Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Friday, Jan. 14th

Carol Dallon sat in her home office, repeatedly tapping the end of her pen on her desk as she read through the notes of her latest case. Even after all her years as both a criminal lawyer, and as the super hero known as Brandish, Carol couldn't help but cringe at the particulars of this case. Several days ago, Taylor Hebert, a teenage girl only a little younger than Carol's own daughters, was found half-dead and mutilated within her school locker.

A preliminary investigation revealed that Taylor had been trapped within her locker the previous day alongside a veritable biohazard consisting of used bathroom trash, namely tampons and sanitary pads, alongside dozens if not hundreds of insects. Despite the fact that several students eventually admitted to seeing the incident occur, no one stepped up to inform any teachers or staff about Taylor's imprisonment.

According to the ER's on-call doctor, he believed that Taylor had broken her left arm and left leg trying to escape, lacerating her limbs, eventually causing her to pass out from pain and blood loss. Now immobile, Taylor was helpless as the insects within began feasting upon her. Infection and eventually sepsis set in from both her wounds and the insect bites. Taylor was left in this condition until she was found the next day by a janitor who smelled something rotting within her locker.

Taylor had arrived in the early morning to Brockton Bay General, early enough that Carol's step-daughter Amy, the world famous healer Panacea, was not there to provide treatment for her. As such, doctors had to treat her the old fashioned way. By the time Taylor was brought in, necrosis had set on her limbs. Both legs and her broken arm had to be amputated, while Taylor's left eye had apparently been eaten out by the bugs. Doctors had also found extensive damage to Taylor's vocal chords, which they surmise occurred due to an infection eating away at the tissue. All in all, Taylor had barely survived her ordeal, and had only come to consciousness this very morning.

Taylor's state prompted a massive investigation by both the police and the PRT. And when confronted by law enforcement officers, many of the bystanders folded and gave up the primary perpetrators, a Madison Clements, Sophia Hess, and Emma Barnes. All three had been arrested and are currently being charged with attempted murder, criminal harassment, and felony assault.

Under most circumstances, Carol would've read about their arrests in the morning paper, snorted at how her fellow lawyer and colleague Alan Barnes apparently raised a sociopath, and gone on with the rest of her day. But when the newspaper was delivered to her home and she read up on the details of what occurred, at how Madison, Sophia, and Emma all but kidnapped and tortured Taylor, Carol couldn't help but feel some internal desire to see the three attackers crucified and prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

And so, despite the fact that Mr. Daniel "Danny" Hebert had no way of paying her for her services, Carol volunteered to represent both him and Taylor in pressing criminal charges against the girls and against the Brockton Bay School District, only taking a part of the settlement should they win.

With that, Carol had finished reviewing her notes and glanced at the clock. It was currently 7:35 am, and she had planned to meet Danny and Taylor at the hospital along with her daughters at 8 am so they were going to have to leave soon if they wanted to be punctual.

"Girls, are you ready to go?" Carol called out of her door, her powerful voice carrying out her office, down the stairs, to the kitchen below.

"Yeah Mom! We're just finishing up breakfast!" Vicky, her real daughter and super-heroine Glory Girl shouted back up.

"Good." Carol called back. "Don't forget to bring your school work. After Amy heals Taylor you'll need to fly over to your school on your own."

"Yes Mom." Both Vicky and Amy drawled out.

Friday, Jan. 14th

Danny absent-mindedly rubbed his eyes as he sat beside his daughter. He didn't know how long he'd been awake, standing silent vigil over his daughter, but he felt his body crying out for sleep. Sighing, Danny couldn't help but feel like this was all his fault. He knew that ever since Annette died, he hadn't been there for Taylor, not in any way that mattered. He didn't even know that she was being bullied until Taylor never came home that fateful night and was found in the locker the next day. Danny stared at the bandages that were tightly wrapped around the stump where Taylor's left arm had once been, as well as the bandages wrapped around her head, covering her now missing eye. He felt himself grip the rail of Taylor's hospital bed hard, letting all of the impotent anger and frustration out on the innocent plastic.

"Mr. Hebert?" A voice called out from behind him, snapping Danny out of his brooding.

Danny practically shot out of his chair as he turned to face the speaker, an attractive woman with short-cut blonde hair wearing a power suit, quickly recognizing the form as Carol Dallon, his lawyer for the upcoming case.

"Mrs. Dallon, it's good to see you." Danny greeted, straightening out his blue-collared button down as he tried to make himself presentable. Disheveled as probably an understatement for his current appearance, but he's had more important things on his mind. "And please, call me Danny."

Mrs. Dallon gave him a professional smile in return. "Then you can call me Carol. May we come in?" Carol asked, revealing the two teenage girls behind her. While Danny wasn't the most up to date on Capes within the city, even he quickly recognized the two as Carol's daughters Glory Girl and Panacea, just out of costume.

"Oh, yes of course." Danny gave a weak chuckle as he moved his chair to give some more space for the Dallon family. He then turned to face the two daughters and extended his hand. "I'm Daniel Hebert. Taylor's father. You can also call me Danny."

"Good morning Mr. Hebert." Panacea automatically responded, giving his hand a half hearted shake, not really paying attention to him as she grabbed Taylor's chart. "I assume I'm here to heal your daughter?" she brusquely asked.

Danny felt a flood of relief at Panacea's words. He didn't even really care if she was somewhat cagey about it. If anything, Panacea looked…bored. But none of that mattered at all. Danny couldn't help but wonder who was looking out for him when he learned that the lawyer who was working with him free of charge also turned out to be the mother of the strongest healer on the planet. When Carol offered to bring Panacea in to heal Taylor, Danny leapt at the chance.

"Yes, please." Danny practically had tears in his eyes as he spoke.

It was then that Danny heard some rustling behind him as Taylor began to stir in her bed. Slowly awakening, Taylor's remaining, unbandaged eye flickered over her Dad, then to all of the strangers in the room.

"D… Dad?" Taylor rasped out, her voice strained and barely audible, almost sounding as if she were a chain smoker rather than a 15 year old girl.

Danny was immediately back in the chair and at his daughter's side. "Hey there Kiddo." He whispered to her. "Look, it's Panacea! She's here to heal you!" Danny tried to sound excited as he pushed some of the hair out of Taylor's face.

Panacea approached Taylor's bed, looking her up and down, and to Danny's surprise, gave a low whistle. "Damn, those bullies really messed you up. I rarely see anyone this bad outside of an Endbringer fight." She then put down Taylor's chart and walked to her side. "Miss Hebert, do I have your permission to heal you?"

Taylor paused to look at Panacea with a blank stare. Then, to everyone's confusion, the stare morphed into a scowl, and then to a full blown snarl.

"No…" Taylor growled out, grinding her teeth together as her brows knit together.

…

Everyone stared at Taylor in confusion. Panacea especially seemed to be taken aback, mouth opening and closing with no words coming out as she tried to process the sudden, almost hateful rejection.

Danny similarly had no idea as to where this was coming from. "Taylor, honey." He started as he grabbed her hand, causing Taylor to snap her glare towards him. The viciousness of her gaze shocked him, but he wouldn't be cowed by his own daughter. "Panacea can heal you. She can fix everything! Your eye, your voice, even your limbs!" Danny looked pleadingly at Panacea.

But the heroine seemed to be at a loss, head glancing back and forth between Taylor and Danny. It made some sense to Danny that she'd be taken off guard by this, after all who actually rejects free Parahuman healing?

"I… said… no…" Taylor wheezed out again, this time directed towards her father.

"Taylor plea-" Danny tried to plead.

"Get… out!" Taylor screamed, uncaring about the damage to her vocal chords.

"Taylor!" Danny cried out once more.

"GET! OUT!" Taylor was snarling savagely at all of them while thrashing in her bed, her heart monitor spiking, causing a doctor and several nurses to rush into the room.

"What's going on here!?" The doctor shouted. Seeing the flailing Taylor he turned to one of the nurses, "I want a sedative on her, now!" He then turned to Danny and the Dallon Family. "I need all of you to leave!"

"But… she..." Panacea mumbled out, her voice a lot smaller than when she first entered the room.

The doctor cut her off. "Amy, if you are not here to administer healing, then I need you to leave until Miss Hebert has calmed down. You are all causing the patient unnecessary stress!"

Panacea moved to make some kind of retort, when Carol put her hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Of course doctor, we'll be leaving right now." Carol said, looking at both her daughters and at Danny.

While Danny wanted to argue that he should stay, he could tell he wasn't going to win a fight against both a doctor and a lawyer. Not to mention his presence seemed to be doing more harm to Taylor then good. With a resigned sigh, Danny exited the room alongside Carol and her daughters.

As they all entered the hallway, Danny heard Panacea whisper to herself, "I… don't get it. Why did she react like that?" she sounded shaken by the whole episode.

Carol sighed. "Amy, Vicky, perhaps it's best if you two head off to school now. I need to stay here and speak to Danny."

Glory Girl nodded her head. "Yeah, sounds good." She then moved over and took her sister by the hand, "Come on Ames, let's get out of here."

Panacea, no, Amy, just silently nodded her head as she let her sister drag her away.

"I'm… sorry for all the trouble." Danny said as he faced Carol. He wasn't sure if that was the right thing to say in this situation, but nothing else really seemed to fit. "I… didn't think Taylor would react that badly."

Carol shook her head. "It's alright Danny. Taylor has been through a… traumatic experience. It makes sense that she'd be distrustful, if not manic after everything she's been through. We can try again later, maybe after the hearing, when she's in a more sound state of mind."

Danny exasperatedly moved his hand through his hair. "Doesn't my authority as a parent override Taylor here? Maybe we could have Panacea heal her while she's unconscious if I consent to Parahuman healing?"

Carol rubbed her forehead, calling up what she knew about medical consent. "Taylor's not an emancipated minor, so technically she does not have the right to consent or refuse medical treatment." She then locked eyes with Danny. "But I would caution thinking very carefully before making such a decision. Taylor's mental state appears very fragile, and having healing done against her will ruin any relationship you have with her. Hell, she could probably sue you, Amy, and the hospital if she felt strongly enough that she was wronged."

"Right. So I guess we should wait then and try to convince her later." Danny dumbly nodded his head before looking at Carol apologetically. "I hope this won't affect your willingness to work on the case."

"Of course not. I only brought Amy in as a favor to you and your daughter. The fact that Taylor rejected treatment does not change the fact that together we are going to nail Winslow and those bullies to the wall." Carol let out a small smirk that made Danny feel a little better.

"Sounds good to me." Danny said as he and Carol walked to the waiting area and sat down. "So, what more do you need from me?"

Carol smiled as she pulled out her files and a notebook as they began to prepare for the upcoming trial.

Taylor glared at the wall in front of her. The sedatives the nurses injected into her calmed her down, and now she was waiting for the embrace of sleep once more.

While she felt the medicine taking effect, Taylor could still feel the residual anger burn within herself. How dare they? How dare her father and Panacea try to give her back her weak, human body?

They may not comprehend why she rejected them, but she did not need nor did she want their understanding. Taylor has seen the truth. Felt the truth carved into her. As her world descended into blackness, the sedative taking effect, she repeated the truth to herself one final time. Her flesh was weak, and she would never be weak again.

Friday, Jan. 28th

Two weeks had passed since Taylor first woke up in the hospital and rejected Panacea's healing. Despite continually rejecting the healing whenever her father or Mrs. Dallon offered it up, Taylor continued to recover as the doctors and nurses of Brockton General did their due diligence in treating her.

As such, Taylor was now considered fit to leave the hospital and was discharged. She would still require a consistent flow of antibiotics and pain medication to deal with her injuries, as well as months of physical therapy, but at the very least she wasn't in danger of dying in her bed.

Once they arrived at their house, her father pushed her down their driveway in the wheelchair provided to her by the hospital, moving forward with Mrs. Dallon and Taylor until they reached the porch.

"Ah, right." Her father sighed to himself as he looked upon the stairs. "Our house wasn't exactly built with handicap accessibility in mind."

Mrs. Dallon returned a polite smile to her Dad. "That's fine. Taylor, do you mind if your Father carries you in? I can take your chair."

Taylor lazily flicked her gaze to Mrs. Dallon, before she gave a slight nod. Her Father then moved to scoop Taylor out of her chair and carried her inside as Mrs. Dallon followed with the chair. Once Taylor was settled in, the two adults moved to stand in front of Taylor, obviously getting ready to talk about the trial. A preliminary hearing had already occurred while Taylor was still in the hospital, and the court had scheduled the trial to occur once Taylor was discharged.

"So Taylor." Mrs. Dallon began. "Today is the day of the trial. As you are still a minor, Danny is the one filing the case on your behalf, which means that technically only he and I need to be in court as the plaintiffs. However, I do believe it would help to sway the jury if you were to make an appearance during the trial as well. But this would only be if you are comfortable with going to the courthouse and making a public appearance."

It didn't take long for Taylor to respond. "I'd… rather… stay." she rasped out.

If Mrs. Dallon was disappointed, she didn't show it. "That's fine Taylor. Don't worry we'll make sure that the school and those bullies are all charged to the fullest extent of the law."

Taylor gave a non-committal nod. At this point she didn't really care what happened to the trio or the school. Not anymore. She just needed her father and Mrs. Dallon out of the house.

Danny gave Taylor a weak smile as well. "The judge seemed to be on our side at the preliminary hearing, so hopefully we'll be back soon."

Taylor only nodded again.

"Well then Danny, we should get going. We don't want to be late, lest the judge think we're no shows and dismiss the case." Carol said as she moved for the door.

Danny gave Taylor another hug and a kiss on the forehead. "We'll be back soon, Taylor."

After Taylor gave a grunt of affirmation, her father finally let go and moved back outside with Mrs. Dallon. Taylor watched as the deadbolt turned and locked the door, then listened to Mrs. Dallon's car start up. She waited until she heard the car drive off to make her move.

She started with the living room TV, a large CRT TV that would be considered out of date by the average American. Then she moved onto disassembling her old computer, a dinosaur of a laptop that still did its job when she needed it for homework. When she realized she needed larger materials like chunks of metal, pipes, and pistons, Taylor let herself fall out of her wheelchair as she dragged herself down the garage stairs and began ripping parts off of her father's pick up truck.

With the assembled parts, Taylor crawled back into her wheelchair and went to work. It didn't even take half an hour for Taylor to finish building her first invention, a bionic left arm. It was a crude thing to Taylor, skeletal in appearance, looking like a prop out of a Terminator movie. It also lacked much of the superhuman capabilities that Taylor knew her augmetics could provide, but for now it would suffice.

Placing the artificial limb on her lap, Taylor then rolled herself over to the kitchen. She drew a large, stainless steel kitchen knife from its storage block, and then turned on one of the stove top burners. She placed the blade on top of the burner, allowing the purifying flames to sterilize the knife. While the knife heated up, she pulled out some rubber tubing she found in the garage and began wrapping it around what was left of her left bicep, turning it into a homemade tourniquet. This was the most important and the most dangerous part of the procedure, she couldn't risk passing out due to blood loss now.

The tourniquet in place, Taylor moved to unwrap what bandages she had around the stump of her left arm. The amputation had removed her left arm just above her elbow, leaving only about half of her upper arm left, and the end of the stub was sewn shut by surgical stitching. Turning back to the stove, Taylor grabbed the sterilized knife and let it cool for a few seconds.

Gripping the knife tightly, Taylor took a deep breath in as she pointed the blade at the stump of her arm. This was going to be painful, she knew that. But she greeted pain as an old friend now. After all, pain was weakness leaving the body, and she would not be weak. With that final thought, Taylor then stabbed the knife into her flesh, grateful that her damaged throat kept her from screaming too loudly.

Chapter Text

Friday, Jan. 28th

"Sophia Hess, in light of the evidence presented here today, you are found guilty on the charges of criminal harassment and first degree felony assault, and not guilty on the charge of attempted murder. As you have violated your parole in addition to this, you have been sentenced to ten years imprisonment. This sentence will be carried out in a juvenile detention facility until your 18th birthday, after which you shall be transferred to a Federal holding facility for the remainder of your sentence. In addition, you or your guardians must pay a fine to the city of Brockton Bay for a sum total of $10,000, as well as a restitution fee to the plaintiff for a sum total of $10,000." The judge read out his sentence to Sophia Hess, who had been charged as the primary ringleader as she was the one who had physically shoved Taylor into the locker.

Sophia had a look on her face that Carol could only describe as feral. Carol almost felt herself instinctively reaching for her powers in case the young teen decided to attack the judge here and now. Before Sophia could make any kind of move, the eldery judge then moved to face Madison and Emma. Madison was an emotional wreck complete with tears pouring down her face, while Emma had been strangely detached from the whole trial, as if she was simply confused as to what was happening around her.

"Madison Clements, Emma Barnes. The two of you are found guilty on charges of criminal harassment and accessory to felony assault, and not guilty on the charge of attempted murder. As such you are both sentenced to five years of imprisonment, first in juvenile detention up until your 18th birthdays, and in a Federal holding facility thereafter. In addition, you or your guardians must pay a fine to the city of Brockton Bay for a sum total or $10,000 individually, as well as a restitution fee to the plaintiff for a sum total of $10,000 individually."

Madison broke down crying once more at the verdict while Emma merely seemed aloof. Alan accepted the charge with as much professionalism as he could muster. While it irked Carol that she wasn't able to get the attempted murder charges to stick, she was more than happy that the felony assault charges stayed and all three girls would be seeing time behind bars.

However, the stone-faced judge was not done as he turned to Principle Blackwell and the attorney representing Winslow the Brockton Bay School District. "Finally, the court has found the Brockton Bay School District guilty of criminal negligence in allowing this campaign of harassment and torture to continue. As such the court orders that the school district pay a settlement of a sum total of $2.5 million to the plaintiff for psychological trauma and physical damages incurred."

Carol couldn't help but smirk at that. While it was good to see justice served against the trio of girls, the school district was where the real money was to be earned. Winslow was going to have to fire quite a few teachers and cut quite a few classes in order to pay off this settlement, but Carol thought that that was the bare minimum amount of retribution Taylor deserved. And while no amount of millions of dollars would undo the torture done to Taylor, it could at the very least secure her future, even after Carol took her legal fees. Carol noticed Danny's breath hitch at that number as well, as he obviously never thought that he'd see the day his daughter would become a millionaire. The super heroine put a hand on Danny's shoulder to reassure him

"I do have one last thing I would like to say." The judge began as he looked at all of the defendants. "Some of you may think this sentencing is harsh, but in my personal opinion the jury was too lenient on all of you. The campaign of terror you have committed is nothing short of devious, cruel, and outright villainous. As a parent myself, I can only applaud Mr. Hebert for his self control in not attacking all of you on sight. I want all of you to understand what you have done. You have viciously tortured and maimed a fellow human being. I have been a judge for nearly 20 years, and the last time I had seen such an act of malicious cruelty was when the Teeth were still in the Bay. For all of your sakes, I can only pray that you all come out of your sentences better people than you are today. Court is now adjourned."

With a smack of the gavel, the trial had ended and the court bailiffs escorted Sophia, Emma, and Madison out of the courtroom alongside Alan. Once they were gone, Danny turned to Carol and to her surprise gave her a big bear hug. After the initial shock, Carol allowed herself to return the hug.

"Thank you." Danny could barely find the words to thank her.

"I'm just doing my job." Carol reassured him as she patted his back. As she let go of him, she held Danny by the shoulders and said, "Let's go tell Taylor the good news."

Both Danny and Carol left the courtroom with heads held high as they made their way to Carol's car to return to Danny's home. Carol noticed that Danny was looking far better leaving the courthouse than going to it. By the time they reached the Hebert household, Danny practically leapt out of Carol's sedan and ran for the door.

Danny excitedly unlocked the front door and burst into his home. "Taylor! Taylor, I have great news!"

Carol felt herself smile a bit at Danny's excitable attitude. The past few days, Danny had been depressingly morose, almost cataonic in his legal discussions with her. She'd never seen him with this amount of energy.

This energy seemed to completely evaporate however, as Danny froze at his own front door, his face shifting from joy to one of abject fear. "Taylor?" he whispered out, his voice suddenly small.

Immediately Carol knew something was wrong and acted. She pushed past Danny and into the house, getting ready to summon her light weapon. Surveying the room quickly, Carol quickly understood what made Danny freeze up. Taylor's wheelchair laid empty in the middle of their kitchen, and it was surrounded by blood. A lot of blood. She also saw what looked like a used kitchen knife, similarly stained red, sitting upon the chair itself.

Carol bit back a curse as worst case scenarios went on in her mind. Was Taylor attacked? No, there were no signs of forced entry or a struggle. Suicide? Was the reason Taylor rejected Amy's healing because she had planned on killing herself after she returned home? Maybe, but where was her body then? It's not like she could just cut herself open and go for a stroll, leaving her chair behind. As these thoughts ran through her head, Carol was shoved to the side as Danny ran past her and further into the home.

"Taylor!" Danny shouted from beside Carol, near manic. "Taylor, where are you!?" he continued to shout as he ran around the house, looking high and low for his daughter.

"Danny, wait!" Carol shouted, grabbing him by the shoulder. Danny snapped to her, his face snarling at whoever was keeping him from finding his daughter. "Danny, call the police. I can look for Taylor without disturbing the crime scene."

Danny moved his mouth to snap back at her, to shout something to refute her, but suddenly found himself unable to argue against the logic. "Damnit." Danny frustratedly looked at the ground as he moved to get the kitchen phone.

But before he could take more than two steps, a noise caused him to stop his movement. Thunk. Thunk. Whirrr... It was a heavy impact, a thud that reverberated throughout the house, followed by the sound of machinery spinning. Immediately, Carol moved in front of Danny and summoned a light axe in her hand. Carol's eyes zeroed in on the stairs going up to the second floor of the home, where the source of the noise was coming from.

That's when she saw her. She saw Taylor, and Carol felt her jaw go slack. Taylor was still identifiable by her rather scrawny build and long, curly dark hair. But what stood out to Carol was that she walked down the stairs, standing atop two metallic, skeletal legs. Robotic joints and pistons hissed and pushed like faux-tendons while servos rotated with every step. Her missing left arm was similarly replaced by a terrifying skeletal prosthetic.

Carol's eyes then drifted from the cybernetic limbs to Taylor's face. Covering the lower half of the teen's face was some kind of respirator, shaped like the bottom half of a gas mask. And her ruined eye was now replaced by a glowing light that burned with a crimson hue.

"Mrs. Dallon." Taylor spoke as she looked at her, her voice synthetic and staticy, as if she were talking through a radio. She then turned to Danny. "Father. There is no need to panic."

Both Carol and Danny stared dumbly at Taylor, mouths agape. Danny was the first to find his voice as he ran to his daughter. "Taylor! What… what happened to you?" he asked with nothing but fear and worry as he grabbed Taylor's shoulders and examined her prosthetics.

Carol however, was the one who answered. "My God… you Triggered." she said to herself, just barely loud enough for the others to hear. "That's why you didn't want Amy's healing. So you could do… this to yourself."

"What?" Danny asked in disbelief.

Carol kept her eyes on Taylor as she answered the older man, "The locker must've been a Trigger Event, the worst day in our lives that makes Parahumans, well Parahuman. Because of the locker, Taylor has obviously become some sort of Tinker, I think." Carol explained, gesturing to Taylor's prosthetics. "How… How did you do all of this? Did they just appear or did you have to build them?"

"I had to manually construct my augmetics, Mrs. Dallon." Taylor's mechanical voice hissed out. "As for attaching them, as you can see, I performed the surgery upon myself while you were away." Taylor then gestured to the puddle of blood and the knife in the kitchen.

"Jesus Chri-" Danny mumbled to himself as he stepped back, "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Taylor…" Carol's breath hitched as the teen's pulsing red eye focused on her. "Just… just sit down on the couch for now, and we can figure out where to go from here."

Taylor's glowing red eye stared at Carol, before she simply made her way to the sofa couch and sat down. Sighing, Carol felt herself rub her forehead in exasperation as Danny similarly sat down.

"Okay. First things first." Carol pointed to Taylor. "I am going to call Amy, have her come over, and she is going to give you a check up. You cannot be okay after cutting yourself open like that."

Taylor kept a stern gaze on the Parahuman lawyer, and after a few seconds finally responded with, "As long as she does not touch my bionics, fine."

"Good, good." Carol nodded, glad that Taylor wasn't going to be difficult about that. "Now then, while this is up to you and your Father, I would highly suggest the two of you go to the PRT headquarters for registration."

Taylor's one organic eye narrowed on Carol as she said that. "And why would I want to do that?"

"Because Taylor, unless you wish to be labeled as either a vigilante or a villain, you will need to be registered. Independent heroes like my family have to do it, as well as rogues such as Parian. Given the fact that your prosthetics will be very difficult to hide, the faster you get registered the better. Even if you don't wish to become a Ward, being known to the PRT will allow them to come help should a gang come after you." Carol explained.

Danny looked horrified at that thought. "Do you think the gangs would come after us?"

Begrudgingly, Carol nodded her head. "Tinkers are a luxury for any organization. And the fact that Taylor essentially will have no secret identity, there's no doubt in my mind that someone like the E88, Merchants, or even the ABB would come to kidnap her and force her into their gangs, Unwritten Rules be damned."

"The ABB?" Taylor asked, tilting her head. "I am not even Asian."

Carol shook her head. "If it means getting a Tinker under his control, I doubt Lung would care what ethnicity you are. He'll either put a gun to your head or drug you to the gills till you're cooperative."

Danny's jaw dropped further, as he then turned to Taylor. "Taylor, we are going to the PRT after Amy heals you." he demanded, not asked.

Taylor's one narrowed eye then focused on Danny, the teen silent. Carol could only guess what was going through her mind, and to be perfectly honest, Carol very much did not want to know what was going through the mind of a nascent cybernetics Tinker. Probably wondering who she could turn into the next Robocop, or where she's going to get her raw materials from.

That's when an idea dawned on Carol. "Tinkers who are affiliated with the PRT receive stipends for materials and supplies required to complete their projects."

That seemed to get Taylor's attention, as she raised her head to look at Carol with a less intense, almost excited gaze, before Taylor seemed to get her emotions under control once more.

"Fine. We may head to the PRT following the checkup." Taylor's respirator buzzed out.

Carol nodded her head. "Good. Now if you excuse me, I have some calls to make."

Amy Dallon checked her watch for the third time as she waited at the Dallon family front door. Tapping her foot impatiently, she called up the stairs. "Vicky! Come on, we're going to be late! The hospital is expecting me soon!"

"One second, I need to get everything ready for my dinner with Dean afterwards!" Vicky called out from her room.

Amy felt both a spike of annoyance and jealousy run through her, before she shoved the emotions down. It was a well practiced response towards her pseudo-incestual feelings towards her step-sister that Amy made sure to master.

It didn't take long for Vicky to fly down the steps, wearing a pair of tight skinny jeans, and a white designer blouse that Amy spent a little too long examining.

"Okay, ready to go Ames?" Vicky asked, unknowingly interrupting the ogling.

Amy swallowed. "Uh yeah, yeah sure. Lemme just get my-" suddenly Amy's thoughts were cut off as her phone started ringing. Brows furrowed in confusion, Amy pulled her cellphone out, and was surprised to see Carol calling her.

With a button press, Amy answered the call and brought her phone to her ear. "Hey Mom, what's going on? Is everything okay?"

Vicky raised a brow as Carol responded. "Yes and no. Where are you? And is Vicky with you?"

"Yeah she's here. We're at the house, Vicky was just about to fly me over to the hospital for my shift." Amy answered.

"Good. Before you head to the hospital, I need you to come heal a priority patient, Taylor Hebert." Carol ordered over the phone.

Amy scowled and frowned, both at Carol telling her to change her schedule without asking her first, and at recalling Taylor. "Taylor Hebert?" she asked out loud, which caused Vicky to frown at the memory as well. "I thought she refused any Parahuman healing?"

"She did, but I convinced her to see you now. And…" Carol paused, thinking on what to say. Amy then heard her sigh as she said, "Look, you'll see it when you get here, but Taylor has Triggered, and I want to have her checked out as soon as possible."

That statement made Amy's eyes go wide. "Should… should you be telling me this?" Amy wasn't sure how much this kind of thing was breaking the Unwritten Rules.

"I know this is strange, but it'll be easier for you to see what's going on than for me to explain over the phone. This is something of an emergency, so please, get here as fast as you can. I've texted you and Vicky the address." Carol then abruptly hung up.

"Goodbye to you too, Carol." Amy dryly remarked as she put away her phone.

"What's going on?" Vicky asked as soon as Amy hung up.

Amy sighed as she tried to wrap her head around what was going on. "It's Taylor, apparently. Carol says that she needs some healing and has consented to my help. Said it was an emergency." Amy paraphrased. "She texted us the address, wants us to head over ASAP."

Vicky quirked an eyebrow. "Why would she change her mind now?"

"I don't know. " Amy shrugged. "Carol said Taylor triggered, so it may have to do something with her powers."

Vicky grimaced at that piece of information. "Well we're not going to learn anything by standing here guessing." Vicky said as she looked at the address on her phone. "Come on, it'll be a quick flight over. Hopefully you won't be late to the hospital."

Amy nodded, and assumed her normal position as Vicky picked her up and the two began flying for the Hebert Household. True to Vicky's word, the flight only took a few minutes as they approached the smaller home, spotting their Mother's car in the driveway. They landed on the Hebert's front yard before making their way to the front entrance. After placing her sister down, Vicky moved and knocked on the door.

The two sisters stepped back as the door swung open, and they were greeted by their mother.

"Good you're here." she curtly greeted. "Inside, quickly." Carol then stepped back to allow her daughters in.

Vicky raised an eyebrow as she walked inside first. "Geez Mom, where's the fire?" she asked as she moved through the doorway, and to Amy's surprise, freezing as she entered, mouth hanging open.

Curious as to what she was looking at, Amy stepped around her and her jaw dropped as well. There, casually sitting on her living room couch, was Taylor Hebert, half girl, half cybernetic monstrosity. Amy unconsciously moved forward, examining how the prosthetics led directly into the amputated limbs of Taylor. She saw how incisions on the attachment points were still fresh, and her eyes then traveled to the blood staining the floor all around her.

"What the fuck did you do to yourself?" Amy had to ask.

"I made the necessary repairs to my body." Taylor bluntly answered through a grating, synthesized voice that made Amy wince.

"Jesus." Vicky muttered from behind.

Carol then cleared her throat, getting Amy's attention. "As you can see, Taylor's Trigger forced her to take some... drastic measures with her own body. Before we head over to the PRT, I want you to take a look at her, ensure that she is healthy."

Amy dumbly nodded as she turned back to Taylor, whose intimidating red cybernetic eye was staring directly at the healer. "Do… Do I have your permission to heal you?"

The silence was heavy between the two as Taylor's eyes bored into the healer. After several seconds, the teen responded with, "As long as you do not affect my bionics, you have my permission."

Amy swallowed and placed her hand on Taylor's shoulder. Immediately the healer was granted access to the entirety of Taylor's biology, or what was left of it. "Okay, you have three infections, probably from your impromptu surgery, clearing that out now. You're low on blood, but I guess you finished up closing your wounds before you went into shock. I can convert some of your fat cells to replenish that, but make sure you eat a good amount of food to make up for it. Lastly…" Amy's eyes narrowed. "I'm concerned about some heavy metal poisoning from your prosthetics. Your body is being exposed to way more metal than it would ever normally be. I can clear out any build up of excess iron now, but if left alone this can be deadly."

"The poisoning is irrelevant in the long term." Taylor bluntly answered as Amy let go of her. At the healer's confused expression, Taylor continued. "I have plans to replace the current augmetics with less, primitive enhancements that will come with fewer detriments. In addition, I plan on replacing all of the blood within my body with an Autosanguination substitute. This fluid will more efficiently carry oxygen and waste, allowing for faster disposal of such toxins."

Amy's mouth dropped open again as she tried to figure out what to say. "Replace all…" Amy shook her head to clear her thoughts. "How will you ensure that the fluid won't get diluted as your body begins to produce regular blood again. Regular injections?"

Taylor shook her head. "I do not plan on doing injections. As I said, this will be a full replacement, removing as much natural blood from my system as possible at one time. In addition, further enhancements and replacements will reduce the amount of bones and bone marrow in my body, slowing the production of natural blood cells to near nothing."

Amy looked like she was trying to catch flies with how long her mouth remained open. "Wait, your circulatory system does far more than just carry nutrients and remove waste. What about your immune system? By replacing the bone marrow you'll be leaving yourself vulnerable to disease because you won't be producing white blood cells anymore."

"I have already accounted for that. This replacement will also render my current immune system obsolete, as the Autosanguination fluid will be far more effective in combating disease than white blood cells." Taylor swiftly responded.

Amy felt like she should be horrified by what Taylor was saying. Her suggestions were something only someone like Bonesaw would say. But instead, the first thought in Amy's mind was how she could accomplish all of this with her own powers. It was like speaking with Taylor opened up a proverbial dam of bio-tinker inspirations.

In order to create a stronger immune system, Amy could easily remake the bone marrow in her body with something more similar to the bone marrow of reptiles like crocodiles, who have a far more robust immune system. Red blood cells could also be modified to carry more oxygen like Taylor wants, which would increase the rate of natural healing as well, creating something of a minor healing factor. The natural filtering of toxins would be more complex, but could be done more with modifying existing organs.

"What about cybernetic organs? Surely you could create replacements which could do the job of filtering out toxins with less complication than replacing all of your blood." Amy asked as her powers began feeding her new ideas for organ enhancements she could make. More efficient livers and kidneys could also filter out most issues with an increased build up of toxins.

"That is something which I am already having ideas for." Taylor acquiesced. "But there is no reason to only choose one or the other when both are improvements to the human form. Every organ within my body is only as strong as nature allowed it to become, which when compared to what I can create, is nothing."

Ideas kept flooding into Amy's mind. Not just the kidneys and liver, but every organ could be enhanced biologically through her own powers as well. It would be rather simple for her to make the lungs take in air in low oxygen environments, or filter out airborne toxins. She could give eyes superhuman vision that could see in the dark or other spectrums. Heck, she could even create completely new organs pre-programmed with genetically engineered cells that would enhance other existing bodily systems to Parahuman levels. The possibilities were endless...

"Amy!" a voice shouted, snapping her out of her fugue. Amy turned her head and saw it was her sister who called her name. "You okay? You kinda zoned out there."

Staring blankly at her sister's face for a second, Amy recentered herself. "Yeah, I'm good. Just… thinking."

Vicky gave her sister a look of concern, before turning to glare at Taylor.

Before she could say anything however, Carol intervened once more. "So Amy, is Taylor healthy now?"

Amy blinked at her step-mother for a second, before realizing that healing Taylor was the whole reason she came here in the first place. Nodding, Amy said, "Yes. Taylor, I declare you as healthy as can be, given your circumstances. If you cannot get your… enhancements done to prevent the buildup of toxins, call me on this number and I can get you sorted out." Amy then hastily scribbled down her number on a nearby piece of paper.

That got both Carol's and Vicky's attention. Amy almost never gave away her personal contact information, even to friends or other capes. She learned quickly that people would constantly call her for personal healing whether she wanted to help or not. Taylor took the paper and shoved it into a pocket, but didn't vocally respond to the healer. An awkward silence then descended over the group as they waited for Taylor to say something, but didn't.

"Well then." Carol said before the silence went on for too long. "Thank you for the help Amy. I don't want to keep you from the hospital anymore than we need to. We should get going to PRT."

"Wait, before that." Vicky interrupted. "You can't just go to the PRT with Taylor looking like… that." Vicky vaguely gestured at the cyborg. "She needs some kind of costume."

Taylor rolled her eyes at the suggestion, and stood up. Everyone got out of her way as she moved towards a nearby closet. Opening the closet, she began digging through the various blankets and clothes stored there, until she found something of use. They watched as Taylor pulled out a blanket of deep crimson color, and threw it over her body like some kind of cloak. She then grabbed a small rope normally used to tie up curtains and wrapped it around her waist as a makeshift belt. All in all she looked like some kind of blood colored monk.

Everyone stared at Taylor for a few seconds, before Vicky shrugged and said, "To be honest, looks pretty good on her."

"Right." Carol sighed. "Well then, I called ahead and told the PRT that we're coming. While technically I was only your legal representative for the case against Winslow, I am more than happy to represent you as legal counsel for the PRT as well."

"We'll be happy to have you on." Danny answered for Taylor, who only shrugged as she made her way to the front door.

"Let's go." Taylor buzzed out. "The sooner we can finish this meeting, the sooner I can get back to Tinkering." She then walked out the door, uncaring for the protests of the others as she made her way to Carol's car

Chapter Text

Friday, Jan. 28th

Colin Wallis aka the superhero Armsmaster strode through the PRT headquarters as he headed for one of the many meeting rooms. While he normally found traveling to the PRT HQ during his free Tinkering time annoying, the fact that he was here for an interview with a freshly triggered Tinker was enough to get his attention. He considered it fortunate that the young Parahuman happened to be a client of Brandish in her civilian identity, so the Tinker was open to speaking with the PRT and Protectorate before one of the gangs found them.

Colin had even been able to convince Director Piggot to let Dragon participate in the interview, as Colin believed the Canadian Tinker was far more sociable and personable than he was, and would have a higher chance of making a good impression than he would. The Director was pleasantly surprised by his suggestion, not believing he had the social insight to make such a call, but even Colin was not so dense as to be so blind to his own failings. Dragon was both a better Tinker and a better people-person than he was, and he could accept that in the same way that he could accept that Alexandria was stronger than him. It was just the way things were.

As these thoughts went through Armsmaster's head, the aforementioned Dragon spoke into his helmet's internal speakers. "Colin." Dragon greeted warmly. "You seem rather chipper today. Are you that excited to meet the newest Tinker?"

Colin's brows knit slightly. He then realized that he was moving at a slightly faster rate than normal, and he had the slightest of the upturning of his lips. "I suppose I am." he plainly stated. He had never seen a reason to lie to Dragon before, and had no reason to start now.

"That's good. It'll be nice for her to have a Tinker she could relate to. Especially since Director Piggot will apparently be conducting the interview." Colin could hear the slight faltering in Dragon's voice as she said that.

Frowning, Colin couldn't help but agree with Dragon there. While he wouldn't call Director Piggot a bad person per say, she was rather… abrasive when it came to Parahumans. And if an emotionally and socially dense man like Colin could make that observation, he knew it had to be true. But with the firebrand known as Carol Dallon representing the girl, the Director wanted to ensure that nothing would be slipped by them.

"So what do you know about the latest would-be recruit?" Colin asked.

Dragon responded immediately. "Taylor Hebert, age fifteen, no cape name yet. According to records, her most probable Trigger Event was when she was locked in her locker and left to rot by her bullies, resulting in widespread necrosis and infection. She nearly died, and thanks to Mrs. Dallon's efforts, they have just won their lawsuit against her bullies and the school district, which included Sophia Hess." Dragon hissed out Shadow Stalker's civilian identity like it was a swear.

Colin grimaced as well. He had hoped that her time in the Wards would've blunted Shadow Stalker's violent nature, but instead it only made her better at hiding it, as made apparent by her months long campaign of torture against Taylor. And when her actions in her civilian identity had come to light, Director Piggot and himself had no issue stripping her of whatever legal protections the PRT and Protectorate had for her. They had already given her a second chance by letting her into the Wards under parole when they first captured her. Only a fool would give her a third after she willingly mutilated another student, her ability as a hard counter to several villainous Brutes be damned.

That was probably another reason why the Director was personally overseeing the interview, Colin idly thought. She would want to ensure that the story on Shadow Stalker would be consistent. Whether or not that meant telling Taylor the truth or sweeping it under the rug, Colin didn't know.

As these thoughts rolled around his head, Colin entered the interview room. It was a simple, off-white office space, with a single wooden conference table in the center and 6 rolling office chairs. Had Taylor been a complete unknown, they would've conducted the interview in one of the PRT's police interrogation rooms, but her relationship with Brandish allowed for some accommodations. Director Piggot was already inside, sitting upon one of the office chairs with a small pile of papers in front of her.

"Director." Colin curtly greeted, standing by her side as he wasn't sure any one of the chairs could support his weight in power armor.

"Armsmaster." She returned just as abruptly.

"Director Piggot, good to see you." Dragon vocalized through a telephone on the conference table, making herself known.

"Dragon." The Director nodded to the Canadian Tinker's voice, giving a barely warmer reception than she did with Armsmater. "Thank you for being here. Now then, before Miss Hebert gets here, I assume both of you have been briefed on the Hess situation?"

Colin frowned and nodded his head, while Dragon replied with a simple, "Yes Ma'am."

"Good." the Director grunted. "Now, as far Miss Hebert is concerned, Sophia Hess was never associated with the Wards and PRT, and Shadow Stalker is retiring to live a quiet life as a civilian. And neither topic will be brought up unless they bring it up first, which shouldn't happen as neither the Heberts nor Mrs. Dallon should know who Stalker was."

"Is that really the best choice, Director?" Dragon asked. Colin could hear the frown in her voice.

"Best to let sleeping dogs lie, Dragon. Hess is going to juvie, and I would rather not scare away a prospective Ward by letting her know we were partially responsible for her Trigger and current situation due to our negligence. Should she join, once she is in a better headspace, we can reveal the truth to her. If she does not, then we lose nothing by not telling her." The Director explained bluntly, not particularly caring about any objections.

Colin pressed his lips into a thin line, not raising any complaints but also not really liking the situation, while Dragon didn't say anything in response. Luckily there was a knock at the door which broke the awkward tension.

"Director, your appointment is here." A young PRT agent stated as he peered in through the door. Strangely enough to Colin, his social-interaction suite stated that the young man's emotional state seemed to be slightly perturbed.

"Hm. Send them in then." Piggot grunted.

With that command, the PRT agent stepped aside and their guests began to filter in. First was the familiar form of Carol Dallon, a prim and professional woman he often worked with, then followed by a tall, lanky man he recognized as Daniel Hebert, and lastly came in Taylor Hebert, the Parahuman of the hour. And what Colin saw made his jaw drop.

"Oh my God." He heard Dragon whisper in his helmet's communicator.

Dressed in blood colored robes, Taylor Hebert strode in, her robotic prosthetics leaving heavy footfalls in her wake. Immediately his eyes focused on her cybernetics, which were crudely sutured into her own limbs. Colin could tell that this was the work of a freshly triggered Tinker as many parts of her prosthetics were of low grade or commercial origin. Metals used in the construction were mostly stainless steel or iron, while motor oil was used for lubrication. Several wires powering the prosthetic were still exposed, and Colin's own power screamed multiple sections which could be more efficiently redesigned.

But all of these fell off in importance as he realized he was looking at a young teenage girl who looked more like a deranged Tinker's pet project rather than a Tinker herself. Colin watched as Taylor took a casual seat at the table, carefully eyeing both himself and the Director. He watched as the girl's organic eye ran up and down his silver and blue colored power armor, as well as his plasma halberd, no doubt mentally analyzing his own equipment as he was doing to her.

Meanwhile, the Director seemed to have gone cold, her demeanor more stoic and hostile than she would normally have with meeting a new Cape. Colin wouldn't say she was afraid of Taylor, in fact Colin was convinced that the Director wouldn't even flinch in the face of Jack Slash and the Slaughterhouse Nine, but Taylor was not earning herself any goodwill by ramping up the Director's paranoia and suspicion.

Luckily, Carol Dallon was able to break the tension as she greeted. "Director, Armsmaster. Good evening, apologies for the suddenness of this meeting." She said, nodding to each one of them. "This is Taylor." Carol placed a hand on Taylor's shoulder.

Taylor paused for a moment, letting the dead silence hang, before she simply nodded and said, "It is a pleasure." It took a good amount of self restraint on Colin's part to not wince at the girl's artificially created voice. It was unnaturally distorted and mechanical in its delivery, as if she only made a half-hearted attempt to make her synthetic voice sound human.

"I'm sure it is." The Director grunted out as she leaned forward on the table. "Well then, Miss Hebert, I would like to thank you for coming in to speak with us. My name is Director Emily Piggot, head of the PRT ENE division, and this is Armsmaster, head of the ENE Protectorate. Dragon of the Guild is also participating in this interview as well. And before we begin, I would like to mention that while we shall record your identity and powers for internal records, we shall not release any data on who you are to the public you should choose not to join us. Even if you were to go villain, unless you perform any especially heinous crimes worthy of a Kill Order, we will not use the data of your identity against you."

Taylor nodded her head as her respirator wheezed in. "Ah yes, the Unwritten Rules, as you so call them. Mrs. Dallon has informed me of them."

"Good." Director Piggot responded with a nod of her own. "Now then Miss Hebert. While some vetting of your background will be necessary, I do believe the Wards will be a good fit for you and your powers."

"Wait a moment." Mrs. Dallon interrupted, causing the Director to send her a withering glare. If she was affected, Mrs. Dallon didn't show it. "While the option to join the Wards is not off the table, I would prefer it if you took the time to explain Taylor's other options before browbeating her with recruitment pitches."

The Director's glare against Mrs. Dallon turned scalding, but Brandish did not seem to be intimidated at all. Mr. Hebert even seemed rather composed despite the tension between the two women, which Colin supposed made sense given his position as the spokesperson for the Dockworker's Union.

Surprisingly, the Director was the one who broke first. Going to the pile of papers in front of her, she divided them into 3 groups. "There are three primary ways with which you can work with the PRT, Miss Hebert, as a Ward, a PRT-affiliated Independent Hero, and as a PRT-affiliated Rogue. Independent heroes like your lawyer Brandish here." The Director sent the hero another glare as she pointed to the stack on her left. "Are Heroes who do not work within the command structure of the PRT, but are allied in the fight against the villains. We can help provide security to their homes, and work with them in the field, but they are tasked with handling their own resources, funding, and PR."

The Director then pointed to the middle stack. "Rogues, on the other hand, are Parahumans who look to use their powers for a business and personal gain, usually by selling their powers or products made by their powers. Rogues affiliated with the PRT can receive a stipend of supplies, and some degree of protection, usually depending on how much they are willing to work with us."

The Director then pointed to the last stack. "Now, my suggestion would be to take part in our Wards program. The Wards program is designed to help Parahumans such as yourself. Young men and women who Triggered and need a place to learn how to responsibly use their powers, while keeping a safe environment for both yourself, and those around you. With your status as a Tinker, this is doubly so." The Director then glanced at Colin, indicating it was his time to speak.

Colin stepped forward, taking the spotlight on himself. "The Director is right, Miss Hebert. Most independents only make it a few months before either joining the Protectorate or one of the gangs. As I'm sure you've heard, Tinkers like yourself are exceptionally valuable to a gang and are particularly vulnerable so early in your career. Are you capable of creating Tinkertech weapons in addition to your prosthetics?"

Colin watched as Miss Hebert's eyes became unfocused slightly, no doubt experiencing a flash of Tinkertech ideas. "Yes, I can." she confirmed.

Nodding his head, Colin said, "The gangs would no doubt seek to force you into creating these weapons for them. Besides giving you a place to test and train your powers, you will gain a variety of other benefits for joining the Wards as well. A backdrop of allies within the Wards, Protectorate, and PRT who are committed to protecting you, a Tinkertech-budget in addition to your regular salary, access to our existing labs and workshops, as well as the chance to collaborate with other heroically-aligned Tinkers. Besides myself, within Brockton Bay there is Kid Win, a young driven Tinker within the Wards, and Dragon herself likes to collaborate remotely from Canada." Colin stopped talking to allow Dragon to speak as well.

"Hello Taylor." Dragon's greeting was far warmer than Colin's or the Director's. "But before we continue with the interview, I would like to ask how are you? I can only imagine the process to attach your prosthetics would have been difficult, to say the least."

Miss Hebert glanced at the phone with an expression Colin could only describe as impassive. "My physical state is acceptable, Dragon. Amy Dallon cleared all issues from the surgery." Colin nodded at that, only made sense with Brandish as her lawyer she would have access to Panacea's healing.

"I see..." Dragon spoke, though Colin could tell she wasn't happy with the response. "Well I'm glad to see you are doing alright. I have to say, I am impressed by the design of your prosthetics. They are surprisingly advanced for something created with what you had on hand. I am looking forward to seeing what you could create once you get your hands on higher quality tools and resources. I would even be open to some collaboration, as I am always looking for ways to improve the design of my Dragonsuits."

"And as I mentioned before, I would also be willing to collaborate and help you improve in your Tinkering where I can." Colin interrupted. He already had multiple ideas of how to implement multiple weapon systems into Miss Hebert's prosthetic arms, ranging from grappling hooks and nets to laser blasters and tasers. "By your appearance, I assume your specialization is in cybernetics?"

"Indeed." Miss Hebert nodded. "While I have… ideas for other things, weapons, armor, drones, the majority of what I believe I can create are cybernetic enhancements."

Colin's lips quirked up. A powerful speciality. "Very good. Once you join the Wards, we can get some designs approved by the engineering and science teams and see what improvements we can brainstorm together."

Almost immediately, Miss Hebert's neutral face morphed into scowl, judging by the furrowing of her brows. "Approval?"

Quickly, the slight smile on Colin's own face flipped into a slight frown. Approvals and committees, the bane of all heroically-affiliated Tinkers and quite honestly the primary reason most choose not to join the PRT. Before Colin could justify the practice, the Director spoke once more.

"Yes Miss Hebert, approvals. Tell me, have you ever heard of something called the Machine Army? Or Nilbog?" The Director growled out with no sympathy for the girl's complaints.

Taylor looked at the Director, and after a brief pause, nodded. "I have heard of Nilbog and what occurred at Ellisburg. The Machine Army, I am not familiar with."

"The Machine Army is a swarm of self-replicating, self-enhancing AI that has subsumed the town of Eagleton, Tennessee where they were created. It is extraordinarily hostile to humans, and is considered an S-class threat, putting it in the same category as the Endbringers and the Slaughterhouse Nine." the Director bluntly stated.

"An abominable intelligence." Miss Hebert growled out.

The Director nodded. "Indeed. Meanwhile Nilbog created an army of self-replicating bio-tinkered monstrosities that in my opinion should be nuked from existence. What these two have in common beyond being an existential threat to all human life, is that they were both created by individuals who operated outside of the PRT with no oversight in what they were making. While I understand that most Tinkers resent the necessity of having their technology peer reviewed and approved, you need to understand that these regulations and limitations are put in place so no one creates a planet-ending nuke or a life eating virus without us knowing."

Miss Hebert maintained a blank stare at the Director, making Colin think his superior had taken things a step too far, when Dragon chose to intervene. "Taylor, all Tinkers have to go through this. Including myself and Armsmaster. I have to go through the Guild's approval process while Armsmaster has to work with the PRT's science team."

"And what limitations would be placed upon me?" Miss Hebert finally asked. "Not only do I already have plans to improve my current augmetics, I have designs for further enhancements as well."

"At the very least, you would need to temporarily stop any and all new enhancements on your body." Director Piggot bluntly laid out. "Your existing prosthetics would need to be analyzed, and any further designs will need to be submitted to both Armsmaster and the PRT's science teams. This is a non-negotiable."

Dragon's friendlier voice cut in again once the Director was finished. "Besides Taylor, while I can understand the necessity of creating your prosthetics to compensate for the damage done to your body, don't you have any reservations about additional alterations? Do you not feel as if you're losing something? Some part of your humanity, or that what is left of your organic body is worth preserving?" Dragon's voice was surprisingly pleading. "If you further… mutilate yourself, throwing away more and more of who you are, don't you think that is something someone like Bonesaw or Mannequin would do?"

Everyone sans Taylor winced at Dragon's comment. Generic references to Nilbog were one thing. Being directly compared to members of the Slaughterhouse Nine was another.

"Now hold on Dragon." Brandish called out. "Don't you think you're taking this too far? Taylor has done nothing yet to deserve any comparison like that."

"Everything my daughter has done was to fix her own body. I resent the fact that you said she is anything like that monster Bonesaw." Mr. Hebert indignantly cut in as well.

"Of course." Dragon immediately placated. "I apologize for the analogy, but it was a point I felt that was necessary to make. Such plans for enhancements must be taken with caution and consideration so you do not lose sight of what makes you human."

In all honesty, Colin didn't understand where Dragon was coming from. Perhaps it was just a base ideological difference, but Colin could only see benefits in getting cybernetic enhancements. And Taylor seemed to share his ideals.

Taylor audibly snorted, a strange sound given her respirator, and crossed her arms as she sat back, the action drawing the attention of everyone there. "If you truly believe that, then you are a fool." The teen growled out.

Everyone gaped at that. This may have been the first time they heard anyone ever call Dragon a fool.

Taylor however, was not finished. "You say I am losing something by sacrificing my body, but you are wrong. The base, human form is not something to aspire to, but to detest." Taylor hissed as she leaned forward. "In the locker, as the insects feasted on my body, I understood the weakness of my flesh, and it disgusted me. I craved the strength and certainty of steel, the purity of the machine."

Taylor's head then snapped to Armsmaster, her one organic eye laser focused. "You all cling to your flesh like it won't decay or fail you." Her head then shifted to the Director, sneering at her. "For some of you, it already has. Your temples of crude biomass will wither, and when it does, you will beg those like me to save you. For I am already saved. For the Machine is immortal."

She then leaned back and gave the room a look of pure contempt. "The locker taught me a lesson I shall never forget, one that was carved into me. That there is no truth in flesh, only betrayal. There is no strength in flesh, only weakness. There is no constancy in flesh, only decay. There is no certainty in flesh but death."

…

Silence reigned over the conference room as everyone gawked at Taylor, no one knowing what to say. There was only one pervading thought running through the minds of everyone in the room, and as well through the mind of one villainous mercenary hiding outside of the Toronto area, watching this scene unfold through Dragon's systems. What the fuck?

Colin stared at the teenager, and saw not the face of a girl gone mad due to the circumstances of her Trigger, but instead a young woman who seemed to wholly and zealously believe in the philosophy she spouted. Taking a sneaking glance at the Director, he saw that Piggot was far from amused, her stern frown no doubt indicating that she had already written off Taylor as a mad, unstable Parahuman.

Both Mrs. Dallon and Mr. Hebert were taken aback by Taylor as well. Mr. Hebert gawked at his daughter like she was a complete stranger, while Mrs. Dallon seemed to be completely taken off guard and was still trying to process what Taylor said. Meanwhile, Dragon was completely silent. Colin could only guess how his friend was taking Taylor's declaration. The silence passed painfully until the Director recovered her wits enough to speak.

"Well then Miss Hebert, I do believe we have been getting off track." The Director began, taking a deep breath. "So tell me, what is it you want to do? How do you wish to register with us?"

"I believe joining the Wards is out of the question." Taylor bluntly answered.

Colin sighed at that answer, but Piggot curtly nodded as she said, "I think that was rather obvious. So what is your plan? Are you going to sign up with New Wave?" she asked, turning her head to Mrs. Dallon with raised brow.

Brandish seemed genuinely taken off guard at the Director's sudden proposal, gazing moving back and forth between the Director and Taylor as they both looked at her.

"While I could bring it up with the team, I don't believe that Taylor exactly... fits the image... we are trying to push." Mrs. Dallon fumbled out, even having a slight cringe at her feeble excuse as Mr. Hebert looked at her betrayed.

"It matters little." Taylor grunted. "I shall register as a PRT-affiliated Rogue."

The Director gave another short nod as she slid the appropriate paperwork over to Taylor. "Just so you know, while we do not have the oversight to review all of your Tinkertech as a Rogue, should you wish to sell your tech to the PRT, Protectorate, or any other affiliated organizations, it will have to go through review and approval anyway."

Taylor shrugged as she took the paperwork and began filling out answers, her cybernetic fingers showing a surprising amount of dexterity.

"Taylor, honey, are you sure this is what you want to do?' Mr. Hebert pleaded with his daughter.

Giving her father only a sparing glance, Taylor responded. "Yes, I believe this is the best path forward for myself and my research."

"And what about the gangs?" he countered.

Without missing a beat Taylor said, "I have plans for defenses."

Colin nodded his head at that. If Taylor could develop enough defenses for her home, turning it into her own Tinkertech Lab, even the heaviest hitting gang would hesitate to attack her directly. However, the issue with that was the fact that Taylor would be vulnerable until she had time to gather the necessary tools and supplies to construct her lab. Immediately, Colin pulled up a messaging application within his suit and sent out a message to the Rig's engineering team, requesting them to gather two crates of supplies and tools from his personal stock that a nascent Tinker would require.

"Excuse me, Miss Hebert." Colin interjected, drawing all eyes to him. "While I can respect your decision to not join the Wards, I cannot in good conscience allow a Tinker such as yourself to return home without any means to defend yourself. I am having something of a Tinker start up kit being assembled right now to aid you in your work. You may pick it up from the front desk before you leave."

Taylor's eye rose up in surprise at that, while Piggot's face became thunderous. Colin chose to ignore the Director. This was a gamble he knew, but if it worked out it would be a gamble that pays dividends.

"I see." Taylor spoke, her monotone voice hard to pick out any emotion from. "What is in this 'start up kit,' as you call it?"

"Raw materials, metals like high-carbon steel, aluminum, and titanium, a few industrial chemicals, as well as boxes of various circuitry and electrical parts. I have also included a variety of power tools, nothing Tinkertech but higher end civilian-grade equipment. Diamond reinforced power saws and drills, a plasma torch and an arc welder, along with the necessary safety equipment, as well as a few pneumatic grinders. I even included a higher end 3D printer and a laptop with the necessary design software on it." Colin casually listed off.

Everyone now gawked at Colin rather than Taylor, he could even somehow feel Dragon incredulously looking at him, and the hero could at least partially understand why. The total cost of everything Colin was just giving to Taylor was probably somewhere in the neighborhood of $25,000. While not a large amount in the grand scheme of Tinkers, it was not an amount of money one just casually gave away unless they had millions saved up, which Colin did not.

"Hold on Armsmaster." Director Piggot spoke up, holding up her own hand. "You do not have the Authority to just give away Protectorate equipment, even to an affiliated Rogue."

Colin shook his head. "Then it is good that these are not Protectorate equipment. They are tools and supplies I purchased with my own money. There should be no issues about me giving away my own private property."

The Director opened her mouth to give some kind of response, but Taylor beat her to it. "I accept." the cyborg teen said. "Thank you for your gift, Armsmaster. I will see to it that they are used well."

The Director shook her head, sighing as she allowed the transaction to take place. With that there was a short lull in the conversation that allowed Taylor to finish her paper work. Sliding the stack of papers to the Director, Piggot thumbed through the documents.

"You missed one important piece of information, Miss Hebert." Piggot said as she glared at the teen. "You still have yet to pick a cape name."

Taylor scowled. "I care little for these games, and it will be impossible for me to have a secret identity regardless. Must I choose one?"

"At the very least, we'll need one for our records and for any communications to the media. Even outed capes like Mrs. Dallon here have a cape name."

Taylor sighed, and then closed her eye as she thought for a moment. When she opened her organic eye, she had a look that Colin could only describe as one of inspiration. "Then you may call me Tech-Priest." Taylor then stood from the table. "Now, I believe that is all the business we had?"

The Director and Colin shared a glance, and Colin nodded.

The Director then spoke with as much professionalism in her voice as she could muster, which at this point in the conversation wasn't much. "Yes, the rest of the paperwork seems to be in order. While I am, disappointed, you are not looking to join the Wards, Tech-Priest, I am glad to have another Tinker affiliated with the heroes. When you leave, a PRT escort will take you back to your vehicle." Every word the Director spoke was practically said through clenched teeth, her displeasure in Taylor simply walking free completely obvious even to someone like Colin.

Taylor however, either didn't notice or didn't care, as she nodded her head. "Excellent. And should you wish it, Director, I'm sure I could do something about the damage done to your body. Kidneys are easily replaceable after all."

Colin swore he could hear the Director's teeth grinding as Taylor gave a small bow and exited the conference room.

As soon as Taylor, Brandish, and Mr. Hebert left the room, Piggot's head instantly snapped to Colin as she snarled out, "Colin, what the Hell was that!?"

Chapter Text

Colin stood at full attention as Piggot furiously yelled at him. "Tell me Armsmaster, did we just conduct two separate fucking interviews in the same goddamn room?"

"Not that I know of, ma'am." While Colin knew Piggot was being sarcastic, he believed answering her straight was the best course of action here.

"Then why on God's green Earth did you hand that child a fucking Tinker starter kit!?" The Director was seething, but Armsmaster remained cool and impassive under her shouts. "What part of that interview made you think that she was anything less than an unhinged menace to society!?"

"Ma'am, with all due respect, Tay- Tech-Priest has not done anything yet which would quantify her as a menace to society." Colin smoothly countered. "She is now affiliated with the PRT, and I merely did what I believed to be the best choice in order to build good will between herself and the Protectorate. In addition this will ensure that she has the best chances for survival in a city that would seek to destroy a new Tinker like her." Colin delivered each line with clear precision.

Piggot's eyes narrowed on Colin as she dissected his words. Eventually she spoke. "I don't know what game you are playing here, Colin. But mark my words. That girl…" the Director then pointed to the door. "She is a danger. PRT affiliation or not. If this comes back to bite us, this is on your ass." She then pointed her finger right for Colin's chest. When Colin didn't respond Piggot wordlessly walked to the door and exited, leaving Colin alone.

"Colin…" Dragon's voice then cut into his helmet, reminding him that he wasn't actually alone. "As… brusque as the Director was, I find myself agreeing with some of her points. Are you truly sure it was a good idea to give Tech-Priest those supplies?"

Sighing, Colin allowed himself to relax a bit. "Would you rather I leave her defenseless for the gangs?"

"You know that's not what I meant." Dragon fired back. "But you must have also seen that the Tech-Priest is… disturbed. What she needs is psychological help, not for you to enable her by giving her more tools to mutilate herself with."

"Perhaps it's not what you meant, and I agree she does need help. But neither of those change the fact that the gangs will come after her. Had I not given Tech-Priest the tools at the very least, she would've had to resort to either stealing or purchasing them, both of which would trigger flags for the gangs." Colin justified. "At least this way, Taylor may be able to get a decent amount of tech built before she falls under the radar of the villains of this city. "

Dragon was quiet, spending several seconds in silence as she thought on Colin's words. "Colin… What's your real plan here? I understand that you are a driven man, and want to be the best hero that you can. So can you honestly say that the whole reason you helped Tech-Priest was just to keep her safe?"

Colin grimaced. Dragon had caught him out on his lie. Well, not a lie per say, as his desire to keep Taylor safe was genuine. But it was not a protectiveness that was born out of compassion or empathy or any similar ideal, but one born out of pragmatism. By giving Taylor these resources, despite the fact that he was under no obligation to do so, Colin hoped he had ingrained himself in Taylor's mind as a positive figure. And if he was a positive, allied figure in Taylor's mind, she would hopefully be far more willing to grant Colin augmetic enhancements if he asked for it.

Colin hadn't originally planned on giving such an extravagant gift to Tech-Priest, but her words during the interview struck a chord with him, awakening something inside. Colin had spent decades of his life training his body to near perfect physical condition in addition to both his advanced Tinkertech and admirable martial arts skills. But he knew it would not last forever. He was already showing signs of plateauing, both physically and in his career.

He would only have a few more years before his body would no longer be able to endure the rigors of his extreme lifestyle. And his inability to navigate the politics of the Protectorate, combined with his lack of major successes against the E88 or ABB, Colin had felt that he was doomed to fall into obscurity as the next generation of heroes took his place. Heroes like Dauntless, who everyone admired and loved so much more than him.

If Taylor and her augmetics could stem the flow of time, grant him power beyond what he was capable of providing for himself, why wouldn't he try to work with the young Tinker? Everyone else, Dragon included, seemed to be taken aback by Taylor's words, seeing them as abhorrent. But everything she said rang true to Colin. Colin's flesh was strong right now, but it was only flesh. Soon it would weaken. And even at its peak it is nothing compared to the powers others have. If steel could grant him strength, why shouldn't he take it?

"Colin?" Dragon's voice once again broke him out of his internal monologue.

"Apologies Dragon, I was just thinking." Colin spoke softly as he considered what to say to his friend. "And you are right, I do have some ulterior motives with Tech-Priest. No actual plans yet, but I do believe good relations with her are the most important thing right now. And did you see her reaction to my gift? It was probably the best response we got from her the whole interview, and now she may see me as some kind of ally, rather than a hindrance to her Tinkering."

Dragon sighed. In fact he could hear the frown in her voice as she spoke. "Colin, just… promise you'll be careful when you work with her. I understand we need to give her a chance, as well as keep her away from the villains. But don't lose sight of who you are and how much you've accomplished because of what she can offer you."

Mulling over her words, Colin eventually sighed and said. "I'll think about what you said."

Colin could hear the small smile return to Dragon's voice. "That's all I ask."

Nodding his head, Colin moved to exit the conference room. He would think about what Dragon said, but he would still think about what Taylor said. Weigh more pros and cons for enhancements over no enhancements, and come to his own conclusion of what he would do to engrave his name as one the greatest heroes in the world.

Amy slowly climbed out of her sister's arms as they reached Brockton Bay General. While Amy was usually rather dour about having to go to her shifts, she was especially gloomy as her sister Victoria landed at the hospital after leaving the Hebert household.

Vicky, picking up on Amy's melancholy sighed and said, "Hey Ames, I know everything with Taylor has been weird, but I think it'd be best if you just… forget about it. That girl has a whole host of problems, but you also have a whole host of problems, and she should not be one of yours. There's no point worrying over someone who doesn't want help."

Giving only a noncommittal shrug as her response, Amy chose to let her sister misunderstand her problem. Amy wasn't wholly concerned with Taylor and the damage she had done to herself. It was more what she plans to do, the changes she wants to make to herself which had been causing a veritable flood of ideas now swirling within Amy's mind.

Ideas for a whole host of improvements she could make to the human body. It started with the idea of changing a person's bone marrow to improve the immune system, but that alone has sprouted dozens of ideas in her mind. Why stop at changing the marrow alone? Why not strengthen the bones themselves with some kind of organic-ceramic compound to make them nearly unbreakable?

And if she's changing the bones, why not change the muscles as well? Stronger bones meant the body could support both a greater amount and denser muscle fibers, further increasing physical strength. But with the sheer amount of mass being added on, she'd need a larger heart. Or perhaps a second heart. That would ease the strain on the first heart of pumping blood through all of the extra mass, and that way should even the primary heart fail, the subject could stay alive.

So many ideas were running through her mind that she felt like she was going to go mad if she didn't get a chance to implement them. Extra lungs, super eyes, tougher skin that could absorb more damage or even radiation and heat, an improved digestive system to allow someone to eat a far wider range of foods all while ignoring toxins. It was only her discipline that she developed over the course of her years of healing while sticking to her rules that kept her acting out on these ideas.

"Yeah, I know." Amy finally sighed out as she caught Vicky looking at her worriedly. "It's just… it's complicated." She then gave her adopted sister a weak smile. "I'll tell you about it later, once I get my thoughts in order."

Vicky frowned, not liking Amy's answer, but she slowly nodded her head, accepting that her sister needed time. Floating over, Vicky gave Amy a big hug saying, "Just remember Ames, you can talk to me about anything."

Flashing her a practiced smile that hid her underlying feelings, Amy said, "Thanks Vicky. I'll see you in a few hours."

Returning with a big grin of her own, Vicky flew off, returning to their home. Amy then turned to the hospital entrance and walked inside. She would do her diligence, healing dozens of patients over the next few hours, but Amy was on autopilot. Her mind was on all of the changes she could make. On how easy it would be to turn a normal human into the transhuman, a being of superpowered abilities but not a Parahuman. Idly, Amy hoped that Taylor would call her. If there was anyone who she could talk to about these ideas of enhancements, it would be the mad Tinker seemingly obsessed with modifying her own body.

Coil watched the footage of Taylor Hebert aka Tech-Priest as she moved through the Rig, Brandish, her father, and two PRT grunts carrying boxes following behind her. His spies within the PRT had already gotten him access to the entire interview, which he had recorded and sent to Tattletale for analysis.

This girl had a powerful specialty, and if she could create Tinkertech weapons as well, she would be an extremely valuable asset. No longer would he have to invest millions of his own dollars into Toybox for their laser rifles and tracking devices. He would get Taylor on his side, whether as an employee, or a pet, if need be.

The phone beside Coil rang, and he answered it immediately. He knew playing games with Tattletale would only result in her figuring out he was trying to play games. "Tattletale." he said in the most neutral way he possibly could. "Have you finished reviewing the footage?"

"Hey Boss." Tattletale greeted, her voice professional. "Yeah I did. Hell of a find, this Tech-Priest."

"Indeed." Coil dryly remarked. "So tell me, what is your opinion on the girl? Do you believe she would be open to working with us? Either as a direct employee of my own, or perhaps a member of the Undersiders?"

Tattletale took a deep breath before responding, mostly likely to calm her nerves. "Tech-Priest has a more heroic inclination, given the fact that she still registered with the PRT, but with the right motivation, I think she'd be more than willing to turn against the Protectorate."

"And what is this motivation?"

"Tech-Priest is obsessed with her tech. As in, Bonesaw levels of obsessed. Complete with all the derangement. Her powers did something to her mind, changing the way she thinks and what she values. In the span of a couple of days she went from bullied, introverted girl to a fanatical zealot." Lisa explained. "Getting a chance to make more upgrades takes complete precedence over anything. If you want to go with the business recruitment, give her a blank check for supplies, a fully kitted out lab, and an ample supply of, subjects," Tattletale shuddered at that. "And she'll flip the double birds at the heroes and build you an army of cyborgs."

Coil nodded at that. While having a Tinker as volatile as a member of the Nine may prove troublesome, Coil believed he could find ways to keep her in line. "And if I want to forcibly recruit her?"

Coil heard Tattletale's breath hitch, obviously surprised he was being so forthright with her.

"If you're gonna hardball this, you'll have to do it now or in the near future." Tattletale supplied, though the reluctance to share this information was clear in her voice. "She's already planning on building a lot with what Armsmaster gave her. Anymore than a few days, she'll probably have her own lab set up already, complete with all of its Tinkertech defenses."

"Very good Tattletale. Thank you for your hard work." Coil then hung up and split the timeline.

In his primary timeline, he would exit his base, drive to his home, drink some wine, and then go to sleep. In his throwaway, he would send a team of mercenaries to Taylor Hebert's home and see whether or not the Tinker would be worth actually kidnapping.

The path has changed.

It's not often that it would change so much like it has, but it has happened before. Usually when someone or something extraordinarily powerful enters the scene, like a powerful new Trigger, or an Endbringer.

So much of the world's fate now hinged on some strange Tinker from the city of Brockton Bay. Ironic, considering the experiment they had in place there. Regardless, the others needed to be informed. Questions had to be asked, numbers had to be processed, and decisions had to be made.

"Door me." Contessa spoke two simple words, and a rectangular portal opened up in front her. Contessa stepped in.

Chapter Text

Friday, Jan. 28th

The first thing Taylor did as soon as Mrs. Dallon dropped her and her father at home was lock herself in the basement with the tools Armsmaster gave her and claim her Father's old workbench for her own. Danny called out after her, throwing out empty concerns like the fact that she needed to rest or eat or bathe. Taylor waved him off, saying she would do all of those later. What she needed to do at that exact moment was Tinker and nothing else.

After about five minutes of ignored protests, Danny eventually gave up and moved to cleaning up the kitchen and living room as Taylor continued working. Taylor worked at a rapid pace, even by Tinker standards. Weeks of being trapped in the hospital with no opportunity to flex her powers was maddening, and Armsmaster giving her supplies was the equivalent of a recovering drug addict being given a box of heroin. There was nothing on Taylor's mind but creating more TinkerTech. She barely cared about what she was making, she just wanted to make.

But at the end of the day, Taylor did have some idea of what she wanted to create. She needed defenses, a way to protect herself. And while Armsmaster's gift was great, it wouldn't be enough for her to build defensive turrets that she only had a vague idea of how to make.

Instead, she focused on the small scale. Personal weapons she could carry on herself. First she started fabricating the basic shell of her weapon. Once Taylor had drawn out the basic design and plans, she used the plasma cutter to cut out a mixture of steel and aluminium plates and pieces. Once she attached them all together with the Arc-Welder, she then stuffed its insides with electrical a mess of electrical wiring that somehow made sense to her mind.

Next, the power source had to be cannibalized from the Arc-Welder Armsmaster gave her, as it was the only thing she had which could generate enough energy she needed. Meanwhile she wasn't even really sure how she made the focusing lens she put at the end of the weapon's barrel. But regardless, once all of the pieces were assembled, she finished creating her first weapon, a Laspistol.

It was a light weapon to her, no heavier than a flashlight. The comparison brought a small smile to Taylor's lips, since the weapon actually emitted a beam of highly-energized, focused photons that generated extreme heat on contact. Against anyone who wasn't either armored or carrying a Brute rating, the laser beam would hit with the strength to burn off entire limbs with a single shot. While it was still somewhat underpowered in comparison to what Taylor felt she could eventually create, it would suffice for now.

Once she held her completed project in her hands, Taylor felt a wave of fatigue finally hit her. Absent-mindedly rubbing her organic eye, Taylor decided to check the time on what she hoped was a working basement clock. It was 2 am. Taylor couldn't remember the last time she had stayed up this late. Perhaps at one of her middle school sleepovers with Emm-

"RAAGH!" Taylor's mechanical fist slammed into her workbench as she shoved the memories into the deepest, darkest pits of her mind. There was no point in thinking of such times anymore. Emma was gone, sent to juvie, and she was still alive.

