8.5

Still December 29th, 2010

Traveling under the effect of Vista's power was an… interesting experience.

And different from being moved along with Hanzo's four-dimensional flight.

See, whenever my geriatric turtle PULLED me along, it FELT like I was still moving in a straight line, without skipping a single step of the distance - except, whenever I was moved across one of the countless 'wrinkles' in the 'fabric' of three dimensions, the time when I was not in full contact with the conventional planes sorta-didn't-count, resulting in this time dilation effect that made it trivial for me to dodge raindrops and plasma gunfire.

But Vista's power had nothing to do with the fourth dimension. Instead, it was as if she stretched and pinched the fabric of the conventional planes, creating and smoothing over 'creases' and 'wrinkles' as she pleased. There was no time dilation as we walked across the city, skipping over hundreds of feet in a single step - which made the experience just a tad jarring to me.

I was fairly certain that essentially, Vista's power was a 3.5-dimensional approximation of a true four-dimensional movement - enough to allow fast traversal over long distances, but not enough to move her OFF the conventional planes. Which was… a weirdly hard limitation. Was it because when she Triggered, baby Vista had no concept of more than three dimensional axes? Or was it some sort of a hard limiter on her power? And if so, was it imposed by the nature of powers, or something else?

And how did it all relate to my own power?

The Floating Engine pencil back at the warehouse made a note of this in my 'power research notebook'.

When we arrived to the PRT building, Vista brought us to the roof entrance, meant for helicopters and flying capes. The helipad was currently empty - pretty sure it was only used for inter-city transports. Also, there was a squad of armor-clad PRT troopers guarding this entrance and its pretty heavy-looking door. Which was…

Which was just enough security to turn around any flying parahuman not looking for trouble, but not enough to push back against any determined superpowered assailant - not the likes of Oni Lee and Purity.

We went through a few more reinforced doors, all with different security measures - maybe they were made out of tinkertech materials? Although, the walls and floors looked like regular concrete, so it didn't really matter how tough the doors were. Security was always only as good as its weakest link, after all.

Though…

If a flying cape wanted to get into the building, they could probably just punch through one of the windows instead? Meaning, all this security theatre was likely intended for groundbound enemy forces dropped via helicopter or something. And maybe all the PRT troopers and heavy doors were there to buy just enough time for the personnel to move to a panic room?

Overall - just like when I went through the main entrance, I was not impressed with their security. For all the image of a literal fortress that the PRT building tried to project, its actual defences felt too much like a polite suggestion than anything else.

A three-pronged attack, one with troops entering through the main entrance, one through the back door, and one through the roof could probably lay waste to the entire facility, even if the attackers were barely-trained gangsters. Though then again, these corridors were fairly narrow and winding, meaning a team of operatives could-

Gah, STOP!

Inhale - hold for three - exhale.

THIS was the exact reason I tried to avoid reading into parahuman stuff. It was entirely too easy for my brain to start dissecting threats, their defences and create possible countermeasures - including possible applications of my already built tinkertech, and what I could create to better my odds.

I vehemently refused to feed this part of my mind, because it was the mindset of a cape, for whom everything was a potential - or current - threat, something to be prepared for, something to be eliminated at the slightest provocation. It was the mindset of a Taylor who trudged along dark alleyways, looking for the next mugger, skinhead or druggie to beat up.

I was better than this.

"You okay?" Weld's hand was firmly placed on my shoulder. It was fairly grounding.

"Yeah. Just thoughts," I shrugged. He simply nodded, and we continued our walk.

We arrived to Director Piggot's office not a minute later. The situation inside was nearly identical to the last time I was here. Same barely decorated room, same half-wilted (or three-fifths-wilted by now) plant, a new mug ('I heart kids', except the H and R were nearly entirely faded), and no ugly blueberry armour in the corner this time around. The woman herself looked simultaneously better and worse - she had lost a bit of weight (in a healthy way), but was also sporting an even more impressive set of eyebags than before.

And her gaze did not change either.

"Thank you for bringing Miko of Paradise," she told the teenage capes. "You may leave."

