Chapter 11 - 12

Another parahuman, another headache.

Emily Piggot lifts herself out of her office chair, ignoring the view through the windows that once reminded her of her vast responsibility. Now, it only reminds her of the rot. Of the countless Parahumans making a mess of her city. She walks around her paper-strewn desk towards the door, taking a look at the clock on the way out. 8:26 AM. Four minutes to get to the meeting room. It'll only take her two.

She strides past bustling office workers, each dead set on finishing the tasks assigned to them. It's far from a busy day, there have been no gang fights or parahuman 'incidents' yet, but every worker still has a purpose. Catching up on reports that were due, getting ahead on their tasks, or helping others with theirs. A well oiled machine.

She opens a metal door and steps through with the authority befitting someone of her station. A glance at the clock on the wall reveals it's 8:28 AM. Perfect. She sits down at the head seat of the large oval table in the middle of the room, ensuring all her papers were in order and her laptop was set up as it needed to be. She ignores the looks from the heroes in the room, only recognizing that a few of them are missing. They have a minute, now.

The clock reaches 8:30 AM and the last of them filter in. She clears her throat, an unnecessary gesture as her throat was already clear, but it served as a signal for the capes to pay attention. She looks at the gathered heroes. Armsmaster in his usual gear next to Miss Militia, and Battery and Assault are next to each other as always. Velocity is lounging on the other side of the table, with Triumph next to him looking markedly more nervous than the more senior members of the Protectorate. No Dauntless, as he's currently busy with PR work.

"You all know the subject of the meeting, so I won't beat around the bush. There's a new parahuman in town, known simply as 'Jack'. Despite the obvious connotations, by all accounts that seems to be his real name, though once he becomes more prominent we may have to worry about reprisal from the Nine taking offense. Armsmaster, what do we know about their current location?" She rifles through papers, rereading sections of the reports that she was given as he answers.

"They were last spotted four days ago in a small town south of Pittsburgh." He replies with distaste.

"Keep an eye on them. Jack was first reported in the Market by one Craig Killian calling the PRT five days ago, claiming that a kid matching Jacks description 'assaulted and robbed him using powers'. Eyewitness reports said otherwise so it was initially dismissed. Knowing what we know now, it's possible powers were used in the interaction. His second appearance was in the Brockton Bay Central Hospital yesterday, when he began illegally healing patients under Panacea's watch." A frown forms on her face. Typical parahuman, ignoring the laws that are there for good reason just to serve his own interests. He most likely weaseled his way into the hospital to gain renown as a healer.

She connects her laptop to the projector in the room and scrolls through images of Jack taken throughout the hospital. In the few photos that were taken from the front, his young face sported the same vacant look in all of them. Just what she needs, another traumatized kid with superpowers running around in her city.

"I've since requested the CCTV footage from the hospital so we can see his power at work." She pulls up a video of Jack standing unnaturally still near a patient, hands still in his pockets. Over the course of three seconds, the deep gouge on the patients leg twisted grotesquely and mended, not even leaving a scar afterwards. A closeup of Jacks face shows another empty gaze, unbothered by what was happening in front of him. She's unsure whether that suggests he has experience with his powers, or whether he's simply that broken inside. Regardless, she looks at the gathered capes in the meeting room to gauge their reactions. Assault is sporting an unusually serious look, Battery and Miss Militia are grimacing, and Triumphs nervousness is gone, replaced by sadness. Velocity looks unbothered, interestingly enough.

"As you can see, he doesn't need to touch somebody to heal them. His maximum range is unknown and the extent of his control over it is unknown. There's no evidence that he can use it to do anything other than healing, but if he's a biokinetic like Panacea..." She lets the implications sink in before continuing.

"Once I found out there was an unknown, unregistered parahuman using their untested powers at a hospital of all places, he was already gone. I had to find out through an intern that found pictures of him on break while she was scrolling through PHO. He was there for four whole hours. What were you all doing?" Her frown grows more severe. Assault begins to speak, no doubt to make an unnecessary quip, but Battery puts her hand over his mouth. At least one of them has a lick of sense. Silence pervades the room as none of them answer. She lets the moment drag for a few more seconds before continuing.

"Thankfully, none of the patients he treated have shown any negative signs, and they were all personally cleared by Panacea after Jack healed them. Armsmaster, I want you to open a personal line between us and the secretaries at every hospital in the city. We need to know immediately if Jack starts healing again. I won't let him run around with no surveillance like he has been." Armsmaster, ever dutiful, nods. Despite his shortcomings, she can at least count on him to get shit done.

