Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Prologue: The Girl King’s Slumber.

              What would you do if today was your last day? Would you fight against fate, trying to see another sunrise? Would you just accept your end?

              A girl slammed against a metal locker, fighting and fighting to get out.

              A girl smiled as she gazed at the coming dawn through the trees.

              Would people celebrate your passing? Would people mourn?

              Laughter, cruel yet young surrounded the girl as she tried to escape.

              Silence, as if the world and the loyal knight mourned for the girl together.

              Would you be forgotten? Would the world hope for your return?

              They left the girl, jubilant in their success. “Bye bye, Taylor!”

              He stood over the girl, burdened by his failure. “Rest well, my king.”

              Would the cause be hidden? Would it be obvious?

              They didn’t know that a piece of the locker sliced into the girl when they shoved her in.

              The knight gazed at the slash, long and deep, knowing that he couldn’t treat it.

               What words would be on your last breath? Would they be a plea, or would they be a goodbye?

              “HELP ME!”

              “What a wonderful dream…”

              What would you do when your time came to an end?

              The girl closed her eyes.

              The girl closed her eyes.

              The same eyes.

              “So that is what would have happened, eh?”  A modest robe of the finest fabrics slides through the groups of students. His black staff tapping against the floor. His hair, a show of colors beneath the lights, was attention grabbing. He looked out of place in a modern, if run down, high school, yet no one seemed to notice him.

              He stopped several paces away from the locker. Students sled around him without acknowledgement. He reached toward the locker, then caught something that glowed in his grasp. He then swatted the air around the glow. “Now, now. Enough of that.” He cradled the glow, then used his hands as if to mold it. “Yes, yes, you are very strong. But, I have dealt with such strength before.” The light caught his eyes, letting a fiery gaze down on the glow. “And they were far more alive than a shard like you.” His gaze then moved toward the locker. His impish smile threatened to fall, before it returned as he pulled out a pink flower. “Is in no world are you happy in life? Is fate truly so cruel?”

              He threw the flower toward the metal coffin. It seemed to dissolve before it could hit it. He paused for a moment, then tossed a white clump of hair that did the same thing. Then, with a shutter, he pulled out a black clump of mud. “The things I do for you,” the man muttered, far more to himself than his earlier words. He tossed it at the locker too. He paused for a moment then, as if waiting for something.

              When silence was his only answer, he gave a careless shrug. “If your fate is that cruel in all worlds…” His impish smile widened into something truly devilish. “Then I will just have to twist fate again.”

              He spread the light like water as it flowed toward the coffin. Then the man spoke in a voice of power, yet none heard it. A golden man stopped flying over the ocean to gaze toward the coffin.

              “Empty and fill. Empty and fill. Empty and fill. Empty and fill. Empty and fill.

              Let Steel and Iron be your essence.

              Close the gate as each is filled.”

              A giant feathered woman stopped her listless gaze of the stars to stare down toward the coffin.

              “Foundation made of Stone and Blood,

              Let this pact go on and be heard!

              Let fate become destiny by your will!”

              A small girl, who just wanted the numbers to stop, paused in her crying to look toward the coffin.

              “Heed my words to free you of the grail,

              Call on the Seventh Heaven,

              Call the Three Gifts of the Lake!”

              A woman in a fabulous fedora paused her pursuit to look back toward the coffin.

              “Come forth the Guardian of Balance!”

              The locker shined with unseen light. When it faded, the man was gone. The four observers returned to their actions, forgetting about any interruption. The locker would then be unnoticed for the rest of the day. Until far into the night, where everyone went home. With only the man’s last words for comfort.

              “After all, the tastiest happiness is after tragedy and struggle.”

Chapter Text

Awakening 1.1

              She ripped the lance away from him/her/it. They fell, breaking the their helmet. Taylor should have felt satisfaction, spite, something other than the regret that smothered her tongue. She looked around, the only movement being some birds of death and fires that were already dyeing out. Her knights, her people lay dead on the ground. Both sides had people she remembered, people she had once led. Now, they were all dead. How could they ever recover from this? Was this her fault?

              “F-f-fatherrrr…” She looked back toward the fallen traitor. For the first time she saw their face, the face of a blonde young girl with almost innocent green eyes reaching out to her. Taylor turned away. She had to.

              Mordred, the Traitor, had wanted the throne by the hand of her mother, Morgan le Fay. They/she…it had wanted the throne, but Taylor couldn’t give it to them/her. They did not have the right temperament for being a king, they didn’t have the right leadership, the right connections, the right loyalty…just the right bearing of a king.

              Those were all her reasons why she declined Mordred. They were good reasons. The Right Reasons! Reasons that every ruler would have given yet…Looking around this hill of death…If those reasons were true, how did she rise such an army? Were they that dissatisfied by her?

              The sound of moving armor.

              Taylor spun around, just in time to be hit by a sword, her sword, the traitor’s sword. She should have been dead! That wound would have killed anyone of her knights. As they fell, Taylor saw Mordred’s face. It was pale, slack, and her eyes were glossed over. She was dead. She was already dead. Laying on the hill, with the smell of the newly and rotting dead, Taylor just stared at the traitor…her child’s…face. One last act, one more sin against her by her sister. She couldn’t even let their child die like a human. Taylor’s blood ran freely from the wound. She was going to die here, by the blade that her own child stole, with her army destroyed, her home defenseless and everything she had ever worked for gone.

              As wishes and regrets piled upon her, she just stared at Mordred’s face. The face of her end, her bitter, tragic, regret filled end. Then…The face changed. It lengthened some, the mouth widened, the hair grew longer, curled and darkened. The eyes stayed the same, but staring back at her was no longer Mordred’s, but her own.

              Taylor broke from her dream with a retch. She stumbled from her bed, blindly kicking her blanket away. Bumbling around in the dark, she barely made it to the toilet before she was sick. After the last heave dispelled her vomit, Taylor cradled herself as she shivered.

              Mental toxic reaction, the doctors called it, or something like that. Her body had gone through enough shock from blood poisoning, blood loss, and a concussion that her body still was having reactions to it a month later. Nightmares, shivers, fevers, nausea, even actual vomiting were all on the table. Her body was fine, but her systems were hit so hard, for so long, they still needed to recalibrate after being healed. They were fighting an enemy that was no longer there.

              Calming herself, she heard the creaking and groaning of stairs as her dad made his way to the kitchen. Taylor groaned, laying her head on the cool porcelain throne. She woke him up again. Apparently, the doctors had told her dad enough bad stuff that he thought that she would croak at any moment. He smothered her for three days before she finally snapped at him. He still woke up anytime she had a bad enough episode and made her some tea that was supposed to help sickness. It was the same tea he made her mother.

              She liked it, don’t get her wrong, but every time she just felt like a burden to him.

              With a sigh at how pathetic she was, still liking her daddy taking care of her when she’s sick, Taylor got up to take a steaming hot shower. No work out the day of an episode the doctors said. She grumbled unintelligently as she got to it.

              After hot shower, and a deep cleaning of her mouth with both a brush and mouth wash, she looked at herself in the mirror above the sink. She clenched her jaw.

              When Panacea had healed her, she ‘fixed’ her eyes. There was nothing wrong with her eyes! She had glasses since she could remember. Her mom had glasses, her dad had glasses, even her grandparents, what she could remember of them, had glasses. But they were something to ‘fix’. Light reflected off a few stands of her made her frustrations rise even further. Her hair, her mother’s hair was changing. It was lightening, with strands of straight blonde hair peaking through.

              That did not even go into her appetite. The doctors said it would increase and she needed to eat. That didn’t stop her from feeling like a pig when even a month later she still ate more than her grown ass father! She didn’t hit the sink in anger. That was just asking for bad things. It was like everything was made of cardboard! Doorknobs, the steps, even some of her old clothes were destroyed enough that her dad started to fix things because she broke them.

              It was like her body wasn’t even hers anymore.

              The slight tapping, then the scurrying up her legs did make her smile though. “Hey Addy.” She held out her hand as it crawled into the palm of her hand. Addy looked like a spider. A white, smooth, metal spider with green joints and eyes. When she looked it up, Addy seemed to be based on a tarantula. It had three circles for body parts, with its head being the smallest, and its abdomen being the largest.

              Taylor didn’t know where it had come from. It just appeared in her hospital room when she woke up. No one else seemed to see it. That was a scare before it accidentally tipped over a glass of water as a doctor looked right at it. The doctor just shrugged it off.

              Taylor smiled as Addy crawled up into her hair and started to gather it into a bun. Addy loved playing a big old hair clip for her, keeping her hair all together.

              Taylor didn’t know how she came up with the name Addy, it just came to her. Taylor also didn’t know why she thought of Addy as a girl. Maybe it was how curious, but shy she was. Any time something spooked her, Addy tucked her head underneath her thorax, somehow got her abdomen to move above it, and curled her legs beneath herself. She snapped in so fast Taylor had to see her do it multiple times just to know what she did.

