13.2

Atonement 13.2

Colin ignored Legend's routine speech to the gathered capes. He'd heard it all before, and hopefully, he would live to hear it again.

Where is she?

He forced down his concern. Hunter would be here. For all her flaws, she wouldn't leave her city to fight an Endbringer without her.

Especially not after she'd killed all the villains that may have helped otherwise. There was a reason the PRT couldn't take a harder stance against parahuman criminals, and it wasn't because they were averse to lethal force when it suited them. They needed the villains alive when the time came.

His eyes passed over the out-of-town groups to where New Wave was assembled in one corner of the convention hall. They gave off the same agitated, anxious energy that always permeated the prelude to Endbringer battles. It didn't surprise him that Panacea was not among them.

Colin almost preferred it when they didn't have this much time to organize. Quick battles were chaotic, and much more damaging to the city in question, but it was less troublesome. Less overthinking. Just teleport in, and fight. No time to worry about whether the fallen angel had already foreseen their every move.

The Simurgh was letting them stew while she took her time.

Movement outside caught his eye, and he turned to face the wide wall of windows that lined one side of the gathering hall.

A wave of concerned murmuring spread through the crowd as the others noticed, too.

The Hunt had arrived.

Despite prowling behind the rest of Hunter's army, Hellhound's beasts were the most immediately eye-catching. Colin counted twelve of the massive creatures, each easily two stories tall at the shoulder, with unnaturally wide maws filled with jagged teeth and claws half as long as his halberd. They sniffed and twitched with a wild, animalistic ferocity that made his hair stand on end.

In front of the demonic hounds, somewhere between thirty and fifty men in black combat armor walked in a lazy, confident lack of formation. All of them moved with an inhuman smoothness that belied some kind of parahuman enhancement, whether Tinkertech or otherwise.

Even Colin had no idea what kind of twisted alterations Hunter and Panacea were capable of, working in tandem. He should probably ask before the fighting started. He would welcome any edge they were willing to provide.

The Hunt's vanguard only consisted of seven capes, but they struck an imposing line as they made their way confidently forward.

The former Undersiders. Colin idly wondered if they still went by the same names. The PRT didn't even know the name of the cape in the gas mask. It's not like the Hunt ever stuck around to talk.

And in the center, Taylor Hebert led the march, armed to the teeth with Amy Dallon at her side.

At the edge of his vision, Colin saw Alexandria slip out of the room while Legend continued to speak uninterrupted.

If she was going to confront the Hunt, Colin very much wanted to be present for that conversation. He turned and left through an emergency exit, striding quickly to the end of the alley. Dragon and Militia could hand out the armbands.

He was about to step out onto the street and approach, but thought better of it at the last second. Instead, he calibrated the sensitivity of his directional microphones and listened carefully as Alexandria landed directly in front of Hunter with a spray of broken concrete.

"...know what will happen if she corrupts you," Colin heard Alexandria demand angrily after a brief shriek of static feedback.

There was also a very faint ghost of background music he couldn't identify. He checked his readouts, but the Simurgh was still miles away.

"The world will crumble, regardless," Hunter replied. Her voice resonated with a strange kind of calm serenity. "My path was set before I ever started dreaming."

"It's irresponsible, and shortsighted. Return to your sanctuary. It's not worth the risk," Alexandria said.

"You and I both know that isn't true."

Colin could hear the irritating smile in Hunter's voice. She always managed to sound like she knew something he didn't. It was mildly comforting to know that she spoke the same way to everyone, regardless of their station.

"Did she tell you to say that, or are you trying to resist the currents of fate?" Hunter asked.

There was a beat of dead silence. Colin couldn't make heads or tails of the cryptic question, but it clearly meant something to Alexandria.

"What do you know about her?" Alexandria hissed. Colin hadn't heard her lose control of her composure like that before.

"I know that she holds your strings even more firmly than she holds mine. How does it feel, being a puppet in someone else's play?"

What the hell?

Colin didn't like feeling confused.

He swore that he could hear Alexandria's indestructible teeth grinding together, even from a block away.

"We will be finishing this conversation later," Alexandria said, her voice once again flat and in control. "But you follow our directives, here. Countless lives are at stake, and more if you fall to the Simurgh's influence."

"Agreed, except for the explosive armbands. We'll take the necessities to communicate with you, but we have our own means of resisting the song, and we'll put down any of our own who lose themselves. I know you have versions that aren't primed, for those who are immune," Hunter said.

Colin suddenly felt vaguely reassured about his dubious choices. Whatever Taylor Hebert was up to, she was playing on a level that had even Alexandria on the back foot.

There was another long moment of silence and haunting music.

Alexandria flew away without another word, and the Hunt continued their walk.

…

The atmosphere in the convention hall was thick enough to cut with a scalpel. Amy was all too familiar with the pre-battle apprehension, even if it never affected her quite the same way it did everyone else.

She was just the healer. If the Endbringer managed to make it to the triage point… well, there wouldn't be all that much she could do about it.

If she died, that was that.

She was, once again, stuck in the position of being afraid for others.

Mainly Victoria. Just like old times.

For better or worse, she wasn't really worried about Taylor. Her girlfriend had a plan, and she could take care of herself. Even if she died, she would find her way back.

Vicky was fragile by comparison.

