it's been week

"I hope you get better soon," your manager says.

"Yeah," You say, throwing your voice into an inhumanly low register. The cold you've been faking over the past week has been a perfect excuse.

You hang up and look out at the Carrier. It was once a van, but now it's… a wheel-less van with sleds attached. Six of them, specifically, long struts of stainless steel wrapped in copper wiring. Small hydraulic tubes run along the sides of the struts, allowing you to bend and angle them without any electronics.

The abandoned van is in the middle of what was once Raijin territory, now nobody's. It'll become ABB soon enough-or maybe it already is? You're not sure if Lung has disintegrated the lightning-wielding cape yet. The machinery and delicate electronics are stuffed inside the engine compartment, and you're reusing as many of the controls as possible. It's not all compatible, sadly, and you had to rip out the steering wheel for a gaming flight stick. A small segment of the windshield was covered in tinfoil, the innards of a plasma screen stretched out over it. Right now it had a little bit of a rainbow display- like a CRT that really needed degaussing- but the effect should work properly when you're phased, to help with navigation.

The inside of the van is a bit of a mess. You laid down plywood and carpet over the bottom side, but the faraday shielding was bulging in places, not completely strapped to the walls. You could spend a few extra hours drilling holes in the van, zip-tying parts of the mesh in place, that sort of thing, but it would be a waste of time. You didn't need it pretty… you needed it to work.

You make sure the important components are strapped down. The electronics are all under an extra layer of shielding, a custom magnetic field to keep a bubble of functional devices working even in subspace. Everything looks functional. Everything seems ready.

You sit down, buckle your seatbelt, hold your breath. You flick off the safety, the emergency switch to shut everything off if needed. Then you flick on the shielding. You feel the hairs on the back of your arms raise, and something in your brain can feel the magnetic field. The compass on your dash begins to twist left and right, before orienting straight forward, as it should.

You twist the knob on your oxygen tank, pulling the breathing mask around your head.

Then you flick on the motors. Lithium batteries buzz, sparks dancing from the sleds on each side of the machine.

If the floor was metal, or if you were on something metallic about the right size and shape- like a railroad track- there might be a bit of an upward push. Not enough to levitate, not with how heavy the carrier is, but enough to at least make the van buck a little bit. But instead the garage door makes a noise as it flexes slightly, a slight temporary dent.

Finally, you reach out and flick the final switch. Something deep within the van's phase-engine coughs, and begins to hum. The space around you starts to warp, slightly…

And then you press ENGAGE.

Space twists. Outside the van's windows, you stop seeing colors- it's all black and white, with hints of light purple and dark red coming into focus. The LCD screen lights up, drawing power from electric fields in the real world.

You slowly roll the thrust of the controller back, and the vehicle slowly slides backward, like it's on ice skates. You pull the joystick back slightly, and there's a slight wiggle. A jump of a half-foot upward, as if you'd jumped from one tightrope to another one, slightly higher.

Forward. Backward. Sideways. The other way. The van is levitating around the inside of the garage. There's similar slight bucks whenever you're moving east or west. The tinkertech device is clearly better at moving north or south, due to the quirks of riding the magnetic field.

You back up, further this time.

The curtain hung up for exactly this surface doesn't even move as you phase completely through it. Nothing. No problem.

You continue to practice with it, moving side to side, back and forth, until you accidentally touch the edge of the garage. You go through the concrete without a problem- and when the edge of the vehicle's phase bubble touches one of the garage's wires… the entire vehicle bucks, slightly, and you watch the garage's fuses shut off as the van rips power out through the wiring.

Oops.

You take a deep breath, slowly push it back to the center of the garage, and turn off all the switches, one after the other. You pull the door open, and make your way to the hood, ready to examine for problems. Meltdowns, explosions, radiation… Any of them means calling this off.

But if there are no problems… tomorrow night is the night.

The ziploc bag slides in your grip as you hold the sandwich with it, cramming half the turkey sub in your mouth in one go. Your mouth and jaw feels pretty uncomfortable. The oxygen tanks have been working, so far, but your body is more sensitive to discomfort than you're used to. Minor irritants are harder to ignore, since you're so much more conscious of your body.