"Got it. See you, Miko," the metal boy smiled, exiting the room. Vista was just behind him, throwing this weird glance my way before also disappearing behind the door.

As the door clicked, the director pulled out that same tinkertech device she used before, and activated it, supposedly jamming all conventional (and most tinkertech) comms and ways of surveillance. It did nothing to my own connection to my network, but then again - I was using Karmic wavelengths for it. Which, from my knowledge, only I had access to.

"Before we get to the point," the director looked at me plainly as I sat across the table from her, "your little project, whatever it is, has caught the attention of the PRT as a whole, and without the assistance of the Think Tank - which is useless in anything pertaining to your persona - SOME people are already raising alarms."

"It's only been two days since I started working on those," I furrowed my brow. I thought I had more time than this.

"Yes. And we have an inter-branch meeting whenever you do anything that warrants such attention. Which is every time you do practically anything in public. ESPECIALLY if we are not informed of what it is. So could you PLEASE explain, what exactly you are doing to the city in a way that I could bring to THEM?"

Sigh.

"Okay, so basically… think of every lot as a laser tag arena. Except, there are personal Barriers in place protecting the participants, Barrier Boxes protecting the audience, everyone is given a non-damaging blaster power, and if you have a superpower, you are allowed to use it. The participants hold seasonal tournaments to determine the Arena Champion, and regular smaller tournaments for the right to challenge them. Ah, and there's a donation box at every arena that the audience might contribute to, and whoever's the champion at the end of the season gets everything in said box."

"Hold on… there are lots in the north and south of the Docks, north and south Downtown, in the Shantytown and on the Boardwalk…" The director narrowed her eyes. "You are trying to establish a sports version of a turf war."

Oooooh, she understood that? So easily?

"Exactly. The capes can't get enough of their turf wars and gang-on-gang violence, so why not turn it into a spectacle for the people? The capes get to flex their powers in a safe environment, regular people get scheduled spectacle fights and the city gets another boost to its tourism industry. And best of all-" I gave the director my most personable smile. She shivered for some reason. "As long as a cape limits their destructive power use to these arenas, I don't have to come over and deal with them."

"I see…" she nodded mutely. "So, even Protectorate heroes can participate in this?"

"The Protectorate, the Wards - hell, even regular people. Like I said, everyone in the arenas gets a personal Barrier and a non-damaging Blaster power. Sure, flight or superspeed would help, but so would coordinated tactics and marksmanship."

"And are YOU going to participate?" the woman looked at me strangely.

"No. I have better things to do. Ordinary Witch, Brightbug General and Ghostly Swordsman might, though. And there WILL be a stipulation that if one person or a team holds control over every arena in the city, they are allowed to challenge me." The jackpot for that endeavour would probably consist of both parties donating the same, agreed upon sum, plus anything the audience donated on top of that. I could do a single exhibition match per season for that kind of money.

"And how much of this information can be brought to the rest of the PRT?"

"I mean, I was planning to tell you anyway in less than a week… though maybe keep the 'turf war' part out of it? I'll need to see how effective this part of the plan is, and if it needs adjusting."

"Understood," she nodded. "With this project in mind… I think it makes things easier for the other matter we need to discuss."

With that, a thick manilla folder landed on the table in front of me. With a glance at the director, I opened it.

"There's been a push for a transfer from the Boston branch," she explained. "A Ward who triggered during the last Behemoth attack, and expressed a strong desire to challenge you specifically in battle. Strong enough that there's a high chance she'd go AWOL if this transfer was postponed much longer. And since I might as well be the only one in the organisation who knows your secret identity, my colleague from Boston did not consider that her background might cause serious issues."

I stared at the photo in front of me.

Back at me, stared the photo of Emma Barnes.

She changed nearly as much as she stayed the same. Still conventionally attractive, but clearly paying far less attention to her looks, uncaring of all the small imperfections she usually masked with the makeup. Her hair a bit longer, in a crown-like braid - clearly someone else's handiwork, she never had the patience nor manual dexterity for braiding. Her eyes…

…

"She was supposed to still be in a mental institution," I stated plainly.