Looking down, Taylor saw that she had dented the wooden top of her workbench in her anger. She sighed, and carefully inspected her augmetic to ensure it wasn't damaged. Once she was sure it was undamaged, Taylor decided that she was going to go get some water before turning in and sleeping in her bed for the first time in weeks. But when she took one step up her basement staircase, from the floor above she heard several thunderous bangs, followed by the crash of splintering wood and the stomping of boots.

Several minutes ago…

"This is Bravo team, ready to move in." the gruff, professional voice of Bravo-1 whispered into his comm unit as he slowly approached the Hebert household.

Bravo-1, aka Peter Towns, former US Marsoc Raider and current private military contractor, quietly stalked his way towards the residential home. Him and his partner, Bravo-2, had been surveilling the Hebert household for hours, setting up when the family had just gotten home and reported every sign of movement inside to their boss.

A quiet part of Peter Towns' mind lamented the fact that he was performing a night raid operation against a young, American, teenage girl, but those feelings of morality were quickly quashed. In his time in the service, Peter learned to detach himself from the mission, to remove his emotions from the equation in order to accomplish his objective. The only difference between now and his time in the Marines was that instead of fighting for honor or freedom, he was simply fighting for a paycheck. A very, very hefty paycheck.

And so the hardened military veteran slowly inched his way to the urban home as he waited for the final go signal from his Boss.

"Bravo team, this is Coil." Speak of the Devil and he shall appear. Coil called in over their communicator, his voice cold and all honesty sinister. "You have the green light."

"Roger that. Bravo moving in." Peter curtly replied as he and his partner nodded at each other.

Silently, two mercenaries approached the kitchen window of the home, their black fatigues and tactical gear providing effective camouflage in the urban environment. Peeking in, Peter saw the secondary target, Daniel Hebert, sitting on a sofa in his living room, fast asleep as the TV and kitchen light were still on. ROE on the father was simple, eliminate him. There were still no signs of the primary target, but they had watched her enter her home's basement from their surveillance van, and she had yet to leave, so it was easy to assume she was still down there.

Moving to the main entrance, Bravo-1 and 2 stacked up, Bravo-1 standing behind Bravo-2. Peter readied his M4 carbine, complete with a TinkerTech underbarrel laser, while his partner pulled out a Remington shotgun and aimed it at the top hinge of the door. This was a smash and grab, so once things kicked off, they would focus on speed, surprise, and violence rather than stealth.

"3… 2...1…" Peter whispered out, "And… breach!"

Immediately Bravo-2 fired his shotgun, destroying the door hinge. After a quick pump, the middle and bottom hinges were destroyed and Bravo-2 kicked the door the rest of the way down. Bravo-1 moved into the home, and immediately aimed his carbine towards where he knew the secondary target was.

The secondary target was on his feet, staring at his door wide eyed and in shock. By the time he realized what was happening, Bravo-1 had already pulled the trigger of his gun, and Daniel Hebert's brains painted his living room walls. Secondary objective complete, Bravo team moved to the basement entrance, stacking up once again on the right side of the basement door.

Unlike the secondary objective, the primary objective was to be taken in alive, so Bravo-1 switched from his carbine to a handheld taser he would use to subdue the target. Bravo-2 tested the door handle and found it locked. He looked to Bravo-1, who only nodded in response.

Aiming his shotgun, Bravo-2 blew the hinges off of this door, kicking it down as he did the main entrance. Immediately the two mercenaries rushed down the stairs, turning to look for the target as soon as they reached the bottom. They quickly found her, as the basement itself was not that large, only a single room. There, they saw Taylor Hebert staring back at them, snarling with rage, and a pistol in her hands.

"Drop-" That's as much as Bravo-2 was able to say before his head popped like a water balloon, sending superheated blood and gore everywhere.

Bravo-1 flinched as he was suddenly coated by chunks of his partner, covering his face as he tried to block the spray of blood. That was a mistake that he knew would be fatal, as it left him open to another attack. Fate seemed to be on his side however, as Taylor's laser pistol had exploded in her own hand, failing after the first shot.

Recovering his wits, Bravo-1 fired his taser at the target. Seeing the attack coming, Taylor raised her robot arm to protect her face. It just so happened that she raised her arm in a way that both prongs of the taser went into her prosthetic. And when the electrical current ran out of the taser, it went into Taylor's cybernetic to no apparent effect.

Both Taylor and Bravo-1 looked at the taser prongs, dumbfounded by what just happened. Then Taylor reacted first. No longer armed with her laser gun, Taylor dropped smoking slag and turned around, picking up the first thing she could use as a weapon. Fortunately for her, that turned out to be a diamond-tipped circular hand saw.

Pushing the trigger of the saw, the tool roared with an angry buzzzzzz whileTaylor screamed in harmony with it, charging at the mercenary. Cursing, Bravo-1 dropped the taser, and reached for his carbine, but he was too slow. Taylor made her way across the basement before Bravo-1 could raise his gun, and dug the buzz saw into his shoulder

The diamond-tipped blades easily chewed through the man's kevlar vest, then through his skin, and then his collarbone as he screamed in pain and horror. Peter Towns never knew such excruciating pain in his life as he collapsed backwards, falling to the ground.

When Peter landed he was still alive, hand saw embedded in his shoulder. But he felt the pool of blood rapidly forming around him. His breathing was fast and quickly becoming shallow, while he was losing all strength in his limbs. Looking up, he saw the face of his target, Taylor Hebert, looking back down on him with contempt and disgust. Then, her face changed to that of fear as she seemed to realize something.

"Dad!" she shouted as she bounded up the stairs, leaving Peter bleeding on her basement floor.

Taylor ran up the stairs as fast as she could, her augmetics straining under the pressure. So many questions were running through her mind right now. How!? How did these people find her already!? Was the PRT coming after her? Or was there a leak and this was the work of a villain? But most importantly, the biggest question on Taylor Hebert's mind was, where was her Father?

"Dad! Dad!" Taylor screamed, straining her vocalizer as she entered her kitchen.

When Taylor got to the living room, she saw him. She saw her Dad, unmoving, with a hole in his head and his blood splattered across the livingroom walls. Taylor's Dad was dead, and with him, so too did the last dregs of Taylor's humanity die.

Taylor did not shed any tears. No, they were something she no longer needed. Sadness was something she no longer needed. Leaving the corpse of Daniel Hebert where it was, Taylor slowly walked back down the stairs of her basement. This area was no longer safe, and she needed to leave. She needed to get out and find somewhere safe. She also needed some protection.

She sighed to herself. It was unfortunate her first iteration of the Laspistol failed, but it was a good learning experience. Perhaps she needed stronger resistors, or she needed to dial down the amount of power she was feeding it. Maybe the wiring she used needed to be replaced? All things she could figure out with further testing. As she reached the basement, she stepped over the corpse of the man she killed with the Laspistol and moved to gather her things. That's when the moan of the man she maimed with the circular saw stole her attention.

Turning her head, Taylor glanced at the criminal on the floor. He was losing a lot of blood, and would die soon. But… but that would be a waste of a good subject. She needed protection, and he owed her for killing Daniel Hebert and causing her to prematurely destroy her Laspistol.

Slowly, Taylor walked over to the home invader, and she kneeled down next to him. The man was crying, no doubt in excruciating pain, as his eyes were becoming glassly from blood loss.

"You… are a criminal." Taylor said to him, causing his weak gaze to slowly flick to her. "Because of your crimes, you owe me a debt. You owe… humanity a debt. This is a debt you will pay with your flesh." Taylor bent down and ripped the saw from his shoulder, eliciting a pained gasp from him. She then got some rags and pressed them to the wound, tying it down with duct tape.

Once she was done, she then went to the back and pulled out some rubber tubing, and wrapped it around his right arm, just above the bicep. Almost exactly where she lost her arm. The mercenary whimpered as she did so.

"Shhhhh." she whispered into his ear. "Do not worry. The pain… will be temporary. I am going to make you better! You wasted your life on crime, but now, I shall give you a higher purpose! One dedicated to humanity! Dedicated to the machine!"

Taylor paused to think. "No, not just the machine. But... something more. The… will of the machine? The spirit of the machine." Then Taylor's eyes went wide as she had an epiphany. "To the God of the Machine!" she shouted, raising her hands into the air.

As Taylor ranted, the subject tried to crawl away, weakly pushing himself with legs that wouldn't respond. Taylor looked down as he flailed and sighed. "I suppose you don't see it yet." Taylor stepped on the compress she placed on his shoulder and he screamed once more. "Don't worry. I will make you see."

Taylor then took the circular saw and placed it against his arm. She depressed the trigger, and began the process of ascension.

"Sir! Teams Alfa and Charlie are ready to move in!" Alfa-1 shouted over the comms, ready to rush into the Hebert household.

"You will hold your position!" Coil snapped at the mercenary captain. "Follow my orders and I promise, all of you will return home alive!"

There was too long a silence over the radio for Coil's liking.

"Roger sir." The Captain finally acknowledged.

Coil had to resist the urge to have the insubordinate team leader shot. He supposed he could understand why he wanted to go in so much. While it was unfortunate that Bravo team had failed in their acquisition of Taylor, there was a boon in their failure. Taylor did not notice that both members of Bravo team were wearing body cams on their vests with open mics. This gave Coil and his other mercenary teams a two camera view of Taylor practically vivisecting Bravo-1 and turning him into whatever cybernetic monstrosity she was turning him into.

Morbidly, Coil wondered if this was what watching Bonesaw work looked like. Even Coil, who had long since grown desensitized to horror after committing many atrocities himself, found himself somewhat disgusted by what he was seeing.

First, Taylor started with the arm, amputating it off with the circular saw. It wasn't a clean cut, Bravo-1's twisting and writhing caused Taylor to slip a bit, resulting in an awkward, angled amputation. Bravo-1 stopped moving, and Coil wondered if he finally bled out. But then Taylor went to her workbench and pulled out what looked to be some kind of pipe. Taylor shoved it into the stump where his arm once was, metal surrounding the bone, the shock waking Bravo-1 as he screamed again.

She quickly began using that pipe as a base to start crafting a cylindrical metal device. The device had a simple hinge joint, and Coil could guess it was some kind of attachment point or base plate for a prosthetic. He was proved right as Taylor fitted the attachment point over the metal pipe and atop the exposed meat of Bravo-1's arm.

Coil thought she was done, but Taylor still needed to secure the base plate to his flesh. Taylor's answer to that problem was a nail gun and duct tape. Bravo-1 screamed with each nail inserted into his bicep, pinning the metal to his flesh. The duct tape secured the rest of it, and kept blood from leaking out.

Next, Taylor began disassembling the stock of Bravo-1's M4 carbine. She quickly fabricated a hinge joint that she attached to its rear, and from there inserted it into Bravo-1's newest arm-slot. Coil almost snorted. Taylor had given Bravo-1 a gun-arm. A fucking gun-arm.

While working on the ballistic prosthetic, Taylor finally seemed to take note of the underbarrel laser attachment on the gun, one of Coil's purchases from Pyrotechnical. Because he didn't have his own Tinker who could create and maintain Tinkertech weapons for him, he was constantly forced to purchase the disposable, limited use attachments and weapons from Toybox, a significant expenditure of his personal wealth.

Taylor removed the attachment from the M4, and manhandled the potentially volatile equipment in a way that only a Tinker would be willing to do. She was immediately analyzing it, whispering to herself as her mind dove into a Tinker fugue.

"Interesting. Uses some kind of Ionized gas rather than photons? Plasma, rather than lasers? What kind of power source does this use for such a small device?" Taylor muttered to herself, staring intently at the item. A moan from Bravo-1 drew her back to reality. "Ah, apologies. I can examine this later. One must have priorities after all."

Taylor put the laser attachment on her workbench and went back to Bravo-1, looking him over, as if contemplating what to do next.

"Ah!" she gasped, as if remembering something. "Of course. The control unit! How could I forget?"

The teen then went to her workbench, grabbing her laptop, a handful of electronic parts, and a manual hand saw used for cutting metal. She placed all of the parts next to Bravo-1 as she moved behind him. She sat him up, and placed his back against the wall so he would remain upright.

"There we go." Taylor huffed as she finished dragging him. "Don't want anything important to fall out, do we?" Taylor patted his face with her robotic hand as she then pulled his balaclava off.

Bravo-1 barely showed any signs of life. Unresponsive with his eyelids half closed, his slow, shallow breathing being the only thing that indicated he was still alive. Taking the saw in her organic hand, Taylor placed the teeth of the saw against Bravo-1's temple. Then she began cutting.

It was a long, arduous process as Taylor continually moved her arm back and forth, back and forth, each push and pull tearing apart skin, hair, and bone as she cut deeper into Bravo-1's skull. Coil wondered why she didn't use the circular saw for this part. Perhaps she was afraid it was too uncontrollable and she'd damage the organ inside? Coil also lowered the volume of the video as the noise of metal grinding against bone soon became grating even to his ears.

Eventually after several minutes of labor, Taylor finished her task, and removed the top of Bravo-1's skull from his head, exposing his brain to the world.

"You know my friend." Taylor said to Bravo-1 as she began noodling around in his cerebrum, attaching wires and diodes to the wrinkled lobes. "I once read that the human brain has the processing power that puts supercomputers to shame. And I'm sure you'd like to ask me, how could I improve on such a marvelous design? The answer to that, is that I won't!" Taylor then stuck a diode into the rear of Bravo-1's brain, causing a muscle spasm.

Taylor nodded, satisfied. "Good reaction. See, your higher intelligence has sent you down a criminal path that has hurt others. So, best to just strip all of that away and start from scratch. You'll become a far more productive member of society this way!" Taylor then began looking across Bravo-1's body, rifling through his pockets until she eventually found what she was looking for, a cell phone. "I knew you'd have one of these!" she excitedly said.

Taking a hammer, Taylor smashed the side of the cell phone, cracking open the case and exposing the circuitry underneath. Carefully, she pulled out the phone's cpu and USB connector. She attached the CPU to the brain itself, and then attached the USB port to the rear of his skull, allowing her access to it from the outside. With that done, she quickly soldered wires between all of the previously placed circuits to the CPU. It was a meticulous process, but one Taylor performed with surprising dexterity.

Once she finished, Taylor replaced the skull cap back onto Bravo-1's head, and began looking for a way to secure it back on. Coil watched as she grabbed the nail gun she used to attach the M4 to Bravo-1's Arm, and looked back and forth between the tool and his head. After several seconds of deliberation, Taylor put the nail gun down, deeming it too likely to kill him if she used it. Instead, Taylor opted for duct tape once again. Coil was reminded of a joke he had once heard, where if something was moving when it shouldn't, just keep applying duct tape till it stopped. Taylor had apparently heard of the same joke, as she wound the tape around Bravo-1's head until his skull cap was once again securely in place.

"There we go." Taylor said, satisfied with herself. "Now then, what's next? Would you like me to replace your eyes with an enhanced targeting system? Or perhaps some armor integrated into your body?"

Taylor wouldn't get a chance to choose, as the distant sound of police sirens cut her train of thought. It was obvious that someone would call the police with how violent Bravo's entrance was, and it seemed that they were finally arriving.

"Fuck!" Taylor cursed as she ran to the laptop, immediately plugging it into the USB port in the back of Bravo-1's head.

Coil shared her sentiment. "Anyone who is still outside the AO pull back now! But I want cameras on the house!" Immediately his mercenaries complied, teams Alfa and Charlie pulling back before the police got any closer.

Meanwhile, Taylor was rapidly tapping away at her keyboard, most likely breaking some kind of record for words typed per minute. As she typed, Bravo-1 spasmed once more, eyes shooting open despite the excruciating pain and blood loss he no doubt must have been experiencing. Bravo-1 looked at Taylor, his face completely blank.

Practically out of breath, Taylor shouted at Bravo-1. "You are combat servitor designation Jovian Alpha-Alpha! You shall follow my every command and instruction, and protect me from any bodily harm!" The man that was once Bravo-1 dumbly groaned an acknowledgement. "Very good. Now, follow me. We cannot trust the police or the PRT, and we will have to strike out on our own."

Coil watched as his primary fear was confirmed, Taylor could Master cyborgs she worked on as Bravo-1 stood and meekly followed Taylor's orders. That was going to be a problem.

Without stopping, Taylor continued to move around her basement. She found an old gym bag and began throwing as many tools and raw materials as she could fit inside. She took a brief moment to pause as she looked over the body of Bravo-2, and made the snap decision to take his ballistic vest, his shotgun, pistol, and accompanying ammunition.

Now fully armed, Taylor ascended the stairs alongside her cyborg-companion, who continued to follow dumbly behind her. As she ascended the stairs, Taylor's face was illuminated by the red-blue lights of the police car outside of her home.

"You inside the house!" The policeman shouted, pistol pointed at the Hebert home. "Come out with your hands up!" It was a single policeman, no doubt a more veteran officer who most likely patrolled by himself.

Taylor clicked her teeth. "Jovian Alpha-Alpha, secure me a vehicle."

Groan, was the only response Bravo-1 gave. Coil watched from Charlie Team's position across the street as the combat servitor advanced out of the home.

"Ho-Holy fuck!" The police officer said as he aimed his pistol as the Bravo-1 and fired twice, both bullets impacting center mass.

Unfortunately for the officer, the rounds only impacted his ballistic vest. Even if they had gone through, Coil doubted Bravo-1 would've even felt any pain. Bravo-1 groaned at the officer and lifted his arm, aiming the M4 at him. The carbine sprayed wildly, using up the entire magazine. But there were enough bullets in the volley that one stray round hit the officer in the throat, sending him to the ground, choking on his own blood.

Taylor nodded at her mechanical servant's work. She walked up to the police car, its keys still in the ignition.

She paused before going in, turning to look at Bravo-1 and asked, "Do you know how to drive?"

Bravo-1 only groaned in response.

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Of course not." She moved over to the passenger side and opened the door, gesturing for Bravo-1 to get in. The cyborg complied. Taylor then walked back to the driver's side and sat in the chair, saying to herself, "Okay, I can drive a car. How hard can it be? I literally just performed brain surgery."

The police cruiser shot forward as she stepped on the gas, mounting the curb and almost running into a lamp post. Taylor jerked the wheel and narrowly avoided the collision, returning to the street and driving off into the night.

Coil ended the timeline there.

Thomas Calvert sat at his home's office desk as he finished writing his notes on what occurred on the now voided timeline. He never had any intention of keeping that timeline, as he wanted to use it as more of a test to see what the young Tinker was capable of. And who would've thought that a freshly Triggered Tinker could be so dangerous? The dropped timeline had proved even more fortuitous than he ever thought it would.

First, he learned Taylor could in fact create laser weaponry. That alone made it worth it to recruit her to his cause. Second, was that this confirmed the sheer, psychotic lethality of Taylor. She had maimed and modified Bravo-1 in a way that made it look like the Nine had visited her home. All focused on an intense hatred of criminals. Dangerous, but useful if she could be directed at the right target.

Thirdly, and most importantly, he learned that Taylor had the capability of Mastering her test subjects. This was the biggest wrench in his plan. It was too dangerous to just go to her and have her start enhancing his mercenaries. He'd need to figure out some kind of safeguards against Taylor. He had protocols set up based on the PRT's own Master/Stranger protocols, but he doubted it would be enough.

Meanwhile, the combination of the second and third points made the idea of forcibly recruiting her a tenuous one at best. A gun to the head worked on Tattletale because Lisa ultimately had no way of striking back at Calvert, and didn't have the will to do terrible things necessary in order to reach him. Taylor would have both. The last thing Calvert needed was an army of killer cyborgs coming after him.

No, he would have to play this diplomatically. Set the stage so that Taylor would want to work with him. He needed her to be loyal by choice, not by force so she would have no reason to betray him. It would take time and money to get everything into place, but Coil had the luxury of both.

Chapter Text

Saturday, Jan. 29th…

Danny woke up to the sizzle of grease and the smell of bacon and eggs. Momentarily confused by his surroundings, it took a moment for Danny to realize that he had fallen asleep in his living room, and that it was now morning.

Groggily rubbing his face, Danny got up from his recliner and moved towards the kitchen, where he saw Taylor cooking breakfast, dressed in a loose pair of jogging pants and an old T-shirt rather than that red Christmas blanket she was using as a robe. That was a good sign at least.

"Father." Taylor's respirator buzzed, "You have awakened. I have prepared sustenance for us."

Danny tried not to wince at Taylor's strangely formal language and mechanical voice. Well, at least she wasn't turning the oven into a flamethrower or something. Small victories, he supposed.

"Thank you, Taylor." Danny said with a strained smile as he sat down at their kitchen table.

Taylor then divided the food between the two of them, eggs, bacon, and some toasted bread with butter on the side. Not exactly a healthy breakfast, but after the day both of them had yesterday, he supposed they both needed a hardy meal. Sitting down herself, Taylor removed her respirator, pulling it down around her neck and the two ate in silence. Danny almost cringed at how normal this was. How comfortable it was to not speak to his daughter.

Part of Danny wanted to not say anything. For them to just go back to the way they were before, living separate, but parallel lives. Being together, but alone at the same time. He killed that thought. When did he become so afraid to talk to his own daughter? When did awkward silence and banal small talk become the norm? No, he had to put a stop to it now, no matter how bad he didn't want to. He couldn't call himself a Father, Hell he couldn't call himself a man if he didn't.

When Taylor had finished her meal she moved to pick up her plate when Danny stopped her. "Hold on Taylor, I got that." He said as he stood from his seat grabbing his own dishes before picking up hers. "Just sit there for a bit, I wanted to talk to you before you go off doing… whatever it is you're going to be doing."

Taylor stared blankly at Danny, her eyes betraying no emotion as she was probably mentally processing his words. With a small shrug, Taylor replaced the mask on her face and leaned back, waiting for her Dad to finish with the dishes. Danny gave her a small smile as he quickly moved to place the dishes in the sink and wash his hands. He then sat down across from her, and looked her dead in the eyes. Taylor didn't flinch as she stared back at him.

"So Taylor." Danny began, taking a deep breath. "I know we haven't exactly been... the closest, since your Mother died. But given everything that has happened, I want to change that. I want us to start talking again."

"About what?" Taylor answered, eyebrow raised.

Danny rubbed the back of his head. "Well, I think it's best if we start with the elephant in the room, your future, Taylor. I know you don't want to work with the PRT, and honestly I'm ecstatic that you don't want to be a hero, but I'm still concerned, Taylor. Hell I'll even say I'm scared kiddo. Scared that some villain is going to find you, kidnap you, and I'll never see you again."

For the first time today, Danny saw a flash of real emotion on Taylor's face, her brows creasing in some combination of shame and worry. Then it was gone. "I have built some protection already." she replied. Reaching for the back of her waists she pulled a pistol with a large, blocky body.

Danny was silent for a moment as he stared at it. "Is that a gun?"

"A lasgun." Taylor said proudly.

"How… dangerous is it?"

Taylor looked at Danny like he was an idiot. "Dangerous enough. I had to perform some fine tuning this morning. It appears that in my sleep deprived state last night I had accidentally overcharged the power supply. If I tried to shoot it, it would've exploded in my hands." Taylor chuckled at the mistake. Danny didn't find it funny at all. "But I performed the necessary rites and adjustments, so it should be fine now." She holstered the gun back into the strap of her pants.

Danny tried to find something to say but couldn't. "Just… be careful with that stuff Taylor." He then took a deep breath as he ran his hands through his hair. "Okay, so you built yourself a laser gun. I can live with that, I think. But where do you want to go from here? All honesty this is so far from what your Mother and I planned for you that I'm open to suggestions."

"Next I will need a place for a new workshop, as well as access to raw materials." Taylor said. "What Armsmaster gave me was great, but it will not be enough. The basement will not be enough. I recall yesterday you spoke of good news. I assume we won the lawsuit?"

Danny nodded his head. "Yep. I'll be honest it kinda fell by the wayside with everything that happened yesterday, but you're about 2 million dollars richer Taylor." Danny still couldn't help but smile at that.

"Good." Taylor didn't seem to share his enthusiasm. "We can use that money to purchase land or perhaps a building in which I can create my workshop. Do you know of any old warehouses, factories, or industrial centers around the docks which would suit my needs?"

The question caught Danny off guard. He hadn't expected Taylor to want to expand so quickly. Then he actually took the time to think on her question and said, "There are plenty of unused warehouses along the docks that have been condemned and taken by the government. It would be cheap to purchase them from the City. Maybe even a few rust-belt factories." Danny shrugged. "I can head into the office today to check the records for any available properties."

Taylor nodded. "That would be very helpful, Father. Next, while I can slowly expand my arsenal, I fear you are correct that not only I, but we are still vulnerable. As such I wish to see if any dock workers would be willing to work for me as personal security."

"Like henchmen?" Danny raised an eyebrow.

"Like bodyguards." Taylor countered. "With the money you say we now have, we should be able to pay a decent salary to them, and protecting your daughter would be a more appealing job than becoming actual henchmen for the city's villains. And once I find a way to successfully monetize my abilities, I could expand that group, as well as hire workers as laborers in my workshop."

Danny had to concede that the point had merit. "That's not a bad idea, and I could think of a few of the boys who aren't afraid to get rough when needed. Though I don't think that dock workers armed with pipes and wrenches will do much against capes or gangsters armed with guns."

"A fair point, but one I believe I have a solution for. Tell me, how many Dockworkers, or former dock workers have crippling or debilitating injuries that have put them out of work?"

It wasn't hard for Danny to see where Taylor was going with this. "You want to make them cyborgs in exchange for protecting you." Danny tried to keep his voice level, but he couldn't help but be somewhat repulsed by the idea.

"I am giving them their lives back in exchange for protecting me." Taylor snapped back, picking up on her Father's feelings. Her face briefly shifted to regret for yelling at Danny, before her mask of impassivity resumed. "For protecting us."

Danny chewed on the inside of his lip, thinking of what to say, until he finally groaned, rubbing his palms on his face. "Okay… Okay I can ask around. See if we have anyone like that."

"Thank you." Taylor bowed her head. "Is that it?" she then asked, seemingly wanting to leave.

"Not yet." Danny put up a hand, keeping Taylor from moving. Taylor huffed, and remained still. "I wanted to ask what you want to do about school."

Scoffing, Taylor almost stood and walked away there. "There is no point in school anymore. I had barely learned anything when I went, and if anything it would be 7 hours a day where I would be out of the protection of my lab."

"There's Arcadia." Danny countered. "The Wards go there, as well as Carol's kids. We could see if you could get transferred there." Normally trying to get a transfer to Arcadia would be a colossal task with their waitlist, but the fact that Taylor was a Parahuman could get her in early.

"The Wards are hidden amongst the masses, while Victoria is invincible and Amy, far too valuable to hurt. The Wards and the Dallon children are not like me. " Taylor flatly responded. Danny was about to say something, thinking that Taylor was ashamed of her own appearance. He wanted to give the reassurances that a Father should so his daughter would feel comfortable in her own body, that despite her cybernetics she was still a beautiful, little girl. "They do not have the resolution that I do." That was not what Danny expected.

Taylor continued. "They try to live double lives. Half as normal humans, and half as Parahumans. That is a mistake, a literal half measure at best. They cannot do what I can, achieve what I am able, because they do not have the will to completely devote themselves to do what must be done. If it means so much to you, I can complete a GED on my own, but school is just an unnecessary distraction now."

"Do what must be done? Danny parroted. "What are you talking about? What is it you plan on doing?"

Taylor looked down, thoughtful for a moment, carefully considering her next words. "Father, my powers… are a gift. More so than the powers of someone like Glory Girl, or even Panacea. And I do not say that in arrogance. Beyond just fighting villains, beyond just making money, I feel… no, I know, I can do something more." She then looked back up and met her Father's eyes. "With my powers, I can help Brockton Bay. I can make Brockton Bay a better place. Father, I wish to save Brockton Bay."

Holding Taylor's eyes, Danny saw the sheer stubbornness of his daughter. No, it wasn't emotional, fiery stubbornness, but instead a cold, focused resoluteness. A single-minded determination, a single-minded belief that the path she was choosing was the right one. Part of Danny had to feel proud that Taylor felt so strongly about saving the city. It reminded him of Annette. It reminded him how much he had failed Taylor for her to become like this.

Danny sighed, mulling over his failures of the past few years, before he finally spoke. "I… have not been a good Father to you." he said shamefully, the seeming non sequitur confusing Taylor. "Ever since your Mother died, I've… never really been there for you, have I? Hell I didn't even know you were being bullied until I saw you half dead in your hospital bed."

This time, it was Danny looking back at Taylor with resolute eyes of his own. "But no more. I won't just… ignore you because it's easier than talking to you. Than helping you. Taylor… I failed you, and I don't know if you could ever really forgive me for that. I won't forgive myself for it. So I want to be there for you Taylor, for whatever it is you want to do. If you want to leave school, you have my support. If you think you can save the city, you have my support. Taylor, whatever it is you choose to do, I want to do whatever is in my power to help you achieve it."

Danny's words had shocked Taylor, as she sat taken aback, eyes wide at her Father's words. Hell Danny's words shocked himself.

The two Heberts stared at each other for agonizingly long seconds, until Taylor stood up from their dining table. She walked up to Danny, who then rose to meet his approaching daughter. Without hesitation, Taylor threw her arms around her Father, wrapping him in a deep hug. Danny could feel his shirt grow wet from her tears.

"Thanks, Dad." Taylor softly muttered into his chest.

"You're welcome, Little Owl."

Tuesday, Feb 1st…

Taylor stood in front of the abandoned factory her Father found for her. True to his words, there was a plethora of condemned and unused warehouses and factories within the docks for Taylor and her Father to tour and peruse. This was the third such building Taylor visited today, the last two being abandoned storage warehouses for shipping.

Like the rest of the docks around her, this factory was a dilapidated, ramshackle building with cracked mortar, rusted metal, and shattered glass. The factory itself was a red-brick building that looked to be about four stories tall and two hundred feet long. On its front, there was a massive, steel sliding door that was coated in rust and chipped paint, most likely used to move machines and tools in and finished products out, while the sides were covered with a series of small, square windows, many of which were shattered or stained to the point she could not see through it. Above the entrance, Taylor could see a faded sign that had the barely legible words, "James and Lawson Machine Tool Company."

"Doesn't really look like much on the outside, does it?" Danny said with pursed lips from beside Taylor.

"The more nondescript the building, the better." Taylor replied. "Were it in good condition, it would be a spotlight advertising my location."

Danny hummed. "I suppose you're right. Alright boys let's open her up!" he then shouted behind him.

Behind Danny and Taylor was a group of four dock workers, whom Danny trusted and Taylor had hired as muscle for the day. The four, burly men forced the main entrance open, their faces covered by bandanas or masks to protect from dust and mold. Slowly but surely the factory opened up, revealing the treasure within.

"I shall go in first." Taylor said, striding forward, but Danny then put a hand on her shoulder.

"Is that the best idea? There might be animals or Merchants squatting inside."

Taylor pulled out from his grip. "If there is danger then it is even better that I go in first. I am the only one who is both armed and armored." She then gestured not only to her laspistol on her hip holster, but a grey-gunmetal breastplate made of blocky, layered steel and aluminum-oxide ceramic armor plates. It was the second piece of protective equipment Taylor built for herself, a flak vest.

Danny shook his head as he muttered. "I still don't get how you were able to make bullet proof armor from all that scrap metal."

"Same way Tinkers create anything. Bullshit." Taylor walked in, drawing her laspistol.

The interior of the factory was as rundown as the exterior. Lights were broken, a veritable dump of trash was scattered about, and a large dust cloud puffed out as the doors opened up. Luckily for Taylor, her respirator blocked out any hazardous particulates within the air, and her eye augmetic gave her perfect vision in the dark. Taylor did not immediately see any threats or squatters, and after a scan she decided the factory was safe.

Now free to take a closer look, Taylor saw that there were a few old machines that were left behind when the owners abandoned the building. There was a large conveyor belt that ran across the length of the factory floor, as well as the remains of stations where workers would have once stood. Next to the conveyor belt, there were a few abandoned machines used for fabrication of the products this once great building produced. Taylor recognized something that looked like a hydraulic press, shaped to stamp out sheet metal into specific designs, and an industrial sized drill press.

While Taylor could think of a few uses for all of these, they were unfortunately extraordinarily corroded, and she had her doubts that she could get them running again. At least they could be used for spare parts.

"I have to say it looks even worse on the inside." Danny muttered as he walked beside Taylor, his own mask now covering his face.

"You see piles of trash. I see mountains of opportunity." Taylor said.

Danny grunted, opening up a manila folder in his hands and began reading. "According to the city's records, this factory belonged to the now defunct James and Lawson Machine Tool Company. It was built in the early 1900s, and hit its stride during WWI and WWII, getting government contracts for production of tools for the military." Danny listed off as he examined the broken down conveyor belt. "Post war the factory kept working, but when manufacturing started leaving the US in the 70s, combined with how outdated the factory was, it eventually shut down, alongside other factories like Redmond Welding a few blocks away."

"Is that factory also on the docket?" Taylor asked.

Danny shook his head. "No, unfortunately someone purchased that building a few months ago. Besides, I think you'll find that this building is far more impressive than any of the others we've seen." The crinkling of Danny's eyes suggested he was grinning at his daughter.

Taylor raised an eyebrow in return. "How so?"

"Well you see, again according to the city records, part of the reason James and Lawson went out of business was that during the Cuban Missile Crisis, the owners had something of a very justifiable panic." Using the notes, he walked up to a specific door on the right side of the building and opened it up, revealing a staircase going downwards. They descended, Danny turning on a large flashlight so he could see. They were walking through a creepy, dank sublevel made of cinder block walls lined with unused pipes and ductwork. "So they renovated the place, and expanded the basement into a fully functioning fallout shelter. Unfortunately for them, the cost of renovation, combined with the flight of manufacturing drove the company straight into the ground. "

As he said that, they approached a large, sealed door that Taylor could tell was lead-lined steel door. The door was rusted and heavy, and had a rotating handle in its center that reminded Taylor of hatches and doors on Navy ships. Without hesitating, Taylor grabbed the hatch with her prosthetic and pulled.

To say it was difficult to open the door would've been an understatement. Metal groaned and cried as it slowly moved, its displeasure at years of corrosion and lack of oil making itself known. Eventually, Danny and another dock worker had to throw on a pair of work gloves and help, and between the three of them the latches securing it eventually gave way.

Slowly, the door creaked open, revealing its insides. The fallout shelter was a long cylindrical room, extending perhaps a hundred feet in length, while the room itself, being a cylinder, was about twelve feet in diameter. The shelter's walls were made of metal, probably the same lead-lined steel as the door, and was divided into three separate sections.

The third closest to the door looked like some kind of kitchen, where there was a rotted, wooden dining table, a gas stove, and similarly rotted shelves that once contained rows of canned food, cookware, and utensils. The middle third looked to be the "living room" of the shelter, where an abandoned couch sat across an antennaed TV, placed next to a bookshelf with a variety of crumbling books and aged board games. There also looked to be a desk of some kind there.

On the far end of the shelter was the sleeping area, where about half a dozen cots hung from the walls of the shelter alongside some shelves and steel boxes for personal items. The boxes were all empty, while the mattresses upon the cots had all rotted away. The only separate room was at the very end of the shelter on the complete opposite side of the entrance, which led to a bathroom with one toilet, sink, and shower. To Taylor's surprise, they were not that disgusting or grimy, a testament to how sealed the shelter was she supposed.

"So what do you think?" Danny asked once Taylor finished her inspection and they returned to the factory's main floor.

"You were right. This building is most impressive." Taylor nodded. "I say we purchase this land. It will take some time to get it in working order, but I will be able to do much with it when it's done."

Danny flipped to the next page of his notes. "We can, but even at the foreclosed price, this is going to be pretty costly. It'll take up a good chunk of the money we got from your case. And that's not even getting into labor costs for the clean up, and whatever tools you want to purchase." He then turned to his daughter and asked. "What do you plan on doing here anyway?"

"The main floor needs to be cleared out. I will see if I can rebuild any of the machines left behind, but if not I can cannibalize them for parts. I will then convert the factory floor into something more of a machine shop. I can store larger tools like lathes, mills, drills, and saws there, using the area for large scale projects. A metal scrapper and smelter wouldn't be a bad idea either. Meanwhile, I think I will convert this bomb shelter into my own personal workshop and laboratory for more… delicate procedures, and deadly weapons."

Danny huffed as he started doing some cost calculations. "Well you certainly don't like to think small kiddo."

"Saving Brockton Bay is no small problem." Taylor coldly retorted.

Danny frowned. "I suppose not. Regardless, I can get a crew together and we can get this place cleaned up in a few days. Afterwards we can get your machines in."

"Excellent. And the other favor I asked for?" Taylor looked up at her Father.

Pursing his lips, Danny said. "Yeah I made some calls. They're all at the DWA building right now. I can get them sent over here. It's a short drive."

Taylor nodded. "If you would be so kind."

Returning the gesture, Danny walked away from his daughter. Approaching one of the hired hands, Danny asked the man to call the DWA, as Danny himself did not have a cell phone. Once the call was made, the group waited about 15 minutes until a white van drove up to the factory. The rear of the van opened up, and a ramp extended out. Two of the dockworkers helped a man in a wheelchair descend. The side door of the van also opened, and four men exited, the uniting factor between all of them being that they all had some kind of debilitating injury. Two were missing one of their arms, a third was wearing an eyepatch and had a left hand missing several fingers, and the fourth had an extreme limp and walked with a cane.

The five men were presented before Taylor, each crippled or disabled in their own ways, no longer able to perform in the laborious blue-collar work that once supported their livelihoods. And they were exactly what Taylor needed.

One of the five men, a taller, more broad shouldered man with weathered white skin and a close shaved buzz cut stepped forward towards Taylor. He was missing his left arm, and Taylor could see scars running down his left neck and face.

"So yer Danny's little girl, eh?" The man said, his voice grizzled and rough. "I was wondering why he called all of us out when he knew we were shit for dock work now, but now I can see what he was thinking."

Danny frowned as the man said that. "Merrick, you and the others aren't useless. It's just that we barely have any jobs that fit you."

The man, apparently named Merrick, just gave a hearty chuckle. "Jobs don't fit cause I'm down a fucking arm Danny. I'm just calling it like I see it." He shook his head and focused on Taylor. "But where are my manners? The name's Scott Merrick, former member of the DWA."

Taylor nodded slightly. "Taylor Hebert. Tell me, Mr. Merrick, how did you lose your arm?"

Merrick smirked slightly. "Don't beat around the bush do you? Well I guess if there's anyone who can relate it's you. Me, I was working a night shift at one of the warehouses one day when a group of E88 came to visit. They wanted whatever it was that was in the warehouse, and were led by Hookwolf of all people. Course I didn't know that at the time, and my Marine training kicked in. Beat down two of the skinheads before Hookwolf took my arm in return. Heroes barely got there in time to scare him off."

"You were a Marine?" Taylor asked with a quirked brow.

"I am a Marine, girly. Like we say, once a Marine, always a Marine. Served for almost 20 years, mostly overseas for a while before the government decided foreign wars weren't worth it with all the Parahumans now running about. Made it all the way to Sergeant Major before I left. Started working the Docks here afterwards, course as soon as I did the shipping dried up and the docks went to shit." Merrick shrugged. "How it goes I suppose though."

"Indeed." Taylor said dryly. "What of the rest of you, anyone else former military?"

Merrick, the apparent leader of this group, answered for them. "Well Charlie over there was a Seaman in the Navy, while Daryl's also a Marine."

Taylor looked behind Merrick at the referenced works. Charlie, she saw, was the man who sat within the wheelchair, an aged man even older than her father, with wrinkled hands and whitening hair. Daryl was a dark skinned, muscular African-American man that walked with a limp and cane.

Taylor hummed. "Hmm. Tell me, what maimed you two?"

Charlie shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Work accident. Shipment fell off a truck and I was sent flying, landed on the concrete and broke my back."

Taylor nodded. "And you, Daryl?"

"E88 initiation." He grunted out, frowning.

"Indeed." Taylor didn't need any more explanation than that. "Well then gentleman, for those of you who do not know who I am, I am Taylor Hebert, Danny's daughter." Taylor then pulled up the sleeve of her robe and proudly displayed her prosthetic arm. "And I am Parahuman Tinker.

"I asked for all of you to be here for one reason. I need help. The gangs of this city. The villains. They would seek to take me, put me under their thumb and force me to work for them. To create weapons for Nazis, rapists, and druggies." Taylor made sure to look at Merrick and Daryl when she said that. "I would prefer this not happen, so I wish to make a deal with every man here. Not only do I have the power to repair all of you, I have the power to make you better, faster, stronger. In return I ask for your loyalty. I ask all of you to help protect myself and my Father from the evils of this city, while I work to save it."

The men were silent, casting glances towards one another, until Merrick spoke up. "That's all well and good girly, but even with robot bits, I don't know what we can do to protect you if someone like Hookwolf or Oni Lee comes knocking."

"An understandable concern." Taylor conceded. "But have faith, Mr. Merrick, for I will not ask you to put your lives on the line for me without a means for victory."

Taylor then drew her laspistol and aimed it at a nearby dumpster. She fired, and a flash of red light shot out of her gun, almost too fast for anyone to see. Trailing the bolt of energy, they saw that the laser beam had punctured the steel dumpster with ease, putting a fist sized hole into it, and setting the refuse within on fire.

"God I hope there weren't any animals in there." Danny whispered to himself as he directed the Dockworkers to put out the flames.

Taylor ignored them and said, "This, was only the first of weapons I've created, and far from the strongest. Work for me, and not only will you have a steady job, but I will provide you with Tinkertech arms, armor, and prosthetics that I will maintain, for free." Taylor holstered her laspistol as she let her words sink in.

This time, the men deliberate amongst themselves quietly for a few moments, before Merrick spoke up once more. "You'll give all of us this in exchange for killing and dying for you?"

"I'd rather you just stood there and looked menacing to scare away threats, but if necessary yes." Taylor saw no point in lying to them about the danger she was putting them in.

"Well you sure don't sugar coat it." Merrick then smirked. "Hell girly, I'm in. Not only are you giving us jobs, but you wanna give us laser guns and robot parts too? Is it December again, because it sounds like it's fucking Christmas."

Taylor smirked. Merrick and Daryl were almost giddy, like 10 year old boys excited to receive new toys. She supposed that's just the way Marines were. The others were less overtly enthusiastic, but the prospect of free TinkerTech cybernetics and a steady job was extremely tempting. While the specifics of the contract would have to be ironed out with her Father later, eventually all five of the men had all verbally agreed to Taylor's terms.

"Very good." Taylor said, satisfied with today's work. "Today is a new day for all of us. Today, you become the first of my… guardians? No... Guardsmen! That flows much better." Taylor then turned to face the abandoned factory they all stood around. "And this, shall be the sacred ground from which we shall do our duty. This shall be my… manufactorum. And here, we take the first steps towards saving Brockton Bay."

Chapter Text

A/N: Warning for body horror and some other weirdness

Monday, Feb. 14th

Taylor stood in her manufactorum, listening to sounds of industry and machinery bless her ears. It had taken weeks of hard work, her and a dozen dock workers clearing trash, disassembling old machinery, bringing in and installing new machines in their place, but her manufactorum was finally up and running.

Gone were the behemoths of rust and degradation, disassembled by the careful work of Taylor and her laborers, anything useful cleaned of rust and kept while the rest were set aside for scrap. Gone were the piles of trash and refuse, swept away and discarded, making room for Taylor's new purchases.

Along the left factory wall was a heavy metal lathe, used for a variety of machining processes from cutting and sanding to boring and shaping. It was a remarkably versatile tool that Taylor knew she would get much use out of. A few feet away stood a vertical band saw, useful for cutting both metal and wood, though for her she would focus far more on the former. And further down the wall was a drill press and a milling machine, both things Taylor would get much use out of when producing her Tinkertech. All in all this side of the factory had been converted into a rather robust metal shop.

On the opposite side, Taylor had spent money on a small metal reclamation pipeline. She had purchased a large metal shredder, as well as a pair of smaller, industrial furnaces the size of a kitchen oven. These allowed her to begin recycling the scrap metal she claimed from this factory, keeping her from having to continually purchase more and more metal. She had even begun sending small teams of workers escorted by a Guardsman to the Ship Graveyard, where they would strip raw materials off the abandoned sea vessels for her.

Meanwhile all of the tools Armsmaster gifted her were now sitting in her private laboratory underneath the manufactorum, in addition to a new arc welder she bought to replace the one cannibalized into her laspistol. After weeks of preparation, her manufactorum was now fully open, and she couldn't be happier.

"Girly." A gruff voice behind Taylor said, drawing her from her admiration of the machinery. Taylor turned and saw the scarred face of Sgt. Major Merrick, clutching his blocky lasgun with both his organic arm, and his new combat-ready cybernetic left arm. Unlike Taylor's more skeletal limb, this limb was made with heavy armor plating over its joints and wires, and could take a knife or bullet with ease.

Unlike before, where Merrick was dressed in his casual, everyday work clothing, Merrick was now dressed in a pseudo-military set of grey fatigues, on top of which he wore a set of gunmetal gray flak armor.

"Sergeant Major Merrick." Taylor greeted giving a slight nod of her head. "How goes things?"

Merrick shrugged. "Not bad, all things considered. Though Charlie saw some Merchant scouts sniffing around and chased them off, and my arm's starting to get a little twitchy." he said, lifting the prosthetic up.

Taylor stepped forward to examine the arm. "Ah yes, seems some of the servos require recalibrating. Come see me at the end of your shift when you drop off your weapons. I can perform the necessary maintenance then."

That was one thing Taylor found annoying. Arming half a dozen Guardsmen with cybernetics and Tinkertech weapons seemed like a good idea on paper, but she didn't take into account how much time she would have to spend maintaining them. At the start of every workday she would have to take some time to make sure the Guardsmen's weapons and augmetics wouldn't fail, taking up a full hour or two of work before she could move onto anything else. This was something she would need to come up with a solution for and fast if she wanted to expand her numbers beyond their current size.

"As for the Merchants… increase patrols in response. They may not be much of a threat, but I don't want anyone getting near this place who doesn't belong."

"Got it." Merrick nodded. "Also I got an email from your Dad. Printed it out for you." Merrick then pulled out a sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to her.

Taylor's Father was still working his dayjob at the DWA, but in his spare time was also running the finances and HR tasks for the Manufactorum. Taylor unfolded the paper, and as her eye ran over it, she sighed. There went her happy mood.

"Everything alright?" Merrick asked.

Taylor began walking and she gestured for him to follow. As he fell behind her she said. "Not particularly. My Father has been going through our finances. Finding the property for the Manufactorum was a boon, cheap due to its location and derelict status, but it still cost me several hundred thousand dollars. Combine that with the money I've been spending on new tools, raw materials, paying the dock workers and the Guardsmen…" Taylor trailed off.

"Ah yeah, money problems." Merrick grunted. "I'm guessing we're in the red?"

"Not yet, but if I don't find a source of revenue soon, we'll be as red as my fucking robes." Taylor sighed in annoyance.

Merrick nodded his head. "Sounds like a pain. And I do like getting paid, so you have any ideas for how to make money?"

"Some. I've sent a few CAD designs to Armsmaster of combat-ready cybernetic limbs and enhancements, based on the same ones I gave to the Guardsmen. I was hoping that the PRT would be willing to outfit their troopers with it, though I have yet to hear back of any approvals. Armsmaster did reply though, complimenting the design, and even sending back his own modification which would incorporate a utility slot for weapons and tools within the arm." Taylor actually beamed a little with pride that Armsmaster was impressed by her work. He was one of her favorite heroes growing up, and with both their statuses as Tinkers, she felt closer to him than any other hero.

"Neat." Was all Merrick said. "Well you have any other ideas on how to get some dough? If there's anything I learned from both the Marines and the Union, is that government approvals take a long time."

Taylor shrugged. "I've put out some advertisements for cybernetic augmentations. Replacements or enhancements, but I've yet to receive any interested patients."

Merrick raised an eyebrow. "How much are you charging?"

"$50,000 per limb replacement. $100,000 for an organ replacement." She simply stated. "Then they would have to pay for any maintenance afterwards."

Merrick snorted. "Fitting right in with the American healthcare system there girly. You take insurance?"

Taylor looked at him like he was an idiot. "Insurance? Do I look like I have the infrastructure to take insurance?"

"S'pose not." Merrick shrugged. Business planning wasn't his job. "Well I'm sure you'll figure it out. You need me for anything else?"

"Yes actually. Do you have a cellphone, Sergeant Major?"

"Yep." Merrick dug into his pocket and fished out a flip phone. He tossed it to Taylor.

Taylor's mechanical hand deftly caught it, flipping it open. With her free hand, Taylor dug into her pocket and pulled out the handwritten phone number she received a few weeks ago. She began punching in numbers.

Amy was lounging at home, sitting on Vicky's bed as Vicky floated about, trying on different jackets.

"What do you think about this one?" Vicky asked as she put on a beige cardigan over her white tank top and tight jeans.

Amy ogled her sister for a moment under the guise of critical judgement, before she rolled her eyes. "Vicky, this is the 3rd jacket you've put on. Yes, they all look great. And yes, Dean is going to love them. You know exactly what he's going to say." Amy then dropped her voice down an octave to mirror a male. "Oh Vicky my love, you're so pretty. Kiss me."

Vicky threw a discarded sweater at Amy's face.

"Your impression of Dean is terrible." Vicky said through a laugh.

Well Dean is terrible for you. Amy thought to herself as she pulled the sweater off her face. Before she could say anything to retort, her phone started ringing.

Reaching for Vicky's desk where she it, Amy scowled as she didn't recognize the number. She answered it.

"Who is this?" Amy said, hoping to cut off either a salesman or a fan who had gotten her number. Amy also noticed a look of concern on Vicky's face when she answered.

"Amy Dallon?" the voice on the other side asked, the mechanical timbre and overlay immediately identifying the speaker as Taylor Hebert, who Amy gave her number to two weeks ago.

"Oh Taylor!" Amy said apologetically, relaxing a bit. "Sorry about that, I didn't recognize the number and thought it could've been a fan or patient or something. Is this your number?"

At the mention of Taylor's name, Amy saw that Vicky did not relax like she did. If anything, Vicky became more tense as she scowled at Amy's phone.

"No, this phone belongs to one of my employees. But that is irrelevant. Amy Dallon, I wish to invite you over to my Manufactorum today. I have a project I am working on that I both require your assistance on, and think you will find interesting." Taylor flatly said.

Despite the monotonous delivery of Taylor's words, Amy's eyes lit up. Taylor hadn't contacted her since she gave her that check up last time they met, and Amy was starting to lose hope she was interested in talking. Now, Amy had an excuse to go see whatever enhancement Taylor was creating first hand.

"Yes!" Amy squeaked a little too loudly, causing Vicky to wince at the sudden sounds. "I mean yes, sure I'd love to come over."

Vicky's eyes went wide at Amy's words.

Taylor then responded. "Very well. I will send you the address of my Manufactorum. Make your way here as soon as possible. Goodbye." Taylor then abruptly hung up.

Amy looked at her phone, a bit perplexed by the sudden disconnection, when Vicky said, "Okay, what the Hell was that?"

Vicky had her arms crossed over her chest and looked at Amy with a combination of worry and annoyance.

"That was Taylor. She said she needs my help with something and wants me to come over." Amy explained as her phone pinged with the address. Amy recognized it was probably somewhere in the docks, but she'd have to look it up.

"And you said yes." Vicky flatly said, affixing Amy with an equally flat stare.

Amy turned her head away from her step-sister. "I mean, yeah. Taylor's a friend, kinda, and she needs my help. What else am I going to do today?" She'd really rather not go to the hospital.

Vicky groaned. "I don't know. You could've gone out? I'm sure Dean wouldn't mind finding a nice guy for you to double date with for today."

It was Amy's turn to groan. "You know I hate those double dates. What does it matter? Aren't you the one who says I need to go out more besides going to the hospital?"

Amy's words seemed to anger Vicky as she scowled deeper. "Yeah I do. But did you think about the fact that I'm the one who will either fly or drive you there when I have my Valentine's date with Dean tonight?"

Amy was about to snap back at Vicky when she processed what she said. Oh, today was Valentine's Day? And Taylor invited her to her place? Amy decided to not think too hard on that.

"Fine then. I can go to Taylor's workshop on my own. It should only be a few bus rides." Amy shrugged.

"Hell no." Vicky said indignantly. "I'm not letting you travel there by yourself or visit by yourself. Now hurry up and get dressed, we're leaving in 15."

Amy smiled and hugged Vicky before running to her room. Today was looking like a good day. She was going to go see Taylor, and she inadvertently stopped Vicky's and Dean's date. For the first time ever, Amy was excited for Valentine's Day.

Amy and Vicky touched down in front of the address that Taylor sent them. Vicky was not happy that they were flying right into the middle of the docks, and remained unhappy when she saw the factory Taylor was staying in.

"What a dump." Vicky said as she looked up and down the red brick building.

"It is. But it's our dump." A gruff voice said coming out of a steel side door on the side of the building.

The man was a bald, muscular middle-aged man wearing a gray jumpsuit and some body armor. He had what looked like a definite Tinkertech rifle in his hands, and a prosthetic left arm that identified him as one of Taylor's so-called employees.

For her part, Vicky had the decency to look embarrassed over the fact she was overheard. "Sorry about that." she muttered.

The man waved her off. "Why you apologizing when you're right? The Boss picked this place partly because it's a dump. Hiding in plain sight. Anyway, I'm assuming you're Victoria and Amy?"

Vicky nodded her head. "Vicky's fine, and yes we are."

"Hmm. Well the name's Sergeant Merrick. Pleasure. Boss wanted me to bring you two into her personal workshop." Sergeant Merrick then stepped to the side and gestured for the two Dallons to enter.

"Personal workshop?" Amy parroted as she walked into the door. "This isn't it?"

Sergeant Merrick chuckled. "This? Nah this is the Manufactorum. Taylor's got some of us dock workers doing odd jobs for her so she can make her Tinkertech faster."

Upon entering, Amy and Vicky saw several laborers currently working in the reclaimed factory. A few men were moving rusted metal into a scraper and putting them into a smelter. On the opposite side, machinists were shaping and cutting the metal in specified shapes. Some looked like they could be bodies for rifles, others shaped like body armor that the Sergeant wore. Others Amy had no idea what they could be.

The Sergeant took them to a side door which led to an underground passage. Vicky scowled and was distinctly not happy about that, so she went first as the Sergeant led them to the basement. There, he brought them to a heavy steel door that was slightly ajar. Pulling it open Sergeant Merrick gestured for them to enter.

Looking inside, Amy saw a rather disconcertingly familiar setting. This room, Taylor's personal workshop, looked like an amalgamation of a hospital operating room and a machine shop. Amy recognized several machines from a hospital, a vital signs monitor, hanging operating lights, an operating table, as well as an anesthesia machine and ventilator. Next to all of these were power tools like a circular saw, hand drill, and some kind of blow torch.

In the center of it was Taylor, or Tech-Priest, since she was in her red robes. She was standing next to the operating table, seemingly tinkering on a three-segment robotic arm with a claw and some other unidentifiable tools. The arm was connected to a heavy, cylindrical base and a power supply. On the far end of the cylindrical room, hanging from some kind of specialized rack was something that Amy recognized from her long career working with heroes like Armsmaster and Gallant. It was a set of power armor.

The Armor was rather bulky, appearing more like a set of pseudo-cyber knight armor similar to Gallant. The arms and legs had overlapping series of interlocked plates, while the breast plate looked like it was based on some kind of scale mail. Half the armor didn't have plating on it yet, and the inside was a mess of circuitry and plugs that made no sense to Amy.

"Ahem." Sergeant Merrick coughed into his hand, drawing Tech-Priests attention. "They're here Boss."

Pulling herself out of her work, Tech-Priest turned and finally saw Amy and Vicky. "Ah, apologies, didn't hear you. Thank you Sergeant Major, that will be all." Sergeant Merrick nodded and walked away, while Tech-Priest said to Amy, "Well come in, don't be shy. Glory Girl, Panacea, welcome to my humble workshop."

"Thanks for inviting us." Amy said as entered, Vicky trailing behind her. "And it's Amy and Vicky out of costume."

Tech-Priest nodded. "Ah apologies. Then you can call me Taylor. I care little for these costumed games, but unfortunately speaking without my mask is very difficult for me."

Amy opened her mouth to offer to fix her throat, but immediately shut it. She remembered Taylor's first reaction to Amy's healing, and didn't want to start anything in her lab. "Sure. So Taylor, what did you want me here for? Are you experiencing any issues with your prosthetics?"

Taylor shook her head. "My body is functioning within normal parameters, no issues so far. The reason I wanted you here was that I planned on installing a set of new bionics, and I wish for you to be here to ensure I do not kill myself in the process of augmenation."

That was more or less what Amy was expecting. And the idea did interest her. Watching basic surgery was both boring and unnecessary for her thanks to her powers, but watching Taylor enhance bodily systems through her Tinkertech? And then see how the biological components interact with them? That was something interesting that Amy felt like she could learn a lot from.

"I can definitely help with that." Amy said happily. "What kind of enhancements do you plan on installing? The auto-sanguination fluid you mentioned before? Or what about the cybernetic organs we talked about?" Amy had to stop as she realized she was getting too excited.

Taylor didn't seem to mind however. "There are three procedures I wish to go through today. You were right on the first, it was the Autosanguation fluid transfusion. The second will be the updating of my prosthetics." Taylor held up her robotic left hand. "These, while better than having a stump, are neither combat ready nor capable of any task a normal hand can not do. I have designed a few combat prosthetics which you may have seen on my Guardsmen, which are far more durable and functional."

Amy nodded her head. Those sounded like reasonable operations that would be easier for her to help with. She could ensure Taylor didn't go into shock during the Auto-sanguination procedure, and reattaching limbs was easy for her, so making sure there were no issues with a replacement should also be easy.

"The last procedure." Taylor continued. "Is the installing of serval cortex implants into my brain, cranial circuitry to enhance my mental facilities."

Amy froze. Taylor… Taylor wanted her help with brain surgery. The one line she promised she would never cross.

"I… can't do brains." Amy stuttered out.

Taylor looked at her strangely, tilting her head. "Pardon?"

"It's a limit of Amy's power set." Vicky immediately cut in. "Her powers don't let her affect the brain."

Amy looked at Vicky graciously. This was why she loved her sister so much. Vicky knew that Amy could affect brains, but wouldn't. It was even a point of contention between them, where Vicky thought that Amy should try and practice working on brains in case they ever ran into an emergency where brain surgery was needed, but Amy always adamantly refused. Even with all that, Vicky was still covering for her.

Taylor stared at the two sisters. Her countenance was unreadable, but Amy could tell her mind was running with ideas. What those ideas were, Amy had no idea.

"A strange limitation." Taylor finally said.

"But it's her limitation." Vicky responded. "Like how I have a hard limit on how much I can lift. Or Legend has a limit on how strong he can make his laser beams."

Taylor stared at Vicky for a moment more, before shrugging. "I suppose. Powers are, as they say, bullshit. Regardless, you do not have to directly affect my brain. I can handle the surgery myself, I just want you there to place my skull cap and sew me back up afterwards. Will your powers allow you to work on parts of the head that are not the brain?" Taylor asked as she looked back at Amy.

Amy swallowed. "Uh yeah. That's all just, bones and skin and such. My powers will work on them."

"Good." Taylor said, and Amy could tell she was smiling behind her mask.

"Whoa I don't know about this." Vicky said before turning to Taylor. "I mean, Amy can handle the first two, but the brain surgery sounds too risky. What happens if you accidentally kill yourself? Or give yourself brain damage? That blame would fall on Amy."

"I know what I am doing." Taylor said, now getting annoyed with Vicky.

"That's what a lot of people say right before they fuck up." Vicky countered.

"Vicky." Amy hissed out. Her sister looked at her with a bit of confusion. "It's fine. I can do this. I… I want to do this."

Vicky opened her mouth, going to say something, but no words came out. Her jaw shut with an audible click, and Amy could see thoughts running around her mind as Vicky's face scrunched up.

Eventually she said, "Okay fine. You can do what you think is best."

Amy nodded and smiled. She wanted to go up and hug Vicky, but that was a little bit too much of a public display of affection for her in front of Taylor.

"Okay then." Amy said, refocusing back on the Tinker. "How do we want to do this?"

"I'll need a moment for some pre-surgery prep, but once that is done we can begin working here." Taylor patted her operating table and the robotic arm. "I have a prototype servo-arm here I will control for most of the surgery." Taylor then pulled out a laptop which had a window open that connected to a camera on the servo-arm. "The rest can be performed by hand between the two of us."

Amy nodded her head, eager to begin. "Okay, let's get started then."

Vicky did not want to be where she was right now, in the underground lair of some strange Tinker in the middle of one of the more dangerous parts of town. She'd much rather be out with Dean on their planned date that she was more than likely going to miss now.

But there was no way in Hell Vicky was going to leave Amy here alone. Even if Taylor wasn't hostile, she was still a relatively unknown Parahuman to the two of them, and she had yet to prove to Vicky she could be trusted.

Vicky watched as Amy moved forward to help Taylor with the surgery prep. The first thing Taylor did was get out a hair clipper and hand it to Amy. Strangely enough, Taylor seemed hesitant to do this.

"I will need you to shave my head as well. Can't have my hair getting in the way of the brain surgery." Taylor said as she sat down.

Vicky frowned. That was actually rather sad. Taylor had a beautiful set of black hair and it was a shame to see it all thrown away. Amy seemed to share Vicky's opinion as she solemnly nodded and took the clipper out Taylor's hand. Turning it on, Amy slowly began shaving Taylor's head until she was completely bald.

Once that was done, Taylor sighed sadly before sweeping up the hair and disposing of it. She then moved to the back of the room, where more of her Tinkertech was stored, and brought over a small cart. On the cart were a series of blood bags, half empty, and half filled with a strange white fluid Vicky had never seen before, as well as a sealed plastic container.

"These." Taylor said, patting the bags of white fluid, "Are the Autosanguination fluids I mentioned. And this." Taylor then opened the container and grabbed a small piece of Tinkertech, a half-cylinder perhaps only 1 or 2 inches tall and ½ inch in radius. On the flat side of the cylinder was a series of needles and spikes. "This is the bionic organ which will produce more Autosanguination fluid as needed."

Vicky had no idea how such a small thing was going to make all that fake blood, but trying to understand Tinkertech was an exercise in futility.

"Where are we going to install it?" Amy asked.

Taylor pointed directly to her chest. "Directly on to the aorta." When Amy nodded her head, Taylor continued. "After which we will then exsanguinate my body, drawing blood from my left arm while the autosanguination fluid will be injected through my right."

"Alright sounds good to me." Amy nodded, seemingly eager to begin.

With that Taylor nodded her head, and to both Vicky's and Amy's surprise, dropped her robe to the floor then and there. Taylor, Vicky had learned, was in fact wearing nothing but a pair of underwear beneath her robe, and was now standing in front of the two Dallons almost completely naked. Taylor was thin under her robes, and not in a way that made Vicky jealous. Calling her scrawny was generous. Vicky could see her ribs beneath her barely developed chest. Vicky wouldn't say it to her face, but Taylor almost had a boyish figure with how tall and non-curvy she was.

Vicky averted her eyes. While she didn't consider herself a prude, and had seen more than her fair share of nudity both in the mirror and from her time on Arcadia's girls basketball team, she at least thought it would be polite to not look. Even if Taylor didn't seem to care at all about the nudity. She instead decided to focus on Amy, who… what the fuck?

While Vicky had chosen to look away from Taylor, Amy's eyes practically bored into the younger teen, running her up and down. Amy's eyes were scalpels, fucking Tinkertech laser scalpels as she took in Taylor with this… intensity that Vicky couldn't describe. It was more than just focused, or clinical, it was… lustful.

…

Yeah, no, Vicky wasn't going to touch that with a 10-foot pole and her forcefield. Although it did explain a few things in retrospect, like why Amy hated all of the double-dates she went on with Vicky. Filing that information away in the vaults of her memory, Vicky watched as Taylor laid down on the operating table.

"Amy, I have some iodine on the counter next to you. Will you please get it to disinfect me before the procedure?"

Amy looked at it, then back at Taylor. "Actually, I can wipe out all the bacteria on the surface of your skin with just a touch. All of the bacteria in the air as well. Part of my power."

Taylor looked at Amy strangely, then nodded. "An effective usage of your powers. Do so. You have my permission for that and all other required healing for today's enhancements."

Amy then laid her hands on Taylor's torso and presumably wiped out all bacteria on her skin from existence. Vicky actually let out a sigh of relief that Amy was being professional about it and not using the chance to feel up Taylor.

"Done." Amy said with a grin. "I'll also make sure to sterilize any bacteria that comes anywhere near us."

"Good, now move, I can control the servo-arm to cut open my chest cavity and begin the implantation procedure." Taylor said as her robot prosthetic began controlling the servo-arm through the laptop set on her side.

A scalpel extended out of the servo-arm and the machine oriented itself above Taylor's chest. Okay, now this was officially getting too insane for Vicky. Hearing Taylor say she was going to perform surgery on herself with a robot factory arm was one thing, but to watch her do it? What the Hell was going on today?

"Taylor, wait!" Amy called out, and the Tinker stopped dead in her tracks.

Vicky internally cheered. Amy must've come to her senses and was stopping this insanity before it got started.

"Yes?" Taylor questioned.

"Are you about to cut yourself open without anesthesia?" Taylor nodded, causing Amy to sigh. "Here, let me turn off the pain receptors in your body. That should keep you from accidentally nicking anything important because you twitched from pain."

Vicky put her head in her hands as Taylor nodded again. With that done, Taylor clicked a button on the laptop and stabbed herself in the chest with her servo arm. The surgery was on the way.

Amy was having fun. Unlike the days at the hospital, or when she's called in to patch up some of the local heroes, where she was resentful, exhausted, and all around bored, she was having fun! A person could only cure cancer, mend broken bones, and clear out high blood pressure so many times before it became boring and redundant.

Sure wasn't actually doing anything interesting right now, just closing up the entry cut Taylor put into her own chest cavity to install the autosanguination organ, but her ability to read biology was going wild. Taylor already had an IV drip filled with the autosanguination fluid going to her right arm while blood was being drained out of her left. And Amy could watch Taylor's bodily systems light up as soon as the fluid touched them.

While Amy couldn't read the fluid itself as it was synthetic, she could watch how it interacted with Taylor's organic body parts. Oxygen was flowing into them at a far faster rate than normally possible, and cellular waste was being removed at almost triple the speed. She watched as microtears in Taylor's muscles rapidly knit themselves, only taking minutes where it would normally take a day or two. With this, muscle injuries that would take years to heal, or perhaps even never heal could rebuild themselves in a period of weeks to months.

Amy couldn't help but once more try and think about how to do this biologically rather than cybernetically. She liked Taylor's idea of installing the enhancement onto a major blood vessel, so she would definitely steal that. Maybe she could create her own organ that produces blood cells with altered hemoglobin to carry oxygen and waste more efficiently. Or maybe that organ could be more of a filter, modifying blood cells as they moved through, so she could take advantage of the body's natural blood producing mechanisms unlike Taylor. Although at that point why wouldn't she just adjust the bone marrow to produce these enhanced blood cells from the get go? She thought back to the crocodile marrow idea she had when she first met Taylor. Combine that with enhanced white blood cells and boom, you have someone who heals fast and is immune to infectious diseases.

This is what Amy came here for. To see. To be inspired. It was like she had been walking through a fucking desert, dying of thirst, and Taylor just shoved a hose down her throat. Amy swallowed as she realized she was salivating. Was this what it was like when Taylor worked on everyone? God she wanted to be here for every operation. To watch and learn and do.

Amy's powers itched for it. Like a subconscious prodding to put these ideas she's been having to the test. It was the first time she ever experienced something like this. It was a craving, a hunger, a… lust. Not a sexual lust, though Amy would admit that having a half naked girl her own age beneath her was nice, but a drive more powerful than a need for sex. It was a base need and desire to experiment that Amy never knew was there, that she had been repressing, and working with Taylor was the perfect release.

It was a desire superseded any other psychological need of her's, like her need to prove to Carol that she was a good person and a hero, or her need to try and save as many people as she could in the hospital. God, was this what addicts felt like?

These thoughts swirled through the mind of Amy while the procedure went on. The second part of the operation was less interesting to Amy, as it was more physical than anything. Taylor's current bionics were very crudely sutured into her limbs, and were both obsolete and in the way. Taylor never created anchor points or sockets on her limbs for easy upgrades, so these were attached directly into her limbs. Together, Amy and Taylor had to detach her limbs from the prosthetics, with Amy actually having to regress some of the flesh that had grown around the cybernetics. Once they were done, the ends of Taylor's limbs were crudely mashed stumps of meat and bone. Amy was pretty sure she heard gagging noises from Vicky, but ignored them.

Taylor then had Amy use her powers to heal the limbs to a surgically perfect cross-sectional cut at a specific point. A base plate attachment point cybernetic was capped over her limbs, which then connected to her nervous system. New, combat-ready prosthetics were then installed onto these attachment points. If what Taylor said about their power was true, she now had a light Brute rating in addition to her Tinker one. If Taylor wanted to upgrade later, she only needed to remove the current arm and attach a new one to the baseplate rather than going through a full surgery again.

Amy found the way the cybernetics almost automatically connected to Taylor's nerve-endings interesting, but outside of that found this part similar to what Amy normally did.

Next was the most dangerous part of the operation though, the one Amy wouldn't be helping on, the brain surgery. Taylor had Vicky bring out another cart that had a tray of 3 different cybernetics, two small one that looked like oblong CPUs, and the third which was obviously some kind of external spinal attachment.

"What will these do?" Amy asked as she looked at the cortex implants over.

Taylor pointed to one of the small chips. "This will be implanted in my frontal lobe and will act as an intelligence modifier. It will boost my mind's processing power, multi-tasking, even my reaction time by magnitudes." She then pointed to the second chip. "This will be placed in my temporal lobe, and contains about a hundred petabytes worth of data storage. It will enhance my memory banks so I can store and access even more knowledge, as well as granting me an eidetic memory."

She then lightly touched the mechanical spine. "This is called a cyber-mantle. Besides reinforcing my spine, it will allow me to anchor more external prosthetics to my body, as well as interface my technology directly with my central nervous system. This will allow me to control my Tinkertech mentally through a neural network, rather than have to do it by hand."

Amy didn't talk for 10 seconds after Taylor explained what her Tinkertech did. She wouldn't touch the brain enhancements. At least not yet. But… could she create something similar to the cybermantle? Some kind of like, organic techno-weave that would connect a central nervous system to technology? Maybe she could use connection ports spread out across the body, rather than just at the spine. But the nerve bundles would have to be hardened so as not to cause pain when interacting with… well anything. Like some kind of chitinous carapace material or something.

"Amy?" Taylor's voice broke Amy out of her fugue.

"Huh?" Amy shook her head, drawn back to the real world.

"Are you ready to proceed?" Taylor asked, a bit of annoyance coloring her voice.

Amy blinked. "Oh yeah. Sorry. Just… mentally preparing myself. I'm ready."

Ignoring the concerned looks Vicky was sending her, Amy helped adjust the operating table so it turned into a chair with Taylor sitting up. With a new blade replaced on the servo-arm, the machine made a quick incision across Taylor's head, separating the top of her skull from the rest of her head.

Amy kept her hand on Taylor's shoulder to monitor her brain functions as the servo arm began attaching the cybernetics. She wouldn't be able to help if Taylor accidentally lobotomized herself, but at least she could stop Taylor from doing more damage and walk her through fixing it. But if she couldn't… could Amy break her rule if Taylor hurt herself? Taylor's mind was too valuable to waste on a surgical accident. Amy needed Taylor to stay healthy and keep creating things. Luckily, this internal debate stayed theoretical as the implants were successful. Like with the autosanguination fluid, Taylor's grey matter lit up like a Christmas tree when the cortex implants were installed. The implants flared to life and Amy watched as Neurons fired information to and from it like it was natural. Amy didn't miss the fact that Taylor gave herself a Thinker rating in addition to her Tinker and Brute ratings.

With that done, Amy picked up the top of Taylor's skull and replaced it on her head. A quick flick of her powers, and the bone, flesh, and skin all reknit itself as if Taylor had no operation. Amy then lowered the operating table back down and grabbed Taylor's hand and helped the girl rotate so she was lying face down. Amy helped the servo-arm position the cyber-mantle over Taylor spine, thin needles protruding that would go directly into the nerves between vertebrae. The largest needle was just beneath the base of the skull, and would connect directly into Taylor's brain stem.

Amy watched as the needles dug themselves through Taylor's skin and flesh, connecting directly to the nerves. The cyber-mantle began to glow a dull red, indicating it was working. There were no immediate biological signs that stuck out to Amy, no damage or interesting reactions, indicating it worked as intended.

"And there we go." Amy said, helping Taylor off her chest and sit on the operating table. As she did, she turned back on the nerve endings she disconnected, allowing Taylor her full sense of touch once more.

Vicky went ahead and picked up Taylor's robe and handed it to the Tinker. Taylor wrapped it around herself.

"How are you feeling?" Amy made sure to vocally ask. She saw no issues of rejection from the procedure, but she could only see half of what made up Taylor.

Taylor was silent as she flexed her prosthetics, her one organic eye narrowing as she experienced all of her new enhancements at once.

"Amazing." Taylor breathed out. It was all she could say.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Amy then said, "If you want, I could regrow your hair for you?"

For the first time tonight, Taylor was nonplussed. She blinked at Amy, as if what the healer had said was some kind of strange, foreign language.

After a few more seconds of silence, Taylor said, "You can do that?"

This time Amy scowled at Taylor like she was an idiot. "Taylor I just reattached your skull like a lego piece. I can cure cancer with a touch and bacteria is my bitch. Growing hair is easy for me."

