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A Ruinous Gift by Noodlehammer

Warhammer & Worm Xover Rated: M, English, Crime, Words: 298k+, Favs: 3k+, Follows: 4k+, Published: Sep 20, 2023 Updated: Jan 28

2,397Chapter 16: Preparations

Thanks to Alvor for taking a look at this prior to posting.

XXXXX

April 5th, 2011.

Taylor sauntered in through the door, duffel bag thrown over her shoulder.

"Dad, are you here?" She called out, already knowing the answer.

"Taylor?" His confused voice echoed back, followed by footsteps. "I thought…"

He stopped as he came around the corner and saw her duffel bag. Hope grew in his eyes. "Are you moving back in?"

It was a fragile, desperate hope. Maybe she really had been too hard on him.

"Yes, I'm moving back in." Taylor said with a smile, going up the stairs to her room.

"What about your criminal empire?" Dad tried for a mix of humor, disapproval, and confusion. "Are you giving it up?"

"Oh no." She chuckled, ignoring the way his face fell.

Ridiculous, really. As if it was that easy to take a deep dive into the underworld and then come back like it didn't matter. Well, whatever. She would let her father pretend until he either learned to accept it or blew his top. Either way, the situation would be resolved and it no longer cost her anything to give him this.

It would work in her favor, even. The PRT would take notice of her 'return' soon enough and come sniffing around. With Coil's memories added to her own perspective, she knew that the PRT and Protectorate were only relevant on the national and partially global scale. On the local scale they might as well be decoration. Their real job wasn't to fight villains, but to integrate parahumans into society as much as possible.

"If you're going to be living here again, you'll have to go back to school." Dad said cautiously, as if that would make her storm out.

His ploy was obvious – limit the amount of time she had for villainy. Too bad for him that she had more time than anyone in the world now.

"Already handled." Taylor said, dumping the duffel bag on her bed and going for her closet. "Ugh, I can't believe I used to wear these."

Nothing but bland, baggy clothes meant for hiding in. She was glad she'd brought a whole new wardrobe. Her triumphant return to Winslow was going to be amazing.

It might be more than a bit petty to rub her newfound confidence into the faces of a bunch of teenagers, but she still hadn't forgiven any of them for looking down on her. And it wasn't like this body was needed for anything else, so she might as well.

"What do you mean it's already handled?" Dad asked in confusion, standing in the doorway. "The PRT helped with the paperwork so that nobody asked questions, but I still had to pull you out of school."

"Yeah, and I fudged the paperwork again." She explained, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. "Now it says I was away for medical reasons."

With Coil's fingers stuck in everything and Lisa's power-assisted hacking, it was child's play to alter the records.

"Oh, I see." He clearly had no idea what to say to that. "Uhh, are you hungry? We could go out to eat…"

"You've been living off takeout and sandwiches." Taylor interrupted disapprovingly. "The stores are still open, so we're going shopping and then I'll cook something."

"Okay. I'll just… wait for you downstairs, then." He nodded and backed off. "I thought I'd only have to worry about boys at this age…"

XXXXX

"Hey, does this-"

"Yes, Alec, it does count as masturbation." Taylor cut him off.

There were three of them in bed together, two of her and one of him.

"No hesitation at all, I like it." Alec grinned.

"Why? I have twice as many erogenous zones and you still couldn't satisfy me." She snorted.

His grin faded as he considered that. Then he shrugged uncaringly. "My father always did say I was a disappointment."

"Speaking of Heartbreaker, I was planning on killing him soon-ish. You want in?" Taylor offered.

"Do I ever?!" Normally, Alec's enthusiasm was fake and carefully designed to be as annoying as possible. This time it sounded rather genuine. "What do I have to do?"

"Do you think he would show up in person if you sent him a taunting e-mail and told him where you were?"

He snorted in response. "I wouldn't even need the taunt. Why do you think I've been so careful about keeping my head down? He might send a few of my siblings after me first, but he'd want to punish me for running personally."

"Perfect."

"Perfect, sure." He repeated mockingly. "No worries about being mastered now that you have extra bodies?"

"It's sweet of you to be concerned about my virtue." Taylor condescendingly patted his cheek. "But emotional manipulator- type Masters are powerless against me."

"Okay, cool." Alec visibly relaxed. "Why the sudden interest in killing him, though? Or is this my loyalty mission?"

It took her a moment to identify the gamer lingo, then she snorted. He still didn't realize that he was already loyal to her.

"Sure, you can think of it like that. But mostly, I just think that publicly humiliating and killing a notorious villain like Heartbreaker would do wonders for my reputation."

"You're not wrong." He conceded. "What about my siblings? I don't really care if you kill them, but they're nobodies compared to dear old dad."

She shrugged. "The PRT can have them, if they manage to catch them."

"You're really not at all worried about this, are you?" Alec asked, amused.

"I am the absolute worst possible match up for him. A hydrokinetic would do better against Leviathan."

"All this talk about killing my father has me ready to go again." He declared, accompanied by a rise below his waist. "You mind if I use my powers on you? I want to see if they have sexual applications."

Taylor paused in though. Before attaining multiple bodies, she would have hated the idea of anyone being able to manipulate her body against her will. Now it was a very different matter. What was one or two bodies compared to the whole?

"Give it your best shot." She allowed, using one body to straddle his waist and his face with the other.

XXXXX

"Sherrel, meet Trevor, otherwise known as Chariot. Trevor, this is Sherrel, also known as Gearshift. I think you do will do well together." Taylor said, introducing the two Tinkers.

Chariot was an extremely minor cape, so minor that almost nobody knew about him. The only thing he did was joyride through the empty streets at night every so often. He was not even considered either a hero, villain, or rogue.

Both Taylor and the PRT had tried to recruit him, but he was so low profile that it was almost impossible to get a hold of him. The Empire didn't try it only because he was black, the ABB didn't give a shit, whereas Skidmark had ranted about it a bit, but not really done anything.

The low profile was connected to the fact that Coil had recruited him a year ago and kept him in reserve as a potential Wards infiltrator. Frankly, she had no idea what he thought that ploy was going to accomplish.

His specialization was in transportation of the personal variety. There was definitely some crossover with Sherrel's vehicle specialization, mostly in single person vehicles.

Such as motorbikes.

"Boss, you brought me a sweet little junior Tinker to play with?" Sherrel leered salaciously.

Trevor, being a gangly teenager, was struggling mightily to resist the gravitational pull of the older Tinker's chest. He wasn't entirely successful.

"I figured you two could have some interesting collaborations." Taylor ignored Sherrel's lewdness. Trevor was past the age of consent, but she wouldn't have particularly cared even if he wasn't. Glass houses and all that.

"Oh yeah, I can definitely feel a collaboration coming on." Sherrel thirsted.

"Uh, nice to meet you, Miss?" Trevor stammered. He had been more confident before, but it was a thin confidence. Faced with sexually aggressive older woman, he went to pieces fast.

"Miss?" Sherrel was amused. "Well, aren't you polite. Come on, you can share my workshop until the boss lady delivers on her promise of a bigger, better one."

Taylor left them to it. Sherrel would no doubt want to make a bike that would show up Armsmaster's once she figured out how their powers intersected, at which point she'd probably drain the boy dry.