New Wave was staring at her from across the wide room. Amy didn't know what to do about that. She really wished that their judgement didn't weigh on her, but some part of her obviously still craved her family's approval, however useless.

The parahuman members of the Hunt filed in behind her and Taylor, earning them nervous glances from the other capes present. They may not be banned from participating like the Nine or the Butcher, but they were a close comparison. Nobody trusted cape killers.

"Do you want to go talk to Victoria, before?" Taylor said softly, unfazed by the stares.

Amy glanced up at her.

Taylor's black eyes were annoyingly sincere. The concern there was clearly for her sake, rather than anything darker. The lack of jealousy or judgement bordered on unbelievable.

If Amy hadn't been able to confirm Taylor's authenticity with every touch, she wouldn't have believed it at all.

"Yeah, I think so," Amy replied. It would be worth it. Just in case.

Even if that meant potentially dealing with Carol, however briefly.

"Do you want me to come?" Taylor asked.

Again, with the genuine concern. For an unrepentant murderer, her girlfriend was such a fucking sap.

"Yes, please."

She was already a villain. Showing up with a gang boss at her back wasn't exactly going to make it any worse. Better that they know what she had become.

Taylor turned to the other hunters.

"Figure out how the other capes are organizing themselves and go wherever works best for you. Also, behave," Taylor said in Alec's direction.

Rachel snorted.

"I'll be the pinnacle of cooperation, I promise," Alec said innocently. "I do feel the need to point out that you just mouthed off to Alexandria, though."

"Do as I say, not as I do," Taylor replied blithely. The nervous energy of the incoming calamity was seeping deeper.

Amy took a steadying breath.

It didn't matter what Carol or anyone else thought. They weren't important.

Just Victoria, and Taylor.

Her everything.

She could handle that much.

They made their way across the room. It wasn't too tightly packed, but the gathered capes still moved out of their way like a stream flowing around an unexpected rock.

The stares of her adopted family were heavy. Amy did her best to tune them out, focusing on Vicky as they neared the group. The pre-battle jitters were clearly affecting her sister too, because Victoria was constantly hovering a few inches off the ground.

Victoria glanced back at the rest of the team and rolled her eyes before floating forward to meet them. Amy studiously ignored Carol's glare.

"Hey, Ames," Vicky said with slightly forced enthusiasm. Her eyes flicked sideways to Taylor with a conflicted expression. "Hunter? Or Anne?"

"Either is fine," Taylor said easily. "Doesn't really matter. Hey, Victoria."

"What's with the music?" Victoria glanced between them.

Amy shrugged. Taylor may have opened up about her resurrection, but she was still keeping things close to the chest when it came to Dinah Alcott.

Hopefully, there was a good reason for that. Amy was going to be pissed if it turned out to be something stupid.

"It's a smokescreen," Taylor said, as if that made any sense. "Don't worry about it."

The three of them just stared at each other awkwardly for a few seconds. Amy hated the distance between her and her sister, but she didn't know what to say.

"I miss you," Victoria finally broke the silence, staring down at Amy and pointedly not looking at Taylor.

Amy's stomach twisted. Still, she couldn't stop herself from smiling. And immediately feeling guilty about the churning mess of feelings in her chest.

Taylor knows, and she loves me anyway.

"I miss you, too. A lot," Amy admitted. "This fucking sucks, but… At least we're on the same side again, for now."

"Silver linings," Vicky grinned sadly.

Part of Amy desperately wanted to offer to enhance her sister.

Despite what she told Taylor last night, though, she still didn't trust herself. If she let herself change any part of Victoria, she didn't know if she could stop.

But if Vicky died…

It's an Endbringer. It won't make a difference.

She would tell herself that, anyway.

"Are you just going to be healing, or…" Victoria trailed off.

"Sort of. I'll also be… keeping an eye on things," Amy bit her lip. She wasn't sure how she was going to stay connected to the Labyrinth when the fighting started.

"I'll give Rachel the lantern so she can open a door at the triage center once you get there," Taylor said.

Victoria raised an eyebrow. Had Taylor mentioned the lantern in front of her before?

It didn't really matter, now.

"Hunter," a new voice approached.

Amy turned and scowled at Armsmaster for interrupting.

"I need to talk to him anyway," Taylor murmured quietly to her. "Let me know when you're ready to go."

"Okay," Amy said.

Taylor walked away and she was left alone with her sister.

Amy met Victoria's eyes, and for a moment things felt like they used to. Before everything got complicated.

"Hey, don't fucking die, okay?" Amy said with a half-smile. "It'd be a pain in the ass to figure out how to bring you back to life."

Between her and Taylor, they could probably figure it out, though. Possibly.

Victoria laughed despite the atmosphere. Or maybe because of it.

"I'll do my best," Victoria said more seriously. "I'll try to keep an eye on Anne, too."

It wasn't necessary, but Amy appreciated the gesture.

"I'll keep her safe, for you. Don't worry."

She didn't deserve either of them.

"Thanks, Vicky."

It was selfish, and she knew it, but she didn't really care about any of the other volunteers. She would heal all of the broken bodies that they brought back for her, but none of them mattered. Not compared to her everything.

She really wasn't cut out for being a hero. This may not have been her original plan, but it was… better, than the alternative.

If only the version of her from five years ago could see her now. She'd probably have a heart attack.