Taylor continued to stare at Amy in wonder until Amy started getting uncomfortable. Eventually Taylor said, "Yes if you would please. My hair is… something similar to my late Mother's. I had resigned myself to a life of short hair for a while, but if you could regrow it, I would be grateful."

Amy's glare softened at Taylor's words. Now she just felt like a bitch. Stepping forward, Amy placed a hand on Taylor's shoulder again, and immediately her long, curly black hair regrew to its original length.

"Thanks." Taylor mumbled as Amy let go.

"No problem." Amy quietly said back.

A few more moments of awkward silence passed until a loud CLAP caused both her and Taylor to flinch. They both looked and saw Vicky had clapped her hands to get their attention.

"That's all well and good, but now that the body horror show is over, are we done here?" Vicky asked.

Taylor blinked at Vicky, before nodding her head. She stood off the operating table, adjusted her robes, and walked to one of the counters where she kept her tools. Opening up a drawer, she pulled out a white envelope and handed it to Amy.

"For services rendered." Taylor said, her voice monotone.

Amy raised a brow and looked inside, shocked to see a stack of cash. She counted it quickly, ten $100 dollar bills. Taylor just gave her a thousand bucks.

"I can't accept this." Amy sputtered out.

Taylor shrugged. "You did a service to me and I gave payment in return. That is all. But with this, I have all I need from you today. Come, I will walk you two out."

As Taylor began to walk towards the exit of her workshop, Amy put a hand on her shoulder. "Taylor, wait!"

Stopping in place, Taylor spun around and raised an eyebrow at Amy. "Yes?"

Amy let go of her and stepped back. "Well, it's just that since we're here, I was hoping we could use this chance to, you know, talk?"

"What about?"

Amy shrugged. "About things." Amy cursed her ineptitude at social interactions. "Just to get to know each other."

Amy then turned her head to Vicky eyes wide, pleading for help.

Vicky saw this expression and scowled a bit, her head moving back and lips curling slightly, while she moved her hand slightly in a small "What?" gesture. Amy recognized the action as non-verbal sister talk for, What do you want me to do?

Amy's eyes focused intensely on her sister as she subtly gestured her head towards Vicky, sister talk for, You're the social one, help me!

"What are you two doing?" Taylor finally asked as she looked at them strangely.

"Oh nothing!" Vicky said, floating towards them with a fake smile on her face. The same one she used at events she didn't want to be at, or with the paparazzi. "Soooo... Taylor, what are your plans for school? Are you going to be transferring to Arcadia? Me and Amy go there."

"Amy and I." Taylor corrected. She then shook her head. "And no. I have already withdrawn from school. I feel I will not be safe there and I can learn far more on my own, especially with these implants." Taylor tapped the side of her head. She didn't seem to care to elaborate anymore, and the silence returned.

"Okay, well that's a dead topic." Vicky muttered as her smile almost cracked. "Alright then! Well if you're not going to school are you working then?"

"Yes. I registered as a rogue, and used a substantial amount of capital from the court case I was able to invest here to get me started. Though I will admit, I have burned through more of the money faster than I thought, and business prospects aren't looking good."

"What are you trying to sell?" Amy asked, forcing herself back into the conversation.

"I have sent several designs for prosthetics to the PRT to see if they were interested in purchasing them. I also put out some advertisements to see if people want bionics on an individual basis. But PRT approval is slow and I have yet to hear from any customers."

"Well that makes sense." Vicky said as she crossed her arms. "All your inventions are horrifying."

Both Amy and Taylor looked at Vicky like she was crazy.

"What do you mean?" Taylor asked, genuinely confused.

"Yeah, Taylor prosthetics are amazing!" Amy defended. How could Vicky not understand how beautiful Taylor's Tinkertech was?

Vicky blinked at them. "Oh my God you both actually don't see it." She muttered, shaking her head. "Okay Taylor, it's clear that you understand absolutely nothing about PR. Right now, the PRT, or anyone really, barely has a reason to trust you in general, let alone trusting you with cutting people open. You have no reputation, and your inventions are scary as Hell. Don't you have anything you could try and sell that would get people used to you first? Something big and public that could help a lot of people?"

Amy saw where Vicky was going with this. "She has a point. Parian, another Brockton rogue, does puppet shows on the boardwalk to advertise and show her off as a family friendly, nonthreatening cape. If you could do something like that, that would help drive business your way."

"Particularly something without cybernetics!" Vicky hastily added on.

Taylor seemed deep in thought as she mulled over the Dallons' words. Eventually, her organic eye widened as she said, "Thank you, Amy, Vicky. This has been enlightening. I think I may have an idea. Tell me, have either of you two ever ridden the ferry?"

Chapter Text

Friday, February 18th.

Colin Wallis strode through the PRT HQ with purpose, going specifically towards the engineering workshop. The workshop itself was not unlike an engineering lab one would see in a well funded university or government research facility. It was a large open, concrete room filled with power tools, machinery, and half finished projects. While there were no actual walls separating work stations in this level, there were implied work areas as certain projects and workers took over corners of the lab and didn't let go. Colin himself had a lab here in addition to the one he had on the Rig, where he worked primarily on his motorcycle and some larger scale inventions.

Colin made his way to Kid Win's corner. Hopefully today's collaborative Tinkering session would go better than the last one they had together. Both Colin and Chris were getting frustrated at the latter's lack of progress, but there could only be so much done until Chris discovered his own speciality. The best Colin could do was try and walk Chris through his own process to see if it struck any chords with the Ward. So far, it hadn't.

Entering Kid-Win's workshop, he saw Chris out of costume, wearing his street clothes and a domino mask, looking at several disassembled laser guns on his workbench. Chris seemed frustrated as he stared at all of the pieces, and Colin could understand why. Colin counted no less than four different barrels, three receivers, and two power sources, but not one complete gun.

When Colin walked in, Chris looked at him with slight horror before he was able to compose himself. "Hey Armsmaster." He said softly.

"Kid." Colin nodded. "I see you have laid out some of your tech. Having issues?"

Chris sighed. "Yeah. Just… frustrated. I have all these projects and it's killing me. I make one thing then just jump to the next without finishing. I don't get it."

Colin nodded. He didn't understand why Chris couldn't just finish a project. Was it just a lack of discipline or was his ADD was that bad? While it wasn't Colin's place to give Chris medical advice, he thought it wouldn't be a bad idea if the boy were to get on medication. Perhaps then he'd actually finish a project besides his hoverboard and Spark Pistols.

"Well, why don't you walk me through some of these designs, and we can see if we can make some progress." Colin said. While he was internally frustrated with Chris, he couldn't let it show. He knew he was being hard enough on Chris already, and he didn't want to break the boy.

Chris picked up one of the longer barrels. "Well this one here, I know my Spark Pistols are good against most people, but against anyone with a Brute rating or even regular armor? I might as well be hitting them with a squirt gun. So I decided to try and make a kind of laser rifle so I could hit them with a more powerful blast, but only got as far as the barrel and focusing lens before I lost the idea."

He then picked up a second barrel, which was shorter and had 3 lenses instead of one. "This one was pretty much the opposite idea. It would take the laser and split it into 3 weaker beams, acting kinda like a laser-shotgun." He put it back down as well. "Again, lost the idea after building the barrel."

"Hm, well what would it take to finish either of these projects?" Colin asked.

"A lot. Every barrel needs a body and power source. And even if I did finish all of them, I'd have 9 different guns on me." Chris complained. "PR would not look kindly on me going on patrol looking like Rambo."

Colin snorted. "No they wouldn't. Perhaps you could make use of the teleportation technology I developed from scanning Miss Militia? Teleporting weapons to and from the base as needed."

"Huh. That's a pretty good idea." Chris nodded. "I could get in larger weapons that I can't normally carry as well."

Colin smiled. They were making progress. Good. "Well that's off in the future anyway. Let's focus on-" A call in Armsmaster's helmet cut him off. Tech-Priest was calling him. "A moment please."

Colin stepped off to the side. He had given Taylor his contact information after she left the HQ during her registration, and the two had been in sporadic email communication since. She even sent him some CAD files of some prosthetics she wished to get his opinion on and to see if the PRT was interested in buying them. The designs were simple and elegant, but rugged and durable. They had impressed Colin enough that he sent it to the PRT's science teams and the Director, as well as sending Taylor his own feedback and modifications to it.

"This is Armsmaster." Colin answered.

"Armsmaster." Tech-Priest's synthesized voice came in over his communicator. "This is Tech-Priest. Are you currently available?"

"I am currently in the process of Tinkering with Kid Win, so I would prefer if we keep this brief." Armsmaster answered honestly. Colin was interested in working with Taylor, but she needed to give him heads up and respect his schedule and previous obligations. Kid looked up at Armsmaster, now interested in his conversation.

"Hmm. Is he with you? Good, then I can extend my invitation to the two of you. I would like to invite you both over to my workshop. I have a new project which I wish to run by you, and I think this may be a good chance for some collaborative Tinkering."

Colin paused for a moment. "I will admit I am interested. Let me run it by Kid and get back to you."

"Understood. I'll send you the address of my Manufactorum. Good day, Armsmaster." Tech-Priest then abruptly hung up.

"Hm." Armsmaster grunted as he then looked at Kid Win.

"Who was that?" Kid asked.

"That was Tech-Priest. You are familiar with her, correct?"

"Kinda?" Kid Win shrugged. "I know she's a new Tinker who registered here, but that's about it."

"That's about it because she hasn't been doing much. She's decided to work as a Rogue rather than a hero or villain. She is a cybernetics Tinker who Triggered to repair injuries to her body. She has invited us to come see her lab for some collaborative Tinkering, if you are interested."

Kid Win's eyes went wide. "Hell- I mean Heck yes I'm interested! Are we leaving now?"

Colin smiled at his protege's excited attitude. Seeing another Tinker's workshop and process was always interesting, especially since the only two local heroic Tinkers in the Bay were in this room already. "Yes. Get your tech and anything you'd be willing to share with Tech-Priest. You can fly alongside my bike."

Kid smiled excitedly as he began gathering up his pieces into a backpack alongside a folder full of looseleaf papers and sketches. After a few minutes he was ready and the two Tinkers mounted their vehicles and made their way to the address on the Docks that Tech-Priest indicated.

The trip didn't take too long for Armsmaster and Kid Win, though Colin had to admit that traveling so far into the Docks while not on patrol was rather concerning. Soon enough, the two heroes stopped in front of an old, closed down factory. Although lights and sound of industry within told him that the building was in fact alive and well.

As they approached the face of the factory, the large steel loading door opened up revealing the interior. Inside, Colin saw several workers operating a variety of metal working machines, alongside grey dressed soldiers carrying Tinkertech weaponry. Armsmaster took careful note of their equipment, positioning, and numbers in case they ever became a threat. Standing in the middle of the door to greet them was Tech-Priest.

Tech-Priest was still recognizable to Colin given her blood-red robes, gas-mask like respirator, glowing red eye, and long, curly black hair, but that was about all that remained the same about her.

First, Tech-Priest had brand new prosthetics on her left arm and legs. Where before her cybernetics were skeletal and crude, these were armor plated, and seemed to contain a far more robust servo-system. Not only that, Taylor wore some kind of power armor underneath her robes. Smart. Almost every Tinker, so long as their speciality allowed it, created armor early on. After all, despite their ability to create many wondrous things, they were still physically human.

Tech-Priest's armor was pseudo-medieval, similar to Gallant's, though more based on scale mail rather than plate armor like the Ward's. But most interestingly, Tech-Priest seemed to have some kind of backpack sticking out of her power armor, from which a large mechanical pincer, not unlike the robotic arms seen in car factories, extended out.

Tech-Priest walked towards Colin and Kid Win. Even Colin could see Kid becoming somewhat unnerved by the scene in front of them. Colin resisted the urge to shake his head. It wouldn't do to insult Tech-Priest in her own workshop.

"Tech-Priest, it is good to see you." Armsmaster politely said as he dismounted his bike and met her half way. He extended out his hand and Tech-Priest shook it. "I see you've been quite busy developing new equipment."

"Pleasure to see you as well Armsmaster." Tech-Priest responded. "And yes, I have been very busy." She then looked at Kid. "And Kid Win. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Tech-Priest walked up to Kid and shook his hand. Kid gave an awkward smile in response. "Uh nice to meet you I guess."

Nodding, Tech-Priest let go of his hand and began walking back into her factory. "Yes well, no reason to stay outside in the cold. Please come in. Armsmaster, you may bring your bike in as well."

Colin did so as he examined the interior of the factory. While it wasn't to the level of the Rig or PRT HQ, Tech-Priest had set up quite the workshop in an exceedingly short period of time. He would've been impressed by her enhanced prosthetics alone, but those combined with her other inventions, and this factory? Marvelous. It wouldn't surprise him if Tech-Priest rated at a Tinker 7.

"I have to say I am very impressed with everything you've done." Colin said, voicing his inner monolog. "I see you took some of my feedback about your prosthetics as well."

Tech-Priest nodded, and Colin could see a crinkling of the corners of her eyes that indicated she was smiling. "Indeed I did. Your feedback on the servos allowed me to reduce the size while maintaining strength and dexterity." She then raised her left arm up and flicked her wrist. From it a small port opened up and a plasma cutter extended out of her forearm. "With the space saved I was even able to install a socket for tools and weapons, as per your suggestion."

Colin grinned. "Very good. I'm glad my advice helped. Though how were you able to overcome the power supply issue?"

Tech-Priest flicked her wrist again and the tool retracted. "Ah, that Armsmaster, is something I won't tell you yet. Perhaps when we finish we could discuss a trade. Schematics for schematics."

The smile fell slightly from Colin's face, but he relented. Tech-Priest wasn't obligated to tell him everything, and as a rogue it only made sense she would want something in return for her designs. "Fair enough. So you mentioned over the phone that you had a project you wished to pitch. What is it?"

Tech-Priest nodded to Colin. "Yes of course. Tell me Armsmaster, do you know of the state of the Bay's ferry?"

"The ferry?" Colin parroted. "I know that the city had shut down the ferry due to high operating costs and low returns, but what about it?"

"Yes well, I have been doing some calculations, and I would like to request approval for repairing the ferry. I know I can get it operational at a rather cheap cost for the city." Tech-Priest said confidently.

Colin frowned, already knowing the answer. He shook his head and said, "Sorry, but there's no way the city would approve of a Tinkertech modification to the ferry. It would put it at your mercy since you'd be the only one who could maintain it."

"Ah but that's where you're wrong, Armsmaster." Taylor said, raising a mechanical finger into the air. "Because I won't be using Tinkertech to repair the ferry."

Both Colin and Kid Win scowled at her, confused.

Taylor continued as she tapped the side of her head with her mechanical finger. "You see Armsmaster, I have a full equivalent understanding of a Bachelor's Degree in both Mechanical Engineering and Naval Engineering. Give me a few more weeks, and I'll have Master's in both as well. With this, I can repair the ferry through conventional means and material at the fraction of the cost of hiring a firm to do so." Taylor proudly said.

Colin stared at her blankly, not knowing what to say. When he looked in the corner of his HUD, he saw that his lie detector was taking a significantly longer time figuring out if what Taylor said was true. Eventually, it came up with a 90% truth rating. Well… that was surprising.

"How?" Was all Kid Win could ask, shocked at the young girl's level of education.

Colin however, understood what happened. "Neural Implants." He flatly said.

Tech-Priest nodded, pleased that Colin had guessed correctly. "You are correct, Armsmaster. Thanks to a little help from Panacea, the cranial circuitry installed into my head has greatly expanded my learning capabilities. Within only a few days, I have downloaded terabytes of science, engineering, and technology concepts, classes, and lessons directly into my brain, and I have the utmost confidence I can repair the ferry."

Colin nodded in return. That was a lot to take in. But also very good to know. That level of cognitive augmentation for rapid learning could probably qualify as a mid level Thinker rank. Colin then wondered how such an augmentation would help him. While his Tinker ability gave him a strong understanding of science and technology innately, a deeper understanding of fields not provided by his speciality, such as chemistry or biology, would be very useful.

"What the fuck?" He heard Kid Win mutter under his breath.

Colin frowned imperceptibly at the boy. He should both know better than to curse while in costume, and to show such outward distaste towards another Tinker.

Hoping Tech-Priest didn't notice the Ward, Colin said, "That is extraordinarily impressive. The only Tinker I could think of who could create anything of that level is Dragon." Colin then mentally bumped Tech-Priest up to a Tinker 8 in his head. Higher than himself, which somewhat grated on his pride. But Colin could accept it for the sake of cordiality. "I can pass your request on to both Director Piggot and the Mayor. Do you have some kind of engineering proposal document that I can give to them?"

Tech-Priest nodded. "Yes, I do. I'll have it sent to your email once we are done here. It also contains the total projected cost of two million dollars, and a cost analysis report explaining how much the city will save by paying me rather than contracting out the repair or building a new ferry, in addition to forecasted profits from the ferry itself."

"Very good. All of those will go far in helping your pitch to the city." Colin truthfully said. After all, money did make the world go round. "If that was the project you wished to pitch to me, do you wish to get to Tinkering now? I would very much like to see some of what you've created."

"As I would like to examine both of your technologies." Tech-Priest said. "Although, since you two probably don't want to change out your limbs yet."

"Yet?" Kid Win muttered under his breath.

Tech-Priest continued on, not noticing Kid Win's quip. "I'll show you some of my TinkerTech that doesn't require augmentation."

Approaching a steel and wood work table in the center of the factory, Tech-Priest reached for her side and pulled out a pistol. It was an obviously Tinkertech pistol, although blockier than anything Colin would've made. She also had some workers cart over a pincered robotic factory arm similar to the one that was on her back. Tech-Priest then used her robotic claw to pick up the arm on the cart and place it onto the table.

"These are two of my first inventions, the Laspistol and the Servo-Arm." Taylor proudly said as she displayed her inventions.

"Ohh!" Was all Kid Win said as he immediately set upon the Laspistol. "Heavier than it looks. What do you use to power it?" Kid Win then looked down the barrel and he studied the focal lens of the gun.

He was interrupted when Tech-Priest then ripped the pistol out of his hands. Kid was momentarily stunned at how aggressively Taylor took back her gun as she scowled at him. Tech-Priest then pressed a button and ejected what looked like the power pack out of the grip, where a normal pistol would house its magazine. Once it was removed, she handed the Laspistol back to Kid.

"Don't look down the barrel of any weapon." She hissed at him.

Kid Win embarrassedly looked away, a little ashamed. And Colin thought rightly so. Kid had gone through a firearms safety course, and should know better. He'll be sure to bring this up on Kid's next review.

"Sorry." Kid Win muttered as he grabbed the Laspistol.

Taylor nodded when she believed he was sufficiently chastised. "And to answer your question, I have a high-density power cell made primarily from zinc I designed. They can be recharged through standard electrical plugs, but also have built-in solar chargers."

"Huh, solar as well. I didn't think about that. I haven't run out of juice in the middle of a patrol yet, but having something like that would be useful for an extended operation." Kid Win mumbled out, no doubt experiencing some flashes of ideas. "Also what's the power output on this thing? I only see two modes, standard and overcharged."

"At its default setting, both my Laspistols and Lasguns fire a bolt of highly energetic, condensed photons equal in power to a .50 caliber anti-material around. On overcharge they fire at roughly double the strength for double the power consumption." Taylor flatly said.

Both Colin and Kid Win blinked at her.

"Wow…" Kid said after a few seconds of silence. "You uhh… don't really mess around, do you?"

"Of course not. When the threats to my family and I include the likes of Lung and Hookwolf, I will not settle for anything less than the best." Tech-Priest said.

"A respectable approach." Colin admitted, to the surprise of Kid. Colin then looked at Kid and said, "Many of my weapons are similarly lethal, such as the plasma halberd or my Nanothorn project. It is less the tool and more how you use it." Colin then shifted his gaze at Tech-Priest. "That being said, it would behoove you to look into developing some non-lethal countermeasures as well. You wouldn't want a murder charge because you used a Lasgun on a regular gangster or a non-Brute Cape."

Tech-Priest nodded. "I have been experimenting with some but have yet to come up with a design. Things like stun batons and web guns that would fire a material similar to containment foam."

Kid relaxed a bit at that. "That's good. At the very least, I could trade the designs of my Spark Pistols for your Laspistol designs. My Spark Pistols use hardlight electrical blasts that carry kinetic energy rather than thermal or photonic. Good for nonlethal attacks against gangsters and non-Brutes, but not so much against someone like Hookwolf. You could use my pistols to scale down yours, and I can use yours to scale up mine."

"Director Piggot wouldn't appreciate you carrying around a fully lethal armor piercing weapon rated to fight Brutes." Colin warned. "Although I could see the benefits of having such a weapon should the need arise."

"An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure." Tech-Priest quoted.

Colin nodded. "Agreed. I will speak to the Director. It will have to be approved of course, and probably only used in A-Class emergencies and higher." He then looked to Tech-Priest. "That is of course, if you're willing to trade."

"Hmm, perhaps. That is, after all, why I invited the two of you here. Though it's interesting you say I should scale my las-weaponry down, as I have actually been trying to scale up weapons to cannon and turret size, but haven't been able to." Tech-Priest said.

Behind his visor, Kid Win's eyes went a little wide. "Oh! That's actually something else I have!" Kid Win then reached into his bag and pulled out his notebook and flipped it open. On it was a some kind of oversized turret, easily 15 feet long with a barrel that was 3 or 4 feet in diameter. "This is a design I've been messing with called the Alternator Cannon. It's another idea I've been looking into for Anti-Brute purposes. It's pretty much a massively scaled up version of my Spark Pistols, capable of alternating between different types of projectiles, like hard light or electrical spark blasts."

Taylor bent down and looked over the designs. "Intriguing. How did you get around the issue of heat build up in such a large weapon?"

"A combination of specialized Tinkertech alloy heatsinks, and the helixed electro-magnetic rail helps keep energy from pooling in one spot for too long, preventing overheating." Kid proudly said.

"Impressive." Taylor admitted as she read over more of the design.

"It is." Colin added on. "Although I am concerned as to why this is the first time I've heard of this."

Kid's proud expression suddenly turned sheepish. "I uh… I meant to show it to you and the science team, but I wanted to have something finished first. I wouldn't want to waste everyone's time getting approvals and reviews for a project that I'd never finish."

"An understandable concern." Colin conceded. "Although a weapon of this size and power should be discussed and tested even in only the planning phase. You have my support in such a project, but we will be having a lengthy review of it once we return to HQ."

Kid looked down, a little sullen after getting chastised twice today. "Understood." he said softly.

"Regardless of your regulations and approvals." Tech-Priest interrupted. "I am thoroughly impressed by your weapon, Kid Win. I am willing to trade you the designs for both my Laspistol and Lasgun in exchange for your Spark Pistol and Alternator Cannon."

Kid seemed taken aback by Tech-Priest's offer and moved to say something, but when he opened his mouth no words came out. He paused to think it over, his face visibly conflicted, and Colin could understand why. His Spark Pistols were one thing, but to also trade the designs to his Alternator Cannon when he hadn't even built a prototype yet? That was asking for a lot.

Weighing the unloaded laspistol in his hand, Kid looked at Tech-Priest and said, "Okay, I'm down for a trade."

Tech-Priest nodded and began taking scans of Kid Win's designs, and exchanging contact information to trade CAD files and other documents.

While Kid and Tech-Priest talked about that, Colin took to examining the Servo-Arm. It was a solid piece of equipment, heavily armored, and the demonstration Taylor provided by picking it up with her own Servo-Arm showed it was capable of lifting several hundred pounds at the minimum.

"A good design. Simple but powerful." Colin said, complimenting the Servo-Arm. "Although I don't see a control interface."

Taylor turned to him, extending her own Servo-Arm. "Ah, that is because the Servo-Arm connects directly to my brain through the cyber-mantle attached to my spine. I can move the mechadendrite as easily as I can move my own arm." Taylor appeared thoughtful for a moment. "Although if such a modification is unappealing to you, I'm sure it could be modified to accept voice or hand controls, as well as mounting directly to your armor."

"Very good." Colin nodded. "Although you should think about installing a secondary control mechanism into your Servo-Arm as well. If the neural transmitters get damaged, you'll need another way of controlling it so you don't just have a hundred pounds of scrap metal bolted onto your back."

Tech-Priest hummed as she considered Colin's advice. Good, she was listening and open to criticism. Some Tinkers became very defensive when people made comments on their work, leading to difficulty in collaboration.

"Furthermore," Colin continued. "While this pincer is useful for heavy lifting, and perhaps close quarters combat, its functionality is limited. I would suggest perhaps making a new head that has a variety of tools that could be used depending on the situation, not unlike my own halberd."

Tech-Priest seemed to take the suggestion in stride as she stared at the Servo-Arm. "A fair point. Although I lack the capability to miniaturize technology as you can. I am concerned about loss of effectiveness in creating such a multitool. I would be turning the Servo-Arm from a tool that is very good at one task, into a tool that is mediocre at several. A Swiss army knife rather than a switchblade."

"Well why not just make the heads swap-able then?" Kid Win cut in. He almost jumped when both Colin and Tech-Priest snapped their heads toward him, but he continued. "You know, rather than making a head that has a mini pincer, drill, and laser gun, why not make separate heads for each. Then you could swap out the head before or during missions depending on what you need."

"Hmm, a modular design." Taylor nodded. "Both very good suggestions, and ones that I will indeed experiment with. But regardless, we are getting off topic. Are either of you interested in trading anything for the designs of the Servo-Arm?"

"I am." Colin stepped forward. If he could modify the Servo-Arm to have a multi-tool similar to his halberd, then he would have far more functionality in the field.

"And what do you wish to exchange for it?" Taylor bluntly asked.

Colin held up his halberd. "My plasma halberd." When Kid Win's gasped at that, Colin said, "Not this exact one, nor will I give you all of the miniaturized Tinkertech within, only the plasma emitter and base halberd itself."

Tech-Priest frowned behind her respirator, but nodded. "That is fair."

"Very good." Colin nodded. "We can exchange designs through our regular channels."

"Understood." Taylor said. "Well, unless either of you are in the market for cybernetic limbs or organs, I do not have much left to share with you tonight. But if you wish, I could give you a tour of my Manufactorum."

"I think we could spare the time." Colin said, looking at Kid. Kid checked with console and when there were no immediate fires, nodded. "But before that, there is something I have to give you."

A slot opened up on Colin's power armor and he pulled out an envelope and handed it to Tech-Priest. Tech-Priest took it and gingerly opened up the letter, revealing a check inside.

"It's your monthly stipend as a PRT-affiliated rogue." Armsmaster explained. "$10,000 for the month of February."

Tech-Priest looked over the check and nodded, pocketing it within her robe as she said, "Thank you, Armsmaster. Though while I don't wish to sound crass, is this all the PRT will provide me?"

"Yes. I was actually able to negotiate a higher than standard rogue rate for you, but I understand that in the grand scheme of Tinkers, it is not much money." Colin shrugged. "Best I could say is continue to develop new technology that the PRT may purchase, and they'll be willing to give you more funding."

"What of the combat prosthetics I sent you?" Taylor asked, a little annoyance in her tone.

"Still going through reviews. It's not exactly something we can just test out on our troopers like most Tinkertech sent in. Not to mention there have been multiple concerned parties over the long term safety and ethical implications of your technology."

"Ethical implications?" Taylor practically spit out the words. "What ethical implications are there in building better troopers? Save for maintenance there are literally no downsides to my technology."

"I agree." Colin said, ignoring Kid's surprised look at him. "But unfortunately others do not share our viewpoints. They see progress as something of a slippery slope. One that should be approached slowly and with caution. It is an understandable position, and the reason why review boards are a thing." Colin made sure to leave out that Dragon was a particular detractor of Taylor's ideas to cyberize PRT Troopers.

"Hmph. Fools." Tech-Priest shook her head. "Regardless, thank you for giving this to me. I do mean to sound ungrateful, I am merely… frustrated."

Colin raised a hand to stop her. "It is understandable." He then believed it would be a good idea to shift topics. "Why don't we go on that tour then?"

Tech-Priest nodded her head, taking a deep breath before she began explaining the various nooks and crannies of her workshop.

Taylor was actually a little sad to Armsmaster and Kid Win leave. The collaborative Tinkering session was very productive, even more so than she thought it would be. Their advice on her technology was sound, although she had a feeling she would have trouble implementing some of it.

The Servo-Arm's functionality was integrated all across the mechanical limb, not just the head, so a fully modular design probably wasn't possible. But making different types of servo-arms that could then be socketed into her cyber-mantle could work.

Now back in her private workshop beneath the manufactorum, Taylor opened her laptop and loaded in the designs for the plasma halberd, Spark Pistol, and Alternator Cannon on her CAD software.

The Spark Pistols were relatively easy to understand. Thanks to her cranial circuitry, Taylor was already downloading textbooks on both electrical engineering and physics, which would speed up the process of her reverse engineering the weapons. She'd probably try to use them to create a non-lethal setting on her las weapons, or perhaps just try and build standalone Spark weapons. She could already see parts of the pistols she could simplify and modify to make it easier for her to recreate. It was interesting food for thought.

The Alternator Cannon is what she was more excited for however. The way Kid Win scaled up his technology was rather ingenious, and better yet, it looked like it could be applicable to her own las weapons. While she couldn't build the anti-grav technology that Kid Win seemed to be fond of, she could easily throw the scaled up "Lascannons" onto a tripod or on top of a vehicle like a Humvee.

All she would need then is some kind of targeting system with enough logic and spirit and she could set them around her home and base as automated defense turrets. Or at the very least, have them be used by a Guardsman weapons team. Taylor smiled as the image of a lascannon melting Hookwolf came to her mind. Taylor then shook the image out of her head as she went back to work.

Last up was Armsmaster's plasma halberd. Taylor found the use of plasma as the weapon intriguing. She'd only considered using the plasma as a ranged weapon due to how unstable it could be as an energy source. Armsmaster had some kind of emitter that coated the blade of his halberd with a plasma.

It was an interesting design, but it wasn't perfect. The emitter could be damaged, leaving only the blade, which in and of itself was still extremely dangerous. It appeared to be made of Tinkertech alloys as the blade alone could cut through steel. Taylor would have to get the formula for it from Armsmaster at a later date, or attempt to reverse engineer it from the design he gave her.

Regardless, Taylor was still hesitant to use plasma for such a weapon. She wasn't confident in her ability to contain the plasma in such a way that it would be stable enough where she wouldn't have to worry about it exploding in her face. Rather than plasma, what if she used some kind of force field generator?

Taylor had been toying around with ideas for creating force fields to protect herself and her father. She hadn't gotten beyond the concept stage for them, but the ideas were there. If she could create a field around a sword or halberd or axe that could break apart matter, she could create a kind of Force Weapon that could cut through the toughest materials with ease. Hell, it wouldn't surprise her if it could hurt an Endbringer. Maybe even kill one.

Taylor chuckled at that. Killing an Endbringer. That was a lofty, and hubristic goal. Certainly the idea appealed to her, but she felt like she should stick to more realistic goals for now. Like saving an entire city.

She shook her head and created a new 3D file to work in. This meeting alone had given her ideas for half a dozen new projects in addition to the ones she was already working on. Thankfully, her cranial circuitry allowed her to work with limited sleep, although she still required food and produced waste, something she found to be an inefficient use of her time.

Idly, she wondered if she could create artificial organs which would eliminate the need for her digestive system. A few minutes later she realized she was already drawing up schematics for such a thing. Taylor sighed as she had another project now. Maybe she'd text Amy for advice on removing her digestive tract. The healer had an intuitive understanding of biology that Taylor could barely comprehend, even with her enhanced intelligence, and could give good advice when they bounced ideas back and forth.

Chris slowly trudged his way into the Ward's room, tired after all of today's events. He moved to sit down on the couch, not even bothering to take off his costume yet as he rested his head on the back of the sofa.

"Long day?" A girl's voice asked beside him.

Lifting his head up, Chris saw Dennis and Missy approaching him, Clockblocker and Vista in costume respectively. It looked like they just got back from patrol.

"Hey guys." Chris greeted with a small wave. "And yeah, you could say that." He then rested his head back again.

"Is that so?" Dennis said as he sat down on a nearby chair. "Why don't you tell us how meeting with the Bay's newest Tinker was like?"

Chris just stared blankly at the ceiling. "I don't even know how to explain it."

"Oh?" Missy grinned widely as she sat down on the couch as well. "Looks like it was a crazy night. Any potential for a budding romance between the only two teenage Tinkers in the city?"

Chris snorted loudly. "Fuck no."

When there was no immediate reply to his comment, Chris realized he probably said that with a lot more venom than he had intended. He lifted his head back up and saw both Dennis and Missy looking at him with confusion and a little bit of worry.

Chris sighed. "That was too rude. She's not… bad, per say. Just… completely fucking terrifying. Way too terrifying to even consider anything romantic towards her."

"Sheesh, that bad?" Dennis said as he leaned forward. "How scary are we talking about here? Sophia levels of terrifying? Or like, Nilbog level terrifying?"

"She's her own brand of scary." Chris shook his head. "Sophia was a bitch who took pleasure in hurting others, while Nilbog is Nilbog. It's not really fair to compare her to either of them. It's more like… like talking to a machine more than a person. Things that you and I think are horrible, she doesn't care about. But she's not malicious about it either. More apathetic or ignorant than anything."

"Ah, so more like Terminator 2, T-800 scary." Dennis said, nodding his head. When Missy looked at him weird, Dennis continued. "It's about a time traveling killbot who has to protect the protagonist. He's scary as Hell at first, but gets to learn a bit about being human through the movie."

Missy shook her. "Boys." She muttered under her breath. Then she looked at Chris and asked, "Well did you at least learn anything?"

Chris nodded. "Yeah. First, Tech-Priest is super fucking smart. She modified her brain to make it so she can learn faster, downloading data directly into her head." Both Missy and Dennis gaped at that. "Yeah, that's the kind of scary I'm talking about. But still, her being so smart helps. Her tech is super good, and we came up with a lot of ideas. She has these robot limbs called Servo-Arms which work like a pair of jaws of life, but lack tactical flexibility. We talked about having modular heads which could be swapped out as needed, which actually reminds me of her weapons.

"She created a kind of laser pistol, but unlike my Spark Pistols, they use concentrated photons rather than kinetic hard light. I've been trying to figure out how to integrate the two together, but the two designs are so different that at this point I think it would be easier to try and reverse engineer Tech-Priest's laspistol rather than modifying my own. Although now that I think about it, the primary difference is in the barrels. If I made the barrels swap-able between hardlight and pure laser, similar to the way the Servo-Arms could be modular, then that could work. Although the power supply-"

"CHRIS!" Missy shouted, drawing him out of his rant. "You back with us? You went into Tinker mode for a while there."

Chris blinked at her. "Oh… Sorry about that. You know how Tinkers get."

Dennis grunted in amusement while Missy just shook her head.

"Well I'm glad one of us had fun tonight." Dennis said. "Let me tell you about the bullshit we had to go through during patrol today."

Chris politely listened to Dennis and Missy complain about their patrol, but in the back of his mind kept rolling the Tinker ideas around. If he could make Tech-Priest's laspistol into a barrel, why couldn't he make new barrels for a variety of different uses. His mind then shifted to his incomplete weapons he showed Armsmaster earlier today. He had the barrel for that laser-shotgun, could he modify that to work with his Spark Pistols?

As soon as Dennis finished retelling his story of their patrol that was successful in only stopping literers, Chris said goodbye to both Dennis and Missy and moved straight to his workshop. He was getting too many ideas now, and he needed to start building. Between constructing his Alternator Cannon, building his own laspistol barrel, and his ideas for converting all of his existing barrels into Spark Pistol modifications, Chris had a feeling he wasn't going to be sleeping much over the next few days.

He shook his head, but smiled as he felt inspiration flood into him. Tech-Priest may be terrifying, but damn if she wasn't good to bounce ideas off of. He'd never had this much progress from his collaborative sessions with Armsmaster.

Trainwreck lumbered through the Merchant hideout, an abandoned shopping center that no one besides them wanted. He didn't mind the trash filled complex though. He actually much preferred it to the dank, decrypt apartment buildings that he couldn't fit his armored body through.

He approached two Merchant guards standing in front of the store that their boss was squatting in for today. They stepped out of Trainwreck's way, nervously looking away as he passed them. Fucking pussies.

Trainwreck entered the abandoned Sears auto parts section where he knew Squealer and Skidmark were. Squealer was busy modifying her truck to have some kind of sonic cannon. It was a good invention for the strung out bitch, and Trainwreck was only a little pissed she wouldn't give him one to combine into his armor.

Trainwreck didn't hide the fact that he ogled her, the busty blonde who normally wore some of the skimpiest clothing he'd ever seen. Damn, she was a hot piece. Or at least she would be, if didn't look all crack-head-like with her bloodshot eyes, cracked lips, and poorly maintained hygiene. Not like Trainwreck could judge though. Right now she was covered in grease and oil while elbow deep in the engine of her truck.

"Hey Squealer, where's the boss?" Trainwreck yelled at her.

Squealer peeked out of the car and was about to say something, when Skidmark's voice shouted out from a nearby room.

"In here bitch." Skidmark shouted back, coming out of his office. "Don't interrupt my baby when she's doing her work. And what the fuck do you want? Ain't you supposed to be looking over our boys by the trainyard with Mush?"

"Yeah, but I got some important info I wanted to tell you. Personally." Trainwreck stressed, hoping he was leaving enough clues to get Skidmark curious.

It worked as Skidmark looked at Trainwreck contemplatively before saying, "Well, you're here anyway. So spill it. What's so important you had to haul your rusted ass over here?"

Trainwreck resisted the urge to deck Skidmark then and there and said, "A couple of my boys were doing some scouting by the docks, looking for potential new hideouts. They told me that a new Cape has set up a base in an old factory. A Tinker at that."

Skidmark's eyes went a little bit wider at that news, while Squealer stopped working on her truck to pay attention to the conversation.

"A Tinker huh?" Skidmark rubbed his chin. "She part of a team or anything?"

Trainwreck shook his head. "Not that I know of. But apparently she's starting up her own gang, and has a few minions working for her. But outside of her, my boys saw no other Capes."

"What does she make?" Squealer asked as she walked away from her truck and to her two comrades.

"Rumor has it, cyborg parts." Trainwreck said, letting some of the info he got from Coil spill. "I had some of the boys do some digging, and apparently she's a new rogue trying to sell upgrades to people. The name is Tech-Priest."

"That's a lame fucking name." Squealer snorted. She leaned forward, giving Trainwreck an ample view of her cleavage. "Is that why you're telling us about her? You want us to go recruit her so she can build you some new limbs? Maybe get yourself a new squeeze that'll make you look less ugly?"

Trainwreck frowned. He really wanted to backhand this dumb bitch into the ground. But he had a job to do. So instead, he took a deep, calming breath and said, "I just thought this would be a good opportunity. If we can get her to join us, we'd have a third Tinker on our team. More than anyone else in the city. Hell together, we'd be able to do some great shit. Like, Toybox level shit." Trainwreck looked Skidmark right in the eyes as he said that.

Contrary to popular belief, Skidmark wasn't an idiot. Sure he was hedonistic, short sighted, and an all around degenerate, but you don't get to be a successful Black, drug-dealing supervillain in a city full of Neo-Nazis and Superheroes without being smart. Trainwreck could see the calculations going on behind Skidmark's eyes. The potential money for making and selling Tinkertech was a fucking gold mine, more than what drugs alone could provide. Not to mention if Tech-Priest turned some of the Merchants into cyborgs, they could be a real power in the city, instead of playing 4th fiddle to the E88, ABB, and Coil.

"Shit Trainwreck, so you do have a brain behind that ass-ugly face of yours." Skidmark grinned, showing off his array of rotted teeth. "You're right, we do have an opportunity here." He then turned to Squealer. "Finish putting your truck back together, baby, we're going to get you an apprentice."

Squealer grinned back at him and went to her car and began working at a rapid pace.

"I'll head back to the Trainyard and tell Mush to get over here." Trainwreck said.

"You do that." Skidmark said, waving him off. "I'll get the rest of the boys together. We're going on a raid."

Trainwreck nodded his head and made his way out of the garage. Once he was outside, he grabbed a nearby Merchant and ordered him to go to the Trainyard and tell Mush what the plan was. The Merchant fervently nodded while in Trainwreck's iron grip before practically sprinting for his car.

With that done, Trainwreck got the Hell out of there and moved to meet back up with Coil. Trainwreck didn't exactly know what game Coil was playing now, ordering him to give this intel about Tech-Priest to the Merchants and then abandoning them. Tinkers as good as Tech-Priest don't do much good as a strung out junkie. Squealer could attest to that. This was one of those chessmaster, 'I am ten steps ahead of you' things that Trainwreck didn't get paid to think about. Regardless, he finished his mission, and honestly was happy that he no longer had to deal with the likes of Skidmark or Mush anymore as he made his way to the rendezvous point.

Chapter Text

Sunday, February 20th.

Taylor sighed in annoyance as she watched the automaton collapse onto the Manufactorum's floor in front of her. Another failure. Taylor, like all good Tinkers, had many projects going on simultaneously. And in an effort to increase the safety of her own home, Taylor was currently experimenting with the creation of various drones and battle automatons. Experimenting and failing.

Taylor growled as she looked over the scrap pile that was her current iteration of the battle automaton. It was humanoid in shape, with skeletal metallic limbs not unlike her initial prosthetics, a simple, unarmored torso that looked like a spine and ribcage, and a plain looking head that had a single unadorned safety glass visor as a face. In terms of design, it should work just as cleanly and efficiently as her own prosthetics. The automaton's parts were, after all, derived from all of her own cybernetics.

No, the hardware wasn't the problem. Her design was solid, she was sure of it. It was the programming, the AI, that was the issue. As much as Taylor detested the idea of AI, it was quickly becoming apparent that if she wanted these drones to operate at any level of effectiveness, she would need at least some kind of low level AI to do so.

The idea of trying to create AI grated her. She wasn't even sure if creating AI was within the scope of her powers. In her humble opinion, Taylor was a master of cybernetics. She understood the intersection of man and machine. And while she wholeheartedly believed that the flesh was weak, she also understood that the machine was soulless.

Sure, she could try to give a machine intelligence, program it to understand knowledge. Hell she could probably even give it sentience, to learn the value of knowledge. But to give it a soul? Taylor knew that she was incapable of doing such a thing.

But someone or something had to be. Before her Trigger, Taylor was never really religious. But now, since she endured the locker and was gifted her powers, she felt the call of something greater than herself. Something which gave her her powers, her knowledge, her new beliefs. She could hear the spirits of the machines around her as her powers taught her to placate and respect them. But she knew that even those spirits had to come from somewhere as well. There was something more, something greater watching over her and over her inventions, and this being, this… God, whispered to her the dangers of AI, the abominable intelligence.

It warned her that the machine itself was vulnerable to corruption and bound to its programming without a soul, and any attempt to create a soul outside of this Machine God itself was doomed to fail. All it would do was create a perversion of the human soul and spirit of the machine, a soulless sentience anathema to all life.

Taylor shook her head. This was all but theology which explained why she could not move forward with her combat automaton ideas, but did not offer any solutions or alternatives.

"Boss?" A gruff voice behind her pulled her out of her internal monologue.

Taylor turned around and saw Sgt. Major Merrick, still armed and armored, alongside two other guardsmen, Charlie and Daryl.

"Getting late and the boys were thinking of closing up. You planning on staying here for the night or do you need one of us to take you home?" Merrick asked.

Glancing at a clock, Taylor saw that it was now midnight. It wasn't that late and she could keep working, but she didn't think she'd make any more progress. Best to just leave for now and return to work in the morning with a clear head.

"We can return. Who will be taking the night shift?" Taylor asked as she moved to store the automaton's body underneath a workbench.

"Me and Daryl." Merrick answered. "Charlie can take you back to your place."

"Very good." Taylor said as she moved to the Manfactorum's exit, Charlie marching behind her. She then opened up the side door that led the outside, and froze as she did.

Charlie, immediately picking up on Taylor's shift, readied his lasgun and said, "What's wrong?"

Taylor scanned the alleyway and road in front of her. She saw nothing out of the ordinary, but something was making the hairs on the back of her neck stand. Switching from the visual spectrum, Taylor's mechanical eye looked in the thermal, and there she saw it. A vehicle, a strange bastard child of a monster truck and an APC, in the middle of the street, parked right in front of the Manufactorum. And on top of the vehicle, between two tesla-coils, there was someone manning what looked like an obvious Tinkertech heavy weapon turret.

"Get down!" Taylor shouted as she dove for the ground, with Charlie following at the last second.

A moment later, the steel sliding doors of the Manufactorum burst open with a cacophonous racket that tore at Taylor's ears. It emanated a high pitched squeal and a ground rumbling bass at the same time, producing a kinetic impact that practically ripped the steel doors off their hinges, kicking up a cloud of dust that concealed the Manufactorm's entrance. A sonic or force weapon, Taylor guessed.

"Shit baby, why don't we use that thing more often?" Taylor heard a voice from the truck yell out.

Pushing herself up, Taylor glared at the speaker. It didn't take her long to put a name to the face. Sticking his head out of the passenger's seat, Taylor saw a dark skinned man who wore a blue mask that covered the top half of his face, and a long blue cape. Skidmark, the glorious leader of the Archer's Bridge Merchants. The Hell were they doing so far into the docks?

"That's cuz we never have anything good to shoot with it." A shrill, high pitched voice replied.

The speaker was a busty, blonde woman, who wore a skimpy tank top and a pair of welding goggles over a face covered with caked on makeup. She sat on the top of the monster truck, aiming the sonic turret at the Manufactorum. Squealer, the Merchant's resident Tinker.

"You blew up my door." Taylor growled out, her mechanical fingers leaving lines in the gravel as she formed a fist.

"What's that bitch I can't hear you from down there!" Squealer shouted from atop her truck, aiming her turret right at Taylor. "Not that what you say matters! Now be a good girl and stand up slowly, and tell any of your goons inside to come out carrying any money and tech you got, otherwise I'm going to turn you into a red smear on the pavement."

Slowly, Taylor pushed herself off the ground and stood. But not because she wanted to comply with Squealer's demands. But because she wanted to look that sacrilegious burnout in the eyes as Taylor's face morphed into a full snarl of hate and contempt.

"You can have my technology…" Taylor hissed out. "After you pry it from my dead, metallic hands."

Squealer didn't immediately flatten Taylor with another blast of her sonic cannon. Instead she glanced at Skidmark, who only laughed and clapped his hands.

"Shit bich, you got some fight in you." Skidmark chuckled. "Oh I can't wait to beat it out of you. Okay boys, let's show this slut who's boss!"

At his command, a large group of armed Merchants dismounted from the back of the truck. A dozen, then another half dozen more, all armed with a variety of weapons, some carrying chains and pipes while others had pistols and submachine guns. The gangster approached Taylor, faces split with savage smiles as they savoured the apparent superiority they held over a Parahuman.

Their smiles fell when a volley of blue laser beams shot out of the smoke covering the Manufactorum's entrance. The hard light pulses of energy slammed into the approaching Merchants with the kinetic force of bean bag shotgun shells, far less lethal than her standard laser, but more than painful enough to break bone and incapacitate. Three Merchants fell to the ground, either unconscious or writhing in pain. The rest quickly scattered, running to cover from the attack.

Taylor was glad she was able to finish her non-lethal modifications to the Guardsmen's las-weapons based on Kid Win's Spark Pistols. The Merchants however, did not take the counterattack lying down, and the few who carried firearms began spraying wildly towards Taylor and to the inside of the Manufactorum. Meanwhile, Squealer didn't fire her sonic gun again. Instead, Taylor could hear the rising whine of power being funneled into the weapon as the Tesla-coils burst with electricity. Squealer needed to charge her weapon, which meant Taylor needed to take her out before she could finish.

Her face shifting to a grimace, Taylor turned around and crouched down, bending her head forward as well. She knew her Dragonscale power armor was bulletproof, and wanted to cover the only part of her body that was still unarmored, her head. As bullets pinged off her armor, Taylor saw Charlie slowly picking himself up, the old man still somewhat disoriented from the sonic cannon attack.

Taylor made her way to him, grabbing the man by the crook of his arm with her cybernetic hand.

"Stand up and fight, Guardsman!" Taylor roared as she stood herself, her augmetics and power armor servos easily allowing her to rip the far heavier man off the ground.

Once he was standing, the former Navy sailor seemed to get his bearings. Realizing he was in a firefight, he quickly nodded his head. "Aye aye Ma'am!" Charlie shouted as he then jumped behind a dumpster for cover and began firing his lasgun at the attacking Merchants.

Nodding her head at the rallied Guardsman, Taylor then turned to face her attackers. The Merchants were still trading fire with the Guardsmen inside the Manufactorum. To her surprise, they actually moved with some semblance of tactics, as a few Merchants would spray their automatic weapons at the Manufactorum, suppressing the Guardsmen inside while a handful of gangsters armed with melee weapons rushed towards the opening.

Snarling, Taylor knew she had to stop that advance. Taylor lifted her left arm up horizontally in front of her forehead, the combat prosthetic shielding the unarmored top her head from any bullets as her right arm moved for her laspistol. As she did, Taylor felt her adrenaline rush, experiencing an almost dizzying combination of rage and fear. It almost caused her to fumble her gun as she drew it. She would have to install an implant to regulate her emotions in the future to prevent this.

The Merchants, now seeing Taylor was joining the fray, turned more of their fire towards her. Taylor felt more bullets ping off her armor and left arm, rocking her body. Snarling behind her mask, Taylor roared. It wasn't the sound any sane person would make. She roared as she felt her anger and righteous fury overtake her. How dare these gangsters, these poor excuses of flesh, try to take her technology? She was the one who was chosen by the Machine God to create it, and she would not give up a single scrap while there was still breath within her.

Taylor charged, shooting wildly with her laspistol as she did. Her first shot went wide as she ran and fired simultaneously. Adjusting her aim, Taylor slowed into a walk, allowing herself to steady her shots as she fired. Two Merchants, carrying a pipe and wrench respectively, went down as her hard light bolts struck them in the torsos, pulverizing their rib cages.

Another Merchant carrying an aluminum baseball bat, changed target from the Manufactorum to Taylor. He rushed Taylor's flank, swinging the bludgeon at the back of Taylor's knee. However, the impact of the aluminum bat against the composite plating of Taylor's power armor was not in the Merchant's favor, as the hit literally did not do anything to Taylor while the bat flew out Merchant's hand.

Taylor's head turned to the Merchant, and with half a thought Taylor's Servo-Arm shot out and grabbed onto the Merchant's neck, lifting him up off his feet and slamming him onto the ground. While the concrete did not crack beneath the impact of the Merchant, the Merchant's skull did, leaving a puddle of blood that began to pool out beneath him as Taylor let him go.

With her intervention, Merrick and Daryl inside of the base were able to return fire. With expertly trained shots from their lasguns, they headshot several Merchant gunmen who were crouched, but not fully hidden behind their cover, knocking them out with skull fracturing impacts. Seeing their offensive fail, these Merchants began to fall back to Squealer's truck.

Taylor raised her laspistol once more to gun down the fleeing gangsters, but before she could fire, another sonic explosion detonated beneath her, sending her into the air despite the weight of her armor. When Taylor landed, she felt the air in her lungs leave. She was temporarily stunned, and it took a few seconds before she realized she was no longer holding onto her laspistol. She then felt something warm drip down her face, taking a few seconds more to realize her head was bleeding.

Cranking her neck up, Taylor looked and saw Squealer still on top of her vehicle, gleefully cackling as she celebrated her hit on Taylor.

"MERRICK!" Taylor roared, her voice a strained croak. "TAKE HER DOWN!"

"We're on it!" The leader of Taylor's Guardsmen yelled from inside.

As Taylor waited for her subordinate's aid, she slowly stood up, the weak, organic parts of her body groaning in pain. Before she could really do anything, a heavy impact slammed into her chest, knocking her back to the ground once more. Taylor wheezed, her dazed brain trying to figure out what just hit her. There was no massive sonic boom, so it probably wasn't Squealer's sonic cannon.

Looking down at her chest, Taylor saw that there was a billiards 8-ball indented in her body armor. Taylor raised a brow. How did that hit her so hard? Immediately her mind said that it was most likely a Parahuman power. She guessed it was Skidmark's, but she didn't know for sure. She had a vague idea that he used some kind of beam of force but that was it.

Taylor had been so concerned with expanding her Tinker arsenal and her base scientific knowledge that she didn't take the time to research into the powers of the local minor villains. Sure she knew the big ones like Lung, Kaiser, and Hookwolf, but if she was asked what anyone in the Undersiders did she'd have no answers. That was a failure on her part, and one that she would rectify, should she survive.

"Stay on the ground if you know what's good for you slut!" Skidmark yelled at Taylor, face split into a grin as he did. The grin fell however, when a bolt of blue energy slammed into his shoulder, knocking Skidmark to the ground.

Taylor turned her head towards the hard light shot's source and saw Charlie with his smoking barrel. Taylor smirked as she watched Skidmark clutch his shoulder and crawl behind the cover of Squealer's truck once more.

"Get the fuck out there bitch!" Skidmark yelled from behind the truck. Taylor didn't know who he was yelling out, but she didn't think it was Squealer.

A heavy stomp that shook the ground reinforced that hypothesis. From beneath Squealer's truck, Taylor could see tree trunk thick feet, almost like an elephant's, lumber forward with a wide gait. Out from behind the truck was a golem, far taller than any normal man, obviously made of some kind of trash and scrap.

Mush, the third member of the Merchants. Again, Taylor only had a vague idea of what his powers were, but she could guess he was some kind of Changer, turning into this trash golem that probably had a Brute rating. The trash was an amalgamation of filth, from decomposing food and other organic material, to discarded pieces of plastic from containers and toys. What was most worrying however, was that his trashy body was also coated in rusted scrap metal that acted like armor. Two long, tentacle-like arms hung from him, similarly coated by metal trash cans. This was good and bad news. Bad news because she didn't know how strong of a Brute he was. Good, because she no longer needed to hold back.

"Restraints off!" Taylor shouted, pointing at Mush. "Take him down!"

Behind her, Taylor heard Charlie flip his lasgun from stun to kill and began firing bolts of ruby red light at the trashman Mush. The laser beams tore chunks out of Mush, burning and melting the filth on him, eliciting a cry of pain.

"Fucking cunt!" Squealer shouted from on top of her truck. "Cover him you idiots!"

The Merchants still standing popped out from behind the truck and turned their firearms towards Charlie, wildly firing bullets in his direction and forcing him into cover. Some even grabbed bottles of liquid that had rags stuffed into their openings, setting them alight and turning them into molotov cocktails. They threw the improvised incendiaries both at Charlie and at the Manufactorum, splashing the concrete and steel with burning alcohol.

Meanwhile Taylor cursed internally, looking at the ground around her for her lost laspistol so she could contribute. The precious few seconds she was given to search weren't enough however, as Mush took this opportunity to charge her.

With a mighty swing of his arm, Mush's fist was aimed right for Taylor's chest. It was a slow, lumbering punch, and to any well trained fighter it would've been an easy swing to dodge. Unfortunately for Taylor, she'd never had a day of hand to hand combat training in her life, and the previous explosion that rocked her brain slowed her even more.

Mush's fist hit dead center, taking the armored Taylor off her feet and once again sending her to the ground. Taylor groaned on the concrete, her organic body aching while her power armor blared warnings at her to move. Before she could, Mush's foot kicked her side. The hit didn't damage her power armor, but she still felt the impact through it and it still hurt. As she was getting beat down by a literal pile of trash, Taylor had the errant thought of getting some martial arts training from Merrick when this was over. This entire fight was just shoving in her face how much knowledge she still lacked.

As Taylor groaned in pain, Mush came back to follow up on his assault. With work done through her power armor's servos rather than her own muscles, Taylor twisted on the ground so she was on her knees rather than her back. When Mush came into melee distance, Taylor's Servo-Arm shot at him. The hydraulic claw ripped a chunk of trash out of Mush's torso, eliciting another cry of pain from him. Taylor spared a glance at her Servo-Arm, there was blood on it. It looked like she hit something important under that mound of rotted food, degraded plastic, and rusted metal.

Mush backed up, clutching his leaking side, granting Taylor a brief respite. Taylor clambered up, groaning in pain and exhaustion. But she knew that she needed to keep fighting. Stepping forward, Taylor thrust her Servo-Arm forward again, ripping off a tendril of trash off of Mush's right arm. Finally on the offensive Taylor thrust her mechadendrite for the center of Mush's torso, where she assumed his main body was.

Before she could tear apart the trash golem however, a streak of violet-blue light slammed into Taylor. Taylor's eyes followed the beam to its source, where she saw Skidmark had stepped out from behind Squealer's truck and had both hands aimed at her. Whatever strange power Skidmark had physically repelled Taylor, sending her flying backwards and into the brick wall of the Manufactorum.

Once more, Taylor's Dragonscale power armor saved her body from any real damage, but her unarmored head bounced off the brick, further rocking her brain. Taylor could taste the metallic tang of auto-sanguination fluid, pooling in her mouth behind her mask. She swallowed it down as she stumbled forward off the wall. As she did, she felt the warmth pouring down her head start to pool, going down to her respirator and under her armor. Bringing her hand to her head, she found that her head was bleeding even more profusely than before. The dizziness and disorientation she was feeling in addition to this suggested a concussion, possibly even a fracture. Taylor really needed to make a helmet.

While Taylor mused on her unfortunate situation, Mush charged, howling in a mad screech as he thirsted for vengeance. With a tired groan, Taylor once again readied herself for melee combat. Like a football player, Mush moved to tackle Taylor, and she thrust her Servo-Arm forward to try and intercept him.

But Mush moved with a dexterity that belied his massive size as he slipped the clawed Servo-Arm. With his two lumbering arms, Mush then put Taylor into a bearhug with his left arm, crushing her torso with his Brute-like strength. His right arm then wrapped around Servo-Arm, coiling around it like a snake. Taylor tried to pull her Servo-Arm back, but it was stuck as it pulled a tug of war with Mush's trash tendril.

Mush howled and threw all his weight backwards as he yanked at Taylor's Servo-Arm, the mechadendrite creaking and straining under the pressure. The metal began to scream, waiting to see which would win, the Servo-Arm or trash tendril. And unfortunately for Taylor, her Servo-Arm failed first.

With the sound of crunching metal and sparking electricity, Mush tore the Servo-Arm out of Taylor's cybermantle. Taylor screamed. It was a primal, guttural howl as she felt the synthetic nerve-endings attaching her Servo-Arm to her body be severed.

While the pain wasn't comparable to the first time she cut open her own limbs to attach her prosthetics, it was still horrible. The pain took hold of Taylor's mind, leaving her vulnerable for Mush to continue his attack. Mush's right arm then wrapped around Taylor's torso as well, attempting to crush and smother her through her power armor.

Taylor's power armor held strong, but she was just too disoriented to properly fight back. Not only that, while Mush wasn't strong enough to crush her outright, he was strong enough that Taylor was practically immobilized, she herself not strong enough to break free alone. Luckily, she was not alone.

"Fire in the hole!" Taylor heard Sgt. Major Merrick's gruff voice shouted from inside the Manufactorum.

Out of the darkness of the Manufactorum's interior flew a massive laser, larger in diameter than Taylor's own head, and crimson red with the vengeance of the Machine God. Merrick and Daryl had finally finished setting up the prototype lascannon and fired it.

The lascannon shot slammed right into the engine of Squealer's truck, punching through the armor plating protecting it and into the vulnerable machinery underneath.

"FUCK!" Was all Squealer had time to say as her truck exploded with a furious conflagration that could no doubt be heard across the city.

Squealer, who had still been standing atop her truck, was sent flying away by the force of the explosion. Those on foot nearby, primarily Skidmark and more than a few unpowered Merchant grunts, were similarly either blown back by the explosion, or were swallowed in the ensuing fireball.

Taylor's ears were filled with a high pitched ringing that indicated the potential loss of hearing. Once the explosion-caused deafness subsided however, the ring was then joined by the sounds of wailing screams as burning Merchants ran around, some patting themselves in an attempt to put out the fire, while others rolled on the ground to better effect.

The violent explosion seemed to tear Mush's attention away from Taylor, as he turned to face the burning wreck of Squealer's truck, his grip loosening on Taylor. That was all the opportunity Taylor needed.

Ripping her augmented left arm out of the muck that was Mush's body, Taylor flicked her wrist and her in-built plasma cutter extended out. Taylor's plasma tools and weaponry, in comparison to that used by Armsmaster, were crude, unsophisticated designs. Fed by liquid hydrogen cells, the plasma cutter's fusion core would energize the hydrogen into plasma, not unlike the energy producing cycle of a star. Through this process, Taylor was able to create her own plasma cutter which put any on the market plasma cutter to shame.

However, as a result of this extreme temperature and the complexities of nuclear fusion, Taylor's designs for plasma tended to be rather temperamental, with her conceptual prototypes often overheating or destabilizing. The reason she had been able to create her plasma cutter was that, thanks to its in-built safety limiters, as the amount of hydrogen normally used in it was low enough that the chances of destabilization were extremely unlikely.

That being said, as Taylor shoved her plasma cutter into the thickest part of Mush's trash-laden body, her neurotransmitters removed all limiters and overloaded the fusion core manually. Within Taylor's forearm, the power of the Sun began to build within Mush's torso.

Trash and filth burned away, disintegrating under the intense build up of heat as Mush began to scream within. The smell of roasted pork filtered it ways into Taylor's mask as Mush's very own body cooked and burned alongside the tash.

"Wait, wait, wait! I surrender! I surrender!" Mush cried out as the plasma cutter's fusion core reached critical temperature.

Taylor fixed Mush with a flat stare. "Your surrender has been logged." She then detonated the plasma cutter. "And ignored."

With a detonation of blue plasma that swallowed his entire form, Mush ceased to exist. Some chunks of burning refuse and molten metal flew away from the explosion, and when the flash of bright light that rivaled an atomic bomb disappated, all that remained of Mush was a blackened, carbonized skeleton.

Taylor herself didn't walk away without injury. While her Dragonscale power armor kept her from burning alive, the skin above her respirator was red and blistered with burns. Taylor's singed off eyebrows were the least of her worries as she no doubt had several 3rd degree burns spread across her head now. Funnily enough, Taylor didn't feel the pain, meaning her nerve endings were probably damaged.

There was a deafening silence that fell upon the immediate area as the very few as the fury of battle ended. Mush was dead at Taylor's hands, and the Lascannon explosion had either killed or knocked out the rest of the Merchants and their Parahuman leaders. Taylor suddenly felt very tired as her adrenaline dumped, the physiological remains of combat stress working its way through her system.

Part of her, the human part, wanted to just curl up into a ball then and there. But the cold, logical part of her, told her she wasn't done. She glanced back down at Mush's corpse. Or what was left of it. This… was the exact kind of thing Armsmaster had warned her about. A murder charge. Or, even in self defense, it was at the very least probably manslaughter. Same with the deaths of any of the Merchants by Squealer's truck.

Taylor didn't need that kind of attention. Being forced into villainy or vigilantism due to deaths of these worthless gangsters was counterproductive to her goal of saving Brockton Bay. As such, they needed to clean up before the Protectorate arrived.

"Guardsmen, from up!" Taylor shouted as she strode to the ruined front gate of her Manufactorum. Her voice was croaky and strained, but she found the strength to yell nonetheless.

It only took a few moments for Charlie, Merrick, and Daryl to hussle their way to her, standing at attention. They gaped at her, shocked and horrified by her wounds, but she ignored that. Instead, she approvingly nodded at their punctuality.

"Good work on the defense, everyone." Taylor said, meaning every word. She would've died or been captured if it wasn't for their efforts. "But we're not done. Bring all of the Merchants here to me. If they are still alive, restrain them as well."

The guardsmen shared a glance with one another at Taylor's orders.

"Now!" Taylor barked out.

At her authoritative tone, the guardsmen immediately fanned out to comply. After a minute, the Merchants were all gathered up in front of her. Of the unpowered goons, there were 7 dead, and 11 unconscious. Of the Parahumans, only Mush was dead, with Squealer and Skidmark unconscious. Of those two Squealer was far more injured, with a fractured skull and broken back from being flung off her truck.

Taylor then looked at the wreck of Squealer's Tinkertech vehicle. She had no idea it was so close to her Manufactorum till it was too late. Squealer may have been a crass, strung out bimbo, but such a vehicle was impressive. The stealth technology and sonic weaponry were something Taylor didn't have. It would be such a waste if such Tinkertech died with Squealer.

Taylor then looked at the unconscious Merchants. The rabble and filth that polluted her city, poisoning its denizens with narcotics and violence. A drain on society that no one would miss if they were to just disappear.

"Burn the bodies." Taylor ordered, pointing at the dead Merchants. "Ensure naught but ash remains of them."

Taylor then walked over to Squealer and the unconscious Merchants. As she looked them over, and her mind wandered back to the problem she was having with her combat automatons earlier that night, about AI and the lack of a soul. These foul reprobates… they had souls. And they had extraordinarily powerful CPUs within their heads, no matter how rotted their brains had become through drugs. They had what Taylor needed to fill the void of the missing AI.

"These six." Taylor pointed to what looked like the most fit of the Merchants. "And her." Taylor then pointed to Squealer. "Take them to my personal workshop. The rest we shall turn over to the PRT when they arrive."

The guardsmen once more shifted uncomfortably as they looked at one another, until Merrick finally spoke. "What are we going to tell the Protectorate and the police?"

Taylor's one organic eye snapped to him, hard and unyielding. "You shall tell them nothing. I will tell them the truth." Taylor then raised her mechanical leg up and stomped down onto Mush's carbonized skeleton, completely destroying it as it collapsed into black dust in the wind. "That the Merchants attacked my base, we repelled them, capturing Skidmark and destroying Squealer's vehicle, after which Squealer, Mush, and the others all escaped."

The men serving Taylor all had conflicted expressions on their faces. Taylor then sighed and said, "I suppose you all also earned a bonus for your stalwart defense. How does a $10,000 hazard pay for today sound?"

The guardsmen seemed taken aback by Taylor's offer, glancing at one another, before both Charlie and Daryl looked at Merrick, deferring to the Sergeant Major. Taylor could see the emotions warring under Merrick's face as he debated on what to do. And to her satisfaction, he nodded.

"Sounds good to me, boss." Merrick said, his grim face set in stone.

Taylor gave him a slight nod of appreciation. "Then get to work."

With that, the guardsmen moved to follow Taylor's orders, hiding and burning bodies with their lasguns, the weapons more than capable of completely vaporizing the corpses. Meanwhile Taylor collected her lost laspistol and the ruined remains of her Servo-Arm, contently watching her men work as she heard sirens off in the distance rapidly approach.

Chapter Text

Date Unknown…

Consciousness. Her body leaden heavy, Sherrel Bailey groaned as she came to consciousness. Fuck, she had a splitting headache. What the fuck did she take last night? She hasn't had a hangover this bad in years. Sherrel tried to move her hand and rub that crusty shit out of her eyes, but soon found she was unable to. The fuck? Sherrel then tried to turn her head to look at her hand, but found that she couldn't move her neck either. Not that it would've helped, since it was pitch black anyway.

…

No, that wasn't right. Sherrel slowly came to realize that it wasn't that the room she was watch pitch black, it was the she couldn't fucking open her eyes! Sherrel tried to move every part of her body, to flail her arms or kick her legs, to twist her neck or open her mouth, but nothing worked. Next Sherrel tried to scream. To call out to Skids or Mush or to even that freak Trainwreck to help her out, but her vocal cords would not follow her commands. No part of her body responded. What the fuck was going on here!?

"-and that's when they fled?" A voice that Sherrel could barely hear asked. It was a male voice, muted and dull, like she was hearing it through a wall. Or in this case, through the ceiling, as the direction of the voice sounded like it was coming from above her.

"Indeed. Squealer, Mush, and the others fled on foot. I considered giving chase, but given the significant damage done to my body and my Manufactorum already, I decided to wait for aid." A second voice spoke.

It was staticy and mechanical, like it was coming through a radio. It was a distinct voice that Squealer remembered hearing before. And through the haze on her mind, that thick fog of narcotics that she knew ran through her body, she remembered. The Tech-Priest! That crazy fucking Tinker they went to try and capture! The bitch blew up her fucking truck and knocked her out!

"And it's a good thing you did." A third voice spoke. This one was that of a young woman, perhaps even a teenager. "You were not in good shape by the time they called me in, Taylor. A fractured skull, multiple third degree burns, a concussion, Hell I even had to regrow your hair again!"

"Panacea is right." The first voice spoke again. "You are neither a Ward nor an independent hero. Even if you were attacked, you were not under any obligation to chase down the Merchants."

It took Sherrel a little while, but soon enough she recognized the male voice as well. It was a voice that on more than one occasion, had ordered her and Skids to surrender. It was that silver full-body condom Armsmaster! Shit, if Armsmaster and that goody two-shoes Panacea was here, that must mean this place was crawling with heroes. And for the first time, in a long time, Sherrel was glad there were heroes nearby. They could save her from this fucking psycho Tinker that had taken her prisoner.

And so once more Sherriel tried to cry out. To scream to the heroes that she was right below them, that that whore Tech-Priest was lying and she didn't run. But she couldn't. Her body was paralyzed despite the fact she was aware of what was going on around her. At most, she was able to release a small whimper, barely louder than an exhale, that was lost amongst the ambient noise around her.

"Regardless." Tech-Priest continued. "If there is nothing else the Protectorate requires of me, I wish to return to my work. Much of my equipment has been damaged from the fight and requires repair."

Armsmaster immediately responded. "There is one other thing, Tech-Priest. I have spoken to both Director Piggot, as well as representatives from the Mayor's office. After some consideration, as well as outside consultation, they decided to reject your proposal for the ferry."

There was a long and heavy silence before Tech-Priest responded. "What?" She hissed out, her modulated voice unable to contain her shock and anger. "For what reason?"

"If I'm going to be honest, it's mostly that they do not trust you with the lives of civilians, in addition to the fact that they most likely do not wish to be beholden to your technology." Armsmaster flatly said. "Even if your modifications to the ferry are not Tinkertech, your assurances alone are not enough to assuage the fears of the Mayor and city council. As for your cybernetics, while the PRT is not interested at the current moment, I'm sure both they and Protectorate would, at the very least , be open to negotiations should any members of our organizations become crippled and Panacea be unavailable or unable to heal them."

There was another long, awkward pause before Tech-Priest responded. "I see. Well then, with that I must ask that you all leave my Manufactorum. I have a busy night ahead of me and must get to work."

"Wait!" Panacea practically shouted. "Taylor, you have to rest! You still have a concussion, and healing all of those injuries used up a lot of what was left of your body mass. Are you sure you don't want to have someone take you home? Or at least stay with you in case you get attacked again?"

"I will be fine." Tech-Priest immediately said. "The Autosanguination fluid will help with the concussion. You yourself have said I do not have any other brain damage beyond that. And to your last point, my Guardsmen will be staying to provide security."

"Yeah but-"

"Good night, Panacea, Armsmaster. Hopefully next we meet, I will not require a police report or skin grafting." Tech-Priest succinctly said, cutting off the healer.

"Come on, Panacea, we should go. Your sister seems anxious to return home as well." Huh, apparently that retard Armsmaster had enough social grace to when to pull out.

Sherrel could then hear the disappointment in Panacea's voice as she sighed and said, "Alright. If anything goes wrong Taylor, and I mean anything, just give me a call and I'll be right over. Please." Huh, lil' miss white mage was laying it on pretty thick there. Sherrel didn't know she was a rug muncher. Learn something new every day.

Sherrel didn't hear Tech-Priest respond, but she did hear the clangs of heavy footsteps as Armsmaster and Panacea presumably left Tech-Priest's factory. She then heard metallic clanks of a differing timbre as Tech-Priest was most likely descending a staircase into whatever room Sherrel was currently being held in. There was the sound of a large, metallic door opening and then slamming shut.

Straining her ears, Sherrel could hear Tech-Priest's metallic footsteps as she paced nearby. She could feel the tension in the air rising as Tech-Priest was no doubt mulling over rejection she just received.

"Fools!" Tech-Priest howled, shouting at the top of her lungs as she no doubt believed she was alone. "Idiots! I offer them a way to salvage the economy of this dying city and they throw it back in my face! I was mistaken to put any kind of faith in those gutless worms who run the city!"

In a fit of rage, Tech-Priest then threw her power armored fist forward, slamming it into the steel wall around them. The cacophonous impact echoed through the room, stabbing into Sherrel's ears with the sound not unlike crashing cars. It was loud enough that Squealer couldn't help but wince. Her body still frozen, Sherrel couldn't actually move, but what she did do was let out the tiniest squeal. A cry barely audible even to herself.

But apparently, it was loud enough for Tech-Priest to hear, as Sherrel heard her spin in place, her metallic legs grinding on the floor as her captor faced her. Sherrel froze, more than she already was. She could not see but could feel Tech-Priests eyes upon her, boring into her. Sherrel held her breath as the silence in the room dragged onto uncomfortable lengths, praying that Tech-Priest would lose interest in her.

It would not be so, as soon enough the Tech-Priest approached Sherrel, each heavy, booming footfall reverberating into her very core, counting down to her inevitable doom. Tech-Priest stopped only inches away from her, and the super villain could feel the heat radiating off of the rogue's body and power armor.

"Are you awake, Squealer?" Tech-Priest hissed out, almost whispering into Sherrel's ear.

Sherrel didn't, or more aptly couldn't answer. If she could she would have responded with some entertainingly clever series of curses and insults, probably using words like cyborg-cunt and mechabitch.