"Good. Jacks next appearance was later the same day, when he called in a shooting to the police department. They noticed that he matched the description of a caller four days prior that disappeared before the police got there, and tried tracking his phone to no avail. The signal showed that he called in a middle of a homeless camp, but as soon as the call ended, the trace fell through. They-" Velocity cuts her off by raising his hand. She nods, so he starts speaking.

"He showed an ability to make objects disappear and reappear at will. It's possible he used that power on the phone, right?" She feels her headache getting worse.

"Yes. I was getting there, but since you interrupted, would you like to go ahead and report on what happened when you met him?" She bites out. Velocity at least has the decency to look ashamed, though it quickly disappears. Fucking capes.

"Okay. So, the police went asking around for him and got directions towards his ship from a homeless person nearby. The officers split up, one found Jack, and they started talking. Jack showed his powers, the officer called the PRT, I got sent out, and when I arrived Jack was just chilling against the hull of one of the shipwrecks down by the Boat Graveyard. He showed no signs of aggression so I approached him using the standard protocol for non hostile unknowns. Honestly, he was pretty nice. He even offered me a kebab that he pulled out of thin air, presumably using his power to do so. That or he's really good at magic tricks. When asked if he had a name he just said 'Jack', which made me realize he was the healer spotted with Panacea. He showed no signs of hiding anything about his past or his powers, and he was very blunt the whole conversation. Outside of the small talk I made with him, there are four important points that I need to bring up. He's not affiliated with New Wave, or so he says." She knows this, but Assault and Triumph seemingly don't. Do they not read the reports she sends them? Velocity continues before she can interject.

"He claimed he 'works better alone' when I gave him a pitch, so I don't think he plans on joining us. When I pressed him on joining us or letting us protect him so he doesn't get kidnapped by the gangs, he offered to show me 'a bit of his power'." He raises his hands to use air quotes before continuing, "I agreed to learn more about what he's capable of, and he offered to run with me. At the time I thought he was overconfident, but he started running towards the coastline, then on the water. He was running at least eighty miles per hour, accelerated instantly, and showed no signs of fatigue for the ten minutes I kept up with him. I had to tap out and run back to the coastline before I got too tired, but he looked perfectly fine. The only difference was that while he was out on the water, he was smiling the whole time. Don't really know why, but it was nice to see another expression on him." She privately enjoys the look of surprise on Assaults face and the gape on Triumphs. They really didn't read the reports she sent them. She'll need to rectify that.

"Lastly... I noticed something while we were out running. His speed was constant. He didn't slow down or speed up at all, but about halfway through the run, he gained a few miles per hour in speed." That wasn't in the report he gave her.

"He was holding back then?" Assault chimes in.

"I don't know. It's just a hunch, but he might be a trump. If he is... I left quickly, just in case." Shit. She's going to have to talk with Velocity after this about excluding important information in reports.

"That would've been nice to know yesterday, Velocity." She speaks up. He cringes a bit. Good. She continues, "We'll have to keep that in mind. If he truly grows more powerful, we need to get him to join. Letting a gang get their hands on a healing trump would be disastrous." She lets the heroes digest that tidbit. They all look serious now.

"Onto the reason this meeting was called. Thirty minutes ago Panacea called us through her personal line. She said, quote, 'Jack captured Alabaster and he wants you guys to pick him up'. Armsmaster, as the one who was sent to deal with the situation, report." He takes a second before responding, probably fiddling with that helmet of his.

"I arrived at 8:03 AM. Glory Girl, Laserdream, Panacea, and Jack were on top of a nearby ship." He pauses and connects to the projector, pulling up footage from one of the cameras on his suit. The first thing she notices is the comical amount of gore everywhere. A large zone of blood soaked sand between two shipwrecks, with pieces of bone and unidentifiable viscera scattered within it. She hears a retch from Triumph but pays it no mind.

"As you can see, approximately 9.7 gallons of blood was spilled." Armsmasters droll tone carries on while the footage plays. It shows Jack jumping down and landing in front of the camera, showing no signs of disgust at that much blood. She frowns. Not only is it a kid, not only is he potentially a trump, he's also completely uncaring about violence. Just what this city needs. Armsmaster stays quiet as the video plays, only taking two minutes from start to finish. Silence fills the room once more. Her eyes stay locked onto the video, uncaring of how the capes in the room are reacting. All she can think about are the implications. Before she can spiral further, a voice rings out.