Amy glanced at the other members of her former family. Mark smiled sadly and Crystal bit her lip, but none of them offered anything. Amy didn't look at Carol.

Instead, she took one long last look at Vicky, floating resplendent in her Glory Girl outfit. Amy raised her arms for a hug. She could handle that much, and it would be worth it.

The warmth and the chemical light show that was Victoria's biology was as bittersweet as ever, but Amy couldn't bring herself to care.

Vicky pulled back and smiled.

"See you on the other side," her sister said. "Love you, Ames."

The knives were still fucking sharp, though.

"Love you, too."

…

"Do you have any additional augmentations that could assist, here?" Armsmaster said. His tone was flat and focused. Taylor appreciated the no nonsense approach, after dealing with Alexandria's obstructive bullshit.

She hadn't been sure whether the Triumvirate took orders from the woman in the fedora or not, but Alexandria's response had been telling. Whatever the true nature of Cauldron was, its roots went deep.

They gave people powers. Alexandria was almost certainly one of theirs. Taylor idly wondered if Eidolon and Legend also bought their powers, like kids deciding which candy to get on a trip to the grocery store.

How many capes in the Protectorate were puppets?

Did the rest of them even know? Dean hadn't said anything about a precog pulling his strings.

She didn't have time to worry about it now.

"I can ask Amy if she's willing to adjust your biology, if you're open to the idea. The process is… invasive, to say the least. Amy can kill as easily as she heals," Taylor shrugged.

"I assume you have undergone these… adjustments?" Armsmaster's voice was wary.

"Yes. Me, and the rest of the Hunt," Taylor wasn't sure how much information she wanted to give away, even though Colin was nominally her ally. Their agreement was tenuous.

Still, they had a common enemy, for now. It would be inconvenient if he died when they could have prevented it.

What she could see of his face was uncertain, but he had an air of the same manic fervor that drove him to ask for her cooperation in the first place.

"Are there any mental effects?" Colin asked.

"You would never know if there were," Taylor said candidly. "If you take this step, it must be on faith. No reassurances from me will mean anything, in the end."

He nodded slowly.

Amy stepped up next to her. Taylor didn't need to look; she simply knew. Her senses were becoming more attuned to her insight every day.

"All set?" Taylor asked over her shoulder.

"Vicky said she'd keep an eye on you," Amy said with a small smile.

"I'm flattered. Are you willing to give Armsmaster a tune up?"

Amy raised her eyebrows.

"Are you sure?" She asked Taylor.

Sure that we can trust him?

Sure that he won't turn our own enhancements against us?

"No, but fortune favors the bold. Call it a leap of faith," Taylor replied.

Amy's eyes hardened.

"I need skin contact," she said brusquely to Colin.

Part of his armor on his forearm slid back to expose pale skin underneath.

The upgrades only took a moment. Amy was getting faster.

Colin flexed his hands experimentally and a greedy sort of smile flitted across his face before he schooled his expression.

They may both be using each other, but Taylor felt confident that she could predict Colin's actions. As long as the benefits of their alliance outweighed the risks, he would act in his own best interest with a reassuring pragmatism.

Taylor unhooked the holy blade from her back.

"I didn't have time to make you anything special," she said, holding out the greatsword. "But it's not a loan this time. It will cut with more metaphysical weight than any mundane weapon."

Colin took it and spun it experimentally, the heavy bloodsteel now light in his hands. Between his new strength and his power armor, he should be able to wield it as easily as she did.

"Wish I had time for more analysis," Armsmaster mumbled, almost to himself.

"You'll just have to live long enough to see what makes it tick," Taylor's voice was dry. "Also, I could use a lift. My flight abilities are… sporadic, at best."

She could feel Amy rolling her eyes.

"I'll see if Dragon is amiable. Her Cawthorne suit isn't exactly designed for passengers, but I can't imagine that you need a harness," Armsmaster said. "What is the effect of your acoustic equipment?"

"No idea," Taylor said honestly.

"Excuse me?" Colin asked.

"I don't know when or what will happen if the music stops. That's the point. If I don't know, then neither does she," Taylor grinned.

"I'm not sure I follow," Armsmaster's mouth turned down at the corner.

"Imagine you're playing poker against a mind reader," Taylor said. She really didn't have time to explain this, but maybe the basics would satisfy him. "The only way to win would be to bet without looking at your cards."

"I…" Colin trailed off, looking thoughtful. "I suppose I have no choice but to trust your methods at this point."

Good. He was learning.

"Who's handling transport to triage? We need to get Amy over there before contact," Taylor said.

"Strider will take anyone assigned there as soon as he's done moving everyone in from out of town," Armsmaster pointed to a group of capes, PRT agents, and other medical staff gathered against one wall.

"I'll meet you on the roof for the final approach," Taylor said.

Colin nodded, and Taylor reached over for Amy's hand as they walked. At least the capes shying away gave them some level of privacy.

"I don't know what the hell you're planning, but… don't fuck it up," Amy said quietly.

"I'll do my best," Taylor smiled softly at her.

"I'm not going to say goodbye."

"Never," Taylor agreed.

Taylor reached down and around Amy's waist, pulling her against her lanky frame. She leaned down even as Amy tilted her head back automatically.

The kiss was softer, more gentle than the searing touch before they left the Workshop. Amy may not be willing to say goodbye out loud, but it felt like she was anyway.

