Work Book 2

The map file led us to a storefront in the downtown district. Marquis' territory. The storefront itself was that of a pet store, but it had been abandoned three weeks ago. Apparently the store had closed to move to another location, one which had yet to open.

My working theory was that it was one of Marquis' business fronts, or at the very least paying protection money to him. Then sudden portal in the back, Marquis gets wind of it, they take the goods out and encourage the owners to move, in case of more interesting things dropping in place. After all, phones with advanced technology could probably be bartered to Tinkers and Toybox, and if something like a weapon dropped in, it could change the balance of power in the city. If Marquis had gotten his hands on, say, Mister Freeze's cold guns, that would be quite problematic.

Still, the abandonment made things easier. An abandoned property was much easier to secure, both in the short term and long term. We'd need a judge to sign off on seizing the property on a long-term basis, but the possibility of radiation or biological hazards coming from a portal overrode the more mundane concerns.

So Armsmaster and I stood looking at a nice spherical cut through the floor and part of a wall, large enough to fit a fair bit.

"What do you think?" I asked.

Armsmaster frowned. "Looks like a seven foot diameter. Large enough to send a person, or a rather good amount of cargo. Someone taller could fit if they crouched, but not much larger than that. The edges of the spherical section look to be cut on the molecular scale. Impossibly smooth." He took a moment to look at me. "Do you recall anything about your own entry onto Earth Bet?"

I shook my head. "A lot of pain. Arriving buck naked." I took a closer look at the section of carved out concrete floor. "I do remember waking up in a crater, and it could have looked like this. It was half-filled with snow when I awoke though, and by now it's probably buried. I know the area it was in, but the crater itself is going to be hard to find. It wouldn't help that the area's currently enjoying the long night. At the time I was more concerned with not freezing to death."

He nodded at that. "That would make things rather difficult."

"The freezing part or the finding it part?"

His lip twitched. "Yes."

I chuckled and shook my head. "Anyway... nothing on the Geiger counter, huh?"

Armsmaster shook his head. "Only the expected amount of background radiation. We'll still need to check things out for biological concerns, but radiation doesn't seem to be a problem."

I nodded. "Small blessings, at least." It didn't keep me from looking wistfully at the carved-out section of wall and floor.

Of course it wouldn't be that easy.

-----------

"So we don't have a permanent portal. Small mercies." Travers spoke.

Armsmaster nodded. "It is frustrating, but likely for the best when it comes to preventing more problems. That being said the lack of data is making it difficult to predict these portals. We still don't know what's causing these events."

Velocity's voice was thoughtful. "Maybe something going on the other side?" He looked at me. "Any ideas?"

I let out a wry laugh. "It'd be faster to list what might not be causing this. Alien invasion, a temporal war, the gods of Olympus throwing a hissy fit, Lantern batteries breaking down, a baking soda volcano by a really ambitious eight year old..." I took a moment to rub my forehead. "My world is different from this one. It's filled with utter insanity that I've just gotten used to. That everyone's used to. I just wish I could remember how the hell I got here because then I'd have some clue."

Challenger sounded a bit amused. "Things went nuts when Scion showed up here, too. You haven't got a monopoly on insanity. Within ten miles of here we've got a Mad Max wannabe who can't die, in Europe there's three insane witches, and some fast-talker managed to convince the most dangerous parahuman on Earth to walk into the Birdcage by asking nicely."

I let out a snort. "You know, that's a good point."

Travers nodded. "We're going to handle what we can. We'll have to set a monitoring station up there... that might be problematic. We're going to get people wanting to see what's going on, but we can't let members of the public just wander in if there is something there. That means taking up a team on a nearly-permanent basis, at least until we're fairly sure it's safe."

"Building owners won't be happy." Challenger noted.

Travers shrugged. "That's their problem. I'm just happy we got some phones and not a goddamned technoplague. We'll need to send this to the Think Tank, get the input of someone with more knowledge about interdimensional events. Unfortunately the only expert we know on that topic is Professor Haywire, and he's rather hard to get in contact with. Not to mention it's very unlikely he'll be cooperative." He took a moment to open a file folder in front of him. "On another note, our interrogations and investigations have borne some fruit." He passed out photos of a mousy young brunette woman. "Meet Kayden Russel, also known as Purity. Rumor is she is, or rather was a student at Brockton College. Also rumor is Miss Russel had a rather whirlwind romance going on with Max Anders."

I blinked. "Anders... Richard Anders was there at the Dockworkers."

Travers nodded. "Max is Richard's son. Right now we're attempting to track down where Max is. The apparent story is that Max Anders is currently vacationing in South America. We have flight records, but little more than that. We'd like to talk to him and get some more information. If we can link Miss Russel with other possible members of the Empire, we might be able to be more prepared for the next time they make a move."

Armsmaster grimaced. "We're going to have some difficulty. We still haven't managed to dig into who might be feeding the Empire information."

Challenger snorted. "We know it ain't Deputy Director Lawson."

I lifted an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

Nighthawk spoke quietly. "Because she's currently on leave, recovering after a nearly fatal accident with her central heating. She was pushing for more pressure on the Empire, and two weeks later her house fills with carbon monoxide. She got out in time, her CO detectors went off, but if it was Geist as we suspect, he could have shut those down too. For some reason nobody wants to fill the office, however temporarily, after that."

Travers nodded slowly. "We've been having trouble getting new troopers, or Protectorate members, in with the dangers here. If not the Butcher, the Empire. If anything it's the Marche who are the least dangerous, but they're still a problem."

I sighed. Maybe this place wasn't that far off of Gotham, after all.

-----------

The next week saw me floating over a parcel of land. It was outside of Brockton by twenty miles, covered in snow, but from here was a nice view of the city. There was a forest below me, but the section I had my eyes on was flattened section of rock carved into part of the rather gentle, worn mountainside. It wasn't very large, nor could I build something very elaborate here. Not without carving into the mountain itself.

Which I could do, of course, just it probably wouldn't be worth it. That being said, the area appealed. A road would have to be carved to get the materials here, at least if I wanted to have someone else build a cabin for me... which I probably would want to do. I'm no expert at house-building, even if I could take shortcuts. I wasn't about to say 'How hard can it be?' and find myself digging my home out of a bog of quicksand or something. At the very least I can make it a lot easier for someone who actually knows what they're doing to build something decent.

Though a secret hero-cave does kind of appeal. Options for later.

Mental checkmark made, I nodded with a smile. This area would do very nicely. I'd have to make some calls.

----------

The city was fairly quiet the week after that. I suppose nobody wanted to pick a fight, whatever their grievances, when there was a chance I might show up. In the middle of patrol, Challenger and I were taking a break, giving waves and smiles to those who noticed us.

It was nice that, for once, people looked at me without as much fear. Back home I was a bit overshadowed by the League, by the reputations of the originals. Here I had fewer expectations, and it was both welcome and disconcerting. Unfamiliar territory always was, I guess.

"All quiet on the western front." Challenger said with some cheer, drinking from a cup of coffee.

"That is a good book." I nodded with a smile.

Challenger blinked. "It is? I thought it was just a saying. Also, we're on the west side of the city, so it fit."

I chuckled. "I'll see if I can find a copy here. Though it may not be the same, considering the differences in history from back home."