              Addy always seemed so nervous, except when she was playing as a hair clip, or just resting on the top of her head. She didn’t like anyone except Taylor touching her, anytime someone else came close to her, she would snap into her little saucer-shaped curl.

              With a sigh, Taylor finished up in the bathroom, got dressed and headed down. She wore a loose shirt and loose jeans with her running shoes.

              When she sat down at the table, her dad had already put a plate of breakfast down for her. “Thanks.” He just nodded in that awkward way. At first, she was surprised by how readily able he was to care for her. Then, last week he had demanded her to take a pregnancy test. Apparently, she was showing many of the symptoms that her mom did when she was pregnant with her. It was a long awkward and uncomfortable affair. After three negatives and a quick doctor’s visit, it was determined that her hormones were just out of wack from everything.

              That did not make talking to him any easier.

              “How’s today looking?”

              She shrugged, “Not too bad. I have a practice exam with Prof. Wicker, but other than that some studying and maybe tv.” It had shocked her how mad her dad was when she woke up. He pulled her from school, made her homeschool for the rest of the year, and somehow got some of her mother’s old co-workers to help give her exams. He still didn’t tell her what he did to get that accomplished in the week she was out in the hospital.

              He shrugged back, “Not too bad at all then. Just no working out today.” He narrowed his eyes challengingly at her. Taylor bit back a groan. With all the food she had been eating and finally having enough of looking like an upright frog, she started running and turned their basement into her little workout room. Her dad had no problems with that, except for the days she had an episode.

              Somehow knowing her exasperation, he narrowed his eyes even further, until she gave in with a nod. That was all the talking for the morning. Dad left, and she went out to take the bus to her mother’s former work.

              After her practice exam, which she felt somewhat comfortable with, she decided to take a walk along the Boardwalk before heading home. If she couldn’t run today, at least she could get a walk in. She walked for a while before she paused by an old antique store. It had a display of a brilliant blue cloak with white fur trim on it. She liked it. Taylor did grimace when she caught sight of the price though.

              Some instinct made Taylor lift her head, catching a flash of gold in the air.  Turning to look at it, she saw it was a golden ball with wings that reminded her of a hummingbird. It had a screen attached to it. Before she could recognize it for what it was, it broadcasted a voice loud enough that made her teeth rattle. “Welcome Brockton Bay to the Uber and Leet’s Streaming Show! Now, are you ready to take part in our newest game? Planetside! Let’s get you to your pods!”

              Taylor barely had time to blink, before a metal cone covered her. “Now time for the Randomizer!” The cone then quickly bashed against her, moving her this way and that. She tried to hold on, but it just moved too fast. Finally, it stopped, slamming her against it. Quickly, she tried to hit the metal open, but it wouldn’t budge. She couldn’t get out. “Now for the rules, each team has the same number of people. All you guys have to do is tag the other team with the weapon provided to you.” The small walls wouldn’t let her out. No one let her out! They laughed as she was here, nearly drowning in this shit! They wouldn’t let her out of the locker! Those bitches would kill her again! Let her out! Let her out! LET HER OUT!

              Outside of the cone, a brief flash of gold, before something hit it hard enough that it bulged outward.

              Leet laughed as people panicked. This was the perfect set up. A steel mobile bunker they paid Squealer for, an easy game that was essentially laser tag, and simple tech that could only go wrong if he did something. The only risk was how close it was to the Rig.

              He didn’t know what the fuss was all about. All they had to do was play along and they would be free in no time. His hand hovered over the start button, a big red button. “Umm, Leet? We got a problem.” He grunted, it was almost time, don’t tell him something went wrong. He looked over to the camera Uber was pointing at. One of the drop pods shook. Then suddenly it budged! Those were steel!

              “Who was in there!?”

              “I don’t know! The randomizer did its thing!” The randomizer was a thing he made up to keep his videos from being taken down for consent. It blurred the details of people that volunteered for their games. It did make sure that no capes got swept up.

              The steel ‘drop-pod’ was really just a steel cone that had a light gun and would open when he pressed the button. They could get rammed with a semitruck and not move. The steel budged again, quickly shaking his faith in that. Then it exploded open. A swirling mist of black fog seemed to creep out as it stepped out. It being an armored…thing that had a black visor on a pale head. The camera couldn’t seem to focus on it. It also wasn’t facing the camera. It only took a moment to realize what it was facing. “Oh shi-!”

              The bunker lurched like it was hit by a tank, almost tipping over. The only reason it didn’t, was that the armored thing started to tear it apart. Quickly, Leet slammed a black button as light peeked through the rapidly expanding hole. Four ‘Purge Troopers’ dropped down right as the thing finally ripped its way into the bunker.

              The troopers arrival made Leet fall on his behind. The Purge Troopers were a group of robot soldiers that Leet was saving in case they ever needed to escape quickly. They were heavily armored, tough, and wouldn’t stop protecting him and Umber no-and now they were all cut in half by the sudden appearance of a black and very sharp sword! The harsh gust of wind told Leet that if he didn’t fall when he did, his head would have fallen too.

              Uber tried to jump the thing, but a back hand made him lose at least three teeth. It raised its sword. “No, stop PLEASE!” It didn’t stop.

              It only stopped when another voice came through the hole. “Whoa there, no reason to go medieval on the guy.” Leet almost passed out in relief, he was never happier to see Assault in his life!

Chapter Text

Awakening 1.2

              Taylor quickly got out of the cage that the enemy thought to trap her in. It was pathetically easy to get out. Were they that arrogant that they thought that would hold her? Taylor let her instincts guide her, quickly finding their main base. She made a fist with her gauntlet, then, with a leap, she slammed into the base. Something popped, but the walls held. Using her armored fingers, she cleaved into the wall. Then she curled her fingers around it and pulled until the piece was ripped free. Then she did it with her other hand. Then again, and again, and again. She continued to do that until she ripped open an entry that she could easily walk through.

              Four Saxon guards appeared, but with a swipe of her sword, they were killed. Taylor scowled when she noticed that the swipe missed their leader, but no matter. A shadow guard tried to ambush her, but with one hit of her gauntlets, he fell too. She raised her sword to kill the leader. She needed to do this fast then go and route the others. “No, stop, PLEASE!” Pathetic that he couldn’t even die on his feet.

              Before she could swing down, a voice stopped her. “Whoa there, no reason to go medieval on the guy.”

              Tilting her head around, Taylor looked at the person who dared to challenge her. Brillant red hair. “Tristan?”

              His grin drooped in confusion before he pulled it back up. Something poked her brain.

              Tristan never grinned like that.

              “Hey, now let’s slow down here, no reason to go so lethal on the guy. He looks roughed up enough.” He shrugged carelessly. Taylor scowled at the disrespect. Something made her turn to face him. Something was wrong.

              Tristan never showed this kind of disrespect before. He also wasn’t one for mercy.

              “They caged me. Left me to die in that locker, again!” She couldn’t help the growl of her rage. The sheer depravity, the sheer arrogance of it. Blue eyes.

              Tristan had brown eyes.

              “Locker?” Tristan quickly looked at it before turning to look at her with realization. “Okay, these guys put you into there?”

              “Yes, they caged me.” Taylor thundered, annoyance running through her veins.

              The Saxons never caged her. They couldn’t even if they tried.

              “Okay, okay. Do you mind me asking you something real quick? Do you know where you are?”

              “I-.” She had raised her hand to gesture, but then she caught sight of it. Her gauntlet was black. Why was it black? She never wore black armor before. That was more Agravain’s look. The thumping in her head increased. She moved to cradle it, until she saw her sword. It was black. WHY WAS IT BLACK!? She dropped it, it disappeared into motes of golden light before it even hit the ground. That never happened before. “I-I…need to leave.” She looked around. The once near wild battlefield started to fade back into the Boardwalk. “I need to leave.”

              Tristian, no, the man, the hero must of saw something in her expression because he quickly stepped away from the exit of the base. “Okay, do you need something?” What did she need? She looked around, then caught the very edge of it. There, that place. She could hide there! She leapt away without another word.

              Taylor never knew that Assault sighed in relief as soon as she rocketed toward the docks. “Alright Leet, why don’t we get you into a nice comfy cell huh?” He turned toward the villain pair, only then seeing the other’s condition. “And some hospital time for Uber.”

              It was only when she was nearing the abandoned buildings, she remembered something. She shouldn’t have been able to leap like this. That caused her to lose control and crash into it. A flash of gold and she ran out of the rapidly collapsing warehouse. She ran and ran. She ran until she found it.