You finish coughing down the sub, and then finish off the last of your diet coke as well. Cramming the bag into the bottle, you get up and stretch. The sun is setting, and the flat rock you're sitting on is nicely warm from the sun. You check where you are with your phone again, before turning it off and making your way back to the van. The trash goes with the rest- below the passenger seat, as is customary- and you grab your backpack.

This is your last break. The last step of your road trip. You pull open the backpack, and slowly pull on your makeshift costume.

This one is featureless. No hint as to your real identity. A bodysock, all black. A hood and cloak. A bandolier, full of the gadgets you've prepared.

Flicking everything on, the van warps through space.

Slowly, you push yourself below the ground, bathed in darkness again. You can't see anything down here- but you've been navigating carefully. You turn north, and keep an eye on the carrier's display. Soon enough, you can see two thick strands of light through the display. You go toward them, and jerk the joystick to the right as you hit it.

The carrier shudders, and soon enough… you're riding along the strands of light above you.

After all, why ride atop a set of train tracks when you can ride below them just as easily?

New York City goes nearly as far down as it goes up, it turns out. Subterranean cables. Metal pipes. Storm drains, sewers, electronic substations. All of it is all over the place. It's almost a maze, especially when you can only see it through an amplified of magnetic fields

But you knew it would be like this. You've prepared. Being a fake infobroker gave you access to more people than you expected. Old connections, Thinkers, villains you knew you could bribe for information.

This is your first real, prepared outing. And you're determined to do it perfectly. In, out. No problems. No issues.

You bite your lip, take a deep breath, and shove the thrust forward.

The van bucks and bounces, the world's bumpiest road- as you shudder upward, springing through the earth as you phase up and into the city from below. You keep going, your angle perfect. The math runs through your head, your sense of position. You estimate as best you can. Every time your vehicle bumps into underground cables, or through something metallic, it bumps and shudders, speeding up or slowing down. The charge around the edges of the van- building up in the faraday cage- are strengthening, static charge building. The hair on the back of your neck rise, and you can feel the charge. Goosebumps roil along your arms.

Then you see it. The center. Not officially a prison, but effectively one. You can see the various cells, each of them separated from eachother. Clusters of brighter light around them, evidence of either tinkertech or more powerful defenses. You count them, cross-referencing them with the blueprint you'd found of the building. You're coming at it from the north, so you mentally flip the blueprint- and there. You've found her cell.

There's a loud rattling sound. Then a screech. The sides of your vehicle bounce and scrape and shudder as you phase back into reality. The forces behind dephasing is trying to push you out of the walls, out of the floor, and you allow it. Eventually, you slow to a stop in the middle of the hallway.

You glance out the passenger side window, and there you can see String theory's cell. It's all concrete, with metal bars running along the entrance. It's wide enough and large enough that there's no privacy there. Barebones. Anti-tinker procedures, of course. You can't even get a toilet since they're scared you'll brew acid in there or something.

String Theory had been pacing, gnawing on her nails- but now she stands frozen, staring at you with a kind of mixture of ferocity and surprise. A combination you didn't know could exist.

Slowly, you roll down the window, completely conscious of how weird it must be to see a van materialize in the hallway of a detention center.

"Hey there," You drawl, after slowly rolling down the window. "Need a lift?"

String Theory's eyes boggle, and then the alarms go off.

You reach into your bandolier, grabbing a small canister. You pull the pin, and heft it forward, in front of the van. Another one, backward. Smoke begins to billow through the hall, both behind and in front of you.

You make your way back to the side of the van, and open the side door. The real doors won't be able to swing outward, after all. You pull a very special set of double-sided tape you'd prepared for this.

"I was starting to think you'd take my money and run with it," String Theory said.

"Timing is important, you know," You drawl. You're wrapping tape around the bars. It's bulky and doesn't want to bend very much, but you force it into place anyway.

"... You're not my merc." She says, after a moment.