Challenger grinned. "You're such a nerd. It's kinda endearing."

I laughed at that. "Back there I'm considered something of a meathead, actually."

Challenger let out a sharp laugh. "If you're a meathead, I'd hate to see what you consider a nerd!"

I shot her a grin. "Keep in mind I ran with heroes. The nerds I know could beat up a whole group of linebackers while giving a lecture on astrophysics."

"I might have not fallen asleep in science class if that was the typical lesson." She snickered. Then she finished off her coffee, slipped her helmet back on, and hopped back on her motorcycle.

I hit my comm and lifted into the air, following above her. "Please don't drive straight through traffic again."

"Don't worry about me. I only do that during an emergency. Speaking of riding, though, do you have your course set?" Challenger smoothly pulled into traffic, being the picture-perfect sight of a model motorcycle rider... at least for the moment. The roads were busier than previously, but not so much that you couldn't get around in good time.

I kept looking around, both for troublesome events and to make sure I wouldn't plow into a window. "Signed up for driving and motorcycle lessons. Also bought a piece of land outside of the city. Thinking about plunking a trailer down there while a contractor builds an actual permanent house. More like a cottage, but it'll be mine at least."

"Still think you're missing out on the mansion thing, but you do you." Challenger brought her bike down a sidestreet, heading for the northern end of the city. "It's not as if you're lacking in options, though."

I chuckled. "Could always just rent one. Throw a party. Have some poor sucker clean up the mess. Tip them well for it, of course."

Challenger's voice was filled with amusement. "Well of course. If you piss off the help, you're liable to end up with spit in your food. Find your socks mismatched. Your beds shortsheeted. The oregano in the wrong spot in your kitchen."

"I can't help but notice your examples are going down in severity." I said with amusement.

"I try to start at the top and work my way down." Challenger replied, a grin in her voice.

"Riiighht." I said.

Then an explosion went off right above me. It didn't hurt, but it did disorient me, and I let out a yelp as an arm wrapped around my neck. They were obviously attempting a sleeper hold, but with how resilient I was, they weren't able to collapse my veins or windpipe.

"Surprise!" A hoarse voice yelled in my ear, almost maniacal in excitement. I gripped at the arm around my neck and pulled my attacker off, throwing them upward. Flipping myself around in mid-air, I launched myself upward after my attacker.

It was only after I'd grabbed them by the front of their armor that my brain caught up with my instincts.

Oh fuck.

The armor was red. Human skulls adorning the shoulders. Spiked helmet, with a grinning skull mask covering his features. Blades on his arms, human skin leather covering the seams of his armor. More importantly, his entire torso was covered with grenades, no sign of pins or lever.

Butcher wrapped his hands around my arm, cackling in madness, as I wrapped my wings around us. I could probably... probably, take the blast, but the shrapnel from that many grenades would shred a lot of people on the street-

The explosion was loud. My sight went completely white. I could hear screams. Pain blossomed. I couldn't concentrate, my wings feeling like... well, like I'd just wrapped my stupid ass around a bomb. I slammed onto a car's hood, the horn going off. A second later I went tumbling onto the pavement as the driver slammed on the brake. I slowly staggered my way to my feet. Blood and gore was in my eyes, though I'm not sure how much of it was mine and how much was Butcher's.

What the fuck... what the fuck was that? Why the hell did he do that?

People were gathering around. My head was ringing. My sight felt fucking weird. I felt like I could see through things, like I used to when my Byte was on x-ray mode. Only it was a lot weirder because I wasn't seeing bones... I'm not sure what I was seeing.

Blinking, my sight cleared enough for me to see Challenger on the side of the road. She'd fallen over, her motorcycle lying on its side, and she'd rolled to what looked like a very painful stop around twenty feet away. She was gingerly getting to her feet, seemingly disoriented.

She stopped and looked up at me.

"Holy fuck I can see Sun's veins through her body." The thought rang through my head.

I gulped. Because I could see Challenger's veins through her body.

"What the fuck!?" The two of us said in unison.

A voice that did not belong to my inner monologue rang in my ear. "Well this didn't go exactly as planned, but it fucking worked! I told you!"

"That was a stupid fucking idea and I hate that it worked. This is even more disorienting than usual." Another man's voice spoke.

"What the fuck is going on?" Challenger's voice rang through my head.

I sucked in a deep breath. "We are in serious trouble."

"No shit Sherlock." A cacophony of voices echoed in our heads in unison, only to dissolve into hyena-like laughter.

Master/Stranger lockup. Of course. How else could this goddamned disaster turn out? At the very least I had a nice comfortable bed to sit on. A nice cell to sit in. A nice... actually, that was about where it ended. It was a white room with a heavy locked door. They hadn't bothered with restraints. Nothing they had could give even the slightest bit of resistance to what I could do.

"Disaster!? You think this is a disaster? I was supposed to be in charge still! I was sure I was going to be! Whywhywhy did I think this was a good idea?" A male's voice spoke in my ears. He sounded like the same voice during our short little conversation a month ago. Butcher Seven, then.

"Two weeks of no sleep? Lot of fucking coke? Dreaming of flying around and telling the heaviest hitters around to fuck off? Oh, yeah, what was it you said? 'With that strength we can shove Alexandria's head up Legend's ass'? Such a grand plan, genius." A woman's voice snarked, sounding exasperated by the whole thing.

Another man's voice, deep and strong, laughed. "That was fucking hilarious! You actually bought 'We think you're special!' Goddamned dumbass! Still, we're near the top of the heap, now. Not according to plan, but two for the price of one? The Teeth are going to be better than ever."

"Always about the Teeth with you! We've just become top tier and all you can think of is playing barbarian!"

"Oh like you've got any better ideas. Admit it. It's fun." That's probably One, then. "Damn right. I'm the first. I'm the best. I'm-"

"Fucking annoying." A higher-pitched voice cut in. "I'm glad I killed you." Two. Mental label added.

"Wow, we got a real genius here. Real wise. Almost as smart as Ricochet there. How are ya doing there, Rico?"

In the background, I could hear the sound of endless crying.

Goddamn it.

I did what I could to tune them out. They were annoying, distracting, and bloodthirsty, but it wasn't.... actually, no this was the worst thing that's happened to me, and I've literally been to Hell.

I concentrated. "Challenger, are you there?"

Her thoughts were jumbled, a deep undercurrent of fear running through the link. It cleared a bit as her mental voice echoed. "Sun, I hear you. How are you so calm?"

I couldn't help but smile. "Practice. I've had to use a lot of discipline to control my strength. This is just an extension of that." I was scared too, mind you, I just had a better handle on my emotions than I used to. I just knew panicking wasn't going to help. There had to be a solution.

There had to be a solution.

Cackling laughter echoed in my mind. "Yep, go and kill yourself next to one of ours. Then you can have a seat right next to the rest of us!" One laughed.

"Or we'll all end up in Challenger's head. That's fine too." A woman's voice spoke. "Been a bit of a sausage fest anyway."

One cackled. "Come on, break out of here. This shit is boring. The two Butchers should head on out, paint the town red! Get together, fuck each other, snort some blow! I don't care! Better than staring at the fuckin' wall!"

I sighed and shut my eyes.

"Oh yeah, that's a whole lot better." One said sarcastically.