XXXXX

"So, Circus, what is it going to be?" Psyker prompted. "Would you like me to take over the payments Coil was giving you, or would you prefer to leave town gracefully?"

Circus licked her lips nervously, staring at the far too serious and intimidating teenager. "I think I might head towards the southwest. No offense, but you're a bit too ambitious for my tastes."

And that was the truth. Coil had been paying her to do some petty crime on his schedule and otherwise kept her name out of the papers. That was the kind of cape life she preferred. Psyker and her Black Hand were going to make way too many waves and she didn't want to be associated with any of it.

"As you wish." Psyker accepted her decision without any fuss, but Circus wasn't fooled. This crazy teenage girl was a stone cold killer. More importantly, she was Trouble with a capital T.

Best to clear the blast zone as soon as possible. She was extremely glad that she'd never gotten around to stealing anything in her territory.

XXXXX

Lisa pulled along the heavily stacked hand forklift through the Black Hand's new secret underground base, heading for the locker rooms. Coil's mercenaries had once used those, but now the area was taken over by Taylor.

"I come bearing gifts!" She declared, kicking open the door and carefully maneuvering the forklift inside.

The room was full of naked Taylors. Some were still wet from using the shover, others were using blow dryers or hairbrushes, some were simply combing each other's hair with their fingers.

"Finally, I was starting to wonder if you'd gotten lost." One Taylor spoke.

Lisa was grateful for that. The Borg hive mind speak would creep anyone out.

"I had to make sure I got some variety." She defended.

"So I see." The Taylor that had come to inspect the goodies said.

Inside the boxes was a wide range of underwear, from functional to sporty to sexy. A similarly wide range of tops. Jackets and coats. Pants running the gamut from jeans, sweats, formal, leather, shorts, and so on. There were also skirts and dresses of all sizes and styles.

"This is a unique opportunity to dress you up in all the things." Lisa justified. That was why she had volunteered – insisted even – on being the one to buy clothing for all the extra bodies.

"Seriously?" Taylor deadpanned, holding up a nine inch pair of 'hooker heels' with a substantial platform.

"Okay, those were mostly a joke since we've got money to burn now." She admitted with an unrepentant shrug. "I know you've never worn heels in your life, but you might as well learn. Not like it costs you anything."

"Fair enough." Taylor conceded with a shrug of her own.

The mass of Taylors descended on the boxes and began distributing the clothes. It was kind of awe-inspiring to watch, really. The coordination put an ant hive to shame, especially with telekinesis in play. In a matter of minutes all the Taylors were wearing something.

Some were extremely casual, some looked ready to go to a cocktail party, some were tastefully sexy, and a couple were tastelessly skanky.

"Trashy is definitely a bad fit for you." Lisa decided. "You look like an serial killer prowling for victims while posing as an underage hooker. They'd call you the Praying Mantis."

The body in question snorted in amusement and tried to walk a bit in the previously inspected hooker heels. It was awkward for a bit, but she got the hang of it quickly. It was all wrong, though. The spine was too straight, the shoulders too set, the chin tilted too high,… most importantly, the eyes were that of a predator. Instead of saying 'daddy issues, please take advantage of me', it was saying 'try it, I dare you'.

Of course, most people weren't perceptive enough to catch all the nuance, but it would still create a grating sense of unease.

"I need to get you a catsuit." Lisa mused. Alas, catsuits generally weren't something you could pick up from just anywhere.

"The cape costumes I ordered from New York should be coming in soon, so no need for catsuits." A Taylor in a breezy sundress replied.

"Oh, it wouldn't be for caping." Lisa smirked. "Should get you a riding crop, too."

The implication didn't cause any embarrassment, to her disappointment. Professional Office Lady Taylor just raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want me to have a riding crop while within arm's reach of you?"

"I thought you could use something to keep Alec in line, and that one needs a hairbun and glasses." Lisa pointed towards the body that had just spoken. Then she changed the subject before things got any weirder. "Have you figured out yet if all your bodies have powers or if your psychic bullshit is compensating for not having them?"

"All of my bodies have a corona pollentia and gemma." Metalhead Taylor answered.

Lisa's face scrunched in disgust as her power told her exactly how that had been checked. "You cracked open your own skull?" One of them, anyway.

"Why not?" The utter psychopath shrugged like that was nothing. "It's a lot faster and more convenient than trying to get an MRI done or asking Panacea to take a look."

"Okay, putting that aside…" Because holy fuck it needed to be put aside. "Does this mean that all of you has the same power instead of variants like Noelle was supposed to give?"

"I'm pretty sure that I overrode the usual process when I poured my soul into the mold created by the forming clone body." Cowgirl Taylor, complete with cowboy hat and silly tasseled vest, hummed. "And it just feels like my power wants to stick with me."

That had been a thing. Taylor had told her about her suspicions that parahuman powers were something separate from the parahumans themselves. The conjecture and evidence she presented was compelling and Lisa had come around to the idea.

The fact that her own power was conspicuously silent on the matter, even feeling kind of… shifty, was as good as confirmation. Usually it was a chore to get it to shut up, but start talking about powers being something extra? Instant silence. Taylor had even confirmed that she'd be getting a pointedly discouraging migraine from that line of thinking if not for their deal.

You and I are going to have a looooong talk about keeping secrets as soon as I figure out how to talk to you, Power.

That weird squirmy sensation in her brain that she was learning to recognize told her that Power got the message.

"Well, that's nice of it, I guess." Lisa had no idea what to feel about clingy superpowers. "Are you done making clones for now?"

"Yes, this should be enough for now." Yoga Taylor said and they all creepily nodded in unison, all three dozen of them.

"Alright, cool." Lisa repressed a disturbed shiver. "So what's next on the agenda? We're going after the Empire, right?"

"In a manner of speaking." Professional Office Lady Taylor took over speaking again.

One of her other bodies had already styled her hair into a bun and clipped it into place with some pins. A pair of shiny, heeled, black business shoes clacked on the floor as she sat down on the locker room bench and crossed her stocking-covered legs. The only thing missing was a sharp pair of glasses that she could adjust and a professional manicure.

Lisa was totally not envious of how easily Taylor was pulling off the attitude of a bad bitch CEO. Fucking cheat psychic Thinker powers. "In a manner of speaking? You got some trickity plan for them?"

"In order to properly dislodge the Empire 88 from Brockton Bay without an excess of collateral damage, we need to achieve two prerequisite objectives. The first is to at least begin revitalizing the areas of the city outside of their control, and the second is to damage their reputation."

Lisa understood the second objective. Villains lived and died by their reputation. The first one, however, she didn't get. "Okay, doing that shouldn't be a problem now that we've got Coil's construction company and his contacts, but why is it necessary to get rid of the Empire 88? Why not just shit on Kaiser like you shat on Lung and then force him to abandon the city?"

And oh, how it had burned her to find out that Fortress Construction was Coil's company. She had investigated it before when she was trying to figure out the bastard's identity. Fortress had been the company to start and then 'abandon' the construction of the Endbringer shelter that eventually became his secret base, making it an obvious lead. But it came up clean.

Hearing from Taylor that Coil had kept control of the company through a puppet CEO and some other people to keep his name out of it had been infuriating. Convenient, though, as nobody would be able to realize that the hand holding the strings had changed.