Taylor barely heard the announcement, too wrapped up in the residual taste of black coffee and-

"We're about to have company, so if you're getting the hell out of dodge, you better get your ass over here."

Taylor grudgingly opened her eyes. An impatient man dressed in blue and black stood with the group Armsmaster indicated.

Strider. Independent teleporter for hire.

"Go. Do some more miracles so they don't slap a kill order on us," she grinned at her girlfriend.

"Same to you, I guess," Amy said, not sarcastic for once.

Amy's chocolate eyes were lost and conflicted again.

"No goodbyes," Taylor reminded her. "I'll find my way back. No matter what."

"Okay."

Taylor saw her eyes cloud over. It made her chest hurt.

Amy turned away and stalked over to the triage group without a backwards glance.

There was a flash and a muted thunderclap, and they were gone.

…

An unnaturally cold breeze whipped across the roof of the convention center as Taylor stared up at the oppressive clouds. The muted song of the music box was barely audible over the whistling wind.

The angel was close.

For all that she missed her, Taylor was happy that Amy wasn't here. She wasn't a fighter, and shouldn't have to be.

Taylor searched for some kind of pattern or disturbance in the clouds overhead, but they were impassive and flat.

Why was the Simurgh doing this? Did the Endbringers want anything, aside from the destruction of human civilization?

Did it matter?

Maybe. She didn't like fighting something she didn't understand.

Rachel stepped up beside her and handed her an armband.

Taylor glanced at her lieutenant as she slid the device into place.

She handed over the lantern.

"Open a door to Amy, just in case. Make sure the Simurgh doesn't get her hands on her, or the lantern."

They stared into the gray sky together.

"Take care of them for me, while I'm gone," Taylor whispered.

Rachel nodded. She didn't ask, and Taylor didn't explain.

She desperately wished that she had the right words to express her appreciation for Rachel's unwavering loyalty. It was a simple thing, but all the more valuable for it.

"Thank you," Taylor said. Hopefully, Rachel would understand.

"Give her hell, Boss," Rachel replied.

Taylor nodded. She very much intended to. Literally, depending on one's definition.

Rachel left, returning to her beasts. They would help where they could, when they could. This wasn't a good match for them, though. For one, they couldn't fly.

Taylor stood alone, her coat flowing in the breeze. She looked down at the armband.

State Name.

"Hunter."

The roof shuddered as a new presence joined her under the murky sky.

The Cawthorne towered over her, its draconic head tilted to the side as it regarded her with an interesting mix of human and mechanical awareness.

"Hello, Hunter," Dragon said in a neutral tone.

"Hey, Dragon."

Did Dragon belong to Cauldron, too?

"You gave Armsmaster a sword. Why?" Dragon demanded.

"An apology for stealing his stuff. Also, I made a better one," Taylor spun the Rakuyo in one hand, the ethereal weapon currently attached at the handle to form a twinblade with a long saber on one end and a heavy dagger on the other. "So… no hard feelings?"

"My feelings are irrelevant. Whatever your faults, this is one of the situations where your capacity for extreme violence is useful."

Taylor got the feeling that Dragon didn't trust her. She couldn't imagine why.

A grappling hook caught on the edge of the roof and Armsmaster pulled himself up and over the railing with practiced ease.

"Thirty seconds," he said.

Squads of flyers mixed with other Blasters and Brutes began to take off, positioning themselves midair or on nearby rooftops. Taylor caught a glimpse of Alexandria, Eidolon, and Legend spaced at regular intervals around the building. The Triumvirate, who fought in every Endbringer battle, functionally commanded the Protectorate, and, apparently, answered to the woman in the fedora.

They were all on the same side, though, today.

As soon as she found out just what was hunting her, Taylor had used Lisa's access to the PRT's classified files to learn everything she could about the fallen angel.

The Simurgh couldn't actually see the present. She could see the future and the past with her clairvoyant song, and the longer she remained in an area, the greater her knowledge would become. The standard strategy was to hit her as hard and fast as they could in hopes of damaging her before she got the lay of the land, and then rotate out so that no single cape was exposed to her psychic presence for too long.

Of course, the angel had been tracking Taylor's future for who knows how long, so the rules may have changed.

A new song filled the air, so slowly that it was hard to pinpoint the moment it became separate from the wind.

She could feel it, though, scratching at the corners of her brain.

It reminded her of the voices she heard while expanding her mind, only twisted and broken. She focused on her own insight to push back the madness.

"Our eyes are yet to open."

She was more than this prison of flesh. She was the stars that Amy saw in her blood, and her mind was awakened.

"Might the cosmos be very near to us, only just above our heads?"

She didn't have to win. She just had to fight until the music stopped.

"The Hunt is a dirge of farewell. May your prey rest in peace, never again to awaken to another harrowing Nightmare."

The clouds parted, and a single column of glorious sunlight backlit the fallen angel as she descended.

"A Hunter must hunt."

Taylor leapt and caught one of the spines lining the back of Dragon's suit in one hand, the spike of her stake driver finding purchase between the armored plating. She braced her good leg against the 'shoulder' of the quadrupedal suit, and had a brief flashback to Hookwolf shredding her foot.

With her other hand, she held onto her hat.

Armsmaster attached his own suit into convenient brackets clearly designed for exactly this purpose.