              It looked far more rundown than she remembered. The white paint turned gray and more windows broke, but it was still there. She went inside, stumbling up the rotting steps, from her haste, and from them being far worse than she remembered. She quickly got up to the second floor, found her spot, and nearly collapsed. It still had that old office that was boarded up, and locked. Its walls were still sturdy enough for her to slide down and stare out into the view.

              It was a weird warehouse that never really saw much use after the original company abandoned it. It was right between downtown and the docks, a few miles from her house. It was big, wide and very open. The doors had fallen long ago. It had an office on the technical second floor, but it was really its own building inside of it. The office was held up by its own steel supports, so even if the rest of the building collapsed, Taylor always suspected that the office would stay up. It used to have a circle window right across the office, but the glass broke a long time ago. It did have a nice view. She could see all the way out into the bay, even catch sight of the Rig in the right weather.

              She used to sneak out here all the time. It was one of her favorite hiding spots if she needed to get away from home. She explored so many abandoned buildings near here. They were her very own adventure tale. Emma had never wanted to come. It was one of the few things that was just her’s. Too bad that it caused a fight with her parents. Dad wanted her to take some protection, but he was alright with her here. It was just a few blocks from her house. Mom did not like it. She absolutely hated it, especially when she almost got into a fight with a homeless man. Her parents fought about it, it was the reason her mom left, a drive to cool off. It was the reason she didn’t pick up when Mom called that night.

              Like with no cell phones, Taylor followed that rule. It was the last thing her mother ever told her to do.

              Taylor just stared out the broken window. She was upset. She didn’t know why she was here. She hugged her knees, trying to calm down. She didn’t know what was going on, she didn’t feel like this was her. She tried to hold it in. Sunlight reflected off the broken glass. She put her head down and cried.

              She cried because she didn’t know what was going on. She cried because she was trapped in metal again. She cried because she was back here. She cried because her hair was changing. She cried because of the dreams. She cried because she missed her mom. She cried because she was frustrated with everything going on. She cried to cry.

              It could have been days, hours, minutes or even seconds, but Taylor didn’t care. She cried. When her tears weakened, she heard a squeak. It was Addy, waving one of her legs. “H-hey Addy,” Taylor pawed at her cheeks, wiping away her tears. “Do you know what is going on?” Addy bowed. Taylor blinked, surprised. “Y-y-you do?”

              A string of golden light from where Addy’s would be encircled Taylor from the neck down, completely covering her. The string flashed, and she was in an armored dress again.

              It was an old European styled dress with silver armor. It had a breastplate, two stripes of armor down the sides of the skirt, gauntlets and greaves with a dark blue loincloth attached to the dress. The dress was white under dress with a blue over gown.

              Even though she only wore it for a moment, this felt far better than the black armor. The black armor was heavy, almost irritating with how uncomfortable it was. This, this was like wearing her favorite, comfortable pajamas. It was familiar, and the way it felt was just natural.

              A car backfired, jolting Taylor and nearly causing Addy to topple over. Taylor shook her head, then looked back to her little spider friend. “W-well this is good and everything, but could you…um…get me something that could blend in? I think I want to head home.” Addy bowed again. The clothes flashed again, transforming them.

              They turned into a black sweater dress with white sleeves, a grey cloak and a black should-wrap with a white fur collar over it. She tilted her head a little, quickly realizing the grey hood was up. Taylor took a moment to look over her new dress. Then she looked back to her little friend. “Okay…what does this do? Most people don’t wear cloaks anymore, Addy.” The spider simple bowed toward her right hip. Taylor grabbed it before she even thought about it.

              As soon as she touched it, she knew the dagger.

              [Carnwennan]: The Dagger of the King. Once claimed to be a miracle passed to mortals from a fae, it has powers beyond what most mortals could ever craft. It had two abilities. One was the blending of shadows. With it, the user could be unperceivable in shadows or darkness.

              Taylor quickly unsheathed it, smiling happily at her friend. “Thank you, Addy.” The spider squeaked happily back, before scurrying back to her hair. Taylor quickly ran back to her home, sticking to the shadows. She was confident in the dagger’s ability, and she didn’t even care when she was seen hopping between shadows. Something told her it was fine. She would not be seen. It was a quick run to her house, filled with the confidence of the unseen.

              When she made it home, she barely acknowledged that her dad must still be at work. She went straight to her room. With a sigh of relief, the outfit, and Carnwennan disappeared in golden motes. With them gone, Taylor felt a wave of exhaustion hit her. Stumbling to her bed, Taylor barely got out a “Goodnight Addy,” before passing out. Addy squeaked, then hastily moved her hair into a sleeping braid. She laid there until her worried father shook her awake. She was just conscious enough to change into sleeping clothes before falling back to sleep for the rest of the day and night.

              In the middle of the night, with moonlight shining through her window, Taylor felt a presence. She stayed asleep even when this presence started to whisper to her.

              “Rest, sleep, dream, and listen.” Addy woke with an annoyed squeak at it. It chuckled before it made the spider fall back to sleep. Taylor’s left eye twitched.

              “Did you know that some of the oldest gods were trees? Gods to have many similarities to trees. They needed some good soil, a base of power to take root, and then were watered to grow from that with prayers.”

              “Anyone then could be counted as a god if they were worshipped enough. Like you did. People all over the world loved you, worshipped you, and many religions have followed you. They had watered you with their prayers.”

              “Normally that wouldn’t be too bad, but now you are too big to be in a physical vessel anymore. Even if you had the body of when you were taken to Avalon, you would not be able to handle this new strain. So, I, as a wonderful magus, took inspiration from others of the same profession.”

              “I broke your power up into seven classes. Each one was of different lives that you had walked. Still, that won’t last forever. Soon, those walls I made to restrain your power will be broken. Your power will eventually mix, allowing you to access it all eventually. Still, keep them separated for now, until you can handle them all, my little student.”

              “I hope with seven different lives that you can find happiness this time.”

              “So come, King of Knights, show me who you will lead.

              So come, Queen of Escalation, show me who you will defeat.

              So come, Lion King, show me who you will save.

              So come, King of Storms, show me who you will trample.

              So come, Nameless King, show me who you will protect.

              So come, King of Graveyards, show me who you will put to rest.

              So come, Dark-Tainted Tyrant, show me who you will slay.”

              Taylor rolled over with a muttered curse, “Stupid mage. I’ll do what I want.”

              The presence paused, then laughed as it faded away.

              Across the city, a meeting was taking place. Protectorate ENE Headquarters was different than many people expected, or at least how they operated. Many thought that Protectorate was out and about with the Wards, keeping a close eye on them like a shadow guardian. That was not the truth. Only one member of the Protectorate was out near the wards. One was patrolling as normal. Every other member stayed at headquarters or was on console duty, during their shift.

              Twice a week, at random, they hold an hour-long meeting for every member of the Protectorate and the Wards’ leader. Challenger was getting transferred out because of her wounds from Lung acting up, which put her on console duty until the end of the month. Triumph was patrolling with his former team, giving him some time to recoup from his recent promotion. That left Armsmaster, Miss Militia, Assault, Battery, Velocity, Dauntless and Aegis available for the meeting.

              “With Cricket and Mush out for at least a month, that should give us some breathing room.” Armsmaster reported, getting certain acknowledgements from his team. “There is just one last thing that needs to be covered.” The Protectorate leader glanced at Assault, who was uncharacteristically quiet for the meeting. “Your encounter with the new villain that attacked Uber and Leet. Why haven’t you filed a report yet?”

              He seemed to get out of his rut because he gave a smirk. “Before I do that, Puppy, could you do me a favor?” Battery groaned. Assault continued as if that was an agreement. “I know that you saw that…person too. Could you give me a description?” The man asked vaguely.

              Now all members were giving him a look of confusion. “Yeah? They were armored in black.”

              Assault nodded, “Yeah, anything else? Like what do you think their gender was? What hair color, what kind of mask, how they were armored?”

              “Of course, they maybe were a…” Battery paused. “There hair color was…They had…The armor was…” She started to answer then trailed off, becoming more confused with each unanswered question. Now the rest of the group was giving her alarmed expressions.

              Assault nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said with a sigh. “When I asked Leet about them, he had that same problem, same with me when I tried to start my report. I can’t remember a description about them other than black armored.”

              That was interesting. Armsmaster glanced at the pair, “A stranger effect?”

              Assault wiggled his hand. “If it is, it’s a weak one. Leet knew who attacked him, he just couldn’t give any details. Even the video we have could be used to identify them if they went out again. It would just be useless if they don’t go in that whole armor get up.” He shifted uncomfortably. He sighed in obvious reluctance. “I also don’t know how to file the encounter.”

              “File it?” Even Miss Militia seemed confused with that. There were only so few ways to file a fight between parahumans.