"Because Lung was just a petty street thug." Taylor's voice was full of disdain. "He put on airs of a noble dragon protecting his territory and the people in it, but it was really no different than what you'd get if a bandit managed to become a king. Ultimately, he was a musclehead that thought making the occasional show of force was all he needed. He never even realized that Kaiser has been managing him like an overpowered petulant child."

"Okay, this I've got to hear." Lisa eagerly took a seat. "Lay it on me, oh wise one."

"Eh, this is less wisdom and more simply combining my own observations with Coil's experiments and the PRT's insight." Taylor made a vague gesture with her arm. "Kaiser's strategy is something similar to how a medieval army might siege a city or castle. Allfather was the Nazi cliché, but his son is much more clever. He's still targeting the 'undesirables', but he's keeping the kill count very low and instead just forcing them out of his territory."

Lisa was a smart cookie, so it didn't take her long to connect the dots. "Making the rest of the city more crowded and poverty-ridden, since the Empire likes to ruin businesses."

"A simple, effective, and unethical way of making his territory more orderly and easier to manage." Taylor nodded.

Unethical ways of doing things were frequently the most effective. "To the people benefiting, it looks like a case of 'hard man making hard choices' instead of just him being an asshole, because from their perspective it's working. And then he can act all superior about it and continue pushing outwards, gradually gobbling up more and more territory."

People were selfish. If all they had to do was turn their eyes away from the fact that it was a Nazi organization doing them a favor, they would do it and comfort themselves with the thought that they hadn't done anything themselves. Most people were simply sheep and would let themselves be herded.

"Mmm." Taylor nodded again. "We will, of course, engage in cape fights with the Empire, but the true battle will be in proving that we are better than them, more competent and more ethical. Kaiser had an easy time of it with only Lung and Skidmark as a contrast. Against the Black Hand, his speeches will ring hollow."

Taylor could be so dramatic sometimes. "You're not planning to expose their identities the way Coil was, then?"

"That was a dumb plan." Taylor frowned severely. The expression was a good fit for her outfit. "The initial chaos might be useful, but he didn't seem to consider that the Empire 88 would then be a cornered animal with nothing to lose. Even if the Unwritten Rules are only a thin illusion, they are a useful one and shouldn't be shattered so casually."

"I'm glad we're on the same page." Lisa grinned. She liked that illusion, too. "You got anything for me to do in this master plan of yours?"

"Yes. I'd like you to wander around the disputed territories for a bit and make note of any problems. Small things that would normally slip under the radar. Kaiser is trying to portray the Empire 88 as the champion of a grand principle, but Max Anders was born into wealth and you told me yourself that he's a narcissist. Even if he meant what he was saying, he lacks the perspective of the common man."

Lisa's power told her what Taylor was planning. Instead of the usual flashy moves of cape culture, she was planning to nibble away at the Empire from a thousand different directions, destroy its foundation right under Kaiser's nose, because she had the attention and thinking power to spare on all those tiny little threads.

She hoped that she'd get to see the looks on their faces when they realized it.

XXXXX

April 6th, 2011.

Taylor walked through the doors of Winslow like she owned the place. She didn't, technically, but it was in her newly acquired territory and was thus going to need a serious makeover. No shitty high school was going to be allowed to drag down the area.

It would take more than just a fresh coat of paint, though. The biggest problems were the students and the teachers. The latter were the dregs of the profession, basically sent to Winslow as a form of exile, and the former were…

In dire need of a firm hand.

The students in Arcadia and Immaculata and such might be from better families on average, but the bigger problem was no doubt the fact that they were teenagers that had been allowed far too much leeway.

Taylor decided to start correcting that right away, as she saw that the wannabe Empire punks had gotten bolder since Lung abandoned the city.

As if any of the city's villains had ever mattered in these stupid dick-measuring contests. She hadn't quite realized it back then, but now it was obvious that no cape would have ever come to Winslow to back up any of these idiots, no matter what kind of claims they made. Doing so would have made them a laughingstock in the community, the same as a high schooler coming to settle a fight between kindergartners.

So really, teenage punks using villains as threats was like an even more stupid version of 'my dad could beat up your dad'.

Knowing that pointing that out wouldn't work on these intellectual giants, Taylor walked up to the mouthiest one, hooked her foot behind his, and then gave him push. He crashed to the dirty linoleum floor with an unmanly yelp, no doubt badly bruising his hip.

"Don't you have class to get to?" She asked sharply into the sudden silence. Both the junior Empire punks and the Asians they'd been harassing simply stared at her in shock.

The idiot she'd thrown to the ground got up and got in her face, scowling. "The fuck you think you're doing?"

He tried to punctuate this question by giving her shoulder a shove. It would have been more if she wasn't a girl, but the end result would have been the same.

Taylor grabbed two fingers on the offending hand and twisted painfully, forcing him to either kneel or have them broken. She'd eaten the souls of Coil and Creep, both of which had received extensive hand-to-hand combat training. A clumsy teenager was nothing.

"AAAaaah, fuck!" The guy cursed and looked up with a glare. Then he blinked and squinted. "Fucking Locker Girl?!"

Taylor broke his fingers.

"Oops, my hand slipped." She said blandly, a mocking little smile pulling at her lips "Might want to get that looked at."

"You bitch!" He shrieked, holding the broken digits. "You trying to fuck with the Empire?!"

Indeed she was, but not here. She turned her eyes away from him and looked at the others, enjoying the fear she could smell from everyone who met her gaze. "Get to class."

The 'or else' was clearly implied and they all shuffled off sulkily. Typical wannabe tough guys, their courage broke as soon as someone stood up to them properly.

Rumors would spread about what she'd done and the whole school would know about it before the day was out, but the teachers would remain clueless. The wannabe Empire punk would never admit that he got his fingers broken by a girl.

Taylor doubted they would be the last fingers she had to break. It would take multiple sharp lessons to get through the skulls of the idiots in Winslow, but they'd get there eventually. Most of the teachers would need to be replaced with better ones, something she now had the resources and contacts to begin arranging, but there was no reason why she couldn't start instilling some manners into the students before that happened.

XXXXX

"Taylor, could you stay behind for a second?" Gladly requested hesitantly, not a trace of authority to be heard in his voice.

World Issues had been an amusing class. Madison, sitting right behind her, had been projecting so much delicious terror that it was hard to resist the urge to make it worse. She'd focused more on licking her soul (metaphorically of course) than paying attention to Gladly's inane blathering.

The man thought himself an expert on parahumans and was definitely something of a fanboy. If he ever actually met one, odds were high that he'd annoy them to dangerous levels.

He was certainly annoying her to dangerous levels.

"What?" She demanded.

Gladly balked at her sharp tone. His soul, a wavering reed in the Empyrean, was bowed almost flat from the pressure of the winds billowing passively out of her own soul.

"I just wanted to welcome you back to Winslow." He said and made an attempt at a friendly smile. It looked more like a grimace. "We've been worried about you."

The stupid lie made her blood boil with rage. One of her other bodies channeled it into reality in the form of a ravening stream of crimson lightning. She'd been discovering all sorts of new things recently.