"Nope," You say, You wrap a second set of tape around the bottom bars- and flick out a lighter. The fuses at the base of the tape begins to burn. "Be right back. Close your eyes."

You scramble to the front seat again, and engage the phase engine just before the tape- and the thermite inside- begins to burn.

You miss the lightshow. Almost entirely. In fact, you only know it's done when you see the metal of the bars start to shift. You disengage it again, and scramble to the van's side door. With a hefty kick, you knock in the bars. "Alright, get in."

"... Who the hell are you?"

You roll your eyes. "We don't exactly have time. Unless you *want* to go to the birdcage?"

Something set into the ceiling- a tinkertech EMP generator- suddenly pulses, flickering and sparking. The lights go out, but your van is untouched. You reach up to tap the dome light.

String theory stares for a moment, and then nods, clambering in.

You rush back to the front seat. The homemade smoke grenades are already fading, and you can see armed guards holding weapons out. No parahumans, thankfully. You sit down seat and pull on a breath mask.

Before the guards can open fire, you engage the phase engine again. The entire vehicle bucks, phasing out of existence. String theory almost falls over, clinging to the back of your seat.

"What's with the mask?" She asks.

"Limited Oxygen." You call through your mask. "You'll need one."

String Theory settles down in the passenger seat, fingers tapping on the dash. She looks around at your tinkertech, and gives you a fierce grin. You pick up a mask, and hold it out to her.

"You really know how to impress a girl," She purrs, and pulls the facemask on. You twist the knob, and she immediately knows how to breathe with it on. She must have had experience with this sort of thing before.

"Say, where's your place?" You ask.

She takes a deep breath, and- as you descend into the ground again- she loses consciousness, knocked out.

Breakout Results: 69

"Damnit, you asshole. You rigged the oxy tank." String Theory glares. You shrug. She struggles to break loose from the bonds. "Damn it. I even checked the valve, but you misadjusted it intentionally."

It's been a frantic few days since the breakout. You couldn't exactly feed her and keep her unconscious, and you couldn't sustain the knockout gas long enough… But your power seems quite happy with you. Your Leech device was easy to make. Almost convenient. You found yourself skipping portions, your hands nearly working on their own. As if your power knew you were in a hurry, and wanted to see you finish it as much as you did.

She's sitting inside the van, with the faraday shielding still as active as it can be, in order to prevent her from being tracked- even though you're pretty sure you were able to remove and discard the three she had on her.

You haven't slept this whole time. The last of your money went into grabbing these last few parts.

"This isn't exactly my idea of a good date, either," She snaps. "Well, actually it is, but ideally you'd be in the chair. C'mon. Let me out."

She hasn't been able to break out, but that's not without trying. You'd ended up putting her hands in thick mittens, taping her fingers together in case she was able to break loose. It's not humane, but it's a way to keep a giant moon-destroying laser from destroying your face. The two of you are in a van in a long-abandoned warehouse, somewhere in the middle of the wilderness. Nowhere near either New York or Brockton Bay. A nice middle location.

"What did I even do?" She asks. You don't respond. "Family member get caught up in one of my attacks? I understand if you're pissed, but that's no reason to-" She freezes.

You stand up, holding the completed version of the Tinker Leech Device.

"... Oh. Shit. Okay. I get it." She says.

"You get what this does?" You ask.

"I mean, look at it." She says. "It's got a lot of hints from Cranial's work. Some stuff I've never seen. Scanning emitter. Eight minutes and five seconds to locate… what? Only thing I can think of that you'd need to locate would be the Pollentia Gemma."

"Yeah," You say.

"You're scanning my power," She says. Then she pauses, and smirks. "Copying it? Oh, hell yeah! You built this right now. I'm your first! You went all this way to get to little ol' me, didn't you?"

"... I mean, you are the most powerful I could find on short notice," You say.

She cackles. "I'll definitely take that as a compliment. In fact, if I live through this, I just wanna say no hard feelings. You went to me before you went to like, Uppercrust, or Big Rig. And if I had the tech to boost myself the way you can, you bet I'd have used it."