              Assault glanced at everyone before he gave his answer. “Between defense, or a Marquis defense.” Everyone tensed. Marquis Defense was an unofficial policy to label a fight. A Defense Fight, was if the parahuman acted to defend someone in costume, either themselves or others. A Marquis Defense, named after New Wave’s arrest of Marquis, was one when a fight skirted the Unwritten Rules of Parahumans.

              Assault rushed to explain, as if he was defending himself. “During the fight, Armor-.” He paused to glance at Armsmaster, as if questioning the name. He nodded back; it would do for now. “-didn’t seem to know what was going on. They called the metal thing a cage, a locker.” Armsmaster looked at the pictures of the metal contraption. It did not look like a locker. “They also called me a personal name, as if they knew me. The more I talked to them, the more they seemed to get it together. I think that getting trapped in that thing caused a flashback.” A flashback of what was unsaid. All parahumans had one universal trauma that could cause them to lash out.

              Armsmaster grimaced. That put the whole thing into a new perspective, one that he didn’t like. Even experienced heroes lashed out if their trigger event was relived. Considering that it was the first time they had seen this parahuman, and with Assault’s testimony, that would put this under a Marquis Defense. “Let’s table the filing for now, what can you tell us?” This kind of thing happened before, if the parahuman in question couldn’t stabilize, they could harm civilians.

              Assault looked relieved, he was obviously worried he might have stepped out of line. “Other than a stranger rating of one or two, I can tell you they are a brute. A strong one too. As soon as they started to actually try to get out, they ripped the thing apart with maybe three hits.” A brute four, maybe five. “They hit Squealer’s tank like it was made of rubber. Popped the tires in the first hit. Then they ripped it apart like cardboard.” Definity a high brute rating. Armsmaster himself had a rough time stopping some of Squealer’s vehicles lately. “A takeoff/rocket mover, maybe a three or four. They literally rocketed away. I found an abandoned warehouse that they hit, but I don’t know if that was because they couldn’t avoid it, or they didn’t care.”

              Assault paused, seemingly just to realize all the powers he just listed. He continued, “The stranger effect. They also had a sword that they could call on. It just appeared and disappeared as soon as they let it go.” The man squinted in remembrance. “I think that it could also extend its reach. They moved so fast, Leet couldn’t tell me one way or another.” He shook his head. “Leet did tell me that they were in civilian clothes before they came out of that pod armored, so I don’t know if the armor was brute or a changer power.”

              “That is some list,” Dauntless whistled. Armsmaster had to agree, but they could group them together to whittle it down. Mover and brute together, maybe even take off the changer altogether. The stranger had to stay on, but maybe get the striker moved to possible. Still, that gave them at least an eleven/twelve if they weren’t generous.

              Armsmaster nodded and gave out orders, “Report as soon as you see them, they might be unstable. Don’t engage unless necessary. Call in for back up as soon as you can. Dismissed.” He had to think of ways to contain them if they proved to be troublesome.

              “You don’t need to tell me twice,” Aegis muttered, leaving. It was his job to brief the Wards on the meeting if he felt it necessary. The others all left too. Armsmaster quickly retreated to his lab. Dragon said she would be busy for a few days, so he had some time to start thinking about containing this new valuable before he could ask for her help.

Chapter Text

Awakening 1.3

              The first thing that Taylor felt when she woke up was overwhelming hunger. The type that you could think of nothing else until it was satisfied. She quickly got dressed, in a sweater and jeans, barely paused in the restroom to wash up, then headed straight down. She also barely acknowledged her dad before quickly making herself a plate, nearly knocking him out of the way. She sat at the table, then devoured the food. She stood up and made another plate, then sat back down, then devoured the food again. It was during her third time doing that, she sensed a hand near her food, that wasn’t hers!

              She stabbed a knife near it, then let out a hissing growl at its owner. Taylor paused when she saw it was her dad, with his hands raised up in surrendered. He looked started, if the way his eyes were so big. “A little hungry, are we?” Taylor grunted back before going right back to the kitchen. She didn’t bother making a plate this time, she just ate it right out of the pan. It was only then she realized she just ate many eggs. She shrugged and finished them.

              She quickly reused the pan to start making bacon, a lot of bacon. “Yeah, don’t know why, just really hungry.”

              She ignored her dad’s muttered, “I can tell,” she thought she wasn’t supposed to hear that. “So…Are you okay? When I got home, I had to nearly drag you out of bed to get you to change out of your street clothes.”

              That broke Taylor out of her hunger focused thoughts. Well, that, and the fact she just ate enough eggs for three teenagers and a grown man. Danny wasn’t a chief; he was barely a cook. What he was, was a man use to using cheep to make something for a bunch of ‘hangery’ dockworkers. He had been applying those lessons with his daughter, ever sense she started to eat like one. That meant he made grub, the type of grub that can be cooked in mass. That was also why he was slightly worried about his daughter. She just ate enough for a group of dockworkers to be satisfied with.

              This was all unknown to Taylor, as the question froze her thoughts. Between the hunger, and passing out as soon as she got home, she didn’t think of how to explain to her dad. “Sorry, I was tired from working out.” What.

              “Taylor! You know the doctors told you not to do anything strenuous after an episode.” Her dad rebuked.

              Taylor was lucky she was facing away from her father. The lie did not process much thought to it but seemed like a good one. “I know, I know, but I felt fine by the time I got back from the practice exam.”

              Her dad still grumbled. “At least we know why you were knocked out yesterday.” He gently, cautiously moved Taylor back to the table, taking over the cooking bacon. “That also explains why you are so hungry too, you missed dinner.” And lunch, Taylor mentally added. She was heading home when the whole thing happened yesterday. Which, now that Taylor was in a more stable thought process, thought she should investigate.

              All she remembered was being put into some kind of metal contraption she couldn’t get out, then thinking that she was fighting the Saxons, whoever they are. 

              “I’m actually surprised that you slept through the racket.” Taylor cut off that line of thought to listen to her dad. “One of the older warehouses near here collapsed last night. I heard caused a huge the racket.”

              I did that! Taylor barely remembered slamming into the building, still reeling from her…thing. “Umm, is did the Association own that building?”

              Danny smiled over his shoulder, “Yes, but it actually helped us out some.” Seeing the questioning look on his daughter’s face, she explained, “because it wasn’t us, or the city, we need to clean it up. The city will pay us for it too. It might not be good work, but it will put food on the table for a few of my boys.”

              Taylor thought for a minute, then something poked her thoughts. “What are you going to do with all the supplies from it?” A questioning look, unknowingly identical to his daughter’s, caused Taylor to speak her thoughts. “The wood alone might be reusable, the building materials, the open space. All the resources there, what will happen to them?”

              “They will probably be thrown away,” Her dad answered with a shrug, startling her. “Most of those warehouses need to be tore down. They aren’t safe. The materials gained from them will just cover the cost of clearing the derby.” He paused. “You know, this is the most I think that you ever asked about the association in a while. You were always more into your mom’s work.”

              Taylor winced as his voice nearly cracked at the end. She hurriedly continued the conversation, before it could be dragged down. “Yeah, well, books were always better than smelly old guys.”

              Her dad laughed, breaking the somber mood that tried to pull him under. “That’s not what you thought when you stole my boots and did ‘union inspections’ around the house for an hour.”

              An embarrassed flush spread across her face, “Daddddd.” She whined back. He ruffled her hair as he set down another plate for her.

              The meal was quick to finished as Danny raced from the house with a curse when he saw the time. Taylor cleaned the dishes. When her dad had taken over cooking, Taylor cleaned the dishes when she could. They did have a dishwasher, but it broke about a year ago, and her dad never got around to fixing it.

              She quickly moved to their old computer, one that she thought might have been around before she was born and quickly logged in to PHO. She quickly found the Uber and Leet channel and quickly found the thread she was looking for.

              It had numerous posts on it, ranging from reactions to just comments, but one thing stood out for her. Not one talked about how she looked. It was all her actions, their thoughts on what she was, a ward or villain, her powers, but nothing about how she looked like. Going to the main post, she quickly found what she was looking for. It confused the hell out of her.

              It said that they couldn’t tell people what she looked like. Not wouldn’t but physically couldn’t. The only thing that they remembered of her was that she was wore black armor, and she was pale. It got a lot of heat, even Taylor could tell that people were starting to get upset about it. It wasn’t until some PRT poster explained that things started to calm down.

              Apparently, no one could give details about what she looked like except for being in black armor. They really couldn’t even describe the amor other than the color. Some said she was pale, but the degree of paleness was different, and not even everyone could even give that. The good news was everyone knew her. They could pick her out of a line up, they could even name her, but they couldn’t tell what she looked like. Her actions though, that they could talk about all night long.

              They also had a lot of videos of the fight too. Taylor watched a video of the fight and cringed with every hit she gave. While her details were shrouded like they said, she still could make out every punch she threw. The way the tank shuttered with every hit definitely made her nauseous. Still, there was one question she needed to answer. “How did I do that?”