"From what I heard? She was, up until Behemoth's lightning crashed through the building and buried her alive. She was excavated a couple of days later, and by that time, she'd already Triggered."

"And they just… put her into the Wards, instead of continuing with the therapy?"

"They did. Look at the third page."

On said page, was a mental evaluation. 'Superiority/inferiority complex', 'desire to prove herself above all else' and 'overwhelming aversion to all forms of therapy' were listed, among the others. She… actively resisted any attempts to get her on the path towards fixing her mental health…?

"It was either the current arrangement, or sending her to the Parahuman Asylum," the director noted.

"And the Asylum is basically incarceration with little to no hope of recovery," because of course it was.

"And then, there'd be the issue of actually containing her, considering her powers," she added. At my glance, she pointed to the folder. "Page seven."

Her power was… a Breaker state that transformed her into literal soup of her choosing, and allowed her to infinitely generate more soup from any part of her body? Soup that had the exact caloric and nutrient content and taste of its non-parahuman-generated counterparts? There was a note on some power control issues (that resulted in this power being declared weak), but they were likely due to the lack of experience and understanding. And as for her potential...

On one hand, it was an extremely useful power - if its user was mentally stable, having her tour disaster and food shortage sites - hell, even soup kitchens - could help thousands of people at a time.

But on the other…

"Whoever wrote her power analysis should be fired. Apart from her weakness to electrical currents, she's basically conventionally unstoppable."

There was a reason Leviathan tried to create enough water to burst his four-dimensional prison. As long as conventional physics were in place and with enough pressure built up, 3D water could tear apart any 3D substance in existence. And with a power as versatile as hers, it was only a matter of time before she found a way around her weakness. Even off the top of my head… Vegetable oil was horrible at conducting electricity - so how much could a soup contain before it didn't count as soup?

My tinkertech was probably one of the few things in existence that could reliably defeat (or imprison) her. But… but I was NOT putting my former best friend into an unbreakable, extradimensional jail. Not if I could help it.

Not unless she FORCED me to do so.

"What do you want done about this?" director Piggot asked carefully.

"I… do you have more info? Maybe interviews with her? And power testing results?"

"Here's a flash drive with everything I had access to." The small device was set on the table in front of me. The woman was well-prepared. "And you can take the folder as well."

"Just… proceed with the transfer. Better to have her where we know where she is," I said, putting the flash drive into the manila folder, and the folder into my sleeve. "And yes, her participation in the Arenas would buy us some time. I'll need to consult my people to… hopefully, find a way to resolve this."

"For what it's worth, good luck."

January 10th, 2011

My life became so busy (bordering on crazy) lately that going back to school felt like going on a vacation. For just a precious few hours, I could at least TRY to stop thinking about everything that had to be done, perform the scarce minimum required of a well-accomplished high school student, and join in on the stupidity of the simple conversations at my table during lunch breaks.

Amelia was even interacting with me more lately! Although her sister was throwing weird glances my way for some reason. I kinda did not care, since I just wanted to use these mandatory schooling breaks to relax. Not that I could really force my brain to fully reset with everything that was going on.

For one, New Year celebrations were taken REALLY seriously at Shinto shrines, so for the first few days of school I was still practically in an undead zombie mode. Not only was December 31st busy - but so were the first three days of January, as Shinto practitioners had a tradition of starting the year with a visit to the nearest religious site - hell, on the night of the New Year, Brockton Bay Jinja DID NOT CLOSE AT ALL, because of yet another cherished Japanese tradition of witnessing the first sunrise of the year.

Of course, as a miko-in-training and the lowest on the jinja totem pole, most of my duties consisted of menial work, so that better trained mikos could tend to the visitors, make omamori and do all the really important things around the shrine. And given how it was an all-hands-on-deck situation, the LEAST I could do was to power through the entire stretch of time on nothing but energy drinks and spite.

By the end of it all, I felt so worn out and done with EVERYTHING that if any single cape or ganger in the entire city of Brockton Bay had done so much as breathe at a civilian wrong, they would've needed a closed matchbox funeral.