"The only thing you've ever worried about is yourself." She said coldly, enjoying the shocked flinch. "You became a teacher because you were desperate to be popular for once in your life."

Taylor saw the truth of it in his mind, the years of being the awkward guy that everyone laughed at. Instead of trying to move forward, he'd tried to move back and get a re-do of his high school experience. Pathetic.

"H-hey now." Gladly tried clinging to the false authority of his role as a teacher, but all it took to silence him was a glare. She was an inch or two taller than him, and his body was flabby, but that was nothing compared to the difference in potency of spirit.

Taylor didn't bother continuing the conversation, merely turning around and heading for the cafeteria. Gladly would be among the first teachers to go.

Even before she stopped going to school on account of becoming a full time villain, she hadn't been to the cafeteria in nearly six months. She would have definitely returned there eventually after the locker, if only because her anger and pride would not allow her to hide anymore, but gaining her powers had made the windblown roof in winter much preferable.

Her entrance was not noted at first, but the whispers quickly spread and eyes turned towards her. Taylor made a bee-line towards the table where Emma, Madison, and the Brigade of Lesser Bitches was sitting. Their popularity had started recovering since she'd soulbound Emma and stabilized her, not that the others knew who she belonged to. They were also considerably nicer, as the sheep followed their leader's example.

The eyes of the cafeteria were fully on her as she reached the table. Word had spread about 'Locker Girl' coming back and kicking ass.

"Get lost." Taylor ordered, a deliberate insult and flex on her former bullies.

Most of the watchers and even the Brigade of Lesser Bitches expected a confrontation. Julia, the dumb shit, had already been spreading rumors about her becoming some kind of whore while she'd been gone. Ironically, the sheer volume of past rumors saw everyone ignoring this one.

Instead, they saw Emma and Madison meekly scampering away, pulling the confused toadies with them. Emma shot her a longing glance that nobody noticed, and received a soothing rush of affection in turn. This was all part of the plan, and they couldn't be seen associating in school.

Emma would tell her father about what happened in Winslow, and he would talk to the PRT, and the PRT would send a couple of Protectorate heroes to visit her at her Dad's house in a few days once they established that she was living there again, as per standard procedure. That was the contingency plan to make sure it happened, in case the teachers had no orders to report her presence, which they probably did.

Taylor sat down, now having the entire table to herself, and pulled her homemade lunch from her backpack. She didn't eat much anymore, not since spreading herself across multiple bodies. Sleep was also a concern of the past.

Still, she had to at least pretend to be normal.

The whispering around the cafeteria got stronger as everyone tried to figure out what was going on. No matter what ideas they came up with, someone would eventually come to challenge her. Whether it was the Empire brat from before looking to regain some face, someone else thinking that he could raise his reputation by doing what the first one couldn't, some Asians that had no idea she was Psyker and that their families lived in her territory, maybe even some girl, there would be someone. No matter who it was, they would be a stepping stone towards establishing herself as the queen bitch of the school that everyone answered to.

Winslow and its shittiness was a petty concern in the grand scheme of things, and not something she would have wasted time on if she didn't have extra bodies for it. Since she did have extra bodies, it was worth the investment to deal with, on top of serving as a means of establishing contact with the PRT.

But her calculations were slightly off. One variable that she had misjudged acted in a way she didn't expect.

"Taylor, hey!" Greg Veder greeted as he sat at her table without invitation or permission. "I heard that you had some medical issues, it's great that you're finally back. Wow, you look great!"

Greg was a bigger, more oblivious idiot than she had thought.

"Greg, what are you doing here?" She asked, cold and unwelcoming.

"I wanted to say hi. I figured we could catch up over lunch." He replied obliviously.

Now that associating with her no longer carried the risk of being bullied, it went unsaid. Greg's soul carried no malice, but his emotions bled into the Empyrean without restraint and his thoughts spilled out with them. He was attracted to her and hoped they could date now that it was 'safe' for him to do so. To his mind, he was blameless for what happened to her.

Maybe he was, but that didn't make cowardice an attractive trait.

Still, she couldn't really be angry with him. Greg's mind tasted off, not quite in tune with normal human thinking, and his thoughts were too erratic, his emotions too tightly intertwined with them. Combined with all the examples she had of his behavior, it was easy to see that he was neurodivergent. He was selfish and self-absorbed, but it wasn't really his fault.

That didn't mean she wasn't irritated by him, or willing to associate with him.

"Greg, we are not friends." Taylor said mercilessly, seeing the jolt of emotional pain in his soul, far too much pain for something said by a person he'd barely spoken to. "We have never been friends and we will never be friends."

"O-oh." He shrank into himself, looking like he was about to cry. Once upon a time, she might have felt bad about hurting him like this, but she had no interest in coddling him or putting up with his nonsense out of pity or guilt. Besides, it was for the best if he didn't associate with a villain.

After he slunk off, slowly and clearly hoping that she would change her mind, the rest of the lunch break passed without interruption. Nobody approached her. That would change in the following days as they got used to the change in the status quo. Once Winslow got an idea for how she operated, who she helped and who she smacked down, people that she could make use of would start edging closer.

XXXXX

April 9th, 2011.

Hannah and Ethan – otherwise known as Miss Militia and Assault – cautiously approached the Hebert residence, dressed in casual civilian clothes.

When they received reports that Taylor Hebert was once more attending Winslow High and living at home, the decision had been made to approach her like this. Miss Militia didn't have much of a civilian identity anyway and Assault was willing to put his on the line as an olive branch to the young cape.

It was indisputable that the PRT and Protectorate had dropped the ball with Shadow Stalker, and they'd done it twice. Assault, as a former villain himself, had a lot of sympathy for Psyker and was willing to take a risk if it would help bring her into the fold without a fight.

The two of them were also the most easily able to spring into combat from neutral without requiring any gear or build up.

Not that they were doing this without precautions. They didn't have a good idea about the girl's power, so they had gone all out. Velocity was ready to rush in and drop confoam grenades at a moment's notice and Battery could crash through the walls just a bit after that. Dauntless and Triumph had had their patrol routes adjusted to be nearby just in case they needed to call in more backup.

Armsmaster had wanted to be the one confronting Taylor, but had been overruled by Director Piggot on the matter. Instead, he was hidden in a nearby van with his bike, watching the video feed from the tiny tinkertech cameras she and Assault were wearing, ready to come charging in if a fight broke out and looked like they needed the help.

It seemed a bit excessive to Hannah, who was not really expecting a fight. They were posing as PRT agents come to talk to a new cape, assure her that Shadow Stalker was not the norm for Wards, and try to convince her to give up on villainy before things got any more out of hand.

Even if they were refused, they had orders to not start a fight here. It would be a bad look and escalate the situation further.

Their knock on the door was quickly answered by the girl they were here to see.

Taylor Hebert looked very different than the most recent pictures of her. Stronger, fitter, more confident.

Hannah stiffened under the teenager's intense eyes. Her instincts screamed of danger and she was barely able to keep her power from turning the small pistol hidden in her jacket into something bigger.

"Oh my, Miss Militia and Assault, what an honor." The girl said mockingly before they could give any fake names. "Come on in, said the spider to the fly."