Then she pauses.

"Speaking of, if I do live, any chance I could buy that off you?"

"Uh, no." You respond.

"Fair." She responds.

Your gut is roiling. You look at String Theory, captured and under your control. On the radio, even now, you're still hearing about the breakout.

"... Sorry." You say, and strap the helmet to her head. She just shrugs, and beams at you. You pull your own helmet on, and flick the switch.

You're not sure how long it's been. The sun is down again. Your body- even if you've got a superhuman biology- is wrecked. Your limbs hurt. You've been moving and acting for days now, just tinkering.

Your head is pounding.

String theory's eyes flutter open.

She's alive. But you can taste it, somehow- You can feel a kind of extra presence in your power, a boosted burst of strength. You can evaluate how long it takes to build things, precise dates and times. How long your van will function without repairs. How long your designs will take to build. There's a presence, an awareness in your brain.

"How do you feel?" You ask.

"I have a harsh friggin' headache, but that could be because I haven't had water since yesterday." She drawls. "But my memories and my sanity all seems here. Nothing jostled loose upstairs."

"... Can you still tinker?" You ask.

"... Uh, would you let me go if I said no? " String Theory asks.

"You can still Tinker." You say.

"Yeah." She responds. "Sixty-three seconds and I'd be able to cut myself free with a monowhip."

You sigh. You honestly expected her to like, lose her powers. Or die. Or something. Not just wiggle in the chair and leer at you.

"So, uh…" She trails off. "Now what?"

Affinity increased by 5! You have gained two tags and the following Trait:

Doomsday: A weapon variant based around large-scale destruction. Any thing that damages more than a building is considered a Doomsday Weapon.

Megaproject: Any extremely powerful tinkertech device. This involves long-term construction. Megaprojects are much more expensive and take more time than most to construct.

It's About Time: Each time you complete a Design, that design will be granted a 'Countdown'. After each Build Phase, the Countdown of all designs decrease by one. If you construct a Design that currently has a Countdown of 0, it is constructed at minimum misfire chance, regardless of how many keywords of that design you have already used. If it is not constructed after it is at 0, that Design loses its Countdown.You stare at String Theory for a long moment.

"... Fuck it." You say, and start undo her bindings.

"Wait, really?" She asks.

"Hey, you promised no hard feelings," You say and shrug.

"The math works out. My shitstain lawyer told me I'd probably have the Birdcage. Breaking me out the way you did more than makes up for a little bit of kidnapping. I mean, if I had little ol' me all to myself I'd be tempted, too."

You roll your eyes, and she snickers.

"So, what's your name? I don't recognize the tech." As soon as you have one of her feet free, she kicks it up over her knee, starting to undo the ties on her wrist with her toes. By the time you get her other hand and foot undone, she'd freed herself the rest of the way.

"Well, the tech's definitely not done yet. Don't take this piece of shit as my real work," You say. It comes out a little more heated than you expected, and String Theory's eyebrows shoot up. "My normal work usually looks a lot better."

"That's what all the guys say," She drawls, pulling herself to her feet. She stretches.

"... Icarus," You say, finally.

"You know it was Daedalus who-"

"Yeah, I know," You scoff. "But since my two mottos seem to be 'this is stupid' and 'fuck it', Icarus fits way better than Daedalus."

"Hah!" She beams. "Icarus, huh? Where are we right now?"

"Middle of nowhere. Somewhere in Massachusetts. It's near the train tracks, so-"

"Magnetism." She says. "Hence the struts and wiring. Faraday cages too. This is a weird-ass phasing tech, though. How'd you get it?"

"Someone in my town has a power like it. I just extrapolated."

"Oh! That's why it's so specific. Phasing breaker state. The magnetism stuff is based on the subspace's own physical laws," She says. "... How long did this take you?"

"The build? Week and a half. That's why it looks so shit." You say. "The design took a few days."

"... How haven't I heard of you before?" She asks; she sounds impressed.