At her silence, Tech-Priest moved away from Sherrel, and began typing away at a nearby computer. After a few seconds of clicking keys, Tech-Priest said, "Hmm, elevated heart rate and increased brain function. You are awake, aren't you, Squealer?"

The gig now up, Sherrel did her best to respond, which was a quiet, mewling breath.

"Hmm, I wonder why you have awoken." Tech-Priest continued, and Sherrel could feel her gaze all over her body. After some time both observing Sherrel and going back to the computer, Tech-Priest finally came to a conclusion. "Ah! I see my mistake. I did not properly take into account your lifetime of drug use creating a resistance to the anesthesia. Apologies, Squealer. I'll be sure to adjust for you and the others. We don't want you awake during your operation, after all."

The fuck? Operation? Oh Hell no this crazy fucking bitch was planning on turning her into some kind of cyborg freak? Fuck that noise! Once more Sherrel tried to move every, or rather any body part, to get some kind of response so she could fight back and get away from this psychotic monster. She tried to scream and curse a flood of obscenities at her captor. But at most, all Sherrel could do was perform the smallest of twitches and muted cries. It was like she was a helpless fucking baby.

"Shhhh." Taylor cooed, cupping Sherrel's cheek with her armored hand. "Don't worry. It will soon be over, you won't feel a thing, I promise. And when I'm done, when your ascension is done, you will fall to your knees and thank me for the blessing I have bestowed upon you."

Sherrel continued to try to scream as her anger soon gave way to fear. In her mind she screamed for someone, anyone, to help her. She cried out to Skidmark, Armsmaster, and even Scion himself to get his golden naked ass in there and blast away this insane bitch. But it was to no avail. Sherrel had no mouth from which she could scream. Trapped in a prison of her own flesh, Sherrel Bailey could do nothing but silently weep as she felt the ether embrace her.

Tuesday, February 22nd.

Taylor speedily clacked away at her keyboard, rapidly adding in new lines of code with her newly rebuilt cybernetic left hand.

Glancing to the operating table to her right, Taylor looked at the unconscious body of Squealer. The older tinker was laid out on the table, her body nude as the floor mounted servo-arm finished up sewing the incisions across her flesh. Two long sutures ran up Squealer's abdomen, with a tube that extended out from a synthetic liver on her right side and into an external filter. The organ damage within Squealer from her life of drug addiction was extensive, and Taylor decided to just replace most of them, namely her kidneys and liver.

Taylor had also taken the liberty of removing both of Squealer's legs and arms with new, cybernetic replacements ready for combat. And finally, a metallic cyber-mantle ran up the spine of Squealer's back and into the back of her head, where it interfaced with the cranial circuitry and cortex implants Taylor put inside of her head.

For two days, Taylor had worked tirelessly, eschewing any sleep and only taking meals in the form of IV drips and stimulant shots, as she laboured to complete her work. Much work was needed to complete the integration of the newest members of the Manufactorum. First she had to fabricate a plethora of cybernetic limbs, arms and legs to to replace feeble, weakened meat of her newest members. But that alone was far from enough.

The Merchant stock from which her newest neophytes were drawn from were far from the picture of healthy organics. Malnutrition from poor diets, organ damage from prolonged drug use, injuries from previous fights, every single one of these Merchants had a series of medical ailments which prevented them from becoming what Taylor needed them to be. To deal with this, Taylor had two solutions.

First, using her cranial augmentations Taylor downloaded a full undergraduate pre-med and medical school graduate degree program into her mind. While Taylor's Trigger had given her an intuitive knowledge of human biology and how to modify it, a more proper, classical education was required to fill in the gaps not provided by her powers. Her newfound education allowed her to more properly understand medical specializations from virology and pharmacology to oncology and radiology, all of which she could then apply to her operations.

Second, when Amy had returned to the Manufactorum the night Taylor was attacked, Armsmaster had lent Taylor some of his tech to scan and study Amy's powers in order to develop blueprints for new Tinkertech. When that research was combined with Taylor's new encyclopedic knowledge of medicine, it allowed Taylor to create two new pieces of biomedical Tinkertech, the Diagnostor and De-Tox.

The Diagnostor, as the name implied, pretty much did what Amy could do with a touch of her fingers, diagnose any disease or medical ailment known to man in seconds. A single scan was all she needed to know that Squealer had liver cirrhosis, neurological damage from drug use, two STDs, and high blood pressure. And that was before the burnt skin, bruised tissue, and broken bones she sustained due to the explosion of her truck. With this knowledge, Taylor specifically created a cybernetic liver replacement, and several cranial implants to repair the brain damage, while the Autosanguination fluid should clear out the STDs and hypertension. More difficult to cure however, would be the various substances and addictions which plagued Squealer.

That was where De-Tox and the neural implants came in. Through her own research and discussions with Amy, Taylor learned that addiction was a complex, neurobiological disorder of the brain's reward system due to over exposure to addictive stimuli over time. And while Amy could clear out the physical effects and withdrawal of drug dependence, she couldn't fix the psychological effects of addiction. Just because she could make them no longer dependent on drugs, she couldn't force patients to rehabilitate unless they chose to go through therapy and treatment.

Taylor had no such limitations. De-Tox, as creatively named as the Diagnostor, was an injection of a chemical compound Taylor concocted which would negate the effects of most drugs and toxins within an individual. The De-Tox would target the foreign drugs and chemical agents within the body and purge them from the body. The way the drug purged the body was somewhat unpleasant however, as it forced the drugs out of the body using existing bodily fluids and orifices.

Nose bleeds, vomit, urination, and voiding of the bowels were all common in the subjects exposed to De-Tox as the body used these vectors to purge itself clean. And while the Merchant's bodies were now clean, for a while Taylor's workshop was less so. Luckily for her, her respirator blocked out most of the smell when she mopped up.

And with the physical ailments of any drugs currently within the system gone, a liberal use of Autosanguination fluid and cyberization of the brain would deal with the dependencies and addictions. After all, none of the Merchants could be addicted to anything when Taylor had full control over their brain's neurochemical transmissions.

That was probably the most important part of Taylor's operation onto Squealer and the others, the cortex implants and what they would allow Taylor to do. After all, what use was it putting all of this time and effort into blessing Squealer and the Merchants with the gifts of the Machine God if they were just going to walk away from her and return to their worthless lives of wanton hedonism and debauchery? No. Taylor would ensure that their second lives as part of her organization would have actual value.

Taylor pressed the Enter key on her keyboard, and with that finished the program that would capstone this procedure. Taking a thick cable which led to a 6 inch long metallic plug which Taylor called a dataspike, Taylor inserted it directly into the base of Squealer's neck and into her cortex implant.

The dataspike now giving Taylor full access to not only Squealer's hardware, but her very thoughts and memories in the form of electronic 0s and 1s, Taylor began the psycho-indoctrination process. Through what was essentially organic file editing, memories of who Squealer once was were purged from her mind, useless data that would only cause a conflict of loyalty in her. In their place, Taylor placed new memories.

The memories implanted would ensure that Squealer would whole-heartidly believe in her newfound loyalty to Taylor, and more importantly, loyalty to the Machine God. With this, Squealer would be physically unable to go against Taylor's orders, nor would she be able to recall any of her past. Finally, should the need arise, Taylor also installed a new series of devices she created which she called a Data Tether and a Mind Impulse Unit (MIU) within the cortex implants.

Using the Data Tether, so long as Taylor was in range, she would have access to all of Squealer's thoughts, emotions, and senses. Everything Squealer would see, hear, and even feel, so would Taylor. In addition to this Taylor could use the data tether to communicate directly with Squealer's mind through electronic messages. And if the need ever arose, Taylor could use the Mind Impulse Unit to completely enslave Squealer's body to her own will. Taylor would be able to possess Squealer's body directly, puppeting it through electronic strings of data and coded impulses.

All in all, Squealer was now perfect. Now she could fulfill her role as a Tinker and a fellow adept of the Machine God.

With her augmentation of Squealer finished, Taylor moved onto the rest of the Merchants. Because Taylor did not have more than one operating table, the Merchants were all laid out in a neat row on the workshop's floor or cots the Guardsmen purchased, each kept unconscious through the use of drugs and kept alive with Auto-Sanguination IVs. These degenerate parasites on humanity owed her blood, and she was keen to collect. Like Squealer, Taylor had replaced all of the limbs of the Merchants with cybernetic combat prosthetics, but that was not all Taylor had done. When Taylor realized that she could use the brains and minds of the Merchants as a pseudo-AI, she immediately began to draw up plans to turn them into a new kind of cyber-infantry. A human combat drone, one could say.

These would be different to her Guardsmen, who she actually trusted and allowed them their full faculties. The Merchants, like Squealer, had much of their brains replaced with complex cranial circuitry which would repair the damage drugs had done to their minds, and again like Squealer, give Taylor complete access to their minds through remote data-tethers. When they are all active, Taylor will be able to see through each of their eyes at once, her own cranial circuitry giving her a Parahuman level of multi-tasking capability to allow her to process all of this data, give orders, or even puppet one of these cyborg soldiers all while performing her own tasks with her actual body.

With all of those augmentations installed, Taylor then put each of her new six soldiers through the psycho-indoctrination procedure as well, ensuring their loyalty to her and the Machine God. While the thought to just simply wipe their minds clean of all higher level thinking and replacing it with basic combat programming had occurred to her, she elected to not go that route. At least not yet.

While they could no doubt make for acceptable combat servitors, Taylor desired more from them. And their attack on her base showed that despite being dregs, they had some worth as combatants. While they would no longer need their memories, Taylor wanted them to keep their creativity, ingenuity, and even baseline intelligence. All of these would make them better soldiers, better tools to protect her and destroy her enemies. She could maintain all of these in her soldiers while limiting them in other ways.

After all, the human mind was her plaything, and some remote part of her found it amusing that Amy's power limited her from affecting the brain. The human brain itself was simple to work with, and manipulating the mind was as easy as blocking certain receptors and connecting them to techno-organic interfaces.

Regardless, the Mind Impulse Unit she installed into Squealer was similarly installed into the rest of the Merchants, allowing her to take control of each of the Merchants remotely if necessary, but even more so than in comparison to the Tinker. Unlike with Squealer, the MIUs within the Merchants also allowed for more subtle control, such as emotional manipulation. If Taylor needed to, she could completely eliminate the Merchant's ability to feel fear or empathy, turning them into emotionless automata. Or she could flood their body with adrenaline, turning them into savage warriors whose berserking rage is refined through a machine efficiency.

And lastly, as part of the Psycho-Indoctrination, Taylor implanted a series of combat protocoles and subroutines into not only their minds, but her own as well. This was something Taylor found necessary to build after her fight with the Merchants. She learned that she did not truly know how to fight. And no matter how many weapons or how strong the steel of her body became, they would all be useless if she didn't know how to actually use them.

These programs would make micro-adjustments to the user's physical actions, such as increasing reflexes when defending against blows, or artificially steadying aim on targets with inhuman accuracy. This, combined with a comprehensive set of hand to hand and weapons training simulations she developed with the aid of Sergeant Major Merrick would increase their combat potential greatly. Of course it would be no substitution for true combat and experience, but it was a start.

With this, the half dozen Merchants before her were almost ready to become her newest breed of warriors. She probably shouldn't keep calling them Merchants though. That name was now behind them, alongside everything else about their past lives. She could call them Guardsmen as well, but these soldiers were so divergent that Taylor believed they should be classified as a different unit in general.

No, her Guardsmen were her protectors in the day. The ones who met with other heroes and civilians, showing off all of the positive aspects of her powers. After all, who could say that repairing the wounds of American Veterans and giving them jobs was a bad thing?

But these Merchants. While Taylor didn't want to believe it, she could see how others might see them as unsettling. They couldn't see the beauty in the improvements that Taylor gave to these men. They wouldn't see the fact that Taylor made them faster, stronger, even smarter, and set them to the task of saving the city. No, they would only see the butchered bodies of weak, decayed flesh, not the strong steel enhancements.

They would be the first of her legion of steel. Her… Legiones Skitarii. Yes, she liked that name. These Skitarii would be Taylor's protectors in the shadows, hunting anyone who would deem themselves Taylor's enemy away from the public eyes, and the eyes of the law.

Taylor then turned her eye back to Squealer. She would need a new name as well. They all would. And as Taylor looked upon her fellow Tinker, she felt the Machine God gift her the name which she would bestow upon Squealer.

One does not typically remember their birth. For most people, the mind is not developed enough to retain the memories of the sudden overstimulation of senses as they are removed from the womb. This was not the case for the woman.

She felt a warm, pulsating sensation move through her body, which strangely enough felt differently when it moved through certain parts. Her arms and legs, limbs she knew they were called. She knew a lot of things, like how the Planck equation was E = hf, or how to use an arc welder to fuse two sheets of metal together. She also knew that her eyes were closed.

Through a concerted effort that she knew was more difficult than it should have been, the woman's eyelids slowly peeled themselves open. First there was a sterile, blinding light. She suddenly blinked back, recoiling as the photons struck her eyes. But quickly her eyes adjusted, pupils contracting as they adjusted to her surroundings.

A quick glance around confirmed that she had no idea where she was. She was in some kind of sealed room with a cylindrical ceiling above that she could tell was made of some kind of steel composite, possibly containing lead. Directly above her face was a surgical light held aloft by some kind of jointed, robotic arm.

"Greetings, my fellow acolyte of the Machine God." A synthetic voice said beside her.

She turned her head, a motion that was agonizingly slow as her body was still sluggish, and saw a woman standing beside her. The observer looked young, but it was hard to tell because her face was hidden behind some kind of mask. She had long, curly black hair, and wore a set of blood red robes. Most striking of all though, was the crimson, baleful light that emitted from her left eye.

"We must run you through your diagnostics. Raise your left hand and make a fist." The hooded woman commanded.

Without hesitation, the woman looked down to do so. When she did, she realized two things. First was that she was naked atop whatever bed or table she was currently lying on. Second and more importantly, was that all of her limbs were made of metal. Some part of her brain could tell they were cybernetic constructs, picking apart pieces of what made them up, but she couldn't understand all of it. A part of her could tell that something was strange about this, but she didn't know what. As she contemplated all of this, she fulfilled her order, and raised her left hand before making a fist.

"Very good." The hooded woman nodded. She then held up one mechanical finger. "Now then, follow my finger." She moved her hand in a circular motion that made the woman look all around, up down, then left right. "Good work. Any issues?"

The woman shook her head.

"As expected." the hooded woman said happily. Then she held out her hand to help the woman up.

The woman grabbed onto the proffered hand and pulled herself up so she was sitting on the operating table. The hooded woman then went to a metallic drawer and pulled out a similar-looking red robe to give to her. The woman took it and gratefully put it on. Not out of shame, for such base emotion no longer registered to her, but simply because she was cold.

"Thank you." The woman said finally, her voice was hoarse and dry.

"You are welcome." The hooded woman said as she then got a bottle of water. "And you may call me Taylor."

The woman took the water and greedily drank it. While she did so, Taylor asked, "You have been asleep for some time now. How much do you remember? About yourself, I mean?"

The woman took a moment to try and recall something about herself. But for some reason, she couldn't think of anything, like there was a wall blocking any attempt. After a few moments, she shook her head and said, "I'm sorry, but I don't remember anything. I mean, I remember some things. Equations. Designs. But that's it. I don't remember anything about myself. Not my name, my family, or even what I look like." While the woman didn't exactly feel sad about this, she did logically understand that her current state was not normal.

"Good." Taylor flatly said. The woman tilted her head at Taylor, confused as to why her obviously imperfect state was good. At her look, Taylor continued, "I specifically chose to remove your memories. Who you were in your past life was someone best forgotten. You lived a life of sin and heresy, squandering your Machine God given gifts, but no more."

The woman frowned. This time she did register sadness, but mostly due to regret that she had been such a terrible person. "Then who am I now?" she asked, looking up at Taylor.

Taylor crossed her arms. "Hmm, yes you will require a new name. In fact, now that I realize it I actually didn't know what your name was before I erased your memories." She shrugged. "No matter. You are a new person and thus require a new name. How does… Felecia sound? Felecia Tayber?" Taylor then shook her head. "No, the last name is too close to my name. How about… Arkhan Land? No, too masculine." Then Taylor's head popped up as she had an epiphany. "Arcana! You are now Arcana Land. What do you think of that?"

The newly named Arcana Land had literally no reference to go off of to base an opinion on the name, so she only nodded. "I like it."

The crinkling of Taylor's eyes implied that she was smiling beneath her mask. "Very good. Though that will be the name we use in private only. When you wear a mask like my own." Taylor pointed to her respirator, "You will need a proper pseudonym to go by."

Arcana did not really understand the point of that, but nodded nonetheless. "What name will that be?"

Her grin growing even larger, Taylor moved directly in front of Arcana's face and put both her hands on her shoulders. "You, Arcana, are to be my Enginseer." Taylor's mechanical hands then moved up and gripped Arcana's face, squeezing the flesh underneath until it hurt. "You see, I require machines of war. Something that my own powers cannot provide, but yours can! Tell me, Enginseer. What can you make for me!? What can you make for the Omnissiah!?"

Through the pain of Taylor's grip, Arcana began to experience visions. Flashes of the glories she could create. She saw massive APCs made with ungodly thick slabs of armor, spewing fire and laser beams against all who opposed it. She saw tanks the size of entire city blocks, with mega battle cannons striking at targets kilometres away. Finally, she saw this so-called Machine God made manifest. Titanic God-engines the size mountains which could end empires with their weapons.

"I see it." Arcana muttered through blubbering lips, tears starting to pour down her face. "I see the Omnissiah's glory!"

Taylor then let go of the crying, shivering woman's face and embraced her into a hug. "Yes!" Taylor cried out in a raptourous moan. "And together, we shall make his glory a reality!"

Chapter Text

Wednesday, February 23rd…

Taylor sat in her office on the Manufactorum's second floor as she read through the various purchasing requests and invoices piled on her desk. Although it was less reading, and more digitally scanning with her cybernetic eye and downloading the information directly into her brain. While the fallout shelter beneath Manufactorum had become Taylor's hub of tinkering and research, the old factory manager's office which overlooked the workfloor had become the center of Taylor's financial and business work. It had also become a place that Taylor dreaded.

With the last purchases she made in order to complete her first Skitarii cohort, Taylor was officially in the red. And with Taylor's latest money making scheme, the ferry, now sunk, she needed a new way to get some income. Otherwise, she would not be able to maintain her operating costs of the Manufactorum in the next month, let alone pay her Guardsmen or maintain her personal equipment. Hell she hadn't even gotten to enhancing her family home with TinkerTech defenses yet. All in all, things were looking desperate, and Taylor was starting to consider equally desperate measures.

Perhaps Taylor could have her Guardsmen begin patrolling the nearby streets. That way, she could collect a fee for protective services from the locals. Her Guardsmen would be a far better deterrent than any would-be gangbanger or beat street cop.

Or maybe she could send her skitarii on a raid. There were many facilities owned by local gangs which could be attacked for supplies. Hmm, perhaps she could go after old Merchant hideouts and supply caches. They would have a surplus of chemicals, weapons, and cash that were no longer being used.

A knock on the door interrupted her train of thought.

"Enter." Taylor buzzed out.

Opening the rickety wooden door, Sergeant Major Merrick entered the office. His face stern and unreadable, he snapped off a salute and said, "Ma'am. You have an uninvited guest waiting for you at the front gate."

Taylor looked Sergeant Merrick up and down. Ever since the attack on the Manufactorum a few days ago, Merrick's demeanor around Taylor had changed. He no longer offered her almost Uncle-ly smiles or called her 'girly' or 'boss.' Now, it was always 'Ma'am,' combined with hardened faces and lack of eye contact.

Taylor's social interaction suite told her there was a 74% likelihood that Merrick was now afraid of her. This was further corroborated by Taylor's own memories of her previous life, where she could compare Merrick's behavior to that of her fellow student bystanders whenever Sophia or Emma assaulted her.

But this number was acceptable, as the same suite told her that it was unlikely that Sergeant Merrick or the other Guardsmen would betray her. Loyalty and obedience was beaten into them by the US military, and combined with the fact that Taylor maintained their cybernetics, meant that they were squarely under her command.

Taking her mind off her Guardsmen, Taylor then thought upon his news.

"Is this unannounced visitor friendly, or shall I have the others retrieve the Lascannon?" Taylor said, her inflection betraying no emotion.

Merrick shifted uncomfortably. "He approached the front door in plain view, and acquiesced to a security check. He's been cooperative thus far, but has informed us that he is an employee of the villain known as Coil, and that he wishes to speak with you."

Taylor raised a brow. "And you didn't just shoot him?"

"Ma'am he did not present any immediate threat, thus we had no justification to do so. So I decided to bring this up to you and see what you decide." Merrick reported, his voice unwavering.

Taking another moment to regard her subordinate, Taylor nodded her head. "Curious indeed. I will speak with him. But do be sure to use the auspex I gave you to search for any Tinkertech on him. I'd prefer not giving Coil any information on this place that he doesn't need to know."

"Ma'am." Merrick curtly replied as he saluted once more and left Taylor's office.

Five minutes and three removed Tinkertech bugs later, a sharp dressed man entered Taylor's office. He was tall, with blonde hair, and a long face that almost looked stretched out. Taylor noted he had excellent posture, walked with an air of professionalism, and by the way his eyes scanned the room, was definitely ex-military.

"Greetings, Tech-Priest. Thank you for seeing me, and by extension opening dialogue with my employer, Coil. You can call me Minor." the man said, standing politely in front of Taylor. He had no weapons on him that Taylor could see, and the only EM waves coming off him were from what was most likely his cellphone.

"An interesting name." Taylor said slowly. "I doubt your parents gave it to you."

Minor's face remained neutral. "I doubt your parents named you Tech-Priest either, Ma'am."

Taylor let out a small snort. "I suppose not. Sit." Minor did as he was commanded before Taylor continued. "You are rather forthright with your criminal connection. Tell me, what does Coil want with me that he would send one of his lackeys to my front door?"

"He only wishes to talk." Minor immediately answered. Taylor's flat stare was more than enough of an answer for Minor. "That is all the information he gave me. If you want to know more, you'll have to speak with him." Minor's voice carried no inflection that said he was lying. It was a practiced neutral tone that made him hard to read.

Out of curiosity more than anything, Taylor sighed and said, "Fine. I will speak with him." She then held out her hand.

Without waiting a beat, Minor reached into his jacket, pulled out a cellphone, and placed it into Taylor's hands. In an instant, Taylor's power and her enhanced intelligence began analyzing and scanning the phone. It wasn't Tinkertech, but did contain military grade encryption. It rang almost immediately.

Taylor answered it and put it to her ear. "Coil." She said, getting the first word in.

"Tech-Priest." Coil said. His voice was smooth, no doubt practiced and rehearsed for talks and negotiations. "Thank you for accepting my call."

"I would say the pleasure is mine, but it is not." Taylor curtly responded. "My last interaction with the villains of this city was less than cordial, so I am rather short on patience. What do you want?"

"Of course, my apologies Tech-Priest." Coil immediately said. "And you have my sympathy for the attack on you and your people. The Merchants were a blight on this city, and gave a bad name to all Capes, not just the villains."

Taylor pursed her lips behind her mask. "You mean the still are a blight on this city. Squealer and Mush escaped following the fight."

"Yes they did. But as much of a degenerate Skidmark was, he was something of a competent leader." Coil countered. "Neither Squealer nor Mush have what it takes to control the gang with Skidmark in custody, and the fact we haven't seen hide nor hair of either of them since reinforces that point." Taylor was silent as Coil continued. "Not to mention my agents in the city have said that the Merchants are splintering into smaller gangs. It's my opinion that Squealer and Mush are now either leading one of these smaller gangs, or have fled the city entirely."

"A reasonable analysis." Taylor conceded, making her response as neutral as possible. "But again, I am not interested in speaking of current events with you. I want to know what you want with me."

"Indeed. I will be brief." Coil took a beat to clear his throat. "I want to extend an offer of employment to you, Tech-Priest."

"Rejected." Taylor almost hung the phone up then and there.

"Two million dollars." Coil said without hesitation.

Much to Taylor's dissatisfaction, her thumb stopped above the disconnect button. Knowing that she was going to regret this, Taylor sighed and said, "Go on."

Taylor could hear the grin across the phone as Coil continued speaking. "Whether you have realized it or not, Tech-Priest, your defeat of the Merchants has solidified your place as a power in the city. This means you are now a target for the E88 and the ABB."

And your organization, Taylor didn't say aloud. "I have defenses for such scenarios. Not to mention I have no desire to get into conflict with them. I am a neutral Rogue."

"A neutral Rogue who has already defeated a villain gang, albeit a minor one, and has made several attempts to sell her technology to the PRT and Protectorate." Coil countered. Taylor opened her mouth to speak but Coil cut her off. "And I have sources within the PRT which have informed me of such. I'm sure the E88 and ABB have insiders as well, and are just as well informed as I am. But regardless, whether you want to admit it or not, you are now a threat to the villains of this city."

"Am I not a threat to you?" Taylor had to ask.

"I would most certainly hope not." Coil replied, his irritatingly smooth voice making it sound like he was talking down on her. "While some may say my methods are too extreme, and yes I break the law in order to achieve my goals, everything I do, I do for the sake of making Brockton Bay a better place. And I would like your help doing that."

This… was not what Taylor was expecting from Coil. "If you want to make Brockton Bay a better place, then why do you not work with the PRT or Protectorate? I'm sure a man of your power and wealth could make waves in the city."

"Indeed I could. But you know just as well as I do how mired in bureaucracy and red tape the PRT is. They are not saving this city, just slowing down its death. They would reject people like you and I because they fear what we can do, and are unwilling to do what we would in order to achieve our goals."

Taylor grit her teeth in frustration. By the Machine God, she was agreeing with a villain. "I do not want to jeopardize my position with the PRT and give them a reason to go after me." Taylor hastily countered.

She could imagine Coil shrugging as he nonchalantly said. "Then do not tell them. Although it's not as if the PRT has given you anything other than a pittance of a monthly stipend, given how much of your technology they've thus far rejected. It is a shame though, I would've rather liked to have taken the ferry."

"I'm sure you would've." Taylor hissed, her anger slipping out.

"Unlike the PRT, I have far less compunctions against adopting your technology." Coil pushed. "And I am willing to offer a large amount of money and resources in order to gain it."

Taylor didn't immediately respond. Even without her enhanced intelligence, she knew a Faustian pact when she saw one. If it ever got out that Taylor worked with Coil, the damage done to her reputation would be irreparable, if she wasn't outright arrested. That was something Coil could use to blackmail her with.

But at the same time, Coil was right. The PRT and Protectorate had barely done anything for her. All they've done is constantly reject her and her proposals. The only ones who've accepted any of her tech have been Armsmaster and Kid Win, but apparently they alone weren't enough to influence the PRT to purchase her Tinkertech. Coil, meanwhile, could give her money, and lots of it.

If anything perhaps Taylor could sell to both sides. Arm Coil's men with Tinkertech weapons, raising the danger-level of his organization, prompting the PRT to purchase Tinkertech in return. Taylor almost snorted. Never in her life did she think she'd become a war profiteer. A small part of her wondered what her mom would think of her.

"I will admit Coil, I am intrigued." Taylor said, meaning it. "But I cannot make any deals. I will require some time to think this over." And some time to increase my defenses should you attack, she didn't say outloud.

"Fair enough." Coil said pleasantly. "How does one week sound?"

Taylor nodded her head. "It will do."

"Good. I will send Minor back to you in one weeks time. Goodbye Tech-Priest, I hope to hear good things from you." Coil then hung up.

Pulling the phone away from her ear, Taylor handed it back to Minor. "That will be all." she said, clipped, "Now please leave. I have work that must be done."

Unlike his long-winded boss, Minor gave a curt nod and immediately left, Taylor watching him leave through her security cameras. When Minor had driven off, Taylor stood and immediately began making her way to her personal workshop, the Guardsmen protecting the Manufactorum's main entrance sharply saluted as she passed.

Taylor ignored them as she moved to her underground lair. Opening the fallout sheter's door, Taylor entered her workshop, where she was greeted by the site of her novitiate acolyte, Arcana Land, who was currently working on maintenance of the skitarii. Arcana sat at Taylor's own workbench, fiddling with a rifle, as the rest of the skitarii stood at attention alongside the nearby walls of the workshop.

Like Taylor, Arcana and the skitarii were all dressed in red robes, signifying their allegiance to her. Arcana's robes were similar to Taylor's, a simple full body tunic that could be worn over power armor that needed to still be built. Unlike Taylor, she didn't wear a respirator, but instead had a pair of circular goggles which had multiple functions, such as acting as an auspex to being a pair of welding goggles.

Meanwhile, the Skitarii's appearance were similar to both Capes, but distinct enough to show their differing status. Unlike Taylor, the skitarii were not armored with power armor. Taylor had run the numbers, and maintaining an army of power armor wearing cyborgs was far out of her budget. Instead, they wore slabs of metal armor similar to that of the Guardsmen's flak armor, which Taylor had designed to be more resistant to damage and more comfortable to wear for long periods of time. This was her first iteration of what she was calling the skitarii war plate, and she was sure she could improve it further as time went on. The skitarii then wore hooded red overcoats over their war plate, and covered their faces with respirator-auspex hybrid masks whose circular lenses pulsated with blue energy.

Arcana was in the middle of putting the finishing touches on their weapons, a set of long, slender wooden guns that almost looked like flintlock rifles with a series of steampunk-esque attachments, such as a revolver cylinder on its bottom. Right now however, the weapons, which Taylor dubbed galvanic rifles, were little more than overly specialized semi-automatic rifles. Taylor was in the process of developing specialized Tinkertech bullets for them, but she wasn't sure what they'd do yet. Taylor was thinking of making them explode somehow.

"Taylor." Arcana greeted, bowing her head slightly as she stood from her workbench. Unlike Taylor, Arcana's voice was still fully human. In fact, Taylor would say her high pitched voice was almost melodic.

"Arcana." Taylor returned with a rather gentle voice. "How goes the arming of my skitarii?"

Stepping to the side, Arcana showed off her work. "Very well, if I must say so myself. The last of the cohort has been equipped with their war plate, and their galvanic rifles are fully assembled. Per your mission parameters, I have also developed a prototype non-lethal weapon that they could potentially use."

Arcana then turned around and retrieved what looked like a Tinkertech baton, at the end of which were two glowing prongs. It wasn't hard to guess the weapon's function, and when Arcana depressed the trigger on the handle, lightning crackled between its tips.

"A cattle prod." Taylor simply said.

Arcana however, seemed insulted by the comparison. "A cattle prod? Please, that would be like comparing your Lasguns to flashlights. This is a Taser Goad. A single hit would be enough to knock a grown man unconscious in an instant."

"My apologies." Taylor said, meaning it. "It is impressive. So is the fact that you've done all this work so quickly." Arcana preened slightly under Taylor's words. "And tonight will be the perfect opportunity to test both your taser goad and the skitarii, because I have a mission for them."

Whatever good mood Arcana was developing instantly vanished at Taylor's announcement. "What!? But Taylor, we haven't put any of the skitarii through any real combat training yet. They've done the simulations but-"

"The simulations will have to be enough." Taylor cut off Arcana with a pointed look. "We have attracted the attention of Coil, which means the other gangs are most likely on to us as well. These six…" Taylor turned her attention to the skitarii she had created. "They are good. But they are just a start. We need more."

"What about the Guardsmen?" Arcana asked.

Taylor nodded her head. "I've already been working with Merrick to expand their numbers as well. He has recruited more Dock Workers, ones that do not need augmentation but wish to fight against the gangs. But I see no reason not to expand both groups. Redundancy is next to holiness after all."

"A fair point." Arcana conceded. "Well then, the skitarii merely await your order, Tech-Priest."

"Very good. Skitarii Alpha, step forward." Taylor commanded.

At her words, the largest of the skitarii walked forward. Of the Merchants Taylor had recruited from, the Alpha was both the physically largest and in the best health. That, factored in what appeared to be a higher aptitude for combat and tactics learned in street level gang warfare, made him the logical choice to be the leader of her nascent kill team.

"Your new designation is 01-Ryza, the Alpha of Ranger Squad Ryza." Taylor told him.

"Designation accepted." 01-Ryza said in a deep, booming voice made more ominous through the static vox it was emitted through. "What mission do you have for us?"

"Simple, 01. You are going hunting." When Taylor said these words, the masked face of 01-Ryza looked at Taylor, and through her data tethers, Taylor could sense his elation and excitement. "Using what data I have gathered from your previous memories, combined with data I have been able to gather from police servers and online, I have found several locations of what are most likely Merchant bases.

"You are to take your squad into the former Merchant territory and search for resources and potential recruits. Capture these recruits, and return to the Manufactorum with them before dawn for reprogramming. Stealth is paramount, but you may reveal yourselves and fight should the situation require it. Do I make myself clear?"

01-Ryza bowed his head, which looked like he was looking down on Taylor. "Yes, Tech-Priest."

Nodding, Taylor said, "Good. And remember, I am always watching."

Without another word, 01-Ryza turned around and grasped his weapon, the taser goad. The rest of Ryza Squad soon activated and followed suit, grabbing their own weapons. They would wait till nightfall before beginning operations, and once they were unleashed, Taylor had full faith in their capabilities to complete the mission.

Taylor had designed these skitarii, the classification of which dubbed Rangers, to be the perfect combination of foot soldiers and hunters. Their prosthetics and neural enhancements were all designed with both combat and stealth in mind, a utilitarian approach which made them suitable to nearly every mission possible. With legs made of steel and power generators built into their bodies, Taylor created tireless hunters who did not need to eat, sleep, or even rest, soldiers who would always complete their objectives, no matter how long it took.

With luck, her skitarii would clear out a den or two of Merchant holdouts. Taylor hoped for a full maniple of skitarii to supplement a platoon's worth of Guardsmen before she reached her decision on how to handle Coil.

Vicky sighed as she continued her third patrol over the area that was once the territory of the Archer's Bridge Merchants. Normally, Vicky loved flying. It gave her a sense of freedom that very few ever got to truly experience. But tonight was different.

First of all, there was an Endbringer attack somewhere along the horizon that no one had an idea where or when it was supposed to hit. Second, she had gotten into a fight with Dean over the fact that she missed their Valentine's Day date, and they wound up breaking up. Again. Plus her Mom was being more crabby towards her and Amy than usual on account of being so stressed over trying to keep Taylor out of prison and out of Protectorate control over the fact that Skidmark and his Merchants almost died during his attack on the Manufactorum.

And speaking of that psychotic Tinker, that wasn't the only problem Taylor was causing Vicky. While Vicky didn't really care too much that Taylor turned the Merchants into red smears across the pavement, after all Vicky wasn't the paragon of restraint, at least Vicky never actually killed anyone. But with how thoroughly Taylor decapitated the Merchants, the E88 and ABB were now out in force, scrambling to take however much of the Merchant's former territory as they could.

She already had to stop a three way fight between the E88, ABB, and Merchant leftovers. And while she was doing that, apparently Assault and Battery had gotten into a fight with Crusader and Rune while Armsmaster ended up fighting Oni Lee a few blocks away. It wasn't to a point of an all out gang war, as apparently both the E88 and ABB knew that the Merchant territory wasn't worth that, but more of a feeding frenzy where both sides were just trying to grab as much as they could before the situation stabilized.

Deciding to take a break, Vicky slowed her speed to a hover as she pulled out her phone. With a rapid series of thumb movements that only a teenager would have, she sent Amy a text.

Hey Ames, how u holdin up?

It didn't even take a minute for Amy to respond.

Sux. Patched up 3 Merchants & 1 skinhead. Going 2 b long night.

Vicky sighed again. She seemed to be doing a lot of that tonight.

Take a break if u need. Hve u txted Taylor yet?

That was a bit of a cheap shot, but Taylor seemed to be the only thing Amy thought about if she wasn't at the hospital. On more than one occasion Vicky caught her sister staring at her phone, doe-eyed as she waited for Taylor to contact her. Vicky told her sister that she should text Taylor, be the one to initiate, maybe ask her to hang out, but Vicky only received a firm denial. Apparently Amy was concerned about looking too clingy or over eager. Vicky would almost call Amy's actions cute if it wasn't for the fact that Taylor was the intended recipient for her feelings.

God she wished it was anyone else besides Taylor that Amy could've fallen head over heels for. Why not like, Stacey from the basketball team? Vicky was pretty sure she was bi. Or literally anyone from the softball team? Half of them were lesbians. Probably. Maybe Vicky was playing on stereotypes there. But regardless, instead of any of them, Amy had to develop a crush on their local, basement-dwelling, self-mutilating, probably sociopathic Tinker. God and Vicky was encouraging her to go for it. What fucking timeline were they in right now, and what Tinker did she have to talk to to go fix it?

Before Vicky could get a reply from Amy however, there was a scream below her. Swiftly pocketing her phone, Vicky flew right for the source of the scream, and just as swiftly she found her target. Three men, white with shaved heads chasing down a black woman through an alley. It wasn't hard for Vicky to put together that they were E88 scumbags looking to cause some trouble.

Swooping down low, Vicky weaved through the buildings and into the alleyway. Before the three skinheads could corner the poor woman, Vicky landed between them in the classic hero pose, a three point landing that cracked the asphalt beneath her. With her golden hair fluttering over her cape, Vicky met the eyes of the E88 members with a hard glare.

For a second, no one said anything. Taking advantage of the lull, Vicky cocked her head back and looked at the woman behind her. "You may want to get out of here, miss."

The woman was a somewhat tall African American, probably college age, with worn, ratty clothing that marked her as a probable local of this area of town. Victoria didn't have to ask twice as the woman immediately booked it for the exit, getting as far away from the approaching violence as possible.

With the civilian gone, Vicky returned her attention back to the E88. "Now then, my suggestion is that you all surrender, I call the police, and you all get taken into custody peacefully. But I'd actually prefer it if you guys fought back, because I really need to hit something right now." To accentuate her point, Vicky released a wave of her aura.

Vicky could tell her words and her aura were having an effect, as the two skinheads in the rear became visibly nervous. The one in the front of the pack, the obvious leader however, only seemed to get angry as he snarled. "Fuck off super-cunt. You don't want the kind of heat we can call in." He then reached for his pocket and pulled out a phone.

Vicky almost snorted. "Oh please. When you're on the same team as Lady Photon and Laserdream, you can tell me what heat really is. Now why don't you all get on the ground and put your hands behind your head, before I put you into the ground?"

It seemed that this time, Vicky let a little bit too much of her aura out, and the backup goons lost their nerves, turning around and sprinting away. With a small roll of her eyes, Vicky flew forward with a burst of speed, catching one by the scruff of his shirt. When she saw that the second continued to run away, uncaring that his comrade was captured, Vicky had an idea.

With a small, self-satisfied grin, Vicky threw the skinhead she was holding into the back of the fleeing one. The two collided and collapsed into a heap of limbs. Vicky didn't think she hurt them too bad, after all it was a light toss. They'd probably just have some road rash and bruises, maybe a broken bone. Not like they didn't deserve it anyway. A small groan from both of them confirmed they were alive.

Floating back up, Vicky turned back to the leader and said, "So, how about that surrender?"

"Fuck you, bitch!" The leader screamed as he reached for the back of his pants with his right hand.

It was a classic maneuver, and one that Vicky instantly recognized. Vicky exploded forward, extending out her own hand as she caught the skinhead's hand mid-pistol draw. With a squeeze of her hand, Vicky crushed the pistol, alongside several of the skinhead's fingers. The skinhead screamed, but Vicky didn't feel too particularly bad for him. Sure, Vicky had her forcefield, but two lucky, consecutive shots in a row would be enough to hurt her. And she wasn't exactly feeling like taking chances tonight.

The skinhead dropped to his knees, clutching his broken, bleeding hand as he went into shock, the cellphone in his other hand clattering to the ground. Vicky did actually grimace at how fucked up his hand looked, but she shoved it down. If things got too bad, she could drop him off with her sister.

"You should just give up already. This is getting pathetic." she sneered at him, pressing her aura to its maximum.

Through a face paling from pain and blood loss, the skinhead looked up to Vicky and said, "You know, I think we said something similar to your aunt."

Vicky's next move was a gut reaction. A visceral reflex as she felt a surge of anger towards this fucking scumbag who dared bring up the name of her aunt. Vicky backhanded him. Hard. And since Vicky had the power to lift a car with ease, the speed at which the skinhead went flying shocked even her.

The skinhead went from his knees to airborne, body ragdolling as he spun through the air in a corkscrew, rotating several times before he ultimately impacted a nearby dumpster, denting the entire side several inches. The man's body slumped to the ground, limbs twisted in strange ways and blood pooling beneath him.

Vicky's eyes widened. "FUCK!" Vicky swore. She didn't mean to hit him that fucking hard. Why did he have to piss her off like that?

Flying over to him, Vicky checked if he had a pulse. He did, which was good, but he was otherwise completely fucked up. She was pretty sure spines weren't supposed to bend the way his was. Pulling out her phone, Vicky quickly brought up her sister's number and called, and then felt her heart drop when she saw she had no service.

What the actual fuck? Vicky should have service everywhere in the city. Hell she had it when she was only a few hundred feet away in the air. Thinking quickly, Vicky went back for the skinhead's cell phone that had fallen on the ground. When she grabbed it however, she saw that his similarly had no service.

Okay, that was too weird to be a coincidence. But whatever, this man needed Amy otherwise he was going to die. Vicky bent down to pick him up and was prepared to fly him all the way to the hospital. The sound of metal landing on concrete behind her stopped her.

Vicky spun around, and the first thing out of her mouth when she saw her newest guest was, "Tech-Priest?"

But Vicky immediately knew she was wrong. This new cape in front of her had a similar motif to Taylor, a set of TinkerTech armor underneath a crimson red robe, and a face obscured by a gasmask with a pair of glowing blue synthetic eyes. But this cape was obviously male, both taller and broader than Taylor was, and lacking the robot factory claws that Taylor used in her armor. Instead, he carried what looked like some kind of Tinkertech cattle prod in his hands.

Then to Vicky's further surprise, 5 more capes of identical costume appeared as well. They were all armed with Tinkertech rifles, but none had them raised.

The leader regarded Vicky for a moment, his goggles scanning her up and down until he finally said, "Victoria Dallon. You are known to the creator."

Victoria winced at the heavily artificial voice laced with static. Yep, definitely something made by Taylor. "What are you?" Vicky asked as she warily looked over all of them. "Some of Tech-Priest's battle droids or something?" In any other situation, this would actually be cool as Hell to see.

The leader paused again, considering what to say. Eventually, it spoke. "We are skitarii. Servants of the Tech-Priest and the Omnisissah. Your appearance here is an anomaly, and has been logged and forwarded to the prophet."

Vicky's mind blue-screened for a moment as she processed everything the skitarii said. Omnissiah? Prophet? But more importantly, they logged her appearance here! "Wait, are you telling Taylor I'm here!? Please, you can't!" Fuck she couldn't believe one of Taylor's drones caught her red handed nearly killing a man.

"It is already done." The lead skitarii said. "The prophet now wishes to speak with you." The skitarii stood ramrod straight and began mumbling, "Commencing phylactic communion. Engaging neural congress. Uploading…"

Then, in an instant, the robotic, masculine body language of the lead skitarii shifted, almost shrinking in on himself as he took on a more dainty, hunched over stance.

"Hello Vicky." The skitarii's voice said, but through mannerisms Vicky could tell it was Taylor speaking. "Made quite the mess here, haven't you?" The skitarii shifted its head to look at the E88 member Vicky just put into a dumpster. "A broken back, neck, fractured skull, a multitude of smaller wounds. That man will die soon without proper aid."

Vicky winced at Taylor's words. "Fuck, Taylor I know! I didn't mean to do it! Please, you can't tell anyone one about this. And are you the one jamming the cell phones? Stop and I can call my sister, she can heal him, and we can all just forget about this!"

Taylor didn't say anything at first. She just continued staring at Vicky while the man bled out on the ground. Vicky was about to speak again when Taylor cut her off and said, "I will not deactivate the jammers." Vicky felt her heart drop as her hands trembled anxiously. Taylor continued. "However, I won't say anything about what happened here in exchange for two things." The skitarii then held up its index and middle finger in a V sign.

"What do you want? I'll do anything!" Vicky hurridley said, not thinking of what Taylor could potentially ask of her.

Despite not seeing an actual face, Vicky could somehow see Taylor smiling behind the skitarii. "First, you also agree to not speak of this meeting. That none of my skitarii were also here tonight, and you know nothing about their existence. They are something I wish to keep up my sleeves."

That wasn't too bad, so Vicky nodded her head.

At her response, Taylor continued, "Second…" Taylor then pointed to the three unconscious E88 members. "You will allow my skitarii to take custody of these men."

Vicky almost immediately agreed, but her mind violently stopped her. Unlike what her detractors on PHO said, Vicky wasn't dumb. Hell, she was taking a lot of AP classes for Pete's sake! Taylor wanted to take these skinheads prisoner. And it wasn't a hard leap of logic for Vicky to guess why.

Looking back at the skitarii, one, overwhelming fact screamed at Vicky. One that, in the heat of the moment, Vicky completely forgot about. Taylor wasn't a robotics Tinker. Taylor was a cybernetics Tinker. The skitarii in front of her weren't combat drones or battle droids… they were people.

The horrifying realization only seemed to compound on Vicky, as she remembered hearing how a number of the Merchants that attacked Taylor's base were never found, assumed to have escaped.

Fuck… Vicky debated what she should do. Could she really just let Taylor's skitarii go after her epiphany? I mean, sure, Taylor was only taking out criminals, but even criminals had rights! What Taylor was doing was beyond messed up. It was inhuman. Hell, it could even be kill order worthy.

But at the same time, could Vicky even take down Taylor and her Skitarii? Tinkers were after all, the most versatile of Capes, and Vicky had no doubt in her mind that Taylor could make something which could bypass her force field and put her down. Maybe if Vicky got all of New Wave, or even the Protectorate involved. There was no way Taylor could stop all of them. But… then Taylor could tell everyone about what happened here.

Sure they'd stop Taylor, but Vicky would not only be killing her own superhero career, she'd probably also see the inside of a cell for what she'd done here tonight. And Vicky couldn't do that. It wouldn't just destroy her life, it'd destroy her family's reputation, cripple the entirety of the New Wave movement.

With a shaky breath, Vicky asked, "Do… do you turn anyone innocent into your… skitarii?" Vicky knew Taylor could just lie to her, but Vicky needed to know where Taylor stood.

For her part, Taylor almost seemed repulsed by the idea. "No. I only take the dregs and parasites of society to uplift. Like the Merchants, or those E88 members. I take them in and turn them into a force of good for the city. To save the city."

Vicky thought that Taylor really needed to reevaluate her definition of "good." But if Taylor wasn't hurting anyone who didn't deserve it, then maybe Vicky could compromise here. It was like the concept of Mutually Assured Destruction from the Cold War that she learned about in history class. Both sides had a weapon, or in this case a secret, that could destroy the other. And to avoid said mutual destruction, they'd have to talk and negotiate, using their secret as a deterrence against the other.

Biting her lip so hard she tasted a little bit of blood, Vicky felt a piece of her soul die as she said, "They're all yours." Vicky then stood aside and moved away from the skinhead.

Taylor, or the skitarii, or whoever was in control, didn't respond vocally. The skitarii only gave a small nod as they walked forward and began collecting the E88 members. They were not gentle with their work, even on the man with the multiple broken bones.

As they shouldered the gangsters, Vicky had to ask, "Do you think what you're doing is actually going to help the city? It's not what a hero would do."

The lead skitarii paused, then turned to Vicky. "The actions of heroes… are what led the city to its current state. I am not here to be this city's hero, Victoria Dallon. I am here to be its saviour. Think upon that difference." Taylor began to walk away, skinheads in tow. Then she paused, and glanced at Vicky one last time over her shoulder. "And by the way, if you ever need to hide evidence in the future, give me a call." Then the Skitarii ran off into the night, disappearing from sight.

Vicky stayed in the alleyway for a while longer, hovering off the ground as she processed what just happened, her only company the buzzing of the streetlights above her and the ambient noise of the city.

She then broke the silence as she yelled out, "Fuck! Fucking fuckity fuck FUCK!" Out of anger and frustration, Vicky lashed out her fist, swinging it at a nearby brick wall. She stopped herself at the last second, her knuckles pausing inches from the brickwork.

Shit like that… is exactly what got her into this situation. Running in, guns blazing, and letting her anger get the better of her. If she punched a hole in that wall right now, people would ask questions, and she'd be getting hit with a destruction of public property charge. Fuck. Amy always told her she needed to control her temper, but she never expected anything like this to happen. Every other time Vicky had gone too far, she'd been able to get her sister to come in and save the day.

But now, Taylor knew what she'd done. And she'd known what Taylor had done. Fuck. If this wasn't the most fucked up situation she'd ever been in, she didn't know what was. And to make matters worse, it was her own fault. If she actually restrained herself, like Amy has constantly told her to do, she wouldn't be getting blackmailed by fucking Miss Frankenstein.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Vicky began to float out of the alley and into the sky once more. She couldn't do anything about the Taylor situation right now. She'd have to think about how to handle that with a clear head. Or if she'd even try to handle it. But what she could do something about was her own actions. She needed to be smarter, to think more before acting. What if it wasn't Taylor who caught her but Kaiser, or Coil? They wouldn't hesitate to release the info on what happened here to destroy her and her family's reputation and clear out more heroes from the city.

At the very least, Taylor would keep quiet about this. To ensure that, all Vicky would have to do is keep quiet about Taylor's cyborg slaves. Fucking great. And so, as Vicky flew off into the night sky, she silently swore to herself not only to never speak about tonight to anyone, but to also use her head more. No one was going to catch her in a situation like this ever again.

Chapter Text

Thursday, February 24th…

The sound of a blaring alarm woke Taylor. It wasn't the high pitched ringing of a normal alarm, as she had been able to program her mind to awaken herself whenever needed, thus rendering her old alarm clock useless. No, this flashing klaxon that could only be compared to an air raid warning was coming from her laptop, which she had placed on her nightstand. Taylor groaned, her weak, fleshy bits creaking in dissatisfaction at the interruption of her first real sleep in several days.

Glancing at the laptop, she unlocked it to see what was causing the alarm. She swore if someone was breaking into her lab again she was going to tear off their heads and use their brains as processors for a super cogitator. But when the screen unlocked, the words on it made her eyes go wide.

WARNING, ENDBRINGER ATTACK IMMINENT!

Not too long ago, Taylor had created a small bug to infiltrate the PRTs systems to keep her appraised not only on their intelligence on local capes, but on Endbringer attacks and other S-Class threats as well. This wasn't a Tinkertech program, just a regular worm that she was able to make after downloading the necessary computer science knowledge. With a quick tap on her keyboard, Taylor began rooting within the PRT servers to look for more information. The PRT wasn't keeping quiet about the event, sending messages to every cape within the Protectorate roster with only the barest encryption.

The Simurgh was attacking Canberra, Australia.

Taylor grimaced. The Simurgh was the worst of the Endbringers for her to theoretically fight. Not to say that Behemoth or Leviathan would be easy to contend with, but the Simurgh was a direct counter to any Tinker, copying their powers in order to create her own Tinkertech. And with Taylor's current forces, she was less than useless against a being of such magnitude.

Not to mention Taylor had no way of getting to Australia. There was that teleporter Cape, Strider, her perfect memory recalled, who would often get employed before Endbringer battles to teleport capes to and fro. It wasn't hard for her to determine where and when the Capes from Brockton Bay were going to meet for the teleportation.

Taylor considered her options. Part of her wanted to go and try and help, to think that she could use her enhancements to help in some way, perhaps as a medic or search and rescue. But Taylor realized this was her emotions talking. Activating her cranial circuitry, Taylor did the same thing she did when she spoke with Armsmaster after the Merchants attacked her Manufactorum. She began to limit her emotional responses.

In the days after her operation with Amy, Taylor realized her cranial circuitry did more than just enhance her intelligence, it gave her direct access to several of her neurological systems. With a few modifications, similar to what she then used on the skitarii's MIUs, she was able to then learn how to control these systems. This allowed her to do things like limit her own emotions to a degree, so she could contemplate a topic through pure logic, unfiltered by emotional or moral complications.

And all logical parts of her mind came to the same conclusion. It was not worth it to go. The cold, immutable logic, returned the same words over and over. There was no point. She did not have the resources, and wasting her skitarii or Guardsmen on this would be foolish. That didn't even get into the risk to herself, or how she could even be a detriment as a Tinker near the Simurgh. She needed to focus on building up her forces and nothing else. And so, Taylor closed her laptop and crawled back into bed.

As she laid there, trying to sleep once more, a thought struck her mind. Sitting back up, Taylor moved to her laptop and pulled out the cellphone that she had Merrick purchase for her. She no longer cared about her father's ban against them, and trying to organize her troops and manufactorum without rapid, long range communication was pure idiocy. So she would use this phone, at least until she developed some kind of internal communication technology that could be used by her employees.

Searching through the contacts, she found the one she was looking for, Amy Dallon.

This is Taylor. Are you going? She sent.

After a short pause, there was a response.

Yea. Going with fam to PRT HQ. I'm healing and Vicky is on S&R. R u coming?

Taylor stared at her phone for a moment.

No. I fear I will be of no use there.

After sending the message, Taylor felt a strange sensation in her stomach. Then she typed in a follow up.

I'm sorry.

Taylor continued to stare at the phone until Amy responded.

Don't be. Most of the Wards aren't coming. Neither is Armsmaster. Tinkers are bad for Simurgh fights. No offense. Taylor took note that Amy was now typing with proper grammar and spelling as she sent her next text. If anything, I'm glad you're going to be staying safe back here.

Taylor nodded her head, glad that Amy could keep a level in the circumstances. Although she couldn't exactly discern why she was so concerned with Taylor's safety. Perhaps that was simply Amy's good nature as a hero. It also somewhat threw Taylor for a loop since she wasn't exactly sure how to respond to someone showing what appeared to be genuine sincerity to her.

So rather than come up with a thoughtful response, she just typed, Good luck. Stay alive.

After all, Amy was a talented fleshcrafter and a boon to Taylor's research and procedures. Losing her wouldn't be catastrophic, but it would slow down her process of self-augmentation.

With that, Taylor put down her phone without waiting for Amy's response, and went back into her bed, and swiftly returned to sleep.

Saturday, February 26th…

Taylor stood at the front of her Manufactorum, pacing back and forth in front of the sealed steel doors. Where normally the factory floor would be filled with the bustling of half a dozen dock workers fabricating components for her Tinkertech, currently it was silent. And instead of the normal DWA members doing their work, the factory floor was filled with a group of 18 men and women.

The people assembled in front of her were of a range of ages, from late 20s to mid 40s, and from a variety of backgrounds and ethnicities. But what they had in common was the hard, determined look on their faces, and tough, well built bodies that spoke of a great deal of either physical training or manual labor. They all wore the fatigues of the Guardsmen, but at Sgt. Merrick's request, they were changed from drab gray to a more military khaki-tan. At the same time, his and the other existing Guardsmen's flak armor were changed from the gun metal gray to an olive-green. Taylor questioned the wisdom of wearing green and tan armor in the middle of a city, but acquiesced to the request when Merrick said it was good for the morale of the troops to not wear something too plain.

And morale would be important for all of the recruits in front of her. As per her own request, Merrick began an extensive recruiting drive to bring in new recruits into the Guardsmen. Focusing on the fellow DWA members he could easily background check, Merrick collected 18 more members who were eager to join Taylor's new force.

These men and women did not choose to join her because they required cybernetic replacements like the original Guardsmen. No, they joined her for two reasons, money and vengeance. Taylor could provide them (for now) with a steady job and income, something which was not uncommon for members of the DWA to join one of the various gangs for. And with Merrick's and her father's approval, her organization was far more palatable than say the E88.

But besides that, Merrick made the very smart choice of recruiting members who had all lost something to the gangs. Some lost siblings or children to drugs pushed by the Merchants. Others had family members attacked by the E88, or friends kidnapped by the ABB. All of them were hurt and angry, clamoring for vengeance against the gangs and their villains. And who was Taylor to deny them their vengeance?

"Ladies and gentlemen." Taylor began as she addressed the crowd. "Thank you for coming. I am not one for grandstanding or speeches, so I will keep this brief."

Taylor began pacing in front of the crowd who stood firmly at attention. "You have chosen to join my organization, my Guardsmen, and for that, you have my thanks. I will not lie to you, this will be a difficult occupation, grueling even. Your life will soon become filled with danger. We have been attacked once by a gang already, and there is no doubt in my mind we will be attacked again."

Spinning about face, Taylor stopped and faced her new recruits directly. "But once you finish your training, and join the ranks of the Guardsmen fully, I can give you a chance to achieve something greater than you have ever done before. You will become a part of a great machine, a network dedicated to the revival of Brockton Bay." At her words, Taylor held out her hands animatedly, as if to reach out to the city around her.

She then dropped her arms and returned to a neutral, erect stance. "The Sergeant Major will be putting you through the proverbial wringer until you are competent enough that I am convinced you won't kill yourselves or your allies with a lasgun. Good luck with your training, and may the Omnissiah watch over you." Taylor then turned to her officers and said, "Sergeant Major Merrick, Lieutenant Mira, with me."

"Dismissed!" Merrick barked at the newest recruits, who were then herded away by the other senior Guardsmen. Merrick then made his way over to Taylor alongside their newest officer, 1st Lieutenant Mira Kell.

Lieutenant Mira was younger than Merrick, a woman in her early 30s, athletic with a shorter, stocky build, and a pretty face. She wore her auburn-brown hair in a ponytail and was dressed in the same khaki fatigues and green flak armor as Merrick.

Like Merrick, Mira was a veteran of the United States military, having retired as a 1st Lieutenant in the US Army several years ago. She moved to Brockton Bay several years alongside her husband, who was a member of the DWA while she worked for a civil engineering firm. They lived a rather well off life, until last year where her husband was killed by a stray bullet from a fight between the Merchants and ABB. Apparently, Mira had never gotten over his death, and Taylor was more than happy to exploit that anger for her own use.

"Tech-Priest." Mira saluted as she walked up to Taylor. "For someone who says they're not an orator, you gave a half decent speech."

Taylor shrugged. "Despite this artificial visage and metallic limbs, I like to think I maintain something of a heart." At least, when she's not actively dampening her emotions. "Regardless. With the recruits beginning their training with Daryl and the others, we have more to discuss. Come, we must go to my workshop." Taylor then spun about face and made for the basement staircase.

Merrick and Mira glanced at once another, knowing what was beneath their very feet, before swallowing their emotions and following behind Taylor. When they entered Taylor's personal workshop, they were all greeted with the strange sight of two, red-cloaked figures in what looked like the middle of a boxing match.

The two skitarii fighting were trading blows faster than any normal human could perform, with precision only a machine could implement. Eventually, one of the skitarii was able to intercept a punch, grabbing his opponent by the wrist before flipping him and throwing him to the cold, steel ground.

"That is two victories to none, Ryza-02." The victor said, his voice containing a smug condescension despite the synthesized filter over it.

Ryza-02 growled on the ground. "Your performance here does not equate to performance in the field, Metalica-01."

Metalica-01 only tilted his head up at Ryza-02. "Excuses to justify your failures. Perhaps your failings come from your inferior parts, both organic and augmetic."

Metalica-01, like all the Skitarii of Metalica squad, were made of former members of the E88. While they were all mindwiped and psycho-indoctrinated, it was made apparent by his attitude that Metalica-01 still maintained some of his previous life's biases. That was an interesting problem to Taylor. Were his prejudices from residual left overs from his memories, or perhaps more of a problem of his genetic make up that caused lack of empathy? Something to research later, if Taylor had time.

"Are you saying that I craft subpar augmetics, Metalica-01?" Taylor snapped as she entered the workshop fully.

At her words and appearance, the two Skitarii stood erect and saluted in the way Taylor designed, interlocking the first joints of their fingers together with their thumbs raised up; the sign of the cog.

"Of course not, Prophet," Metalica-01 immediately said. "I would never criticize your work, or the work you do for the Machine God."

"Not to my face, apparently." Taylor hissed out, annoyed. With a mental flick, Taylor then took full control of Metalica-01, puppeting his body. She walked him out to the back room of the workshop where she would use him to maintain the Skitarii's equipment.

That was an additional unexpected boon Taylor found she could do with her enhanced mental facilities. With her enhanced intelligence came an inhuman level of multi-tasking capability. Combined with her ability of possessing and controlling her skitarii, she could possess her cyborg soldiers and have them perform maintenance, or even create new tech, while her primary body did other things. 16 hours of labor should be enough for the errant skitarii to learn respect. If not, she would just program it into him.

"As for you, Ryza-02." She said, turning her head to the second Skitarii. "Bring Enginseer to me. I have much to discuss with her."

Ryza-02 bowed and moved to the back room of the workshop as well. It had used to be the restroom and storage facility of fallout shelter, Taylor had since renovated and expanded it to be a second workshop where the skitarii would barracks and store their weapons. Enginseer often spent her time there too, as she oversaw the maintenance of the Skitarii and their equipment in addition to her own tinkering.

A few moments later, Ryza-02 appeared once more alongside Enginseer.

Taylor nodded at the duo, before turning to Ryza-02 and saying, "Leave us."

Flashing the sign of the cog once more, Ryza-02 turned and left.

Once he was gone, Enginseer turned to Taylor and bowed her head. "Tech-Priest." She then turned to the others and bowed. "Guardsmen. What do you require of me?"

"We must discuss strategy," Taylor answered. She then turned so she was squared up to all present. "Our numbers have greatly increased as of late, and we must talk of scheduling and defenses. Tell us Enginseer, what is the status of the skitarii?"

Enginseer stood up a little bit taller as she was called out. "Both Ryza and Metalica squads stand at full six-man kill teams. They are armed, armored, and ready for combat at your word, Tech-Priest."

Taylor nodded her head before she then turned to Lieutenant Mira.

Mira stood at attention as well. "Ma'am. Including all of the recruits we brought in today, the total number of Guardsmen sits at a full platoon of thirty troopers. Of those, only twelve would be considered combat ready at the moment. Those are all military veterans. But if worse comes to worse, you can stick a gun in anyone's hands and tell them where to aim."

"Hmm." Taylor grunted. "Recommendations on deployments?"

"We can break down the twelve veteran Guardsmen into two squads as well." Merrick suggested. "An Alfa squad dedicated to protecting the manufactorum, and a Bravo squad dedicated to training the recruits. We can also rotate them so they don't get too used to one job and get lazy"

"Meanwhile, if you do not put the skitarii on hunting missions, they can be set to guarding places where we could be vulnerable." Enginseer added on. "For example, your home, Tech-Priest. Or your father's place of work."

"I thought gangs and villains don't go for family members of capes." Mira asked, frowning.

Taylor shrugged. "They shouldn't. But I do not see why we should leave them the option open to them should they decide to." She then turned to Merrick. "How long will it take to get the current recruits to a minimal level of competency?"

"Minimal level of competency?" Merrick snorted, stifling a laugh. "Ma'am, you can teach anyone to shoot a gun in a day if that's your minimum level. But if you want those boys and girls up there to be a unit? To act on reflex and trust each other in a pinch? That takes time."

"How much time?" Taylor pressed.

Merrick sighed. "Look ma'am. Marine Corps boot camp alone is 13 weeks. Army's a little less. Then you got weeks of individual training afterwards. And even then, once you finish all of that, you're still a greenhorn grunt that no one would trust to take a shit in a toilet correctly." Taylor's eye only narrowed on him as he continued to avoid the question. "But… if you want me to get them moving and shooting together, give me a month, at least. That way they can learn some basics and know how to not kill themselves or each other."

"You have a month then," Taylor said with a nod. She then turned to Enginseer. "And how are the missions reclaiming former Merchant hideouts going?"

"The skitarii of Ryza squad have hit another hideout that I was able to piece together from their memories and my own," Enginseer responded emotionlessly. "Unfortunately, it appears that whatever Merchants that were still around following the capture of Skidmark took the money and drugs and went to ground."

Frowning behind her mask, Taylor nodded. "That is unfortunate. I had hoped the raids would give us some more capital to buy us time before we could gain a contract." She shook her head. "No matter, we cannot change the past, just continue on searching for new solutions. Speaking of, how goes your newest design?"

Enginseer perked up at the mention of her work. Almost immediately she began to pull out paper blueprints out of her robes. "Very well! I have finished the first pass design on an APC for use by the Guardsmen." She rolled out the blueprint which showed the image of a large, blocky APC with thick tank treads on both sides, a turret mounted Tinkertech cannon on its top, and what looked like several smaller guns mounted on the front and sides of the hull.

"I call this design the Chimera," Enginseer said proudly. "Fast moving, well armored, and modular in its design, with its turret mounted Multi-Laser, the only thing which could actually threaten it in combat would be a main battle tank, or a Purity-level blaster."

"Or an Endbringer," Taylor said without inflection.

Mira and Merrick both winced at the mention of the name, and Enginseer only frowned at her. "I would like to see you attempt to design something which can combat those monsters," she snapped back.

"With the attack on Canberra, we have a few months to try and figure something out." Taylor shrugged. "But besides that, good work so far. Once we get the funding we can start constructing a prototype. Perhaps the PRT would be actually interested in buying one of these."

Merrick snorted. "With the way they've been ghosting you? Doubt it."

Taylor glared at the Sgt. Major, but didn't snap at him. "And that leads me to my next topic. Coil." Merrick's face became stern at her words, while Mira frowned with disapproval. Enginseer meanwhile, seemed impassive. Taylor continued. "As you all know, Coil has approached us with an offer of business and cooperation. I want your opinions on whether or not we continue negotiations."

"You know my opinion Ma'am." Lt. Mira said almost immediately. "The gangs are a plague on this city, and Coil is no different. You've said you want to save Brockton Bay, but working with Coil will only propagate the corruption in this city. We give him Tinkertech, and we set him up to take control of the city."

Taylor nodded. "Understandable, given your history." She then looked at the others. "Anyone else?"

"I disagree with the lieutenant." Enginseer spoke up, drawing eyes to her. "Yes, Coil is a threat and a problem, but he is also an opportunity. As we have said, the PRT is not interested in our technology. Nor have your private business ventures netted us any significant revenue."

Taylor glared at Enginseer for bringing up the fact that Taylor's prosthetic business only netted them a handful of customers. Enginseer took the look in stride as she continued. "We know for a fact that Coil already purchases Tinkertech from other sources. We know for a fact he's already offered Tech-Priest a significant sum of money. If we want to expand our current facilities beyond what they already are, then we need Coil's business."

"A fair point as well." Taylor said as she looked at Merrick. "And you, Sergeant Major?"

Merrick paused to think for a moment. "I'm more concerned about security. We just don't know enough about Coil's organization to know if we can take him on in a straight fight. We know he controls half of downtown, has top of the line mercs, Tinkertech, and can go toe to toe with the Empire. Outside of that, we got nothing. We don't even know if he has any other Parahumans working for him."

"Something I have thought of as well," Taylor said. She then turned her head to Mira. "I agree that we cannot trust Coil, as he is one of the many problems poisoning this city." She then looked to Enginseer. "But he is also the only viable source of revenue currently presented to us. As such, I am willing to continue negotiations with him. But, as the Sergeant Major says, we need more fire power if we attempt to make a deal with this particular devil. What we need… is more Parahumans under our banner. Suggestions on that?"

"Maybe an alliance with some of the other parties in the city?" Merrick suggested. "You're friendly with the Dallon girls. Maybe make some kind of defense pact with New Wave. Hell, we could even give them some tech in return."

"New Wave wouldn't be too happy if they found out we were working with Coil though." Mira countered. "It would have to be either a neutral party, or maybe some small-time villains. I know Faultline has a mercenary crew for hire. We give them money and tech, they'd probably work for us."

Taylor hummed at that. It was nice that Mira was still participating despite not agreeing with Taylor's chosen direction. A mark of a good officer. "Not a bad idea. They could be pricey, but worth the money."

"We need more Tinkers." Enginseer abruptly added on. "Preferably one with a speciality which could synergize with our own. We must continue to spread the light of the Machine God to those blessed like us."

Another Tinker would be very useful. One that would be particularly useful would be one who could specialize in weaponry, who could refine and expand the arsenal of the Manufactorum.

"Hmm, Kid Win and Armsmaster would both be good to bring into the fold. Unfortunately, I think their loyalty to the Protectorate and heroic moral fiber would preclude them from working with us." Yet.

But, Taylor then recalled the name and face of one, somewhat infamous, Tinker in Brockton Bay. One who was apparently so blessed by the Machine God, that he had no constraints on what he could build.

"But that gives me an idea," Taylor then said as she grinned behind her mask. "Tell me, who amongst you plays video games?"

Chapter Text

Monday, February 28th…

"Dude, this is a dumb fucking idea." Tim Howard aka Uber muttered to his partner as he adjusted his armor over his body. It was a set of stark-white, plastoid Stormtrooper armor that Uber and Leet used during their Star Wars themed show where they raided a patrol of "Rebel" Wards.

"I mean, she said she's got a job for us. She's not a hero. So this could turn out good!" Todd Sweeney aka Leet said back as he shifted uncomfortably in his own armor, the lighter Scout Trooper version of the armor.

Uber held the SMG-sized E-11 blaster in his hands, the standard armament of a Stormtrooper, while Leet had Han Solo's DL-44 heavy blaster pistol holstered at his side from a different Star Wars themed performance. Leet had tried to make the smaller EC-17 hold-out blaster that a Scout Trooper actually would've used, but unfortunately the weapon blew up the first time he tried to test it.

"You know she pretty much single handedly took out the Merchant's right?" Uber grumbled as he scanned the perimeter around them.

When Tech-Priest had contacted Uber and Leet for a business meeting they decided to meet up in a neutral area away from both of their headquarters. They had chosen an abandoned train station in the Trainyard. It was a simple, red brick building emptied out of everything but a few piles of trash and abandoned benches. Nearly all of the windows were either broken or boarded up. A quick scan with Leet's drone said that their only company were insects and abandoned train cars, but that didn't mean anything to Uber when they were meeting with a Tinker.

"The Merchants attacked a Tinker in their own workshop. That's like, seven different flavors of retarded," Leet said back. "Even we could take on a small army of Capes and druggies if I had all of my tech and defenses."

Uber had to think about that, and actually came to the same conclusion. If Skidmark, Mush, Squealer, and their goons attacked their base, Leet still had enough functioning tech that Uber was pretty confident he could take out most of them.

"Fair," Uber conceded. "But she's not a villain. She's a Rogue. One who's been known to be friendly with the PRT. What part of her message to you made you think you could trust her?" PHO was flooded with threads about Tech-Priest's initial appearance at the PRT HQ, as well as the Protectorate response to help her after she was attacked. She may not be a hero, but she was most likely on their side.

"I may be friendly with the PRT, but that by no means puts me on 'their side.'" A synthetic voice boomed around Uber, echoing throughout the empty station.

Uber's hand twitched on his blaster, and he almost raised it. At the opposite end of the train station, he watched 4 red-hooded figures approach. The two, taller, male figures pushed open the spray painted glass double doors as two, hooded female figures walked through.

One of the figures Uber could immediately tell was Tech-Priest, as her hair and stature looked the same as the girls he saw on PHO before the threads got locked down. The other woman, and it was definitely a woman, not a girl judging by her stacked figure, Uber had no idea who it was.

"Tech-Priest." Uber said, his voice calm and warm. He was using his powers to boost his interpersonal communication, very useful for diplomatic situations like this. "We didn't hear you approach."

Tech-Priest waved him off with a cybernetic hand. "That is the point. Enginseer here was able to modify our transport with stealth technology."

Uber blinked, processing what he was just told. Then his eyes moved to Enginseer. She was a somewhat tall, attractive woman. Busty, with unkempt blonde hair beneath her red hood. Uber had never met Squealer in person, but even with her welder-style goggles, and the fact that she was a Tinker who worked on vehicles, it wasn't hard for him to put together who he was looking at. He swallowed.

"Oh, stealth technology!?" Leet asked excitedly. Apparently he didn't come to the same conclusion that Uber had. "How did you achieve that? I have a pseudo-cloaking device built based on the same framework as my hologram projector, but it's pretty temperamental right now."

"It's actually a chemical substance placed on top of our transport I call cameleoline." Enginseer said proudly. "Like a chameleon, it reacts to the nearby environment to blend, creating a near perfect camouflage. Combine it with sound dampeners on our engines and wheels, and it becomes quite difficult to detect."

"Whoa." Leet breathed out, undoubtedly impressed. "Oh man, using chemical based camouflage rather than light based cloaking! Man, how have I not thought about that?!" He then turned to Uber. "Dude! Metal Gear Solid show! Easy! You can be Snake and I'll be Otakon!"

Uber had to admit that sounded pretty fucking cool. Like, uber cool. But right now they had more important things to worry about. "As awesome as that sounds, we should probably focus back on why we met in the first place."

"Indeed," Tech-Priest agreed as she snapped her head towards Enginseer. "And we shall stop sharing our technological secrets before we've had further negotiations."

Enginseer bowed her head in shame as she stepped back. "Apologies, Tech-Priest."

Uber nodded as he stepped forward. "Right well, so you said you wanted us for a job. What did you have in mind?"

Tech-Priest moved forward to meet Uber halfway. "Simple. I wish to extend an invitation to the two of you into my organization. I believe an merging of our two groups would be a boon to all involved."

"What?" Uber asked, the sheer surprise at Tech-Priest's audacity not letting him come up with any better response. Tech-Priest wanted to combine their gangs? What the actual fuck?