"Don't you ever shut up?" Challenger's voice echoed.

"Not like I got anything better to do." One shot back.

I concentrated. "Challenger, can you feel their powers?"

"Yeah. I can see... right through walls, seeing people's veins. I feel like if I want to I can teleport, it's a weird sense. Muscles feel off." Her voice echoed in my mind.

"That'd be the superstrength." An unfamiliar male voice spoke. "Took a while to get used to it, but you'll have fun lugging around anti-aircraft guns like nothing in no time. They make such a lovely amount of carnage, too!"

I concentrated on my breathing while broadcasting back. "Challenger, can you feel any of my powers? Try some fire."

There was the sensation of Challenger holding out her hand. It felt weird. Like it was and wasn't my body at the same time. She was in a room just like mine, her vision halfway obscured... well, duh, Challenger had only one eye.

"Wow, we got into a real genius' head here." The woman, Four snarked. Then, "Hey, I'm not Four! I'm Reaper!"

Don't care, you're Four. You're in my head, you get the no-effort nickname. I didn't invite you guys to crash on my couch, so you're getting zero respect until you're out.

"Ha! Like you can kick us out!" Four shot back.

"Can't do it. No fire here." Challenger broadcast at me. "Can you use mine?"

I felt around in my head, feeling at the various new sensations. When I opened my eyes, I looked around.

Yep, various moving people in the building. I could see their veins, not their bones, which was freaking weird. I could see Challenger on the other end of the PRT building, the southeast cell when I was in the northeast. It also felt like a bunch of switches in my head, not exactly like how the Exobyte worked before, but similar enough. Helpfully labelled, too. That's the teleport. That's the inflict pain. That's the festering wounds power. Not that switch. Not that one either...

There. It felt like my body was suddenly slowed, but my perception was moving at ordinary speed. Yet everything else was moving slower, as well. Granted the only thing I could see were people moving around in the rest of the PRT building, but they were moving in slow-motion. It felt almost like how I had my superspeed perceptions back. Something else I'd been planning to work on but other things took priority.

"Hey, wait! Why can the demon-bitch use the other one's power but not the other way around!? Did I kill myself for fucking nothing!?" Ah, Seven, you dumbass. "Hey!"

"That is a good question." Challenger said curiously. "Doesn't seem fair."

"I'd love to tell you, but we're currently on a party line." I noted with some dry humor.

"Oh come on, who are we going to tell? Just let me call my mom on my cell phone and oh, right, I'm a fucking ghost!" Another whining voice spoke, one that hadn't spoken before. Guess you're Five. "Hey, I was Bonebreaker!" Five whined. "Fuck you, I heard that."

A set of veins came up outside the heavy steel door locking me in the room. This was actually pretty freaking weird. Veins moved, extending outward, then a click echoed in the room. Travers' voice echoed over the speaker. "Sunstorm. Butcher? How do you prefer to be called?"

"Fuck yeah, we're the fucking Butcher! Twice over!" One cheered.

I sighed. "Still Sunstorm. Though I can hear them. They're really goddamned annoying."

"Rip through the door! Eat his eyes!" Five yelled.

"Ugh. These guys are gross." Challenger noted. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Six cackled, and there was the sensation of hands rubbing together in eagerness. "Hey they're really sweet you know, and they pop so deliciously."

I clenched my hands. "I know what this means, Director. What's on the table?"

A moment of silence followed. "We have few options, Sunstorm. This is exactly why the Protectorate didn't want to send you to Brockton Bay. I wished you'd listened."

"The possibility of a daemonic invasion starting here was something I had to look out for, regardless." I sighed.

"Wait, daemons?" Five spoke. "Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull throne!"

"Skull thrones are really uncomfortable." Four said with amusement. "They do look awesome though."

Ricochet was quiet. I could feel Challenger listening intently through our link, as well.

Travers was quiet for a moment. "I'm being ordered to contain and neutralize this issue. With the change in how Butcher's power has worked, my superiors don't want to take the risk of it spreading further. Should you die, or should Challenger die, will it go to two more people in each case? We don't have clear answers. This is... it's not a step I want to take. My hand is being forced here. I'm... I'm aware we can't restrain you, Sunstorm. I'm asking for you to cooperate as we do what we can to neutralize this."

My lip twitched. "And what is the plan to neutralize us, Director?"

Sounding weary, even over the comm system, Travers spoke. "In twenty minutes, a high-speed transport will bring both you and Challenger to the Baumann Parahuman Containment Center. Enforcing the order that Bonebreaker earned when he was the Butcher."

"Shit, that was a fun time. Huh, they're going to send us to the Birdcage?" Five said. "They really have no other options, do they?"

"Oh fuck nonononono...." Challenger started broadcasting.

One laughed. "Heh. Figures. There's that heroic loyalty. Soon as you're a liability you're thrown into the trash heap."

"Hey guys... you remember who is in the Birdcage?" Two said with nervousness.

A moment passed, then there was a cacophony of terrified screaming. Not just from the chorus, but from Challenger.

"The Queen Bitch." Seven said with a bit of terror. "She'll eat our souls right out of our bodies. Both of them!"

Travers sounded defeated. "Sunstorm, I'm sorry. I don't see any other choice here. I'm trying to reach someone who will see some reason, but I'm getting the runaround."

I nodded. "I get it. Lack of options. Sucks to be on this end." I bit my lip. "I hope you'll understand what I have to do."

"Challenger, get ready to go." I broadcast.

"Got it. Fuck the Birdcage." Challenger's mental voice sounded determined.

The Butchers started cheering.

Travers had just enough time to say, "Wait!" before I teleported my way past the wall to the left. Since I could see through walls, I knew the next room was empty. It was another cell, like my previous one, though the explosion I produced on arrival absolutely destroyed the reinforced bed.

A sharp pain went through my head, driving me to the floor. The Butchers let out a scream of agony. I could hear Challenger scream, both in my head and distantly, through my ears. The sight of her veins flickered before they stabilized.

The alarms in the PRT building went off. I could hear the trampling of boots, adding to the pounding pain in my head.

Looking back up, I could see Challenger's veins getting back into an upright position. Right. Fire. I heal in fire. I might be able to burn away the connection, break it. Burn it out.

But that would leave Challenger alone with the Butchers. If it didn't kill her.

Fuck.

"What!? That's complete bullshit!" Seven yelled.

"I told you this whole thing was fucking stupid, but did you listen to me? Noooooo." Four chided.

Seven spoke, sounding hysterical. "I don't know why I thought it'd work, but I was sure! Now we're confronted with this bullshit and got ourselves in the head of the one person who can just throw us out!? What the fuck!?"

I shook my head with a grimace, clenching my fists. Then I tore my way through the Brute-rated reinforced walls like they were made out of tissue paper. Again, and again. When I reached Challenger's cell I was covered in concrete dust, plaster, and steel shavings.

She managed to roll to her feet in the time I'd been causing property damage, and managed to give me a weak smile. "Well, fuck. There goes my pension."

I wanted to laugh, but the peanut gallery beat me to it.

The door started rattling as the PRT troops started trying to open it. I simply turned, checked for people using the vein-vision, and smashed the outer wall with my fist. Concrete blocks and steel rebars went flying, embedding themselves into grass, vehicles and spilling themselves out onto the road. I winced as some of them landed on parked cars, alarms starting to blare out there too.