"Too busy with your own projects, maybe," You shrug. "So, do you want a burner phone? I've got one."

"Nice. How about clothes?" She asks, and starts to unbutton her jumpsuit. You look away reflexively. "I can dye this thing if I really need to, but I don't want to go starkers for the time it'll take to dry."

"U-uh, yeah, I- I've got a few changes of clothes." You say. "Check, uh, the bag under the passenger seat."

"Next to the explosives?" She asks. Before you can respond, you reflexively duck- a clump of orange jumpsuit, all tied together, sails over your head. "Nice reflexes. Ooh, did you stuff this tape with thermite?"

"I didn't know how much I'd need," You shrug. "And it can always come in handy later."

"Not even tinkertech. That's got style," She says. You hear the clothing rustle, and then a zip. She must have taken your hoodie. "Alright, I'm good. You're a skinny guy, though, I expected this to be baggy on me."

You turn back to see her winding some of your thermite tape around one of her arms, and the hoodie seems to fit her depressingly well. She gives you a cheeky grin, and winds another strip of explosive tape around her arm. She's still wearing the bottom of the jumpsuit on her lower half- which makes sense, there's no way she'd fit into your pants.

"Just in case," She says. You toss her the burner. "You have an account with Number Man?"

"Of course, who doesn't?"

"Well, I paid my guys to break me out if I got caught," She says, flipping it open. She's immediately tapping on it one-handed, holding the phone upsidedown. "And since they didn't do shit, I've gotta give you the payment instead. Once I get to my backup lab, anyway."

"I mean, I was mostly doing it for me," You say. "But I'm not about to complain about getting paid for it."

"The math works out!" She chirps. "Alright, my ride's picking me up. You should probably head out first, in case they're backstabbing me."

"Wouldn't you want some backup?"

"Nah, I've got this tape. And the drawstring from the hoodie. And a bunch of extra bolts and wires you had in your backpack. Eight seconds for a three-kaycee lightsaber, and then I'll have their ride. And their heads."

You glance at it, and consider.

"That would only last like thirty six seconds though, wouldn't it?" You ask.

She runs her tongue along her teeth.

"That's how long I'd need." She says. Then raises an eyebrow. "You'd last longer than that, though, wouldn't you?"

You're glad you're wearing a mask that covers your face as you feel your cheeks burn.

"So, I'm going to go." You say. "Need anything else?"

"I'll be fine," She says. "Hit me up whenever. I'll be west coast for the next few months, though. Gotta build up my backup lab all over again."

"Oh, yeah, one more thing," You say. "At least in the interest of future cooperation. Phone?"

She tosses it to you. You snap a photo of a particular page of your notebook, and toss it back to her. She takes a look and snorts.

"... Hah! This is some Lab Rat shit." She says. "This'll take a year to fully execute, but I won't say no to some incremental boosts."

For a moment, you wonder why it would take so long for her. It dawns on you a moment later; it must be outside of her specialty. You've never heard of String theory working with anything wet, so that makes sense.

"Thanks, Icky." She responds.

"No problem, String Bean," You respond. That seems to throw her off for a moment, and her cheeks go red and splotchy.

While she struggles to come up with a response, You clamber into the phase carrier, and begin booting it all up. You glance out the window and wave, as String Theory flips you off in return. You flip the switch to enter phase-space, and then you're gone.

"-was set to face trial that same day with the strong possibility of being sent to the infamous Baumann Parahuman Containment Center. This was anticipated to bring closure to numerous ongoing investigations and provide justice for her victims. With String Theory now on the loose, law enforcement agencies are on high alert, mobilizing resources and conducting a widespread manhunt to apprehend both the supervillain and the unknown parahuman responsible for her escape. Meanwhile, questions swirl regarding the motives behind the daring jailbreak and the identity of the enigmatic individual who orchestrated it."