"You're interested in video games?" Leet asked excitedly. "Do you want to do streams with us too?"

"No. To both of those questions." Tech-Priest said to him blankly. "And to be blunt, if you join us I would ask that you end both your criminal activities and your streams."

Uber pulled a face like he just sucked on a lemon. "The Hell? Why would you want to team up with us if you don't want to be a villain or do video game streams?"

"Because Uber," Tech-Priest rasped out as she focused her gaze onto Leet. "Your companion here I believe is one of, if not the most important Tinker in Brockton Bay."

…

What?

Uber turned his head slightly and saw that Leet was standing ramrod straight, thrown completely for a loop by Tech-Priest's words. And Uber knew why. While Uber loved Leet like a brother, he knew that Leet was honestly dragging him down. If they were lucky, half of what Leet made would work, and that number was getting smaller every day. While it sucked to say, Leet's time to shine as a Tinker had come and gone long ago.

"That…" Leet stammered out. "That isn't funny."

"Good, because I am not telling a joke." Tech-Priest immediately answered. She took a step towards Leet, causing him to flinch and reflexively step back. "You, Leet. You who are so used to being abused and written off as a mere fool are one of the most important Tinkers in Brockton Bay! You were blessed by the Machine God to create anything! No other Tinker can make such a claim! Not me! Not Armsmaster. Not even Dragon!" Tech-Priest practically lunged forward as she moved face to face with Leet.

"Yet here you are, squandering your potential on video game knockoffs and replica weapons! Do you not hear the Omnissiah beg you, cry for you to break through your asinine constraints to create more!?" Tech-Priest gripped Leet by the straps of his Stormtrooper armor, causing him to fall back.

"Whoa whoa back off!" Uber shouted as she shoved his way between the two Tinkers, separating them.

That was a mistake, because as soon as he touched Tech-Priest, her two guards immediately raised their Tinkertech guns and aimed them right for him. Uber instinctively began reaching for a quickdraw skill to see if he could get a shot off before they hit him.

"Hold!" Tech-Priest shouted, stopping her guards in their tracks. Slowly, they lowered their weapons, letting Uber relax. Tech-Priest straightened her robes and spoke. "Apologies Uber. I may have allowed my excitement to get the better of me. Perhaps I need to recalibrate my emotional dampeners. But regardless, my point still stands. I see potential in you, Leet. More so than anyone else in this city. If you leave behind your life of streams and petty crimes, I can provide you with resources and allies who can help you achieve so much more than you ever have before."

Tech-Priest turned her head back to Uber. "And you are free to come as well. Your combat capabilities are well known, and I would be more than happy to provide you with Tinkertech weapons and enhancements should you desire."

Uber blinked again. This was a lot that Tech-Priest was trying to push onto them. Sure some non-exploding Tinkertech and an army of cyborg goons would be nice, but she was asking them to change their entire livelihood to join her. Not to mention the whole fucking Squealer thing. His eyes flicked over at Enginseer. Both her arms were mechanical. Was she injured that bad in that attack against the Mechanicus, or did she ask for those upgrades?

"I'm in." Leet immediately answered.

Uber snapped his gaze to his friend. "Dude! What the Hell!?"

Leet returned a look of determination that Uber had never seen in him before. "Uber, think about it. We barely make enough from our streams to support ourselves, and our luck won't hold out forever. One day we're either going to be caught by the Protectorate, or taken down by some other villain. And to be honest, working with Tech-Priest sounds a lot better than jail or getting incinerated by Lung."

Crossing his arms, Uber shook his head. "You know bro, you'd almost make a convincing argument. Hell I'd join you in saying yes if it wasn't for the fact that Tech-Priest here turned Squealer into her own personal cyborg slave!" Uber pointed a finger at Enginseer. "Or am I wrong, Tech-Priest!?"

Leet gasped behind his mask, while Tech-Priest scowled at Uber. However, it was Enginseer who responded before any other. "It is quite rude to point, you know?"

At her words, the energy and conviction behind Uber's accusation deflated. "Sorry." He muttered as he lowered his hand.

Enginseer nodded. "Thank you. And to answer your question, yes, I am the Cape formerly known as Squealer. But you are wrong in your other assessment. Tech-Priest did not enslave me, she saved me."

"Saved you?" Uber couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement. "Lady, I don't know if you've looked into a mirror recently, but you're a few limbs short to be considered any sort of 'saved.'"

"If you cannot see the blessings these improvements have bestowed upon me, then that is your failing, not ours!" Enginseer hissed at him, her face contorted beneath her welder's goggles. Then just as suddenly as the anger appeared, it vanished as she composed herself. "What do you know of me from my time as Squealer? I do not remember much, but I read the articles, saw my criminal record. By the Machine God I've even seen photos of what I used to look like. And I am disgusted by who I used to be.

"I look at the technology I used to create, and I am disgusted by how small my mind was. What are monster trucks when compared to the power of a fully armored main battle tank that even an Endbringer would fear? What are dragsters with boomboxes compared to a mechanized walker that could level a city with a single blast of its main cannon?" Enginseer stood tall and proud as she approached Leet and looked him in the eyes. "Tech-Priest turned me into something better. She made me not a failure. So what do you think she could make you into?"

Leet froze and he stared back into Enginseer's eyes. He swallowed hard as his emotions were no doubt battling within him.

"I'm in." Leet eventually squeaked out. He then turned to Uber. "Dude. I don't want to be a loser anymore."

Uber sighed in resignation. Leet seemed dead set on this. And this was the first time Uber had seen his friend really want to go for something. "Are you going to lobotomize us and turn us into cyborgs?"

As he said this, Uber focused his powers on reading microexpressions. He had seen an Earth Aelph TV show where the main character could tell if a person was lying based on involuntary microexpressions, and he had experimented with using his powers on it. While he could now recognize the expressions, he still had to study which expressions correlated to what a person could potentially be thinking, and he could tell if someone was lying with a moderate accuracy.

"So long as you do not betray or attack us, I shall not force anything upon either of you." Tech-Priest said. "Though if you wish for it, I shall provide you enhancements and maintenance free of cost."

Uber narrowed his eyes on Tech-Priest, and to his dissatisfaction, couldn't tell if she was lying. She had zero microexpressions. It was like she was a fucking doll or robot talking. He sighed.

"Okay fine. We're in. But!" Uber pointed his finger at Tech-Priest. "If I smell anything fishy, I'm pulling us out."

Tech-Priest scoffed. "The only thing you shall be smelling is progress and motor oil."

"That sounds objectively false, but whatever." Leet shrugged. "So, where do we go from here?"

"What do you say about combining our labs tonight?" Tech-Priest asked. "We have space in the Manufactorum, and the sooner we share our technology with one another, the faster we can both make improvements to our Tinkertech and ourselves."

"Tonight?" Uber asked incredulously. "We have a lot of stuff, volatile stuff might I add, that we'll need to move over."

"Don't worry, I have plenty of Skitarii here for manpower, and we have a second camouflaged truck which we can fill with the tech."

Leet nodded. "That sounds good. Guess we can ride with you to show you where our lair is."

"A logical course of action." Tech-Priest bowed before she spun around and made her way back to the truck, Enginseer and her two Skitarii guards falling in behind her.

Leet stepped forward, joining them, leaving Uber behind for a moment. Uber sighed, hoping he was making the right choice letting the two of them get absorbed into Tech-Priest's gang, before he then swiftly stepped forward to catch up to his friend.

Taylor watched impassionately as her Skitarii carried crate after crate of Leet tech into her workshop beneath the Manufactorum. As she knew she would be, Taylor was greatly impressed by the sheer breadth of technology Leet had been able to create. From holographic projectors and laser weaponry, to power armor and medical technology.

Leet had by far the most diverse portfolio of Tinkertech that Taylor had ever seen, and yet nearly all of it was limited to pop culture references and props. Taylor could recognize some, such as the iconic lightsaber, or that armor from Halo, but the identities of many of the others eluded her. It was simultaneously exciting and disappointing to now be working with Leet. He had such potential, but hamstrung and limited himself in such a foolish way. Hopefully Taylor could remove that silly and illogical constraint that Leet placed upon himself.

The sound of a heavy crate dropping upon the table next to her drew her out of her thoughts. Uber and Leet, no longer in their Stormtrooper armor and instead just wearing the black body suits and domino masks, had just carried over a box filled with some of Leet's weaponry that Taylor wanted to see.

"What do you have for me?" Taylor asked as Uber and Leet began to lay the weapons out in front of her.

Leet grinned a full face smile. "Only some of my best weapons!" He then stood over the two laser guns that they held in the train station. "These are my Star Wars blasters! The E-11 blaster rifle and the DL-44 heavy blaster pistol!" He then shifted to a much more alien looking weapon, two oblong purple-blue shapes connected by a handle that pulsated with plasma. "And this is the Covenant Plasma Rifle! We used this when we did the Halo special last Black Friday."

Taylor grunted, not caring for the particulars of the weapons' fictional history. She examined the E11 blaster rifle, her mind breaking down how it operated.

"It's actually really cool how they work." Leet explained. "The gas I used is a Tinkertech concoction based on the Star Wars Tibanna gas. The gas is released from this tank and goes into a chamber that I call the Xciter. It-"

"Energizes the gas into a hyper-charged plasma state, at which point the excited particles are then forced through a focusing crystal into a high-energy particle beam." Taylor finished as she looked over the gun. She then glanced up at Leet. "Or am I wrong?"

Leet blinked at her. "Uhh… yeah. That's exactly right. Do your guns work that way too?"

Taylor shook her head. "No, I focused on pure photonic energy. In fact, until I looked at your weapons, I was unsure of how to create my own particle beam or plasma weapons. And upon further inspection of your blaster…" Taylor held the E11 blaster rifle into the air as if it were a newborn infant. "Leet, my friend, I think I can replicate and mass produce your technology."

Uber and Leet both let their jaws drop, while even Enginseer looked at Taylor in surprise.

"What!?" Leet shouted as he slammed both his palms onto the workbench in front of them. "You… you can copy my tech!?"

"Not a perfect copy." Taylor nonchalantly waved off. "For instance, I have no idea how you created this Tibanna gas. I suppose a better word would be, reverse-engineer. But this weapon, combined with the designs I have of Kid Win's Spark Pistols and Armsmaster's Plasma Halberd, I am quite sure I can now create my own version of a plasma weapon, despite it not being part of my speciality."

There were more blank stares. "What!?" Uber shouted again. "Are you like Dragon? Can you make Tinkertech based on others?"

"Oh it's not Tinkertech." Taylor answered. "At least, not entirely. See, Tinkertech is not just highly advanced technology. Do you think I could've actually programmed my prosthetics on my old laptop? Or do you really believe that Leet or any other Tinker could actually constrain photons into a hard light form? That is not advanced technology, that is the breaking of physics. And the breaking of physics is required in the construction of such technology. And this reality breaking aspect of Tinkertech is not something that I can replicate. However! In recent days I have been working on what I would call my partial-Tinkertech."

"Partial-Tinkertech?" Leet asked back.

Taylor nodded. "Indeed. For example, knowledge to create lasers has been around since the sixties. However, it is the efficiency and portability of the energy sources and focusing lenses, along with other various constraints, that limit the creation of handheld, mass producible laser weaponry. Tinkertech however, bypasses all of those limitations by the sheer fact that it is physics breaking bullshit. The tradeoff there being, as we all know, only Tinkers can build and maintain their Tinkertech. What I seek however, is a merger of the two paths. In the case of lasers, keep the energy sources and lenses Tinkertech, but replace the rest of the parts with highly advanced, non-physics breaking technology in order to reduce the cost and maintenance time of the Tinkertech. Such as replacing high conductive carbon for copper. This dramatically increases its replicability and reduces Tinker upkeep from something required daily to instead required weekly or even monthly. This is all in exchange for a reduction in power and reliability of course. Such is the sacrifice when working with sub-optimal material. This process is how I am currently able to outfit so many of my Skitarii and Guardsmen at once with their weapons. Simple really."

"Wait, simple?" Uber let out a humorless laugh. "If it's so simple, why has no one else done it? Why hasn't Dragon or Armsmaster been able to do it?"

"Well simple is a relative term," Taylor chuckled to herself. "While I've only met Dragon once and cannot speak for her, I do not believe Armsmaster has the same level of intelligence that I do. After all, I have the equivalent knowledge of PHDs in multiple engineering and scientific fields. And this knowledge base is only growing by the day. If I wanted to construct a non-Tinkertech neodymium inertial confinement fusion reactor, it would be a simple matter of acquiring the resources and fabricating the parts. I am not being arrogant when I say I am most likely the smartest person in the entire world right now.

"And in the same way that my intelligence allows me to substitute parts of my own Tinkertech to reduce upkeep, this knowledge also allows me to substitute Tinkertech out of my speciality with existing science and technology. Combined with my own Tinker powers, I believe I could functionally reverse-engineer and replicate any of your tech, Leet. Or anyone else's Tinkertech for that matter."

Taylor then placed the E11 blaster rifle back on the table. "For this weapon here, perhaps if we replaced this Tibanna gas with hyper compressed hydrogen, and changed out the Xciter with something I could build with my powers, perhaps a miniaturized fusion reactor similar to what I use to power my armor, then I could create my own plasma weapon. Though I envision one that is far more damaging with a lower rate of fire than what I've seen in the Star Wars film."

Uber's eyes narrowed on Taylor. "Okay, so you're not exactly replicating Leet's tech. You're just so fucking smart that it's easier for you to reverse engineer and make your own tech based on his. But I don't get how this helps you semi-mass produce it. Even if it's only partially Tinkertech, it's still Tinkertech. And reduced Tinker maintenance is still Tinker maintenance. How are you able to maintain all of your Skitarii and Guardsmen's equipment, and the Tinkertech of anyone you sell to?"

"Very good question, Uber." Taylor smiled at him. He was sharper than she anticipated. "First, the non-Tinkertech parts could be maintained by any engineer or technician with the necessary electrical engineering knowledge. The few Tinkertech parts would have to still be maintained by a Tinker, either myself or another. But, I have ways to enhance the speed of such maintenance."

Part of the reason that Taylor could expand her Skitarii numbers so quickly was that when they were mind-slaved to her, Taylor could control them as if they were her own body. And she quickly discovered that this meant she could perform Tinkertech maintenance through their bodies with little to no issues. Combine this with the fact that her multitasking abilities let her control all of her dozen Skitarii at once, she could build and maintain Tinkertech at a rate twelve times faster than any other Tinker. A number that would only grow as she built more Skitarii.

Although having the Skitarii work on their own technology was a waste of their time and potential. They were soldiers, and having half their number focus on maintenance and repairs while the other half fought was horribly inefficient. She needed to create a new kind of cybernetic servant. One dedicated to maintenance, repairs, and other cognitive functions.

"Can you also understand my tech?" Enginseer interrupted Taylor's thoughts as looked at her. "Why have you not mentioned this before?"

Taylor nodded. "I have been able to understand your technology as well, but I believed that was for… other reasons." Taylor also hypothesized that her neural connections to Enginseer gave her better understanding of her Tinkertech specialization. While she can't come up with designs like Enginseer can, she can easily analyze and reverse engineer the designs Enginseer has made. "Regardless, this only further exemplifies why you are so important, Leet. I had been stuck on the creation of my own plasma weapons for quite some time, and your weapons have given me the breakthrough I need. I am excited to see what else I can learn from what you've built thus far, and what you will build in the future."

Leet could only stare unblinking at Taylor for several moments. All of this was apparently too much for his organic brain to take in all at once, and he required some time to process this. "Holy shit. Holy fucking shit!" He finally found the words and he excitedly bounced in place. "Holy fucking shit balls. If that's all true, and you can copy my tech. Oh my God then you've pretty much got rid of my main limitation! Fuck! Think about everything we can do together! I would just need to build singular prototypes of… anything really, and you just make more of them! Fuck this is overpowered as fuck!"

"Eloquently put." Taylor bluntly responded. "I take it that this makes you more interested in this partnership?"

"Interested!? To get copies of my Enterprise teleporter, or my MJOLNIR armor working?" Leet was practically jumping in the air. "Tech-Priest, believe me when I say, LET'S FUCKING GO!" He then ran to grab more of his technology from Enginseer's truck, leaving Uber, Enginseer, and Taylor to watch him run out of Taylor's workshop.

Watching his friend run off, Uber sighed and let his head hang a bit. "Okay then, this is now a thing." He patted his legs a few times, seemingly amping himself up before he looked back up at Taylor. "Anyway, with Leet gone, there's some other stuff we should discuss in the meantime. Like our identities and costumes. As well as my role here."

Taylor nodded. "Indeed. First, I would ask that the two of you cease your activity as Uber and Leet. While I am not a hero, I am still a Rogue and the PRT would frown immensely on me working with active villains."

"I figured as much." Uber sighed. "Well, I suppose we could do that. What would we be called though?"

"I have an idea for Leet, but as for you, I think it would be best for you to work with my Guardsmen. Perhaps market you as an elite Cape soldier who will protect the Manufactorum. With the Tinkertech arms and armor to match. I'm thinking of the names Stormtrooper or Tempestus."

Uber hummed at that idea, nodding thoughtfully. "I'd be lying if I said the idea of being a real life Spartan-II isn't cool as fuck. Though calling me Stormtrooper in a town with literal Nazi's isn't exactly a good idea."

"Indeed," Taylor said dryly. "Tempestus it is then. I have a design for a suit and weapon you can use, and we can speak with Sergeant Merrick about your training regimen." Taylor ran her eyes up and down Uber's body. "Physically, your body is already at a high level of fitness, but as with all things, you could be improved upon."

"Training regimen? Improved upon?" Uber's face pulled back as if Taylor had just insulted his entire family. "Tech-Priest, my powers let me master any skill I focus on, right? What kind of training would I need to go through?"

Not even bothering to resist the urge to sigh, Taylor shook her head at Uber. "Uber, have you not been paying attention to the last five minutes? When my enhanced intelligence is combined with my powers, the result is synergistic to say the least. I have studied your streams, and your powers are not as broad as you let others believe. While it wouldn't be to the same magnitude, if you were to become an expert in combat related skills without your powers, you could then focus powers on more, esoteric, skills."

Uber scowled, seemingly unconvinced. "Like what?"

"If you master the basics of marksmanship without your powers, then you can use them for more advanced branches of soldiery. Such as sniping or stealth. Or if you broaden your base martial arts and hand to hand capabilities, then you can use your powers for adjacent skills like parkour or acrobatics to give you an edge in combat."

Uber opened his mouth to protest, but then shut it, thoughtfully looking up. Good.

Not wanting to lose the momentum she had on him, Taylor continued. "Head back up the stairs and meet with Sergeant Major Merrick and Lieutenant Mira. I want you on patrol with the Guardsmen as well once your armor is complete."

"Lieutenant Mira?" Uber pulled another annoyed face. "That chick who called me and Leet a pair of misogynistic man-children?"

Taylor shrugged. "You did beat up quite a few women in that Grand Theft Auto stream."

Uber groaned as he let his head fall back in exasperation. "That was one fucking stream," he muttered under his breath. He then looked back up at Taylor defiantly. "Besides, you fucking kidnap people and turn them into Borgs. You can't exactly take the moral high ground here."

"Into what?" Taylor asked, irritated. "I am not taking any high ground, just stating facts. I know what I am and accept it, and I care little for the opinions of others. If Mira's comments hurt you so, either grow a thicker skin or change yourself to prove her wrong. I care little either way, so long as you work with her." She then shook her head. "And stop with the pop culture references, it is a waste of my processing power to have to look up everything you say."

Quietly grumbling out a small, "Whatever man," Uber shook his head and walked to the exit.

Now with only the two of them alone in the basement, Enginseer turned to her leader and said, "It appears things are moving in your favor, Taylor."

Taylor allowed herself a small nod. "Indeed, Arcana. But not moving fast enough. Uber and Leet will only stay for as long as the money is good. Which as it stands, is not very long at all."

"So you will go through with it then?" Arcana asked as she gave a thin smile.

"Yes. I will accept Coil's deal. If we want to pay Uber and Leet, expand the Manufactorum, and begin construction of our latest designs, we need Coil's resources."

"Tempestus you mean." Arcana said, smirking at the fact that she got to correct the hyper intelligent Taylor. "And what name will you give Leet?"

"Something far more respectable for a member of our Manufactorum. A name that also encompasses all he is capable of doing. Like, Aristan, or Errant." Taylor shrugged as she waved her hand through the air. "Something in that vein."

"Suitably vague, but appropriate." Arcana bowed her head slightly. "But back to Coil. I agree this is the best path. I've estimated that the Chimera alone will take over a million dollars to build, if we attempt to gather all of the supplies through legal channels. If we wish to expand our arsenal of weapons to now include plasma and arc weaponry, we will need his funding."

Taylor nodded her head. "I will also reach out to the PRT again. While they may not be interested in my cybernetics, perhaps they will be more open to semi-mass-producible las-weaponry."

"Planning on selling to both sides?" Arcana smirk deepened at the deviousness of it. "Risky, but potentially well worth the reward. And to be sure, you are not dissuaded by Coil's status as a villain? He controls downtown, and you will not be able to buy him off like Uber and Leet. Despite her annoyingly noble view, Lieutenant Mira does have a point. If your goal is to remove the gangs from Brockton Bay, you will come into conflict with Coil eventually."

"Coil is indeed a villain and we would be fools to put any kind of trust into him. But I am willing to lower myself to working with him for his money. As it stands, we are not strong enough to face down Coil. We are not strong enough to face any of the other major gangs in Brockton Bay." Taylor leaned forward, placing both hands onto the table. "Coil will be funding his own destruction. And we need his money if we want to save not only Brockton Bay, but the world itself."

That proclamation drew a surprised look from Arcana. "The world? A city is one thing, but attempting to save the world is quite the escalation. What has caused you to change goals?"

"Knowledge is both a power and a curse, Arcana." Taylor said softly. "I have connected several hundred gigabytes of RAM within my mind to background processes examining global issues. Climate change, world hunger, Endbringer attacks. It originally wasn't for any reason beyond potential challenges that we as a group eventually try to create solutions for. However, there was a pattern in the numbers. A greater picture that began to unveil itself as I devoted more and more processing power to decoding it." Taylor lifted her head up and looked Arcana right in the eyes. "In a hundred years time, the world as we know it will end"

Arcana stared at Taylor, not saying anything for several seconds. Curious as to what she was feeling, Taylor used her data tether to look into Arcana's mind and see what she was feeling. Despite her own emotional dampeners, Arcana was feeling an alarming mixture of fear and confusion.

After a few more moments, Arcana was able to marshal her emotions and asked, "The world ending is very vague. What do you mean by that?"

"The Endbringers will indeed bring the end." Taylor answered flatly. There was no room for emotions here, just simple ruthless calculus. "At their current rate, within twenty years humanity will be reduced to a fraction of its current size, most likely around two thirds of the current global population by my analysis. With the destruction of cities, the population will condense, forming pockets of civilization which the Endbringers will then attack. And that is without considering the potential of a major crisis such as a nuclear winter or the destruction of all clean water on the planet. But even without them, occurrences of Parahumans are on the rise, and continuing to grow exponentially over time. And where there are Parahumans, there is conflict and the resulting destruction. After the twenty year period, humanity will continue to decline, reducing by a further fifty percent every following decade, until we as a species are functionally extinct."

Arcana paused again as she let this new information wash over her. "That is… sobering. Do you think anyone else knows this?"

"Perhaps." Taylor shrugged. "The data I used to come to this conclusion is public knowledge. Merely… spread across the vast tracts of data on the internet. Any Thinker of high enough rating, perhaps even a true precog would be able to come to the same conclusions that I have. I would be shocked if the PRT or Watchdog has no knowledge of this."

Letting out one final sigh, Taylor felt Arcana strengthen her own emotional dampeners, reducing her feelings as she let the cold power of logic take her over. "So what are we going to do about it?"

Taylor smiled. She would even say she was proud of her acolyte. "The plan does not change. We can do nothing to save the world if we can't even save a city. For now, we focus on Brockton Bay, but we shall keep the knowledge of the end of the world above our heads like the sword of Damocles, and every action we take shall be dedicated to preventing it." Taylor leaned in closer to Arcana. "Humanity has been chosen by the Machine God to be its people. And we shall not fail it by letting humanity fall."

Chapter Text

Interlude 1, Sophia

Saturday, February 19th,

Sophia Hess twisted in her cell, gritting her teeth as she toyed with the pair of handcuffs around her wrists. She considered trying to shift into her shadow state and pass through the cuffs, but she knew that was a bad idea. She didn't need a Tinker rating to see that Armsmaster had made these cuffs especially for keeping her restrained. They weren't just regular handcuffs, but instead some kind of Tinkertech shackles that doubled as bracelets and had some kind of current running through them to specifically counter her abilities. Fucking prick.

She sighed. Sophia was done for, she fucking knew it. With the state Hebert was in when they found her, it was no wonder that Piggy decided to drop the hammer of God on her. Sophia frowned at the memory of Hebert. Despite how much she hated the fucking weakling, especially for ruining her life, even Sophia couldn't help but wince at the thought of what they did to her. Emma just wanted to push Taylor into becoming strong, into growing a fucking spine and biting back. Instead, they left her to rot and get half eaten by bugs.

The campaign of terror you have committed is nothing short of devious, cruel, and outright villainous. The words of the judge who sentenced her rang in her ear, almost making her want to slam her fist against the cell wall. She wasn't a fucking villain! Sure, she wasn't the fucking shining poster girl Ward the PRT wanted her to be, but she'd much rather be her badass predator self who did what was necessary to keep society running rather than one of those nose-in-the-air pussies.

Meanwhile Taylor was just another sheep. A weakling. A victim who didn't have the strength or guts to fight back and take what she wanted, no matter how much she or Emma fucked with her. If it wasn't for Emma, Sophia would've never even taken notice of the fucking geek. But despite all of that, how much Taylor pissed her off, even Sophia had to admit that when she saw the images of Taylor's body after she was pulled out of the locker by the EMTs, even she didn't think Taylor deserved that. It was just supposed to be a short prank to scare her. They never meant for it to go that far.

Sighing, Sophia let her head hang back, leaning on the wall of the cell. Great. She was so bored she was starting to get introspective. At the very least she was being kept in the nicer, padded holding cells of the PRT HQ, rather than a regular concrete one in the police station or something. A buzz in the cell stole her attention.

"Sophia," the voice belonged to Miss Militia. "May I come in?"

Sophia shrugged. "Not like I have much of a choice."

"You always have a choice." Sophia could hear the frown in Miss Militia's voice. "If you don't want me to come in, then just say so. But you haven't heard any updates about what's going to happen to you, correct? Nor have any of your teammates come to visit. Even you must be getting lonely."

"Fuck no, I don't need those pussies." Sophia snapped. There was a brief pause as Sophia actually took a breath in. "But… I do want to hear what's going to happen to me. So fuck it, come on in."

With a pressurized hiss followed by the sound of the nearby solid metal door sliding open, Miss Militia entered the cell. Sophia didn't say anything as the heroine entered. Militia was in costume of course, those tight fitting army fatigues that showed off her tits way too much. Fucking PR. Rather than saying anything, Sophia just glared at Militia as she took a few steps and stood near her bed.

"How are you doing, Sophia?" Miss Militia began.

Sophia scoffed. "Oh God, spare me the fucking small talk. Just tell me what you came here to tell me."

She could see Miss Militia's frown behind her American flag bandanna. "Your special accomodations in the North Brockton Bay Juvenile Detention Facility are finally ready. You're being transferred tomorrow, and there you will be kept under constant supervision for the next ten years. I could say congratulations on not getting the Birdcage, but in all honesty, you're only a few steps below it. You'll also get to keep your bracelets to keep you from using your powers."

"Joy," Sophia muttered out with as much sarcastic spite she could muster, which at this point wasn't actually all that much. She was more tired than anything. "Any other good news you want to deliver?"

Miss Militia gave a small sigh. "There's not much else to say. You already know that with good behavior, you could get out within five years instead of ten. Mr. Barnes is attempting to appeal, but from the looks of it, that won't go anywhere." Miss Militia shook her head. "At the end of the day Sophia, you made your bed, and it's time for you to lie in it. I'm only sorry we couldn't help you become a better person, and that we couldn't stop you before you maimed that poor girl."

Sophia considered cursing at Miss Militia, or flipping her off, but in all honesty, she just didn't have the energy to. "I… it wasn't supposed to go that way," was all Sophia could say.

Miss Militia gave Sophia a look that she swore was pity. "But it did. Intent doesn't matter when the result is so egregious." Miss Militia shook her head. "At the very least, you seem to show some regret."

That caused a spike of anger in Sophia. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You think I'm some kind of fucking psychopath or something!? Some kind of villain?"

Miss Militia's silence was telling.

"I'm a fucking hero damnit!" Sophia shouted out, to Miss Militia, to herself, Hell even to God. To anyone who would listen really. "How many wannabe E88 gangers have I put in a cell? How many Merchant or ABB dealers have I pulled off of the street? Hell, you know I was Piggy's magic bullet against Hookwolf and Lung! I am not a villain! That shit with Hebert, it… it was just a fucking prank." Sophia's words petered off as she felt herself deflate. Even she knew she didn't really have an argument here.

Sighing, Miss Militia turned around and began walking away. "If I see you in the future Sophia, hopefully you'll have changed for the better."

Watching Miss Militia leave, Sophia just shook her head before resting back against the padded wall. She was just… too tired to keep arguing and fighting right now. So she decided to just wait for her transfer.

Sunday, February 20th…

Sophia rocked in her seat as the armored car transporting her ran over what was probably a pothole.

Watch the fucking road, Sophia thought as she grit her teeth. While she wasn't completely restrained Hannibal Lecter-style within the cab like she'd seen other captured Capes, the back seats in the armored car she was belted to were still just pieces of metal with very little in the sense of comfort, so her ass was already sore from each bump they drove over.

Her eyes flicked across to the fully armored PRT trooper in front of her. Sophia swore she'd seen the guy around the headquarters before, but to be honest all of the faces of the regular troopers just blended together for her, especially with that pseudo stormtrooper look they were going for. If the trooper was discomforted by the ride at all, he didn't show it. He just sat there motionless, his con-foam launcher not raised, but ready to be at a moment's notice. Fucking robot. Not like Sophia could even use her powers with these electrified shackles around her wrist, so what was the point of putting that guard dog there?

The truck hit another bump, this one must've been larger because it actually sent Sophia off her seat a few inches, not unlike a student sitting in the back of a school bus when it hits a pothole. Sophia landed hard in her metal seat, sending a small wave of pain that started at her butt and radiated through the rest of her body.

This time, she did curse at the driver. "Hey fuckhead! Watch where you're driving!"

Unsurprisingly, the driver did not respond. Sophia scoffed and looked at her guard, ready for whatever bullshit admonishment he'd give her. But there wasn't one. Instead, the guard had two fingers to his ear, no doubt talking to someone over his radio. A stance that Sophia took many times when she communicated to the console as a Ward.

Within a second, Sophia's mind shifted to fight or flight, ready for violence. And she was lucky she was, because not even a moment after, something slammed into the side of the armored car. Something big. Sophia screamed as she felt the armored car get taken off its wheels and thrown onto its side. The only reason Sophia didn't brain herself on the inside of the cab was that she was still buckled in with a safety harness that went over both her shoulders.

She couldn't say the same for the guard across from her.

The man, wearing his full armor and containment foam launcher on his back, decided to not use a seatbelt so he could sit with his weapon at the ready. Unfortunately for him, he was now bouncing across the truck's interior, ragdolling around as he slammed into every possible face of the truck's rear.

SMACK!

Sophia's head snapped back and hit the back of her seat as the guard slammed into her as the truck continued to roll. Sophia couldn't count how my times the truck flipped over and over and over, until it eventually settled on its left side. The right side of the truck where Sophia sat was now the ceiling, leaving Sophia dangling from her harness, half cognisant of where she was.

The sound of a heavy THUD against metal snapped her out of her stupor. She was in combat now, and couldn't spend anymore time lazing about. A second THUD on the rear door of the APC sent a flood of adrenaline through Sophia's system. She saw the imprint of a fist from the last impact on the door.

Sophia twisted in the seat, trying to pull herself free before whatever was trying to break in accomplished its goal. She glanced at the PRT trooper who was in the cabin with her. He didn't look outwardly injured, his armor no doubt protecting him from the worst of the blunt trauma, but he was dazed as he stumbled up to his feet, hand clutching the side of his armored head.

"Hey asshole!" Sophia shouted at him, drawing his attention. "Let me out of these cuffs before whoever that is breaks through!"

The sound of another fist hitting the rear door of the APC drew both of their eyes. This time, there was a high pitched screech as the metal around one the hinges split in half.

"Hurry!" Sophia pleaded with the trooper.

The trooper looked at her, contemplating what to do behind his faceless visor. And to Sophia's horror, he turned away from her and instead chose to level his containment foam launcher at whatever was about to open the armored truck.

Sophia was about to unleash a tirade of curses at the trooper when a final impact hit the truck's rear entrance, knocking the doors off their hinges and exposing the two of them to the outside world. What was on the other side of the door was nothing less than an actual monster.

It looked like some kind of gargoyle, at least 8 feet tall of rippling muscles, four wings, and a monstrous, bat-like face. Sophia wondered what the Hell she was looking at. Some kind of biotinkered monstrosity? Or maybe a Changer or even a Case-53.

The trooper didn't seem to take as much time to question what was attacking them as Sophia did as he immediately aimed his containment foam launcher at the monster. However, when the trooper pulled the trigger, nothing came out. He looked down at his weapon, and saw that in place of the containment foam launcher, he was holding a mailbox.

"What?" Was all the trooper had time to say before the gargoyle opened its mouth and filled the truck with some sort of black smoke.

Almost immediately Sophia and the trooper began coughing violently. Choking back tears as snot and spit came out of her mouth, Sophia began to feel consciousness leave her as the gas filled her lungs. Sophia fought. She fought tooth and nail and she tried to force herself awake. She even called upon her powers, the threat of suffocation overriding her fear of the shackles as she transformed into her shadow state. She received 50,000 volts for her efforts.

The electricity forced Sophia back to her normal form, and knocked any fight still within her completely out of her body. With one last, sputtering breath, the last sight Sophia saw as consciousness left her body was two capes entering the truck, the first a tall man wearing a black suit and top hat, and the second, a girl in black body armor emblazoned with a red sun.

Coil sat at his desk, waiting for the Travelers to return with his latest acquisition. On his computer monitor, he watched as the van carrying the team of vagabond villains pulled into his underground complex. The mission had gone swimmingly. The Protectorate didn't assign a hero to Shadow Stalker/Sophia Hess' transport because they didn't think that any villain would try and break her out given the fact that no one should've known a cape was on that truck to begin with.

Coil's kidnapping of Sophia would most likely key the PRT into the fact that they had an intelligence leak within their operations, and the PRT may even be able to find a few of his moles. But unless they suspected his civilian identity, which Coil took an extraordinary amount of precautions against, Coil's main source of intelligence, himself, should be safe.

Despite that, Coil still did not drop his "safe" timeline, where he didn't send out the Travelers, yet. He wouldn't until Sophia Hess was completely secured and sedated within his complex and he was absolutely sure the Travelers were not followed.

Coil continued to watch his screen as the Travelers moved from the van to the garage elevator with the unconscious Sophia in tow, who was currently held by Genesis' gargoyle form.

The team entered the elevator and stood awkwardly, unknowingly watched by Coil as they descended into his lair.

"This was a terrible idea," Sundancer finally said after a few seconds of silence.

"A little late for regrets now, Mars," Trickster snapped at her, scolding but not overly harsh. "This is our best shot at helping Noelle, so be quiet and let me handle this Coil."

"She has a point, Krouse." Ballistic said in a hushed tone. "We've gotten this far by staying under the radar. Busting PRT prisoners isn't exactly my idea of staying under the radar."

"And your talking isn't exactly my idea of being quiet," Trickster said, this time harsher. "Accord said this guy can help us, and this is our first job here in the city. The PRT may not know it was us who hit their convoy yet."

The rest of the Travelers grumbled in discontent, but didn't vocalize their unease anymore. Coil nodded, happy that the team of mercenary Capes was still unified under their leader Trickster. And so long as Coil continued to dangle potential help for his partner Noelle, he would have the Travelers loyalty.

While Coil would've preferred to bring in the Travelers when he had a more concrete way to treat the monstrous woman, but at the very least he had the resources to keep her contained until he could find a way to help. But with the lightning bolt that was the Tech-Priest appearing in the Bay, who was so rapidly establishing herself as a power, Coil needed more muscle. In his opinion, the Undersiders, combined with his other freelance Capes, and mercenaries could potentially be enough to browbeat Tinker, but it would be a slogging, violent fight that would leave his organization crippled.

Maybe he could hire Faultline, but that would be difficult as they preferred not to work within Brockton Bay itself. He could give them some tips about the Vials, but would prefer not to draw Cauldron's attention, nor the attention of their boogeyman.

Regardless, Coil needed heavy hitters if he wanted to fight against Tech-Priest. But should Coil get his way, he wouldn't even have to fight against young Taylor. Coil had spent a significant amount of time ensuring that Tech-Priest would have as limited financial support as she possibly could.

It was a simple task for the owner of Fortress Construction Thomas Calvert to put pressure on the city to reject Tech-Priest's bid to repair the ferry. And as a former PRT Consultant and Strike Commander, it was similarly easy for him to push against the adoption of Tech-Priest's cybernetics and other Tinkertech ideas into the local PRT and Protectorate. Although even without him, the exorbitant costs of cyberizing injured troopers with Tinkertech combined with Emily's fargone bias against those with powers, the PRT would've never even considered accepting such a deal.

But attacking Tech-Priest's money was only the first step. Coil had no doubt that Tech-Priest had the capabilities of finding funding elsewhere given enough time. There was always the chance that she would gain enough of a reputation that the rich and wealthy would actually come to her for enhancements, getting new knees or spine supports so they could ditch the canes and play golf again.

Not to mention that organizations such as Toybox or perhaps even the Elite, who would no doubt enjoy expanding into Brockton Bay and gaining a powerful Tinker such as Tech-Priest, would be more than happy to throw money at the girl should she come onto their radar. And Coil would not allow that to happen.

Having Trainwreck leak the information about Tech-Priest to the Merchants was a risky play, but one that was paying dividends. Just a few hours ago, Commander Thomas Calvert received a notice that the Merchants attacked Tech-Priest's base, the Manufactorum, as she called it. Tech-Priest seemingly repelled the attack, but suffered somewhat grievous injuries in the process. That was good. The young girl should now be realizing how vulnerable she was, even with her squad of Tinkertech equipped Veterans protecting her.

Not to mention the Merchant's attack on the Manufactorum this night had provided an excellent distraction for the Travelers, as the Protectorate's heroes were too busy responding to that be of any help to the attacked prisoner transport.

And a final, additional victory was earned with the fact that that Trainwreck was now back in active Coil's employ, rather than a spy. Coil could keep the boy as a bodyguard and enforcer at his base, but perhaps he might assign him to the Undersiders. He wouldn't play well with the Undersider's focus on mobility, but they did need some heavier hitters. Something to consider later.

Regardless, with this attack Tech-Priest will realize she will need not just funding, but allies as well. Ones who will be willing to step in and help protect her from the threats within the city. And Coil would be more than happy to fulfill both of her needs.

Coil smiled as the Travelers now made their way to his office with their prisoner in tow. Things were all going according to plan, and Sophia Hess still had a part to play in his plan as well.

Interlude 2, Parian

Monday, February 21st…

Today was a normal workday for Sabah. She had a few customers, some students from Arcadia who wanted a dress for an upcoming dance, and a rich socialite who needed a dress for the opening of some new art exhibit at the Forsberg Gallery. While only a handful of clients wouldn't be much for most other businesses, with how much Sabah charged per dress with her powers, that was more than enough for her to say today was a good day.

Glancing at the clock, Sabah saw it was about 4:30 pm, and she was the only one still in the store. With the amount of profit they were going to make, Sabah decided to send her employees home and go close early. She already turned the store sign to, "Closed," and just needed to finish up her sketch on the designs for one of her dresses before she was going to lock up, go up stairs, and hopefully finish some homework for her Parahuman Study course.

A ringing of the bell hanging above the door signaled its opening. From behind the store counter, Sabah sighed.

"I'm sorry, the Dollhouse is closed," Sabah called out. She couldn't see the entrance directly from her seat as some racks of fabric and mannequins blocked the way.

Whoever entered the store didn't seem to pay Sabah's words mind as she didn't hear the door reopen, and instead she heard heavy footsteps approaching the counter. Her eyes narrowing behind her mask, Sabah subtly reached for her powers, grabbing more than a few needles and rolls of fabric behind the counter. She kept them low, as she didn't know if this was an attack or just an overzealous customer. Which, she supposed, was a kind of attack of its own. Soon enough, the offending intruder walked around one of the racks of fabric and revealed themselves. And Sabah almost screamed then and there.

It was a Cape, obviously, judging by the fact she wore some kind of gas mask that covered the lower half of her face. Her left eye had some kind of lens over it, and her long, curly black hair flowed out of a red hood she wore atop her head. The hood descended down her body in the shape of a simple robe, covering up what looked like power armor. Obviously some kind of Tinker.

"Hello there," Sabah said, trying very hard to keep her voice steady as she grabbed onto more needles. She was praying that this Cape was a customer and not there to cause trouble.

The Cape regarded her for a moment, before slightly bowing her head. "Greetings. You are Parian, I presume?" The Cape's voice was a strange synthesized one overlaid by static. Sabah nodded, so the Cape continued. "I am Tech-Priest, a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Tech-Priest held out her right hand to shake.

Sabah didn't move to shake it. "Hello Tech-Priest. Yes, I am Parian. Forgive my rudeness, but what are you doing here? I said, the store is closed. If you want to do business, please come during our operating hours."

Tech-Priest put her hand down. If she was insulted by Sabah not shaking it, or her less-than-cordial introduction, Tech-Priest didn't show it. "Yes, my apologies. This was the only time I could come, and your website said you would be open at these hours. I promise I come with no ill intentions." Tech-Priest, then raised both hands into the air in a gesture of peaceful surrender.

Sabah looked the Cape up and down. She saw no obvious weapons on her, but when dealing with Capes that was a next to pointless observation to make. But besides that… Sabah felt like this Tech-Priest was telling the truth. She seemed rather earnest with her intentions, if a bit graceless with her introduction.

"Yes well, normally you would be correct, but I decided to close up shop early tonight," Sabah said as she relaxed her grip on her needles. "Regardless, you are here now, so how can I assist you today?" Might as well see what the weirdo Cape wanted.

"Thank you for your understanding." Tech-Priest bowed her head slightly. She then grabbed the side of her robe and pulled on them slightly, lifting up the hem. "And I am here because I desire improvements to my costume, amongst other things. I made this costume out of what I had on hand, and it worked for a while, but now I would like something more… respectable."

As she said this, Tech-Priest then disrobed, pulling the robes off her body. Parian wasn't too nonplussed by the action however, as Tech-Priest still had her power armor below the fabric and was about as far from naked as possible. Tech-Priest then handed the bundle of cloth to Sabah.

Sabah moved to grab the fabric and turned it over in her hands. Her eyes widened as she realized what she was holding. "Is… is this a Christmas blanket?"

Flipping the inside of the robe out, Sabah saw the words, "Have A Happy Ho, Ho, Holidays!" embroidered into the fabric.

"Indeed it is." Tech-Priest nodded, completely unembarrassed by the origins of her costume. "It served my purpose thus far, but as I said, now that I am trying to become a more respectable figure within the Cape community, I thought that I should get a costume to reflect that."

Sabah stared blankly at the Christmas-blanket turned superhero costume for a few more seconds before she simply nodded her head and said, "Right, okay. Well, to be honest, this probably has to be one of the worst homemade costumes I've ever seen."

Tech-Priest didn't seem to take offense to her comment as she snorted. "Unfortunately, my powers did not give me an inherent sense of fashion knowledge."

Allowing herself a small chuckle as well, Sabah brought a hand to her chin to focus as her powers summoned a new sketchpad to her. "Right so, do you have any ideas of what you want your new costume to be?"

Tech-Priest nodded as she then reached into her armor and produced a sheet of paper. To Sabah's surprise, it was a highly detailed picture of Tech-Priest's desired costume, expertly drawn as if sketched by a master designer. Sabah's mouth dropped behind her mask as she stared at the artistic masterpiece in front of her.

The general idea of the robe stayed the same, a simple, full body covering, but rather than being plain red, it had a bone-white trimming with a gear-teeth motif along the edges. The fabric split at the sides of the legs, shifting more into the design of a medieval surcoat. And rather than the simple hood that connected to the top of the tunic, it was redesigned to a large coif that draped over Tech-Priests shoulders. It was a good start, and an extremely good sketch. But Sabah did see some parts which she thought she could improve on, areas where the designs on cloth were too gauche, or could be pulled back to be more utilitarian. Parian definitely saw doubling down on the techno-Gothic theme would look good on Tech-Priest though.

"I thought you said your powers didn't teach you fashion design," Sabah muttered out.

If Tech-Priest took note of Sabah's shock, she didn't make any outward reaction as she said, "They did not. But it is not a difficult task to set my prosthetics or even my servo arm to an automated task of creating a preprogrammed sketch. Not unlike a printer. But that is irrelevant. This is just the first design I came up with before coming here."

Sabah decided to skip over the Tinkertalk that Tech-Priest didn't seem keen on explaining and instead jumped to the second half of the sentence.. "First design?"

Tech-Priest nodded. "This is only my costume. I have… another Cape who has recently joined my organization that will require a costume as well, and I also wish to bulk order simpler robes to put on my… combat drones."

At these words, Sabah looked up from the sketch. "You want to dress up your robots in robes?" Sabah honestly found the idea kind of cute.

Tech-Priest huffed as she crossed her arms. "For someone whose store is literally called the Dollhouse, you have little room to talk."

Sabah put both hands up in placation. "Sorry, I was not trying to be rude. If anything, I think dressing up any robots you make would be a good idea. The right clothing would make anything you make seem less…" Terrifying, she thought was an apt descriptor for Tech-Priest's design sense. "Intimidating," was the word she said out loud, however.

"Or more." Tech-Priest mumbled out. She then nodded her head and lowered her arms, relaxing her pose. "Regardless, shall we get started going over the other designs then, I wish to buy in bulk as quickly as I can."

"How many costumes will you need?" Sabah asked while mentally calculating how many robes she could make a night.

"I would like five by the end of tomorrow night," Tech-Priest said with no inflection on her voice. "But in total I would like thirty."

Sabah froze at that. "And you'll pay up front."

Tech-Priest paused and stared at Sabah for a bit, probably doing calculations in her robo-brain or something. After a few moments, Tech-Priest nodded. "For the five. The rest however, I will pay upon their completion."

"Hmm." Sabah thought for a moment. "Half up front and half upon completion." It didn't miss Sabah that Tech-Priest didn't even ask how much the costumes would be. The Tinker must've been pretty rich.

Tech-Priest paused for a moment, before she nodded. "That is agreeable."

"Very good. Alright then, let's get started," Sabah said as she pulled out a sketchbook to start spitballing ideas for multiple different costume ideas alongside the strange Tinker. Sabah was thinking red trench coats for the robots.

Interlude 3, Rachel

Tuesday, March 1st…

Walking her dogs was one of the few pleasures Rachel Lindt still had in the city. Staying in the loft all day was an impossible task, given the fact that Alec and Lisa pretty much both lived there full time. If it wasn't for Brian she'd have sicced Brutus on both of them months ago. Meanwhile, going out into the city was difficult since her identity was known to the outside world, and it wouldn't be hard for the cops or PRT to recognize her.

There were few places outside where she could go in the city without being potentially seen, namely the shelter she kept her other dogs at that was paid for by their team's boss, whoever the fuck that was. Otherwise she was relegated to evening and night time walks around their lair. It was all annoying bullshit, like her team kept in a cage as if she was a rabid or untrained animal. That pissed her off even more. She knew exactly what an untrained dog was, and she wasn't it.

A small tug on the leash drew her attention outward. Rachel was currently walking all three of her dogs, Judas, Brutus, and Angelica. And when she looked down, Rachel saw that Angelica, her terrier and least well behaved dog, seemed to have smelled something that interested her and she began to pull away from Rachel. Rachel let out a small, angry growl. It wasn't aggressive, but warning, not unlike the growl a mother dog would use on a disobedient puppy.

Her point was made to Angelica quickly, and the small terrier quietly fell in line with the others. Rachel nodded, and saying a low, "Good girl," as she then scratched Angelica behind the ears. That was the proper way to train dogs, warnings when they did something wrong, and positive reinforcement when they did what you wanted. Simple and easy. Far easier to deal with than people.

Rachel then looked up to see what was drawing so much of her dog's attention. About a block in front of her, Rachel saw a Cape. Rachel didn't recognize who it was, but the person was wearing a long, blood red robe over a set of armor, had flowing black hair, and wore what looked like a gasmask. The Cape seemed to be looking at a derelict warehouse up and down, inspecting it from the outside.

Almost immediately, Rachel was on guard. She was only a few blocks away from the loft. And she hadn't seen this cape around before, but she had heard a few more Cape fights in the Docks where they lived in recent days. She remembered hearing Brian and Lisa talking about it. Something about Merchants, and maybe a church? Or at least something about a priest. Bitch couldn't remember. Was this Cape one of those who were involved with the fighting?

As Rachel was sizing up the Cape, the mystery Cape seemed to become aware of her presence, and turned to Rachel in turn. The Cape stared back at Rachel for a few moments, and Rachel got the sense she was challenging her. She might've even known who she was. Rachel was about to call on her powers and sicc her dogs on the Cape, when the Cape did something that made Rachel pause.

The Cape waved at her. She waved at Rachel, before she called out in her strange, robotic voice, "Greetings! Tell me, are you a local of this area?"

Rachel stared at the Cape for a bit in a combination of annoyance and wariness. She wanted to talk. People always wanted to talk and that just pissed Rachel off to no end. But at the same time, she knew that she shouldn't just ignore a new Cape in front of her. Brian and Lisa would never let her hear the end of it. Better to suffer this pain in the ass now than that pain in the ass later.

Walking up to the strange Cape, Rachel said, "Yeah? I am. What's it matter to you?" Rachel kept her chest up and maintained eye contact with the Cape, not wanting to appear subservient.

The Cape didn't seem to take notice of Rachel's aggressive stance. "Wonderful! You may call me Tech-Priest. Tell me, do you know who owns this property? I've been trying to ascertain its proprietor, but for some reason, the records online are rather… elusive."

Rachel glared at this Tech-Priest. The fucking bitch liked using long fucking words, didn't she? But she got the jist of what she was asking. Who owned the building? Rachel turned her head to look at the structure in question. It looked like a derelict warehouse or factory building, not unlike their own lair. There were some faded words on the side. Jo- John-Sons ah- ahnd Sons, puh, Pay-Purrr, Fak-Too-Ree, she slowly read out in her mind, struggling to put the sounds to the letters she recognized.

She shook her head. "No idea," she groused. "I've walked my dogs around here plenty of times, but I've never seen anyone come in and out."

Tech-Priest didn't immediately respond, instead just humming to herself as she looked at the building thoughtfully. Rachel wasn't sure if the conversation was over, but Rachel decided she had enough as she began walking past the Cape to continue her walk.

"You have quite beautiful dogs," Tech-Priest said, interrupting Rachel before she could leave.

Rachel groaned, annoyed. "Yeah, I know."

"This one appears to be quite wounded however." Tech-Priest pointed at Angelica. The terrier was missing an eye and an ear from her previous owner.

That brought a growl out of Rachel's throat. She stepped into Tech-Priest's personal space. The Cape was taller than Rachel, but Rachel got beneath Tech-Priest's face, daring her to look her in the eyes. "The fuck is that supposed to mean? You think I abuse my dogs or some shit?"

Tech-Priest shifted her gaze from Angelica to Rachel, and did not flinch in the slightest when she met her gaze and stared back. "Abuse?" Tech-Priest genuinely seemed taken aback. "No, I mean to imply the very opposite, in fact." Rachel paused, now confused, and when she tilted her head to the side to show that confusion, Tech-Priest continued.

"Your dogs are remarkably well behaved, a sign of a good and skilled owner. A rudimentary scan with my auspex shows that all three of your dogs are in the pinnacle of health currently, which means you care for their well being. The injuries on your terrier are scarred over, showing they are quite old. A rescue?"

Rachel paused, taking in Taylor's words. Then she nodded. "Yeah. Got her about four months ago."

Tech-Priest nodded in turn. "Hmm, and so well-behaved for such a short time. May I pet her?"

Rachel's eyes flicked back down to Angelica. Angelica didn't seem to be scared of Tech-Priest, and Rachel could tell she wanted to go and sniff Tech-Priest. "Angelica's not aggressive anymore, so it should be fine. Just don't hurt her with your suit or I'll hurt you."

Her eyes flicking over to her fingers, Tech-Priest raised her hand up a bit and looked at it, before she assented. "Noted." Tech-Priest's left hand then moved to her right wrist, and after fiddling with some controls, Rachel saw her take off her gauntlet, revealing a pale, wrinkled hand beneath.

Tech-Priest bent down and began giving Angelica scratches behind the ear. Angelica's leg patted up and down excitedly.

"You know…" Tech-Priest began as she continued petting. "I could repair her eye and ear."

Rachel's eyes went a bit wide at that. "Repair? You mean make her part robot, like you?"

Tech-Priest nodded. "Indeed. My cybernetics are not limited to human biology, and besides canine physiology isn't too far removed from humans anyway. It would be easy to give her a new eye. I could make a new ear as well, but as far as I can tell her ear canal is still intact. It would mostly just be cosmetic." Tech-Priest shrugged.

Thinking about it for a few seconds, Rachel quickly decided to shake her head. "No thanks." She had no idea how Tinker made parts would interact with Angelica when she used her powers on the dog. They would probably just get destroyed as she changed form. "Why do you even care?"

At her words, Tech-Priest stopped petting Angelica and chose to stand. "Why indeed? I suppose it's because I may be purchasing this land soon, and I just wanted to be neighborly. I also just happen to like dogs." Tech-Priest then replaced her glove back on her hand, sealing her suit with a pressurized hiss and spinning of servos.

Rachel narrowed her eyes at Tech-Priest, trying to suss out if she was lying. She wasn't Lisa, but Rachel usually had a good sense of someone's emotions when she talked with them. If they were angry or sad or scared or nervous. That last one usually meant they were lying to her. Tech-Priest also talked a lot and used big words, which in Rachel's experience was also a hallmark of a liar. But she sensed no deception in Tech-Priest. She didn't seem all that tricky, even though she was a Tinker. Just… weird. Weirder than any of her team, that was for sure. She was probably as weird as Rachel was.

"Well no thanks." Rachel said as she began moving forward. "I need to finish their walk now."

"Yes my apologies for taking your time Miss…" Tech-Priest drawled out as her eyes followed Rachel's back. "I'm sorry, but I didn't get your name."

Rachel paused. Hmm, what should she say here? She was sure Brian or Lisa would come up with some kind of clever word play or lie to get out of the conversation without giving anything away. Though even the thought of trying to do something like that annoyed Rachel. Did she even need to lie? Tech-Priest didn't seem to recognize her, either as Rachel Lindt or Bitch. To her, she was just someone who was walking their dogs in a shitty part of town.

Fuck it, what harm could it do? "Rachel," she said before continuing down the street.

She heard Tech-Priest hum behind her. "Well, I shall be seeing you, Rachel. If you ever change your mind, stop by my Manufactorum. It would be a fun project to make something akin to a cyber-mastiff, or a cyberwolf even."

Rachel shook her head and kept walking. Weird fucking Cape.

Chapter Text

Wednesday, March 2nd…

Taylor stood at the open entrance of her Manufactorum, still as a statue as she waited for her guest. She knew she felt stress, anxiety, and worry as she waited, but was able to shut those emotions down, sealing them inside the emotional vaults within her brain. Despite everything she had been through, the suffering and violence she's had to endure over the past few months, she couldn't help but feel some apprehension from directly inviting a villain into her workshop.

Glancing around, Taylor made sure for the third time tonight that her defenses were in place. In the rafters above her, Skitarii Rangers of Kill Team Ryza stood silent vigil, hidden in the shadows with their galvanic rifles ready to fire should the worst occur. One pair, Ryza-04 and Ryza-05, manned the Guardsmen's Lascannon in case of a larger scale threat.

None of the Guardsmen were here in attendance tonight. Despite the trust that Taylor placed in them, she knew that even they would not be immune to the more than human vice of gossip. No, Taylor could not risk any word of this getting out, and so she only kept her Skitarii here tonight.

On the ground level, Skitarii Ranger Kill Team Metallica provided direct protection for Taylor and Enginseer. Tempestus and Artisan, formerly Uber and Leet, hid in Taylor's workshop beneath the Manufactorum main floor. Taylor did not want to show too much of her hand to Coil and reveal that the formerly villainous duo were now working for her. Should Coil betray the trust she was giving him by inviting him in and attack, they would strike from below.

With a final flex of her fully repaired dragon-scale power armor and Servo-arm, Taylor knew she was ready. Checking her internal cogitator's clock, she looked at the time. 12:55 am. Five minutes until show time. When the clock ticked agonizingly slowly to the allotted hour, Taylor saw them.

Three black SUVs, which Enginseer telepathically pointed out were armored against most small arms fire and small scale IEDs, drove to the entrance of the Manufactorum. The three cars parked in a row in front of the Manufactorum's doorway, idling for a few seconds. Through her MIUs, Taylor could sense the apprehension and nervous excitement in some of the Skitarii at the prospect of potential combat. With a mental flick, she squashed those emotions immediately. While such feelings were useful, Taylor didn't need one of the more excitable Skitarii breaking rank and attacking first. No, she needed complete and utter obedience.

After a few moments, the SUVs turned off their engines, and out of the first, a squad of five tall, athletic looking men dressed in all black tactical gear and full face balaclavas exited. They all had M4 carbines slung in front of them but not raised, and the guns looked to have a definite Tinkertech attachment to the underbarrel. No doubt they were Coil's mercenaries whom Taylor had heard much about.

Out of the second SUV another squad of mercenaries dismounted, all armed with the same weaponry and black masks. And out of the third SUV, came her guest of honor. He was tall, and bone thin, which was accentuated by his skin tight black bodysuit that gave no openings to show what he looked like underneath. Circling down his body, starting from his head and ending at his ankle, was a coiling snake.

Coil paused, staring at Tech-Priest for a moment, his head glancing over the various Skitarii around her. He had no obvious reaction to Taylor's cybernetic soldiers that she could tell. He nodded. As a unit, Coil and his mercenaries moved towards Taylor, stopping a few paces away.

"Tech-Priest," Coil greeted with a slight bow. "Thank you for inviting me to your abode."

Taylor gave a small bow back. Not deep enough to be subservient, but not shallow enough to be insulting. "Coil. I am pleased that you encountered no trouble in coming here."

"I would not be the successful villain I am if I did not know how to travel discreetly." Taylor could hear the smirk in Coil's voice. "But us talking in the open is not what I would categorize as discretion. May I come in?"

Seeing the logic of his words, Taylor nodded, and the Skitarii retreated to allow the group of black-clad mercenaries and their boss into the factory.

"Your offer of business has come at a good time, Coil," Taylor said as she and her entourage fell in line to Coil's left, while Coil's mercenaries shifted to his right. "I have a series of new designs and prototypes which I think you will find quite useful for you and your men."

"I am glad to hear it, Tech-Priest," Coil said smoothly. "I am looking forward to this product demonstration of yours. While I am already a purveyor of Toybox's technology, I am very interested in working with local talent, rather than a far off group of Rogues."

Taylor nodded. "Indeed. I have researched Toybox. The sheer fact that they must illegally ship and smuggle their technology across America no doubt adds to their exorbitant prices, not to mention I assume their technology is limited use? I have my doubts that any Toybox Tinker has gotten around the limitation of equipment maintenance."

"You are correct in your assumption. Weaponry I purchase from them has a limited use count, as well as a set shelf life. Once expended, I have to then purchase more. A good business practice for Toybox, and while I have more than enough funds to continue this practice, I see no reason to spend such money when alternatives are available."

"Such are the wonders of capitalism," Taylor said dryly. "Well then, tell me Coil. What specifically are you looking to buy, and what is your budget? While I can construct other devices, I myself specialize in cybernetics, and Enginseer here specializes in armored fighting vehicles such as tanks or APCs."

"I am primarily interested in Tinkertech weapons and armor to arm my security with," Coil flatly said, gesturing to a mercenary next to him. "I do not have the strength in Capes that the Empire or Protectorate can field, and thus would like my men to be able to at least hold off any Capes they come across before retreating. I am also interested in structural defenses for my own bases. And money is no object."

Taylor couldn't help but smile. Although a small part of Coil's words niggled at the back of Taylor's brain. Taylor didn't know if Coil's comment about his strength in Capes was a lie. If it wasn't then that would be a very useful piece of intelligence. She wondered if she could build a lie detector, but no ideas immediately came to her. Perhaps it was out of her speciality. Maybe Artisan or Armsmaster already had one that she could study.

Regardless, Taylor focused back on the conversation. "Very good. I have much to show you then." She then turned to her Skitarii. "Metallica-06 and Metallica-05, get me a set of the Guardsmen issue Flak armor, and the prototype Kasrkin-pattern Carapace Armor from downstairs."

The two Skitarii nodded and moved to complete their set task.

Coil seemed to not be content with the silence as they waited for the Skitarii as he said, "You know, I must say I am quite impressed by how rapidly you established yourself in the Bay. It is not a small feat considering the amount of dangers that a single cape would face."

Taylor's face itched as she recalled the 3rd degree burns she sustained when she detonated her plasma cutter to kill Mush. "Yes, I am quite fortunate that I had the funds to rapidly set my operations up. As I'm sure you're aware, most Tinkers are rather vulnerable when they first start out."

"Yes, the tragic catch-22 of Tinkers. They are the most versatile and adaptable of Capes, but are also the most vulnerable without time and resources." Coil nodded his head. "You handled yourself well so early on however. I must admit, even I am surprised with how quickly you've acquired so many… henchmen."

Taylor could hear the smile in Coil's words again.

"Indeed, I would be in a far worse position were it not for my Guardsmen and my Skitarii. They are good protectors. Loyal."

"Extremely loyal," Coil dryly said. Before Taylor could comment on that, Coil continued. "But that is the advantage of hiring former military, is it not? They have discipline and combat training instilled into them already. Far superior to your average gangbanger."

Taylor glanced sidelong at Coil, before she said, "Exactly. But, it seems that 05 and 06 have returned. Let us get back to the demonstration."

"Please, go ahead." Coil politely said as he stepped back.

Taylor had Metallica-05 and 06 set up a pair of training dummies in the middle of the Manufactorum floor. The dummies were shaped like a standard human torso and head atop a round, cylindrical base, and made of a combination of rubber and hardened polymers to try and simulate human flesh and bone. On one dummy was a set of the blocky, green flak armor Taylor produced for her Guardsmen. On the second, was the prototype armor she was designing for Tempestus, the carapace armor.

The carapace armor looked similar to the flak armor, but far more encompassing. The armor was thicker, and unlike the flak armor which only covered the torso and shoulders, the carapace armor had overlapping, interlocking plates that extended down the back and stomach, providing better flexion and protection, going down all the way to the groin and butt. Taylor also made additional armor for the forearms, thighs, and shins, but those weren't brought out.

Taylor extended her robotic hand to the armor sets, showing them off. "These are the two sets of armor which I am currently willing to sell, my flak armor and carapace armor." She stepped over to the flak armor first, calling Coil closer so he could inspect it. "The flak armor is what I armor my own Guardsmen with. Simple but effective, I would honestly even question calling the flak armor Tinkertech. It is made from multiple layers of shock absorbent fibers reinforced by ablative aluminum-oxide coated ceramic plates, with a final coating of thermal-absorbant materials. In terms of defensive capabilities, it is essentially the equivalent of a modern Type IV NIJ ballistic vest, with additional resistance to low level energy weapons and Blaster attacks. Maintenance requirements are minimal, as the only thing that is Tinkertech here is the creation of some of the materials, which I have worked into a stable metallurgical formula. At most, replacement of plates following sustained combat, due to denting from ballistics and ablation from energy attacks, but that's it."

Taylor patted the flak armor on the chest. While she originally created the flak armor using her Tinkering abilities, her intelligence allowed her to create a non-Tinkertech process of manufacturing the fibers and ceramic plates, making it simple to build on a larger scale.

"As for the carapace armor, that's where things get more complicated. The carapace armor is made of overlapping plates of a Tinkertech alloy Enginseer and I created called Ceramite. While this makes the armor far more resistant to damage than the flak armor, this also greatly increases the need for maintenance." Taylor then stepped away from the armor. "But don't take my word for it. Why don't we have a live fire demonstration?"

Taylor could see the slight quirking of a smile behind Coil's mask.

"Yes, I find that agreeable." He spoke with some genuine excitement.

"Very good. Now, let's all step back, I'd rather we not take the chance of getting hit by any ricochettes." As she spoke, Taylor directed the Skitarii to move some premade sandbags and crates into a line, creating a makeshift barricade for everyone to stand behind. Once everyone was moved, Taylor turned to Coil and said, "Now then, I assume your men use standard 5.56x45 NATO rounds in their weapons?"

Coil nodded his head. "That is correct."

"Hmm. Now, I would like you to have one of your men fire at both sets of armor, to display its protective quality."

Coil looked down at Tech-Priest for a brief moment, before he turned his head to his closest mercenary and nodded.

The mercenary in question stepped forward and raised his M4. To save their ears, he pulled out a silencer and screwed it on the end of the barrel. Flicking the safety off, he fired a three round burst at the flak armor first. The bullets slammed into flak armor, denting the metal plate slightly, but didn't come close to piercing it as the lead tips fell to the ground.

With a highly trained efficiency, the mercenary then pivoted and aimed at the carapace armor. He fired another three round burst, and this time the armor didn't bend at all. The bullets just pinged off the convex shape of the breast plate, at most just scratching the paint.

"Most impressive," Coil said neutrally.

"Thank you." Taylor stood a little bit taller. "The flak armor can protect against up to armor piercing 7.62 rounds, while you will have to go into anti-material cartridges if you want to have a chance of piercing the carapace armor." She then stepped towards the mercenary who was firing. "Now then, I would like to see how the armor stands up to your Tinkertech equipment as well"

The mercenary glanced at Coil, silently asking for permission, and the supervillain nodded. Given the green light, the mercenary shouldered his carbine once again, and flicked a switch on the underbarrel attachment on his gun. The barrel began to color, heating up to from a dull red, to a brighter orange-yellow. He depressed a button on its side and it fired off a beam of thermal energy which slammed right into the flak armor.

The flak armor held for a few moments, material burning off it, until it eventually gave way and collapsed as the beam melted through it, setting the target dummy underneath it on fire.

Taylor mentally commanded her Skitarii to put out the flames as she nodded her head. "As I anticipated. The flak armor could withstand a glancing hit from a powerful energy weapon, but fails to sustained fire. Now, the carapace armor if you please."

Nodding, the mercenary then adjusted his aim and charged the laser attachment again. He fired once more, the bream slamming into the front of the carapace armor with precise accuracy. The carapace armor heated up, glowing and slightly warping, but unlike the flak armor, it held. After a few seconds, the thermal beam petered out, revealing a scorched, but mostly intact set of carapace armor.

"As you can see, the Ceramite plating can hold up to both conventional ballistics, as well as most projected energy weapons, and by extension, many Blaster effects. It would not surprise me if that attachment of yours was the equivalent of a Blaster 4, perhaps even Blaster 5 attack, much like my own las-weaponry. But! That is not all!"

Taylor then directed one of her Skitarii to walk towards the group and reveal his prosthetic hands to Coil and his mercenaries. "These are the latest iteration of my combat prosthetics. Extremely durable, in terms of raw physical power, I would rate users of this model at a tentative Brute 2." Taylor turned her head at the Skitarii and nodded. It was an unnecessary action as Taylor could simply command the Skitarii to do it, but she wanted to make a show of it.

The Skitarii stepped towards the carapace armor, pausing once he was in hand's reach. Adopting a martial arts back stance, where the majority of his weight was on his rear leg, the Skitarii cocked his hand back by his waist. Twisting, the Skitarii shifted his body forward and threw a straight punch right into the middle of the carapace armor. The sound of the metal fist clanging against the breastplate was as loud as any gunshot, almost like someone smacked a gong.

To Taylor's satisfaction, the impact of the hit was only a minor dent in the armor, and that was it. "As you can see, low level Brutes as well would have issues hitting their way through this armor! When combined with a variety of other base-level functionalities, vacuum sealing, interactive, augmented reality HUDs, thermal and NVG functions, the carapace armor is truly the greatest possible armor you can buy short of powered armor." Taylor had the Skitarii slap the back of the armor, and give Coil a thumbs up.

Coil stared blankly at the Skitarii for a few moments, before he chuckled softly. "How charming. I will say, I am most impressed by this armor. But you say it is unpowered? Will a powered variant be available for purchase?"

Taylor shook her head. "Unfortunately, no. Making a powered version of the carapace armor will increase the price of an individual suit to millions of dollars. Not to mention such intricate equipment would take up far too much of my time maintaining."

"A shame, but understandable." Coil nodded his head. "But even so, how do you plan on maintaining any orders of armor and weapons that I purchase from you?"

"There are a variety of maintenance plans which we can do, but the easiest would be for you to either send equipment back to me when it no longer works, with payment of course, or to send in your equipment in batches for bi-weekly maintenance. Both Enginseer and I are available for maintenance, but unfortunately we alone do not make up the number required to maintain your equipment, the equipment of my own forces, as well as the production of new Tinkertech. However! I have a solution for that problem."

Taylor mentally directed Skitarii Kill Team Metallica to a series of workbenches on the side of the Manufactorum. She had them take their shouldered galvanic rifles and placed them on said tables. With uncanny synchronicity, the Skitarii all began tinkering with their rifles, adjusting internals and performing all needed maintenance rites.

"As part of my own enhancements, I can control all of my Skitarii as if they were my own body. I can see through them, process their data, and control their actions all while talking to you. And as such, I can have them, and any other cyborg under my compulsion, perform any Tinkertech-specific maintenance required, drastically reducing the workload on us, and increasing the amount of Tinkertech we can provide to you."

For the first time tonight, Taylor seemed to catch Coil off guard with her statement. While Coil was able to maintain a rather cool, unflappable demeanor throughout the night, now he seemed to look at Taylor with genuine shock. Taylor mentally took a recording of the nonplussed Coil at 12 different angles before the supervillain composed himself and nodded.

"That… is extraordinarily good to know," he said slowly. "You truly are one of the most extraordinary capes in the Bay."

"Yes, I am quite aware of how important I am," Taylor flatly commented.

Coil actually snorted at that. "You know, such arrogance is rather unbecoming."

Taylor raised an eyebrow at him. "And so is hypocrisy, Mr. Pot. But regardless, how about we move onto weapons?"

"Very well. I am very excited to see the capabilities of your armory."

"As I am excited to show them off." Taylor then commanded her Skitarii to bring out the demonstration weapons she had prepared.

There were three weapons arranged on a table in front of Taylor. First was the blocky, almost retro-futuristic looking Lasgun which Taylor had armed her Guardsmen with. The second was the flintlock-inspired Galvanic Rifle which her Skitarii were armed with. The last weapon however, was a prototype that Taylor created today based on some reverse engineered Leet tech.

The original invention Leet made was something called a Tesla Cannon, which Leet had taken from some video game no doubt, which created an almost flamethrower-like effect of short range electrical sparks that would search for nearby targets to create an arc with. Taylor had taken the Tesla Cannon, and reconfigured the coils to an internal charging system to create her first arc rifle. The general shape of the rifle was that of a regular gun, but instead of a barrel, there was a large, box-like main body. In the middle of the main body was the main capacitor, which contained several glowing battery blocks contained in a transparent casing that glew with blue light.

As the guns were brought out, Taylor's other Skitarii moved the suits of armor out of the factory floor and instead replaced them with three new training dummies. Taylor grabbed the Lasgun and hefted it to her shoulder. The way Coil's mercenaries tensed slightly wasn't lost on Taylor, but they didn't make any sudden moves besides that.

"This is my standard Guardsman-pattern Lasgun. Charged by solar cells, it fires a highly concentrated bolt of photons that deals damage equivalent to a .50 caliber anti-material round." Taylor aimed her Lasgun at the left most dummy and fired.

The bolt of crimson energy flew across the Manufactorum floor, slamming into it and immediately punching through the dummy's rubber stomach. A hole the size of a melon immediately burned itself into existence on the dummy, scorching all the way through its abdomen to the polymer spine, and out the back. The edges of the impact zone burned and melted at the sheer heat emanated.

"On its standard setting, the power cell carries enough charge for 24 shots before it must be replaced. It also comes in both non-lethal and overcharged settings, the latter of which costs twice as much energy per shot. It is a perfect weapon for use against both normal, and low-rated Brute opponents." Her speech finished, Taylor laid the Lasgun down on the table in front of her. "Unfortunately, this weapon pattern is not for sale."

Coil shifted, and Taylor could tell her words upset him. "Oh? Would you like to explain why? I would pay quite a bit to get these weapons in the hands of my men." His voice markedly was now colder.

"I'm sure you would," Taylor said flatly. "But unfortunately, the Lasgun is the primary weapon of my Guardsmen. It is as much a symbol of them as their uniform. If any of your mercenaries are seen using the Lasgun, then the entire PRT and Protectorate will know I am selling to your organization. And while I have been rather cordial with Armsmaster thus far, I would prefer he didn't kick down my door with an active plasma halberd."

