Chapter Text
The tree was the first thing Taylor's eyes fell upon as she stepped out of the crypt she had woken up in, and she didn’t doubt that she would be able to see it no matter where she was. It was tall, yet calling it tall was insufficient, for the tree did not simply tower above the landscape, but was an entire world on its own. It was larger than anything Taylor had ever seen before and would ever see after. Even here, so many miles away, its smallest twigs looked like trees themselves, while the larger branches reminded Taylor of the sequoia trees she had once seen images of in school. The tree’s trunk could not be described, for words could not do it justice. Its golden glow felt unnecessary, a spotlight for someone alone on a stage, the reiteration of the importance of a hero in a story, yet fitting because of it. Of course it shone golden, for nothing else could ever be enough. And even as insidious voices whispered in her mind, questioning where she was, wondering how she came here, the tree’s presence helped her breathe. For just a moment, Taylor could feel at peace.
If Emily were generous, she would say she disliked parahumans, but she was not a generous person. Wherever they went, whether they were heroes or villains, parahumans caused chaos. It seemed to be their reason for existence, to turn the world into a living hell where they could simply wander around, demons cloaked in human skin. When she was younger, before she saw what the worst among them could do, she believed that they could change the world for the better. Then Sphere became Mannequin and Emily realised that doing good would not be allowed. Then Elisburg happened and she learned what they believed to be better. Then the PRT refused to send help to Brockton Bay for the dozenth time, leaving her to scrape together a response when nazi parahumans decided to fight a human-turned-dragon.
It had warped her, all those disappointments having turned her into a jaded statue. The long list of crimes she had seen committed made it difficult to see parahumans as anything other than a checklist. Robbery, abuse, genocide, and everything in between, most parahumans had done at least some of the things, taking energy from another’s pain to push their own away. The one sitting on the chair behind her hadn’t done any of these, if only because she had been a parahuman for no more than a few days. Not that Emily would be surprised if the girl had snuck out at some point.
Emily would give her the benefit of the doubt for now, with the knowledge that - like every other parahuman - she would be unable to suppress the urge forever. Violence called to her like a siren did a sailor. If only Brockton Bay didn’t sing such a beautiful song.
Emily suppressed a sigh. At least this far up, on the highest level of the building, she did not have to see the scars. A small piece of luxury she would give herself. Could give herself. This time she did sigh, slowly turning around and waddling to her chair. It was specifically made to reduce the many aches and pains she suffered, but sitting in it until the early hours of the morning did little but decrease its effects. “Miss Hebert.”
The girl looked up from her lap. At her side, her father took hold of her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. It was impressive how he managed to see how she felt now, yet had missed it all the year and a half before.
“I will not waste time on pleasantries. Shadow Stalker, or Sophia Hess as you know her, was under our supervision. That she could abuse as she did is our fault. Any medical bills will be paid for by the PRT.” Or, rather, they would push it onto Sophia’s supervisor. “Hess herself will be given the prison sentence she managed to avoid by joining the Wards, in addition to any other crimes she is found guilty of.”
“We already know this,” Taylor’s father said hesitantly. There was an undercurrent of strength there, a hint of the man who managed the Dockworkers Union for the past years. “That’s not what you want to talk about.”
“Like I said, let’s skip the pleasantries. We all know that you are a parahuman, Miss Hebert, and I have no intentions of letting another one loose on my city.” They both stiffened. “That your cape identity is on a knife’s edge doesn’t help your case. You wouldn’t be the first parahuman grabbed off the streets by a gang looking to increase their numbers.”
“Are you threatening us?” Danny asked, body tensing.
Emily scoffed. “Hardly. It is not in my interest to have her identity be public and people are already handling it. But things slip through the cracks. Joining the Wards would make it easier to protect you, if only by making any villain think twice about trying.” A Ward getting kidnapped might actually be enough to get the PRT to finally send support their way. “It will make moving you to Arcadia easier as well, something you want.”
“How do you know that?”
Emily ignored the question. “But I understand that joining the Wards after one of them bullied you into triggering would feel wrong. So I’ll give you an alternative offer.”
Danny opened his mouth, only for Taylor to interrupt. “What is it?”
“The implications of your power are interesting. The half-wolf, Blaidd, seemed to have been summoned by you somehow. He appeared a fair distance away from Winslow. Depending on that distance, there is a case to have you join the Protectorate immediately instead of joining the Wards.”
“That’s-”
“She’s a child!” Danny said, cheeks flushing in anger. “You’d have her fight-”
“Of course not. If her summons have enough range, she can simply stay here. Standard Protectorate master protocols. As long as those summons are adults, the Youth Guard has no foot to stand on.”
“But you don’t know if that’s what my powers do,” Taylor said.
Emily nodded. “We will test your powers. Depending on how it works, we’ll look into a way to put you into the Protectorate. If it does not work in the way we think, you can still join the Wards.”
“Or I can not join at all.” Taylor stared at her, a heavy gaze that bore into her eyes to break into her mind, unearthing so many secrets. The clenching of her jaw showed the truth. Emily stared back.
When Taylor looked away, Emily spoke. “You could.”
“We’ll think about it,” Danny said.
“You are free to do so.” She resisted the urge to groan as she leaned down to unlock the cabinet. It was filled with papers, books, and hard drives. All of it was need-to-know, including the journal at the top of it all. It was an old thing, its cover ripped and pages torn. When she had looked through it, Emily had found numerous pages with stains on them, both ink and water. She put it down in front of her and pushed it to the opposite side of the table.
Taylor’s eyes widened and she grabbed it. Her face flushed upon realizing what she had done. “I’ve interacted with many parahumans,” Emily said, interrupting any potential things she might have said. “All of them have proven dangerous, whether through ideology, trauma or simple narcissism. It is only for Brockton Bay that I don’t seek to get rid of them all.” Her eyes narrowed as she took the girl in. Pale, gawky, unimpressive. In a normal world, she would be nothing special. “Heed my words, Miss Hebert. I’ll see the worst among them buried one day. Make sure you don’t become one of them.”
All color drained from Taylor’s face. Then Emily saw her teeth clench. There was a certainty in her eyes as she spoke. “We share a goal, Director Piggot. I too wish to see Brockton Bay cleaned of the rot that inhabits it.” That confidence faded moments later, but it left enough of an impression.
If Emily hadn’t seen hope be broken so many times before, she might have even trusted it.