"So... he's not a kid? Just got shafted by his powers?" Assault asks. A minuscule silver lining, she thinks. Even though adult capes are still childish and inconsiderate, actual children are significantly worse.

"My lie detector didn't detect a single lie during our conversation." Armsmaster adds.

"Are we going to gloss over the fact that he took, and was going to sell, multiple assault rifles? Why the hell did you not take him in for that?" Triumph demands.

"He wasn't hostile, he's most likely homeless and needs cash, and there was no need to get on his bad side. We have a budget for a reason." She nods at Armsmasters assessment. His actions gave them a positive connection with Jack, which is well worth two hundred dollars.

"But-" She cuts Triumph off with a harsh glare.

"Stop. He did the right thing, if he had tried to arrest Jack the situation would've escalated. Jack is still an unknown, we don't know what he's capable of yet." Triumph wilts in his chair, but doesn't continue his argument. He still has a lot to learn.

"Why was New Wave there? It doesn't look like they helped him fight, they're too clean." Miss Militia interjects. Good question.

"I didn't think to ask, though I-" Armsmaster is cut off by the door to the meeting room slamming open. A brunette woman - the same intern as before, she recognizes - rushes in with her phone out.

"He's back!" The woman practically throws her phone on the table, displaying a picture of Jack. At the hospital. Fuck.

"When was this taken?" Emily quickly demands.

"Two minutes ago!" Shit. Who should she send? Not Triumph, Armsmaster and Velocity need to be on call right now in case the Empire responds violently to Alabaster being in custody... who does she not need right now?

"Miss Militia, you're our liaison. Don't push too hard but get him to come in for power testing. Emphasize that it's to make sure his healing is safe." Miss Militia nods and quickly exits the room, and the meeting hesitantly continues.

Emily Piggot can't get a single damn day of peace in this city.

"Where's Amy?" Carol Dallon - her aunt - asks in an authoritative tone.

"At the hospital." Vicky casually responds, too busy cleaning her nails to pay attention.

"This early on a Sunday?" Aunt Carol pushes.

"Jack said he would go with her today..." Vicky trails off, realizing what the conversation is about to turn into.

"Jack? That boy went with her?" The emphasis Carol puts on 'boy' makes her distaste evident.

"He's a good healer, mom." Vicky defends.

"I was under the impression that he hadn't tested that yet." Aunt Carol snipes, her lips tightening. Why does she dislike Jack so much? Crystal might not have been at the first meeting between them, but it couldn't have gone that badly, right?

"Amy made sure he was all good." Vicky is starting to get prickly now, oh boy.

"That doesn't change the fact that what he's doing is illegal. There's a reason for the strict regulations before a parahuman is allowed to heal." She's seen Aunt Carol acting like this before, desperate to find any excuse to hate someone. But when? She racks her brain, but comes up empty.

"Oh, would you calm down, Carol. If Amy says it's safe, that's better than whatever testing the PRT would put him through." Her mom chimes in. Heh, she hopes Jack does end up calling her Photon Mom at some point.

"I'm perfectly calm. I just don't want Amy to be put at risk by associating with a villain." A villain?! She looks around the room and everyone, even Uncle Mark, is looking at Aunt Carol weirdly.

"A villain? He's healing people!" Vicky exclaims. She meets Vicky's eyes and recognizes the look she's sending her -- 'Help me out here!'. Before she gets a chance to respond, Aunt Carol steamrolls ahead.

"Illegally. He could be putting those people in danger from some side effect he doesn't even know about." Aunt Carol says stubbornly. Nothing is going to change her mind at this point.

"Side effects that even Amy can't fix? Unlikely. Why are you so biased against the boy? First you blow up at him when he came to meet you on friendly terms, now you're calling him a villain?" Her mom - always the voice of reason - responds. Aunt Carols face screws up in anger.

"I am NOT biased. Just... you'll understand when you see him. Nothing good can come from knowing him." Aunt Carol raises her voice without even realizing it, standing up at the same time. At least she looks a bit ashamed about it as she plops back down in her chair.

"So you're judging him solely based on appearance? Shallow, Carol." A surprisingly snide remark from her mom. Is this going to turn into a spat? Crystal locks eyes with her brother and he's obviously also already tired of this. She gives him a nod of commiseration.

"You haven't even met him, yet you're defending him like your life depends on it." Carol snipes back. Yep, she's pretty sure it's going to turn into a fight.