Nobody was injured, though. That was the important part.

Picking Challenger up in a bridal carry, I carried the pair of us off into the afternoon sky.

Brockton Bay was obviously right out. The first thing that would happen is the peanut gallery would demand for us to take over the Teeth.

"Damn right we will! Go back! Turn around! Go back I said!" One yelled.

"Where the hell is the demon-bitch taking us, anyway?" Two muttered.

Challenger coughed in my arms. "That's actually a good question, if said crudely." She looked down at the snow-covered trees whipping past us, with the two of us just being right above the treeline. "Got any friends we can hit up to crash on their couch?"

I grimaced. "Unfortunately all my friends are in the Protectorate. Not much in the way of backup right now."

"Always got the Teeth, ladies. We'd be even more amazing with two instead of one." Five said.

"Vermont first." I answered, once I gathered my thoughts a bit. "We're going to need somewhere to hole up for a bit, figure out our next move. They're going to be looking for us, but carefully. They don't want to have our particular problem. That gives us some breathing room." I grimaced. "Not much, though. If we're lucky we won't get people who are eager for a fight."

"We're never lucky." Challenger said quietly.

"Yeah."

"I don't know about that. We've got two girls at the same time. Every man's fantasy." Two said.

My mind was filled with groans.

"Challenger, we'll need to-"

"Lucy." She said softly.

I took a moment to look down at her face.

She gave me a wry smile. "I'm in your head. You're in mine. No point in pretending otherwise. I'm Lucy. I'd say it's a pleasure, but this is a really shitty situation."

I couldn't help but chuckle, moving my eyes back up to where I was going. Wouldn't want to plow into a tree. "I'm Tracy, then. And yeah... this really sucks."

"Oh, don't be like that." Four said in a motherly tone. "We're practically family already!"

Oh joy, another family I want no part of.

"We heard that."

----------

Once night fell, I was forced to slow down my flight somewhat. After we'd crossed into Vermont, I took us somewhat southward. Hopefully changing direction would buy us a bit of time. I wasn't too confident in that, as the Protectorate did have Thinkers, but I had to try to buy us at least some time.

I had a thought previously about living in a cave, but that was no real plan. We needed shelter, food, and somewhere to rest, if only for a few hours and come up with some solution.

Fuck. If I was back home there would be plenty of options. Martian Manhunter could mindwipe them....

"Hey! That dude is green!" Seven said. "He's kinda freaky."

Four made a clucking sound with her nonexistent tongue. "Too bad you ain't at home, then. Guess we'll keep stealing beer from your fridge."

Grrr.. Think. Options, options... the League would have this sorted within days at worst, but I just didn't know about very many options available here.

Lucy spoke. "Sun, down there, on the left."

I blinked as I felt/saw/thought what she was looking at through our link. We were over Green Mountain National Forest... how did I know that?

"I did." Lucy said.

Oh. "Right. This is fucking awkward."

"No shit." She laughed bitterly. "Feels like I got a pipeline into your head." She shook her head, then spoke without moving her lips. "Not getting everything but I am getting your surface thoughts."

I nodded. "Same. But you're right. Park's a good idea." "There's likely to be a ranger station, not many people, and at the very least we can hole up and sleep. If we're lucky there might be food."

Lucy sighed. "We're not going to have any privacy at all, are we?"

"Welcome to our world, sweet cheeks." The Butchers spoke in unison.

----------

The Watchtower's metal floor echoed as I strode through it. In my hands I held a minigun, the barrel spinning with a hissing whine. Blood stained the decks, bulletholes riddled the hull, and screams echoed through the space station.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are..." I sing-songed. There was no better musical sound than screams, though the whirring of gunfire and pleas for mercy came in at a close second. When I came up to an airlock door, I kicked my way through it, metal tearing apart in a squeal of protest. Shining steel fragments went flying, and my eyes widened in sadistic glee as I beheld my prey.

He had black hair, Asian features, a black and green outfit famous all over the galaxy. Sam Whitaker. He'd gained a Green Lantern Ring, and while he wasn't as good with it as Hal Jordon or John Stewart, he led a team like mine, taking care of the smaller issues while the heavier hitters handled worse.

"Sunstorm." He said, his voice filled with determination. His fist was outstretched, a green forcefield cutting off his half of the room from mine. Behind him stood Blackwing, the pointed ears of her helmet casting a shadow on the wall behind her.

"Sam! Ginger!" I said with a pleased smile. "It's good to see you. Missed you both!"

Blackwing pulled off her helmet, and Ginger's eyes met mine. "Tracy, listen. We can help you. We can fix this."

I cackled. "Ain't no fixing this." I lifted the minigun, firing bullets at Sam. He grunted, skidding backwards, but managed to shore himself up. He altered the shape of the field, making it smaller, but stronger, covering both himself and Ginger.

The minigun spun and spun, bullets tearing all over the room as the bounced off, tearing through the Watchtower's outer hull. When it ran out of ammo, I set it down with loving care, then dashed forward, my fist colliding with Sam's forcefield at around Mach two. The field splintered, cracking like glass, but it reformed before my second blow could strike.

Then on my third blow it shattered completely. It probably didn't help his concentration at all that I'd hit him with enough pain at the moment my fist impacted that it would even knock Superman for a loop.

Sam admirably fought through the pain. He brought up his hand, clenching his fist, but in a quick movement I'd ripped his arm out of his socket, glowing green ring still attached. Even as he staggered in shock and horror at the sudden loss of his limb, I swung it around. The impact of his arm smashing into his face sent him spinning around, and he fell to the ground in a wet thump.

"Stop hitting yourself." I spoke with vicious glee. Well, he'd bleed out in a few minutes, if that.

Then I was suddenly surrounded by smoke. Sighing, I used bloodvision to look through it, seeing Ginger coming at me in a flurry of fists and feet. She was good. Really good. As good as it was possible for a human to be, and then a couple steps beyond that. She knew my weaknesses, too. Her gloves were snapping off blasts of hypercooled air every time they hit my flesh. Sapping my heat reserves. Before it would have been enough to be a serious threat, provided she took me by surprise.

Now? Now that I was the Butcher, she might as well have been trying to beat up a planet. Maybe Apokolips.

Between one punch and another, I grabbed Ginger's gauntleted arm. Her heartbeat sped up visibly as she experienced a moment of shock and fear. Then I grabbed her throat and lifted her into the air, striding forward out of the smoke.

"Only way they'll let me sleep, only way they'll let me think..." I muttered, a maniacal smile pulling up my lips.

Ginger gagged, her green eyes going wide. Fruitlessly, she tried hitting my arm, blasting it with cold. She tried kicking my chest, blasts of electricity striking me. It hurt. It really hurt, but it only made the cheering chorus in my head grow all the more bloodthirsty. I didn't want to kill her. I just wanted the sheer noise to stop. I started squeezing. Ginger choked, her feet kicking at me uselessly, her panic rising as her face started changing into some very interesting colors.

Then an adamantine hand snapped its way around my wrist. Stronger than my own strength. Stronger than a god's strength. The next blow pushed me off my feet, slamming me into one of the Watchtower's main support structures. It was made of an alloy of Sunstones and hyperdense carbon nanotubes, capable of taking at least a few hits from a Kryptonian. Maybe even four.