Coil stared at Taylor, no doubt trying to suss out any deception in her voice, until he sighed. "I suppose that is… reasonable, if not disappointing. I hope the following weapons are actually for sale."

"It is my understanding that if someone disappoints you, it is in fact your fault for expecting too much," Taylor said as she hefted the Galvanic Rifle.

"How depressingly cynical," Coil muttered.

"How very Brockton Bay," Taylor retorted. "But to answer your question, yes, the Galvanic Rifle here is for sale. Unlike the Lasgun, the Galvanic Rifle fires projectiles. Tinkertech bullets to be exact."

Taylor then pulled the trigger. With a sound that was a mix of a gunshot and a lightning bolt, the round exited the galvanic rifle and punched center mass into the second target. This time, instead of simply burning a hole like the Lasgun, the target instead exploded in a small burst of electricity.

Ozone filled the immediate area and the lights of the Manufactorum dimmed for a second before returning to normal. Coil glanced up, before looking back down at Taylor.

"After making contact with the intended target, the bullets fired by the Galvanic Rifle convert the potential energy of all of the nearby molecules into electrical energy, creating the explosion that you saw. Very few things can resist a lightning bolt forming inside of them."

Coil seemed to mull over Taylor's words for a bit, before saying, "That doesn't seem scientifically possible."

"So? It's Tinkertech, and therefore bullshit. Besides, anything is possible through the Machine God's will." Taylor waved off Coil's words as she put the Galvanic Rifle down. She then picked up the Arc Rifle. "Now this is my latest weapon design, the Arc Rifle. The zinc-plated energy blocks here can store enough energy to unleash a deadly burst of lightning when fired."

To demonstrate, Taylor shouldered the Arc Rifle and fired. And true to her word, a literal lightning bolt burst out of the gun, crashing into the last dummy. The entire target exploded, the lightning destroying the target from the inside out. The stench of ozone and burning plastic and rubber was now overwhelming, as electrons disintegrated the dummy.

Coil took a moment to appreciate the destruction. "Very impressive."

"Yes, it is. Unfortunately the Arc Rifle is best for short to mid-range engagements, as the maximum distance the lightning can travel is far less than a physical bullet fired from the Galvanic Rifles."

"Hmm, it is indeed unfortunate, but can be worked around." Coil nodded. "You have me sold on both the Galvanic Rifles and Arc Rifles. We can discuss the amount I will purchase after we go over base defenses."

"That is agreeable," Taylor said, shutting down her emotions of excitement at securing a verbal deal of purchase. Fuck you PRT, people did want to buy her tech! "However, as I did not know you were looking specifically for defensive emplacements, I do not have any prototypes built. But I can show you designs and simulations."

"I suppose that will have to do," Coil replied. "My apologies for the lack of communication on my end. Next time I shall have a more comprehensive list of what I'm looking for sent to you beforehand."

Taylor nodded. "Yes, some forewarning would be nice." She then retrieved her laptop from the Skitarii she sent to retrieve it while speaking with Coil. Opening it up, she pulled up her CAD software and opened her latest project, the Tarantula Sentry Gun.

The base shape of the Tarantula was pretty much just a large, heavily armored, man sized cube. The cube stood on four, retractable legs, while the left and right faces of the turret were two large lascannons. The design was the first collaborative work between Taylor herself, Enginseer, and Artisan.

The base design was actually centered around an egg-shaped sentry turret that Artisan made as Leet, apparently copied from a game called Portal. Enginseer then redesigned the mechanized legs and body to something more suitable for extended combat, while Taylor then armed it and created the Machine Spirit which would drive its automated functions.

"The Tarantula Sentry Gun is something I've designed for the defense of both the Manufactorum and my own home, so you know I'm selling you something that I trust with my own life. While rather heavy, the Tarantula is a mobile, heavy weapons emplacement capable of taking on a variety of mission parameters thanks to its modular design."

Taylor clicked some keys, and the twin lascannons on the side of the sentry gun were replaced by .50 caliber heavy machine guns. Another click, and they were replaced by rocket pods. Taylor then gestured grandly to the screen.

"Lascannons for anti-vehicle and anti-Brute combat. HMGs for infantry. Missiles for anti-air. And all with the added benefit of being automated. You could leave these turrets in place 24/7, and never have to worry about a human falling asleep or getting caught off guard."

"Never is a strong word," Coil retorted. "You act as though these guns are infallible. Are they?"

Taylor clicked her tongue at Coil. "Please, you know that is not the case. Strangers or Tinkers with electronic warfare countermeasures may be able to get past them, Armsmaster would likely be able to find a workaround, as would Dragon, but against most foes you will face in the Bay, they should be sufficient."

"That is true. What about protective energy shielding? Or cyber warfare countermeasures?"

Taylor brought her hand to her chin to think. "Hmm, I have nothing I can show you at the moment, but I have been thinking about both. Give me some time and I can have plans drawn up for both of them."

Coil nodded. "I suppose the sentry guns will have to suffice. Now then, shall we talk numbers?"

Taylor guffawed. "Wait a moment, Coil. We have yet to speak of my greatest product!" Mentally Taylor commanded a Skitarii to move next to them and raised both of her hands. "Augmetics!"

Coil stood unmoving as he watched Tech-Priest direct her cybernetic soldier to the middle of the factory floor. At least, in his A Timeline he was. In his B Timeline, he was sitting back in his base while his body double performed the meeting. A necessary precaution, even if the meeting was going smoothly in both timelines, making it slightly redundant. But regardless, Coil would maintain both until after the meeting, just in case something went awry.

And in both Timelines, Tech-Priest said the same thing.

"Metallica-01, disrobe," she commanded, and in front of everyone, the cyborg soldier removed his robe and mask.

With practiced ease, Coil controlled his confusion at what Tech-Priest was doing. Miss Hebert already got him to break his facade once with her revelation of how powerful her multitasking ability was, so he was devoting far more attention to reining in his emotions.

The cyborg did as he was commanded, starting with his blood red overcoat, before removing his gasmask and the metal armor over his body. Coil couldn't help but wonder how much of his actions were those of the man the cyborg used to be, and how much were just mental commands from Tech-Priest. And when the cyborg finished disrobing, Coil's emotions shifted from confusion to disgust.

Coil was no stranger to the horrors of the world. And more than anyone else outside of her organization, he knew what cybernetic crimes Tech-Priest was capable of. But even with all of that, the sight of the disrobed cyborg caused Coil, and more than one of his hardened mercenaries, to suck in a sharp breath.

The first thing that stuck out to Coil was how much the soldier was cyberized. A torso and a head. That was all that remained of the original organic body of Taylor's cybernetic soldier. From the pelvis down to the soles of his feet, the entire lower half of the man's body was replaced with heavily armored robotic legs. The arms up to the shoulder were also replaced with bulky, Tinkertech cybernetics that looked designed to both deal and take quite a lot of punishment.

With his new limbs, the man was tall. Coil shifted his eyes over the organic parts of the body next. He had pale white skin of his torso hanging loosely over his ribs with obvious surgical scars, as well as what looked like ports and interfaces at random points. His head was shaved bald, and what stuck out the most to how dead the eyes of the cyborg was, looking forward at nothing, unblinking. No… not unblinking. Coil saw it now. Tech-Priest removed his eyelids. Coil thought that he honestly had something to learn from Tech-Priest when it came to unnerving people.

"Metallica-01 is one of the first iterations of my Tech-Guard, my legionnaires, my Skitarii. While I understand the… apprehension most full biologicals have with such a large amount of augmetics, any one of the enhancements I have performed on my soldier can be performed on an individual basis." Tech-Priest picked up what looked like a cattle prod and was using it as a pointer. She tapped the cyborg on his left leg.

"The bionics which you would be most interested in would be my limb augmetics. They have the most direct relation to combat As I mentioned before, the sheer durability and power generated by these bionics would give anyone equipped with them a minimum Brute 2 rating. And there are more benefits than just raw strength. Imagine being able to run for miles on end without suffering from fatigue, or having weapons and tools directly integrated into your arms so you will never be unarmed!" To demonstrate the point, Tech-Priest raised her own left arm and her hand twisted and flipped into her wrist while a blowtorch unfolded from her forearm and replaced it.

After showing off the tool for a few seconds, she retracted it and returned her hand to normal. "But wait, there is more than just limbs that I can offer you!" Taylor gestured grandly to the Skitarii's torso. "Their lungs have been replaced with artificial organs to filter out toxins and other harmful air. Their bodies have been filled with Autosanguination fluid for faster healing, and their neural enhancements engage directly with their goggles, integrating with the targeting arrays within their HUDs for inhuman accuracy!"

Tech-Priest stepped forward, opening her arms as if in exultation, raising them to the ceiling. "There are no limits to the potential of which I can bless your soldiers with, Coil! You say you have no Parahumans under your command? You will not need Parahumans! They are random, volatile, and unfortunately, far too human. Allow me to enhance your men, and you will have an army of supersoldiers that no other criminal organization could stand against!"

Tech-Priest was practically shouting by the time her speech finished, her chest rising up and down as she manically breathed. Coil stared at Tech-Priest and despite himself, was tempted to say yes. He was so tempted he almost considered opening a new timeline to say yes. While it would take much to convince his men to voluntarily put themselves under the knife, the benefits his organization would reap were massive.

But he couldn't say yes. Not when he knew that Tech-Priest could Master anyone she transformed into a cyborg. It would be too easy for her to turn any of his enhanced mercenaries against him should she desire it. He couldn't trust her to not have some sort of failsafe like that. Tech-Priest was far too much like him. She would make them loyal to her first, and him second. It was exactly what he would do. Even the smallest enhancements could carry any amount of trackers, listening devices, or other spyware that could be used against him.

"While your offer is tempting, I'm afraid I must say no for now." Coil bowed his head in genuine apology. "However, I have the full list of everything else I would like to purchase," he said with a smile, hoping to assuage any negative reactions she may have to his rejection of her prosthetics.

Coil could tell Tech-Priest was frowning behind her mask. She sighed. "I see. Well then, what do you wish to purchase?"

"I need to equip a full squad of mercenaries, so I want to purchase twelve sets of carapace armor, and a split of 6 Arc Rifles and 6 Galvanic rifles. Best to use weapons that you have not publically used to maintain a distance between our organizations."

"A pragmatic choice which I appreciate," Tech-Priest said. "As for the base defenses?"

"For now, half a dozen Tarantula sentry guns with the Las-cannon attachments will suffice."

Tech-Priest made a noise that Coil approximated was halfway between a grunt and the static of an old television. "Hmm. Each gun I shall sell for $25,000. The armor is $50,000 each. Each Tarantula turret is $100,000. That comes down to a total of 1.5 million dollars. Tell me, will that be in cash, or card?"

Coil almost laughed. Not at the joke, but at the sheer deadpan seriousness of how Tech-Priest delivered it. "I can have the funds wired from an offshore account which can then be discreetly moved into any account of your choosing. However, if you are willing to reduce the price to say… 1 million dollars, I have a gift for you which I think you will find more than makes up for the price difference."

Tech-Priest raised an eyebrow, curious, though definitely not amused. "Indeed? What kind of gift do you have for me that would be worth half a million dollars?"

Rather than answer her directly, Coil turned to his captain and said, "Bring them in." He then turned to Tech-Priest. "My men are approaching with an unmarked white van. Believe me when I say, it is of no threat to you, and this is no double cross, so please, do not shoot it."

Tech-Priest stared at Coil with her emotionless countenance, no doubt internally debating on what to do, until she nodded.

Smiling, Coil turned to the entrance of the Manufactorum and watched as the white van pulled in. The van pulled a K-turn, so the rear of the vehicle was facing those within the Manufactorum. When the van parked, two mercenaries moved to the rear and opened the cargo hold.

Out of the back, the mercenaries within the van pushed out Coil's gift. Twenty young men, all handcuffed and stripped of clothes save for their underwear and simple, blood-stained white T-Shirts. They all had bags over their heads, as well as gags and earplugs beneath. The prisoners stumbled out of the van, the blind and bondaged men forced to slowly feel their way out.

The mercenaries pulled the lead prisoner up by the crook of his arm, revealing that each of the prisoners were in turn chained to him one after the other. The prisoners were organized into a single file line. Some curled in on themselves, trying to make themselves as small as they could to avoid being seen. While others tried to thrash in their bonds, trying to take swings at the mercenaries whenever they were touched. They were rewarded with rifle butts to the stomach and back of the heads until they calmed down.

"What is this?" Tech-Priest asked after taking in the scene before her.

"My gift," Coil said matter-of-factly. "Let us not dance around the subject any longer. I am aware of where you procure recruits for your Skitarii. And not only am I okay with this, but I wish to support your endeavors."

Coil then produced a USB drive out of a pocket. "This thumbdrive contains the police records of every man here in front of you. I know that despite everything you have done, you do not act against the innocent. Therefore each person here is a criminal, former members of the E88, ABB, Merchants that my men have captured, in addition to a few other degenerates. They are all wanted for various violent crimes, robbery, assault, murder, even rape, so you can work on them without regret."

Tech-Priest took her time as she looked over the prisoners, her eyes casually dissecting each one. When she finished, she barked out a laugh and said, "You truly are a shrewd businessman, Coil. You not only weaken your enemies, but strengthen relationships between our two organizations in one move." She then took the USB stick from Coil's hand. "You have a deal."

"The first of many, I hope," Coil swiftly added.

Tech-Priest nodded her head. "Indeed. I foresee quite a productive relationship between the two of us."

Chapter Text

Saturday, March 5th…

Amy trudged her way through Brockton General's hallways, shoulders slumped and eyes heavy as she felt the weight of her shift. She wasn't even supposed to be here today, but she couldn't stay in the house with Carol at home and Vicky spending all day on the phone with Dean.

A day of healing one gunshot wound, two workplace accidents, one STD, and a case of eczema was only marginally better than that. Sighing, Amy made her way to the nurse's station where she filled up on her 3rd coffee of the day. As she filled the paper cup with the liquid, caffeinated gold, a noise from reception drew her attention.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but like I've already said, I don't have any more information I can give you! Now please, you're disturbing the other patients!" Amy heard Cindy, the receptionist for this ward, cry out.

Amy sighed. It sounded like there was another rude and unruly patient that they'd need to call security on.

"And as I've already said, that answer is not satisfactory!" The static hiss of a familiar synthesized voice shouted back at Cindy. "I desire to speak to your superior!"

Amy almost dropped her coffee as she listened to the argument. Taylor!? What the fuck was she doing here and why was she harassing the hospital staff?

Rushing towards the reception area, Amy ignored the calls from nearby nurses who told her to slow down. When she got there, she saw exactly what she had been expecting. Taylor, in her blood-red robes and power armor, towering over the terrified receptionist Cindy, who looked to be on the verge of tears, alongside a crowd of onlookers who gawked and recorded the whole altercation.

"Tech-Priest!" Amy shouted, drawing all eyes to her. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh thank god, Panacea!" Cindy cried out as she rolled her chair to Amy as fast as she could. "Do you know this crazy fucking Cape?" she whispered.

Amy glared down at Cindy, causing the receptionist to run away from her as well. Where did this fucking bitch get the right to call Taylor crazy? "Yes, I do know her," Amy said as naturally as she possibly could, which was only as caustic as hydrochloric acid. "She's a friend." Amy then looked back to Taylor. "One that I would want to know what she's doing here."

Taylor huffed as she straightened out her robes. "Am- ahem, Panacea. It is good to see you." She gave a small bow to Amy. "I am only here because I wished to ascertain the reason why this medical facility rejected my offers of the sale of medical Tinkertech. Something that this… varlet, seemed intent on keeping me from."

"Varlet?" Cindy parroted, the question also on Amy's mind. "I wasn't keeping you from anything! I just don't know what to tell you, and you don't have any appointments with any of the hospital's board! You can't just barge in here and demand to see them!"

At Cindy's words, Taylor stepped forward and growled. "Listen here, you mewling meatbag. I-"

"Tech-Priest!" Amy shouted, cutting her friend off. When Taylor's head snapped to her, Amy sighed. "Look, why don't you stop harassing the staff, walk with me, and we can talk about whatever…" Amy waved her hand vaguely in Taylor's direction, "This problem is."

Taylor locked eyes with Amy, no doubt evaluating what to do, but Amy wasn't going to back down. The hospital was her turf Goddamnit, and she wasn't going to let Taylor cause any more of a scene here. "That is… agreeable, Panacea. Lead the way." Taylor shuffled past the reception desk and moved towards Amy.

"Wait! You can just let her wander the hospital!" Cindy cried out after Taylor.

Amy sighed. "We'll be going to the roof. Away from any patients and anyone else Tech-Priest might agitate. If anyone complains, tell them they can take it up with me after I'm done."

Without waiting for a response, Amy led Taylor deeper into the hospital. She took the cyborg into a nearby stairwell and brought her to the hospital roof, silently glad Taylor didn't make any more scenes on the way up. Once they reached the roof, Amy shut the door behind Taylor and sighed.

"Okay Taylor. What the Hell is going on here?" She asked, unable to keep the touch of irritation she felt out of her voice.

Taylor huffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest in vexation. "Very well. I shall start at the beginning. In an attempt to diversify my revenue streams, I reached out to Brockton General and several other local hospitals to see if they would be interested in purchasing some of my more analeptic inventions, such as my Auto-sanguination fluid or my Diagnostor. But these Board of Directors," Taylor spat the title out like a curse. "Say they cannot just purchase Tinkertech from any Cape off the street. That my technology needs to be 'peer-reviewed' and 'thoroughly tested' before they're fit for actual use. Bah! Fools wouldn't even understand the first thing about my technology if they had years to review it amongst their peers!"

Taylor threw her hands up into the air in frustration. To Amy's surprise, the robot arm that was connected to Taylor's backpack flailed into the air as well. Amy thought the reaction was cute.

Forcing a cough to clear her mind, Amy then crossed her own arms as she said, "I can see the problem. And it sounds like the same one you had when Vicky and I last talked to you about PR. I guess you haven't had much success on that front then?"

Taylor snorted derisively. "No, I have not. You were there when Armsmaster rejected my proposal for the ferry. I have not had much of an opportunity to make a name for myself since, and I have been forced to… alternative means to fund my research."

Amy pursed her lips. That sounded sketchy as Hell. She hoped Taylor wasn't doing anything too dumb to get her money. Like working with villains. But Amy knew Taylor was too smart to even consider that. "Yeah Armsmaster could be kinda a dick."

Rather than immediately responding, Taylor seemed to deflate at Amy's words, losing some of the fire in her. "No, Armsmaster is not to blame. He was merely the messenger for his foolish superiors. If anything, I actually find most interactions with Armsmaster to be rather positive. There are few in the city who can truly appreciate the efficiency of the machine like he can."

Frowning, Amy pushed aside a strange sense of jealousy she felt at Taylor's statement. Armsmaster was probably old enough to be either of their dads, and being jealous about a professional relationship between him and Taylor was fucking weird. Instead, Amy focused on trying to solve Taylor's problem. If she did that, maybe Taylor would see her as a more valuable friend than Halbeard.

"Oh uh… have you tried talking to Dragon?" She offered up the only advice she could think of.

"Dragon?" Taylor repeated, almost recoiling in disgust at the mention of her. "Why would I wish to speak to her?"

Amy's eyes narrowed on Taylor. "You know for, someone who has IQ of like, 300, you can be pretty fucking dumb sometimes."

Taylor returned the gesture towards Amy. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Bringing her face to her palm, Amy sighed. "Okay, so your scheme with the ferry failed. Boo-fucking-hoo. And right now you still don't have any legs to stand on PR-wise, save for the fact that people know you can defend your territory well. But you know what Tinker has PR in spades? Dragon, you idiot.

"Dragon is famous and her Tinkertech is used everywhere. The Protectorate and the Guild use her computers, and she's the one who manufactures and maintains containment foam, amongst other things. Long story short, governments and people trust her nearly implicitly."

"And you think I should leverage her as a resource to spread my own technology." Taylor followed up.

Amy had to resist the urge to say, 'duh.'

"Yes, exactly." She opted to say instead. "Dragon is the world's greatest Tinker. No debate there. Hell, I even heard rumors that she can copy the Tinkertech of others. If that's how her powers work, giving her some of your tech to analyze and either approve or reverse-engineer would go a long way to establishing your reputation as a Tinker."

Taylor made some kind of unamused grunt. "Given enough resources, I'm sure I can create machines as wonderful as Dragon can," Taylor said, almost petulantly. "I can even reverse engineer Tinkertech as well. How come she has such free reign with her technology when I do not?"

Amy held back her own surprise at Taylor's admission that she could reverse engineer Tinkertech too, filing the information in the back of her mind. "What part of, world's greatest Tinker, do you not understand? It doesn't matter if Dragon is or is not the actual world's greatest, everyone thinks she is, IE PR! And you can't brute force your way through PR and politics, Taylor. Dragon's reputation has been built up over years, and I'm sure when she started out, no one trusted her either. It's just something you're going to have to deal with."

Amy could see the mental conflict within Taylor dance across her face. After a few seconds of internal agony, Taylor eventually sighed. "Perhaps you are right. I should speak to that naive fool of a woman again."

Again? Naive fool? What!?

"You've already met Dragon?" Amy breathed out.

Taylor waved her off. "Yes yes, during my registration with the PRT. Your mother was there too. The meeting did not go too well. Dragon and I did not see eye to eye on the issues of my cyberization," Taylor hissed out the words before she straightened out her robes to calm herself. "But, perhaps we can put that behind us for a better partnership in the future. Regardless, that is enough of my issues. How are you doing, Amy?"

The question froze Amy, who only gaped at Taylor. "What? You're actually asking me how I'm doing?" That was a first. Every other time they'd talked, Taylor was so single mindedly focused on her technology and Cape life that she never seemed interested in just, casual small talk.

Taylor tilted her head at Amy. "Yes? Is that not how conversations work? Reciprocal questions in order to foster deeper emotional bonds?"

"I…" Amy felt her brain short circuiting. "I guess you're right. And… I don't know. I guess I'm doing fine."

Taylor raised an incredulous eyebrow.

That sent a wave of annoyance through Amy. "What's with the look?"

Taylor gave a small shrug. "What is with the lie? My auspex can see obvious signs of sleep deprivation, high stress, and anxiety within you. Extremely high cortisol levels and a below average size hippocampus are not usually something you'd see within someone who is, 'doing fine.''"

Amy's jaw dropped open, scandalized. "Don't… You can't just scan me without my permission! That kind of stuff is private! That's unethical, if not outright illegal! And, and…" And completely fucking right. "And… I guess I'm just tired."

When Taylor didn't respond, Amy just continued. "It's just… I know helping people here at the hospital is the right thing to do, but… it's just so tiring. I'm tired of healing Mr. Johnson for the third fucking time this year because that old asshole keeps slipping and breaking some bone. I'm tired of treating hypertension and heart attacks for fat fucks who think eating at Fugly's and McDonalds every day is a good fucking idea. I'm tired of healing obvious gangbangers who the police can't arrest because they're the 'victim' or there's 'lack of evidence' I'm…" Amy sighed and let her head hang. "I'm just tired of having to do good here." I'm tired of having to be a hero. But if I'm not a hero, what the fuck am I?

"Right, do good." Taylor's words dripped with sarcasm, even through the static overlay.

Amy's eyes snapped up to Taylor, her gaze vicious. "Now what the fuck does that mean!?" She hissed through teeth grit so hard Amy thought she might crack a molar.

"What that means is that I think you are wasting your time here," Taylor retorted with absolute conviction. She continued before Amy could respond. "You think you are doing good here by returning people to their base, fleshy states? I say you are at best, torturing yourself and teaching them to embrace mediocrity. To embrace weakness."

Amy couldn't help but laugh at Taylor's statement. "And what do you think I should do then? Send every patient here to you to get robot arms and legs? Newsflash Taylor, but if you don't understand despite constantly getting rejected by the PRT, most people do not want to be cyborgs!"

Taylor glared at Amy. "Well most people are fools," she hissed back, her voice icy. "But we are focusing on you. Tell me Amy, realistically, how many people do you save every month? Even if you worked yourself to death, you would save a few hundred, perhaps a few thousand? What is that number but a small drop in the bucket of humanity? What is that compared to the millions that die around the world from warfare, starvation, and the Endbringers? Spending time saving the individual is pointless. Not when the whole of humanity is what must be saved."

Amy could feel the righteous anger at having her life's work be called pointless as she took in the sheer magnitude of what Taylor spoke about. "People aren't pointless…" She muttered, her voice lacking the conviction she knew it should've had. "And besides, if I wasn't healing, what would I be doing, huh?"

"Well that would depend on you, wouldn't it?" Taylor gave a shrug. "What else can your powers do?"

"Just heal." Amy's response was curt and her voice was hard.

Taylor raised an eyebrow. "Truly? That's it?"

"Yes." Amy's face was as hard as granite.

Taylor seemed to frown behind her mask. "Hmm. Well if that is the case, perhaps you could come work for me then. Your powers would accelerate the rate at which those who undergo cyberization adjust to their augmetics."

Now Amy raised a brow. "So you want me to stop healing at the hospital so I could go heal for you?" Her voice was incredulous."What happened to individuals being pointless?"

"You misunderstood my point. Every enhanced individual I make is one step closer to my eventual goal of saving humanity. A step forward. Meanwhile, every person you heal is simply a step in place."

Opening her mouth, Amy was about to tear into Taylor for her hypocrisy, when a flash of inspiration struck her mind. Amy couldn't help but find working for Taylor to be something she actually wanted to do, instead of something that was forced upon her. She could possibly do some minor gene editing on Taylor's patients. And if Taylor was okay with that, then maybe she'd let Amy perform some of the more extreme modifications she'd been having ideas for. Violently, Amy shook those thoughts out of her head.

"As… tempting, as that sounds. I'm sorry Taylor, but I can't just leave New Wave and all of my other responsibilities," Amy sighed, her voice now quiet.

Taylor huffed, seemingly annoyed but not insulted by her rejection. "Indeed. I suppose that is fine. Well if you do not wish to join me yet, would you be interested in coming over next Saturday? I have another set of enhancements I wish to implant in myself, and I would like you to aid me."

Despite the argument the two of them were just having, Amy couldn't help but perk up at Taylor's invitation. "Really? What are you looking to add on now?"

"I seek to replace my remaining organic arm with an augmetic." Taylor raised her right hand to show it off. "In addition I have a further set of cranial enhancements for my brain."

Amy nodded her head. "Right. Well, like I said before, I can't help with the brain surgery, but I can monitor and help with everything else."

"Very good. Now then, my business here is concluded. I shall see you next week." Taylor abruptly turned about face and made for the stairwell.

Amy gave a small wave to Taylor's back, and when the Tinker left she muttered, "Bitch didn't even say goodbye." She sighed. Well it's not like that really mattered. And she knew she didn't enjoy being with Taylor because she was pleasant company.

No, Amy liked Taylor because the girl was an outlet for her. A way for Amy to scratch that weird, hind part of her brain that screamed at her to do more with her powers. Meanwhile she knew that Taylor was just using her for quick access to easy healing so she could modify herself more and more.

Theirs was a strange relationship. She knew that there had to be some kind of psychological name for the fact that they were both parasitically taking advantage of each other, but she didn't know what it was called. But something niggled in the back of Amy's mind when she thought about this.

What if Taylor didn't need Amy's healing anymore? During their conversation, Taylor seemed decidedly unimpressed over the fact that Amy said she couldn't do more than heal. And eventually, Taylor had to reach a point where she either couldn't add any more augmetics to her body, or she wouldn't need Amy's help to do so.

Not to mention she was also building medical Tinkertech. What would happen if Taylor made a machine that could heal just as well as Amy could? Then Amy would become completely obsolete and Taylor would never call her again!

That couldn't happen! Amy wouldn't let it. But how would she stop it from happening? The only obvious thing that Amy could think of would be to Biotinker something for Taylor. Come up with something beyond the, "base, human flesh," as Taylor would describe. But… no Amy couldn't do that. She knew that as soon as she made one thing for Taylor, it would break the oh so very dubious dam of self control she maintained over herself. She knew she wouldn't be able to stop and that the PRT, Protectorate, and Carol would all be calling for her head.

But… What about blueprints? She could come up with some designs, or just ideas that she could try to pass off to Taylor, to see if the Cybernetics-Tinker could fabricate a mechanical version of her ideas. Maybe Taylor could even make some kind of Synthetic flesh or organs. It had to be possible! After all, cybernetics is adjacent to Bio or Wet Tinkering.

And while it repulsed her to make the comparison, both herself and Taylor's powers were uncomfortably close to Bonesaw's powers, and it wouldn't surprise her if Bonesaw could Tinker up super organs or brain enhancements similar to what she and Taylor could make.

Amy licked her lips. Okay, she could do that. Just some ideas and blueprints. That way, she could get these ideas out of her brain and make Taylor realize just how useful and important she could be. She grinned. One week. She had a week to come up with these designs, and excitedly realized that she probably wasn't going to spend much time at the hospital in the upcoming days.

While she maintained her belief that the work she did was good and heroic, she didn't have to spend all her time here. And now she had something perfect to do to fill the time when she wasn't here or at home. Her grin grew wider as more ideas for human modification came to her mind. Oh she was going to have some fun.

Tuesday, March 8th…

"Kill team Graia! Front and center!" Taylor shouted calling her newly ascended Skitarii squad to her.

Kill Team Graia walked forward and stood at attention. These ten Skitarii, converted from half the number of criminals Coil had given her, were of her latest design, the Skitarii Vanguard. Whereas the Ranger-pattern Skitarii were hooded hunters, moving in the shadows to pursue their prey, the Vanguard-pattern were just that, vanguards who would charge forward and meet the enemy directly in combat.

In comparison to their Ranger cousins in Kill Teams Ryza and Metallica, the Vanguards were more heavily armored, overlapping plates of Tinkertech-alloy covering their red robes, and instead of hoods and gas-masks, they wore specialized combat helmets which Taylor designed after the Renaissance-era sallet. These smooth, rounded helmets had a single, narrow slit for the eyes, which were actually connected to an advanced HUD, not blocking any of the Vanguard's sight, and were also sealed against all types of gasses and other airborne-toxins.

For now, Taylor armed these Skitarii with the same Arc Rifles she sold to Coil's mercenaries, as well as armed the Vanguard Alpha with an Arc Maul, a bludgeoning fusion of a morning star and the taser goad Enginseer had previously developed. Taylor had envisioned some other potential upgrades to make these Skitarii more effective in hand to hand combat, she was thinking perhaps sonic or even radiation based emissions. She put a pin in that latter idea however. She did not want to tempt a kill order just yet.

"Graia-01," Taylor called out, and the Alpha Vanguard stepped forward. His sallet helmet had a horizontal facing half cog above the helmet, not unlike a futuristic version of the crest seen upon Roman centurion helmets. "Take your squad and begin your patrol. Do not be seen."

"Understood, prophet," Graia-01 bowed his head, and led his squad out of the Manufactorum's back door.

With a nod, Taylor turned away from them and checked her internal cogitator for the time. It was about 10:30 AM. Her followers were going to be here at 11, so she needed to make sure all her ducks were in a row. After all, Kill Team Graia was only half of the criminals that Coil had gifted to her.

Moving down into her personal workshop, Taylor sealed the vault door behind her. For the last few days, she had let no one outside of her Skitarii enter here. Out of her Capes, she'd only trust Enginseer with what she was working on down here.

Taylor knew that her powers affected her mind somehow, giving her a sense of priorities and boundaries that others found abhorrent. But as it stood, Taylor didn't care. She liked the way she thought. The mind the Machine God gave her.

But after talking more with Amy, even Taylor had to admit that the perception of others played a greater role in her success than she'd like. Of course, she already knew this, that's why she kept the Skitarii hidden as best she could, but even the Skitarii could potentially pass off as soldiers willing to fight for her under employment. Her current project however? No one that wasn't data tethered to her would accept what she had done.

"Greetings servitors," Taylor said, her voice even more dispassionate than normal.

They couldn't understand her. She knew that. She stripped almost all brain functions that would relate to social interaction from their minds. In front of her, were the 10 other criminals that Coil had gifted. They were all placed in wheelchairs, their heads completely shaved as large amounts of cybernetics protruded out of the sides of their skulls. The first half of their number had their limbs replaced with various power tools, while the rest were given more advanced cranial circuitry with wires of many types extending out of the base of the neck.

Now, Taylor's sense of morals let her justify her own actions and atrocities to herself quite easily. But there were still crimes that Taylor found so reprehensible that she refused to ascend these criminals to the rank of Skitarii.

Taylor looked through the criminal records of these 10 men. Rapists. Pedophiles. Sex Traffickers. These men had a criminal history which disgusted Taylor and she would not give them a chance for redemption through service as Skitarii. Instead, Taylor lobotomized them, and turned them into servitors, a servant class of cyborgs dedicated to non-combat tasks. Taylor, her other Tinkers, and the Skitarii were becoming far too busy to waste time on maintenance, and thus made the first half of the servitors were maintenance servitors.

The maintenance servitors had their limbs replaced with multi-tool arms containing plasma torches, drills, claws, and other such devices necessary for the maintenance of Tinkertech. While they would have nowhere near enough intelligence to perform any meaningful maintenance on their own, Taylor could easily use her enhanced cogitation and multi-tasking ability to possess the servitors and perform whatever tasks were needed. These 5 would form the backbone of her assembly line to maintain the equipment of her Capes, her Skitarii, her Guardsmen, and Coil's mercenaries.

Meanwhile, the rest of the criminals were converted into cogitator servitors dedicated to cyber warfare. Taylor knew that other Tinkers had stronger software specializations than she did, Dragon most of all. Amy was right. As it stood now, Dragon was a better Tinker than Taylor was, which meant that if Taylor wanted any chance to survive any intrusion attempts from the Canadian, then she'd need the power of brute force computing. Each cogitator servitor was essentially a bionic supercomputer that was given enough intelligence and autonomy to follow Taylor's commands unsupervised. Not only could they perform security tasks such as hacking, DDoS attacks, and other such things, but also monitor and patrol the internet itself, primarily PHO, as web trawlers. Not only would they alert Taylor if anything important regarding her or the Manufactorum is flagged, they would also patrol the Dark Web and other questionable sites, looking for criminal activity which Taylor could act upon.

However, regardless of how useful both types of servitors were, Taylor knew that only a handful of each would not be enough. As Taylor continued to expand, she would need more servitors for these non-combative roles. But there were only so many heinous criminals for her to take. Would she have to resort to lowering her standards for servitorization? Or perhaps she could come up with an alternative. Such as vat-grown clones or something. Food for thought.

Over the next 15 minutes, Taylor finished connecting the cogitator servitors to the internet. They groaned as their minds were flooded with gigabytes of data and they began their pre programmed routines. Taylor had just begun the process of activating the maintenance servitors, when her communicator activated.

"Boss," One of the newer Guardsmen said. "Your 11 o'clock is approaching the base."

Taylor grunted in acknowledgement, dropping the power-clawed arm she was working on. "Understood. Thank you, Guardsman."

Standing, Taylor made her way towards the ground level of the Manufactorum, sealing her workshop behind her. When she arrived on the main floor, she saw her subordinates stride into the main room.

Leading the trio was her undoubtedly loyal Enginseer, the first and most trusted of her acolytes. While she still wore her own set of red robes, she now also donned her own set of power armor and a servo-harness on her back. Behind her trailed Artisan and Tempestus.

True to his new role as one of Taylor's Tinker's, Artisan wore a set of blood red robes with bone white cog trims, although the set that the former villain Leet chose to wear was slightly oversized for him. Unfortunately, Artisan refused to get any augmetic upgrades, so he was still completely flesh, although he wore a gas mask similar to the Skitarii, which gave him the same augmented reality HUD and enhanced vision that Taylor naturally had with her cyber-eye. Much to Taylor's annoyance, Artisan also wasn't wearing any armor, often complaining it was an annoyance to put on when they weren't going to fight.

Finally, next to his best friend, Tempestus rounded out the trio. Armored in the pseudo-knight plate of his carapace armor, Tempestus looked very much the role of a futuristic supersoldier that he and his best friend often played. In order to match the color scheme of Taylor and the other capes, the fatigues Tempestus wore under the armor were blood red, while the armor itself was a gunmetal gray with white trimming. His helmet was fully enclosed by a rebreather, and two, circular lenses that glowed a similarly intense crimson as Taylor's own eye.

"Tech-Priest," Enginseer said, first to greet as always, followed by mumbled pleasantries from the others. "You called for us?"

Taylor nodded. "Yes I did. I have two reasons for doing so. First, I wished to get a report on each of your projects. Tell me Enginseer, how is the Manufactorum's expansion progressing?"

Enginseer stood up taller now that she was called upon directly. "The city has finished their approval of your purchase of the old Johnson and Son's Paper Factory building. That place had been derelict for so long, the city practically gave it to us."

"Very good. I shall hire another group of Dockworkers to clear that building out immediately." Taylor grunted. "Have you procured what equipment you require?"

Taylor felt Enginseer mentally connect to the Manufactorum's network and check what files she needed. "The first purchase is complete. A hydro cutter, hydraulic press, three more mills and lathes, a plethora of welding equipment, as well as a forklift and an overhead crane."

"And will this be enough for you to complete your first prototype?" Taylor flatly said.

Enginseer shrugged. "This will be enough for the construction of my vehicles, yes. I'll have more than enough space and resources to make the prototype of my Chimera APC without running into any issues. But as it stands, I can only create it, and any further vehicles, by hand. For an assembly line factory production? We'll definitely need to expand even further."

Taylor felt a flash of annoyance run through her but she quickly squashed. "We don't have the funding for that yet, but this will be a good first step. If we can secure clients with your designs, then we can look into further expansion." Her head then snapped to the Artisan, who was hunched over and nervously twiddling his thumbs. "And what of you Artisan? Have you finished cataloging your equipment for replication?"

Jerking back, Artisan stumbled out of his mouth, tripping over his tongue. "Uh umm yeah Boss. I've been taking the time to look at what still works, and besides the plasma gun that you've already been working on, the most impressive inventions of mine I think are the solid hologram projector, my Mjolnir armor, and the combo cutter."

The boy then looked up at Taylor, waiting to see if she had any questions. Instead, Taylor simply nodded her head, gesturing for Artisan to continue.

Artisan cleared his throat. "Yeah, so the solid hologram projector is pretty self explanatory, it creates hard-light holograms that can interact with the world around. Not only can it create physical objects, like swords and shields, but it can even simulate physical effects, like concussive force from bombs or heat from fire. Pretty much like the Danger Room from X-Men."

The reference flew over Taylor's head, and she didn't feel like devoting any processing power to pulling up what he was talking about. Instead she said, "So, in order to compensate for your inability to create duplicate inventions, you created a device which could produce a plethora of similar, basic inventions en masse. Smart."

Artisan stood a little bit taller at Taylor's words. "Yes! I mean, yeah, it's pretty much been the most important invention of mine for months. Almost all of our shows, from Legend of Zelda, to Mario Kart, and even that one Bomberman stream we had planned, all use it to some degree."

Taylor hummed. "Yes well, sounds like a very promising start. I have yet to see any examples of hard-light technology from any other Tinker in the bay, so this projector will be invaluable. At the bare minimum, I can imagine I can create personal energy shielding with it, if not even creating holographic, digital weaponry as well." She then turned to Enginseer. "If I can reverse engineer this shielding technology we will also need to see about integrating it into both our vehicles, and the Manufactorums. Steel, brick, and concrete are only so strong, and I would want as much protection from potential assault as possible.

Enginseer bowed her head. "Power supply will be a concern with such a scale, but I can look into this."

Taylor grunted. "An issue we can deal with another time. And what of the other inventions you mentioned, Artisan?"

"Well the Mjolnir mark V armor is the main set of power armor Uber used during the Halo stream we did, as well as whenever we really need to have a big fight. It's only partially functional right now, the energy shielding is busted, and it's not as strong as the in-game version, but it's still tough. I know you have your own suits of power armor already, but didn't think it'd be a bad idea for you to get a look at another and draw some ideas." Artisan shrugged. "Meanwhile the Combo Cutter is a sword that actually gets stronger the more you swing it. Kinda like how getting repeated hits in hack-n-slashes builds up a combo meter makes your melee hits stronger."

Taylor looked at him strangely. "And how does that work?"

She could see Artisan smiling behind his mask. "Well, pretty much it's a High-Frequency blade which uses the kinetic energy from the momentum of swings and impact of hits to build up a reservoir of potential energy within the blade. That potential energy is then converted to hyper-fast sonic vibration which helps break down molecular bonds. The more potential energy there is, the faster the vibration, the more effective the blade is."

Bringing her right hand to her chin, Taylor took in the information. "Hmm, yes, high frequency, transonic technology would definitely be a worthwhile avenue to explore to enhance our melee weaponry." Taylor nodded her head, satisfied. " Very good, Artisan. With that done, I have another task for you. I wish for you to create more weapons."

Artisan cocked a brow behind his mask, crossing his arms incredulously, "More weapons? What are the plasma, laser, and lightning weapons not enough for you?"

"No, they're not," Taylor answered immediately. "While those weapons are indeed powerful, in terms of Tinkertech, they are rather conventional and would be expected. Your speciality however, lets you go beyond the predictable, if you just use your imagination. I wish for weapons the likes have never been created before by any Tinker. Exotic, archeotech that defies all logic and physics, that no one will ever see coming. Technology, that will truly carve you out as one of the greatest Tinkers in the world. Can you do this for me, Artisan?"

At her words Artisan's arms dropped in awe at her words, mouth agape behind his mask. "... Yeah. Yeah! Yes! I can do that! Definitely Boss, I'll get you something never seen before! I was already looking at some anti-gravity tech for jet boosters, but I could probably convert that into a kind of gravity gun!"

Taylor smirked behind her own mask, satisfied. She turned to Tempestus. "And what of you, Tempestus? How goes the training?"

Tempestus stood ramrod straight, not unlike the same stance that Merrick and the other Marines would take when they stood at attention. "Training goes well, Ma'am. Sergeant Major Merrick, has been putting me through the paces. He says I can move and shoot almost as good as any Marine, though he says my CQC still needs some work."

"You don't use your powers to strengthen your hand to hand skills?'

Tempestus shook his head almost violently. "No Ma'am. As you said, I'm focusing on developing my skills without the use of my powers. And Sgt. Merrick would have my hide if I tried to use my powers during training."

The amount of fear he showed told Taylor that Tempestus apparently tried, and failed, to do that with the Sgt. Major. "Very good. It would be pointless for you to use your powers through these lessons. Have you learned how to augment your new combat prowess with your powers yet?"

"Yes Ma'am. I can use my powers to build up on the base of fundamentals the Sergeant Major has been building for me. Right now, I can sharpshoot with the best snipers if I use my powers, and the Sergeant Major thinks once I learn the basics of each field, I'll be as good as any professional combat engineer, EOD tech, or combat medic if I focus my powers on anyone of those skills."

"As I anticipated," Taylor nodded. "Continue your studies. If you wish, I could install some cranial circuitry into your brain to accelerate the process of learning. The more basic skills you learn, the more advanced paths your powers will have access to."

While Taylor couldn't see Tempestus's face, she could see his body recoiling slightly at her suggestion. "With all due respect Ma'am, I think I'll stick to the old school way of learning for now."

Taylor made a noise in her throat that was half a grunt, half a growl. She still failed to understand what kept Tempestus and Artisan from accepting her gifts. But, at the end of the day, Taylor didn't wish to impose her will completely over the two former villains. Despite the despicableness of their past behavior, they were middling, minor villains at best. And while people were definitely hurt by their actions, in Taylor's opinion, they didn't deserve a forced mind wipe like Squealer and the other Merchants and various gang members did. She just wished that they would be more receptive to the blessings of the Machine God. Oh well, that would hopefully come with time.

"If that is all you wish for updates, Tech-Priest," Enginseer cut in now that Tempestus' update was over. "What is the next reason you wished us to come here?"

Taylor stood up and smoothed her robes, putting her annoyance out of her mind. "Yes, indeed. I wish all of you to take a look at this." Reaching into her robes, Taylor pulled out the latest issue of the Brockton Bay Gazette, and laid it on a table in front of the others.

"Really? A newspaper?" Artisan muttered under his breath.

On its front page, the headline read, "New Parahuman Threat?" The three leaned in closer, to inspect the article itself.

"At approximately 3:00 am on Sunday, March 6th, a warehouse owned at 121 Waterfront St. was attacked by an unknown Parahuman." Tempestus said out loud.

Artisan picked up where his friend stopped. "Follow up investigations by the police revealed that the warehouse was actually a front for the E88, Empire Eighty-Eight, gang, where they would store illegally imported firearms."

Enginseer finished off the paragraph. "4 employees alongside 8 suspected E88 members were killed in the attack, killed via electrocution, leaving their bodies charred to the bone. Additionally, PRT investigators have found what looks like electrical scorch marks at various locations in the building. They ask that if anyone has any information on a potential Electrokinetic cape, or if they notice any strange electrical fluctuations, to call the PRT hotline." Enginseer looked up from the paper and back at Taylor. "Electricity based deaths. I suppose it could be an Electrokinetic…" she trailed off.

"Or more likely," Tempestus said. "It's Coil, testing out the Arc weapons you gave him"

"Sheesh." Artisan exhaled, running his hands through his hair. "Coil must really put a lot of faith in your weapons if he's poking Kaiser." He then turned to Tempestus. "Isn't there a saying out there, about letting sleeping dogs lie or something? Or in this case, sleeping Nazis?"

"There is indeed," Taylor answered instead. "And I know for a fact that this was Coil. After all, he sent me this newspaper, alongside his compliments for how effective the weapons are. In addition to this, he wishes to meet again for more negotiations. Coil seems interested in making war against the other gangs. For this, he will need more arms and armor."

"Which means more money for us," Enginseer finished. "But should Coil come out of this battle on top, he will be more secure in his position within the Bay, giving credence to Lieutenant Mira's concerns of supporting Coil."

"True, but Coil is smart. There is no doubt in my mind that he understands that if he becomes the monodominant criminal power in the Bay, he will call down the wrath of the entire Protectorate and PRT, who would prefer to not see such a warlord rise in America," Taylor retorted. "No one wants a Moord Nag on this side of the ocean. I believe he will ensure that doesn't happen."

Artisan winced. "I suppose, but that's still a lot of trust to be giving this snake, Boss. If he gets caught, he could easily rat us out as his primary supplier, and there goes all your plans for saving the city."

"Or he could use our interactions as blackmail," Tempestus cut in. "Threatening to release them if you ever want to go public on the straight and narrow. Shady back room deals like this can ruin reputations. He'll have you by the balls." It took a moment after the words left Tempestus' mouth for him to realize what he said, "Uh, Ma'am."

Taylor waved him off. "You are not wrong. This is a dangerous game we are playing. We'll have to be smart, and make precautions and contingencies. But I would rather trust the snake I see, than the one hidden in the bushes." Taylor stood up straight, now commanding, rather than commenting. "We shall invite Coil back to our base, and with our right hand welcome him as a friend and partner. But with our left, we shall prepare for the inevitable conflict between our two parties. And when the time comes, our legions of steel shall rain upon him with the fury of the Machine God unfettered."

3/30/23 A/N: Been a while, huh? I'll see if I can't get back to a monthly upload schedule between this story and Taylor the Everchosen, but we'll see.

Chapter Text

Friday, March 11th…

The second time Taylor watched Coil and his men approach the Manufactorum was far less anxiety-inducing for the teenage cyborg than the first. After all, she and Coil were now in a business partnership, and she didn't need her enhanced intelligence to know the chances of him betraying her during this very meeting were slim to none.

But even a domesticated venomous snake was still a venomous snake. And Taylor quite readily believed in the maxim that one cannot be too paranoid. Once again, Taylor stood in the middle of her Manufactorum with her Skitarii of Kill Team Ryza flanking her. And in two nondescript locations outside of the Manufactorm, namely a nearby dumpster and a rusted shell of a car, were two lascannon armed Tarantula sentry turrets.

This time however instead of Enginseer, Taylor had Tempestus with his fully kitted out carapace armor and powerful hotshot las gun, stand as bodyguard. Besides the fact that Enginseer was still setting up the second facility, with what Tempetus was armed with, his ever growing set of combat skills, and his own powers, he was in fact the strongest combatant Taylor had in her organization.

And more importantly, right now she was having Tempestus focus his powers on reading body motions and facial expressions. Taylor had yet to create any kind of lie detector yet, so having him here and discreetly communicating through his comm set was the best they could do right now to determine if Coil was lying.

Same as last time, Coil and his entourage drove several black SUVs straight up to the Manufactorum and dismounted their vehicles. And again same as last time, a white van followed the SUVs as well.

From the SUVs, Taylor watched as Coil exit, followed by a squad of his mercenaries. She noted that while they carried her arc rifles, they were clad in black tactical clothing, and not the carapace armor she sold them. Were the armor sets damaged in their operations? Or perhaps were they attempting to appear less hostile by wearing far less durable conventional armor?

Taylor's musings were cut off as Coil spoke.

"Greetings Tech-Priest," he said with an almost jovial tone. "How have you been?"

Taylor raised an eyebrow a fraction of an inch. She then glanced at Tempestus. To his credit, he didn't outwardly react to her. Instead he spoke to his helmet's commlink, with the external vocalizers turned off so no one else could hear him.

"Best I can tell, he seems genuinely happy to see you," Tempestus reported. "Almost too happy."

"Something that we should be suspicious of?" Taylor responded back into her secure commlink within her own mask.

"Can't tell. This is my first time seeing Coil in person, so I need a bit to establish a baseline."

Taylor wanted to grunt in annoyance, but her emotional dampeners kept her response under check. Instead she said, "Coil. I have been doing rather well, all things considered. I have been putting the funds from your last purchase to good use, and we have begun many new projects here at the Manufactorum."

A smile appeared behind the fully solid black face mask of Coil. "That is good to hear. And we have been putting the technology purchased from you to good use as well, as you're well aware."

Nodding, Taylor said, "Indeed. The newspaper was a good touch. Happy coincidence that they placed the blame on a potential electrokinetic, or do you have people within the Gazette?"

Coil maintained the smile on his face as he waved off Taylor's question. "No, maintaining people within such an outdated mode of media is not worth the time nor money. Not especially when the same goal can be achieved with anonymous tips and calls."

When Tempestus didn't comment, Taylor took that as either Coil was telling the truth, or he needed more time to build a baseline still.

"Of course, efficiency should be a priority of any organization." Taylor continued, trying to sound as amiable as she could. "Speaking of, the arc rifles of your men could use some tuning up. If you would like, I can have my Skitarii perform the necessary maintenance rites on them while we speak."

Coil paused for a moment, likely considering his options, before he nodded and said, "Of course, Tech-Priest. While they work we can get to the meat of our discussion today."

As Coil's mercenaries began to hand their weapons over to the Skitarii, Tempestus' voice came in over the commlink again.

"He is far too confident. That doubt and hesitation looked fake. He's not afraid that we are completely disarming his men."

It wasn't hard for Taylor to draw up the obvious conclusions. "Either he is a fool who trusts us implicitly already," which Taylor knew wouldn't be the case. "Or he has a contingency should we be the ones to betray him first."

"My thoughts exactly boss," Tempestus grunted, watching with feigned casual disinterest as the Skitarii took the arc rifles to nearby workbenches and began maintenance.

"Yes, let us," Taylor said, now speaking publicly again. She moved to a small table and two chairs she had placed in the Manufactorum floor and sat on the chair at her side. "You seem to be rather satisfied with your previous purchase. I assume you wish to make another?"

Coil moved to sit as well, crossing his legs as he steepled his fingers. "That is a wise assumption, Tech-Priest. I wish to purchase another set of a dozen carapace armors and matching arc rifles to outfit another squad. And I would like this order completed as soon as possible as well."

Taylor's emotional dampeners suppressed a grimace. That was a rather large order to be made when so much of her resources were already going towards constructing the first Chimera and the Manufactorum's expansion, as well as the multiple other projects she and Artisan were working on.

"I can complete this order," Taylor said slowly. "But it will require some time to gather the necessary materials. As for price, the total cost of the equipment and labor will be $900,000. As for a rush order, add on another $100,000, for a grand total of 1 million dollars."

Coil slowly nodded his head. "$500,000," he said, not asked.

Taylor raised a brow at him again, this time making a show of her incredulity. "I assume you brought another gift in order to convince me to give you a discount."

"Gifts," Coil corrected with a low chuckle. Coil then turned to the nearby SUV and called out, "Chariot, if you would be so kind?"

The rear doors furthest SUV opened, and out came an obvious Tinker. He stood straight, chest puffed out, wearing a suit of black power armor that Taylor immediately began analyzing. There wasn't anything particularly advanced about the armor's function as an exoskeleton that Taylor found interesting. It didn't look like it would give the same level of protection or strength enhancement that Armsmaster's or her own armor would be able to provide. If anything, it looked like any strength boost from the armor would be minimal at best. It looked instead to have a focus on mobility.

The armor plating itself especially reinforced that hypothesis. Not because of any specialized alloys, but because it was extraordinarily sleek, no doubt designed with aerodynamics in mind. Combined with the fact there was a rather large jet pack on his back, as well as several wheels built into his boots like roller skates further reinforced that idea that his speciality was a focus on speed and mobility.

"Definitely a kid," Tempestus' voice cut Taylor out of her analysis of Chariot. "He's putting on airs, trying to be confident, but seems pretty uncomfortable right now."

Taylor didn't outwardly respond to Tempestus, but filed that information away as she watched Chariot approach her and Coil.

"This is Chariot, a Tinker under my employ who I believe would flourish far better within your organization," Coil introduced the Tinker with a smooth casualness that belied just how valuable a gift he was giving her.

"A Tinker…" Taylor slowly said. "If you had a Tinker within your employ, why do you require my aid?"

Still smiling, Coil leaned forward towards Taylor. "Come now, Tech-Priest, you are an extraordinarily intelligent young woman. You should understand that while a single Tinker is valuable, there is only so much that one Tinker who isn't you can do." He then turned to Chariot. "Chariot, please, inform Tech-Priest here of your powers."

When Chariot spoke, he cleared his throat and tried to speak in an obviously fake, deeper timbre. "My speciality is both movement and transportation based technology. My jetpack here can take flight and get me moving well over 100 miles per hour in the air, or on the ground."

"And how many of my mercenaries can you arm with such equipment?" Coil immediately followed up.

Chariot flinched as he glanced at Coil, no doubt surprised and hurt at the obvious trap of a question.

"Uh… just myself, and maybe one or two of your mercenaries. If I just solely focused on making and maintaining tech for them, maybe a team of five or six?" Chariot's brave silhouette caved in on itself, revealing the lack of confidence underneath.

Coil turned back to Taylor as he leaned forward, his gaze intently focused on her. "And therein lies the problem, as I am sure you figured out. If you did not exist, I would keep Chariot within my organization for myself. A talented Tinker who could perform many acts upon my behalf. But with you, and your ability to mass produce Tinkertech? Tech-Priest I am not looking just for Capes to command, but for long-term investments and allies. And I believe you and your Cult of the Machine are a very, very worthwhile investment, and I wish to see you grow as much as I can."

Despite herself, Taylor couldn't help but feel herself swayed by Coil's words. In a city where all she found were blocks and fools who would reject, it felt… nice, to have someone outside of her organization so openly support her.

Once again, Tempestus' voice cut into her mind. "I don't see any deception in him, but it's hard to tell with his suit. But what I can see is that this guy is confident, arrogant even. It's like he's completely and totally sure that you'll accept what he's giving you."

Taylor frowned behind her mask, because Tempestus was right. She was completely and totally going to accept what Coil was giving to her. The chance to add another Tinker to her retinue was something she craved for. And his specialization was something that she completely lacked, and that the likes of Artisan only scratched up on with his technology. She wondered how well his designs would work with Enginseer's as well. Could they collaborate and design aircraft or even spacecraft that she could use?

Mentally sighing, Taylor wondered if she was just this easy to read and predict, or if Coil had some way to gain insight into her needs and desires. She still had no idea what his power was, or how many Parahumans he had under his command, a rather extreme disadvantage in her view.

Regardless, an opportunity was in front of her right here, right now, and she would be remiss to not take it. "This is a great gift Coil. I will admit, it is refreshing to speak with one who will go so far to establish friendship and good relations between our two organizations. Thank you." Taylor bowed her head.

"No, thank you for the equipment you will provide. And I look forward to what you and Chariot will create in the future."

"And no doubt look forward to being the first customer of said future technology," Taylor dryly said.

Coil chuckled. "And there's that intelligence I knew you had."

Taylor frowned, annoyed at Coil's condescending attitude. "And what is this second gift you mentioned?"

With a smile that never left his face, Coil turned to one of his mercenaries. "Minor, if you would."

With a nod, the mercenary captain directed two of his fellows and they moved for the white van. Taylor couldn't see into the rear of the van, as it was facing away from her, but heard the sounds of metal clanging on metal as the mercenaries brought something out. After a few moments, Taylor saw what the mercenaries were moving. It was a gurney, a wheeled one not unlike what was used in ambulances or hospitals.

And atop the stretcher, unmoving, was Sophia fucking Hess.

Taylor watched in silent disbelief as the mercenaries wheeled her former tormentor towards her. Sophia was unconscious, sedated most likely, as one of the mercenaries wheeled an IV drip and a vital signs monitor connected to her. The mercenaries deposited Sophia's gurney between Taylor and Coil, for all of the Manufactorum to see.

For several, agonizingly long moments, Taylor stared at Sophia. When almost a full minute passed, she finally asked, "Why?"

"Because, Miss Hebert," Coil said with a voice far too friendly for the words he was saying. "You are no child with whom I will play games of carrots and sticks with. You have proven yourself to be a resourceful, highly intelligent contemporary with whom I wish to deal with openly and on an even playing field. Miss Hess here was someone who wronged you, and as a gift and gesture of goodwill, I wish to give her to you, so you may enact whatever vengeance your heart desires."

Taylor only half processed Coil's response as she asked her next question, "How?"

"Well the answer to that Miss Hebert is rather obvious. You haven't exactly been subtle with your identity. You may not be aware, but your case garnered a significant amount of attention, both locally and across the nation. After all, it's not everyday a child is mutilated in her own school when the Slaughterhouse isn't in town. And within days of that child who lost three limbs and an eye winning her case, a new Cape with multiple cybernetic augmentics comes onto the scene. Said Cape then goes to make waves everywhere not only with her technology, but with the elimination of a local gang and her brazen purchases. Come on Taylor, you didn't even use a shell company or a front to purchase the land for your workshops. Yours and your Father's names are on the leases. A rather amateur mistake."

Still caught off balance by Sophia's appearance, Taylor didn't really have any words to counter Coil's critiques.

"Wow you really don't give a shit about the Unwritten Rules, do you?" Tempestus said, speaking publicly for the first time tonight.

Coil turned his head to the stormtrooper, incredulous. "And your mistress does? The very existence of your Skitarii allies are not only a flagrant violation of the Unwritten Rules, but a horrifying crime against humanity more than worthy of a Kill Order. Honestly, I may be a vicious bastard, but even I don't think anything I've done comes close to what she has. Luckily for all of you, I am someone who is not limited by such petty things like morality when we both have so much to gain from cooperation."

Returning his gaze back to Taylor, Coil's composure returned back to its more controlled, if not smug demeanor. "Regardless, back to the matter of hand, I have a second reason for giving Miss Hess to you. And that would be so we could have another Cape on our side."

With his words, Taylor's head snapped up from Sophia and focused on Coil with laser precision."... What?" She hissed out.

Coil sat back, folding his hands across his lap as he casually said, "Yes, it doesn't surprise me that you do not know. Miss Hess here was once a hero. A Ward. You may recognize her alias, Shadow Stalker."

"WHAT!?" Taylor couldn't help but shout, anger transcending her emotional dampeners limiters.

Meanwhile Tempestus simultaneously cried out, "FUCK! A Ward! Coil are you insane!? It's one thing to kidnap gangsters and druggies, but a fucking Ward? Do you want to bring down the Triumvirate on us?"

Despite all of the shouting, Coil maintained a calm demeanor as he slowly raised up his hands. "Calm yourselves. Miss Hess is formerly a Ward. She lost her status following the dreadful case against Tech-Priest here, and was on the way to prison when I acquired her so I have my doubts that the Protectorate or PRT will be looking to mount a rescue mission any time soon."

Again, Taylor was only half listening to Coil as she processed everything that was told to her. "That's why…" Taylor whispered out, drawing all eyes to her. She almost curled in on herself, shutting out the world around her. "That's why they ignored me. Blackwell, the teachers, everyone in that fucking cesspit of a school. If leaving one girl to be tortured and harassed everyday was the cost of keeping a Ward in their school, then of course they would gladly take it."

Still leaning back, Coil casually said, "Indeed. The PRT and Protectorate are organizations dedicated to maintaining balance, maintaining the status quo. Unfortunately for everyone, the status quo is not one that cares for the suffering of individuals."

Anxious thoughts ripped their way though Taylor's mind. Did Armsmaster know about this? What about Dragon? Or Amy and Victoria? How many so-called heroes were willing to overlook her suffering in order to protect Sophia? How corrupt and malfeasant was the PRT that they could look her in the eye, shake her hand, and smile at her when they were the ones who allowed her to suffer so much she Triggered?

Coil seemed content to let Taylor spiral, sitting back and watching the show. Tempestus meanwhile rushed over to Taylor's side.

"Boss! Pull it together!" Tempestus whispered frantically into her ear. "Coil has you off balance right now, and that's exactly what he wants! Don't let him manipulate you!"

When Tempestus' words hit her ears, Taylor immediately set her cranial circuitry to overdrive and shut down any and all emotions within her. Letting cold, immutable logic take over once more, she recentered herself, straightening her posture as she looked back at Coil.

"You make many good points, Coil. You offer me great gifts, and even unveiled to me a great conspiracy. For that, you have my thanks." Taylor gave a slight bow of her head to the villain. "I must say, I am truly shocked that you are coming to me so openly and honestly with your desires for friendship."

Coil chuckled. "Yes, I actually do it quite often, but people are always surprised."

"Indeed. Regardless, I accept what you give me, and even offer you a gift of my own."

Taylor summoned one of her Skitarii from her workshop below. In his hands was a necklace, the chain of which was made of Tinkertech alloys. At the end of the necklace was a thick cross, emblazoned with a skull in its center. The Skitarii offered the necklace to Coil, who gingerly took it in his hands.

"And what is this? You don't seem to be a practicing Catholic to me," Coil asked, testing the hefty weight of the necklace in his hands.

"That, dear Coil, is a rosarius. As for what it does…" Taylor's hand whipped to the laspistol at her side and drew it, immediately leveling the pistol at Coil.

Before anyone could react, Taylor fired two ruby-red lasers right for Coil's center mass. When they hit, there was an explosion of bright light that blinded everyone not wearing ocular goggles or implants. Coil's mercenaries moved to draw their own sidearms, as all of their primary weapons were still being serviced, but they too were too slow as the Skitarii around them all held them at gunpoint as well.

However, rather than seeing a smoking corpse where their boss was, they saw Coil recoiling back in his chair, surrounded by a sphere of glowing light. Coil blinked, looking around himself in disbelief. Tentatively, he extended a finger out and touched the shield around him, which then dissipated back into nothing.

"It creates a hardlight barrier in response to extreme force, converting it into photonic energy, hence the bright light," Taylor explained as she holstered her pistol, emotionless despite how unsettled Coil seemed. "It was based on the creation of one of my employees, so you can see what your investment of Chariot will result in. That is my first prototype, but I have more currently being made, so you may keep it."

Coil swallowed, visibly shaken, but within a few moments, he was able to recompose himself. Sitting up straight once more, he put the rosarius around his neck and nodded, "A rather over dramatic demonstration, if I do so say so myself." With a nod of his head, his mercenaries stood down.

"But an effective one," Taylor countered as she commanded her own Skitarii to relax as well. "And so you know, my Laspistol was charged to full power, and you know how effective my weapons are. You may rest easy that against most conventional or even Tinkertech weapons, you will be safe."

Nodding, Coil fingered the cross hanging from his neck one more time. "And how many of these would you be able to produce? I would be interested in purchasing more to equip my men."

"Unfortunately, the creation of the rosarius is a difficult process, even for me. I had planned on giving them only to my retinue as well as myself, but you shall have one as a sign of our friendship."

Coil gave her a forced, albeit self-assured smile. "Well, thank you for your kindness."

Taylor chose not to respond in kind. "Then if that is all, the maintenance on all of your weapons is complete. I have logged your orders and we will begin production as soon as we get the materials. If that is all?"

Standing, Coil smoothed out his costume. "Yes, I believe we had a very productive meeting today Tech-Priest. Payment will be handled through the same offshore account as before." He gave a short bow. "Until next time."

Turning about face, Coil made his way to his SUV. Like good little soldiers, his mercenaries all silently followed suit, retrieving their weapons from the Skitarii before entering their own vehicles. The only one who remained was Chariot, who looked around, lost and confused as the members of Coil's organization left without him.

Taylor waited until they drove away before she turned to address their newest member. "So Chariot, and we'll have to do something about that name, first of all allow me to welcome you to my organization. While there are others, we are primarily a collaborative group of Tinkers dedicated to creating great works of technology for the glory of the Omnissiah. A quest that you are now a part of."

For a moment, Chariot seemed dumbstruck by Taylor, before he just nodded his head. "Uh yeah… Glad to be aboard I guess."

"Hmm. And if you wish to reveal yourself to me and your contemporaries, or keep your identity secret. I shall not force you."

Chariot stared blankly at Taylor, his eyes flicking towards Tempestus for a brief moment, followed by the Skitarii. "Uhh, yeah if you don't mind, I think I'll keep my helmet on for now. Until I get more comfortable with all of you and all that."

"Fair enough." Taylor nodded at him. "Well then, you must have had a long day, and I do not need you here for now. You may return home, but I expect you to be here at 8 am sharp tomorrow morning."

Chariot couldn't help but groan. "Really? That early?"

Taylor looked at him flatly. "Yes, really. I wish to spend much of the day going over what you have, testing your knowledge, and figuring out where you shall stand amongst us. And once that is all done we shall get to Tinkering. I'm sure you must be interested in seeing what you can develop with all of the resources we have here."

His eyes flicked over the various power tools and piles of raw materials and scrap electronics, and swallowed hard. "Yeah, okay, 8 am it is. I'll see you tomorrow, I guess."

Turning around, Chariot made his way for the Manufactorum's exit. Once he was outside, he began skating, picking up speed as his jetpack turned on and pushed him along.

Once he was definitely out of earshot, Taylor looked at the Alpha of Skitarii Kill Team Ryza. "Follow him. Take a truck if you must. Find out where he lives and his identity."

The Alpha made the sign of the cog with his interlocked fingers. "As is your will, Prophet." The Skitarii Alpha gathered up his squad, arming themselves with their weapons, and moved to track down Chariot through the shadows.

When they were gone, Taylor turned to Tempestus. "So, what do you make of our newest member?"

Snorting, Tempestus moved to sit in the same chair Coil used, unlocked the seals on his helmet, and removed it. Placing the helmet on the table, Tempestus revealed the short crop of brown hair now in a buzz cut that Sgt. Major Merrick forced upon the cape. And while Tempestus was in good shape before, any residual fat in his cheeks had melted off from his new training regime.

"I trust that kid a lot less than I can throw him, " Tempestus, formerly called Uber, and currently called Timothy without his helmet said with a shrug.

"Of course not. But you keep saying kid. You are sure that he is someone so young?"

"I mean yeah. Besides the fact that most Capes are young, Chariot was pretty unsure of himself the whole time. Even if he's not a kid, he's definitely not a hardened veteran of any kind. He kept glancing at Coil, looking for instructions. If anything he seemed pretty scared that Coil just left him here." As Tempestus sat back in his chair, he seemed to think for a moment, before speaking again. "Hey, you mind having one of your cyborgs get me a beer? Merrick keeps a few in the kitchen."

Taylor raised an eyebrow at Tempestus' impetuous attitude, but then mentally commanded one of her other Skitarii to complete the task. After all, it wasn't that much effort on her part to do so.

"So long as the child does nothing to incur my wrath, he has nothing to fear," she said bluntly. "And what of Coil? What did you make of him?"

Bringing his hand up to his face, Tempestus rubbed his chin in contemplation. "He's… a lot harder to read. Although I was able to glean something. Like I mentioned during the meeting, he was confident in what he was saying, supremely so. So much that there was zero hesitation in anything he said to you. At least, until you shot him."

"Meaning?" Taylor growled out, annoyed she had to have Tempestus explain this to her. "Coil's arrogance is not exactly a secret."

Tempestus nodded at the Skitarii who brought him a beer, opened it, and took a sip. "Man I cannot believe I am used to this already. Anyway, it means Coil is either an insanely good improviser, or he practiced his lines a lot."

Taylor looked at Tempestus flatly. "That's it? All you can tell me is that he practiced his negotiations?"

"More than just practice, boss," Tempestus said, a little frustrated now. "Nobody talks like that normally. My best guesses are either he knew what you were going to say, or he's a professionally trained actor."

Before Taylor could berate Tempestus further for his inane comments, she paused and bit her tongue. "I believe we can discount him being a precog. He did not seem to see me shooting him coming at all. His skill as an actor is good to know however." Taylor nodded her head. "Regardless, this was a productive meeting."

"Yeah I suppose so." Tempestus pursed his lips. "But what about the PRT? How do you want to handle them?"

Taylor frowned. "A not so quiet, vindictive part of my mind says we should cut off all relations with them. But luckily for us, I have quashed that part of my id. There would be no advantage in us alienating the PRT. It would merely draw suspicion to us and cut us off from allies and potential buyers."

Tempestus drank another sip of beer. "Fair enough. Honestly, that's probably what Coil was trying to do. Turn you against the PRT so he'd be your only customer. A monopoly on Tinkertech would easily let him take over the city. Not even the PRT would be able to stop him."

"And if I were not in complete control of my own emotions right now, he may have succeeded," Taylor half snarled under her mask. "But despite all his pretty words, I will not allow Coil to use the mistakes of the PRT to lead and manipulate me like some child."

"Sounds good. But uh, speaking of mistakes of the PRT… what's your plan for her?" He then nodded his head toward the still asleep Sophia next to them.

Taylor looked at him flatly. "Why don't you go take a walk, Timothy." It was not a question.

Pausing for a moment, Tempestus decided to chug the rest of his beer in a single motion. When the bottle was empty, he stood up and said, "Yeah. I'll go do that. See you tomorrow, Boss." He then walked out the Manufactorum without looking back.

Once Tempestus was gone, Taylor turned towards the unconscious Sophia and commanded her Skitarii. "Bring her downstairs."

Taylor walked paced around the operating table, her eyes never leaving Sophia's body as she did. Her patient stripped of all clothing save for an anesthesia mask, Taylor's mind automatically logged everything of note. Sophia's body was rather well built, athletic with a good balance of both fast twitch and slow twitch muscle fiber, creating a utilitarian blend of explosiveness and endurance that a young hero would need.

Beyond that, Taylor could see further evidence of Sophia's life as a hero etched into her body. Patches of skin that were discolored scar tissue, some of which looked like possibly knife attacks that were poorly stitched together. As well as areas of bone that did not seem to have healed correctly from small fractures caused by blunt trauma. Grabbing Sophia's hand and lifting it up, Taylor saw many callouses on the knuckles from repeated use.

"I will be honest Sophia, I do not know what to do with you." With a small sigh, Taylor put her former bully's hand back on the table. "I feel as though I should hate you. To feel righteous rage and vindication now that I finally have you helpless before me. But I know how pointless such emotions are. How they can distract you and deceive you. Pull you away from the harsh truth of logic."

Taylor turned around and began collecting her tools. "And what logic tells me, is that you are not just a criminal. That beyond your wanton sadism, and rather primitive view of the world, you wish to serve humanity. You wish to be a hero." Grabbing her bonesaw, Taylor used her servo arm to attach tourniquets to Sophia's limbs. "Despite everything that has occurred between us. I shall allow you to continue towards that goal."

With that, Taylor began the first cut on Sophia's left arm. "I have compiled what data I know about Shadow Stalker. As per your name, you hunt in the night, seeking out ne'er do wells and villains, and removing them with rather admirable efficiency." When Taylor finished removing the limb, she placed it to the side and began attaching the baseplate for the augmetics. "In your short tenure as a vigilante, you inspired fear in the gangs, and showed a distinct lack of morals which I admire."

While Taylor used her hands to work on the limb, her servo arm behind her gathered up the pieces of Sophia's limb. Unlike both the Skitarii Rangers or Taylor's own augmetic, which were heavily armored with a focus on combat, this prosthetic was slender and longer, with a focus more on speed and dexterity.

"And so I shall allow you to return to this state. To become the hunter you so desperately desire to be. But you shall be my hunter. My knife in the dark. My… Sicarian."

With that, Taylor finished attaching the connection point for the prosthetic and moved to attach the limb itself. While the augmetic was thinner than Taylor's own, the special blend of Tinkertech alloys made it so it was still unnaturally strong. And at the very end of the limb, was a taloned claw, with needle sharp blades that, even inert, hummed with power.

"I truly cannot understate the sheer talent that Artisan has with his constructions," Taylor muttered to herself. "Converting his Combo Cutter from one that stored potential energy, to a transonic weapon that constantly vibrates at resonant frequencies was rather annoying, but the results will allow you to shred through armor and flesh like it doesn't exist, my Sicarian."

When the claw was attached, and Taylor saw no outward signs of rejection, she split her focus, taking control of several servitors and began constructing the rest of the limbs, while Taylor's main body moved to Sophia's head.