"He's done nothing to suggest he's a bad person. I'll be meeting with him soon to recruit him, but I don't think I'll see whatever it is that you do." She watches as her aunts face screws up even tighter. Despite Aunt Carol being brash, she's usually levelheaded at least. What's up with this ardent refusal to be reasonable all of a sudden?

"You're trying to recruit him? I don't support it." Carol bites out.

"We started this movement to encourage unmasking, it would be hypocritical of us to turn away a cape who was brave enough to do so. I'm not letting you screw this up, Carol. Another healer, hell, another cape at all, might be exactly what we need to revitalize New Wave. Don't you want that?" Her mom catches her breath after her speech so she can continue, but Aunt Carol is already responding.

"Well-" She tunes out the rest of the bickering. These monthly meetings are usually intense, just not this intense. Aunt Carol might not be the nicest person, but she's never blown up like this before. She can't help but wonder what the hell happened at that meeting.

She looks at everyone else gathered at the dining room table of her house. Uncle Mark, looking bored and resigned, like he's used to this. Her dad, frowning at Aunt Carol and occasionally backing up her mom. Vicky trying to get a word in but failing to find an opportunity. And Eric, sitting there looking lost. If she could see herself, she imagines she looks similar to her brother.

As the bickering continues, more and more questions pop up in her mind, and doubt starts to creep in. Is Jack really that bad? When she met him, he didn't seem like a bad person. Sure, he was covered in blood, but none of the men that ambushed him looked very injured. And as someone that's fought Alabaster before, he does bleed a lot. Actually, how did Jack even fight him off? Isn't he just a healer? No, he managed to leap up to the top of his ship, so he's at least a minor brute. Is that enough for Aunt Carol to freak out though? Most of New Wave are brutes. No, she has to be missing something.

"Aunt Carol, why are you so scared of Jack?" As everyone's heads swivel towards her, she realizes she said that out loud. Oops. Aunt Carol looks like she swallowed a lemon.

"I- I am NOT scared of him!" Silence falls as everyone registers what just happened. Her aunt, the lawyer, the badass Brandish, just stuttered? The longer the silence goes, the redder Carol gets, although she tries to hide it. The embarrassment quickly shifts to anger as she stands up and storms out of the room. Everyone else is left looking around at each other in confusion. What the hell?

"Uh... is now a good time to bring up that Jack beat Alabaster?" Crystal tries to end the awkward silence. It works, as everyone other than Vicky is now looking at her in surprise, confusion, or a mix of the two. Eric looks flabbergasted.

"When did that happen?" Her dad asks, his voice booming across the table. A softness is present that makes the otherwise intimidating voice comfortable.

"'Bout thirty minutes ago? Vicky and I went to meet Jack to bring him to the hospital, and we arrived to... so much blood. According to him, Alabaster and six 'goons' attacked him while he was asleep, and he tied them all up." She recounts. Her mom raises an eyebrow at her.

"He beat Alabaster alone? He can do more than heal, then?" Her dad asks.

"He has a brute rating, I don't know how strong he is though. He could jump about ten feet in the air, at least. He can also do something that made guns appear and disappear." She explains.

"He also has some control over gravity." Vicky interjects, sending me a wink. Is she trying to pitch him right now?

"That's a lot of different powers." Her mom mutters.

"He's a trump. When he came to our house, he said that he 'occasionally gets new powers'." She stares at Vicky in shock. He's a trump? That explains his confidence... but not why Aunt Carol is acting the way she is.

"What?! And Carol chased him off despite that? That-" Her mom stops herself and sighs, continuing, "That's even more reason to recruit him. Let's take a vote. Raise your hand if you're against taking him in."

Nobody raises their hand.

A healer, unclaimed. A perfect addition.

Lung stands from his throne. If he can capture this 'Jack', he'll no longer be the only gang without a healer. Good.

A healer would be all he needs to take down the Empire. A gout of flame flies from his mouth as he huffs in rage. If the Empire did not have Othala, he would have burnt them to a crisp long ago. With the Nazis gone, the PRT and that fool Coil would easily fall, leaving him in his rightful position as ruler of Brockton Bay. He bares his teeth in glee at the mere thought.

He's knocked out of his musings by one of his underlings rushing into his room. He holds back his urge to kill the idiot and lets him speak.

"Sir! Jack, the healer... he's at the hospital again!" Oh? His smile widens, yet the man steps back in fear. Coward. In his hands are a phone, with a picture of the boy. Lung steps forwards, causing the man to freeze, and grabs the phone.