Superman strode toward me. He looked disappointed, but determined, and I couldn't help but feel a bit of fear. Yet exhilaration, as well. I couldn't lose this, no matter what happened-

"Sun, wake up!" Superman said in a very feminine voice.

I couldn't help but blink. "Uh..."

"Wake the fuck up!" He/she said, cracking his/her knuckles. "This isn't real!"

As Superman strode closer, his form seemed to ripple, resolving into Lucy's terrified face. She wasn't standing, instead she was lying on a cot opposite me.

A cot. Right, a cot. We'd found a ranger station. No food, that had been moved out for the winter, but somewhere to rest for a bit before we went off. Somewhere else. Somewhere that wasn't here.

"Aww, it was just getting good!" Five said.

Four sounded interested. "So that was Superman, huh? Yummy."

Challenger growled. "Shut the fuck up."

"Make us." Two taunted.

"You want me to set you on fire again?" I spoke, taking a moment to stroke my face.

That seemed to give them a moment of pause.

"You won't, as long as Challenger's one of us too." One said, though it took him a few seconds to say it.

Challenger rolled off her cot, moving to an upright position so smoothly a cat would be jealous. "All right. What the fuck was that?"

The Butchers chortled. I could hear the grin in Two's voice. "Oh it's rather simple. When you're awake, we can share some things. Bloodthirst, ideas, and be a bit of an annoyance. When you're asleep though? Gloves are off, baby. We bleed into each other a bit. Ever have somebody play a song when you're sleeping and the dream shifts to accommodate it? Like that times twenty."

I could hear the smirk in One's tone. "Now we can hold it back, let you rest and think and do something productive... but you have to give us incentive, too. Be fun, be entertaining, Go out, fuck some guys, or some chicks. Get drunk, have fistfights. Lead the Teeth. Battleaxe and Jackass can run things for a bit, but the Butcher belongs in charge."

Five spoke up. "Or rather, Butchers. May as well take advantage of this situation. If you don't want nightmares every time you close your eyes, if you don't want us chanting kill kill kill every time you see an 'innocent,' and if you want to be more than a gibbering madwoman destroying everyone and everything in your path, you'll bend to us."

Six spoke, quiet but intense. "Only way you get to stay sane is to have as few things about your mind that don't fit in. The sooner you become people who enjoy our kind of fun, the less we're going to grind away. Ricochet fought hard, and all Butcher and Critical had to do was turn up the volume until he murdered his wife and son on day two. How long do you think you're going to last with four more voices in your heads? Go back. Lead the Teeth."

I got off the cot, taking a deep breath and clenching my fists. "All I'm hearing is a lot of incentive to burn you fuckers out of my head."

One laughed. "You won't. Not as long as sweetcheeks over there is connected. We're in your head, we've had time to get a feel for you. Despite all your power you're a softie. You won't burn us out as long as you think there's a way to save your partner."

I could feel Lucy's determination. "One thing you haven't considered."

"Oh?" Four queried, her voice filled with curiosity. "They seem to have the bases covered."

"And what happens if I kill myself?" Lucy spoke with an ice-cold tone.

I could feel it over the link. She'd do it. To keep me from going mad and becoming a threat to the entire world, she'd off herself. In a second. She was scared, she didn't want to die, but she wanted this much less.

Seven spoke with befuddlement. "But then we just end up in the demon... bitch..."

I growled. "And I'll have zero incentive to keep you in my head. I'll burn you out, even if I have to fly up to the fucking sun to do it."

One sounded a little nervous. "You do that, you'd burn out Challenger too. She'd get fried with the rest of us."

"Better than living with the rest of you like this." Lucy said.

There was a moment of silence from the chorus, then finally one of them laughed. Laughed. Laughed. For a second I thought the Joker had managed to somehow join the party line.

Then a wavering, somewhat unhinged, but previously unheard voice spoke. "She'll do it. You don't know her like I do. Challenger will dive on a fuckin' grenade for victory. And she'd do it knowing what would happen, unlike you, Yancy."

"Fuck you Ricochet." Seven said, sounding bitter.

Ricochet just laughed. "Go ahead. Drive them nuts. Then the one you all were so thirsty for getting in here will just burn us all out. Send us all to a real Hell, together. I don't give a fuck."

Challenger had a small, sad smile on her face. "Good to hear you're still in there, Tom."

A feeling of bittersweet longing washed over us. "Sorry, Luce. I'm so so sorry..."

"Nothing to be sorry for." She said quietly. Then her eye hardened as she looked at me, and by extension the Butchers, seeing through both our points of view. "The rest of you assholes know we've got nothing left to lose, now. You want to drive us insane, kill our families and friends? I'll end myself first, and unlike Ricochet I know I'm going to the only person who'll be able to stop this stupid fucking cycle you morons love. Drive us mad? We will end you."

"You'll go with us." Butcher One said, nervousness bleeding through the link.

"That's what you're afraid of, isn't it?" Challenger said with a nearly feral grin. "This existence you have isn't fun, but it's familiar now. You get to have some agency, some small bit of control, some fun entertaining yourself and living vicariously through this little window. What happens if it ends, hm? Scared of the window shutting, leaving you in the dark? Forever. Guess what? I'm not afraid of that shit. Bring it on. I'm used to that idea. But you all? That scares you."

There was a momentary pause, then Ricochet let out another peal of unhinged laughter.

"What's so fucking funny!?" Seven demanded.

"Oh, it's simple." Ricochet replied. "You wanted the strength of someone who could benchpress tanks, but the one who's just barely superhuman at all is the one who scares the rest of you fucks. She's even scarier than the lovely demon who can just burn us out, even if she doesn't want to."

"I liked you better when you were quiet." One spoke. "Fine. Seems we need to come to a new arrangement. If you do find a way to cut us out we're dead anyway. You need to give us incentive to cooperate."

"There's probably options." I said, folding my arms. "Brain uploading, maybe?"

Challenger nodded. "There's some Tinkers around. Maybe Toybox?"

I grimaced. "It'd be a lot easier if I had the League's resources... they could easily whip up some androids and do a telepathic transfer. Or use some magic to separate the extra minds, giving them new bodies. Or..." My eyes widened.

"Oh shit, she's got an idea and I don't like it." Six said.

Five spoke quietly. "Uh, guys, did we get into the head of the one person on the planet who can just burn us out and is crazier than we are? Because that idea is batshit insane."

"You think it'll work?" Lucy asked, her voice filled with curiosity, and a bit of hope.

I nodded. "There's a lot of unknowns. But it's the best option I know about. We don't have money for Toybox, I bet my accounts are frozen right now, and the Butcher's reputation is going to work against us just about anywhere we go. If we're captured we'll just end up in the Birdcage, and while I don't know much about the Fairy Queen," there it was, a lot of terrified screaming from the chorus. "I do know that could end badly."

"I don't see how that's any better than just burning us out." One said.

"It's not oblivion." Four said thoughtfully. "According to the myths he's pretty fair. Though I'd have thought it was just a myth until I saw some of that shit in the demon's dreams."

"But we won't be leading the Teeth. We don't know what'll happen to us!" One cut in.