Hannah had frozen in place as all their plans got derailed at the first step. Psyker already knew who they were and had clearly been expecting them. That she was comfortable enough to turn her back on them was only further unnerving.

"You can bring in the others, too, if you want. Or you can keep them at a distance if it makes you more comfortable." Taylor's tossed back at them, still slowly retreating deeper into the house.

Hannah shared an unnerved look with Ethan before cautiously following behind the young villain.

"Can I get you something? Tea? Coffee? Beer?" The teenager offered with jarring politeness.

"Feels like I need something stronger." Assault muttered under his breath, then shot the girl a strained grin. "I wouldn't mind a cup of coffee."

"Tea for me, thank you." Hannah said, doing her best not to show how out of sorts she was.

"Ah, a fellow woman of culture." Taylor smiled brightly, far too brightly to be genuine. "I knew there was a reason you were my favorite local hero. Please sit while I get the tea and coffee."

Hannah frowned. There had been something in the back of her words there…

"Is it just me, or did that almost sound like flirting?" Assault whispered to her as he took the offered seat.

It did, but that was absurd. The psychological profile they'd built of Taylor Hebert would have to be completely wrong for that to be possible. Then again, nothing so far had gone as they'd expected.

Taylor came back and set a tray laden with two pots and three cups. That the drinks were already prepared was another point in favor of the theory that she had been expecting them.

"So, what can I do for you illustrious defenders of justice?" The teenage villain asked with another mocking lilt, sitting in an armchair like it was a throne.

"Ms. Hebert, or do you prefer Psyker?" Hannah started, pushing aside her unease with this entire situation. Still, being recognized did allow them to skip a lot of dancing around the subject.

"Either one is fine, Hana." The teenage villain smiled, using the proper Kurdish pronunciation of her name instead of the Americanized version she had long since adopted.

The implications of that were very bad. That she was a Kurdish immigrant/refugee was not a particularly important bit of information, but it was an obscure one. If Psyker knew that, then she likely knew a great deal more.

"Well, shit." Ethan gusted out, slumping in his seat. He grasped the implications just as well as she did. "Piggot is going to flip."

Yes, she would.

"What is your source?" Hannah didn't think she would get an answer, but she had to ask.

"Well I am a Thinker." Taylor hummed in response. "But more importantly, the PRT is currently missing a consultant and reserve field commander, one Thomas Calvert."

The surprise of actually getting an answer was quickly replaced by a flood of ice in her veins. "Did you do something to him?"

"We had a villain's disagreement. He was coiling his way into my business and had to be removed."

The hint was as unsubtle as it was devastating. "Calvert was Coil?"

"Oh yes, quite the sneaky snakey snake, as one of my minions put it. Hoarded information like a squirrel hoards nuts."

This meeting had spiraled way out of control. No, they'd never had any control to begin with. Psyker had been expecting them and was leading them around by the nose, dropping hints and subtle threats.

"Is he still alive?"

Psyker's smile didn't reach her cold eyes. "No."

"We could take you in for that." Assault said, but in a tone that made it sound more like a suggestion than a threat.

Psyker was not intimidated. She drained the last of her tea and put the cup on the coffee table with a gently clink. Then she leaned back with her legs crossed, back straight, and fingers steepled in her lap. Not a combative posture, but a supremely confident one.

Her brown eyes flashed blue with a contained lightning storm. The air grew heavy, Hannah saw her breath mist in front of her face, and the light level of the room dimmed.

"You could try."

What was this? Hannah was no stranger to parahuman theatrics and posturing, but this felt different on a fundamental level. There was an itch in the back of her brain and her power started flickering between weapons as it always did when she was nervous.

"We're not alone." Assault warned, as on edge as she was.

"Velocity, your wife Battery, Armsmaster. Even Dauntless and Triumph a few minutes away. The whole Brockton Bay Protectorate just for me? I'm flattered." Psyker still didn't look concerned.

"This doesn't have to get violent, Ms. Hebert." Hannah tried. Their orders were still to only talk and gather information. The odds of convincing the teenage cape to become a probationary Ward seemed negligible at this point, but a cape fight in civies in a suburban neighborhood would be the worst possible outcome.

"I wasn't the one making threats." Psyker pointed out with a small smirk, still ice cold. The girl was incredibly hard to read.

But what she said was true. Apart from being extremely unnerving and implying that she had some very dangerous information in her possession, Psyker had not made any threats.

"Right, fair enough." Assault said with a forced chuckle. "So why did you set this all up? You were obviously expecting us."

"I'd like to come to an arrangement with the PRT and Protectorate." Psyker replied. "Heroes and villains may be enemies on paper, but we all know that reality is more complicated than that. Unlike Lung or Kaiser, my organization is not ideologically hostile to any particular group of people or inhumane in its treatment of vulnerable civilians."

"You want us to support you against the Empire on the sly." Assault deduced with a tone of voice hovering between incredulous and impressed.

"And against anyone attempting to move on Brockton Bay in the future." Psyker inclined her head in confirmation. "We can continue to have 'play fights' between our capes to keep the oblivious general population from grumbling about how useless you are. We can even work out a deal to get your Wards some 'field experience', if you wish. My people have strict orders to keep the kiddie gloves on with them."

Hannah could barely believe the audacity of the girl. "Your 'Black Hand' is still a criminal organization."

"And?" Psyker raised an eyebrow as if that was irrelevant. "Since when does the PRT shy away from working with criminals?"

"Only after they make a plea deal and stop being criminals."

The mixed look of pity and disappointment Psyker gave her was the most insulting thing Hannah had ever experienced, and she had experienced Mouse Protector as a teenager. "That only works if you can force them to knuckle under. Isn't that right, Madcap?"

Ethan, who had once been the villain Madcap, mildly notorious for his antics of breaking captured villains out of Birdcage transports as a form of protest against the cape prison, grimaced. He had done something close to begging to become a hero instead of going to the Birdcage himself. "Yeah, that's right, but you won't be able to keep this up forever."

"I'll be sure to keep my crimes out of the public eye so that the PRT can conscript me without upsetting people, just in case you're right." Psyker's tone tilted towards mocking again. "You should go talk to Director Piggot now, analyze this interaction, and come back with a more informed strategy. And I would appreciate your continued consideration in staying away from my father – he's not going to be a useful lever to influence me and I would prefer you not draw attention to him."

XXXXX

Director Piggot's office.

"She knows our protocols." Emily concluded unhappily after watching the video of Miss Militia and Assault's talk with Taylor Hebert, Psyker, for the third time. "And a lot more than that."

"That was our conclusion as well." Miss Militia briefly grimaced. "She must have squeezed Calvert for everything he knew."

Emily was not the slightest bit upset that Calvert was dead. She'd known he was scum when he bragged about fragging his CO just so he could escape from Ellisburg slightly faster. If it wasn't for the fact that the higher ups continually refused to send her reinforcements, she would have long since gotten rid of him.

As it turns out, she apparently should have done it regardless. Where he could have triggered if Ellisburg hadn't done the trick, she had no idea, but the bastard had played them all for fools.

"Renick, have you been able to confirm Psyker's allegations?"

"Not yet, but it's definitely a possibility." Her deputy director had a deep frown on his face. "A lot of his past orders and reports deflected attention away from Coil in hindsight."

Fuck.