"Good. You will live, despite your intrusion. Leave, bring me Bakuda." His voice resounds in the room, sending the coward into a hurried bow before he scrambles out of the room. He huffs once more. The caliber of men under him will need to increase. When he becomes the sole warlord, he will have to pick out talents to serve him. No longer will he have to put up with spineless idiots.

This will be a good opportunity to test Bakuda. She will either succeed and get his healer, or she is not worth serving him. He paces around his office while he imagines all the possibilities that can come from having such a cape. His mirth is interrupted by the realization that it has been multiple minutes now, and Bakuda has not yet arrived.

He will have to find her himself. He strides out of the door, letting the weaklings fall out of his path as he walks. The fear and respect they have for him is useful, yet annoying. It is only when he reaches the end of the hallway that someone dares to approach him. Bakuda.

"You are late." He grumbles out. Her face turns to barely restrained fury before straightening out.

"It only took me three fucking minutes to get here." A response without respect. He will have to crush that fire in her soon.

"You. Are. Late. Come with me." He grabs her arm and pulls, watching the fear flicker in her eyes as she stumbles. Good.

"Fine." He pulls her towards his office, dragging her inside and letting go before showing the phone to her.

"I have a task for you. Do it well, and I will increase your supplies. Fail, and you will no longer be welcome. Do you understand?" He growls, fire spilling from his lips.

"I get it, alright. What's the task?" He will have to instill more respect in her. That is no tone to take with him.

"You are to find this boy. Jack. He is currently at the hospital. Do what you need to, but keep him alive and take him. He will be necessary in my plans." A manic grin crosses her face. A disgusting display of murderous intent. He has a feeling she will take things further than necessary.

"Really? That's all? And casualties don't matter?" He will let her disrespect go so long as she produces results. If she doesn't, she will pay for this conversation.

"No. As long as you get the boy, no amount of attention will matter. I will deal with it all." Fervor appears in her eyes, dancing like his flames in a good fight.

"Perfect. You can't take that back now... I'll have good news soon!" She rushes out of the room, not bothering to properly dismiss herself. His fury grows, but has nowhere to be unleashed. That will have to be remedied.

Lung will march on the streets once more. A prelude to his rise.

Eight screens show eight live cameras, each a different perspective of a boy in a hospital.

Coil rises, looming over his hardwood desk as he watches the cameras. A simple boy by the simple name of Jack, is currently at Brockton Bay Central Hospital. The only interesting thing about the homeless boy are his powers. Not just any healer, but a ranged healer at that. He's sure that Piggot and her cronies are stressing relentlessly about what to do with him, like they have any actual say. No, this time, he will be the one to get the healer. He may not have excessive need of one, but even just denying the gangs and the Protectorate is worth the trouble.

He divides realities. In one, he begins doing menial work, making plans for his building, divvying up tasks, the usual. In the other, he grabs a microphone sitting on his desk and speaks.

"Captain Heroux, I have need of you." Barely a minute passes before the mercenary leader shows up at his door. With a button press the door to his office slides open silently, and Heroux walks in. He lets the man stand at attention for a few seconds before speaking.

"There is a shipwreck in the Boat Graveyard. It is a medium sized cargo ship that has been upturned on the coastline, you will know it's the right one when you see a copious amount of blood in the sand. Go there and set up an ambush. In approximately four hours a teenage boy will show up. Wait for when he's alone, capture him, and bring him to entrance 4E." He waves his hand, and Heroux takes his leave. The PRT, in all their incompetency, could never imagine that they personally send incident reports to a supervillain. Incident reports that include exactly where the alleged home of a parahuman is. Idiots.

Once finished with his usual tasks, he starts to plan. How should he grow his empire? In what ways can he expand his influence? How could he take more territory in the Docks? It may be largely unwanted, but any territory is good territory to a man capable of increasing its quality. It would be a simple task to change the Docks from a safe haven for the homeless and dredges of society to a marketable, comfortable, job rich environment. All he would need is money, which is of no concern anymore.

Outside of territory, there's that girl he's been looking into recently. One Dinah Alcott, a thinker that he found from his observations of the Mayors family. Squads sent to capture her have shown that she does have some form of precognition, but there's never been a good time to go through with the kidnapping due to the incessant security surrounding her. It's always so simple to get to her, the problem comes from doing it unseen and unheard. Any connection between the crime and himself will lead to far more attention than necessary.