"I want this over with too." Six said. "This sounded a lot better before I got stuck in the voyeur seat. This kind of immortality seemed a lot better than it actually is."

Lucy nodded slowly. "Right. We're going to need some things. If your memories are accurate they're not going to be fond of people walking in the front door. Or back door, rather."

I nodded. "We're going to need some tribute, a lot of meat to bribe the gateway's guardian... and some coins for the ferryman."

Ricochet just started cackling. "Well Yancy, you had the bright idea of getting into a demon's head. Now we're all going to Hell. Hope you're proud."

"Fuck you, Rico."

I laughed helplessly. "Well, Lucy, guess we're taking a trip to Hades."

A small smile pulled up on her lips. "Utterly insane, but you know what? I think I'm getting used to it."

Phillip Travers had his hands folded over his desk. His speakerphone was lit up with a red glare, seemingly reflective of the sheer rage directed at him from all over the country.

"Current situation report." Chief-Director Costa-Brown spoke.

Travers replied, a grimace on his lips. "Butcher Seven ambushed Sunstorm and Challenger on patrol. Butcher apparently made a suicide run on Sunstorm, but somehow both Challenger and Sunstorm inherited. Both returned and were placed in Master/Stranger screening, and both mentioned hearing the voices of the previous Butchers. Within six hours of being placed in isolation, I received the order to Birdcage the pair signed by Judge Peter Regan, enforcing the long-standing Birdcage order on the Butcher. It wasn't expected that a pair of heroes would be the hosts of the Butcher at the time, but that order was signed years ago during Bonebreaker's time as the Butcher."

He took a moment to breathe, getting his thoughts in order for clarity. "Apparently Senator Whitman on the oversight committee became aware of Sunstorm and Challenger being infected by the Butcher, and that they were in custody. He went to Judge Regan, recommending the Birdcage order despite the change in behavior of the Butcher's power and its current hosts. Judge Regan signed off on the order and sent it to Attorney General McIntosh. I contested the order, and was informed the transport was on its way regardless of my objections. When I followed up the chain to the Attorney General, I was informed that if I did not obey the order I would be removed in favor of someone who would. Carl Price was cited as my potential replacement."

"Interesting." Costa-Brown spoke. "Very interesting that the papers didn't cross my desk until... four hours after that. With the change in the behavior in the Butcher's power, it required analysis, rather than jumping the gun. Price..." There was the sound of rustling papers. "Price? He's not qualified to run a bookstore, and most certainly not an entire department. Besides, I'm the only one who has the authority to remove a Director, not the Attorney General."

Travers fought to keep the amusement out of his voice. "I understand that, however the sheer confusion of conflicting orders from up the chain of command would have allowed their aims to go through regardless of the proper procedure. The transport was enroute even as I attempted to argue my case, with an armed escort. When I was informed of my authority being overridden in this instance, and as I was unable to reach your office at the time, I went to the cells to inform both of them of the situation."

Her voice cool over the line, Costa-Brown spoke. "What was your reasoning as for informing them? You could have simply told them they were getting on a transport to a more isolated location for treatment and therapy."

Travers sighed. "That might have worked on Sunstorm, but not on Challenger. Challenger knows what a Birdcage transport looks like. If they attempted to escape during loading, we would have definitely had casualties. With Sunstorm's known regeneration abilities, and with Challenger having Bonebreaker's strength, as well as Gorger's resilience, it was unlikely any tranquillizing agent we had on hand would have disabled both long enough to get them on the transport. We don't have restraints capable of handling Sunstorm, and with Sprite's teleportation, Challenger could have gotten out of anything we put on her in any case. The only viable option was to try to convince the pair to board willingly."

There was a slight amount of amusement in Costa-Brown's voice. "Of course. And if they decided to simply leave, the advance warning would mean they would get a head start on pursuit."

"Of course not, Chief-Director. I was simply following the orders passed on by the Attorney General and doing what I could to prevent casualties or fatalities. That Sunstorm and Challenger reacted the way they did was unfortunate, but impossible to prevent with the resources on hand." Travers said mildly.

"And the fact you objected to those orders?"

He spoke with a slight smile. "My objections were noted and overruled. I did what I was ordered to. That they reacted as they did before I could convince them of the rightness of the government's course of action is simply how things unfolded."

Her voice calm and betraying nothing, Costa-Brown replied. "Your actions will be under review, Director Travers. Should the Butchers become as dangerous as feared, it is likely your department will be under a very deep cleansing."

Travers sighed. "I'm less concerned about my department and more concerned about our response to this situation. Should we put the Butchers into a position where they can't see a way out, it could be a bloodbath. Perhaps causing the same damage that Senator Whitman was trying to prevent. We'd need a concerted effort of strong Protectorate members to stop them, and that runs the risk of spreading the Butcher's influence further than just two."

"We are considering options, Director Travers. At the moment, we are going to move with caution. In the meantime, you are to pass on all information you have to my office."

"Of course. If that's all, Chief-Director?" Travers said as blandly as he could.

"For now." The line clicked.

Travers let out a breath.

He hated that woman.

The worst part was she was absolutely right.

----------

Twelve days.

Twelve days with no word of the new Butcher. Or Butchers, rather. Ricochet had gone mad within two days, yet the two had yet to rejoin the Teeth. The longest a new Butcher had gone before rejoining was three days, and that was simply due to Bonebreaker putting on a show to proclaim to the city that they had killed Butcher IV, Reaper, and claimed the title. The resulting party was still spoken of in hushed tones at times. It took weeks to clean up the city afterward. Especially the bloodstains.

Travers was buried in paperwork. Moreso than usual. The loss of Challenger meant he had to push things through so someone would take over as Protectorate leader. Armsmaster had noted some interest in the position, but he'd been a member of the Protectorate for less than a year. He still needed sharpening on procedures.

Still, with a bit of time and polish, Travers suspected Armsmaster would be one hell of a Tinker.

All the PRT could do was keep their eyes and ears open. If the Butcher held to pattern, they would be found in the Trainyard or Boat Graveyard, rallying the Teeth for another such 'celebration.'

Then again, nothing about this held to the Butcher's pattern. He hated it. How and why did it go to two people instead of one? If powers could simply change without warning... that brought concerns about every single parahuman on the planet.

And that idiot in Washington thought just throwing the problems into the inescapable prison was the best solution? There were so many ways that could backfire that counting them off would take an eon.

Best case scenario, the Fairy Queen could remove the Butcher's powers and keep it from leaping to anyone else. Worst case scenario the Butcher would take over the Fairy Queen and they'd have an emergent, ever-growing new Endbringer on their hands.

His phone rang. He looked at it as if it was a viper, and with all the enthusiasm of a man grabbing such a snake, he picked it up.

"Director Travers." He spoke, attempting to keep his voice neutral.

"This is Police Chief Williams of Eastport, Maine. I was referred to your number after contacting my local PRT."

Travers nodded to himself. "What can I do for you?"

Williams spoke, his voice calm and collected. "Over the last few days, we had a few odd incidents across Maine. An antique store in Ellsworth, Maine, was broken into. The cameras were destroyed, so we thought it was some vandals, but the only thing taken was the owner's ancient coin collection. Quite valuable to the right collectors, but far from the most valuable items in the shop. It wasn't even the entire collection, they only stole ancient Greek coins. Drachmas, made of silver. The only reason it got flagged as a possible parahuman was that there was no sign of an ordinary method of leaving the scene. Bootprints vanished, as if the owner flew off. Or teleported."