Luckily for everyone involved, nothing of that sort happened (to my knowledge).

And that's to say nothing of the bombshell that Director Piggot dropped on my lap beforehand. Because yeah - Emma was being transferred to Brockton as a Ward hellbent on defeating Miko of Paradise. Meaning, I had to deal with THAT can of worms somehow - a fact I could not banish from my thoughts even if I tried.

Rather than try (and likely fail) to resolve it all by myself despite my horrible, horrible schedule, I decided to ask for help. The idea was… not simple per se, just a multi-step one: first, have Coil 2 analyse the contents of the manilla folder, then bring her findings and deductions to Lisa to see what she thought of them. Then, bring the results (as well as the manilla folder) to Dee to consult with her, and then have another brainstorming session with Lisa.

Anyway, I had a meeting with Coil 2 yesterday, and it kinda added another step to this plan.

"Okay, so first I want to clarify," she shifted uncomfortably, "I am well aware that if I try to do anything with any of this info without your go-ahead, you're gonna invent the Torment Nexus just to stick me into it."

I looked at the villainess mutely. I did NOT plan on doing any of this 'Torment Nexus' stuff, at least as far as I consciously knew. Though if it helped Coil 2 keep her metaphorical hands to herself, might as well not object.

"A-a-anyway. This inferiority-superiority complex thing from her evaluation is on point, but it started even before she triggered. Likely caused by something going horribly wrong, but not wrong enough for her to Trigger - which isn't really a broad category, to be honest. Some kind of a moment where she lost control and was at a mercy of someone else, that caused her to seek ways to re-establish that control in her life at all costs."

"You think… she was attacked by one of the gangs?"

"Most likely. Not Merchants - too early for them - so either the ABB, the Empire, or an independent jackass."

Which didn't really narrow it down. Sure, Emma was technically as white as she could be - but all an Empire thug had to do was to decide that she looked Jewish enough (or was friends with undesirables) to be a 'valid' target for an attack. And with the gangs' trails already being so cold you could apply them to burns…

"I'd say that at that point, she would've tried to establish dominance over you, maybe even mould you into someone sharing her new, twisted values. Except, that didn't happen, did it?" The villainess looked at me. "No, it didn't. She pushed you away, in favour of a new 'friend'. Probably someone who reinforced her messed up worldview. And with it happening during summer break… I'd say, there's a 75-80% chance that new friend was the one who both prevented her from Triggering that summer, and put all that social Darwinism into her head to begin with."

"Ah. Meaning, I could ask her what happened."

"If she's still around, sure. Also, if it was her, she's probably a cape."

Yeeeah, that actually checked out. Damn.

Sophia Hess was someone I hadn't thought of for a LONG time. Even back when I was at Winslow, even when Emma was actively bullying me, the jock girl was kind of an afterthought - all she did was loom threateningly, and sometimes get physical, like shoulder-checking me. It was all as petty as it was stupid and inconsequential.

However, if she was the reason Emma went off the deep end, if she was the one to take my best friend away from me, if she shoved Madison into that locker, I was gonna-

Okay, STOP.

Deep breath.

In.

Out.

Even if it was her, Sophia Hess was a child. A kid my age. Going after her like she was the Butcher or Leviathan was just wrong, regardless of how much she messed up my former best friend, or if she was partially responsible for Madison's trigger.

Unless she pulled a Squealer, I was NOT going after her.

Still, I had to talk to the girl.

I would've tried to do so yesterday - but it was Sunday. What hope did I have of trying to find a specific teenager in a city like Brockton Bay on a Sunday evening? For all I knew, she didn't even go back home on weekends! No, it was easier to just rush over to Winslow after school today, wait for their longer school day to end, and follow Sophia from there. Also, I was gonna talk to her as Miko of Paradise, rather than Taylor Hebert - while she knew me out of the costume, she had no incentive to open up about anything to the former classmate she used to bully.

And it seemed like it was about time to get into that talking mindset - the last lesson of the day, P.E., just ended.