Maybe he should stage a diversion. Something to distract the Mayor and his associates while his niece gets plucked from right under his nose. What event is happening soon? Maybe...

He sinks into his planning, ignoring the passage of time as he begins drawing up mental maps and blueprints, all while a single monitor in the middle of his desk shows Jack gallivanting around the hospital.

The futures unfold, infinite universes expanding and contracting, shuffling between and through each other.

46.19857263437593758316 percent chance of her getting kidnapped.

0.56187327861643829475 percent chance of her getting kidnapped.

90.12598725241668943537 percent chance of her getting kidnapped.

Three numbers. The same question, but three answers.

Dinah wonders why the numbers are moving so much. They didn't do this before. Even just a week ago they were stable. The chance of her getting kidnapped was high, much higher than she wanted, but it didn't go up or down much.

Some numbers don't move, like if she'll have Mom's chowder for dinner. She can ask that until she has a headache, but it stays the same. But every day more and more questions stop working. She has to use two questions to ask one every time now, just to be sure the numbers are correct.

Her head hurts more often now. She doesn't like it.

She sinks back into bed and tries to forget the pain.

"...and that was the tale of how I crossed dimensions to come to this universe with the goal of saving all of humanity." I finish my grand monologue with a flourish and a bow. I sit back down on the parapet with a smile on my face as I watch Amy go through the five stages of grief in front of me. She settles on anger, probably because I wasted ten minutes of our break saying absolute nonsense.

"You're full of shit, shut up." She grumbles at me and goes back to scrolling on her phone.

"I just ate like four kebabs. Yes." I pull out another kebab. Damn these are good.

"Ew. What the hell is wrong with you?" She looks back up at me, disgusted.

"Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?" I get a blank stare in response. The biggest shock of traveling through time and space and finding myself in a fictional world is definitely how uncultured people here are. I can't use references anymore, how am I supposed to be funny?!

I sulk as I watch the parking lot below me. People of all ages, sizes, and lifestyles are coming and going from the hospital. This rooftop is honestly a really good spot for people watching. It's interesting to see just how many people go to the hospital every day in this city, and the realization that there really are millions and millions of people out there in this world... it helps me remember that this is real. It may have been fictional when I read Worm, but somehow, this world is real.

Does that mean authors back on my earth are all prophets that dream of real universes outside of their own? Or do authors create these universes without even knowing it? Is the fact that this world is real a one off event, or is it indicative of a rule? How did I even get here? With how abrupt my arrival was, my initial theory was that everything was just a hallucination, but I know the limits of my brain. It wouldn't be able to maintain internal consistency on a scale as big as this. Or is that thought merely being implanted in my brain by the hallucination to make me believe it's more real? Actually, on second thought, I'm just not going to try to answer that. That road leads to slippery slopes and madness. Hmm, what should I do when I get home? Maybe I should-

"COME OUT, JACK! IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE IN ONE MINUTE, THE HOSPITALS GOING UP IN FLAMES!" A digitized voice distorted by a megaphone reaches my ears, interrupting my musing. I peer over the edge of the building to see who shouted my name, and after a second of searching I find the source. A woman, standing smack dab in the middle of the parking lot, garbed in black and green cords and wearing a gas mask. She's holding a grenade launcher in her left hand, while her right is lifting a red cone up to her mouth. Bakuda? The hell?

My eyes widen as I remember where I am. Oh shit, she might be crazy enough to actually blow up the hospital. I need to get down there before she starts killing people. The stairs will take a few minutes though...

"Amy, I'll be right back. Hold my kebab." I hand her the half finished kebab I was eating, and stand up. Her startled look turns to confusion, then horror as I get closer to the edge of the building. I count eight stories.

"Jack? You CRAZY FUCK-" I barely hear Amy yelling as I leap off the building, hurtling towards the ground below. As I pick up speed, I extrude mana out of my head and activate [Gravity] above me. That should slow me down, right? Unfortunately, I continue to accelerate as the sphere is quickly left behind, floating in the air where I activated it.

Uh oh.

I hit the ground with a sickeningly wet crunch as my feet and legs are reduced to little more than pulp, flesh and bone giving way to hard concrete. A groan slips out as the first wave of pain reaches me before I can prepare myself. My shattered bones begin to mend as I start using [Heal], and I note with detached interest that the few jagged blobs of meat that separated from my legs aren't disappearing or coming back to me. After my bones come the ligaments, tendons, sinew, and muscle. I'm forced to watch, unmoving, as my legs stitch themselves back together. Even though it's relatively fast, every second counts right now. I don't have time for this.