Travers mulled that over for a moment. "Why are you calling me with this? A Mover using their powers for petty theft is a concern but not one for outside the state."

"Because a meat-packing plant here in Eastport was broken into three hours ago, using the same methods but caught on video this time. Cameras caught Challenger of the Protectorate stealing a recently slaughtered cow carcass, Half an hour after that Sunstorm stole a truck out of a junkyard. She just picked it up and carried it off. We haven't been able to follow them, but the direction they went off was eastward. We're right on the Canadian border, so they crossed into New Brunswick."

Travers' breath hitched. "Interesting. I'm going to send you our email, I'm going to ask you to send over everything you have."

Williams sounded annoyed. "Why are Protectorate members from New Hampshire stealing in Maine, Director?"

Travers stroked his chin. "That is a good question, Chief. I don't have answers for you right now, but hopefully they'll be forthcoming."

----------

"If it was just the Butcher, this would be pretty tame." Velocity said. "I've been here for years, and they're fond of the simple stuff. Carnage, sex, drugs, violence, big weapons, breaking social norms just because they can. Stealing ancient coins, a trashed truck and a bunch of beef? Makes no sense."

Miss Milita nodded as she rifled through the pages. "Looking over the other reports, some of them make sense. At a guess they broke into a grocery store in Augusta to get some food and supplies. Not much of a mess, either. The lock on the door was barely damaged, and they were in and out in a few minutes. They picked up things that can last. Soup, some cooking supplies. They knew exactly what they were grabbing. The weird part is they also stole barbecue lighters."

Travers frowned. "Sunstorm can generate fire easily. They don't have any need to steal that."

Armsmaster nodded slowly. "I'm not as familiar with the Butcher, but I have a hypothesis. We noticed Sunstorm had difficulty after she used Sprite's explosive teleport to escape the cell. Both Sunstorm and Challenger fell over in pain, and it took a few moments for them to gather themselves back together. Afterward, Sunstorm simply went through the walls, as we'd expect of a Brute of her caliber."

Velocity had gone stiff. "You think it's a power backlash?"

Armsmaster nodded. "We already know Sunstorm generates flames, both as an offensive, defensive and a regenerative measure. I suspect the link between the two suffered a negative power interaction. Sunstorm generated fire, but is either used to or immune to the pain fire would bring to nerve endings. But Challenger did feel it, and the pain fed back through and disabled both of them. Temporarily."

Travers nodded slowly. "You think if we expose Sunstorm to fire, it'll slow both of them enough to be disabled. We'd just have to take advantage of the opening. Of course... if one of them dies during the attempt..."

Velocity sounded sick. "Then we've killed one of our friends, and we might get two new Butchers."

"Damned if we do. Damned if we don't." Miss Militia said.

Armsmaster nodded, taking a moment to pull and fiddle with the loosened armoring on his wrist. "I've read the profile on the previous Butchers. If they had succumbed already, they'd be rejoining the Teeth. It's the only group that will tolerate the Butcher. If they simply wanted to go after someone else with high-level powers, heading any direction westward would make sense. South for Legend, southwest for Eidolon, Alexandria and Hero. A lot more options in other cities, though not quite so high-profile. Are there any high risk threats in Canada?"

Travers spoke softly. "Only one I know about is Heartbreaker. He'd probably be able to stop this situation from getting worse, but putting them under his control is unacceptable. He'd be able to make demands of just about anyone or risk Sunstorm dropping a building on his target."

Velocity folded his arms. "Anything else out in eastern Canada that might have their interest? Someone they want to recruit, maybe?"

Travers shook his head. "No, I don't think so. If they're looking for someone that would get us off their backs... well, that's a nightmare scenario. Who could they get on board that would make this situation worse?"

"Okay. Food for the dog." Lucy noted.

"Cerberus, but yes." I nodded with a chuckle.

"Wine for the big guy himself." Lucy ticked off her fingers.

I nodded. "I hope he likes red wine. I'm no fan of it."

She rolled her eye. "Something to carry me there, plus other cargo."

I patted the side of the pickup truck I'd stolen out of Eastport's junkyard. It was almost entirely rusted out, used to be somewhat good, but at the very least the back was covered. It meant we could at least sleep with a roof over our heads. "Not in great shape, but it's not like we need the actual engine."

Her lip twitched. "Got our coins for the ferryman, hopefully enough to go in and back out."

I shrugged. "I was surprised about how many drachmas are available. Still feel bad about stealing them."

"God you two are so fucking lame." Five muttered. There was a general murmur of agreement in the back of my head.

We ignored that.

I went on. "Our best bet is to head over the Atlantic once night falls. If we fly fast enough, we'll be able to get there before dawn, and it'll be less likely for a satellite to pick us up. It's not as if we can charter a normal flight, anyway."

Lucy sighed. "It'd be a lot easier if we could both fly."

I shrugged. "No helping that, at least right now. I know of ways to change that, but it isn't something I can do on my own. We'd need a Tinker, and from what the manuals say their specialities can be hit or miss when it comes to making exactly what you want." I shook my head. "Anyway... since it'll be dark it's going to be hard to navigate. I'll need you to keep an eye on the compass to make sure we're going in the right direction."

"Why didn't we ever get a Tinker?" One mused. "Would have been one hell of a force multiplier."

Four snarked back. "Because you're a fucking dumbass who kicked prospective Tinkers out of the Teeth, jackass."

That started off an argument, which only ended when I conjured up the mental image of fire.

"You're bluffing." One accused.

"You really want to risk it?" I shot back.

"You haven't got the guts." Two hesitantly said.

Lucy grinned evilly. "Do you really want to see what I come up with? How about a round of 'The Song That Never Ends'?"

That made the Butchers pause. Finally, Seven spoke. "Right. I'm gonna shut up."

And so we bought ourselves a bit of blissful silence as Lucy and I took a break in the midday on a Nova Scotia beach. It was cold, wet, and miserable, but it was very pretty, at least. So we slept in the back of the truck. It wasn't comfortable. Or that warm, but it was enough considering my wings were draped around Lucy. That combined with the blankets made it nice and warm.

"Geez, you two are so sickeningly sweet it makes me gag." Five spoke with disgust.

Shaddup.

"D'aww." Ricochet said.

You too.

----------

"You've got to go, sweetheart." My father/some stranger spoke. He was holding his chest, ragged gasps coming from his lips. Blood was spurting around his hands.

"Dad, please!" Lucy's/my hands were trembling, wrapped around his own. "I can help with this..."

His face was turning blue as he made painful, rasping gasps. Bloody froth was coming from his lips.

Just not enough time. Not enough time to figure it out! Just need to...

...figure it out.

His chest was rising and falling, but slowly. So very slowly. I/we just had to keep him from bleeding out. Keep him from getting worse. Keep him from drowning in his own blood.

How do I/we do that?

It was just a blankness. I had no idea. All of the sudden I could think at such great speeds and I didn't know what to do!?

Lucy, you/I am a goddamned dumbass.

I rolled him carefully onto his side, to help let the airways clear. Then I put my hands over the wound and... and hoped the ambulance would get here on time.