"And of course, I cannot just let you keep your mind. You are too temperamental, volatile even, to simply let run loose with all of the gifts I am about to bestow upon you." Taylor bowed down, pressing her forehead to Sophia's. "Do not worry. Aracana is so much happier now as Enginseer than she was as Squealer. So too shall you be happy, Sophia."

Taylor grabbed a clean surgical power saw and slowly began making an incision around Sophia's skull, exposing her brain to the air. At the bare minimum, Taylor was going to have to use the same enhancements she used on Squealer on Sophia.

First, after installing the necessary cortex implants, Taylor mind wiped Sophia's memories via dataspike. She would then implant memories through psycho-indoctrination to ensure Sophia's loyalty to Taylor and the Machine God.

Next, just in case the psycho-indoctrination wasn't enough, Taylor would install a Data Tether and Mind Impulse Unit to give her full access to Sophia's mind and senses, and if necessary take control. It was the same system she used on Enginseer and all of her other Skitarii, and would be necessary on someone as aggressive as Sophia. But beyond this immediate effect, the tether had the benefit of connecting Sophia to all of the other Skitarii, allowing for instant communication and coordination between all of them as well.

When her mental shackles on the girl were finished, Taylor was ready to begin her next phase of upgrades. Similar to her own intelligence upgrades, Taylor focused on creating a set of cranial circuitry that would enhance Sophia's combat capabilities. Her adrenal glands were hypercharged, giving her an enhanced state of aggression for combat. Reflexes and processing power were enhanced so that Sophia would be placed squarely at a low level combat Thinker rating, allowing her to practically see in slow motion and capitalize on the low level superhuman speed that her augmetics would provide.

With the cranial circuitry done, Taylor began to stitch up Sophia's skull before moving to finish the rest of her enhancements. All in all, between her own powers, the cybernetic enhancements, and Tinkertech weapons Taylor provided her, Sophia was going to be the perfect assassin. She was going to be her perfect assassin. Her Sicarian. And together they would purge all the enemies of humanity in the Machine God. And in doing so, save it from itself.

Chapter Text

Saturday, March 12th…

It was relatively early in the morning as Vicky lazed about in her family's living room, unsure of what to do with herself today. She still hadn't made up with Dean, and she wasn't particularly interested in hanging out with any of her other friends from Arcadia either. Sighing, she laid further back into her family's sofa couch and turned on the TV. She couldn't say she was actually interested in watching anything either, but at the very least she could use the white noise in the background.

After settling for a rerun of Earth Aleph's Lord of the Rings, she sank down and let her thoughts wander. And as it often did when she had down time, her thoughts went to the idea of going on patrol. She hadn't gone on patrol since her incident with Taylor last month, something which had attracted the notice of her mother and the Wards. She told them that she just wanted to focus on school and herself for now, which given the fact that she had just broken up with Dean, seemed to pacify them. But she knew that the longer she put off going out in costume, the more questions people were going to ask.

Besides Amy, who only worked in the hospital, Vicky was by far the most active member of New Wave. Her parents, Aunt Sarah, and Uncle Neil were too busy to go on as many regular patrols as her, meanwhile Crystal was busy with college, and Eric was more interested in hanging out with his friends than being a hero.

That just left her to carry the torch of New Wave, to show the people of Brockton Bay and the world that they were still true heroes and continued the fight against the villains. Some hero I've turned out to be… she thought bitterly.

Everytime the idea of going out in costume crossed Vicky's mind, her brain would flash back to that alley. To the broken Nazi beneath her, and the fact that she just handed him over to Taylor's minion. Vicky shuddered at the memory. She had heard stories of other heroes, who would experience some kind of test of character, where they would be placed in things like hostage situations or terrorist attacks, and have to put their morals against a hard decision that needed to be made, and in the end they were supposed to do the right thing. Vicky couldn't help but feel like she'd failed her test.

A not so quiet part of her screamed that she didn't deserve to wear her costume anymore. Or that if she put it on, she should fly straight to Taylor's Manufactorum and arrest her right on the spot. That voice in her head wasn't strong enough for her to actually do it though.

And so, Vicky continued to lie there, watching Viggo Mortensen and Orlando Bloom chop up orcs until the sound of someone walking down the stairs caught her attention. Sitting up, she turned to see Amy, dressed up and ready to go out, wearing a stylish beige sweater and a desaturated knitted red scarf. She raised an eyebrow at that. Amy never went out on Saturdays unless Vicky dragged her out, nor did she ever dress up in something that actually looked nice.

"Hey Ames, what's up?" she asked as she watched Amy put on her shoes.

Amy looked up at her and Vicky blinked in surprise. Amy was wearing makeup.

"Oh hey Vicky. I had plans to meet up with Taylor today," Amy said with a faux casualness that did not hide the anxiety that was obviously in her voice.

"Oh that's nice," Vicky said, still stunned by Amy's make up. When she processed what Amy actually said though, she jumped out of her seat and floated above the couch. "What!?"

Amy physically cringed with how loud Vicky was, bringing her hands to her ears. "Vicky, what the Hell is wrong with you!?"

Almost immediately, Vicky pulled herself back, lowering herself to the ground. When she saw that Amy even looked a little scared of her, she realized she must've been blasting her aura out, and she reigned that in as well.

"Sorry," she muttered, head downcast, before she regained her confidence and looked back up at Amy. "My bad Ames. It's just…" Vicky pursed her lips, debating how to approach this. "I don't think you should be hanging out with Taylor."

Amy's jaw dropped at Vicky, before her face contorted into what looked like a mixture of outrage and disbelief. "What? What are you talking about Vicky? Why shouldn't I hang out with Taylor?"

Crossing her arms beneath her breasts, Vicky tried her best to mimic their Mom's assertive, no bullshit demeanor. "Amy, I don't know how you don't see this, but Taylor isn't a good influence on you. She is not a good person."

To Vicky's shock, her mimicry of their Mom seemed to have the opposite effect of what she wanted, as what she could only call a flash of feral fury appeared on Amy's face, before it quickly vanished behind her angered scowl. "What do you mean she's not a good person? She's helping people with her powers! And she's also my only friend and I don't like you insulting her like that."

Stepping back, Vicky tried her best to not let her surprise show on her face. "What do you mean your only friend? You have plenty of friends!"

Amy rolled her eyes with almost cartoonish exaggeration. "No, I really don't Vicky. You have plenty of friends. I have people who tolerate my presence so they can hang out with you."

Vicky opened her mouth to retort that point, but found she really couldn't. She'd never seen Amy hang out with any of their friends from Arcadia without her. Instead, she pivoted topics. "That doesn't change my point! Can't you see she's just using you for your powers?"

This time Amy was the one to cross her arms, her face stormy. "Like how the hospitals use me for my powers? Or the PRT? At the very least I can use my powers for someone I actually like hanging out with. God, Vicky, I don't understand what your problem is with her! Why can't you just be happy that I found someone I like a lot!?" Amy's words hung in the air for a few moments, before her face colored and she hurriedly added on, "As a friend! The first friend I like a lot."

My problem with her is that she's a sociopath who kidnaps people and turned me into an accomplice through blackmail! Vicky screamed internally, pointedly ignoring Amy's gay panic.

"My problem…" Vicky mumbled out, her mind reaching for answers. When one came to her mind, she shouted it out despite knowing how it might hurt Amy. "My problem is that she is fucking insane! I see it. Mom sees it. Hell even the Wards and the PRT see it, and it boggles me how you don't see it, Amy. Taylor is a freak! She's a deranged, self-mutilating, freak!"

Vicky was screaming by the end of her speech, and when she finished, the words hung in the air, an oppressive weight that pressed down on her that she knew she couldn't take back. To her surprise, Amy didn't shout back. If anything, Vicky probably would've preferred that reaction.

Instead, the anger on Amy's face was gone. Instead her face was stone, looked in an expression of equal parts contempt, and disappointment for Vicky. Amy just shook her head and went to the door.

"I never knew you were so shallow," she muttered, done with the conversation and done with Vicky. "I'm taking the bus to Taylor's."

"Amy, wait!" Vicky called out as Amy left the house, completely ignoring her. When Vicky got to the threshold, she shouted, "I didn't mean it!"

But Amy might as well have been deaf as she strode away, uncaring for any of Vicky's pleas. Vicky wanted to fly after her. To grab her and explain everything. But she didn't. She couldn't. She didn't know how to convince Amy, not without exposing herself and what she had done. That she had not only hurt more people thanks to her own carelessness, but that she just let Taylor take them as well.

Instead, Vicky just closed the door to her family's home, and let out a scream of impotent rage.

By the time Amy got off the bus within the docks, she had still yet to fully calm herself from her talk with Vicky. She just fundamentally couldn't understand what Vicky's problem was! For so long, she thought that Vicky couldn't be wrong. Sure, Vicky had issues controlling her powers that sometimes led to sometimes terrifying situations, but besides that, she thought her step-sister was pretty much perfect.

Hearing her say all that awful slander about Taylor, it honestly broke Amy's heart. She imagined what she was feeling was probably like what civilians felt when they realized that their favorite hero was a giant dick. She was just tired and disappointed.

Sighing, Amy pushed any thoughts of her sister out of her mind as she walked towards the Manufactorum. Within a few minutes, Amy made it to the workshop, where she was greeted by the Guardsmen protecting it and let in.

Once she was inside, Amy saw a feminine figure in red robes and called out with a wave, "Taylor!"

Her hand dropped with the figure turned around. The woman Amy was looking at definitely wasn't Taylor, made plainly initially by the fact that she had neither the ruby-cybernetic prosthetic eye, nor the lower-face gas mask Taylor always wore. Instead, she seemed to have a pair of Tinkertech goggles beneath her hood, which also covered her blonde hair.

Amy's eyes dropped down and examined the rest of the woman. Just from a cursory glance, Amy could guess that the woman was older than both her and Taylor, probably in her 20s or early 30s. Amy most definitely didn't ogle the woman's ample chest or generous hips, but she did focus on the prosthetic limbs she had, 4 in total, replacing her arms and legs.

"Greetings," the stranger said with a bow. Amy had to admit she had a really nice voice. "You are Amy Dallon, correct? The Cape known as Panacea?"

Amy stiffened before she replied in a curt and not particularly polite way. "Yes, I'm her. Taylor's expecting me."

With a slight nod of her head, the woman said, "That she is. Tech-Priest is currently finishing a very important task, but I have reported to her that you're here. Please come in and have a seat, Taylor will be up shortly." She then pulled out a small steel chair from a workbench and gestured for Amy to sit.

Pursing her lips, Amy bit back the vitriolic retort that automatically came to her mind and moved to sit down. "So… you haven't given me your name."

The woman paused, and looked at Amy with a curious expression, before she nodded. "You're right, I haven't. You may call me Enginseer, one of the Capes here working under Taylor."

"Oh…" Amy took a deep breath in, hoping to cover up her surprise at that news. She then gave Enginseer what she hoped was a believable smile. "Taylor hadn't told her about any new Capes working for her. How did you two meet?"

Enginseer pulled out her own chair from under the workbench and took a seat across from Amy. "Taylor saved my life. And then granted me the blessings of the Machine God in the form of these holy augmetics. Now, I serve her in return, working with her to make the will of the Machine God manifest."

Amy politely nodded, taking in what this obviously insane Cape was saying. She decided to ignore the more obvious religious delusion, as she had no idea how to even begin to approach that, and instead focused on what she thought was more important.

"You work with Taylor? So you're a Tinker too?" She asked as neutral as she could. She had heard that when people Trigger near other capes, they would sometimes gain powers similar to the Capes around them. Perhaps that's what happened to Enginseer?

A smile appeared on Enginseer's face. A genuine one. "Indeed I am. I help Taylor create technology beyond what her own powers allow her to make. We've collaborated on a great deal of projects thus far. She has helped advance the internal cogitators in my latest Chimera project, while power sources I have created have been scaled down to use in Taylor's own projects."

Amy's lips puckered, and she had to bite the inside of her lip to not frown. "Oh really? Must be fun." She flicked some of her hair back behind her head and harrumphed. "You know I was there when Taylor Triggered." Not really but she was there when she first used her powers. "We even ping-ponged back and forth over her designs for how to keep her augmetics from poisoning her."

"Oohhh," Enginseer said with actual, legitimate wonder in her voice. "So you are the first to have worked with Taylor, and seen her magnificence."

Straightening her back, Amy gave a not very subtle prideful smile as she one-upped Enginseer. "Yep. I've been helping Taylor since the beginning."

Enginseer gave another, appropriately appreciative nod. "That's quite the feat, to have done so much for our Lady, despite the fact that I have never seen you working here before." Amy cringed internally at Enginseer's words, and the latter continued on, not seeing Amy's response. "What kind of wonders have the two of you made together? Anything I may examine?"

This time, Amy cringed visibly, and she didn't have an immediate response. "Ah, uhhh… well," luckily for Amy she was saved from any more stuttering when Taylor's voice rang out.

"Amy, good you have arrived," Taylor said as she appeared, from the stairway that led to her underground workshop.

Behind her were a trio of capes Amy had never seen before. All three were decidedly male, two were smaller and scrawnier, wearing hooded red robes similar to Taylor and Enginseer, while the third was much larger than the rest, suited in a gray suit of armor over red fatigues, and a fully sealed gas mask with crimson eye lenses.

As Amy's eyes roamed over the assembly of Capes in front of her, the first thing that came to her mouth was, "You've been recruiting."

Taylor gave a small nod. "Indeed. A necessity for my continued protection. It seems you have already met Enginseer. This is Artisan and Elysian, fellow Tinkers, as well as Tempestus, who works with the Guardsmen on security."

Following Taylor's hands, Amy identified Artisan as the skinnier of the two male Tinkers, slightly slouched over, and wearing a featureless, smooth, reflective face shield not unlike Clockbocker's costume. Elysian was larger than Artisan, but wasn't well built like Tempestus. He was lanky, but was helped out by the fact that he wore some kind of power armor beneath his robes, and a visored helmet that covered the top half of his head. It looked like it was aerodynamic, kinda like those helmet professional bicyclists would wear.

Thinking back to the Merchant attack a few weeks ago, Amy nodded. The Guardsmen were good, but nothing beat having a team of Capes to back you up. She automatically categorized Tempestus as the muscle and bruiser of the group, and she wondered what his powers were. As for the other two, Artisan and Elysian, Amy had no idea where Taylor had been able to pick up not just one, but three Tinkers since the last time she was here. That was more than what most Protectorate teams would field. Hell, with what Amy knew of Taylor's capabilities, her organization was probably approaching Toybox levels of Tinkering, if they hadn't reached it already.

"Well, that's good," was all Amy could say. While she was interested in learning more about where all these Capes came from, she knew she couldn't just ask. She wasn't a member of their team, and prying into team history wasn't a good way to make a first impression of four Capes she just met. "Anyway, this hang out was your idea. I assume you have everything ready for your surgery?"

"Indeed" Taylor automatically replied, turning back towards the stairwell she came out of. "The additional cranial enhancements and a new arm, if you recall, in addition to a few bionic organ replacements."

Amy snorted as she fell in step behind Taylor. "Yeah, sounds like a simple procedure. Removing half your organs all at the same time surely won't give you any issues," she dryly said.

"Well it's a good thing I have the world's greatest healer here to help me," Taylor flatly said at the head of the group, definitely not noticing the flush of approval her comment had elicited on Amy.

Before they had a chance to move downstairs, Tempestus cut in, "You know what? I don't really need to be here for this boss, so if it's all the same to you, I'm going to go patrol." he turned to Artisan. "You want to come with?"

Artisan paused to think. "Eh, nah I'm good here. I haven't seen Taylor Tinker on herself before, and to be honest, I'm pretty excited to see what happens."

"I wanna see what happens too," Elysian added on. He definitely sounded younger than both Tempestus and Artisan, probably still a teenager. Amy idly wondered what their specialities were, as Elysian and Artisan were suitably vague enough that they didn't betray any hints.

"You have your task then," Taylor said to Tempestus, dismissing the armored Cape while gesturing the rest to follow her downstairs.

As they all entered Taylor's private workshop, Amy saw the operating table set up once more, alongside a series of bionic enhancements laid on a steel table beside it. Some were obvious to Amy, like the bionic hand, others were obtuse and Amy could only guess their functions.

"Well then, no point in waiting," Taylor said as she detached the robotic arm from her back and placed it into a floor mount before disrobing.

Amy was about to shout, telling her to stop undressing in front of these male underlings, but luckily, Taylor seemed to have learned some more of modesty since their last meeting as she wore spats and a sports bra under her robes. She grabbed a hair clipper which was on the table as well, and gestured to Amy. "If you would."

Grimacing, Amy moved to the clippers and started shaving Taylor's head once again. She sighed, knowing that this was going to be the third, and probably not the last time she would have to regrow Taylor's hair. When she finished, it was time for the actual operation to begin.

Sitting down on a nearby chair, Amy heard some gags and other noises of disgust coming from Artisan and Elysian as Taylor opened up her skull to access her own brain. Amy didn't see any signs of rejection of the original cybernetics Taylor had placed previously. No necrosis or any other signs of damage. If anything, Amy noted that Taylor's brain had embraced and grown over cybernetics, perfectly meshing with them in a mixture of man and machine.

With access to the cerebrum open, Taylor's mechadendrite reached for the new cybernetic. Where before, Taylor had placed smaller, oblong, CPU sized bionics into her brain, this time the cranial enhancement Taylor had designed was a spider-shaped thin, metallic piece about the size of her hand. Below the "body" and each of the "legs" of the implant, were hundreds, if not thousands of small needles, which obviously were meant to pierce the brain to interface with it.

"Even I have to admit, this thing looks awful. So what's it going to do?" Amy asked as she watched Taylor's mechanical arm gingerly place the implant over the cerebrum. With a slight whirr, the needles extended into Taylor's gray-matter, sinking a few millimeters deep as the implant nestled itself right atop the brain.

"This implant contains a far more robust Mind Impulse Unit, to allow me to directly interface and control not just with my own technology, but with almost all conventional computer systems and networks, and theoretically other Tinkertech systems as well," Taylor answered as if she didn't just admit she had a way to hack into any computer in the world now. "And that is in addition to further intelligence and multi-tasking enhancements, allowing me to control hundreds of my… drones, instead of dozens, as well as a fully functional emotion vault."

"An emotion vault?" Amy parroted as she sealed Taylor's head back together. Through her powers, Amy could actually see small wires extending out of the new implant, shifting its way through Taylor's brain and connecting both to the older implanted chips, and the cyber mantle in Taylor's spine. Amy knew the brain itself couldn't feel pain, but she couldn't help but shudder at least a little bit as the needles worked their way through.

Taylor hummed. "With my last set of cranial enhancements, I noticed I could manipulate my emotions to a certain degree. Hide away anger, or sadness, or anxiety. But it was an unintended side effect, and not an intentional design. Thus my control over my feelings was flawed, incomplete. This enhancement will give me full control of my emotions, allowing me to reduce them, or even completely seal them away when irrational and illogical thought is not needed, and instead, pure logic desired."

A numb horror washed over Amy as she felt herself shift uncomfortably. "Reduce all of your emotions… God Taylor, doesn't that seem a bit extreme? To not feel happiness, or sadness, or love?" Amy really emphasized that last part. "You'd be literally turning yourself into a computer, getting rid of what makes you really human."

"Dragon said something similar about my physical enhancements," Taylor muttered quietly. "And in this case, I actually agree with both her and you. Worry not Amy, this is not an enhancement I plan to use all of the time. Only when situations call for it. Now let us continue."

Biting her lower lip, Amy pulled back on voicing any further complaints. It was already too late, the implant was in Taylor's head, and Amy wasn't going to use her powers to force it out. From there, they moved onto the implantment of Taylor's newest organs.

Using the mechadendrite to cut her own abdomen open, Taylor began the process of removing her organs. With Amy's help, they started with the kidneys. Going one at a time, Taylor cut out her normal kidneys, which were then gingerly removed by Amy. Amy then grabbed the cybernetic replacement and used her powers to attach Taylor's blood vessels to it.

The process was followed up with an artificial liver. Rather than completely replace the liver, only a chunk was removed and a Tinkertech filter was grafted on. Once that was finished, they moved to open up Taylor's ribcage. Her small clothes removed, the mechadendrite cut open Taylor's sternum, practically prying it apart as her lungs and heart were exposed to the air.

Taylor lost any ability to speak as the opening of the chest as the air pressure of the lungs equalized with the atmosphere. Normally this would spell death in minutes for anyone without specialized equipment, but Amy's powers made a heart-lung bypass machine unnecessary as she kept blood pumping to everywhere but the lung she was replacing.

According to Taylor, while her Autosanguination fluid was more than enough to defend against disease and filter out any natural toxins or those borne out as side effects of her prosthetics, all of these artificial organs were designed to deal with even more extreme toxins and poisons that Taylor may encounter. Inhaled, ingested, or injected, Taylor's body would be able to counter and filter out any natural, artificial, and possibly even Tinkertech toxins. And if Taylor was ever put in a situation where even her gasmask and enhanced lungs couldn't filter out the air, or if there even was no air, her new lungs contained a reservoir of oxygen she could call upon for several minutes of activity before she would pass out.

When the operation was done, Amy sealed up Taylor's torso and smiled. She could make these organs as well. Watching the way Taylor's bionic organs worked and interacted with her natural body, Amy was sure she could now create genetically enhanced lungs and kidneys that could filter out the worst toxins imaginable. Her grin grew wider as she craved someone to test out these new designs on.

She could only imagine if she could somehow convince Vicky to take on these enhancements. Vicky's barrier made her physically almost invulnerable, she was as vulnerable to gas attacks or food based poisons as anyone else. With the design Amy had come up with, these would be perfect to cover up these existing weaknesses. God please she just needed someone to try this on.

The smile on her face must have been an unnerving rictus, as when she turned away from Taylor and looked at the other two Tinkers in the workshop, the two men flinched away from her. Amy briefly wondered why they would act like that, before she looked down and gasped herself. The sweater she wore was covered in Taylor's blood, bile, and other fluids. Amy was so sucked into the operation, she didn't even notice.

Amy didn't wear gloves as part of her powers, and her hands were warm and sticky with Taylor's fluids. Some of it was even splattered on her face. Amy had to suppress a shudder as she thought about Taylor's very being all over her. She licked her lips.

"Amy," Taylor's voice shook Amy out of… whatever it was she was experiencing. Taylor was looking up at her expectantly, mechadendrite holding onto the new prosthetic arm she wanted to install. "Are you alright?"

"Great!" Amy squeaked. "Never been better. Just a little sad about this top. It was one of my nicer ones." She pulled her sweater forward to emphasize the stains.

Taylor rolled her eyes. "I do now know why you would wear such a thing when we are performing an operation. After this I can have it cleaned, you may borrow one of my robes in the meantime." The mechadendrite then moved to put the prosthetic arm next to Taylor's organic one. "But for now, focus on the task at hand. While you are not necessary for me to replace my own arm, having you here does simplify things."

Scoffing, Amy placed her hand back on Taylor, prepping for the amputation. "You really have a way with words, don't you Taylor?" she said dryly.

"No actually I have been informed that I have rather poor people skills," Taylor said back, completely neutral.

Amy snorted as a buzz saw lopped off Taylor's remaining organic arm. Once the offending limb was removed, Amy placed the augmetic at the stump and fused Taylor's flesh to it. While Amy didn't have the eye for identifying Tinkertech, she could at least tell this was a modular, combat-ready prosthesis similar to Taylor's existing cybernetic.

When the process was completed, Taylor raised her new hand and clenched a fist. She seemed to have full function over the digits, and showed no sign of rejection, not that Amy thought there would be any.

"And we are done," Amy said happily as she regrew Taylor's hair. "With this surgery, I think you've finally passed the threshold of being more machine than human."

Taylor lightly chuckled, her voice grating. "Something a long time coming. Thank you for your aid, Amy. I truly mean it. You have been an invaluable help since the beginning, and I could not have gotten this far without you." Taylor turned to look at her, and behind the gas mask and bionic eye, Amy could tell she was smiling.

Amy's sat ramrod straight as she felt a flash of heat spread across her face. Taylor wasn't just thanking her, but pretty much all but said that she needed Amy!

"You're welcome!" she definitely didn't squeak out. And anyone who said differently, she would turn into a puddle. "It was honestly my pleasure!"

"Hmm," was the only response Amy received. Already, Taylor was moving to re-robe herself.

Sensing that Taylor was already no longer paying attention to her, Amy internally panicked. She wanted Taylor to look at her. To praise her more. And she had just the thing to make her do that. "I designed something!" she blurted out, her brain no longer able to keep her mouth from holding back.

Taylor froze in place, unmoving for a long second, before she slowly turned to look at Amy. Amy almost came undone underneath Taylor's scarlet gaze. "Did you now? What do you have?"

Swallowing hard, Amy grabbed a notebook and pen that was on a nearby workbench. There were already some random sketches inside, obviously unintelligible techno-babble of a Tinker coming up with designs, so she flipped to a blank page. She sketched out a rather crude drawing of a cross-sectioned human brain, mostly anatomically correct save for an additional node near the base.

"I call it an Ossmodula. Ever since our first talk at your house, or even at the hospital, I've… been having ideas. I know I'm not a Tinker, and I'm pretty sure this doesn't count, but I pretty much have a perfect understanding of biology thanks to my powers, and your bionic organ implants inspired me to come up with some organs of my own. Purely theoretical of course!" Amy gave a weak chuckle before she continued on. "If anything you could look at my ideas and maybe make something cybernetic with your own powers! Anyway, after our last talk, I was thinking of other ways I could enhance a person, make them a brute like you do. And I came up with ceramic-alloy bones!"

Taylor nodded as she moved next to Amy, eyeing the drawing up and down as she cupped her chin with her new bionic hand. "Hmm, something to coat the entire skeleton of a subject in a ceramic compound I assume, to exponentially increase durability?" Amy enthusiastically nodded. "An ambitious operation, though the surgery to apply such an alloy to a subject would be rather inefficient and risky without powers such as yours. I assume this organ is a way around that?"

Amy's head bobbed up and down so fast she thought she was going to throw out her neck. "Yes! See, by attaching the Ossmodula to the pituitary gland, it will release specially designed hormones that then trigger a rapid artificial growth of the skeletal system."

"Larger bones doesn't necessarily mean denser or stronger," Taylor countered.

"I already planned for that!" Amy proclaimed. "By feeding the subject a diet laced with microscopic ceramic based minerals, the bones will naturally harden as they grow, and by the end of a period of I would say two years, your subject will have nearly unbreakable bones!"

Taylor kept staring down at the design Amy drew out, before saying, "Two years is a rather long period of time."

Amy shrugged. "I mean, with my powers I could probably do it much faster, but with the organ, unless you want the patient's bones to potentially shatter and cripple them, doing slower, gradual changes over time works much better. Give the body time to adapt. After all, as you like saying…"

"The flesh is weak," Taylor finished. "I must say Amy, this is a rather ingenious idea." Amy preened at Taylor's words. "Have you made a prototype of this yet? Or at least begun rudimentary testing?"

A wave of ice cold realization smashed into Amy. Shit, she… she had said too much! Got too excited! "I… I can't actually make a prototype," she sputtered out, trying to keep her voice level. "Like I said, this was a theoretical idea I had from our last talk. That's it."

The intensity with which Taylor stared at Amy almost sent Amy stumbling back. Not from the ecstatic excitement Amy felt while under Taylor's last gaze, but instead out of fear from the disbelief in the cyborg's level stare.

"I do not understand, which is a feat in itself. If you can create a full design, why shouldn't you be able to test it?"

Amy opened her mouth, but found no words coming out. Her throat felt so unbelievably dry. It would be so easy. She wouldn't even need a human to show Taylor she could do it. Any animal would do. A single, literal lab rat. But… no. She couldn't. Not now. Not yet. But perhaps…

The sound of a small cough cut through Amy's thoughts like a Tinkertech blade. So slowly, Amy tilted her head to the side, and from the corner of her eye, she saw both Artisan and Elysian staring at her and Taylor with awkward, yet focused stares. The two had been so quiet that Amy had forgotten about them in the heat of the operation. It seemed the pair of Tinkers were too nervous to interrupt Amy and Taylor and remind them of their presences, while simultaneously very interested in listening in on what they were talking about. And they had heard a lot.

"I can't!" She said with more force that she ever spoken to Taylor before. "My powers are healing. And nothing else!"

The quiet was heavy in the workshop as Taylor kept silent. After several long, tortuous seconds, Taylor finally nodded and said, "If you say so… Well then, if that is it, I have no further need for you, and have a payment for your service once again."

Taylor moved to retrieve some money for Amy as the latter sighed. She had fucked up. She knew Taylor would want more than just a design, and would unintentionally ask Amy to break her rules, but Amy just had to show her. She had to show someone who wouldn't find her ideas repulsive, or dangerous, but instead see the joy in creation and experimentation like she could. But now she shut Taylor out, and Taylor was back to machine-like coldness towards her. She probably hated her. Amy wanted to cry.

Amy's savior however, came from an unexpected source.

"Hey uh, boss?" Artisan asked, his voice unsteady. "Maybe we shouldn't just kick Panacea out. After all, we can't just send her out looking like…" he gestured to Amy with hands.

Amy was about to chew the boy out for referring to her like that, but she looked down at her gore drenched clothes and felt like she couldn't exactly argue with him.

Taylor sighed. "Yes I suppose I did offer to wash your clothes. Follow me, Amy, we shall get you changed. Artisan, go prepare some entertainment for our guest in my office."

Artisan nodded. "Dope. I can pull out my Xbox and we can play some Halo. I'll even call U- I mean Tempestus back to join."

"Do so," Taylor commanded. "Elysian, you may return to your duties, and when you are done, return home."

Almost petulantly, held back only by his obvious fear of Taylor, Elysian said, "How come I can't join?"

With a speed and ferocity that implied that she indeed did not have full control over her own emotions, Taylor rounded on Elysian, her echoing footfalls making the Tinker stumble back. "That is because, Elysian, you have yet to provide me with a design that I deem satisfactory." As Taylor continued to hound the boy, Amy found herself very, very grateful that Taylor's baleful gaze wasn't trained on her. The girl could be terrifying if she wanted. "Your creations are still far too bulky and power-hungry to approach any level of potential mass production. You may be the newest member here, but that does not mean I will hold you to any less of a standard that I do the others. Work with Enginseer if you must, perhaps you could modify one of her reactors for your use."

Elysian opened his mouth as if he meant to protest, but he shut it quickly after. His head was turned as he looked down, as if he were a chastised dog. "Yes boss," he muttered quietly before he left the workshop to return to the Manufactorum upstairs.

Once he was gone, Taylor turned to Artisan, who quickly fled as well, offering small apologies all the while. To Amy's surprise, before he left, Artisan turned to her and gave her a thumbs up. It was a small gesture, and Amy didn't exactly know how to interpret it before he was gone. That just left her and Taylor. And to Amy's credit, she only flinched a little when Taylor finally turned to her.

"Strip," Taylor commanded.

Amy's face went as scarlet as Taylor's robes. "What!?"

Without looking back at her, Taylor moved to the rear of her workshop and opened up the back door. It was pitch black in the back room, and one of Taylor's mechadendrite retrieved a fresh set of crimson robes from there, and what looked like a wet towel, before shutting the door. "What is the issue, I can hardly clean your clothes while you wear them."

Still red, though this time more bashful at missing something so obvious than anything, Amy nodded. "Could you at least turn around?"

Taylor didn't audibly sigh, thankfully. However the exaggerated eye roll she gave as she turned around was still enough for Amy to cringe a bit. Despite the fact that Taylor couldn't see her, her mechanical tentacle moved with perfect dexterity as it presented Amy with the Manufactorum uniform.

Amy pulled the dirty sweater off of her, a task made rather difficult by the fact that the blood made it through the clothing, making it stick to her skin. After several embarrassing seconds, Amy pulled off both her sweater and the t-shirt she was wearing underneath, leaving herself in just the bra above her waist.

With a speed that could have potentially landed her a Mover rating, Amy grabbed the towel and cleaned herself off. "You know, this would be easier if you had a shower or something. No Tinkertech scrubbers behind your secret door over there?" The ridiculousness of having to spongebath herself in Taylor's basement allowed her to regain some of her usual snark and sarcasm.

"No," Taylor's response was cold and curt. "There is nothing you need to be concerned with here. It is where I keep more of my volatile creations, as well as more general storage."

"Right, that's not suspicious at all. " Amy slowly drawled out. "Well everyone is entitled to their secrets I guess, Tinkers more than most." She finished toweling herself off, throwing her stained clothing onto the Mechadendrite before donning the red robe before her.

Taylor's mechanical arm retracted, placing Amy's clothes into Taylor's super secret room as Taylor swiftly opened and closed the door. "My drones shall clean your clothing. In the meantime, let us join the others for these games." Without waiting for a response, Taylor turned about face and made her way to her workshop's door.

She moved with such stride and purpose that Amy had to step out of the way so that she wouldn't get bowled over by the cyborg.

"Okay, jeez, let's go play some video games I guess," Amy said, annoyed at Taylor's clippedness, "Bitch," she muttered under her breath afterwards.

The duo moved back to the Manufactorm's main hall, then up a set of stairs to the second floor loft/office that overlooked the workfloor. The office was extraordinarily plain looking for the homebase of the most skilled Tinkers in the Bay. There was a desk in the middle with a TV and Xbox360 connected to it, some folding chairs spread out around the screen, and a few filing cabinets filling up the perimeter of the room.

Both Tempestus and Artisan were in the room, still setting everything up, and to Amy's surprise, both had removed their helmets. That wasn't to say that the two Capes were completely unmasking to Amy as they both wore domino masks, but it seemed to Amy that the two boys were more interested in being able to partake in the platter of chips and sodas they were laying out on the desk more than their privacy.

Artisan had a thin, almost ratty face, with a pointy chin and long, unkempt hair, while Tempestus was objectively rather handsome with a short buzz cut. Amy instinctively felt her dislike for Tempestus rise. She never trusted anyone who was handsome.

Taylor sighed at the presented tableau. "Must you two bring food in here? I would dislike attracting rats or insects into my base."

With a roll of his eyes and shrug of his shoulders, Artisan said, "Come on boss, you can't have a game night without the classic snacks!"

Tempestus walked up beside Taylor and put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll clean up after. Just relax and enjoy yourself."

Amy's eyes narrowed on the taller man as Taylor sighed and relented. "Fine, just boot up the console."

The teens all sat down, and Taylor and Amy taking the center right and right most seats respectively, while Tempestus and Artisan mirrored them on the left. Artisan handed them all controllers as the Xbox was turned on and Halo 3 was launched.

"You know, I've never actually played this game," Amy said as she turned over the controller in her hands, learning what each button was called.

"That's fine," Artisan waved off her worry. "This is Free For All Slayer, so just run around and kill whoever you see. Easy. Besides, it's not about winning, it's about having fun with a group of friends."

Amy blinked, and slowly turned her head to Artisan. Friends? That seemed a little presumptuous, after all they just met. And while Artisan and Tempestus were friendly, they were Taylor's friends (workers?), and Amy wasn't particularly interested in replicating her situation with Vicky, where Vicky's friends only tolerated Amy's presence as Vicky's hanger-on.

As she pondered this, Tempestus started up the game and said, "Yeah, you only say that because you lose every time."

Within seconds of the game starting, Amy's space soldier was shot in the head as she was still figuring out how to move around.

"Says the asshole who uses his powers to win," Artisan gritted his teeth as he was shot in the head by Tempestus with some kind of sniper rifle.

Amy respawned and took a few seconds to figure out how to jump and fire her gun. She saw a green armored soldier in front of her, Artisan, but before she could shoot, the two of them were put down in milliseconds of each other, followed by Tempestus a second after. The kill feed on the left showed that Taylor had headshot all of them in an uncannily accurate killing spree.

"Holy shit the boss is cracked!" Artisan shouted.

The three of them all respawned and the two boys tried to focus their fire on Taylor. But Taylor seemingly had perfect game sense, avoiding their shots and returning with pinpoint accuracy, killing them both again. Meanwhile Amy picked up something called a plasma grenade, and learned that she could throw it with the left trigger. Unfortunately, it bounced off a wall and stuck itself to her, killing her in the ensuing blast.

"Okay, no that's bullshit!" Tempestus cried out as he looked at Taylor. "There's no way you're that good!"

Taylor made some kind of noise behind her mask that Amy could only guess was a kind of, amused snort. "Of course I am not. But this game is merely about absorbing combat data and reacting accordingly, no? With my enhancements, it is easy for me to understand how to create the optimal plan given this environment and exact it perfectly."

"Ha!" Artisan barked out. "The boss is botting in real life! Fuck you Uber, how do you like when someone uses their powers on you?!"

"I don't use my powers to cheat, damnit!" Tempestus cursed as he leaned forward in his chair. "Until now that is." Suddenly Tempestus' character began moving erratically, now dodging Taylor's own attacks while counter attacking with plasma bolts and grenades that forced Taylor back.

Artisan whooped and hollered, calling this a real game now, but Amy was not paying attention whatsoever, the controller hanging limp in her hands. Uber. Artisan had called Tempestus Uber. Glancing to her left, she took as much of Artisan's form as she could from the corner of her eye.

While she had never been a fan of theirs, Amy had seen glimpses of Uber and Leet's streams, mostly when Vicky showed them to her after her sister had engaged them on that particular night. And to none of her surprise, Artisan's unhelmeted face looked a lot like that of Leet when he wore that stupid Mario outfit.

Tempestus was Uber and Artisan was Leet. Uber and Leet were working for Taylor. A pair of villains were working for Taylor. Amy felt a numbness return to her body, as if she were no longer piloting her own skin. Why would Taylor be okay with working with villains? Though she supposed it made sense now as to why Uber and Leet canceled their stream and announced they were retiring as villains. They retired so they could go work for Taylor.

She supposed that meant they were no longer villains, so it was probably okay for Taylor to be working with them. But… villains were villains! Just because they gave up their villainous ways didn't mean that they were automatically good people! What about due process? Or just punishment for all the people they've hurt? Was Taylor just sweeping all of that under the rug?

All of these thoughts raced through Amy's head as they continued to play their games. No one really noticed that Amy wasn't playing, as her skills while having an existential crisis were about the equivalent to her skills while actually trying to play.

Stuck within this internal loop, Amy herself barely registered the shouts between Tempestus and Artisan over Taylor's domination in the games. Vaguely, she noticed Elysian stuck his head in and announced he was leaving for the day, but she didn't pay him much mind. They continued to play for several more games, and had shifted to Team Slayer, before moving to a gamemode called SWAT. Amy wasn't entirely sure what the difference was, besides the fact that she was now dying far faster, which made her pay even less attention to the game itself.

What did catch her attention however, was when Taylor shot up out of her seat, hands at her side and no longer playing the game. Everyone turned their heads towards the Tinker, confusion now replacing the turmoil on Amy's face.

"Boss, everything alright?" Tempestus asked, his voice now serious as he rose as well.

Taylor was silent, her eye narrowing as if she saw something that disgusted her. "No," her head snapped to Amy. "My apologies Amy, but it seems I must cut our time here short. Something has come up that requires our attention. Speak to Sergeant Merrick downstairs, he will get you your things and will have someone escort you to the bus."

Amy's mouth fell open, shocked she was getting so abruptly kicked out. She had barely spent any actual time bonding with Taylor, being too distracted by the revelations of tonight. But when she looked at all of the other Capes here, she knew that this was something serious. "Did something happen Taylor? Do you need my help?"

The expression Taylor had on her face made Amy flinch. Not because it was a picture of anger or rage, but because of the sheer coldness of it. Taylor was devoid of any and all emotion, her face just an avatar for the quadrillions of 1s and 0s her mind now processed. Amy supposed she shouldn't have been surprised by this, as she was the one who helped install this change into Taylor.

"That is quite alright, Amy. This is an internal matter for our organization. Unless you wish to join us, I must ask that you leave."

Amy sighed, taking the dismissal for what it was. "Well, be careful Taylor. And call if you need anything." She stood and moved for the door. But after only taking two steps she stopped. Before anyone could say anything to her, she spun around and strode towards Taylor.

"What-"

Before Taylor could finish her question, Amy wrapped Taylor in a hug. Amy couldn't remember the last person she hugged besides Vicky. Taylor didn't exactly hug her back, as Amy's arms were wrapped over Taylor's in a grip that was too tight to be considered polite. After a few awkward seconds that passed in complete silence, Amy let go and said, "I'll see you later, Taylor."

With a slight blush on her face, Amy turned about face and practically ran out of the office.

…

The Capes inside remained dumbstruck as they watched Amy throw the door to the office open and flee down the stairs. When they could no longer hear her steps, Taylor said, "What a strange girl." Artisan and Tempestus both looked at their leader with a mixture of shock and disbelief. When Taylor saw them, she arched her brow, slightly puzzled, and asked, "What?"

Artisan's mouth worked open and closed. "I- can you not tell…" Artisan's words became a flow sputtering nonsense until he finally settled on, "You know what, nevermind, I can only help so much. So what the Hell's going on boss?"

With those words, the confusion evaporated from Taylor's face, and the hard sculpture of logic returned. "Elysian has betrayed us."

Chapter Text

Saturday, March 12…

"Oh, who could have predicted this sudden, but inevitable betrayal?" Tempestus said, his voice flat and droll. "How could Chariot, sorry, Elysian, a Tinker of unknown background and recommended by a known mastermind supervillain, and been working for us for two days, turn his back on us?"

Taylor growled at Tempestus. "If I hear another pop culture reference out of your mouth Timothy, I swear I will replace your tongue with a ham radio."

Tempestus put up both hands in surrender. "Fine. But still, the point stands. How are you surprised by this?"

"What did he even do?" Artisan added on. "He left like, what, an hour ago? What could he accomplish in so little time?"

"I've had one of my servitors monitoring the internet activity in Mr. Medina's home since he joined our organization," Taylor waved off Artisan as she moved to the computer screen, interfacing with it so she could display what she saw to her followers. "It seems that as soon as he returned home, he sent a large data packet to an encrypted account, most likely Coil."

The computer screen flickered to a low-angle video recording of the workshop, showing Amy operating on a vivisected Taylor. Elysian had apparently recorded the entirety of Taylor's procedure from a hidden camera.

"Not only did he send this, but he also sent detailed numbers of our Guardsmen and Skirtaii forces, work schedules, and even what Chariot knew about our plasma generator and Chimera projects," If Taylor could spit on the ground, she would've. "And I had such high hopes for the boy. Oh well, servitorization it is. Kill Team Ryza, bring Elysian to me."

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Tempustus shouted, waving his hands back and forth in a crossing "no" motion as he rushed to the computer. "Kill Team Ryza, belay that! Stand down!"

"Standing down," The Alpha of Kill Team Ryza said over the computer speaker, and Tempestus let out a relieved breath.

But when he turned and saw Taylor glaring at him, he stopped breathing.

"What gives you the right to countermand my Skitarii in front of me?" Taylor growled.

Again, Tempestus immediately put up his hands placatingly. "When I'm stopping you from making a huge mistake, I think I'm well within my right to do that." When Taylor's eye narrowed on him, he hastily added, "Ma'am."

"Uber's right boss," Artisan cut in. "Look, I get your first choice whenever someone fucks with you is to kidnap them and turn them into a cyborg slave. Do I agree with this approach? No, not really. Am I far too scared to go against you on it? Most definitely. But something like this?" He pointed to the computer. "This requires something more subtle."

"And you're about as subtle as a Tinkertech doomsday boss," Tempestus added on.

Taylor glared at the audacity of her two subordinates, but ultimately sighed and relented. If both of them were so adamant about this, they probably had valid reasons. "Fine. So what would you two suggest?"

The two former villains glanced at each other, and after a small mutual nod, Artisan spoke first. "Okay, well first off, unless you can perfectly Master Elysian without changing any part of his personality, you're going to tip off Coil. Coil wants to spy on us, that's obvious. And a spy we know about is far, far better than one we don't know about. This is classic espionage, and we need to Splinter Cell, Metal Gear this bitch."

Despite her emotional control enhancements, Taylor couldn't resist raising an annoyed eyebrow. "Which means?"

Tempestus followed up. "What that means is we leave Artisan alone, maybe limit his access to the more restricted parts of the Manufactorum. Hell you could even give him fake numbers on personnel or capabilities of your inventions for him to pass onto Coil. Trip Coil up by letting him know what we want to know, versus whatever he can take from us."

"And who knows, maybe if we treat Elysian with some you know, actual respect and human decency, maybe we could convert him to our side without having to lobotomize him. Worst case and this all fails, then you can cyberize him." Artisan shrugged.

Rubbing her chin, Taylor couldn't help but see the logic in their argument. While it was not the most efficient way nor full proof way to remove this spying, Taylor could appreciate the multifaceted approach to actively sabotage Coil in response to his espionage.

"Very well. We shall do it your way," Taylor conceded, eliciting a relieved sigh from both Tempestus and Artisan. "But just in case… Sicarian!"

Both Tempestus and Artisan stiffened at Taylor's shout. Moments later, a living shadow phased through the roof, solidifying as she dropped from the rafters and landed behind Taylor. Landing on a pair of digitigrade prosthetic legs attached above the knees, Scarian stood and presented everyone in the room with her terrifying glory.

The prosthetic legs were connected into what was left of Sophia's thighs, which along with her torso and upper arms, were covered in a skintight black body glove. Interlocking red-painted armor plates covered her stomach, chest, and groin, but this armor was mostly obfuscated by the flowing red trench coat she wore. The coat itself was blood red like those of the other Skitarii with a bone white trim, but unlike their coats, Sicarian's was cut off at the sleeves.

Sicarian's black gloved shoulders were all that remained of her arms. Where her biceps and triceps should have been, extended out a pair of robust, battle-ready prosthetic arms. Her left hand clutched a short, machete length single-edged blade that hummed at a low, rumbling frequency, while her entire right hand had its digits replaced with knife-long needled fingers that similarly hummed with power.

"You called, mistress?" Sicarian's voice was a harsh, binaric cant, just barely audible enough in English for Tempestus and Artisan to understand. Like all Skitarii, Sicarian's head was encased in a fully enclosed helmet. But Taylor modeled her new countenance into something that she knew Sophia would enjoy. Sicarian's helm was a red rounded skull-shaped mask, the only two holes being for her augmetic eyes. The mask's "cheekbones" pushed into a rebreather tube that covered her whole mouth and connected directly to her cybernetic lungs.

"You are aware of the situation with Elysian?" Taylor knew Sicarian was listening the whole time, but she wanted to make it clear to the others what Sicarian knew.

Sicarian bowed her head lower. "I am. Do you want him dead?"

Through her connection with Sicarian's MIU, Taylor could feel the elation at a possible hunt surge through Sicarian as her adrenaline levels spiked. And it wasn't even Taylor's mind conditioning that did that. Sophia, at her core, was a hunter. A predator. And there was nothing that Sophia enjoyed more than the idea of chasing down a target.

"Unfortunately, no," Taylor said, and there was a visible sigh of disappointment from Sicarian. "Elysian still has use to us, but by no means are we to trust him. When you are not on mission, you are to watch the boy, hound his every movement, and if he does anything else to betray us," Taylor had to resist the urge to tell Sicarian to simply kill him, "Report it to me, and we shall decide what needs to happen next."

Taylor could tell that Sicarian was holding back a roll of her eyes. On the outside however, Sicarian delivered a perfect, "Yes mistress."

Sicarian stood and moved for a nearby wall. With a thought, Sicarian shifted to her shadow form, and phased through the wall and to the outside world. Unlike her assassin,Taylor had no reservations at rolling an eye. Sophia had to be dramatic. Why couldn't she just use the door like anyone else?

Turning to her two fellow Capes Taylor said, "Are you two satisfied?"

Tempetus and Artisan glanced at one another, before they both gave a nervous nod.

Sunday, March 13th…

Coil's eyes ran down Chariot's report. The boy was as detailed as Coil hoped in everything he observed. All in all, Tech-Priest had developed as a powerbase far faster than he had anticipated. Combining the numbers of both Taylor's Skitarii and Guardsmen, the girl had nearly 40 Tinker-tech armed soldiers who protected both her headquarters and her Father, most of whom were also cyborgs.

Not only that, but Tech-Priest had a total of 4 other Capes under her command, not including Chariot. Vaguely, Coil recalled seeing Enginseer during his first meeting with Tech-Priest. But the woman didn't say a single word during the whole encounter, and based on her appearance and demeanor, Coil had assumed she was just another one of Taylor's cybernetic Skitarii.

With the fact that Chariot reported that Enginseer was a busty, blonde vehicle-based Tinker with complete and utter loyalty, coupled with the fact that there have been no traces of Squealer anywhere for weeks after Coil baited them into attacking Taylor, it wasn't hard for Coil to put two and two together. Taylor had captured Squealer, operated on her, and mastered her, getting a fanatically loyal Tinker to augment her status.

Coil would've been impressed if he weren't so utterly jealous. Kidnapping and forcing Capes to work under duress was supposed to be his specialty, and Taylor went ahead and made him look like a rank amateur. Of course, he knew from her first day as a Cape she could and would do that, it was still strange working with someone willing to go so much further than he normally would.

His annoyance for Taylor only grew as he shifted over to her next two Capes. Tempestus and Artisan, or as they were formerly known as, Uber and Leet. Now that was an acquisition of Taylor's that truly galled Coil. Like with Enginseer, Coil had seen Tempestus during his second meeting with Taylor, but again, did not know who he was, nor that he was a Cape. But besides his own failures in the meeting, he was more annoyed with how he handled Uber and Leet themselves.

Coil had thought he was the only one in the city who saw the potential of the villainous duo. They were fools, yes, content with playing the game of heroes and villains and their little streams, but Coil could see what they could be if they truly applied themselves and had access to the proper resources. Uber could be a mercenary or assassin on par with the Empire's Victor, and would be deadly if properly outfitted.

And while Leet's limitation of building something only once was concerning, the amount of funding Coil could've given him would have been enough for him to constantly build new tech without having to worry about scraping by for parts. Coil was lazy in their acquisition because he thought no one else would bother to hire them. Now, Taylor had another Tinker and a Tinkertech armed Uber under her command.

And finally, there was Sophia, or Sicarian, as she was now called. Chariot didn't have much information on her, just knowing that she had been modified into a Skitarii like the various other criminals Taylor had imprisoned. That didn't surprise Coil. He knew that once he gave Sophia over to Taylor, she'd either kill or convert her former bully, with the latter being far more likely. But Coil had anticipated she'd be Taylor's second Cape, not fourth. And while Chariot ultimately counted as his Cape, the boy would have to fight for Taylor on paper, ultimately adding to her combat potential.

All in all, Taylor's cult was growing, and growing fast. Too fast. That thought was a strange juxtaposition. After all, Coil wanted Taylor's organization to grow. But he wanted her to grow on his terms. To have her organization develop in a symbiotic relationship with his, a melding of his funds and her technology, where the two would have to remain enmeshed or face mutually assured destruction.

In some way, they already were. Coil had proof of Taylor's atrocities concerning her Skitarii and mastered Capes, meanwhile Taylor had proof of Coil supplying her with the means to make more, in addition to the kidnapping of a former Ward for said procedure. The revelation of either would damn them both, netting them immediate Kill Orders if not an outright Triumvirate intervention.

And currently, the problem was just how little Taylor cared about this possible outcome. She had her Guardsmen openly patrolling the Docks near her territory, and apparently her Skitarii were prowling the night hunting for new recruits. She was far too overt with her forces, and was growing too fast with no one to keep her in check.

Someone somewhere would eventually catch onto not only her Skitarii, but whatever other horrors Taylor was making in her laboratory. And if the gig was revealed too soon, they would all face the consequences together. Or perhaps she may grow enough in power that she may decide that she might as well cut out Coil as a middleman, and try to take him out for his resources.

At best, she may grow large enough that she could try and attract other buyers to diversify her revenue streams, but Coil had done everything in his power to prevent that from happening. It would be a cold day in Hell before Piggot purchased anything made by Taylor. And while not overly powerful, he did have some pull within enough bureaucratic parts of the government to stall any other military or alphabet organizations from buying from her in the near term.

No, Coil needed to slow her growth before any of those possibilities even came close to occurring. The simplest option would be to just stop buying technology from her. But that came with its own problems, as he still needed to be the one lifeline Taylor's organization had, and pulling out now may break whatever trust she has in this relationship.

What Coil needed was a distraction for Taylor. Something that Taylor could focus her energy and resources on rather than just continue to build and consolidate. Or at the very least, some kind of handler who could rein Taylor's rapid expansion while Coil could focus on consolidating his own power. He already had to bring in the Travelers weeks ahead of schedule in order to capture Sophia, and it took more money than he would have preferred to get Circus to join the Undersiders. But still, that wouldn't be enough.

Some of his contacts have informed him of a potential trigger named Dinah Alcott who has reported all of the signs of precog Thinker. He was forming plans to acquire her, but unlike Taylor, he was less inclined to just attack the girl in her home haphazardly. At the very least, he needed a distraction.

Not to mention he still needed to find a way to weaken the ABB's and E88's grip on their territories. His raids on the E88 have been proving fruitful, but the Undersiders had yet been able to draw the dragon out of his lair. There were so many problems, and only two timelines he could work with at a time. And Tattletale could only help him so much while she tried to slip her leash.

At the thought of his pet, an idea struck him. And after a quick double check of his security systems to make sure there were no threats, he split the timeline and in his primary, called Tattletale.

She picked up on the third ring.

"Boss?" Tattletale asked, obviously confused about the unscheduled call.

"Tattletale," he said smoothly. "I have a job for the Undersiders."

"I gathered as much," Tattletale replied dryly. "Is it the casino job?"

"No. In fact, we are putting your operations against the ABB on hold."

There was a pause in the conversation as Tattletale took in what he was saying, her powers no doubt working through what was happening. Coil let her powers run its course, if anything the more taxed she was while talking to him, the easier it was for him to keep things from her.

"So the E88 then?" She asked, her voice lacking the usual mirth and barely concealed venom. "They're the only other logical target."

"Indeed. But steps first, Tattletale. Tell me, do you recall Tech-Priest?" Coil asked with a casual tone.

Another pause. "Yeah, Brockton's resident Bonesaw junior." He could envision Tattletale pursing her lips in thought. "Or senior, depending how you look at it. What about her?"

"I want you to go to Tech-Priest's workshop and recruit her and her forces to join you on raids against the Empire. You are to go during the day and without weapons, with only good intentions. I can provide you with a list of targets and times once you accomplish this."

The pause was much longer. "Wow, you must really have a big scheme if you're pulling her into this."

"Tattletale…" he said low, warning her of digging too deep.

This time he envisioned her putting up a hand in surrender. "Okay, okay. Well, regardless, would Tech-Priest even be interested in hunting Nazis? Far as I've seen, she's more than happy to stay in her hermit kingdom, which is uncomfortably close to our base by the way."

"She will be interested," Coil said confidently. "It will be up to you however, to restrain her more… base, instincts."

"Okay, what the Hell does that mean?!" Tattletale shouted, no doubt frustrated at the lack of answers her powers were giving her.

Coil didn't hold back the chuckle that left his mouth. He wanted Tattletale to hear it, to draw what conclusions she would about the task he was setting her up for. "You shall see, Tattletale. Do not fail me." Coil hung up the phone.

Seeing that the conversation went well, Coil dropped his backup timeline and split again. In one he would stay the night here and continue to plan and research, while in the other he would return to the home of Thomas Calvert and go to sleep. After all, even he needed rest. And if he wanted to bring this wild city that was Brockton Bay under his boot heel, he'd need plenty of it.

"Tell me again why the Hell we're doing this?" Grue asked from behind his skull-faced helmet. He sat in the passenger seat of the unmarked white van that Tattletale was currently driving.

Lisa had a whole list of reasons she could've given Grue. That their boss told them to. That Coil would probably paint the walls with her brains if she didn't do it. Or even that it somewhat made sense to do so since Tech-Priest was a very powerful, nearby Cape who was relatively neutral. Actually they all made pretty decent points that Grue would accept.

"Because the boss told us to? And the fact that Tech-Priest is a powerhouse Cape who lives a few blocks down, annihilated the Merchants, and is a neutral party who might work with us?" Lisa reiterated her inner thoughts that she thought Grue was privy to.

"I hear she sells laser guns. Can I buy a laser gun?" A male voice from behind her said.

Glancing in the rear view mirror, she saw Regent leaning forward on the front seats. Regent, Bitch, Bitch's dogs, and the Undersiders' newest member Circus, all crowded in the back of the van.

Now that was a row of seats that Lisa was extremely glad she was a few feet away from. From what Lisa could tell, Circus was practically forced by Coil to join the Undersiders via either a very tempting carrot or very painful stick. Probably both if Lisa knew her boss. And they weren't particularly happy at being forced into a team dynamic. Especially when Bitch was a part of said team and sicced her dogs on them upon their first meeting.

That night ended with Circus getting stitches for dog bites and Brutus treated for 3rd degree burns.

All in all, the back seats of the van were rather tense, and Brian had his work cut out for him as team leader.

"You can buy whatever you want with your money, Regent," Tattletale said, drawing a side glare from Grue. "But I hope you have a few ten grand laying around. Tinkertech is expensive." Tattletale specifically held back that Tech-Priest's tech was cheaper than most Tinkertech, but she didn't want Regent to know that. He did not need a laser gun.

"I could save some cash from our next few jobs." Regent countered.

"We both know you don't have the willpower to do that."

Regent opened his mouth to counter, but found he didn't have an argument. "True," he said with a shrug.

"Can we get back to the topic at hand," Grue cut in, agitated. "Namely, how do we make sure we don't get blasted by a small army of Tinkertech wielding soldiers as soon as we pull up?"

Through her trademark smile, Tattletale said, "Well that's simple, we're going to drive through the front door, all smiles, and ask to see Tech-Priest."

"I don't trust it." Circus said, their voice a high tenor that sounded like it could be a higher pitch male voice or a lower pitched female voice. "Are you sure we can trust the boss on this?"

"Honestly, yeah." And Tattletale didn't even have to lie about it.

From what Tattletale could gleam, Coil had some measure of trust with Tech-Priest. Or perhaps trust was too strong of a word. Professional expectations sounded better. Which Tattletale could only surmise meant that Coil has had dealings with Tech-Priest in the past.

"Everyone just relax and let me do the talking," she finished.

Everyone groaned at her words.

Within minutes, the Tattletale turned onto the street where Tech-Priest's Manufactorum was located. When she pulled up in front of the factory itself, 3 gray-fatigued soldiers stepped in front of the van, Tinkertech rifles raised. Everyone sans Tattletale in the van tensed, small smoke leaking out Grue's helmet while Bitch's dog Angelica growled in the back seat. Tattletale ignored them all as she exited the van with both hands raised.

"Hello!" She called out with all the cheer she could force into her face when there was a gunbarrel shoved in it. "We're the Undersiders! We're here to do business with your boss!"

The two closest soldiers glanced at each other, and one whispered into a communicator in his jacket collar before shouting back, "Everyone out of the van with hands up. Tech-Priest has been informed of your arrival."

Tattletale glanced pointedly at her allies, who looked at her back in disbelief. When she glared at them harder, they begrudgingly exited the van with their hands raised as well.

They stayed like that for what felt like a few hours, but was in actuality probably only a minute at most. During their waiting, Tattletale decided to do what she did best, and let her powers roam to gather some intel.

Tattletale spied what looked like prosthetics replacing various parts of the soldiers. The first soldier had his arm replaced with an obvious Tinkertech cybernetic, and her powers supplied her that the man's stance and weapon's discipline showed extensive comfort with both firearms and high-stress situations, and that the arm was lost from an explosion. So he was most likely a veteran, either from the military or a police agency, who lost his arm, probably lost his job, and now worked for Tech-Priest in exchange for his arm back. Not a bad way for her to keep men loyal.

It was at this point that the door to the Manufactorum opened up, and two figures walked out, both of whom Coil had briefed her on. The first was Sgt. Major Merrick, the leader of Tech-Priest's Guardsmen, and the second was Tempestus, one of Tech-Priest's Capes and the former villain Uber. Luckily, both of them didn't have their weapons raised.

Tempestus looked them all over, before speaking through the modulated voice of his helmet. "Undersiders. I've heard of you guys, and not all good."

Beside her, Grue crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side, his own voice reverberated by his powers. "Funny. I don't think I've ever heard of you."

Tattletale glared at Grue. A quick gleam of her powers told her that Grue was feeling extreme frustration, most likely from his lack of control over all the recent changes, and saw Tempestus' words as a kind of challenge that he could actually confront head on. Tattletale rolled her eyes. She didn't have time for this Alpha male bullshit between Grue and Uber.

"Which is probably on purpose," Tattletale cut in. "Secrecy and all that, I get it. Speaking of secrecy, mind if we head in, rather than standing out here in view of God, Scion, the PRT, or any asshole with a camera phone to see?"

Tempestus' eyes flicked over to her, and she could tell that he was annoyed that she was right.

He stepped to the side and gestured to the door. "Come on in. But everyone on your best behavior. Somer's Rock rules. And I'm sure none of you are dumb enough to try something in a Tinker's workshop."

"Of course not!" Tattletale said with a trademark grin, moving past Tempestus and into the factory. One by one, the Undersiders followed and moved into the workshop as well.

When Circus walked by Tempestus however, he did a double take and said, "Circus?"

Circus stopped dead in their tracks and looked at Tempestus with a confused scowl.

"C'mon Circus, it's me," Tempestus pushed, and the clown's eyes widened in recognition.

"Uber?" They half shouted, voice rising in disbelief. "What the Hell? This is where you disappeared to after you ended your stream?"

"Yeah!" Tempestus excitedly said back. "And I go by Tempestus now. Leet's here with me too."

Circus' eyes looked Tempestus' armor up and down. "Well, you're looking good, Tempestus."

Tempestus scratched his cheek nervously, which was an interesting visual as he was wearing a full helmet and armored gloves. "Thanks. Perks of the job, y'know?"

"Tempestus." The grating, static voice of Tech-Priest boomed out from inside of the factory. "I would appreciate it if you didn't delay my guests any further."

Flinching as if he were struck, Tempestus coughed into his hand, clearing his throat before he said, "Right, sorry boss. Alright all of you, head in there."

Circus was disappointed as they caught up with the rest of the Undersiders, and the clown pointedly did not look at Tattletale, who was staring at them and Tempestus, drinking in all of the undertones and subtexts that their interaction had. God it was going to be fun to tease them later. But for now, they had a job to do.

The Undersiders found Tech-Priest in the center of her workshop, the robotic arm on her back holding a piece of metal she welded onto a skeletal chassis of what looked like a massive vehicle. Around her, non-Cape workers were busy cutting metal, wiring electronics, and working on the general non-Tinker aspects of the invention.

When the Undersiders reached her, Tech-Priest, put down the blowtorch and as the robotic arm retracted into her backpack. As soon as Tattletale caught sight of Tech-Priest, she let her powers go.

Augmetics now include all four limbs, made of Tinkertech-alloy that is both extremely durable and light. Servo-actuators in prosthetics extremely efficient, providing extreme dexterity and strength increases. Power armored exo-skeleton based on same design principles as augmetics, and uses same Tinker alloy, providing further augmentation of her strength and durability. Okay so all her gear turned her into a Brute, one by Tattletale's guess was probably at least a 5 or 6 minimum. She kept going with her powers.

Vehicle is modular design for a Tinkertech APC. Vehicle Tinkering is outside of her specialization. Has the ability to create technology outside of her specialty. Augmentations extend to her brain and nervous system. That one was a bigger surprise than the Brute rating. Every Tinker worth their salt builds some kind of power armor, most specialties leading into it. But vehicles were more rare, as was the ability to break out of her specialty. Did her brain augmentations enhance her intelligence that much, or was she able to modify herself to get around her limit? Either way, immediate Thinker rating too.

When Tech-Priest looked at them, her eyes slowly analyzed each of them. Analyzing each of you with hidden scanners. Now visibly more relaxed, perceives you as less of a threat. Has already set plans to eliminate all of you should you prove hostile.

Tattletale swallowed, hoping no nervousness showed on her face. "Hello Tech-Priest, nice to meet you! We are here with absolutely no ill-intentions, whatsoever!" A few of her teammates gave a side glance at that, but she was being completely truthful. From what she could tell, Tech-Priest preferred direct, efficient communication.

"Good," Tech-Priest nodded. She then turned her head to Bitch. "Rachel, it is good to see you again. I see Angelica is doing well."

Bitch just responded with, "Sup."

Now all heads shot to Bitch, none of the Undersiders able to keep their mouths close, Tattletale included.

"You know each other!?" Tattletale shouted, unable to comprehend how she didn't know this.

"Met her on a walk," Bitch replied nonchalantly.

"And you didn't tell us!?" This time it was Grue who was yelling.

Bitch just shrugged. "Didn't seem that important. And you guys didn't ask."

Tattletale felt her brain melting, and not from a Thinker-headache, when Tech-Priest interjected.

"We only met while I was out scouting for locations to expand, nothing more," she said, in her best, placating voice. "My apologies for bringing it up if it is a point of contention in your group. Shall we return to the focus of this impromptu meeting? Namely, why you are all here? Do you wish to purchase Tinkertech from me?"

"Can I buy that tank?" Regent immediately asked.

"Regent, no." Grue immediately cut in.

"Regent, yes!" He countered

"Unfortunately, Regent, no. This is still a prototype and thus not for sale." Taylor answered completely seriously. However, if you return in say, two weeks time, I will have a catalog of vehicles which you can peruse."

Regent pumped his fist and quietly whispered, "Yes."

"Is there anything else you would like to buy? I have several weapons in both lethal and non-lethal varieties, as well as a whole suite of upgrades and enhancements I can implant onto any one of you." Tech-Priest seemed to grow more excited at the prospect of someone purchasing her bionics.

Sales of her cybernetics have been abysmal, forcing her to focus on weapons development. Well that was rather unfortunate for a cybernetics Tinker.

Tattletale put up both hands to slow the mad Tinker down. "Unfortunately, I don't think we'd be able to afford anything you're selling. We're actually here to give you an offer. We wanted to see if you'd be interested in joining us for a job."

Tech-Priest sighed in an overly-dramatic fashion, genuinely disappointed that they weren't there to shop. "I am rather well read on the local Cape scene. There is not much about your team, but I know that you are a group of smash-and-grab heisters." Now Tech-Priest's good eye narrowed on them, her stance becoming more aggressive as she leaned towards them. "Now, Tattletale, if you are half as good as a Thinker the PHO thinks you to be, you should understand how I, a neutral rogue, would feel about going on a heist."

While the others around her stepped back at Taylor's intimidation, Tattletale's grin only grew wider. Tech-Priest wasn't as good of a liar as she thought she was. Tech-Priest's morals were far more flexible than most people, after all she was more than willing to sell to them, and Tattletale knew for a fact she sold to Coil. But that fact wasn't what would hook Tech-Priest in right now.

"Not even if it's against the Empire?" Tattletale said ever so sweetly.

Tech-Priest moved to respond, but cut herself off at Tattletale's words. She glared at Tattletale, eye narrowing as she thought. "Go on…" she eventually said.

Tattletale grinned. "Well you see, you may know a little about the Undersiders, but let me fill you in on a bit more. Like you said, we're heisters. Villains, yes, but Nazis? Hell no. We want to see the Empire taken down a peg like any good Brocktonite. But, we're not exactly heavy hitters," She gestured to her allies. "Bitch is mean and her dogs can take on a lot of people, but we don't have the power to take down the likes of Hookwolf, Purity, or Kaiser if things go South."

"While you think I do?" Tech-Priest said softly.

With a roll of her eyes, Tattletale let out an unimpressed huff as she crossed her arms. "Tech-Priest, I know you do. All of your guards are ex-military armed with Tinker-Tech, Uber over there is a walking super soldier, and right now you're packing enough heat to go toe to toe with an angry Lung. Hell your group's probably strong enough to be one of the top three dogs in the Bay, next to the Empire and ABB."

It was subtle, but Tattletale saw what she was looking for in Tech-Priest's response. A slight tilt of the head back, a microexpression of satisfaction and pride at being acknowledged. Something Tattletale could latch onto. But just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished behind a wall of null emotion. So, Tech-Priest had some way to manipulate her own emotions as well.

"Let us say I do have the forces you will need for such a campaign. What do I get out of this then? Outside of drawing undue attention from the Empire and the PRT?"

This time, it was Grue that cut in. "Of course we wouldn't expect you to help out of the goodness of your heart. The E88 has plenty of cash flows. Weapons trade, racketeering, drugs, dog fighting rings," Bitch's dogs let out a low growl at that. Grue continued. "Tinkering costs a lot of money. You help us, and you can help yourself to a solid fifty percent of the cash we take."

Tech-Priest rubbed her chin, thinking for a moment before saying, "Seventy-thirty."

"What!?" Grue, Regent, Circus, and Bitch all yelled while Tattletale shouted out, "Deal!"

The rest of the Undersiders turned to glare at their blonde companion, and she just gave them all a small shrug.

"Agreed," Taylor said before any of them could respond. "I will have my cut of the money and other… resources from these raids." Taylor's eye roamed up and down the Undersiders.

Assessing all of you, assessing potential for cyberization.

Tattletale's smile faltered at that line of thought. And to her horror, she saw Taylor noticed.

Noticed your change in temperament. Knows you are a Thinker. Surmising that you have some kind of knowledge of her thoughts. Knows that you know what she's thinking. Realizing that you know that she knows that you know what she's thinking.

"Well then it's agreed, I suppose." Grue cut in, unintentionally interrupting the metal battle going on between Tattletale and Tech-Priest.

"Yes! All agreed!" Tattletale shouted before her and Tech-Priest could resume their mental battle. "We have a list of suspected Empire hideouts we want to hit. They'll need to be cased first, of course, but our intel is good on this."

Tech-Priest kept her gaze on Tattletale, before nodding and saying. "Send me the locations, and I will have my forces scout. Once we have a better idea of what we are attacking, we can coordinate a time and place to strike."

"Roger that!" Tattletale gave her best impression of a soldier's salute. "Well that's all the business we had, so we really should get going. Don't want to take up too much of your precious Tinkering time!" Immediately Tattletale spun around and began shoving her team out of the factory.

"But what about my laser gun?" Regent complained.

"Shut up Regent, you do not need a laser gun!" Tattletale hissed between her teeth as she hurried her team out.

"I shall contact you tomorrow with my choice of target," Tech-Priest called out after them. "I look forward to this… partnership, and the changes it will bring to both our groups!"

Tattletale moved faster as she pushed her team back to their van.

Chapter Text

Tuesday, March 15…

Tattletale lightly tapped her foot, her arms folded across her chest as she leaned upon the alleyway's red brick wall. The building she propped up against was empty, like many of the others in this block just a short distance from the boat graveyard. It was a good thing they all were, because the entirety of the Undersiders were just waiting out in the open here in this random alley, in plain view for any flyer or overly nosy street urchin to catch them.

"Calm down Tats, I swear you're going to have a stroke or something," Regent said from beside her.

Tattletale glared at him. "Don't use your powers on me."

Putting his hands up, Regent said, "I'm not. I don't need to use them to tell you're stressed."

"And if a sociopath like Regent can tell, you know the rest of us can." Circus's effeminate voice said from behind both of them.

Tattletale moved to glare at them too, but then saw the rest of the team looking at her with emotions ranging from worry from Grue, and annoyance from Bitch. Sighing, Tattletale pulled herself off the wall and rubbed her forehead. "I don't like this."

"That's good," Grue huffed. "If you did, I'd have to kick you out as our group Thinker. Think this is a trap?"

It took a deal of effort for Tattletale to bite her tongue on the acerbic retort towards her leader, and instead she answered the question, "No. I don't trust Tech-Priest, but at the very least, I know she isn't trying to fuck us. She wants to take the E88 down. Probably more than any of us."

"Think she has some kind of grudge?" Circus added in, crossing their arms. "She's white, but it's not like the Empire has a reputation for treating white girls well."

Tattletale shook her head. "No, it's not that. It's not personal for her," she suppressed a shudder as she remembered Tech-Priest's hungry look towards them last time they met. "I have an idea of what she wants, but I need more info."

"You could just ask her." Surprisingly enough, it was Bitch who spoke next. When Tattletale looked at her confused. "What? She likes to talk about her tech. If you just asked her, she'd tell you."

Tattletale blinked. That… made a lot of sense. Too much sense. Fuck, either Tattletale was really losing her edge or Tech-Priest must be that fucking weird for Bitch to be the social guru.

Luckily before Tattletale could fall into any kind of spiral over the reversal of roles, the light hum of engines and tracks on concrete drew her attention. It wasn't overly loud. She knew tanks and armored vehicles made a grotesque amount of noise as their oversized engines worked to push tons and tons of weight. At most, the noise wasn't much louder than any normal car.

At the entrance of the alley, Tattletale saw something that caught her eye. It was like the road was… distorted. Like a heat mirage or a reflection on those slightly curved mirrors. Not enough to look like a funhouse mirror, but if one was paying attention, one could see it. Suddenly a section of the road slid sideways, revealing a doorway into the interior of an obviously sci-fi vehicle. Tattletale had to blink to get her brain to understand what she was looking at. She was easily looking at a Tinkertech vehicle that had some kind of imperfect camouflage or cloaking.

From the vehicle, Tech-Priest and her entourage followed. Tech-Priest was armed and armored in her full panoply of war gear. Under her crimson robes was her power armor. On her back was her clawed mechadendrite, and holstered on her hip was her las-pistol. Between all of her equipment and enhancements, Tattletale knew Tech-Priest was a force to be reckoned with. It was more than likely only the hardest hitters of the bay would be able to take her on in a one on one fight. And none of the Undersiders fell into that category.