I don't bother waiting for my skin to come back before I stumble to my feet. Blood continues to pour onto the concrete below me as I make my way through the parking lot, trying to find a car close to her that I can hide behind. I find a truck a good distance away and crouch behind it. Peeking over the bed, I can see Bakuda leisurely making her way over to where I fell, waving her grenade launcher in the air. Damn, I was hoping she didn't see me. I quickly duck as she starts looking around.

"Did someone just kill themself? That's fucking hilarious! I mean, I know I'm scary and all, but I haven't even blown anything up yet. What a dumbass... where's the body?" Bakuda says to herself. The digitization on her voice really stands out without the megaphone messing with it. Despite the emotional language she's using she sounds completely monotone, like a text to speech. That's kind of cool, actually.

That train of thought ends when I hear the distinct sound of a motorcycle pulling up. Armsmaster? No, it lacks his signature mechanical whine. Might just be a regular person, and if it is, Bakuda is definitely going to try and take them as a hostage. Damn it.

"Bakuda, stand down! Drop your weapon!" An unfamiliar voice rings out across the parking lot. All I can tell is that it came from a woman.

"Oh, if it isn't Miss Militia. How'd you get here so quick? No, let me guess. You were sent to grab Jack just like I was. Too bad, you're late. You know what I'm capable of, right? Take one more step, I dare you. I made a new bomb just for today, and I'm itching to test it out." Miss Militia is here? I doubt she was sent to grab me, but I wouldn't be surprised if she was here to try and convince me to come to the PHQ. I peek my head over the bed again to get a view of what's happening. Bakuda is standing next to the blood stain I made, facing away from me. Presumably she's facing Miss Militia, but I can't see past the cars.

Okay, if she's facing away from me, I have a good chance at ambushing her. I can't kill her outright, not only because the PRT would annoy me after but also because I don't know if she has a dead man switch. That rules out [Gravity]. I have to disable her legs first then, but that gives her time to fire her grenade launcher at me. I don't want to see the outcome of that. I need some way of stopping her from moving at all... oh. I can just paralyze her. Can't move without a spine.

"-hospital. You do this, you get the Triumvirate coming for you." I catch the latter half of Miss Militias sentence as I sneak out from behind the truck, legs fully healed, preparing myself to rush at Bakuda. She's approximately thirty feet away. I can make that.

"Well, look around. You see the Triumvirate anywhere-" Bakuda turns around dramatically, gesturing to show off the lack of the Triumvirate, when she spots me. Shit. Why did she have to turn around now? The instant she locks eyes with me I bolt towards her as fast as I can. I make it about twenty feet before she reacts, leveling her grenade launcher at me and firing. A black sphere exits the tube, the sun glinting off of it as it grows closer. Can I dodge? No, too close. Can't catch it, might be an impact grenade. Fuck it, last resort.

I throw my arm up towards it, letting the side of it smack into my palm. As soon as I feel it connect, I try to store it in my inventory. Success. The bomb vanishes. I catch my balance and crouch to continue my sprint when I hear the sharp sound of metal hitting concrete. I look down and see another sphere, a green one, laying at my feet. Damn. Of all the things to kill me, I didn't think it would be a surprisingly competent Bakuda.

In a last-ditch attempt, I throw myself with as much force as I can muster into the air. I rise one foot, two feet, three feet before the bomb detonates. I don't even have time to blink as the pulse of multicolored light reaches me, sending me further into the air. Ten, twenty feet. My body registers the pain as I reach the top of the arc and start falling back to the ground. Good. Pain is good. Pain means I'm not dead.

I land harshly on my back, a high pitched sound akin to a plate breaking making its way to my ears. What? It was only a twenty foot drop, what could've broken from that? I look down at myself. Torso is fine, arms are fine, legs... left leg is fine. My right leg, however, is not fine. From the middle of my thigh down, what used to be flesh and blood has turned into pale pink crystal, crystal that shattered as soon as I hit the ground. All that's left is shards of crystal on the concrete glowing dimly from the sunlight, and a small crown of the stuff adorning the stump. Sending mana to the stump and using [Heal] results in nothing. Damn. Guess I'll have to grind to the point where I can restore limbs, then. That's annoying.

I faintly hear laughing to my right, so I look up. Bakuda is standing maybe ten feet away and looks to be laughing pretty loudly, but I can barely hear it. A quick use of [Heal] on my ears and I can make out her gloating perfectly.