              A squeak pulled her attention down to the desk. Addy looked up at her. Taylor smiled, she was in such a rush to get to dinner, she didn’t let Addy get into her hair this morning. “Hey Addy, do you know why people don’t recognize me?” She liked to talk to Addy. While the spider didn’t have very many expressions outside of body language, it was still something to talk to when she was alone. She heard of something similar from the college called a ‘rubber duck?’ Of course, Addy was much better than a rubber duck.

              She was surprised when Addy gave her nod/bow in answer. “You do?” Another nod/bow. “How?” Addy then took her two front legs and tapped her head. Taylor blinked down at the spider, the spider stared back. “What?” Addy tapped her head again. “You?” Addy gave another nod/bow and tapped her head again.

              Taylor quickly launched into an interrogation, that was quickly stalled. She had to quickly reword things and rephrase questions because of a simple fact. Addy didn’t know English. She also wouldn’t learn English. Addy was so light, and relatively small, that she couldn’t use a keyboard without butchering words so badly, Taylor couldn’t tell what they were. That and Addy couldn’t spell to save her life. Between the two problems, Taylor had long given up on getting much back from Addy other than simple answers.

              From what Addy was able to relay, Taylor didn’t have to worry about someone instantly knowing her on the street. Addy kept any details about her from spreading, and if Taylor didn’t go out in the same outfit as last night, she was safe. They still could figure out who she was if they saw her change, followed her, or if Taylor left clues to herself. Still, they wouldn’t be able to superimpose Taylor over any of Addy’s outfits.

              The relief made her almost boneless. She then took Addy to her workout room in the basement. If she could go out unnoticed, then she should try and get some understanding of her powers.

              Taylor set Addy on her shoulder. “Alright Addy, let’s see what I can really do.” It quickly turned out to be nothing unusual. She was still only able to do her workout routine normally. Taylor pouted at Addy after her warmup. “What’s different?” Addy tilted and squeaked in question. Taylor pushed down a blush. She forgot to explain what she was doing. “I wanted to see what kind of powers I have, but I can’t get them to work.” Addy squeaked again, then tapped her head. “You…?” Then Taylor realized what her friend was trying to say. “You’re dress? That’s how I get my powers?” Addy tilted side to side, before she gave a hesitant nod/bow. “How many outfits do I get with you?” Addy hesitated, then laid down on Taylor’s shoulder and raised seven of her legs. “You have seven outfits I can change into?”

              Addy quickly got to her feet and shook side to side. “No?” Addy then started tapping on Taylor’s shirt, then almost kneading the fabric when Taylor just kept looking at her. It took Taylor a minute, then she snorted in bemusement. “Right, the outfit I have on. So, you can change me into six different outfits that I don’t have on right now?” Addy gave her nod/bow.

              “Alright then let’s try something familiar then. Let’s…” Taylor paused to think of what she wanted to change into. Not the black one. Even if she wasn’t completely lucid when she wore it, she still remembered what it felt like. It felt stiff, almost itchy in uncomfortableness. It made her feel on edge, like she was about to be attacked. The gray one wasn’t too bad, but it didn’t feel powerful. It made her feel meek almost. She didn’t want that. She spent far too much time feeling meek. That only left one. “The blue one.”

              It was only because she knew that they were there that Taylor was able to see the threads before they glowed and replaced her outfit. Taylor let out a breath of amazement. It was amazing how rich it looked. The fabric was tough, but stretchy enough that Taylor had full range of motion. The armor didn’t hinder her in any way. When she inspected the lower half, she was surprised. She might need time to get used to the skirt, but with all the ruffles, it was impossible to see anything above her knees.

              Taylor laughed and twirled around. It felt like she was dressing for a ball or something. It felt great! “Addy, this is amazing! Addy?” Taylor tried to find her friend, who seemed to disappeared. Then she felt something. It was almost like a mental hum, it was weird. “Addy?” The hum came again, this time, Taylor got the distinct feel of affirmation from it. She touched the back of her head, and she felt that her hair was all tied up in a bun with bow. She touched it and got another hum of confirmation. “So, you’re like this every time I change?” Another hum. “Well okay then.”

              She started to explore what she could do.

              It was like a dream. Everything was so easy! The weights were weightless; she barely felt them at all. Her stretches didn’t burn, she was even able to go over her personal best when she did some exercises. She laughed when she realized how easy it was.

              A thought came to her when she was twirling around in happiness. It was vague, but she decided to give it a try in the privacy of her own basement. That sword that she had. She wanted it back. Then, with tensing of her grip, she was holding it.

              It wasn’t the black sword like it was yesterday. She couldn’t even make out the sword visually. It looked like some wind was twirling around her hand. Other than a slight distortion in the air, Taylor would have side it was invisible. She still had instinctive knowledge about her sword though. How long it was, its shape, all that Taylor instantly knew. There was one thing that she didn’t account for. How light it was.

              She swung it around, getting a feel for it. While it was still heavier than her weights, she still could use it with one hand. She swung it easily. It was no burden. She had fun with it. She got careless.

              She made a mistake.

              With a wild swing, she grudged into the stone wall of her basement. It went through the wall like a hot knife through butter. The sound and the act were enough that Taylor quickly saw the damage she wrought in her carelessness.

              She stared at the gash. That was solid stone. There was nothing on the other side of it other than stone, or maybe the ground. Taylor had overheard her dad complaining about the foundation of the house. It had a four-foot-thick slab of stone, and she went through it like nothing. She couldn’t cover this up. How could she cover this up? Would she get in trouble? How would she explain this?

              Thoughts and possible consequences circled around her head, until she nodded. “Nope.” She quickly dismissed her outfit and left the basement.

              After a rest and eating again, Taylor pondered her problem. She needed to see what she could do. She couldn’t do that in the house, so what could she do? For some reason, her dad’s seat bugged her as she thought about it. It was like something about the seat- no her dad bugged her. It wasn’t until she glanced into the kitchen from the table did the memory made itself known.

              Her dad answered with a shrug, startling her. “Most of those warehouses need to be tore down. They aren’t safe."

              The warehouses! She could practice there! Taylor quickly cobbled a plan together. A quick search between the news and internet, then had Addy change her into her gray outfit, and slipped out to the Dock Workers offices. There she found her dad’s secretary and quickly changed to her blue outfit, startling the man. “Hello, I would like to have a meeting with Danny Hebert. I hear we could help each other out.”

Chapter Text

Interlude 1

The Man in a King’s Place:

              The intercom on his desk buzzed, “Um, Danny? We have a cape here to see you.”

              Danny paused in his paper pushing. A cape? “Can they wait for a minute? I’ll get organized back here for them.”

              A pause, “Yeah, she said she’ll wait on ya’.” A she? Unless she was new, there wouldn’t be that many capes that would talk to him. That kid from the empire, maybe that fighter chick, but not anyone else from them. ABB didn’t have any out and about female capes. Maybe the Protectorate? No, they would go to the head instead of him, even if the head hasn’t been in the Brockton since before Danny’s wife died.

              Concealing papers, he pushed the green button on the intercom. It lit a green light on his secretary’s desk that let him know that he can let someone in.

              He imagined many things, what he got was none of them. She was young. That was the first thought that came to his mind. She might even be younger than Taylor. She looked half a foot shorter than his daughter, so that might mess up his perception, but anyone could see she wasn’t an adult, a teenager at most. She wore a blue dress with armor on, with an exposed face. That shocked him, until he focused enough, and the face started to blur. Oh, some kind of power bullshit. He rose and shook her armored hand over his desk, “Danny Hebert.” He cleared his throat, “Have a seat, please. You wanted to see me?” He sat back down.

              “Yes, thank you.” She followed. “Please, call me Art.” Art? Not much of a cape name then. There was some European accent hidden in the voice, but Danny couldn’t make out what. She sat with grace, the kind that would make him feel awkward by comparison if this wasn’t business. “I wanted to ask for a proposal.”

              Danny allowed a brow to rise. “A proposal? I’m sorry, but we can’t give you any materials here, those all belong to the Dockworkers Association.” Leet had tried the same thing before, so had a few low-level tinkers before someone swiped them up. Most of them got sent out of town quick.

              She shook her head. “No, a…” she paused, “service exchange.”

              A job exchange? A second brow followed his brother. Danny had a quick thought about how his wife always complained about his control of his brows. She couldn’t even keep a straight face. “What do you have in mind?”

              “I recently heard of a warehouse collapsing. The news had said that many are in a similar state of disrepair.” She let that linger for a moment, to see if he had anything to say about that. He didn’t. “I propose an exchange of services for them.”

              Danny leaned back. It made him look taller. “An exchange? For what? To repair those warehouses and give you money for them? A favor maybe?” Both were off the table. They didn’t have money, and a favor might burn them later.