Giant plasma turbines locked into place overhead, taking the position of traditional wings if this were an actual dragon and not just a mech designed with Dragon's own personal flare.

Honestly. Amy called her dramatic, while Dragon was out here making her suits look like dragons? It was awesome, but come on. Double standards.

The massive engines started, and Taylor's eardrums probably would have ruptured from the roar if her auditory and vestibular systems weren't substantially altered and enhanced. She idly wondered if she even had eardrums anymore. She'd have to ask Amy, if she survived.

Dragon rocketed into the sky towards their prey, and Taylor couldn't help but let out an involuntary whoop of excitement. Hopefully, no one heard that over the noise of the jet engine right next to her.

The initial charge was a strange mix of chaotic and serene.

The capes closed on the Simurgh's location from all angles. The Endbringer looked strangely small, framed against the gray clouds as the hole in the oppressive layer closed and left her hanging suspended before them.

Despite knowing her general dimensions, Taylor expected her to be bigger. To dominate the sky like a monster of myth.

Instead, the gently swaying mass of wings was little more than a golden mote of dust, floating in the breeze.

The distance closed as the air rushed past and sent Taylor's hair whipping behind them. With her enhanced sight, Taylor caught glimpses of the humanoid form underneath the multitude of great wings.

Bone white and inhumanly smooth, the angel didn't look… alive. Like an ivory statue given a twisted type of mobility rather than an actual consciousness.

That may have been the eyes, though. They were empty, and dead, even as they regarded Taylor with alien awareness.

For the first time since her resurrection, Taylor shivered with fear. This wasn't like fighting the Empire, or Lung. This was something… Other. Something more.

If the angel didn't truly live, could it even die?

For all of Dragon's speed, she couldn't outrun the Triumvirate.

Legend appeared from nowhere, traveling in a blur of light so quickly that it barely existed even to Taylor's eyes. His iconic blue and white costume was easily visible against the gray sky. He raised his gloved hands and launched a brilliant beam of violet energy the width of a car at their enemy.

Eidolon teleported next to him and the space around them warped strangely. Suddenly, the beam leaving their vicinity was multiplied into countless pillars of violent purple light, streaking out like a kaleidoscope and lighting up the sky.

Only the original beam remained on track to collide with the angel, but Legend was known for controlling his projectiles with astute precision. Whatever power of Eidolon's was multiplying the beam, it didn't stop Legend from tracking his prey with unerring accuracy.

The kaleidoscope twisted and the beams converged on the Simurgh's position.

Her wings unfolded, and the battle began in truth.

She moved impossibly fast. It wasn't that Taylor couldn't track her, but her mind couldn't keep up with the speed involved. Several of the beams still struck true, but the angel managed to corkscrew and contort her asymmetrical form around the majority of the attack and flew towards them on golden wings of death.

Although, the Blaster attack may have been a distraction. Just as the Endbringer approached the closest group of capes, Alexandria slammed into her from above with the force of a freight train.

The Simurgh rolled with the blow, but Alexandria was relentless. She braced her feet at a joint and managed to rip off an entire wing before another of the countless feathered limbs closed around her, forcing her to retreat or become locked in the angel's embrace.

Right. Don't let her grab me. Got it.

The Endbringer was faster and more agile in the air than anything Taylor had ever seen. Before Dragon could course correct, the angel had already flared her wings again and the nearest squad of capes were shredded like tissue paper. Their bodies and blood started the long fall to the city below, the first of the scarlet storm to come.

Iron Falcon deceased, CC-7. Hallow deceased, CC-7. Skybreaker deceased…

Taylor tuned the armband out. Unless it was someone she knew or they lost track of the Simurgh between the buildings, it would only be disheartening.

According to the PRT databases, the Simurgh's telekinesis was Manton limited. She couldn't directly influence people's bodies or things they considered to be part of themselves, like their costumes. Luckily, Taylor's expanded mind was good at the required mental gymnastics, and she was, at her core, a living weapon. Her sense of Self extended to include her outfit, equipment, prosthesis, and weapon.

And, of course, her hat. Very important.

For better or worse, taking even a short second to slaughter those capes allowed Dragon to get within firing range. Cannons began to slide out from under her armor and lock ominously into place, so Taylor decided to jump ship and let the Tinker do her thing. No need to overstay her welcome.

Taylor took a deep breath, pushed off her good leg, and leapt into the empty air.

This wasn't like her flight last night or the night she fought the Empire. The full moon was still over a week away, and Amy wasn't here to refresh her on the fly.

She would need to be careful not to overtax herself.

Taylor summoned her hurricane and launched herself forward towards her prey.

The Simurgh twisted to face her immediately. Taylor was momentarily frozen in the sightless gaze of the angel.

The song's intensity grew in the back of her mind.

The Endbringer unexpectedly stuttered and seemed almost… confused.

Dragon's first volley hit with a thunderous explosion of blue plasma.

Taylor couldn't help but smile savagely as she let the wind carry her.

The music box was working.

Taylor didn't know how long it would play, and she didn't know what would happen when it stopped. She only knew what she would do when it did, but without Dinah's involvement, her part alone would do nothing.

Only Dinah knew how long the music would last, and what would happen when it stopped.

Taylor had guessed that the Simurgh either couldn't see Dinah at all, or their precognition would circle around one another in an ouroboros. It didn't really matter which.