The radio continues to blare as you continue making modifications to the phase carrier. Originally, it had been just a white-panel van with a bunch of sledding struts attached to it, but you've spent the last few days of your free time fixing it up to your own proper standards. The cables are clearly labeled, hydraulics tightened, and most of the van's actual infrastructure has been replaced with pieces of your own design. It looks closer to a space shuttle, which since it doesn't need wheels, actually makes it a little more space-efficient. The faraday cage is actually part of the chassis now instead of strapped to the inside. Beyond that, you've adjusted the struts and the angles, and made minor tweaks to the phase engine, enough to change how it looks when used.

It isn't perfect, but it's enough that if someone sees the Phase Carrier in operation they might not immediately finger it as the same device that was used to break String Theory out.

Speaking of String Theory, you haven't heard from her over the past few days. Number Man sent you an email about being sent money for 'services rendered'. You haven't heard about any orbital lasers, or other String theory style weapons or attacks. Which is for the better, really. You've heard a bit about Cauldron's boogeyman, and if she was really going to cause a problem, she'd get a visit.

You immediately spent the first chunk of change into getting yourself a lab. Your old one, specifically, underneath the old theater just north of the river. It's huge, and pretty secret. Nobody found it in the years you had it, and it was fine until it started leaking after Leviathan.

You take a few steps back from the Phase Carrier (which had been Phased up into the basement through the aquifer), and nod. It's looking good. Fully maintained after the almost ten hours of straight use, too. It's remarkably power efficient, too.

The Tinker Leech Device has been fixed up, too. Wires tied away and secured, components more heavily armored to protect it from damage. Even a better strap to keep it in place on someone's head.

You almost can't believe it. You broke String Theory out. She wouldn't end up in the Birdcage because you were able to do it alone. The protectorate and PRT have no idea who you are. They don't even think a Tinker was involved, not really. Saying they had evidence of 'mundane technology usage', as if that somehow prevented it from being a tinker that was involved. So right now they're looking at a really weird kind of Shaker or Mover, and you're basically home free.

You've been in the past for over two months now. Your power seems happy with you, though not ecstatic. You've built some really useful stuff over the past few weeks, and your body is now in a superhuman state.

You've got to go back to work soon, but now you still have to figure out what you're going to do. With String theory's payment, you have some resources now. You could just stay home and make use of your winnings. Settle down.

Or you could double down. Keep going, keep the momentum going. Dive back into danger and stupidity. Blasto's still in Boston, after all, and there are minor types of tinkers all over the place you could start trying to look into- maybe catch a tinker or two before they become officially known…

One thing you do know is that with your new boosts, you'll definitely be doing some more design work.

Affinity: Slightly Fond (9)

Resources: 7It's been a week since String Theory's escape, and you decide it's time to figure out Icarus's proper costume. Something that can scale with you. Something that can make use of multiple kinds of technologies- mundane and advanced.

It needs to be adaptive, first of all. Able to handle your new agility and strength without holding you back. It can't be like a normal suit of armor, due to that. You'll need to dip into materials science for this. Some kind of plastic, or smart matter. Polymers and latex. Multiple layers. Something that can take damage, insulate you from electric shock. Protect you from corrosion, toxins, energy. Hell, with the right latching system, you could make it airtight.

You tap your finger on the diagram you're doodling. It's no more a blueprint than a set of chemical equipment, a series of processes you'll have to put the plastic through to strengthen it to the levels you'll need. Color scheme is simple. Black, in case you need to use it in the dark. The metal components will be a custom alloy, of course, since you're burning materials on this device anyway. Make it look bronze, almost golden. As an underlayer, it looks good. A hint of greek, a hint of space-age futurism.

A burst of inspiration has you drawing designs for the control points. They'll double as anchor points. With enough of them, you'll be able to anchor any sort of device you want in place. It doesn't even have to be a tinkertech piece. You should be able to anchor mundane plating to it, give a little rigidity to the suit's squish.

But if you make it adjusting, shifting on command… A network of control ports. Adaptive modules that can link and unlink to devices. Like a plugsuit.