              She shook her head. “No, I wish to use those warehouses, which when they would collapse, have your men clean them up.”

              Your men huh? So, she knew that he practically ran the place. The only one that could realistically outrank him was the head of the Union. Everyone knows that they don’t go busting the chops of the guy who gets you work. “Now why would I do that?” This was a sales pitch. Something he hadn’t reserved in a while.

              She was still calm as she answered. Many newbies liked to add passion to their pitch. That only worked with a group, or those easily swayed. “The jobs that come with cleaning them out. Just on the brief premise of cleaning up the debris would take a week at least. That would generate jobs that you could use.” The that you need remained unsaid.

              “How would I pay for that? You said that they were in a state of disrepair. Most of the materials wouldn’t cover the jobs.”

              For the first time, her expression narrowed. “Then use all the materials. Down to the nails that hold the boards. The boards themselves. Completely scrap them down. Other than the workers, and transportation of the collapsed materials, you would shoulder no cost. You would get all the revenue of the materials that you could find.”

              Danny nearly smiled. That was a tell. She was someone used to telling others what to do. Outside of the materials, he could swing some funding from the city too, something about cleaning up the docks. It was getting close to tourist season. “What would you be doing with the warehouses? What would you get out of this?”

              Another expression, one of frustration appeared on her face. It was hidden though, deeply hidden. If Danny had never seen some incredible negotiators before, he would have missed it. He briefly thought it was about him questioning her, “I need them to practice.” He reevaluated as she explained. “I’m sure you have heard of the recent problems on the Boardwalk yesterday.” He nodded. “I…lashed out when those fools caught me unawares. I wish to remedy this. The warehouses would be isolated enough that I could do so with privacy.”

              “Training.” Danny nodded. She was frustrated by herself, not with him. She challenges those that challenge her. She doesn’t think that she is perfect. A girl with a good head on her shoulders, but headstrong. Danny thought for a moment. “What do you plan to do with this training?”

              “Do?” That seemed to strike the girl. “I want to be prepared for such an occasion again. I do not want to harm those that do not need to be.”

              “What about patrolling, stirring up the gangs? My men work here; I do not need you going around and causing our work to be more dangerous than it already is. We also are not that fond of the Protectorate.”

              That made her face become stern. “I do not have any desire to patrol the city like some animal marking territory. If I see injustice on my way to the warehouses, I will stop it. But I will concede that this is not my land. I will not go looking for it, and I will leave gang violence amongst the gangs, but I will intervene if civilians will be brought into it.”

              Danny thought. This was an opportunity. This would get jobs flowing again. With the warehouses, and if he was lucky, other buildings too, he might get people interested in the area again. It would be the start of a momentum that they needed. It did have some risks, but all change had risks. Danny glanced at the clock; Roy should still be in the office. “I need to make some calls to make sure that such an exchange wouldn’t step on anyone’s toes. Come by the office in two days, and I should have your answer.”

              With a polite thank you, she left. With a press of a button, he a red light flipped on his Eric’s desk. A red one that told him to hold anyone coming in. He then called the mayor.

              It was a long call. The city agreed to pay for some of the cleanup, but it would have to be spread out. Danny didn’t think that would be problem. The mayor had probably agreed so readily because it wasn’t about the ferry again.

              Fifteen minutes after that call had ended, he phoned another number. One that he would deny ever knowing if questioned. The one who picked up wasn’t the one that he was expecting. It was only a growl on the other end that got his brain moving again. “Sorry, sorry. Thought it would be one of your minions. I did need to talk to you though.”

              Danny got up and looked out his window. “Got a visitor today. A cape, girl, the one that showed up on the Boardwalk yesterday. Non-Affiliated. Wanted to use some old warehouses as a training yard. Said she wouldn’t patrol the area, but if she sees anything not between gangs, she will step in. Might ask her to be some muscle if the Merchants start trouble again.”

              There was a grumble on the other side of the phone. “Are you trying to oppose me?”

              Danny couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “If I wanted to do that, I wouldn’t have told you.”

              A moment of thinking, then “Do what you want with her.” The ending sound filled the speaker.

              Danny snorted, he wasn’t really offended. Their calls never lasted long. “Goodbye to you too, Lung.” He put the phone down and started getting things ready for his meeting with Art in two days.

The Prince who would be King:

              Kaiser reviewed what footage that his men uncovered about the new cape yesterday. It wasn’t much. Even his moles in the PRT didn’t have anything of value to add. A cape that strong, just coming out to deal with Uber and Leet? Absurd. Still, she could be of use to his empire.

              Max-no Kaiser, was in his seat of power. It was his seat of power in his Empire. Not his father, who only had power because of his mask. Not his brutish sister that wouldn’t know real power if it bit her. His seat. One that he didn’t have to be Max to wield out of the mask. One day, he wouldn’t even need the mask. This city will be his kingdom, his empire that would rule for a thousand years.

              Hookwolf was making noises of discontent, especially when that Undersider girl attacked some of his bits. Purity was still trying to ‘get out’ of his group. Krieg was selling information to their overseas allies. Rune was causing some noise with the younger members of the group.

              They all seemed to think that they had an actual say in what happens in his empire. Hookwolf was easily distracted. Give him some initiations to cover, and he’ll be brought to heel. Maybe let him lose on some idiots that thought to oppose him. Purity will come back, she will always come back. If she didn’t, he would make her. Krieg was useful, but a bit of an idiot if he thought he was being sly in those backroom deals. He’ll never get anything of true note. Rune, a stern talking to, maybe some roughing up, and she’ll fall back in line.

              No one could go against him for long. The only ones that had ever were dead. This new cape wouldn’t last long if she did. Not like Lung. Lung was a challenge. Not one that he was overly concerned about. After all, a knight will always kill the dragon.

The Serpent who wanted to be King:

              Coil split the timeline. In one, he reviewed the paperwork on the incident with Uber and Leet that covered the new cape. In another, he made a call.

              “Yeah boss, what do you need?” That smug tone, she knew that he would call her. Half the fun with her, was letting her use that tone, then drop the timeline.

              “The new cape from the Boardwalk. What do you make of her?”

              His Tattletale snorted, “Not much. She’s got some kind of Stranger power that messes mine up.”

              “Nothing?” He pressed, knowing that she could hear the underlining threat in his voice.

              “Nothing that wasn’t obvious. Her stranger effect varies, mostly on details, but I can’t even tell if those details are even real. Could be something fake. She was pissed though.”

              That was news, Assault had said that he was able to get her to leave. “What was she angry about?”

              “Don’t know, I think it was them challenging her? I think it’s a her. A lot of people think that she wore a black dress under that armor.”

              “Useless,” he let his real feelings of her subpar answers show. Before she could counter, he dropped the timeline. It seemed he would just have to wait for more information. He could be patient.

The Magus in the Tower:

              Did you know that power came from stories? Let me tell you one.

              Once there was a girl king that ruled. She was fierce, near perfect, one that looked at the tragedy in her future and still tried to save it. She wielded the greatest holy sword to ever exist. She was a knight with chevalier in her heart, pride on her shoulders, and so so brave. So much so, that all had hailed her as the King of Knights.

              While she was away from her kingdom, traitors struck her image. Tared it, blamed her for things that her uncle, the previous king, did. Upon her return, she had lost her protection, so she took to new armor to replace it. Heavier, darker, by the time she arrived on the hill of her last battle, it was stained black. The rebellion called her the Dark-Stained Tyrant.

              Wounded from her final fight, she passed into a dream. A dream that was familiar, but not quite right. Where she went on a journey to deliver the Holy Sword. One, new its end, she gained a new name, and her title was called the Nameless King.

              When she woke from this dream, she gave up her sword. Her spirit was then sailed to the land of the fae to rest. There, she grew. She grew as she kept the land of the fae away from the land of man. She guarded the gate between them, so they called her the great Lion King.

              Yet, people still yearned for her return. They took her body, and hid it, protected it, with the bodies of her knights that all died on that hill. They hoped that one day, she would wake up. She rise her knights and lead the charge against some distant storm that was coming. They called her the King of Storms.

              Others say she will be reborn. Reborn to protect the realm of man again, this time from the spirits of the past. She will not know what she is, but there will be a sign. She will find the dagger she never gave up in life, wield it once more. She will protect man from those of the grave. The King of Graveyards.

              I had made this story. I wanted that girl king to be happy. I searched through out worlds, and found her making the same mistakes. She would fight, she would not yield, she would rise to every challenge she would ever face. It was the only time she would face them as a girl too, the Queen of Escalation.

              I’m not done yet. I still have much to do, but I hope that this path will lead her to a happier ending. And that she won’t have to wait on some brat to come find her.  