Because Taylor's future would shift drastically the moment that the box stopped singing, the angel was clearly having difficulty predicting her properly. Her future was ever changing, fluctuating wildly based on Dinah's decisions.

Dragon's missiles knocked aside the angel's wings, leaving her pale body exposed. She was featureless, a marble mockery of a human form.

Blazing white fire and interdimensional stars engulfed the Rakuyo's blade. Taylor plunged it into the Simurgh's chest with a wild scream.

And… it had no noticeable effect. Fantastic.

The blade bit deeply into the hyper-dense flesh, but Taylor may as well have been cutting into stone for all that the angel reacted to the wounds.

Damn.

Obviously it wouldn't be that easy, but she'd been hopeful.

The Endbringer was much bigger up close and personal. Her porcelain body was easily fifteen feet tall, with countless golden wings flaring in all directions. Even the wings sprouted yet more wings, like a cursed, angelic tree.

The Simurgh's empty eyes stared into her soul from entirely too close and the song within her mind crescendoed.

Consume the Eye to ascend.

What?

Taylor decided to get the fuck away from the psychic Endbringer as quickly as possible. That was not a voice she wanted in her head. She triggered her stake driver and launched herself backwards.

Unfortunately, the Simurgh was much faster than she was.

The wings closed around her, pulling her into an inescapable embrace. Indestructible feathers collided with her spine and Taylor's world descended briefly into agony.

There was a sickening crack as her enhanced vertebrae were casually reduced to shattered glass by the Endbringer's strength. Her legs went numb.

Taylor turned to ash on instinct and reformed on the other side of the wall of wings, her broken body malformed and twisted. She plummeted towards the city below.

Stupid.

She had gotten far too used to fighting enemies who were weaker than her. Even knowing what the Simurgh was capable of, she had thrown herself into a vulnerable position immediately.

Her right arm was still mostly intact. Taylor wrenched her quick injector out of its holster and slammed a blood vial home.

Her bones popped and snapped as they returned to their assigned seats. Pins and needles flooded her legs, and the familiar euphoria of the blood replaced the pain.

The buildings were getting uncomfortably close.

A powerful hand caught her newly healed arm and Taylor almost shot them involuntarily.

Luckily, she didn't.

"What the fuck was that, Hunter?" Victoria yelled over the roaring wind.

"I miscalculated," Taylor replied as Glory Girl dragged them back into the fray.

"No shit. Hit and run, don't stick around and listen to the music," Victoria said.

"Yeah, yeah," Taylor grumbled.

Aegis deceased, CC-7. Dauntless deceased, CC-7.

Victoria's flight stuttered slightly as both of their armbands came to life.

Well… shit.

Taylor hadn't known Dauntless personally, but he seemed like an okay guy when they fought. And Aegis was a Ward. Probably not one of the ones like Sophia.

"Bitch," Victoria snarled.

Rachel isn't even here.

Maybe the stress was making her delirious.

Taylor clambered up Victoria's arm until she was crouched against her back. Victoria was not happy about this development.

"What're you-"

Taylor braced her cannon on Victoria's shoulder.

"Just keep steady for a moment. Your forcefield protects your ears, right?" Taylor asked idly while she sighted her target.

"I don't-"

Taylor fired.

The Simurgh twitched to the side at the last moment and the shot missed her head by inches. At least the consecrated iron cannonball still punched straight through three of the angel's wings before disappearing into the night.

Good.

Her attacks weren't completely ineffective, then.

The Simurgh's dead eyes were suddenly focused on her.

"Fuck," Victoria screamed. Taylor wasn't sure if she was referring to the cannon blast or the angel's stare.

The Endbringer streaked towards them.

"Didn't you play basketball?" Taylor asked.

Eidolon appeared and used some kind of gravity power to send the Simurgh careening downward, but she quickly compensated and he was forced to teleport away to avoid being shredded by a deadly fan of feathers.

"What?"

Either Victoria's hearing was damaged by the cannon fire, or she was slow on the uptake.

Lady Photon fired a barrage of laser beams which did absolutely nothing. Taylor appreciated the effort, though.

"Never mind. Throw me at her."

Victoria laughed in the face of their imminent demise.

"With pleasure."

Taylor was wrenched violently sideways in a rough circle as Victoria spun midair. The centripetal force alone would have ripped the arm of a normal human clean off.

Then Victoria let go, and the city below blurred. Taylor tumbled to meet their attacker.

Taylor called to her personal cyclone and righted herself midair just in time. Her long coat flared wide in the wind.

The angel loomed before her.

Taylor quickstepped through one wing and let the strength of the Beast fill her limbs. She could feel Lung's power raging within her, aching for more glorious violence.

She let the fury free, and wreathed her blade in ethereal stars.

Their dance was as beautiful as it was short.

Taylor sliced a wing with her Rakuyo's saber and immediately turned to ash, quickstepping through yet another of the seemingly endless appendages. She moved on instinct, her expanded mind flooded with both bestial bloodlust and eldritch insight.

A heartbeat hammered in her ears. She wasn't sure if it was hers or not.

The unearthly music continued.

The hurricane spun her out of the way of another lightning fast attack and she dove, leaving a trail of free floating feathers in the air behind her as her blade flashed in the gloom.