Tana was onto something when she said that running got easier with time - by now, I was just a bit winded after the mandatory jogging part. I did not have it in me to run for longer, though, especially since the weights felt that much more fulfilling - my arms had a bit of muscle definition now! I did not pay it THAT much attention, though whenever I saw myself in the mirror, it was difficult not to find it just a tad bit cool.

Either way, since I was actually putting in the effort at the gym, I had to hit the showers. By the time I was finished, Tana had already gone ahead - she had to go to the warehouse to change into her Swordsman outfit, since she was gonna be my backup today.

I asked Madison first, but she wanted to be as far away from one of her former tormentors as possible.

I was just gonna get to Winslow first, guide Swordsman via one of my Orbs, and-

"Hey, Taylor?" I stopped about three dozen feet away from Arcadia's entrance, and looked over my shoulder at Victoria, standing there, clearly unsure of something.

"Yeah?" I was in a bit of a hurry, though if it was something urgent…

"Uh… No, nothing. Another time, see ya!" Before I could respond, she rose into the air and dashed past me, and through the doors.

Ugh, was this some sort of a teenage drama situation? If so, I was SO not looking forward to its continuation.

I made my way to Winslow under the good old NM-SEP field, and was kinda tempted to stalk its halls for a bit, to check on the quality of its education - I remembered it being abhorrent, and it unlikely had changed so far. We were still busy making sure the people we needed on the school board got elected this year, so that it had the majority willing to improve the funding of 'underperforming' schools, rather than funneling it all into Arcadia's third golf course or something (it had TWO already!).

Ten minutes later, Swordsman arrived to where I was overlooking the school from the roof of a nearby building - and reminded me to check the premises with a Karmic Sonar, and… Yeah, there were three 'echoes' in Winslow. Meaning, either tinkertech, or parahumans.

Hm…

After twenty more minutes, the bell finally rang, and dozens upon dozens of kids began leaving the school's premises - and yeah, so did the Karmic 'shadows'. Three parahumans, got it. Rather than trying to dig into who they were, I began scanning the crowds of leaving students for Sophia - and a few minutes later, I found her on her own way from the school, with the gait of someone who thought she owned the place.

Just to be safe, I checked her with the Sonar.

Parahuman.

Ight.

I told Swordsman about it, and then followed my target into the alleyways, activating my best Barrier as I did so, just to be on the safe side.

Then, as I saw where she was headed, I flew ahead, and dropped the NM-SEP field, appearing ten feet ahead of the corner she was about to turn.

The expression she made when she took that turn, and found Miko of Paradise standing there, looking expectantly at her, would've probably made Witch laugh.

"…shit."

"Sophia Hess. Just who I was looking for." I watched her calmly. She shuddered for some reason.

"L-look, I-" She suddenly squared off. "I haven't done anything wrong."

Really, now. If I understood correctly, that was guilty conscience, followed by an unhealthy dose of an empty denial. If I had time, I could've grilled her about it - the girl shuddered again for some reason - but this was not about that. Though maybe it was a good idea to stick a disguised Orb to look at her after-school activities now…

"A year and a half ago, during summer of 2009, you met with one Emma Barnes. I want to know how it happened."

"Emma? What does it-" she started, but then shuddered again, took half of step back, and lowered her gaze. Damn, she probably had a REALLY guilty conscience. "I was patrolling like usual, when I heard a commotion. Found some Asian wannabe gangbangers doing an ABB initiation - you know, the kind where they mess up a white person or two, maybe put them in a hospital if they're feeling generous that day. So I kicked their asses - the gangers', I mean. And the white people were Emma and her dad."

Interesting choice of words. 'Kicked the gangers' asses', not 'rescued the civilians'. Definitely an independent cape, and one not even pretending to be heroic.

"And that's it?" I looked at her pensively.

Sophia began shivering for some reason.

"I… I waited before jumping in - to see if the girl fought back, even a bit. She did, which meant, she was strong. So I took her under my wing, to make her even stronger."

"I see," I sighed. The picture this painted was not pretty, but at least I could see it much more clearly.

I looked at the shivering mess of a girl in front of me. She was never really a threat to me - not even before I Triggered. Not in the ways that counted. But now, she looked downright pathetic, and not just because she was barely holding herself together under the barest hint of scrutiny.