"We're going to have to sweep our organization from top to bottom." Not just the buildings, but the personnel, too. It was going to be a nightmare.

"I could ask Dragon for help." Armasmaster offered.

The fact that he was offering to ask for help was indication enough of how horribly tedious and time consuming it was going to be.

"Do it." Emily ordered. "Now, what do we have on Psyker?"

"I don't get why she told us about Calvert." Assault opined. "We had nothing pointing at her. If she really did get her hands on any of his resources, then keeping it quiet and using them herself would have made more sense."

It was a good point. A good point that Emily hated. Thinkers and their fucking games.

"A gesture of good faith to support her proposal?" Miss Militia suggested dubiously.

"She had to know that we would never accept any proposal like that." Emily disagreed.

Yes, the PRT and Protectorate sometimes tacitly cooperated with villains, but the only open cooperation was during Endbringer battles. Coming to an arrangement the likes of which Psyker had suggested was tantamount to admitting defeat and letting the villain have free run of the city. If they accepted, then it would be handing a villain leverage over them.

More to the point, there were specific protocols against cooperating with Thinkers and Masters in particular, protocols which Hebert had to know about since she had already made a show of knowing so much.

Psyker was either delusional or playing yet more games.

"What was your impression of her?" She asked.

"Confident." Assault said immediately. "I've never met a cape that sure of themselves. We had her surrounded and outnumbered, but she was completely convinced that we couldn't do anything to her."

Psyker's powers were still not well known. Fighting capes with unknown powers was always a risky proposition. Fighting a Thinker that had time to set the stage was just plain stupid.

"My lie detector program doesn't work on her." Armsmaster said with a scowl. "Her body language and microexpressions aren't in sync with her words and it keeps giving me nonsensical readings."

"There's definitely something uncanny about her." Miss Militia added with a frown of her own. "Beyond the fact that she just doesn't act like a teenager, she had some kind of presence. It doesn't come across on the video, but she feels like so much more in person."

"That might be how she's getting people to fall in line." Emily theorized. Some kind of subtle Master power that made her seem more imposing and charismatic. God knew that it didn't take much to get disaffected people swept up in a narrative. Everyone from conquerors to con artists had been doing it for thousands of years.

"She's a villainous potential human Master going to school with hundreds of other children that she has cause to hold a grudge against." Armsmaster pointed out, as if she wasn't already aware.

The reports on that were unclear. There didn't seem to be any overt Master influence at play. Hebert had triggered at the start of January and spent another month going to Winslow with people that she surely hated. Their investigations didn't really bring up any noteworthy red flags.

Well, they did, so many fucking red flags, but those were all to do with how bad of a school Winslow was, rather than parahuman influence. Aside from a suddenly more violent and aggressive disposition, which was a common symptom for abused children gaining powers, Hebert's time in Winslow raised no real concern.

Common sense would say that a fifteen-year-old girl would not have had the restraint to resist using her powers on her bullies as soon as she got them. Common sense would also say that a fifteen-year-old girl could not run Lung out of town.

"We'll slip an observer into the school." She finally decided. "We already agreed that this theoretical Master power can't be very strong or overt, if it even exists. Worst case scenario, it's something that works over a long time or under specific conditions and we arrest her as soon as we confirm that she's using it. Best case, she just wants to reclaim her civilian identity and will be spending half her day in school instead of being a villain."

XXXXX

April 10th, 2011.

Emma was giddy with anticipation. Finally, she was going to be with Taylor again. These past few days since the dark haired girl had come to school had been torture.

She wanted to sit next to her in class, hold her hand as they walked down the halls, and giggle over something together in the cafeteria during lunch. It sucked that they couldn't do that.

Emma understood why – it would be too suspicious. She didn't want to cause trouble for Taylor, so she played her part. She told her father about Taylor coming back to school, and he predictably snitched to the PRT.

Now she was finally going to be rewarded.

Taylor came to pick her up herself, which made her insides go gooey with affection. She could have sent a minion, but she came personally instead. Emma couldn't resist the urge to lean over and give Taylor a kiss as soon as she sat down in the passenger seat.

"I missed you." She said with feeling.

"But you see me in your dreams practically every night." Taylor pointed out, patting her on the thigh.

"It's not the same." Emma pouted.

"I could stop…"

"No! Please don't!"

"Alright, I'm just teasing you." Taylor huffed in amusement.

"That was mean." Emma calmed down her racing heart. "I've been working so hard to be better for you…"

And she had! She'd been nicer to people, she'd been studying hard so that she could get to a good school and be a better minion, she'd even been working out so that she would be fitter and prettier.

"I know, I saw." Taylor nodded. "You've been doing good work, Emma. I'm proud of you."

All the fear and hurt was immediately washed away by the sheer bliss of those words. She could die happy.

"Come on now, don't cry. You'll mess up your makeup." Taylor joked.

"Right, sorry." Emma smiled tremulously and dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief. "Are we going north? I thought your lair was in the south of the city?"

Taylor fortunately went along with the change of subject. "I had to relocate after driving Lung off."

"Do you still live with Sherrel?" The busty former Merchant Tinker seemed like an okay roommate. Emma often wondered if Taylor was having sex with her, too, and if she would be expected to join in.

She wouldn't mind if the answer was yes. Anything for Taylor.

"No, but we are heading over to her garage at the moment." Taylor replied. "The costumes you helped design came in. I figured you'd want to see them worn."

"I would!" Emma practically bounced in her seat eagerly. She'd put a lot of effort into the costumes, working with Taylor during her dream visitations. She couldn't wait to see how they turned out.

A few minutes later, they turned into the garage, where a familiar blond was working on a obviously tinkertech motorcycle. To Emma's surprise, however, she wasn't alone. A gangly black teenager was working with her. Behind them was some kind of tinkertech road roller. What was that supposed to be for?

"Boss Lady!" Sherrel called out with a wave. "And Red! What brings you by."

"Sherrel, Trevor." Taylor greeted with a nod. "Emma, Trevor is one of my new recruits, otherwise known as Chariot. Trevor, this is Emma."

"Umm…" The black teenager, Trevor, looked between them uncertainly.

"Don't worry about Red, she belongs to the boss." Sherrel said.

Emma flushed happily at that. Yes, she belonged to Taylor. That was how it should be.

"We come bearing gifts." Taylor said, popping open the trunk and hauling out a large-ish, unremarkable box that Emma knew contained the Tinker's new costume. Several sets of them. "Your costume."

"Aww hell yeah!" Sherrel cheered, reaching out to take it.

"Wash your hands first." Taylor said sternly, pointedly looking at the grease-stained appendages.

Sherrel looked at them as if only just now realizing how filthy they were. "Good point. And it'll give me time to get my own present for you."

"Oh, that." Taylor's voice was exasperated.

"Don't act like you know what it is!" Sherrel called back indignantly.

"I can guess." Taylor retorted.

Sherrel didn't reply, leaving them alone with Trevor.

"So, how have you been settling in? Has Sherrel been taking good care of you?" Taylor asked the boy.

His skin was too dark for a blush to be noticeable, but Emma knew embarrassment when she saw it. She had no doubt that his face was burning. "Uh, yeah."