Taylor became ash again to avoid being turned to paste and then spun midair, slicing clean through one of the exterior wings. The Beast within her roared with approval and her strength grew.

The hurricane returned and Taylor threw herself upwards into her enemy again. She spun her Rakuyo in preparation for another pass.

The angel flared her wings and suddenly the air between them was clear.

Unfortunately, Alexandria picked that moment to join the melee. Their enemy may have difficulty seeing Taylor's future, but Alexandria had no such defenses against the angel's precognition.

Taylor idly wondered why the woman in the fedora didn't assist her. There was still so much she didn't understand about Cauldron, and it irritated her.

The Simurgh managed to catch the Triumvirate cape's arm in an ivory grip and tossed her into Taylor's path of destruction.

Her senses were keen enough to perceive the high speed improvised projectile approaching, but she didn't have many options to both avoid a deadly collision and avoid the angel.

Part of her considered just cutting Alexandria in half and continuing on her way. Dinah had told her not to trust the Tower.

She sighed, but ultimately decided not to murder Alexandria during an Endbringer truce. That would probably come back to bite her, one way or another.

Taylor turned to ash and quickstepped directly through Alexandria. The rapid teleport dropped her right into the path of another wing.

Fuck.

This time, the Endbringer hit her from an angle instead of pulling her in, so Taylor's enhanced body was thrown through the air rather than being crushed immediately. The upside was that her bones held fast, despite the impossible strength behind the blow. The downside was that she was knocked head over heels into the empty sky at an extremely respectable velocity.

Plus, that really fucking hurt. She'd never actually been hit by a bus as a human, but she imagined the experience would be similar.

Taylor tumbled wildly at a blistering speed. Air whistled in her ears, but she was too disorientated to figure out which direction she had been tossed or summon her hurricane.

Then she hit the ground, and she didn't have to wonder anymore.

…

Colin spared a brief moment to glance downwards at the trail of broken pavement and collapsed buildings that Hunter left in her wake.

She would probably be fine.

And if she wasn't…

Well, he could probably get away with taking that twinblade from her corpse, at the very least.

Dragon banked and began their next approach.

"All combatants," Dragon's voice rang over the coms in his ear. "Rotate engagement. Groups 2 and 4, regroup in section AC-3 for decontamination. Active combatants, the target has descended to 200 meters, section CD-8."

Buildings began to rip themselves free of their foundations as the Simurgh wrenched them into orbit around herself. The broken pieces of his city whipped through the sky like debris caught in a tornado, except with no wind to speak of. The air hung eerily still, despite the flying rubble.

There wouldn't be much left of Downtown when this was over. Hopefully the majority of the civilians had made it to the shelters.

Not that it would help if the angel sang in one place for too long. He could feel the insidious melody now, worming its way into his mind despite his precautions.

Colin automatically started his prediction algorithm to plot a path through the flying debris, and then immediately scrapped it. If he planned too much, the Simurgh would know what he would do before he did it.

"The only way to win would be to bet without looking at your cards."

Better to act, instead of overthinking.

He sent a ping for a rendezvous point to Dragon, then released the docking clamps and activated the servos in his armor.

Armsmaster leapt free from the Cawthorne with the combined strength of his newly enhanced body and his recalibrated power armor. He couldn't stop a smug smile from spreading over his face.

Even if he died today, it would be worth it to fight like this at least once. Whatever the hell Amy Dallon had done to him, it felt amazing.

He felt strong, in a way he never had before. Like he had finally achieved the high he had always been chasing, but never reached with his tech alone.

Armsmaster landed hard on the wall of a floating building as it sped past, letting his onboard computer calculate the trajectory so he remained upright. He sprinted along the upturned bricks and pushed off again, soaring through the open air.

Is this how Hunter feels all the time?

No wonder she was so reckless. He felt invincible.

He smashed into the glass on the side of a flying office complex and barreled straight through several cheap interior walls. Through the opposite window, he spied his enemy in the center of her maelstrom.

The window shattered and he launched himself down towards the fallen angel in a shower of broken glass.

She didn't face him, but a chunk of concrete the size of a car flew to intercept his path.

Colin fired his grappling hook and caught a piece of rebar sticking out of the projectile. The winch retracted, pulling him up and around the side of the flying rubble.

He pushed off again and brought his newly acquired greatsword down in a brutal arc towards his enemy.

The Simurgh started to twist sideways to avoid him, but Dragon's payload hit at an angle a fraction of a second before he did and knocked her back into range. The concussive force of the detonation barely fazed him, the air lighting up with the billowing fire of her plasma missiles.

Colin's blade smashed into one of the angel's many golden wings with a horrific screech of metal against indestructible porcelain. The hyper-durable flesh provided heavy resistance, but Hunter's blade forced it apart and left a long gash along the wing.

It wasn't much, but it was something. They just had to keep fighting, wearing her down piece by piece.

Armsmaster flipped sideways to avoid one of the lower wings sprouting from the angel's ankle, and then there was nothing between him and the ground hundreds of feet below.

The familiar roar of plasma engines filled his ears and he positioned his feet at the correct angle as he fell.

Dragon caught him with practiced ease, his armored boots clicking into place on the Cawthorne's back.

The rapid acceleration flattened his enhanced body against the back of his armor, but they were clear. Dragon's engines left a streak of blue plasma in the dim sky as they spiraled between the floating buildings and out of range.