She was a bully with a head full of absolutely inane notions that ran afoul of the real world. A cape who likely only put her costume on not even to save people in the most inefficient way possible, but to beat up acceptable targets. A child who sorely lacked a moderating hand in her life, and made it everyone else's problem.

She was also, in a way, a twisted reflection of what I could've had become, if I didn't have other, sensible people in my life. If I had all the long term planning capacity of an attack dog. If I just followed that instinct to put on a stupid costume and go find someone to use my powers on.

"You have three options, Sophia," I said plainly, as I looked at her. "You can continue as you are - but I don't see it ending all that well for you. You can go to the PRT, and ask to join their Wards program - I have my misgivings about them, but they can guide you better than the clearly silent voice of reason and decency in your head. Or, you can come to the Brockton Bay Jinja, and ask the mikos there to see me. I will try to help, but you WILL have to put in the effort to help yourself." With that offer on the table, I turned and rose into the air. "Just choose whatever option you think is best for you. See you around."

I began making my way back to the warehouse, where I was gonna have that brainstorming session with Lisa. At the edge of my hearing, I could hear Sophia breaking down into sobbing.

If she decided to take my offer of help, I was definitely throwing her at a therapist.

January 14th, 2011

A few days after I had my talk with Sophia, Director Piggot contacted me - apparently, Brockton Bay's last independent vigilante, Shadow Stalker, came to them wanting to become a Ward, but only if she was immediately transferred to another city - preferably somewhere along the West Coast. Probably out of shame. I just told the director to make sure that the girl got her therapy - as she badly, desperately needed it.

Madison was relieved that her former tormentor did not take my offer, and honestly - so was I. Just dealing with Emma looked like it was gonna be a big enough project to clear my entire schedule (not that I planned on doing so), and from my brief recent interaction with Sophia - it felt like she was gonna be nearly as high maintenance.

Either way, I had tons of other things to worry about.

The water spewed by Leviathan's remains was now flowing with the force of a fast river, rather than a jet cutter - meaning, in just a week or two I was finally gonna properly inspect them. I tentatively had SOME ideas for the crystalline sphere, but said ideas had to wait until a closer inspection.

Another thing on my mind was my inability to correlate the plans for the Big One and the Shinto calendar.

See, I initially wanted to open the arenas on the day of the Setsubun Festival. It was held on February 3rd, with Shinto practitioners throwing beans around to expel demons (Shinto shrines also held purification rituals on that same day) - but with Emma entering the picture, I was not sure if I could afford to wait for nearly a month. Another possible date was January 15th, known as Seijin-no-hi, a day when young adults celebrated coming of age at 20 years old, and went to their local shrine for a blessing. However bureaucracy once again got in the way of THAT one - City Hall could not possibly approve such an event on such short notice.

And holding an opening of the Arenas on one of the weekdays was just plain stupid - it was gonna pull kids away from school, pull less responsible adults away from their jobs, and create traffic and logistical issues for everyone else.

Meaning, it was better to open the Arenas next Saturday, on January 22nd, instead. It also gave us time to hastily do the necessary work on the 'Arena Control, Central Office and Research Division' (not sure why Lisa gave me such a weird look when I called it that) - a newly bought building right across from the jinja in which any parahumans wanting to participate had to be tested for possible power interactions with the safety systems - the last thing I wanted was for some out-of-town cape to turn someone into paste because their power ignored my Barriers or something.

Mostly, Tana was in charge of making sure the building was operational, I was just waiting for her go-ahead to implement all the tinkertech and enchantments required for testing.

Then there was the usual mix of meetings, tinkering, reading letters and answering to them (I was already halfway through the second crate!), and…

Yeah, then there was the issue of Emma Barnes.

This one was the most vexing. Like, I had already gotten Dee's opinion on the matter, and had that last brainstorming session with Lisa, but… but it would've been SO much easier if my goal was to send my former best friend to the Asylum, or to imprison her - or even just to keep her as far away from me as possible. The fact that I wanted to at least TRY to help her (and everything that entailed) was already giving me a headache.