Chapter Text

Remembrance 1.1

              Taylor could barely hold together her excitement. Her dad didn’t recognize her! He was willing to see her idea out! She could barely talk to her dad at dinner because she was so excited. She was nearly climbing off the walls. It had taken her hours to sleep, and even then, she woke way too early the next day. She got up and was ready for the meeting hours ahead of time.

              Addy really helped her in those hours. Taylor had poked and prodded Addy as much as she could. It turned out, that those squeaks that she was hearing were mental. Or soundless, Taylor really couldn’t tell. They also learned that she could send mental sensations to Addy, and vice versa. It was never words though, something Taylor regretted more than once. While practicing, and trying to keep her mind occupied, she had sent enough anticipation that Addy had started to get jumpy.

              She was just so excited to see what she really could do! She rushed to the meeting as soon as she could.

              She took the bus to a nearby restaurant, then headed out into a deserted alley. There, she found an empty building and switched into her gray outfit. She snuck into her dad’s office just like last time and revealed herself to his secretary by switching into her blue outfit.

              His name was Eric. He looked like a stereotypical nerd. He was thin, even thinner than her, short, and wore boxed glasses so thick you had trouble seeing his eyes. He had that nasally voice and was out of breath a lot. The only thing tarnishing the image of a nerd, was that he was dumber than a box of rocks. He couldn’t hold down many jobs, but he could keep a schedule. He could keep one really well, so much so that was why her dad hired him as his secretary. He also delivered mail, which was just finding where the person was, and handing the mail to them.

              Taylor kind of felt sorry for him. Her dad said he did something stupid as a kid, and that it messed up his whole life. She shook off those thoughts and prepared for the meeting ahead.

…

              It was really anticlimactic. Her dad approved, but she could only go through a warehouse a month. Depending on how she does, he might ask her to help with demolishing other stuff, but she had to prove she could. It felt more like getting homework than anything else.

              With a sigh, she headed out to the warehouse. Deciding not to spook anyone, she decided to just walk there, it wasn’t too far. During the walk there, Taylor stretched what she could on the move. Her armor was well done. So was her dress if she was honest. It didn’t constrict her movements. The fabric was tough, but the seams had more than enough reach for her to do anything that she wanted. The gauntlets and grieves had leather attached to the metal, keeping her skin safe from the creases in the armor, but the creases gave her mobility.

              Taylor sent an appreciated feeling toward her friend, only to be ignored. Addy, who was a blue ribbon again, never responded when it was something about Taylor’s powers, or outfits. Taylor still gave her thanks where she could.

              After a half hour walk, she had arrived at the warehouse. It did not look like much. It was twelve foot high, that felt hollowed out when she went inside. The support pillars looked sturdy, but remembering her basement wall, Taylor took extra note of where they were. A quick punch, and the plaster on the walls crumbled. Taking note of that too, Taylor concluded that it wasn’t the best place. It was still better than her basement.

              “All right then.” She held out her hand, and her invisible sword appeared. She held the sword in front of her; feet shoulder length apart and slightly bent her knees. She swung her sword. Then again. Then again. And again. And again. She continued to swing her sword.

              Taylor did this for some time, but then it started to feel strange. Not like she was doing something new, like she was doing something wrong. The closest that she could compare it to was when she tried to right with her left hand. Maybe it was her balance?  She shifted her weight in between every swing to see what felt the best. She did this for a while. Until, with another adjustment, it was too much. She swung her sword, and with her balance off, pulled her weight. She stumbled. That caused irritation to spread through her. She shouldn’t have stumbled. She was just swinging a sword.

              She glowered down at both her feet and sword.

              Then, a gloved hand tapped her shoulder. “What are you doing, Art? Your chores are done, get some rest.” Taylor twirled around.

              The setting sun obscured his face, but he was tall and wore work clothes. At least, tall to her. She replied without thought, “I’m practicing the move from this morning. I do not have it mastered yet.”

              The man stared at her, grunted in amusement, “Then what is just doing that move the same way over and over again going to do?” Taylor blinked in confusion. Isn’t that what she was supposed to do? “Art, do you know what a drill is?”

              Taylor nodded, “A basic movement in sword practice that is repeated over and over again.”

              She was surprised when he shook his head. “It is an exercise to impress instinct into you.” He nodded down at her wooden sword. “Not many people can just randomly get the instincts it takes to use a sword. Many just swing it around like a club at first. The drills help you get those instincts together.” He then herded her toward their sparing area, “Now, try that move against me.”

              Knowing better than questioning an order, she did. It was a simple three strike move that he had taught her. The very basics as he had said. He copied her, blocking her sword. “Again.” She did. “Again.” She did. “Again.” She did, and then, now knowing what he wanted, she did it again. They continued to do it, falling into a rhythm. Then, something changed. During the first strike, the swords clashed awkwardly. It left unbalanced, and open to the second strike that disarmed her, and the third strike that would have hit her shoulder if he didn’t pull back.

              She blinked incomprehensibly at him. That…was the same-, he interrupted her thoughts. “Now what move was that?”

              “I…don’t know.”

              He grunted, amused. “Come now, you’ve been practicing it all day.” He moved away from her, and then demonstrated the move, slowly. “All I did, was lead with my left, instead of my right.” He did that a few times before turning to her. “Now, I can do that move with both my left and right. You can only do that move, with your right. Who do you think has that move mastered more?”

              “You.”

              He nodded. “Everyone can probably do that move if they have enough strength. The difference between mastery and basics, is tailoring it to yourself. Then altering it to fit the situation. If you can do that, then you have mastered it. Why do you think I have you practice against me and Kay?”

              Taylor nodded, that made sense. She then frowned at him, “Then what am I supposed to do if you’re not there?”

              He rubbed his bearded chin. “It won’t be good as the real thing but pretend that we are. Imagine what we would do, act like we are. But don’t stop at just us.” His expression, what she could see of it, became stern. “Imagine a lion, a bear, the knights at the tournaments Kay goes to, everyone that you see, imagine them as your opponents.”

              A flash of the sun, and he, and the field, disappeared. Taylor gasped as she retook the warehouse in.

              …that was a dream? A waking dream? That had never happened before. She had only ever got those vivid dreams in her sleep, something that her doctors quickly pointed out. They thought she just had those dreams when she slept. That was one of the only things that prevented them from shipping her off the loony bin. Were her dreams getting worse?

              Taylor shook her head. She didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t want to think about how familiar that man was, or who Kay was. She just wanted to practice with her sword. She turned around and took her stance again. She breathed.

              The man’s advice echoed through her head, Taylor decided to heed it. She didn’t have much experience in fighting, or at all, but she did have an idea about who did. She pictured her, dark-skinned, slender, a little shorter than her but not much. Taylor closed her eyes, focused on the image. Then she opened them. This imaginary Sophia smirked at her, then lunged. Taylor stepped forward and met her with a swing. Then two more. Stepping back, Taylor restarted that encounter again.

              (Unknown to Taylor, she stopped just swinging her sword and started using the move that man had shown her.)

Chapter Text

Remembrance 1.2

              Taylor fought that imagined Sophia countless times, every time she made sure she lost. This Sophia danced around her sword, faster than Taylor could react. Something in her told her not to imagine someone that she could defeat. She wanted to push herself, not just be happy defeating a high school girl.

              Practice, practice, practice. It wasn’t until the sun reflected off some broken glass that Taylor realized how late it was. Quickly changing into her gray outfit, she rushed home, barely beating her dad.

              Releasing her outfit, she was immediately hit by exhaustion. So much so that she nearly fell asleep right there on the living room couch. Luckily, her dad had ordered some takeout, a treat for the both of them. When she dragged herself up the stairs, she went into her room. She groaned as soon as she saw it. It was a mess. She was so hyper for her meeting that some stuff had been knocked around. She quickly changed into her sleep-clothes and fell asleep, deciding to deal with it in the morning.

              The next morning, Taylor grimaced at how stinky her sheets were. Quickly washing them, a routine that she had perfected in her first few days home from the hospital. Between her body recovering, and her night terrors, she had changed her sheets more than any other time in her life. She did not want to go back to that. So, after her daily rituals, Taylor decided to make a routine. She made a daily planner for the next month, one that she kept hidden in the back of her closet. So hidden, that even she couldn’t reach it without Addy’s help. It was to help her keep her two lives separated. In the mornings, a run, shower, then breakfast. Next, study her subjects. Then, taking the man’s advice, study of opponents. Then rush to the warehouse in her gray outfit, then practice until it was near when her dad came home. Dinner, finish up anything else she had, then her nighttime rituals.

              Over the next two weeks, Addy became her awesome little helper. Taylor didn’t know how, but her friend quickly alerted her when her dad left the office, when he left home, and she kept time too. Without her, Taylor would barely be able to hold it together. Frustratingly, her powers came with a drawback. Anything that she had on her, when she changed, disappeared. It came right back when she changed back, but two things were problems with that.