It felt like an eternity. It may as well have been. It still felt like a yawning chasm when Lucy/I realized that despite the feeling of stretched-out time... he wasn't moving anymore.

Lucy just sat there. Utterly still, as still as the corpse of her father.

It took effort. A lot of effort. I managed to pull myself from her point of view. Make myself extant in her dream. I could still feel her emotions. A black, bottomless pit of grief and the feeling of the world just... not making any sense, anymore.

Gently, I wrapped my arms around her from behind. "It's okay." I whispered. "It's okay to not be okay."

The dream held, seemingly for another eternity.

----------

When we awoke, it was dark outside the truck. Lucy's eye opened blearily, before she focused on my face. She looked terrible, but considering the dream, I couldn't blame her.

"Morning. Or evening." She said, wincing as she tried to straighten up.

I gave her a gentle smile. "Definitely evening." I gently stroked my fingers through her hair. "You want to talk about it?"

Lucy shook her head. "No. Not really. It's just... worst moment of my life."

I nodded. "If you want to chat sometime, I'm up for it." Then I paused. "What, no comments from the rest of you?"

"Shiiiit." Two said. "Kind of an unspoken rule in here. We don't talk about the Trigger. Otherwise we'd all be ripping into each other all the time. We don't even rag on Rico's, even if he is a little pansy. Not now that he's in here, anyway."

"Fuck you too." Ricochet said, his mental voice filled with hatred.

"Ain't my type." Two shot back.

"We all broke." Four spoke softly. "Now we'd probably poke some fun if one of us snapped because we didn't get a pink pony for the birthday or something, but otherwise that's one thing we just don't fuck around with."

One spoke, sounding cheerful. "Now if you just were a weakling, we'd tear into you both until you tossed yourselves at a proper Teeth member. But neither of you are. You didn't end up with us properly, but both of you got spines and guts. Moreso for the cyclops there, actually."

"Gee, thanks." Lucy snorted.

Five laughed. "Oh we'd love to see you raise some carnage and mayhem, but you've got balls. Bigger than Gorger's, anyway. Well, he had more balls than brains, but that's not saying much either."

"Hey!" Seven exclaimed.

I shook my head as I looked down at Lucy. "Right. We'd better not put this off any longer."

"Can still turn back to the Teeth, you know." One said.

Lucy grimaced. "I'll take my chances with the sheer insanity of asking a Greek god for help. More reliable than your bullshit."

"Harsh, but accurate." Six said, sounding amused.

Lucy got off me, throwing off the blankets. Both of us let out a gasp and shiver at the feeling of the colder air, but she quickly wrapped herself up in the blankets and went out the back. I could feel her thinking at me. "Right. Better get this show on the road." She went around to the front, got in the driver's seat. Nudging the covered slab of beef in the passenger seat aside, she pulled open the glovebox and pulled out the compass we'd stashed in there.

I took a moment, rubbed my hands, closed the back of the truck, then picked the whole thing up. "Keep us pointed east, slightly south. It's about four thousand miles to get there, so it's going to take a bit. We're going to have to stay pretty low to avoid radar and the like."

"You made this trip before?" Lucy's mental voice was questioning.

"When I first got here, yes." I started flying us forward, picking up speed. "I could get there a lot faster on my own, especially if I went suborbital, but unfortunately I don't have a space suit for you. We're just going to have to be careful."

----------

Despite my best efforts, I wasn't able to get the truck to go through the air much faster than three hundred miles an hour. Pickup trucks weren't that aerodynamic at the best of times, and while I could go a lot faster, the truck certainly couldn't, the strain of the winds on it made it difficult to control. Nor could I simply grab Lucy and go, there's only so many things I can carry with two hands. Besides, if I tried that the wind might just rip her skin off, and that wouldn't be any good either.

That meant that by the time the sun came up, we were only most of the way across the Atlantic. It took another hour before we saw the coast of Portugal. I steered us southward, seeking the entrance to the Mediterranean Sea.

I know technically it's broken up into a bunch of smaller seas, but the only one I remember offhand was the Aegean, due to Themyscira's presence in it.

So we sat down at a rocky beach, covered by an alcove, to eat, rest up a bit, and do our business. I was so glad we'd stolen some toilet paper.

"You know, this ain't so bad." Six said.

"How do you figure?" Four spoke with some curiosity.

"Well, having a bit of a road trip... or sea trip, in this case. Heading off somewhere entirely new. Maybe having this whole life change."

One snarled. "This bitch is literally going to drop us off in Hell, and that's assuming she's not actually insane."

Ricochet gave an unhinged laugh. "We're already there, already there! Afraid of a different kind of Hell, are we? Maybe you shouldn't have been such a bloodthirsty monster!"

"Shut it Rico." One shot back.

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you over my wife's screams."

"Tom..." Lucy said softly.

There was a feeling of shame over the link. "Sorry Luce..."

I sighed as I stirred an opened can of soup in a cookpot over a fire, wincing. "C'mon, we're almost there. Right. We need to go over some of the pitfalls of travelling the Underworld. At least Hades' part of it."

Lucy nodded. "Right. No eating anything. I remember that from one of the myths."

I nodded with a smile. "Yeah. No sleeping either. If you don't have divine blood, sleep and death are the same thing there. You'll wake up dead. Still awake, but you won't be able to leave again." I grimaced. "I probably still could, but that's because of these." I tapped my horns. "Don't want to risk it, though. We probably could get out if we could defeat Hades, but that's way easier said than done. It's doable, but not likely with just the two of us."

Lucy nodded. "Freaky, but understandable. I'm kinda curious as to how the myths all line up now, but that's something we can worry about later."

I gave her a gentle smile. "Main thing is to remember the laws of hospitality. It's a huge thing among the ancient Greeks. Someone turns up at your door, bringing a gift, you see them in. He'll almost be obligated to see us, to hear us out, but if and when he tells us to leave. We leave. No arguing, no 'just one more thing.' We make our request clear to start with. And that's just it, it's a request. We can't force his hand. Not in this anyway."

"This is fuckin' nuts." Seven said, sounding worried. "You seem to think this will work, when you haven't any idea how powers work at all. Nobody does."

"Doesn't matter." I replied. "Gods have a way of making things work regardless of logic. Princess Diana has a sword forged from the concept of sharpness and a lasso forged from truth itself. If we convince Hades to rip you out, you're out. Maybe, just maybe, all of you get to be independent again."

"Dude, this chick is fuckin' crazy. That green guy? She thinks he's a Martian. From Mars. Now she thinks we're off on a trip to see a bunch of gods from a Disney special! Her memories are too fuckin' insane, even for us! What the fuck!?" Seven spoke desperately. "We are so fucked."

"Stop, stop with these delusions. Please. Go back. Lead the Teeth. It's an amazing life, you know. You'll never want for anything." Two said, almost wheedling.

"Except some privacy in my own head. What's the matter?" Lucy said with a smirk. "A bit desperate with no leverage?"

The silence spoke volumes.

We finished our breakfast, then as I got to my feet to continue the flight, a new figure struck the ground fifty feet away from us.

Wearing electric blue, looking determined and with his hand extended, Legend shouted. "Butchers! Stand down and surrender!"

Of course... the Butchers started chanting in my head. "Fight, fight, fight!"