Though on the other hand, I couldn't just NOT try.

Back when I was gathering the evidence of her two bullying campaigns at Winslow, I was less concerned with the notion of payback, and more with getting her the professional help she obviously needed. And, well, THAT obviously backfired in the most Murphy's Law-fuelled way - leading to me both unknowingly becoming the target of her obsession, and ALSO being probably the only one capable of stopping or helping her without going full lethal.

The thing was… there really was no way to FORCE someone to get better mentally - not without some sort of a parahuman-assisted mind trickery going on. And I did NOT trust Master powers, not even ones designed by me personally. No, in order to properly help Emma, I had to ensure that she WANTED to change, and THAT was nigh impossible, considering the psychological profile we'd managed to construct.

I had some ideas to MAYBE bring her into less screwy mindspace, but even I knew they were crapshoots at best. I had a more… technical idea of how to help her as well, but it was something I was definitely not testing on my former best friend.

I needed a test subject - and I kinda had an idea of where to find one. Just needed to go have a talk with Director Piggot after school today, to see if it was possible at all. Bureaucracy-wise, that is. I knew what I was theoretically capable of, even if those theoretical capabilities kinda frightened me beyond anything and anyone else - though just like with my Leviathan outing, I simply had to deal.

And probably book a few extra sessions with Dee afterwards.

Either way, for now, I was just eating my school lunch in peace, trying to unwind as much as possible before-

"Um… Taylor…?"

Before another chunk of manure hit the industrial fan.

Goddammit.

"Yes, Victoria…?" I raised my eyes from the decidedly decent plate of mac & cheese to see one Victoria Dallon looking at me with all the miserable uncertainty of a particularly wet cat.

"Can… can we talk, please…? Alone…?"

Bloody hell.

"Yeah, sure. One moment," I sighed, and began shovelling the rest of my lunch into my mouth. Which felt like such a waste, I wanted to SAVOUR my food! If this ended in some inane bullshit, Victoria owed me something tasty. Like a pizza. It'd been ages since I had a pizza.

Finishing my lunch just fast enough not to choke on it, I grabbed the empty tray, and nodded to the blonde.

"Let's go."

I was fairly certain that if it was any other season, she would've led me onto the roof - but luckily, we at least avoided THAT part of the stereotypical teenage bullshit, on account of it being pretty damn cold, snowy and windy outside.

Nah, instead Victoria dragged me into one of the dusty, unused classrooms - a history one, to be exact - and spent a minute checking the closets and under desks for anyone who was not supposed to be there, while I just… stewed in the disappointment of not being able to savour my lunch in peace, and tried to remember if it was possible to shuffle the Sunday's schedule enough for a little trip out of-

"Taylor…? I… I wanted to say that I'm sorry…" The blonde looked at me with that same miserable expression, "I'm… sorry that my actions were part of what caused you to Trigger…"

What.

"What."

I looked at her in muted disbelief. She practically shrunk into herself in return.

"I've been… taking college-level courses on parahumans, you know? And one of the things we learned was the theory behind the Trigger Events. And one thing kinda stood out to me." She couldn't raise her eyes for some reason. "That if someone has this huge problem they can't solve for a long time - like if heroes keep destroying their stuff and sending their family into debt - that they… they trigger as Tinkers."

I tried to process what she said, even as my hand found its way to my face. Bloody hell, I was so damn tired, and SO not in the mood for this.

"First of all, Victoria. We've been friends for months by now. Could you PLEASE not act as if I'm gonna literally bite your head off for saying dumbass things? Second - I'm not sure why you think I'm some sort of a Tinker, but I distinctly remember that you already asked me for a fresh start on the first day of this school year. And I even agreed."

"Look, Taylor-" I raised my eyes to her, and she suddenly froze in place for some reason.

I just looked at her questioningly.

A few seconds later, she finally gathered her thoughts enough to continue.