              The wave of exhaustion. It hit her every time she dismissed her outfits. The more she was in her blue outfit, the more exhausted she felt. Her gray one didn’t have that much push back, but it did have some. She thought it was getting better, but maybe she was just getting used to it.

              The second was that when her stuff reappeared, it reappeared exactly as it was when it disappeared. If she wore a watch that said it was eleven a.m. when she changed, it said it was eleven a.m. when she changed back. It was frustrating, because she couldn’t even access the things that she had unless she changed. It was annoying, but at least it kept her stuff safe.

              As drawbacks went, it wasn’t the end of the world, but it was still pretty bad when she was inside without a way to judge the time.

              Her training was on going. The day after her…episode, she immediately started researching fights. Unfortunately, that came with its own sets of problems. Turns out, videos of fights on PHO, where not that high quality. The ones that were, were edited so Taylor could barely make out anything worth it. She couldn’t even look up animals fighting. It turns out, between parahumans destroying their natural habitat, and public disinterest, not many of those animal documentaries existed anymore, and the ones that did were so old that Taylor couldn’t find ones that would help her.

              So, she focused on what she could do in her blue outfit. She was strong, strong enough that she couldn’t find anything that she couldn’t lift. Her speed was equally ridiculous. Her average running time was over that of cars. It got even better when she came across a little bit of trivia on PHO. A brute cape had mentioned that her strength didn’t help her run, until she started to leap, or launch herself off, almost like a jump from one foot to the other. That had helped out a lot.

              Finally, she learned that the wind that concealed her sword, she could control it. She had to use her sword to direct it, but she could use it for all sorts of things. Unfortunately, this discovery had the unintended consequence of destroying a load bearing pillar. The entire warehouse had come down on her head. She was fine, barely feeling the thing, but it did leave her without a warehouse.

              Her dad was upset. When she explained that just taking out one pillar caused the collapse, he was better but still upset. Luckily, his crew had just gotten done with the other warehouse, so she got to move on to a new one. Apparently, the boys were so happy with work, they got it done fast.

              So, she moved to her new warehouse, this time, walking into it with her blue outfit. Her dad had asked her to do him a favor for finding her one so soon. Her job was to clear out anything of value and sit them outside. His boys, a title he used for anyone in the union under him, would come by the next few days and pick them up. Taylor quickly agreed. It was an excuse to see what she could carry.

              Immediately, she saw the difference between this building and the other one. It was filled with offices. This…would be a lot more work than she thought. Taylor decided to see how much extra work it would be. She investigated each room, seeing what was worth her time to move. Chairs left over, a few desks, some papers that she glanced over, nothing too out there. All the tech was moved out; she didn’t see even a spare wire laying around. The cabinets that she found were all empty, pulled open like the people leaving couldn’t care enough to close them.

              Taylor groaned. This, moving everything worth something, would take a while. She then doubled back. She had checked all the rooms…except one. It was an office room that was attached to the wall, it had two other office spaces, one to the side of its door, and one behind the room. She could have checked it when she checked the other two, but something was off.

              Something told her the room was different. Taylor couldn’t figure out what it was, but she really couldn’t figure out what made this office feel so off. Anytime she looked at it, she just had this sense of foreboding about it. Hence, why she left it for last.

              Taylor shook the feeling off, if she looked inside, and it was just another office room, she would be disappointed. When she tried to open it, she was surprised, it was locked. None of the other rooms were locked. Using her new strength, she forced the lock to turn and opened the door with a little force.

              Taylor blinked.

              The two people inside blinked back.

              They both wore red. One in a skintight bodysuit, that made her obviously a female, and one that wore a red shirt with a black breastplate and pants, male. The female had long hair, and the male had his head shaved down. The man had a huge, obviously powerful gun, one that looked like a sniper to Taylor’s inexperience eyes, pointed out the window. There were several other guns laid out beside the man. The woman had her hand on the man’s shoulder.

              During Taylor’s research of fights, she came across serval videos about her hometown capes, giving her some knowledge about them. Still, even without that, Taylor doubted she wouldn’t know those two.

              Victor. Othala. One of the only openly married couple capes out there.

              “Um…hi?”

Chapter Text

Remembrance 1.3

              Victor didn’t waste any time. He immediately moved the gun out of the window and pointed it at Taylor. She barely got her hands up with a “Wait-!” before he fired. A flash, then something hit Taylor right between the eyes, hard enough to make her head ring. It also flipped her head back, making her look at the ceiling and stumble back. Before she could right herself, something slammed into her side.

              Tingles raced through her, immobilizing her. It was like the one-time Sophia threw a legit punch at her. It made her fall, like someone cut her strings. She looked it up, wanting to know what the hell she did. A kidney punch. It was one of the worst punches she ever got.

              This one easily eclipsed that. Taylor doubled over, trying to protect her side, only for a blur of red to curve around her. Something swiped her feet out from under her and then slammed into the back of her skull. She fell face first on the ground. She barely got her arms under her, before a boot came to the side of her head. She fell again.

              “Who is she?” a woman asked.

              “I don’t know, but she made me miss,” a man answered. They sounded muffled. Taylor’s thoughts, and sight swam. That had hurt. Her body shook, some from pain, but it still felt like she couldn’t move right. Her entire body shook as she tried to right herself.  Something warm trinkled down her face. At first, Taylor thought it was spit, something she had an unfortunate encounter with during school. Her sight focused enough to look at the ground. It had red dots on it. Something dropped from her forehead and made another. Oh…blood. She’s bleeding from her head. That hurt.

              “Did you kill her? Do you still want to try and shot that slant-eye bastard?”

              “No, the opportunity is gone. We need to leave. Krieg will be displeased.”

              Warmth spread on the back of her neck. It was not a kind warmth, like from shower. Something was wrong with it. Vaguely, she guessed she was bleeding from back there too. Taylor deliriously looked up at the duo. Her vision focused. The man was packing up his guns into a case she had noticed before. The woman was looking at the man, completely ignoring Taylor. The man had his back toward her too. She felt annoyed. Shot her, punch her, and now completely ignore her?

              “We’ll take them with us. They survived that shot, they’ll be of use if we can break them.” Break them. Break them. Break her. Suddenly, Taylor didn’t see a man and woman in red. She saw a man in a green suit and a woman in a purple robe. She was in a church, paralyzed, scared, embarrassed, and in so much pain.

              “Just give in, the pain will stop.” A husky giggle. Hands rubbing her, then a painful shock, then more rubbing. “Just give in to me.”

              No.

              No.

              NO!

              Victor barely stood up from his guns when Taylor shot forward. She thrust forward, her sword magically in her hands. The invisible blade punching threw him like it was going through water. Victor coughed, his hands twitching toward the sword. He never got a chance to do more. With a thought, with a pulse, wind surged forth, vaporizing his upper half. A woman screamed. Taylor swung to the side, instinctively knowing where. The screaming stopped, and two thuds hit the ground.

              Taylor breathed. She gazed at the two bodies on the floor. She huffed. She huffed so much it sounded like a wheeze as she tried to get her breathing under control. One was missing the top half, blood slowly pooling. The other made two spots of blood that merged.

              She just killed two people. She never killed someone before, and now that number was two. In books and movies, the first kill was always the hardest. The killer would throw up, cry, deny. Sometimes they even broke down in the very pools of blood they created.  

              Taylor didn’t even know how to drive yet, and she killed two people. She’s a teenager that had never seen so much blood before. She hadn’t ever seen so much as a dead body at a funeral before…so why? So why is she so calm?

              The shock, the disgust, the horror, it’s not there. Why wasn’t it there? It should be there, right? She wasn’t wheezing because she killed those two. She was wheezing because she couldn’t feel anything from their deaths. The only thing she felt was the slight bitterness that they didn’t have a green suit and a purple robe.

              She didn’t even know anyone with a green suit or a purple robe!

              She took a step back and took a deep breath. Then another. And another. She closed her eyes for a fourth. A picture, a dream flew across her mind as she did. Well, two bodies really weren’t anything compared to a mountain of corpses. Right? A dream is like life, right? That’s why she wasn’t freaking out so much. Her dreams had messed with her head. She’ll probably go home and freak out. That is what happens sometimes, right? She shook her head, pushing the panic back. Panic was the enemy.

              Still, she couldn’t just leave the bodies there. She glanced around to see what she could do. A cell phone, one that was getting awfully near Victor’s blood. It was by his feet. He must have picked it up, then dropped it when she attacked. Or it might have just fallen out.

              …Well, he isn’t going to use it anymore. It didn’t look like it was broken, and none of his blood was on it yet. Hopefully her dad would know what do. Didn’t dockworkers have a stereotype for this kind of thing? Plus, it was his fault for making her go here in the first place. Now, she just hoped that she remembered his work phone.