"You've been holding out on me," Dragon accused in a private channel.

He didn't like hiding things from her, but she needed to have plausible deniability. If his association with Hunter went south, he didn't want to drag her down with him.

"Under-promise and over-deliver," Colin grinned.

Dragon didn't reply immediately, but he could feel her skepticism.

"You expect me to believe that you're secretly humble?" She said as they banked for the next pass. It may have been meant as a joke, but it didn't quite sound like one.

Of course Dragon knew he was keeping things from her. She was smarter than him, after all.

"No, I don't," he said honestly.

Hopefully she could read between the lines to understand why. He was reasonably sure that she would forgive him when the time came.

But they had more important things to focus on right now.

A dark figure in a tattered long coat caught his eye amid the debris.

Oh, good. She survived.

…

Taylor landed on the floating roof of one of the many buildings orbiting her prey.

What is she up to?

The Simurgh was almost ignoring them, which couldn't mean anything good. It was difficult to see what was actually happening in the chaotic cyclone of telekinetically controlled rubble that used to be skyscrapers and warehouses.

Taylor leapt again, flipping from building to building around the edge of the maelstrom. She ducked under the spiraling chunks of brick and asphalt, sliding along walls that were now ceilings and floors that were now walls.

The rotating groups of capes continued their onslaught, flashes of light and power flickering in the gloom as they fought in vain. Even with her focus elsewhere, the Endbringer was still deadly. The macabre list from the armband barely slowed.

Taylor kept moving. The others could handle the angel for a moment. She needed to figure out what the point of this maneuver was.

The music box continued to play.

She glimpsed one of her Labyrinth doors on the side of a passing building, the Messengers waving excitedly as they sped by.

At least someone's having fun.

Taylor refocused and scanned the gloom for any hints of the angel's plan.

She had to have a plan. The Simurgh may be a monster, but she was a smart monster. Unfortunately.

There.

Bits and pieces of debris were being siphoned away from the rubble, seemingly at random. Except, it wasn't random. Like Dinah said, nothing was truly random. She just required more information in order to understand the truth.

Taylor watched carefully and started to piece together a pattern to the madness.

The Simurgh was building something, amid the chaos. The storm of broken buildings was just a cover for whatever she was creating, hidden within the hurricane. Whatever it was, it wasn't at the center. It was somewhere in the surrounding cloud.

According to the PRT's files, the Endbringer wasn't actually a Tinker herself. She just borrowed the abilities of any nearby capes, once she was attuned to them.

Which meant…

She has my power.

Part of it, anyway.

Taylor felt a growing sense of dread.

The endless cyclone continued. It was pure luck that let her catch the anomaly.

Another flying building whipped overhead, and Taylor's enhanced senses picked out a familiar orange glow within. Not an out-of-control fire, more steady, but not electric. Just like…

A forge.

God dammit.

Taylor pushed off her good leg and called to her hurricane again, the weakness beginning to ache in her steel limbs. She ignored it and flew after the Simurgh's creation.

A brick facade crumbled behind her as she kicked downwards, triggering her stake driver and inching closer to her target.

She didn't bother looking for a door.

Taylor crashed through the wall of the flying building and into the warm light within.

An enormous greatsword hung in the air, still white-orange from the forge.

It was easily as long as she was tall, dwarfing her holy blade. Its length was strangely translucent in the forge-light.

I just need to destroy it, and-

The freshly forged blade shot towards her with deadly speed. Taylor threw herself to the rough wooden floor to avoid being skewered. She didn't want her blood anywhere near the unfinished weapon.

She rolled and righted herself, racing back to the hole in the wall.

Her blood ran cold.

Buildings hung still and silent in the air. The hurricane of debris slowed to a stop.

The Simurgh hadn't been trying to stab her.

She had been aiming for something else.

Someone else.

The burning blade pierced the fallen angel's own porcelain chest, quenched in whatever passed for the monster's blood. It should have continued straight through to the other side, but somehow, it didn't. The angel's back was unbroken, despite the wound to her sternum. The effect was uncanny.

Empty eyes stared into Taylor's soul with an inhuman serenity.

Her bone white hand reached down and grasped the blade's hilt, drawing it forth from its new sheath.

The sword no longer glowed orange with the heat of the forge. Instead, it shone brightly from within, a blinding white-blue moonlight that seared Taylor's eyes.

The angel brought the sword up and stretched it out to her side, both arm and blade straight, parallel to the ground far below. Her gray gaze pinned Taylor in place like an insect.

Taylor just stared back in horror at the monster's creation.

A holy weapon, of moonlight and stars.

Achingly familiar. Terrifyingly so, from within the fog.

One of her own designs, now turned against her.

Taylor understood, then, why they called her Hopekiller.

Silver moonlight flooded the broken city, and, for once, there was no comfort in its cool embrace.

The moon is bright, tonight.

…

A/N: Enter phase 2. The Moonlight Greatsword has arrived. The fight will definitely ramp up more next chapter. My apologies for the delay, it was a busy weekend. Comments, feedback, and criticism are welcome and encouraged. I don't own Worm or Bloodborne. The Old Blood has now officially rebranded under 'Hemoglobin Unlimited Inc.', the trendiest new source of eyes for the average hard-working consumer.