"Look, I don't know how to tell you this, but… You kinda get intense sometimes. Like, right this moment? 'Pants-shittingly terrifying' kind of intense." Victoria averted her gaze. "I'm pretty sure that if you cornered me in a dark alley, I would have literal nightmares about it for years. And I'm, like, 99% sure you're Miko of Paradise, because your 'intense' really matches hers. Especially with the trigger theory I mentioned. Plus, Amy stopped avoiding you soon after she joined Miko's company."

"So, you think I'm Miko of Paradise," I sighed, before my thoughts screeched to a halt.

Wait.

Hold on.

Just wait a second.

Was..

Was I literally this scary?

Sure, people had been wary around me for months, and even now, with my newfound fame as the killer of Leviathan, most were giving me a reasonable amount of breathing room, but - I thought it was a reputation thing…?

I knew I was not some sort of a nightmare troll, ugly enough to cause dainty damsels to fall over in fainting spells from my horrifying visage. I looked normal. And sure, I was not a smiley type of person, but…

But surely not 'pants-shittingly terrifying'?

"Taylor…?"

Wait, hold on…

What did Victoria say about a dark alley…?

Didn't I LITERALLY corner Sophia in one…?

Well, sorta. She could technically just turn around and try to leave, but…

…

Holy shit, did I terrify her into going to the PRT for PROTECTION…?

"Taylor, are you okay…?"

I… probably had to talk to Dee about this.

Also, to my friends.

My friends, who… all weirdly didn't raise this topic, ever…?

Were they just used to me…?

Was I only SOMETIMES scary…?

Was this-

"Taylor!" there was a slightly shivering hand just a few inches away from my shoulder - hell, was Victoria so terrified of me she was afraid to touch me now?!

Bloody-

Okay, I was done with this.

"I am fine, and I also don't get what you are trying to achieve here, Victoria," I sighed, tiredly looking at the blonde. "Say you're right, and I'm Miko of Paradise who you're so damn afraid of that you're literally shaking right now - what was your plan? Just - what, ask the oh-so-terrifying parahuman for forgiveness, and beg that she only smites YOU, and not your next of kin or something?"

"I- you-," she blinked. "Uh, I wouldn't put it like that, but... kinda…?"

"Then you're being an absolute idiot. Not only is the stuff you're apologising for already water under the bridge, you're ALSO poking into the possible secret identity of someone you already think is 'pants-shittingly terrifying'. If I was Miko of Paradise, and as vindictive as you believe her to be, there'd be a high chance you'd disappear, with everyone conveniently forgetting your existence so that they wouldn't share your fate. Especially since all that nonsense of being an outed cape sounds like something I'd want to avoid at all costs."

"Ah."

"Yes. 'Ah'. Sometimes, 'the right thing to do' is also 'an idea so bad, you really shouldn't do it', and this is certainly one of those times. You know what you SHOULD'VE done? Kept this to yourself." I looked at her calmly, "There might be plenty of people capable of devising someone's secret identities or parahuman status, and most of them keep silent about their findings, because it's a sane AND a safe thing to do. And even if I was Miko of Paradise, I probably wouldn't appreciate being outed like this either."

"I… … …sorry." She averted her gaze again.

"Is this all you wanted to tell me?"

"…Yeah…" Aaaand yeah, the blonde cape looked like a thoroughly kicked puppy.

Despite my annoyance, I couldn't help but feel bad about it.

"And I didn't get to properly enjoy a perfectly good lunch for this dumbassery,", I deadpanned. "That's it, Victoria, you owe me a pizza."

"A… pizza…?" she blinked.

"Yeah. As an apology for this mess of a lunchtime," I shrugged. "That's what friends do. Try to drown each other in enough melted cheese and pineapple slices to forget all the times they've been shitty to each other."

"Pineapple- are you seriously one of those heathens who eat that stuff on pizza?!" Victoria blanched.

"Sure. Works great with black olives, pickles and feta cheese," I shrugged.

"Heresy," she muttered, before perking up. "And wait, we're still friends?"

"I mean, yeah? Unless you don't want to be anymore?"

"No-no-no, definitely friends!" she smiled, as the bell rang for the next class. "But since we're friends, call me Vicky already!"

"Don't push it."