That was all she needed to guess what kind of relationship the two Tinkers had. Emma had to smile, because it meant that she wouldn't have to share Taylor. Of course, she wouldn't mind if she had to, but not having to was even better.

"It's been great working with her." Trevor was still saying, getting more animated. "The main reason I didn't want to join the Wards was because I heard that Protectorate Tinkers had to present everything for approval before they're allowed to build it."

"As long as you don't try to blow up the moon or create another army of killer robots, then I'll be happy to keep funding you." Taylor said. "I'm very much looking forward to seeing your motorcycles in action."

"They're going to be amazing, but they'd be even better if we could get our hands on Kid Win's anti-gravity board. Sherrel and I are sure we could use it to figure out the tech for our own use." Trevor's tone had a distinctly covetous inflection to it.

"It's already planned." Taylor assured him. "The next time he goes out on patrol, I'll send people to snatch it."

Any further conversation was cut off as Sherrel came back.

"Alright, I'm back and my hands are all clean. Now gimme!" The Tinker demanded, going for the boxes.

This time, Taylor didn't stop her.

"Ohoho, that's what I'm talking about." Sherrel cackled, pulling out the full bodysuit and burying her face in it to take a deep whiff. "I love that smell! Junior, go get my helmet."

After giving that order, the blond just pulled her clothes off right there, apparently having zero shame. She already wasn't wearing much, so it didn't take long.

Emma wasn't sure if she should be envious of the older woman's confidence or scandalized. She was definitely envious of the humongous breasts and thick thighs and the attention Taylor was giving them. It hadn't been that long since she'd last seen Sherrel, but the former drug addict was now looking really good.

The Tinker awkwardly and with some help squeezed herself into the skintight bodysuit. Since she had helped design it, Emma knew that it was made out of some kind of polymer with a stupidly complicated name, thicker than spandex and not as shiny. It was bulletproof against small arms fire and pretty tough, but it wasn't really armor.

The zipper barely fit over Sherrel's breasts, and she deliberately left it open enough to display a vast amount of cleavage. A pair of tight boots with the same coloring completed the outfit.

"Fuck, I'm so hot." The blonde declared, running her hands down her boobs, sides and legs. The bodysuit was mostly black, with red-orange flames running upwards. It looked like a sexualized racing suit, just as intended. "You've really outdone yourself with this one, Boss Lady, but now I regret not picking Hot Rod as my cape name. Is it too late to change it?"

Trevor came back with a similarly painted racing helmet. Emma couldn't tell if it was tinkertech or not, but she assumed it was.

"I suppose you could change your name again if you really wanted to, but you'd get mocked for being so indecisive." Taylor replied drily. "Besides, Gearshift works fine with this outfit too."

"I guess." Sherrel pouted. "Your costume arrived, too, right? Let's see it!"

"Sure." Taylor agreed, telekinetically lifting the box with her costumes in it. "Emma, come. You're helping me put it on."

"Okay!" Emma perked up happily. She couldn't wait to see Taylor in the cool outfit they created together!

"Trevor, get my helmet." Taylor ordered, sending the junior Tinker scampering off again.

They went into what looked like a storage room and Taylor quickly stripped off her clothes, leaving her in nothing but a silk thong and a spandex sports bra.

"You're so beautiful." Emma murmured, reaching out to touch.

"Easy." Taylor grabbed her fingers. "Costume now, fun later."

"Sorry." Emma's face burned with embarrassment and she decided to focus on her job.

First came the bodysuit, made of the same materials as the one Sherrel got, but with a very different cut and design. It was still skintight, which was something that Emma had insisted on, but it wasn't blatantly sexualized like Sherrel's.

It was black with minor gold accenting. The chest piece was slightly padded to emphasize Taylor's feminine contours… and to make it look like her boobs were slightly bigger. Beautiful as her friend/lover was, she really didn't have a lot to work with there.

Over the bodysuit was an open long coat that went down to her ankles and flared dramatically. Like the bodysuit, it was black with gold accenting along the hem, and the inner lining was a royal purple. It had a high collar and a deep hood to make it look more mystical.

Much better than Myrddin's dinky brown robe.

Completing the look were a pair of knee-high boots, also black and gold. They had a small, two-inch heel, that had taken some convincing to get Taylor to agree to. The brunette had been concerned about the impracticality of it and would have preferred a flat heel, but Emma had argued that she should never be seen running in her villain persona anyway, because running was for people who weren't in control of things, and that the imposing tock-tock of the heels striking the ground would be more than worth it. They were low and wide enough to not be a huge balancing hazard anyway.

"You look magnificent." Emma breathed, staring at the full effect.

"It really did come out good, didn't it?" Taylor rotated her waist to look at herself, sounding pleased. "Even the heels aren't too bad."

"I told you." The redhead allowed herself to feel smug. "Try doing that heel click thing I was telling you about."

"Like this?" Taylor asked bemusedly and took a step forward, making sure that the heel of her boot made a loud, echoing click as she put her foot down.

"Almost." Emma said encouragingly. "You have to end the motion in the proper pose, like being the center of attention is your rightful due."

She'd been trying to figure out how to do this for over six months, but she just didn't have the presence for it. But Taylor did.

"You know that the woman you're copying this from was using the modeling studio's acoustics to pull this off, right?" Taylor arched and eyebrow. "It's not going to work everywhere."

"Couldn't you use your powers for it?" Emma evaded. Taylor's powers were bullshit and seemed to be getting more so over time. "Like, use your telekinesis to carry the sound or something?"

"… Maybe." The brunette replied thoughtfully. "Alright, let me try this again, since you think it's so impressive."

Taylor went back into a neutral stance and took a step forward. Her stride this time was much more imposing and the heel click firmer. More to the point, Emma felt the sound ring in her head like a gong, making it feel like it was the most important thing happening at that moment.

Well, it had already felt like that, but Taylor had obviously used her psychic powers to really emphasize it.

"That was perfect!" Emma cheered. In fact, it was even better than what that bitchy middle-aged fashion designer kept doing whenever she wanted someone to pay attention to her.

"Glad you like it." Taylor's lips curved into an amused smile. "I have to admit, this is less silly than it sounded like when you first proposed it."

"I put a lot of effort into thinking of ways to make you a more badass villain." Emma puffed her chest out with pride at the phrase. She was so happy that all the work paid off.

"And I appreciate it." Taylor came forward to put a hand on the small of her back. "Come on, let's get the final piece of the costume."

"Is Trevor, Chariot, good at making helmets?" She asked curiously.

"His specialization is in personal transportation devices. He won't be able to compete with Armsmaster for utility, but he can at least make something that looks good." She replied, using her power to rapidly twist her hair into a braid.

That turned out to be true. The helmet Chariot made for Taylor had the basic shape of a crusader helmet according to him, but made of a durable plastic, with comfortable foam padding on the inside, a darkened glass visor and an obviously more high tech grill over the mouth. It had the same black-and-gold coloring and a small gap in the back that allowed Taylor's braided hair dangle out.

The full effect was quite imposing, but Emma was more eager to peel Taylor back out of it.

"God damn, Bossy Lady." Sherrel whistled when they stepped back into the main garage area. "You look ready to kick ass."

"And it seems I am being given the opportunity." Taylor said, fully in villain mode. "Glory Girl has decided to pick a fight with Lodestone."