You find yourself doodling the core electronics to the device. Needles. Thin ones, conductive. Along the spine, armored and heavier than the rest of the plastic pieces. Connects directly to the spine. Interface, allows conscious control of anything connected to the hardsuit. Technically cybernetics… but it'll extend your control. Allow you to use the boosts to your nervous system to consciously control… whatever. Anything, maybe. You can work the connection ports into whatever you build, from now on. It'll just be mundane tech, should be easy enough…

As the layers of polymers and cable arrangements fit together, you lose yourself in your designing. You find yourself smiling. This is how it should be. No worrying. No stress. Just tinkering.

You can't believe how fun this is. Now that you have most of a design for a real costume, Your motorcycle jacket and pads are a bit restricting, but just running and jumping like this- from rooftop to rooftop- is just freeing. The satchel holding your equipment on your hip flops loosely, but you already have plans to strap it to your thigh properly to keep it from bouncing around.

"Hey. Asshole." You hear over your shoulder.

Your heart skips a beat, and it takes everything you have to keep from jumping and freaking out.

"Stalker," You drawl, slowly turning to take in her figure. She'd added a cape and hood to her costume, and spraypainted her hockeymask pure black. You note approvingly that she'd used velcro to attach the cape to her shoulders, so that nobody could snag it and choke her with it.

She's pointing her crossbow out at you, and then sighs and lowers it.

"... You're unshakeable, aren't you?" She asks. She still sounds a little impressed.

"Yep," You lie.

"Cloak trick works."

"Course it does," You respond with a shrug. "And the eye thing?"

"I haven't had a chance to test it," She sighs. "What are you doing?"

"Keeping an eye on the Archer's Bridge Merchants," You say.

"Those drug dealers?" She asks, and you nod.

"What about you? This isn't near Empire territory."

Shadow Stalker doesn't respond for a moment, and you recognize the hesitation. The answer was a hint to her identity- she was likely on her way toward her target, or something.

"Nevermind," You say. "Not important."

"Course it's not," She says.

"Good luck hunting. Shoot a nazi for me, will you?" You ask.

"Gladly," Shadow Stalker responds, and you can hear the smile in her voice.

You might not be a gamer anymore, but it's still a strong videogame tradition to hurt Nazis. You can't wait until you have the tech to take them on directly.

She throws herself into the air, spreading her cloak, and sails backward, drifting into shadow as she rides the air.

You know, considering what you know about her power, you could probably build her thruster pack- no. You already used that slot. Maybe later.

You crack your neck, and continue leaping from rooftop to rooftop. You know of some of their hideouts- and where they'll be in the future, at least- so all you need to do is follow them to the source.

"Go fuck yourself!" You hear a screech. A woman's angry yelling, drunk and pissed. You flinch at the sound, suppressing some memories. You pull your ear away from the window at the top of the high-ceilinged garage.

"You don't tell me to fuck myself, bitch." Skidmark snaps back- and you hear a resounding slap. "I'm the one in charge here!"

"I just… I need the car, baby." Squealer says. "I don't know why. I just need to get it open. I can fix it. Make it better. I can't help it!"

There's a moment of silence.

"You sayin' you're a tinker now, Sherrel?"

"I don't know what the hell that is," She responds, subdued. "I just know that I just need some parts. I know the guy who owns this place owes you money. We can just…"

"Alright, tell you what. I'll let you do whatever you need in this place. David won't bitch to you about taking apart his car no more. I'll make sure he don't."

"Thanks, baby."

You hear some kissing. Then some clothes getting undone.

You pull your ear away from the window, and wait. There's some things you really don't want to listen in on.

Eventually, you see Skidmark stepping out of the garage, locking the door behind himself, and he begins a short walk down the street. Back to the hideout you'd followed him from.

Sherrel. She's not Squealer yet. She doesn't even really know she's a tinker. Once they've confirmed she is, they'll start guarding her. This is pretty much the ideal moment to have found her. She's as vulnerable as she'll be.

Now you just have a decision to make. You could run back to the lab, grab your Leech device, come back and stick her in it. Or you could grab her instead. Use the Phase Carrier, capture her, and drop her off somewhere far away. Away from the Merchants. Give her a chance at a future outside of them.