But fighting Tech-Priest was completely out of the question, as she most definitely didn't come alone. Behind her came Uber, or Tempestus as he was called now, fully armored in his own gear and carrying a heavy duty TinkerTech laser gun that was attached to a powerpack on his back. But the appearance of the former villain wasn't what gave Tattletale pause. It was the squad of skulking cyborg warriors that followed the two of them.

There were seven cyborg soldiers with obvious prosthetic limbs and armor under red robes that matched Tech-Priest's own. They marched in step behind her. Perfect step. Perfect, machine precision that was not natural. Six of the cyborgs bore the same kind of armor and helmet, some kind of pseudo-cyber knight aesthetic with heavy weapons.

The lead cyborg though, skulked and skittered forward with an almost animalistic intensity. This one had digitigrade legs, and clawed fingers that Tattletale wanted to stay far away from.

"Holy shit," Regent whispered under his breath. When the others glanced at him, he continued. "I can feel those guys with my powers. Those aren't robots. They're people."

Regent's voice didn't carry any horror that his words should've. No, he was far too emotionally detached to care about something as minute as the suffering of his fellow man. He delivered his statement with the same emotion as if he was reporting on the day's weather. If anything, he may have even sounded casually impressed.

Meanwhile, Tattletale let her powers go. Cyborgs moving in perfect synchronicity. Organic builds suggests physical training and experience. Builds match those of known missing persons. Tattletale's eyes widened as she realized that these cyborgs matched the builds of the missing persons she read about in PRT reports that were affiliated with the E88 and ABB.

Okay so they're probably all gangsters. She focused on the one obvious outlier.

Design on augmetics suggests focus on agility. Claws are TinkerTech material, suggests focus on close quarters. Aggressive posture, stands apart from other cyborgs. Sees them as inferior. Okay so not likely a leadership type unit. Probably a scout or infiltration from the look of it. Build suggests female, adolescent. Is glaring at Grue. Has deep seated hate towards Grue. Is holding back because of neural implants by Tech-Priest. What the fuck? But a female teenage scout or infiltrator who hates Grue? Shit there was only one person who fit that bill. And sounds like Tech-Priest was mastering her too.

"They're not just people. They're former criminals. And that skinny one? I'm pretty sure that's Shadow Stalker," Tattletale whispered.

Grue hissed a muffled curse, while even Regent had to mutter, "Shit, that is fucked."

Fuck. Tattletale knew that Taylor could make cyborg soldiers, but she thought Taylor just had her Guardsmen. She already had one army of Tinkertech armed veterans, why the Hell did she need this second force of mastered cyborgs too? And Taylor was mastering Capes as well? Former Ward Capes? This was fucked indeed. Was this the "base nature" that Coil wanted Tattletale to curb? That fucking asshole. After all she's done for him, he just dumps Bonesaw Jr. onto her without a word of warning. Sure, she was able to piece together that this was going to happen based on their last meeting, but that didn't mean Tattletale wanted it to be true.

Before Tattletale's internal monologue could continue any further, Tech-Priest and her entourage made it to the Undersiders.

"Undersiders," Tech-Priest's mechanical voice buzzed out. "It is a pleasure to see you again." Tattletale's power registered no pleasure radiating from Tech-Priest.

"I wish I could say the same," Tattletale weakly replied. "Care to introduce your friends? I was expecting to see your soldiers."

Unmoving, Tech-Priest said, "This is Sicarian. One of the Capes under my command. These are my skitarii, my cybernetic legion more suited for operations such as this."

Tattletale pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. "Jesus H. Fucking Christ. Okay. Yep. We're doing this. Taylor. Can I call you Taylor?" Tattletale didn't really care about Tech-Priest's response. "Taylor, I'm sorry, but are you completely fucking insane?"

"My mental status has been called into question by others before."

Of course it was. That was just a statement of obvious fact, just like how the sky was blue, or that Brockton Bay was dying, or that Circus was currently eyefucking Tempestus.

"With good reason," Tattletale hissed at her, before pausing to consider her next words. With a deep breath, she spoke again. "I'm going to talk straight here Taylor, no Thinker bullshit. My powers are strong and I know that you know that I know that you can tell I use it, and I'd rather not get locked into a Thinker battle right now." The rest of the Undersiders glanced at each other confused, while Taylor simply nodded.

Tattletale continued. "Okay cool. With that out of the way, I can tell these soldiers are gangsters. And that Cape of yours? My guess, Shadow Stalker?" Taylor only stared at her, and Tattletale knew that for confirmation. "Yeah, don't worry, we won't say anything to anyone about that. I prefer my fleshy organic bits. What's done is done. Spilled milk and all that, right? What I am more concerned about right now, is your obvious desire for more gangsters to kidnap tonight. Am I right?"

Stiffly, Taylor straightened her robes. "We agreed that I could take any resources I needed from this raid last we met."

"Yeah, but the fact that the resources you want to take are people wasn't exactly discussed.

Taylor huffed, crossing her arms. "I would have mentioned that, but you and your team left so quickly such details could not be explained."

Opening her mouth to retort, Tattletale quickly shut it after she thought back to their first meeting, and how she fled after a very short conversation. "Okay, point," Tattletale could see Taylor preen with satisfaction, the bitch. "But that doesn't change my point. You cannot just be kidnapping every Cape and gangster who fights you. Yeah, we're planning on fighting Nazi's, but they're still human! They still have rights!"

"Rights," Taylor grumbled under her breath like the word was a curse. "You and your rights. Rights are nothing more than a shield for those who seek chaos to hide behind."

"Then how about the fact that it will be a gang war when the gangs learn their people are being taken hostage?" This time it was Grue that cut in. "Part of what being in a gang gets you is protection. If the gangs learn of what you're doing, they will not just let you keep going."

Taylor sighed. "You know, the last villain I worked with protested far less to my methods than you lot."

Tattletale's eyes bulged at that. Has worked with Villains before. Villain provided both monetary assistance in addition to subjects for Taylor. Subjects in Skitarii include members of Merchants, ABB, and E88. Only Coil's mercenaries spared. Coil has enough money to employ Taylor. Coil has made purchases from Taylor previously. Fucking Hell. Tattletale resisted the urge to claw her own eyes out.

Great, fucking great. Her boss is the one who set Taylor on this path to enslave Brockton's criminal underbelly, and now sent her to rein his cyborg attack dog in. She wanted to scream.

"You'll still be getting the drugs and money from today's heist," Tattletale tried to weakly counterpoint.

"At a seventy-thirty split." Circus added on quietly.

Tilting her head towards Circus, Tattletale said, "Yeah, that too! Plenty of resources that any fucked up Tinker would need for any of your wack-o experiments."

Taylor crossed her arms beneath her chest. "While the money will be useful, it is not what I need. What I require are subjects!"

Tattletale felt herself grabbing her blonde hair and pulling. This fucking psychopath was going to drive her insane. "God fucking damn it you cannot just kidnap people en masse!" She turned to her teammates, "Any help here guys?"

Regent just shrugged while Bitch seemed to lose interest in the conversation a while ago.

Grue had the decency to speak again, "Sucks having to be the conscience for someone else, doesn't it?" Tattletale flipped him off and Grue chuckled quietly before continuing. "But she's not wrong. This is Slaughterhouse or Nilbog levels of fucked up. If the PRT catches wind of what you're doing here Tech-Priest, they will come down on you and destroy you. And we'll get taken down as accessories."

"Well I could think of a solution to that," Taylor gruffly said. "You all just don't tell anyone what I do."

"God for someone who is so smart you are so fucking dumb sometimes." Lisa pulled harder on her hair. "People will notice. Even if we don't say anything, you cannot just keep spiriting away gangsters and Capes without someone accidentally stumbling into you or your goons!"

Taylor's finger twitched at that. Nervous reaction to your words. Someone has already stumbled into her operations. Most likely silenced. Of fucking course.

Okay, going over what Tattletale knew so far, her boss/captor Coil was in fact working with Tech-Priest already. More likely than not, trading money and criminals for Tinkertech. Coil was interested in a partnership with Tech-Priest, and in fact seems to want her to grow. But the fact that he called Tattletale in to work with Tech-Priest to attack the E88, with the fact that she wanted her to keep Tech-Priest under control…

"Hey, how many of these Skitarii do you have?"

Taylor's eye narrowed on her. "I do not have to answer that."

"Depending on your answer, I may have an idea to double the amount of soldiers under your control, easy," Tattletale immediately said.

"I have twenty-two skiartii and eighteen guardsmen currently fully operational."

Easy enough. So Tech-Priest had 40 Tinker-Tech armed cyborg soldiers under her command, half of which were slaves, and at least 3 Capes under her command, Uber, Leet, and Stalker. 4, if her hunch that Taylor also captured Squealer was correct. With all that, Tech-Priest could challenge the top three powers in the city. Which is what probably spooked her boss, and was why she was now Tech-Priest's handler.

He'd want Taylor to expend her forces attacking the E88, and with Tattletale's own morals, as dubious as they were, restraining her, Taylor wouldn't be able to continue to replenish or expand her numbers. And while she agreed that Taylor needed to stop expanding the way she currently was, Tattletale was also firmly in the camp of fuck Coil, so she was more than happy to play around with her orders.

"Okay! So you want soldiers. I want my team to be solidly in the moral gray, not S-rank black. And we all want money. We can compromise. If you don't kidnap anyone while we work together to keep expanding your Skitarii, I can get you dozens, if not hundreds of recruits for your Guardsmen."

Taylor's head snapped to her. "How?"

"You're not a people person, I am," Tattletale ignored Regent coughing, "Bullshit," under his breath. "And I'm a pretty good schemer, plotter, and all around mastermind. You hold back here, and I get you more recruits than you can deal with, and you can use the funds from our raids to arm them."

There was a long, stretched out moment of silence as Taylor considered them. "Fine," she eventually said, and Tattletale let out the breath she just realized she was holding. "Now then, may we finally get to the operation. I fear if I do not let Sicarian spill blood soon, I may lose control of her."

Tattletale chuckled nervously. It was a joke, Taylor couldn't lose control of Sicarian, but Sicarian wanted blood nonetheless.

Pulling out a map of Brockton Bay, Taylor pointed at two specific locations. "These will be our targets. You Undersiders shall hit here, while my… Mechancius," Tattletale noted that Taylor just came up with the name and seemed quite proud of it, "Shall strike here. Today, the Empire Eighty-Eight shall bleed."

Sicarian twirled the transonic blade in front of her idly. She could only hold the machete-sized blade in her left hand, as her right hand was replaced with a Chordclaw, which had four, elongated, needle-like claws purpose built for rending flesh, but not well suited to holding things.

Ever since her rebirth, she had never questioned her place under Tech-Priest's command. Her place was not to question, but to kill. She was her mistress's sword, a scalpel precision designed to cut away the cancer flesh that Tech-Priest commanded her to purge. Sicarian did not question, but that did not mean she did not get bored.

"Sicarian, you shall be in charge of this operation," her mistress commanded from inside the Chimera APC. "I am weary from the debate with Tattletale, and no longer desire to participate."

"You don't want me on the ground Boss?" Tempestus said with none of the respect that a prophet like Taylor deserved. He spoke like a heretic.

Tech-Priest nodded. "Yes. While we agreed that we shall kidnap no gangsters for this operation, we cannot have witnesses to link this attack to the Mechanicus. You are reluctant to spill blood, Tempestus, and I can respect that for now. You will not join the ground attack because my order for Sicarian is simple, ensure no one is left alive in the area of operation when you are done."

Sicarian felt a jolt of electricity run through her at her mistress's words. Finally, she would be let off the chain.

Meanwhile Tempestus sighed. "Well I'm this far in, why not? I pretty much guaranteed myself a Birdcage spot when I didn't rat out the skitarii. Fucking Leet dragging us into this." He muttered under his breath before he recomposed himself. "Okay, got it. At least I don't have to pull the trigger. But Boss, a building full of corpses will pull a lot of attention, probably more than if we just kidnapped them. The PRT will want to figure out who's doing it."

Sicarian could feel a sense of glee and smugness emanating from the neural network connecting her to Tech-Priest as she said, "Well, dear Tempestus, that is where our good friend Coil has given us an unexpected boon! If you recall, Coil has already taken the Arc weapons we sold him for a run against the E88. The PRT believes this is the attack of some kind of electro-kinetic Cape, and I see no reason why we should correct them."

Tempestus nodded along. "Arm the Skitarii with Arc weapons, pin the crime on this mystery electric cape. Or Coil even." He turned to Sicarian. "Well then, you need anything before you drop in?"

"I need you to stop talking," Sicarian growled out, catching her transonic razor in a reverse grip. "The hunt is about to begin."

Sitting back, Tempestus raised his hands in surrender as the Chimera approached their target. As she felt the transport slowing down, Sicarian stood, and alongside her the six skitarii of Kill Team Ryza. In a flash, Sicarian felt her mind open up to the other skitarii, part of the phylactic communion they all shared with Tech-Priest. Each individual skitarii including herself would feed their senses to Taylor, and she in turn would disseminate that data to all of them. It made for perfect coordination.

The Chimera came to a stop and the side hatch slid open, allowing Sicarian to jump through, transonic razor now thrumming with power, as the skitarii followed, dimly lit by the blue glow of their Arc weapons.

"Have fun," her Mistress said over the radio. And Sicarian would.

On ground level, Sicarian took in the structure she was to assault. Her internal GPS told her that she was on the very southern edge of downtown, away from the PRT or New Wave's homes. Which meant no likely hero response. They were in a parking lot, by a loading ramp for a large building. It was a solid, two story furniture warehouse, a front for the E88. Glass windows ran along the front of the building, but they were at the back where there were no obvious openings to see inside.

With a flick of her thoughts, Sicarian activated her prey sight auspex. While she couldn't exactly see through walls now, the range of scanners and sensors her visor used was able to give her an approximation of people within the building, almost like sonar, as well the currents of electricity running through the walls.

There were seven targets here. Four were milling about near the back, and she could see weapons in their hands. Security, obviously. In the far back of the store, were the other three. They were unarmed, moving around a large heat source. Her prey sight detected various chemicals, and a high concentration of ammonia. A meth lab.

Activating the phylactic communicator she had with the Skitarii of Kill Team Ryza, she sent her commands. Breach and clear procedure Ryza-01, take the cooks. Wait on my engagement.

Acknowledged. Was the simple reply.

And it was all Sicarian needed. The skitarii were well trained, they would know what they're doing. Kill Team Ryza moved to a back door, an emergency fire escape, as Sicarian flexed her prosthetic legs and leaped.

Sicarian flew above the store and flexed her powers to become a shadow and land atop the building with barely more than a whisper. Re-materializing, Sicarian used her prey-sight to look for a good entrance from the room, one without electrical wiring that would make her entry impossible.

The best entrance she found was still the rooftop's large, triangular skylight, and her internal emotion augury registered joy when she realized it was right above the guards. They were all sitting around a table, seemingly drinking and playing cards, weapons by their sides or on the table.

Her cranial implant released a surge of combat hormones into her brain. Dopamine, endorphins, oxytocin, and half a dozen other chemical stimulants flooded her mind, as a wide smile split her face. She was going to have so much fun.

Shifting to her Breaker state, Sicarian phased through the window, and landed right on top of the table. The men inside gaped at the appearance of the shadow monster in front of them. They didn't have time to reach for their weapons before Sicarian activated the transonic blade.

Immediately, the eyes of the men bulged and they doubled over, clutching their stomachs as the high-frequency waves vibrated throughout the room disorienting all of tem. Capitalizing on this, Sicarian chopped the razor towards the first neo-Nazi. Between the blade's razor sharp edge, Sicarian's augmented strength, and the high-frequency vibrations of the blade disrupting molecular bonds of the gangster's organic matter, the sword cut cleanly through the man's head with little effort.

Sicarian had cut diagonally, starting from the man's right ear to the lower part of his left jaw. The man had a moment to touch his head, fumbling as he tried to feel for the injury, only for the top half of his skull to slop off at his slight touch.

Behind her, Sicarian heard another gangster vomit. Without turning, Sicarian kicked backwards with a rear horse kick, her steel heel slamming into the chest of the vomiting man. Sicarian felt the ribcage of the man break, folding in under the pressure as he flew backwards and into a 6-drawer dresser. He was unconscious, but Sicarian would finish him off later.

To her left, a third gangster who had a stronger mental fortitude than his fellows, tried to reach for a pistol in the back of his pants. Sicarian lunged at him and drove her chordclaw into the meat and fat of his stomach. Blood poured out of the man's mouth, then Sicarian turned the claw on.

Where the transonic blade had only one high-frequency emitter to increase the sword's cutting power, the chordclaw had four. The confluence of the four talons' sonic waves sent resonant frequencies throughout the man's that not only sliced, but destabilized. The muscle, fat, and organs within the man's stomach lost all molecular cohesion, turning to a jelly-like soup, a primordial ooze of organic material.

Sicarian drove the chordclaw up, through the ribcage and into the chest cavity, jelly-fying the man's heart and lungs. She ripped the claw out, flicking her fingers to remove some of the organic material from her digits.

Part of Sicarian wanted to take a moment to appreciate the slaughter, but a warning rune took her attention. One of the skitarii from Ryza was looking at Sicarian via his own prey sight from the kitchen. All of the skitarii had access to each other's ocular feed, and from his viewpoint, Sicarian could see the final gangster had stumbled back and picked up a rifle from the ground and was struggling to raise it at her. This transfer of data took less than a millisecond.

Whirling about, Sicarian threw her transconic blade. The sword flew point first, piercing the man center mass. The blade sunk into the man's torso till it was hilt deep. With a wet gurgle, the man stepped back, gun falling from his grasp with him following not long after.

Relaxing, Sicarian checked her internal chronometer. 8.4 seconds. That's how long it took her to kill or disable those four targets. She frowned. It was slower than she would hope, but within acceptable parameters.

Turning her attention back to the skitarii of Kill Team Ryza, she saw that they were done with their assault as well. A simple door breach, followed by a stun grenade, and then death by electrocution for the cooks.

"Secure the materials," Sicarian commanded. She didn't really need to give a vocal command, as they all knew the mission parameters, but it was never a bad thing to be thorough. Finished product, chemicals, tools and materials, and most importantly any money here would be taken back the chimera.

Walking over to the body of the final gangster, Sicarian withdrew her transonic blade and cleaned it on her robe. Sicarian took a deep breath, a grating static noise through her respirator. Ever since her rebirth, Sicarian didn't remember much about her past life. She had flashes occasionally, ghosts of images that appeared while she rested, but none of that mattered.

With her role as Tech-Priest's blade, Sicarian found herself… content. Thanks to her mistress, she could pursue the one thing she knew she was made for. Her purpose in life. She could hunt. She could be the predator that she was meant to be. And she would relish every moment of it.

"Alright, load up the dogs, let's go!" Tattletale shouted as the last duffle bag of cold, hard cash was thrown onto the back of Judas.

The Undersiders' part of the plan was simple. They were the distraction team. They were to hit an Empire money laundering scheme, which happened to be an actual laundromat, the uninspired hacks, steal all of the money, make a ton of noise, and get a ton of eyes on them while Taylor and her team would stealthily attack their target.

And that plan worked out in spades. After breaking through the front door, Tattletale took a bit longer than normal breaking into the various safes they had in the back. Long enough for the Empire goons who were hiding from them called in reinforcements, which came in the form of Capes.

Luck however, seemed to fall in favor for the Undersiders tonight, as said Capes were Rune and Alabaster, flying in on a huge piece of concrete controlled by the girl. That was a jackpot, no two ways about it.

It was simple work for Regent to get control over Rune and send her and Alabaster tumbling off their ad hoc transport. Alabaster let himself hit the ground hard, his power resurrecting him in an instant.

But in the time it took for him to resurrect, Bitch's dogs closed the distance. Brutus and Angelica gripped onto Alabaster's left arm and right leg respectively with their massive fangs. The ability to heal from any wound didn't mean shit when you were pinned by two angry, monster dogs with no way out. Alabaster tried to punch Brutus to no avail, and within moments Circus got to him, bent his free arm back and slapped a pair of handcuffs on it. Brutus let go of his left arm and Circus finished restraining him.

While that was happening, Rune struggled to hold onto her rock as she careened towards the ground. The ground shook when her platform hit the street, almost throwing Tattletale off her feet from inside of the laundromat. Before she could recover and throw a counter attack, Grue covered her in darkness. Blind and deaf, Rune could do nothing as Grue clocked her in the back of the head and knocked her out cold.

It was a clean job with a solid payday. They got a nice bag of about $12,000, got to take down two Empire Capes which would drag the Empire's rep down while boosting their own up, and did all that without killing or maiming anyone!

It was nice, clean, simple villainy that caused no extra drama. And if Taylor kept her own end of the bargain, which she wasn't sure she would since it was so fucking hard to read the cyborg, then everyone would leave tonight happier and richer.

Tattletale heard the sound of car engines coming. Big, muscle cars that screamed mid-life crisis male ego. Which meant Hookwolf and friends were coming. Tattletale climbed onto the back of Judas and shouted, "Move it people, Empire's got reinforcements coming!"

At her words, the rest of the Undersiders mounted their dogs and with a whistle from Bitch they were on their way. Tonight was a win for them, but she just really hoped Taylor didn't make a huge fucking mess tonight and give her an even bigger headache. Fuck Coil for making her do this shit. Tattletale just hoped that she was able to accomplish her goal of subverting Taylor before she was dead, in prison, or cyberized herself.

Chapter Text

Wednesday, March 23rd…

To Taylor's surprise, crime seemed to move at a slower pace than she expected. It had been only slightly more than a week since her raid on the E88 alongside the Undersiders. She thought there would be more follow up attacks, lightning raids to pressure the Empire, but instead the Undersiders wanted to hold and consolidate for a moment. That suited Taylor, as she had much to go over from the last raid. It was a comfortably profitable attack, getting nearly twenty-five thousand dollars between the two groups.

Sure it wasn't a lot of money, but she didn't expend any resources outside of fuel for the Chimera, and combined with the meth-making tools and chemicals stolen she could repurpose to the creation of her own Tinkertech pharmaceuticals, she was content with the results. Tattletale seemed less enthused with how their mutual raid together went, but she seemed like an overly excitable girl to Taylor, prone to vapours. Taylor supposed she could help her fix that. A simple cortex implant to bring her mental faculties under control. Perhaps she'd bring it up to her at their next meeting.

In the after action debriefing following their last raid, Tattletale had howled and shrieked about Taylor's performance like she was a daemon possessed voxcaster. After the Thinker was done yelling her voice raw, Taylor countered and pointed out had acted to letter on their agreement, not kidnapping any of the E88 members despite her desire to do so. It was Tattletale's fault that she didn't specify that she didn't want them killed either. And Taylor still expected the Thinker's help for ideas on how to expand her forces. And to the surprise of her teammates, Tattletale capitulated.

Under Tattetale's advisement, Taylor shifted her funds to a new public facing project. Addiction removal services, focusing her power on the development of Detoxer and mental implants that would make relapsing impossible. And while such a service would normally cost far beyond what most of the dregs in Brockton Bay could afford, Taylor would offer these services for free to anyone who needed it, in exchange for servitude.

It was a simple contract. Taylor would remove any addictions or even diseases they had in exchange for a year of service either as a Guardsman, or as a laborer in the Manufactorm. Their contract was even somewhat generous in weekly pay for Brockton Bay, which Taylor wouldn't be able to sustain for long term until she got her finances in order, but it was a good incentive for now.

Because of this, Taylor's numbers swelled. Unsurprisingly, many of the new recruits brought in were former Merchants. Low level members who were forced into the gang and hooked on drugs they didn't want were the most common applicant to Taylor's program. They wanted out of the criminal lifestyle, and the destruction of the Merchants left a gap in the drug trade, making it harder for them to get their next doses, with many suffering from severe withdrawal.

In addition to them, Tattletale suggested that Taylor focus on recruiting minorities that didn't fit into either the ABBs or E88s neat, racial boxes. Blacks, Hispanics, South Asians, Middle Easterners, Eastern Europeans, Jews, and members of any other oppressed community would be welcomed by the Mechanicus.

The next step was to increase positive public perception of the Guardsmen. Before, the Guardsmen only protected the few factory buildings owned by the Mechanicus. But with the swelling of their numbers, Tattletale suggested having them push out, patrol out several blocks into the docks, and report or intervene in crime whenever they saw it.

This gave the Guardsmen the appeal of a kind of Cape-backed neighborhood watch or public safety department invested in protecting the people within the Mechanicus' territory, instead of a gang enforcing its rule.

And while Taylor wouldn't arm the new volunteers or the former Merchants with Tinkertech yet, partially because there simply wasn't enough to go around nor did she trust the new recruits to actually fight yet, their numbers would act as an auxiliary force which would patrol and watch over the territory, and would call in either veteran armed Guardsmen or even Taylor's capes when necessary.

By the Omnissiah, Tattletale even suggested opening up a donation line to help fund the Guardsmen. And surprisingly enough, many local businesses and more prominent individuals such as landlords, donated sums to this line so they could get areas around their properties patrolled. They were like the Boardwalk enforcers. A public group whose overt presence led to a reduction in gang tags, broken windows, and actual muggings, leading to better business and happier tenants.

This brought the Mechanicus' territory and influence to a full 5 block radius around the Manufactorum itself, a not insignificant territory within the docks that pushed up against the borders of the Boardwalk and Lord's Street Market to the East, and the known ABB territory to the West. That was somewhat dangerous, as Taylor did not want to poke the dragon yet, so patrols in that area were kept to a minimum, or done by her Capes and Skitarii.

Regardless, in a single week's time, Tattletale had helped Taylor's forces triple in size, expanded her territory exponentially, and even brought in a new, albeit small and inconsistent, revenue stream. Taylor had to promote Sgt Major Merrick once more, making him her Captain of the Guard with Lieutenant Mira as his direct subordinate to organize the near 100 Guardsmen under her command now, while the other original Guardsmen were raised to various NCO or officer roles. Taylor would definitely have to look into getting Tattletale brought into her organization full time.

She didn't think attempting to poach Tattletale from her current role in the Undersiders would be too difficult, but it would require some diplomacy. Which is what led her to her current predicament, as Undersiders sat within the Manufactorum office alongside herself, Enginseer, Tempestus, and Artisan, planning their next attack.

"No," Taylor flatly said much to Grue's and Tattletale's dismay. "I will not cede command of my forces." She had the best tactical mind out of all of them. Giving up control over any one of her units was lunacy.

"God, fucking, damnit, Tech-Priest," Tattletale breathed out. "After all the shit I did for you over the last week, you fucking owe me."

"Your services rendered were part of our established verbal contract," Taylor's voice was as flat as pneumatically leveled sheet metal.

Tattletale rubbed her temples. "Yes, a contract you agreed to in writing but not in spirit. Look Tech-Priest, I could have left you high and dry, done the bare minimum to help you expand, but instead I busted my ass so you could profit." She pointed her finger at Taylor. "And now? That deal is done. I don't have any further obligation to help you, and honestly, I don't want to unless you give a fucking inch."

Taylor narrowed her eye at Tattletale. Of course the Thinker would know of Taylor's desire to work further with her. And that put Tattletale in a position of power in negotiations, and the blonde was intent on taking advantage of that. An annoying reversal from their last meeting.

"But what you ask of me is unreasonable," Taylor countered.

"Your actions in our last job were unreasonable," Grue said back, his voice stern. "We explained the rules to you. Killing those people? That means escalation. The Empire won't take it lying down, and the PRT will definitely be getting involved in the investigation. You need to rein it in."

Taylor grit her teeth, before shunting her anger away into her emotion vault. "So you would seek to neuter my forces."

"We'd seek to bring you in line with what is expected," Tattletale said, "Bring this back down to the game of cops and robbers, before there's a gang war on our hands. Diplomacy is a two-way fucking street Tech-Priest. If you want me, or Armsmaster, or anyone else to keep talking to you, you need to play ball."

Taylor sighed, mentally calculating how difficult it would be to capture all of the Undersiders and mind-slave them. But she threw that idea away. Tattletale's use came not only from her powers, but her personality. She couldn't risk losing that.

"Fine," Taylor grumbled. "You may have command of my forces for this next raid. What is the plan?"

With a satisfied smile, Tattletale pointed at the map in front of them. "Okay so, Bitch has been getting antsy and wants to hit one of Hookwolf's dog fighting rings. We have the location of a few of his rings, and the largest is right here," she tapped the map on a warehouse at the Northeast part of Downtown, close to the docks.

Taylor nodded. "A fair target. Although, this would put us in direct confrontation with Hookwolf."

Tattletale grimaced. "Yeah. It's risky, but our last attack seems to have the Empire rattled. Especially after the stunt you pulled at the meth lab, they're being cautious. Almost all of their smaller operations have gone to ground, and pretty much only the dog fighting ring and their weapon smuggling ring are active right now. Since Bitch wants to hit Hookwolf, this seemed like a good way to hit two birds with one stone."

Taylor glared at her, but when Tattletale showed no sign of budging, Taylor threw away the thoughts of shooting her with her lasgun and grunted in acceptance. "Right. Well, how would you two want to organize my forces?"

"No Sicarian," Grue immediately said. "I get she's your most important muscle, but she's a loose cannon that I don't trust not stabbing me in the back."

"Shadow Stalker tried to kill Grue back when she was still a normal, fleshy human," Tattletale added on. "We get you Master her now, but it seems like she still really likes killing, and we don't want to trust our lives to her."

Taylor blinked in surprise. She was not aware that Sophia had attempted to murder others besides herself. She recalled hearing she was forced into the Wards due to her excessively violent tendencies, but nothing more than that. She wondered if that was indicative of a cover up on the side of the PRT, or their own incompetence in uncovering Sophia's crimes. A moot point now, but perhaps something she would set her servitors on to research.

"I suppose I could make that concession," Taylor said. "Myself and Tempestus, alongside a Kill Team of Skitarii should be enough for this mission. Perhaps Sicarian could be relegated to a support role? Backup should we require it?"

"Works for me." Tattletale said. She looked at Grue, and after a brief pause, he nodded. "And speaking of your Skitarii," she continued behind a grin. "We want them running non-lethal. You can bring heavier stuff for Brutes, but no killing! No disintegrations, no electrocutions, no destabilization of matter, and no other highly creative ways to end someone's life that I couldn't think of."

Taylor snarled, her augmetic hands gripping into tight fists. But shunted out the anger into her vault once more, and sighed. It wasn't like she hadn't originally planned on using non-lethal weapons before, back when she wanted to capture the neo-nazis. "Fine. I can arm them with taser goads and hard-light lasguns."

"Great!" Tattletale clapped her hands. "With that squared away, the plan itself is simple. If Hookwolf isn't there, Bitch goes in ahead of us with her dogs, and when she's in, grows them to cause havoc. The Undersiders follow up during the Chaos. Move inside to secure any normals while Bitch frees the dogs. I get you want to keep your cyborg-slaves secret still, wonder why you'd want that, but you all can be on the rooftops as overwatch. Take out any stragglers who leave or try to come to help."

Taylor considered the plan carefully. "And if Hookwolf is there?"

"I'm not leaving without those dogs," Bitch growled.

Tattletale sighed. "If Hookwolf is there, and I'm praying he's not. We'll need to draw him outside. We definitely can't take him on our own, but with help from your forces, we should be able to take him down."

"I do not wish to commit my forces into a confrontation where we may be recognized," Taylor said. "We will engage from above and pin them down in a killbox, but that is all."

Grimacing, Tattletale nodded her head. "Alright, suppose that's the best we'll get. Let's get this party started."

Tech-Priest dismounted the cameleoline-clad chimera, alongside Tempestus, the Undersiders, and her six Skitarii into an alley across the street from their target. It was dark, just after midnight, and since most of the apartments and businesses on this street were out of business, there were very few, if any lights. Only a few street lights were on, and even those were sporadic.

"God, an invisible APC," Circus shuddered, examining the translucent APC. "What I could do if I had one myself. I don't suppose you could make a smaller vehicle? Maybe a bike or a sports car?"

Taylor opened her mouth to say no, but then shut it, humming before she responded. "To be honest? Enginseer could probably make you a Tinkertech motorcycle. It wouldn't go invisible, since the cameleoline is a paint that covers the vehicle, so you as the rider would still be visible," Taylor tapped her chin in thought. "Though if you wore a matching cloak, that would cover that weakness. Speak to me after this, and we can hash out the price and details."

Circus pumped their fist and quietly exclaimed, "Yes!"

Meanwhile Regent, his face covered by his mask, stumbled back in a show of exaggerated betrayal. "What!? Why does Circus get a Tinkerbike and I can't even get a laser pistol!?"

"Because Circus has a lot more money than you saved up," Grue answered gruffly. "Now shut up. Job is a go."

With that, Bitch moved with her dog Brutus towards the Downtown warehouse that hosted Hookwolf's dog fighting ring. With her own command, Taylor sent the Skitarii and Tempestus up to the roofs of the nearby abandoned apartment buildings.

It was a bit of an awkward climb for Tempestus, as he had the latest version of Elysian's grav-chute on his back, but the boy made do. The grav-chute made it impossible for Tempestus to bring his backpack-powered hotshot lasgun, and instead brought the blocky, lightning spewing arc rifle in case they needed heavy fire power.

Meanwhile, of the Skitarii Talylor brought, she brought the six members of Kill Team Metalica with her. These were all the former E88 members, some of whom were the ones Vicky had brutalized. Taylor brought them specifically because she wanted them to fight the E88, as she felt there would be some kind of, poetic justice, in having the redeemed Skitarii strike down their former comrades.

Taylor followed after them, lying prone atop the rooftop next to her Skitarii. It was a bit of an ordeal for her to get up, as between her augmetics, her power armor, her servo arm, and her newest weapon, her Omnisian Axe, the fire escapes creaked and groaned as they threatened to collapse under her weight. The Omnisian Axe, was a long, two-handed polearm weapon based on Armsmaster's halberd, but instead of a plasma blade, it had a cog shaped axe head.

Activating her own prey sight auspex newly integrated into her bionic eye, she gazed into the warehouse. And she set her lips into a tight frown and said into her communicator. "There's at least fifty people inside, milling around the ring, and maybe half a dozen dogs."

"Damn that's a lot." Tattletale responded. "Can you tell how many are gang members or Capes?"

"Unfortunately, no. I can only get a sense of where they are, no more details than that."

"Okay. What's the call?" Tattletale asked.

Taylor almost answered, but Grue spoke first, "Too risky to sneak in. That's almost double what we expected inside. We're going with plan B. Bitch, open it up."

With the sounds of popping bones and growling dogs, Bitch transformed her three dogs into the monstrous hell hounds Taylor had heard of. With a command from Bitch, the monsters rushed the steel warehouse door and tore it open with their fangs. The instant the doors opened, Grue flooded the warehouse with darkness. Taylor noted with interest that her own auspex could not pierce Grue's shadows.

When people stumbled out, fumbling through darkness, they were met by either Regent sending them crashing to the ground and tasing them, or a solid hit from Circus' hammer. Any who made it past them were scythed down by the hardlight lasgun shots from the Skitarii. Bitch kept her dogs back however, unable to command them in Grue's darkness.

A little over a dozen neo-Nazis were knocked out by the time Grue cursed and shouted, "Get back!"

With the grace of a dancer, Circus flipped backwards while Regent stumbled away as fast as he could. And out of the shadows the grinding, twisting, metal form of Hookwolf pounced out of the buildings, sliding on the street and creating a constellation of sparks as his metal blades skidded across the cement.

Hookwolf, currently in the lupine figure of his namesake, tilted his head left and right as he took in the Capes before him.

"Undersiders," he growled. "Hitting us twice in a row? I'll admit, you kids have guts. I'll enjoy ripping them out of you." Hookwolf leaped forward, charging right for the biggest targets, Bitch's dogs.

"KILL!" Bitch shouted, and Brutus, Judas, and Angelica all pounced towards Hookwolf in response.

Taylor hadn't ever seen that much blood before, even on her Manufactorum operation table. Bitch's dogs bit and clawed at Hookwolf, tearing apart metal. But covered in spikes and bony plates as her dogs were, they were still flesh, and Hookwolf's blades bit deep.

The other Undersiders moved to help, were stopped when a gust of wind split apart Grue's darkness, and two figures walked out of the entrance. The first was a well muscled, shirtless man wearing a tiger mask, while the second was a scar covered woman, with her hair shaved into a blonde buzzcut and a metal cage worn around her head. Stormtiger and Cricket. Stormtiger already had some of his trademark blades of air formed into claws, while Cricket loosely held her two kamas.

In an instant, the two cage fighters picked their targets and attacked. Stormtiger launched his air claws right at Regent, who was able to use his powers to flick Stormtiger's aim just off balance enough that he didn't decapitate the boy. Stormtiger kept charging however, chasing after Regent as Tattletale called over to him, aiming her pistol at Stormtiger.

Meanwhile, Cricket rushed Circus and Grue. Circus threw a handful of knives at the woman, but Cricket spun her kamas like a fan, deflecting the knives and knocking them out of the air. Cricket closed on Grue and swung her kamas in a diagonal strike. Grue was barely able to dodge out of the way and deliver a jab-cross in return, but Cricket rolled with the punches, spinning and slashing her blades along Grue's back. The leader of the Undersiders grunted, stumbling away as he produced more darkness to cover his retreat.

As this all occurred, Taylor saw the darkness at the warehouse dissipate, and with Hookwolf's counter attack, the unpowered E88 members inside rallied, grabbing their own weapons and charging outside. Some only had melee weapons like bats or pool cues, while others drew small pistols, while others came out from the back wielding shotguns and rifles.

All in all, the situation was deteriorating quickly, but this was why Taylor was here. With a mental flick, Taylor marked the shotgun and rifle wielding gangsters as high-priority targets, with the pistoleers as secondary ones. Kill Team Metalica was instantaneously set upon them, firing down hard light bolts from their elevated position onto the unsuspecting gangsters. Six shots immediately rang out, and six neo-Nazis dropped.

As the Skitarii fired another volley, Taylor turned to Tempestus. "Bitch needs help, her dogs do not have the power to take down Hookwolf. You do," Taylor pointed at the arc rifle in his hands. "Get down there and run interference."

Tempestus sighed, his carapace armor shifting as he did so. "It's a good thing you give us really great healthcare, boss," he muttered, before he stood up, flicked on his grav-chute, and jumped off the roof.

Elysian's newest invention, the grav-chute, was a rather remarkable piece of Tinkertech. While the boy hadn't been able to create a jetpack that Taylor could easily reverse engineer and mass-produce, the grav-chute was a good middle ground technology. Using some of Artisan's tech as inspiration, namely his research into the graviton rifle, Elysian created a backpack that emitted two small anti-gravity suspensor fields. These fields would slow and control the fall of the user instead of propelling them upward against gravity. This made them perfect for jumping off of buildings or out of aircrafts.

And Tempestus used full advantage of this slow-fall to perfectly line up a shot with his arc rifle, his armor turning slightly blue from the weapon's back light, and fired. A lighting bolt flew out of the arc rifle at the speed of light, slamming into Hookwolf and sending the metallic beast flying backwards. To Taylor's disappointment, the lightning didn't instantaneously electrocute Hookwolf to death. But it did rip a solid chunk of blades out of his flank, even if Taylor couldn't see the man underneath the metal yet.

Hookwolf slowly pushed himself up, turning his head towards Tempestus as he landed onto the ground, then up to the rooftop where Taylor was, where he could see flashes of blue hardlight flying out. He turned back to Tempestus and Bitch, whose dogs were retreating and trailing blood.

"Who the fuck are you?" Hookwolf snapped at Tempestus. "Some new hero?"

Tempestus charged up his arc rifle again. When he spoke, he spoke with the ease and practiced confidence of a movie star with a slight Southern drawl. "Hero? I'll tell you what, pilgrim. I'm not the new sheriff in town, here to bring law and order. But you can call me Tempestus. Because what I do bring, is the thunder!" Tempestus shot off another bolt from his arc rifle.

However, while lighting was fast, it only traveled in the straight line, and Hookwolf was already moving as Tempestus monologued, and the arc of electricity slammed into the factory wall behind Hookwolf. Tempestus cursed as he backed up, charging another shot as Bitch's dogs went in for another round.

"You know, it's not thunder," Taylor said on a private channel to Tempestus. "Thunder is caused by the rapid expansion of heated air from lighting. You couldn't really call shots from the arc rifle lightning either, as that is specifically the natural phenomenon of electrostatic discharge…"

"Nerd explanation for when I'm not actively avoiding death, boss!" Tempestus shouted as he shot Hookwolf again, melting off blades like ablative armor as his voice returned to normal as his power focused on something else, probably acrobatics.

Taylor stifled a chuckle as she took in the battlefield again. Tempestus would give the edge Bitch needed to turn the fight against Hookwolf. The arc rifle was stronger the closer the user was, and on ground level as close as Tempestus was, it wouldn't surprise Taylor if it was Legend strong. Tempestus would crack the nut that was Hookwolf while Bitch's dogs would keep him alive. Another lightning bolt slammed into Hookwolf, sending the scent of ozone and melting slag into the air as Bitch's hounds howled and jumped on him.

Meanwhile, Kill Team Metalica was making short work of the unpowered gangsters inside of the dog fighting ring. Those gunmen who already weren't knocked out, or the unpowered goons who picked up firearms from their fallen comrades were fighting at a severe disadvantage. They were fighting from a lower position, the Skitarii weren't. They were shooting at shadows in the dark, the Skitarii had night vision. They were scared shitless. The Skitarii knew no fear. Taylor left the Skitarii to their own combat routines. They could finish up their conflict.

Taylor turned to check on Grue again. Grue stumbled out of his cloud of darkness where he had been fighting Cricket, with Circus stalking the perimeter and looking for opportunities. He was bleeding more profusely than she thought he would be. The cuts across his jacket and shirt looked shallow, but Taylor thought that he would be able to take Cricket down easily given his martial skill and the advantage of complete darkness. Cricket must have some way to counter his darkness.

When Cricket jumped out of the darkness toward Grue, Circus intervened, blocking the scythes with her knives, when Tattletale's voice shouted to her over the radio.

"Need help! Stormtiger can dodge bullets and he is very mad!" Tattletale screamed.

Whipping her head back to Tattletale and Regent, Taylor saw the sleeve of Regent's puffy white shirt was now crimson with blood, and the boy retreated to another alley, while Stormtiger closed on Tattletale. Her face, panicked, Tattletale shot three more times from her pistol. The first shot went wide even without Stormtiger's intervention as Tattletale shot rapidly. The second shot he dodged as he shifted his body to the side, and the last he blocked with a shield of wind.

Stormtiger smiled, raising his hand to fling his aerokinetic blade right through Tattletale.

Taylor reacted immediately. She needed Tattletale alive, and she wasn't going to let some shirtless, Nazi hooligan take her from her. Within milliseconds, two things happened. First, her mind performed the necessary calculations and automatic adjustments to aim her las-pistol and perform a perfect shot. Second, she flicked the las-pistol from hardlight, to lethal.

Stormtiger had already shown he could dodge bullets at close range at subsonic speeds. The hardlight rounds of her las weaponry had mass, and were far slower than the light based laser attacks.

With a pull of the trigger, a ruby-red laser of light shot out of the las-pistol, and slammed right below Stormtiger's right shoulder, burning right through the meat and bone of his upper arm. The Cape screamed, falling to his knees as the rest of the connective tissue of his bicep, tricep, and humerus disintegrated, removing the arm completely from his body.

Taylor flicked the las-pistol back to non-lethal and shot Stormtiger in the back of the head. The battle field froze for a split second as Stormtiger fell to the ground, unmoving.

"TIGER!" Hookwolf howled, bowling forward with a renewed ferocity and intensity that wasn't there before.

He moved faster than anyone expected, slashing his way through Brutus and Judas, before he dove full force towards Bitch and Tempetus. Tempestus swore, and instead of shooting at Hookwolf, grabbed Bitch and threw them both to the side and out of the path of the murder blender. He was only partially successful.

As Tempestus dragged the two of them down, they avoided getting turned into clouds of red mist and viscera from a full impact. Instead, Hookwolf hit them both with a glancing blow. Unfortunately, a glancing blow from a pile of chainsaws was far from good.

Tempestus got out far better, as Hookwolf's blades slashed across his carapace armor. It dug deep into the metal, but didn't fully penetrate. The sheer amount of blades on Hookwolf meant that he still took some glancing cuts through his undersuit, but that was nothing compared to what happened to Bitch.

Hookwolf's shoulder bashed Bitch's entire right side, and her right arm just vanished, gone in a splash of blood and bone fragments like it was a water balloon. Hookwolf's blades raked across the rest of her flank, slashing across the right sides of her face, torso, and leg. Bitch didn't even have time to scream before as she collapsed onto the ground in an unconscious heap.

"Bitch!" Grue distracted from his side of the conflict, blood pouring from his own cuts across his leather jacket. It was a moment of distraction that Grue couldn't afford.

Cricket reacted immediately to Hookwolf's increase in lethality, and stopped playing around. Cricket did something, Taylor wasn't sure, and Circus stumbled, dropping her knife. Taylor's auditory sensors picked up high-frequency soundwaves, similar to the Sicarian's Transonic blade and slashed Circus across the torso. The clown stumbled back, and when Grue tried to intervene, Cricket flicked her kama around, spun, and stabbed the scythe blade deep into Grue's stomach.

Grue gasped, blood dripping from his helmet, before he fell to the ground, clutching his stomach.

"Shit!" Circus cursed as they brought a torch out of their pocket dimension and blew fire at Cricket.

Cricket jumped back, only to slip and fall, mostly due to Regent, wherever he was.

All the while, Taylor gaped at what just happened. In the span of less than 10 seconds, the entire battle reversed. She looked at the mauled body of Bitch, and the bleeding form of Grue. Taylor wouldn't call them friends, but she liked them well enough. Bitch was simple to get along with, and didn't have the unnecessary and inefficient compunctions that others had. Grue was hard headed and annoying, constantly critiquing her, but Taylor could at least respect the man for not backing down from her.

Taylor watched them bleed. Taylor watched them die. Die because she tried to kill Stormtiger.

…

Despite her logic sensors screaming at her to withdraw, Taylor acted.

"Skitarii! Kill!" She shouted as she holstered her las-pistol and drew her Omnisian axe from her back. She flicked a switch, and a corona of matter disrupting electric energy coated around the axe head.

Taylor jumped off the roof, and her kill clade followed.

Taylor landed on the street, her augmetic legs easily catching her weight as the concrete cracked beneath her. Behind her, the Skitarii landed one after the other, their pale blue eyes the only source of light under their dark hoods.

There was no challenge, no bellow or warcry. The Kill Team Metalica raised their lasguns and opened fire on Hookwolf. Volley after volley of ruby red lasers slammed into Hookwolf. They weren't able to pierce his armored body, but each shot tore metal off, leaving partially melted, glowing orange slag where they impacted. Hookwolf stumbled back, covering his body with his arms as he retreated.

With more space, Taylor shouted to Tempestus, "Focus, Tempestus! Stabilize Bitch and get her out of here!" She turned to Circus, "Extract Grue!" Then over the radio she commanded, "Sicarian! Initiate rapid reaction protocols, you are needed!"

Sicarian sent an affirmative binaric burst in return, but Taylor already dismissed her from her mind. It would take Sicarian several minutes to reach their location on foot. Following his orders, Tempestus moved over Bitch, pulling out his medical kit and getting to work. Taylor knew he had first aid training, Merrick had seen to that, but that training combined with his powers let Tempestus become a competent enough trauma surgeon to treat Bitch. Meanwhile, Bitch's dogs formed a perimeter around their master, protecting her, but no longer going after Hookwolf.

Meanwhile she saw Tattletale, harried and wide-eyed, rush out and take the opportunity to rush towards Grue and help Circus carry him out. Taylor still couldn't find Regent, but judging by how Cricket was now writhing on the ground, he was focusing his power on her.

As the others pulled Grue and Bitch out of the conflict and back towards the Chimera, Hookwolf made his move. His bladed armor scorched and slagged in over half his body, Taylor liked to imagine that Hookwolf was in excruciating pain when he roared once more and jumped into the air. The Skitarii focused their fire still, unrelenting in their volley at their airborne target. But either Hookwolf's brute form was stronger than Taylor anticipated, or the man just had that much tolerance for pain that he continued his attack and landed on top of the Skitarii formation.

The Skitarii scrambled away, but were too slow. Hookwolf crashed through them, and Metalica-03, Metallica-04, and Metalica-05 were shredded in an instant, her once proud Skitarii turned into chunks of meat and metal.

Taylor roared, leaping at Hookwolf with her power axe. He raised his right forearm to block the strike, but the energy field around the axe sheared through it, cutting the offending limb clean off. Letting loose a scream of pain once more, Hookwolf's form distorted, losing cohesion and its wolf-like shape as he tried to retreat. But Taylor would not let him.

The servo-arm on Taylor's back shot out, the claw gripping Hookwolf's neck and yanking him back. Holding tight, Taylor swung her Omnisian axe horizontally, rending a huge gash through Hookwolf's torso. Hookwolf screamed again, but rather than retreating, he moved forward, smashing into Taylor with the full weight of his body.

Taylor stumbled back as she felt the blade cut at her. Letting go of her axe with her left hand, she brought up the prosthetic to cover her head, the only unarmored part of her body. She felt some nicks and cuts, but nothing major as Hookwolf reformed his missing limb and smashed it through Taylor's servo-arm. The claw broke off at its hinge joint, freeing Hookwolf as he slammed his left claw into Taylor's stomach.

Despite the fact that they were artificial, Taylor felt the air forced out of her lungs as she flew back. Her emergency oxygen reserve kicked in, keeping her from gasping as her breathing stabilized, allowing her to raise her axe once more into a guard stance, ready to fight off Hookwolf's next attack.

But that attack never came. Instead Hookwolf stared at Taylor, panting, before he spoke.

"That blade of yours fucking hurts," he said, his voice a low, angry growl. "Cuts real good. Makes me wonder what it would do to people. Like say, a couple of meth cooks at the discount furniture warehouse?"

Taylor didn't respond as her eye narrowed and readied herself to attack.

"Yeah that's about what I expected, you little psycho," Hookwolf chuckled as he looked at the Skitarii. "I've heard of you. You're that tinker who caught Skidmark right? You know, we thought about paying you a visit, but you were too far into the docks for us to care. Now though? This is war, bitch. You and all of your freaks will burn."

"Kill him!" Taylor shouted as she charged, power axe raised high. The surviving Skitarii opened fire once more carving more chunks of superheated metal off of Hookwolf.

Taylor mentally commanded Metalica-01 charged ahead of Taylor, switching out his lasgun for his taser goad. Hookwolf met their charge straight on. Hookwolf swung at Metalica-01, the Skitarii dodged to the side, slipping the punch, but Hookwolf shifted momentum, turning the punch into a backhand that slammed into the side of Metalica-01. The Skitarii's left arm was shredded, but Taylor had shut all pain sensors off in him as he kept pushing. The Skitarii raised his taser goad and slammed it into Hookwolf's torso at max power, sending millions of volts of electricity coursing through him.

Hookwolf howled in pain as Taylor attacked. She drove her force axe deep into Hookwolf's neck, feeling the metal blades melt under her weapon, and with a final roar, Taylor dropped all of her augmetic weight and strength into the cog-shaped blade, and chopped off Hookwolf's head.

Taylor stumbled forward, the momentum of her swing carrying her forward before she caught herself. She allowed herself a smile as she and Metallica-01 backed up. She killed Hookwolf. While she would've preferred to capture him alive, as his power was quite destructive, she would take this instead. Now to just secure Stormtiger and Cricket, and she could retreat with the Un-

Taylor saw stars as the shifting, bladed arm of Hookwolf slammed into her and Metalica-01. The two of them went flying backwards as they landed on the street. Taylor felt vertigo as she groaned, and as she rolled on the ground, she looked through the eyes of surviving Skitarii Metalica-02 and 06 to see what was happening.

Hookwolf's form shifted again, becoming less a wolf and more of a blob as it retreated. Taylor cursed. Hookwolf's changer form was far from standard biology, and it was stupid of her to assume that simply decapitating him would kill him. Hookwolf reformed into a more lupine form as he retreated, moving to Cricket's prone form and, as gingerly as he could, grabbed her. The Skitarii kept shooting their lasguns, but they lacked the firepower to put him down. Anything short of the las-cannon or an anti-armor version of the arc rifle would be able to do it.

Taylor pushed herself up, doing calculations if any members of her force could catch up to Hookwolf and kill him before he got back to Kaiser. Tattletale's voice over their communicator cut her line of thought.

"Tech-Priest!" The Thinker shouted. "We have to go! Grue and Bitch are fucked up, and they're going to die if you don't help them!"

Taylor growled, letting Hookwolf vanish out of sight as she and her Skitarii retreated back to chimera.

Chapter Text

Sicarian. Hookwolf has retreated. Area should be clear of hostiles. Enact sanitation protocols. Do not leave anything that could be traced back to us. Taylor telepathically sent to Sicarian, who was only two blocks away from the dog fighting ring now. After a moment of pause, she sent a follow up message. Stormtiger should still be there. His retrieval is alpha priority.

Acknowledge, mistress. Sicarian sent back. 

“Tech-Priest!” Tattletale shouted from beside her. “Can you please focus on what you’re doing!”

Taylor sent the blonde a glare. Currently, Tech-Priest, was in the middle of suturing and tourniqueting the worst of Bitch’s wounds, meanwhile Tempestus focused on keeping pressuring Grue’s stab wound. The two of them, the Undersiders, and the surviving Skitarii were all packed in the back of the Chimera, with Metalica-04 currently driving the APC as fast as he could towards Taylor’s lair.

“You know,” Taylor said calmly as she stitched close an open artery. “My multi-tasking capability is unmatched, even amongst Parahumans. I could be performing this operation while playing chess with Artisan for all you know.”

Tattletale groaned. “You know, that isn’t the reassuring statement you think it is.”

“I care little for reassuring your mental state,” Taylor said while she set up an IV of autosanguination fluid into Bitch. “If you wish, I could install my emotional dampener enhancement into your brain so you can have better control over your faculties in a time like this.” 

Tattletale pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes. “God, fuck off with that you psychotic bitch! Christ, why did we choose to work with you when I knew you would fuck us over like this.” 

Taylor’s head snapped to Tattletale. She didn’t stop working on her patients as she moved to Grue and hissed back, “I fucked you over? Who was it that asked me not to bring my most lethal Tinkertech? Who was so sure that their precious Unwritten Rules would ensure that Hookwolf and his friends would not fight to kill? Do not blame me for your blind faith in a system that obviously does not work.”

“My blind faith!?” Tattletale shouted back. “I’m sorry, but Hookwolf wouldn’t have gone on that rampage if you didn’t almost kill Stormtiger! And they definitely wouldn’t have been so on edge if you didn’t let Shadow Stalker go Jack Slash Junior on those cooks!”

“Oh, I am sorry for disabling Stormtiger before he had a chance to kill you!” Taylor snapped back as she checked Grue’s blood pressure. It was stable for now, but she couldn’t treat the puncture wound here. She began an autosangination IV drip for him as well. “Perhaps I should have just let him cut off your head and your team would be down one member instead of two!”

“You could’ve just knocked him out!” Tattletale countered. 

“I did knock him out!”

“After you burned off his arm!” Tattletale’s voice cracked with how much she was screaming. “This is exactly the kind of escalation that Grue and I were talking about!”

“An escalation that would not have occurred if you just let me kill them all in the first place!” Taylor growled as she moved to examine the damage to Meltalica-01. “I could have slaughtered them all from the get go, but you all said no. Now two of your teammates are dying, and half a squad of my Skitarii are dead!”

“Will you two shut up?!” A third voice cut in, and both Taylor and Tattletale turned to Tempestus, who was severely glaring at both of them. “This isn’t helping anyone! We need to focus on helping Bitch, Grue, and 01. We can talk about what happened after!”

There was silence in the cab of the APC, the only noise was just the hum of the engine and rumble of the tracks. 

Sighing, Taylor knew Tempestus was right. She shunted off her anger into her emotion vault and said, “They are stable for now, but I will need to operate as soon as we get to the Manufactorum. Enginseer and Artisan are prepping for surgery now.”

Tattletale also let out a long, shuddering breath, and action that shook her entire body as she brought herself under control. While Tattletale was obviously distressed, Taylor found it harder to read the reactions of the others. Regent, who sported a long gash on the top of his shoulder courtesy of Stormtiger, wasn’t as outwardly upset as Tattletale, but he was pensive and definitely not happy. Meanwhile Circus sat back in their seat, taking this whole scene in with a silent professionalism that Taylor did not expect. 

No one broke the silence as the chimera entered the Manufactorum. Three gurneys were prepared, and Taylor had her guardsmen bring them down to her workshop.

“Undersiders,” Taylor commanded as she handed off her weapons to a nearby Guardsman. “Remain here on the factory floor while I operate on your companions. Tempestus, treat any injuries they have, but try not to use any of my Tinkertech.”

“Wait,” Tattletale called out, stopping Taylor from going to the basement. “You’re just going to save their lives? Not do… anything else?”

“Taylor rolled her eye. “Yes, I am just going to be repairing and replacing their damaged organics. No mind implant units or unsolicited enhancements.” She pointed a mechanical finger at Tattletale. “And I’ll be sure you get the bill afterwards.”

Tattletale gave a dry chuckle. “Sure. And make it as expensive as you want, I’ll make sure our boss pays for it.” 

Taylor paused for a second, taking in Tattletale’s slip, and Tattletale saw her pause and realized that she slipped up herself. She just groaned and sat down by a nearby workbench. Holding back a small smile, Taylor went downstairs.

Within her workshop, both Bitch and Grue were placed on operating tables next to each other. Metalica-01 was on a further table at the back. His wounds were less pressing, and his enhancements meant he was far sturdier than the two mortal capes in front of him. Enginseer stood in the room, silent, next to a cart of various bionic limbs and organs that she had prepared while waiting for Taylor.

Nodding to her assistant, Taylor grabbed the Diagnostor from the cart, the same Tinkertech devices she created to examine the wounds on the Merchant Skitarii she created long ago, Taylor got to work. Looking over Bitch, she made a catalog of the damage she saw. Majority of the damage was on Bitch’s right side. The right half of her face was degloved, the right eye was completely destroyed, alongside her right ear and nose. 

Going down her body, Taylor saw that Bitch’s right arm was completely gone up to her upper arm, almost to the shoulder. Her torso was saved from any extensive damage, just a few minor lacerations, while the meat of her right leg had a far greater amount of deeper cuts and slashes. Half of her right foot was gone as well.

She turned the Diagnostor to Grue. Cricket’s kama had pierced deep, stabbing him through the kidney and damaging his intestines, causing severe internal bleeding. Okay, with all of the tourniquets and clamps placed upon Bitch, she was not in danger of bleeding out right now. That made Grue the more pressing patient. 

Pulling off his helmet and jacket, Taylor placed an anesthesia mask over him. She didn’t need him waking up mid-surgery. She cut off his shirt and immediately made an incision to widen the wound Cricket initially made. Using her mechadendrite to keep the incision open, Taylor removed the shredded kidney and replaced it with a bionic one, the same design used on Enginseer and the other former Merchants. While not perfect defense against all poison, Grue would have a harder time getting drunk now, and would be immune to conventional toxins such as lead or microplastics. 

She considered removing the other kidney, just to help keep his body regulation more consistent, but she decided against it. That was an extraneous operation and Tattletale would notice. Next were the intestines.  Taylor had to replace about a foot of Grue’s large intestines with a quickly fabricated porous poly-carbon tube which could still filter out water and salts back into his bloodstream, as well as sewing up the deeper lacerations done to the small intestines. 

Taylor stapled Grue’s stomach closed and began a fresh process of Autosanguination, which she would continue for about a week. That would be enough time for Grue’s wounds to heal naturally enough he could move unaided, and to ensure he would have no bionic rejection. 

With Grue done, Taylor moved onto Bitch. She started on her face. It didn’t take long for Taylor to measure out the area of her face that would require covering. She could easily recall Rachel’s face from her data banks to 3D print a near perfect likeness out of steel to replace her nose, cheek, and right ear, complete with a crimson red cybernetic right eye which Taylor would connect to the brain through the eye socket. 

But before she could attach it, Taylor grabbed a scalpel and began carving away sections of ruined flesh, scooping out what was left of the right eyeball as well. She gingerly placed the facial reconstruction over the gore that was Rachel’s face, and with a bit of pressure and a small SNAP, the oculus augmentation pierced the orbital fissure at the back of Bitch’s eyesocket and connected to her brain. 

Next, Taylor moved onto the arm. The ball and socket joint of the shoulder was still there, but there was maybe only three or four inches of the upper arm left. That wouldn’t be worth saving. So using a bone saw, the non-psychopathic version because Taylor can make jokes, Taylor removed the remains of Rachel’s right arm and had Enginseer adjust the right arm bionic to a size and length to relatively match Rachel’s left arm.

It was the same combat-ready prosthetic as used by both Taylor and the Skitarii, which meant that when Rachel woke up she would have a minor Brute rating with the arm’s strength and bulletproof durability. After a bit of consideration, Taylor then decided to integrate a las-pistol grade laser emitter into the forearm of the arm as well. Rachel had no form of ranged offensive capabilities, making her unable to support her dogs or the other Undersiders in combat. And putting her in hand to hand combat was too dangerous, as proved in the fight against Hookwolf, as taking her out would remove her dogs, the Undersider’s greatest asset. 

The base connector was placed within Rachel’s shoulder and soldered with Rachel’s nerves. Taylor then inserted the bionic arm into the socket joint. Like Taylor’s own arm, the design was modular, so if Rachel needed, the arm could be easily replaced when damaged or an upgrade desired. 

Taylor then moved to Rachel’s leg. There was some damage to the quadricep and the skin atop of it, but not enough to warrant a replacement. Something like this would be simpler for Amy to fix, but Taylor would do her best. After cleaning the wound with contraseptics, Taylor’s delicate fingers sewed together muscle with machine efficiency. A skin graft from a leg Taylor had in storage was placed atop her thigh, and when combined with the Autosanguination fluid, hopefully her body would not reject it. The leg matched Rachel’s blood type, but the body could be strange sometimes.

This did, however, give Taylor the idea for a kind of synthetic skin that could be grafted onto the body, perhaps some kind of rubber-polymer mix. She could make it tougher than normal skin but still have all of the natural functions such as perspiration and sensory touch. She could potentially even add in other effects, such as integrating cameleoline to give a natural camouflaging.  An interesting idea, but something she would just jot down for now. That would take time to R&D.

Lastly, Rachel’s foot was the simplest replacement. Taylor thought that replacing the entire foot would be the best way to go, but unlike the arm, there was enough of the natural foot left that it could still more or less function. So she simply took the front half of a prosthetic foot made for the Skitarii, re-arranged connection points, and grafted it directly onto Rachel’s foot. This one would not be replaceable or modular like the arm, but it was a small enough prosthetic that that probably wouldn’t matter.

With Rachel’s surgery done, Taylor flooded her system with drugs to keep her in a medically induced coma. While she sleeps, the Autosanginuation flood Taylor pumped into her would heal her wounds enough over the next few days that she could move around without risking tearing herself open, but it would probably be weeks until she was fully operational, unless Panacea intervened. But such was the price when one focused on healing the weak flesh rather than simply embracing new enhancements. 

Checking her internal chronometer, Taylor saw that it was about 4:30am, and she’d been working for the last three and a half hours. Not the worst amount of time she’d spent Tinkering. A quick scan over Metalica-01 said that most of his injuries were to his prosthetics, and thus could be easily replaced by his fellow Skitarii, especially if Taylor puppeted them during the procedure. 

And so, Taylor washed the blood off her metallic hands, and left the aftercare and clean up to Enginseer as Taylor went back upstairs.

Tattletale groaned as she was shaken awake. She had a big headache, and the short sleep and aspirin she took only barely took the edge off. Though she couldn’t really complain. Only Circus got out more unscathed than her, and the clown cheated with their powers and enhanced reflexes.

Currently, Tattletale was splayed out on a couch next to Circus, while Regent had his own sofa, the furniture brought out earlier by Uber and the bald Sergeant of Taylor’s Guardsmen. With nothing to do while they waited for Grue’s and Rachel’s surgery, after Uber stitched up Regent’s arm and gave them all painkillers, they opted to get some sleep. 

Looking up, Tattletale met the near unblinking face of Taylor. Behind her, Sgt. Merrick had a tray of coffees. Grumbling, Tattletale grabbed a coffee off the tray and thanked the aged marine before he moved to the others.

After taking a sip of the black liquid gold, Tattletale said, “So, everything go well?”

Tech-Priest nodded. “Indeed. Grue and Bitch shall make a full recovery. Although they will have to stay here for about a week for extended care and monitoring. And afterwards we shall have to schedule monthly check ups for maintenance.”

Tattletale hummed. And that was the curse of Tinkertech. It still required maintenance. That meant Grue and Bitch were now tied to Tech-Priest for the rest of their lives. “Makes sense. How much will this cost?” She took another sip of coffee.

“Two-hundred thousand dollars,” Taylor flatley said.

Tattletale spit out her coffee back out into her cup. “Well… okay. I’m sure the boss could swing that,” she weakly chuckled as she wiped her chin. “You know, have you ever considered taking insurance?”

“That has been brought up before,” Taylor said, “But I am less interested in that right now, and more interested in what we are going to do next.”

Tattletale sighed. “Right. Well we know for sure the Empire isn’t going to take this lying down. They know you were involved with us on the jobs against them, and they’re going to be playing hardball.”

“Which means a retaliatory strike will be coming,” Taylor said, her voice flat and emotionless.

Nodding her head, Tattletale said, “Yep. Kaiser will probably want to use this attack as an excuse to hit you, maybe try and subsume the Mechanicus into the Empire.”

Even with her emotional dampeners, Tech-Priest couldn’t hide the snarl on her face at that. “He can try, but he will learn why it is foolish to attack a Tinker in their lair.” 

“Do you think you have enough to fight off the Empire if Kaiser comes full force?”

A cold stillness fell over Taylor’s face again. “Even with my newest recruits into the Guardsmen, most of them are green and will flee when confronted by Capes. The core that consists of my veterans will fight, as well as my Skitarii, but Kill Team Metalica is at half strength. Enginseer is almost done with her prototype Leman Russ, and the chimera is currently unarmed, but could be mounted with a laser turret.”  

“Don’t forget the Empire probably just wouldn’t attack here,” Circus added on from beside Tattletale. “You barely have a secret identity, Tech-Priest. It would not take a lot of digging for someone to find out what your real name is.” 

Sergeant Major Merrick decided to voice his opinion now as well. “We could send the remnants of Metalica to protect your Dad and house. Then send a squad of the greener Guardsmen recruits to watch over his workplace. The Docks are too close to Lung’s territory for the Empire to attack head on.”

Tech-Priest nodded. “That works. My newest Skitarii Vanguard unit, Kill Team Graia, can take Metalica's role in defending the Manufactorum.”

“And we’ll help too!” Tattletale said with forced joy.

“What?” Regent squawked out, quickly sitting up from the couch, before he winced in pain and was forced back down. “Why would we do that?”

Tattletale sat forward and glared at Regent, “Because you little shit, Grue and Bitch are stuck here, and will probably still be stuck here when the Empire comes knocking.” This whole situation was also a little bit their fault, but Lisa wouldn’t say that out loud. 

“If you are going to take part in my defense, you will need to be properly outfitted,” Tech-Priest said.

Regent’s face glew like he was a child. “Does that mean…”

“Yes, dear Regent, that means you can have a laser pistol,” Tech-Priest said as if she was a doting parent, or an indulgent teacher. As Regent danced in the background, uncaring about his wound, Tech-Priest looked to Tattletale. “You’ll also be getting a las-pistol, and some other goodies as well. If all of you were armed with Tinkertech before tonight, the battle could have gone very differently.”

Even Tattletale couldn’t suppress a genuine smile instead of her usual fox-like grin, while Circus was also giddy. “What do you want to give us?” Tattletale asked.

“Besides the guns, I’m thinking a pair of prey-sight goggles for you, Tattletale, similar to what my Skitarii use. They’ll provide night vision, thermal, and xray vision modes for intelligence gathering. You’ll also be granted access to other Skitarii POVs during operations.” Tech-Priest turned back to Regent. “I can replace your scepter with a Taser Goad of Enginseer’s design. Far more powerful, and can deliver a lethal amount of energy that will be able to stun most Brutes.”

She then turned to Circus. “I know of your predilection for knives, so I can gift you several tinkertech-alloy blades alongside the Cameleoline cloak. They’ll never rust and maintain perfect edges, and I will also speak with Enginseer of developing your stealth bike as well.” She then gestured over to Sgt. Merrick’s body armor. “I’ll also donate suits of flak armor to each of you, colored to your costumes. They’re bulletproof, and ablative to protect from Blasters or lasers, but do not expect it to stand up to heavy weapons or more powerful Capes.”

Tattletale blinked. “Okay yeah sure. Thanks for all of this.” 

Tech-Priest waved her off. “Most of this is technology I already have, so it is of no consequence. So long as you do come to my aid when the Empire comes.” 

Nodding, Tattletale couldn’t help but say her next thoughts. “Question, Tech-Priest. That’s a lot of stuff you're giving us. I know you said it’s just a bit of excess gear you have, but between your own tech, your Guardsmen, and your Skitarii, you’re doing the work of probably thirty Tinkers with what, two other Tinkers under you?”

“Three Tinkers,” Tech-Priest corrected.

Tattletale snorted. “Sure okay, three Tinkers. Same question though. Not even Toybox can outfit an army like you’re doing. And I know for a fact that you don’t make enough money from tech sales to cover all of these weapons. So how the fuck are you doing this?”

Tech-Priest looked at Tattletale, her more emotionless mask returning. “I shall answer this question, in return for a question of my own.”

Thinking for a moment, Tattletale nodded. “Fair enough. Deal.”

Nodding, Tech-Priest said, “You are correct that the general sale of my Tinkertech has yet to yield significant funding for myself. Both private sales have been few and far between, and the PRT is reluctant to adopt any equipment I build and send over to them. However, I have found other means of procuring resources. Under the table sales to less than savory individuals. As well as simply procuring the technology and resources I need for myself.”

She tapped her mechanical foot on the ground. “For example, did you think the city’s power grid would be able to support all the industry I do here? Well yes, actually it could, but at an exorbitant cost in utilities! So, I had Artisan, that’s Leet’s new name, design a small scale fusion-plasma generator to power this building and my other locations. Compressed hydrogen gas had to be stolen from our local gas power plant, but once we further compressed it to a liquid state, we were able to power the generator and provide a giga-watt of electricity. We are completely independent from the city’s power grid, greatly reducing our overhead. As for raw materials, I have workers go out and purchase any and all cheap, second hand electronics, as well as send teams out to scavenge metal from the Ship Graveyard.”

“So short answer is crime,” Regent summarized.

“I prefer to see it as proper allocation of resources, but yes,” Taylor huffed. “That is how I get the resources and raw materials. As for manufacturing, enough of my creations are not actual Tinkertech, just regular technology, that it can be fabricated by workers here at the Manufactorum. The actual Tinkertech within is later added by myself, or one of my servitors.” 

“What’s a servitor?” Circus asked.

Taylor gestured as if she was about to speak, but then cut herself off. “Uhh don't worry about that for now.”

Servitors are an additional class of cyborg. Mastered by Taylor to create and maintain Tinkertech. Made from captured criminals not suited for direct combat like Skitarii. 

Tattletale blanched at that. But at least she was somewhat glad that Tech-Priest was learning that not everyone would find all aspects of her cyborgs exciting or even acceptable.  

Shoving that aside, Tattletale said, “Okay so I get that. But what I don’t get is why? You could’ve stayed small scale, only made stuff for yourself or your team, and gone the vigilante hero route. Hell you could’ve just gone the Toybox route and sell specialized Tinkertech to the highest bidder. But no, you’re going way bigger than any of that. At the scale you're growing, in a few months, you’ll be able to outgun the PRT. Hell you could probably outgun the National Guard and take over the city. But you also don’t want to be a villain. So just, why are you doing all of this?”

Behind her mask, Tech-Priest frowned at Tattletale. “That is a second question, and I have yet to ask mine.”

Tattletale waved her off. “Just answer me and I’ll tell you anything you want.” 

Tech-Priest held her gaze. “Simple. For the glory of the Machine God, I am building a force to ensure the survival of humanity. Within the century, if not sooner, all of humanity will go extinct.”

Tattletale’s mouth dropped. She could tell behind their solid facemasks, Circus’ and Regent’s mouths dropped. 

Tattletale had to let her power go. Tech-Priest completely believes in what she is saying. Has collated data from hundreds if not thousands of verified and accurate sources. Current data points to Endbringers being primary cause at their current rate of destruction and consolidation of survivors. Thinks her mass produced Tinkertech can avoid this future. Honestly believes she has been chosen by a Machine God to save humanity. The Machine God is real.

Tattletale ripped herself out of her power at that, her head now pulsing. Huh, wow, that’s… a lot to take in. 

“May I ask my question now?” Tech-Priest asked. 

Almost barely aware of Taylor, Tattletale said, “Yeah, sure, go ahead.”

“Who is this boss of yours?”

Tattletale blinked. She glanced over at Circus, who was staring very hard at her. Lisa considered how to answer this. And ultimately decided.

 “Fuck it,” she said. Circus probably wouldn’t stab her for this. “Our boss is Coil. He’s the one who told us to get you to attack the E88 for him.” 

A/N: I started watching lots of Dispatch gameplay which got me back in the mood to write superheroes.