"Want me to give you a ride on one of the bikes?" Sherrel offered eagerly.

"Wait, how do you know that?" Trevor asked, confused.

"No need." Taylor dismissed, ignoring the question. "Take Emma to the safehouse on Parkside Avenue. I still need to reward her for all the work she put into designing our costumes."

"It won't be a reward without you there." Emma pouted.

"Who says I won't be?" Taylor countered. "Go with Sherrel."

Not saying anything more, she straddled one of the tinkertech bikes and roared out of the garage as if she'd been riding motorcycles for years.

Emma found herself back in the passenger seat of Taylor's car, with a featureless black box in her lap that Sherrel insisted she take.

Opening it up, she blushed to the roots of her hair when she saw that it contained a collection of gags, blindfolds, collars, leashes, cuffs, clamps, and chains. "Oh."

Sherrel started cackling, clearly finding her reaction extremely funny. "Taytay likes being in control and you do everything she tells you to, so I figured it was appropriate."

Well, it could be fun? If Taylor was into this kind of thing, Emma would be happy to play along.

XXXXX

Taylor raced down the streets on the tinkertech motorcycle. She'd never been on even a regular motorcycle before, but she had the memories of it and this tinkertech version was both faster and more stable. Quite a joy to ride really.

The length of her costume's flaring coat might have been a problem, but she was able to use her telekinesis to keep it out of the way. It was still daytime, so she had to weave between cars and left a trail frightened people behind her.

She could feel them, making tiny ripples in the Empyrean with their emotions. Her sensitivity to such things had increased considerably since using Noelle to spit out more of herself, each one a window into the material world.

Taylor still wasn't sure of the order of things. Did the material world shape the Empyrean or the other way around? Were humans beings of spirit trapped in flesh, or were they beings of flesh projecting their souls into the realm of spirit?

The only thing she knew for certain was that her own soul had enough strength to no longer need a body to continue existing. She was sure that even if all of her bodies were destroyed, she would still retain her sense of self. The Empyrean was vast, but tranquil. She could float upon its gentle tides forever.

Not that she intended to allow that to happen. If all her bodies were destroyed, then she would no longer be able to affect the world. If her bodies were open windows, then the people she was connected to were closed ones. Whatever it was that made her different from others, her bodies were a gateway between the Empyrean and the material world. If all the gateways were destroyed, then she would no longer be able to reach through the veil.

Unless the source of parahuman powers managed to find a way to breach it. Taylor thought that she could feel it sometimes, something like countless eyes looking at her from above, below, within, without, and all manner of other directions and dimensions. Such cold and alien desire, she had felt it looking at her through Panacea's touch, Tattletale's eyes, and maybe even from further away.

Amy had been desperately resisting the urge to contact her again, but that resistance would break soon. Taylor was going to give her a reason to break by teaching Glory Girl a little lesson about making unprovoked attacks on her people.

New Wave's excessively photogenic Brute didn't really have any set patrol patterns, she just flew around looking for trouble whenever the urge struck her. This time, she had come upon Larry tearing down a building – the same building whose wall he ripped out during their first raid on the ABB as it happened – because it was a safety hazard.

Technically a crime since the city had not sanctioned the demolition, but it was part of her plans to revitalize the section of town Lung had been content to allow to fall into decay. Glory Girl hadn't bothered to properly assess the situation, she just saw a villain tearing down a building and jumped in.

Really living up to her reputation for impulsiveness.

Taylor sent Oni Lee to run interference and make sure flying brick didn't hurt anyone too badly. For all her power, Glory Girl was a very one-dimensional combatant and quite predictable. Her aura did terrify Larry into hiding under the rubble of the building he'd been destroying, but it didn't work on Oni Lee.

It only took her a few minutes to reach the spot. She could have arrived faster if she used one of her closer bodies, but it was too good of an opportunity to debut her new costume.

Nobody paid attention to her as she stopped the bike and sat on it, just watching Glory Girl play superpowered tag with Oni Lee's clones for a moment. It was time to draw attention.

Swinging her leg over the side of the bike (making sure that the cool coat flared dramatically, Taylor employed the little trick that Emma had been so curiously insistent that she learn. With a deliberately loud heel click against the asphalt, she set off the equivalent of a psychic ping in the minds of everyone nearby, a ping that sounded a lot like said heel click echoing in a vast, empty room.

Instantly, everyone stopped and looked towards her.

Huh, maybe Emma had been on to something. Being able to command everyone's attention with such a seemingly small thing was pretty empowering.

"Glory Girl." She began, lacing her tone with disapproval. "Why are you bothering my people?"

The flying blonde looked at her like she was slow, and spoke like it as well. "Because you're villains and criminals?"

Taylor was literally able to hear the unspoken 'duh', that's how loud it was.

"Last chance to walk away from this before you get hurt." A chance she wouldn't take.

"Oh yeah?" Glory Girl smirked. "Someone's feeling brave now that they've got a fancy new costume."

To be accused of overconfidence by Glory Girl of all capes.

Taylor had already been testing things with her telekinesis the whole time. The flying blonde was encased in some kind of skintight force field that made grabbing her nigh impossible, which fit with her reported invincibility. It was probably also the source of her other powers.

To test that theory out, she grabbed one of the bricks from the destroyed building and smashed it against the side of her head. Glory Girl demonstrated poor situational awareness and never noticed it coming.

Yelping, the flying blonde juked sideways, apparently still able to fly, but Taylor felt the force field flicker off. Interesting.

"I'm not the one who picked a fight she couldn't win." She retorted, feeling the force field come back and repulse her telekinetic touch as she did so.

"We'll see about that!" Glory Girl was obviously pissed and dived forward. Her mind was brimming with self-righteous hostility.

And she was coming in at what was definitely an unsafe speed. A collision with a powerful Brute at that speed could easily be fatal… and she had no intention of slowing down or 'missing'. How the hell had Glory Girl not killed anyone with this kind of attitude?

Taylor telekinetically moved herself aside at the last moment, using her flaring coat like a matador's cape. Glory Girl plowed into the road like the proverbial unstoppable force.

Between her, Lung, and Hookwolf, no wonder the roads in Brockton Bay were such a mess. The other heavy hitters on either side of the law at least tried to keep the collateral down.

Curiously, the impact also broke Glory Girl's force field. Did she even realize how vulnerable she was? Taylor could taste no hint of fear in the blonde's thoughts, so it was doubtful.

"This is for your own good." She said dispassionately, rocketing another loose brick into the side of the other girl's head just as she turned around and her force field came back.

At the same time, she caught the pepper spray that Oni Lee tossed towards her and unloaded it right into Glory Girl's face without hesitation.

With no force field to protect her, the capsaicin spray reached its target, and Glory Girl shrieked in pain as her eyes and mucus membranes burned. Finally there was fear, and the Alexandria package shot straight up into the air before flying drunkenly back in the approximate direction of the Dallon house.

Taylor twirled Glory Girl's tiara in her gloved fingers, having snatched the silly ornament just before the force field came back. A fine trophy to put next to Cricket's kama.

"I wonder how pissed Amy will be about this?"

A lot, hopefully. There were so many ways that an angry hero could be made to cross the line.

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