"-dumb. You think I wouldn't double tap? Idiot. Now look at you. Come here, I'm taking you with me." She walks closer. Good. She pulls out a collar from her vest as she walks, a sleek chrome design with a red LED next to the connector. Of course she has a bomb collar. I slowly stand, balancing on my remaining leg. Good thing my Dexterity has gone up, balancing is easier now. As the distance between us closes, I pull strand after strand out of my heart. Ten, twenty, thirty. Should be good enough. She comes within five feet and I activate [Power] with every strand I've pulled out. I leap at her.

Within a fraction of a second, before she can even react, I've reached her. Her eyes, still gloating, still staring at where I was, don't even shake as my hand pierces the upper middle of her torso. Her sternum shatters, then the various organs in the way split and separate, until I finally reach the spine. As my hand cleaves through that as well her body jolts, finally reacting to my sudden intrusion. She goes limp a second later, her grenade launcher clattering to the ground. The only thing keeping her from falling to the ground as well is my arm supporting her. Her mouth opens, probably to scream, but only a wheeze comes out. Am I a bad person for enjoying this? Probably. Oh well, the bitch took my leg. This is just karma.

As my [Power] drops, I grab her shoulder with my other hand and remove my arm from her. I spin her around so her back is facing me, then [Heal] her. I don't want her dying, after all. As her trachea heals, her scream is finally allowed to come to fruition, a hoarse, painful sound resounding around the parking lot. Before she realizes she can move again I lay my palm flat between her shoulders and grab. A crunch later and she goes limp again, her scream gaining in volume. Now how to get her toe rings off?

"Jack..." Miss Militia chimes in. Her tone sounds like a mix of wariness and worry. I blink reflexively. I honestly forgot she was here. Looking over at her, she's between two cars nearby and has some sort of handgun summoned and held at her side. The wispy texture of it looks pretty cool in person, reminds me of how lasers illuminate fog when they're shone through it.

"Sup." She's taken aback by my casual tone, as her eyes widen a bit before settling back to normal. It's always funny seeing these super serious heroes react to me.

"Sup? Are you alright?" She responds, a hint of confusion showing through. Thankfully she's less wary now, I don't want to get into a fight with her with only one leg.

"Oh, the leg? Yeah, I'm fine." I brush off her concerns. Only having one leg is going to be annoying for a while, but it's nothing I can't eventually fix.

"Okay, that's good..." She trails off. The bandana she's wearing around her mouth makes it a bit hard to decipher her expression, but I think she's frowning right now. She picks up her sentence before I can think further, "Look, I know she hurt you, but I can't condone you torturing her like that. That's not what heroes do."

"Huh? Oh, this?" I wiggle the hand that's holding Bakuda's spine, causing her to shout a bit before continuing, "I'll be honest, I'm glad she's in pain right now, but that's not why I'm doing this. No, she's got toe rings on her feet, that's how she detonates bombs. She also might have a dead mans switch, I'm not sure. Cut open her boots and you'll see what I mean. Just be careful." Bakuda stops struggling as I speak, but I can't see her expression.

"What?! How the fuck do you know that?! You-" Bakuda wheezes out, but I cut her off.

"Look, you've pissed me off enough today. Shut up before I crush your larynx." Miss Militia stiffens at my threat, but at least Bakuda goes quiet. I give Miss Militia an easy smile and a small shrug to try and ease the tension. I don't think it works.

"You better be right about that." Miss Militia replies, threat evident in her voice, and her handgun goes wispy, morphing into a bowie knife. She quickly cuts Bakuda's boots away with trained precision, revealing two metal toe rings with copper linings. One on her big toe, one on the toe next to it. Perfect. She tries to pull them off to no avail. They're built around her toes, so they can't be slipped off.

"You can just cut her toes off, I'll heal them back." I tell her. Must've been the wrong thing to say, as she looks up at me with barely hidden disgust.

"No. Stay here." She coldly responds and walks off, vanishing into the labyrinth of cars. I might be coming off too strong right now, I'll have to tone it down. As I wait, I notice Bakuda turning blue. She must be struggling to breathe. I let go, [Heal] her, and quickly grab her spine again. She gets one deep breath before grunting in pain and going limp again. While I wait, I pat her down, grabbing and storing every bomb I find on her. Even if I don't know what they do, having such effective bombs will be great. I don't think they'll degrade like regular tinker-made stuff in my inventory either.

It doesn't take too long for Miss Militia to come back, holding a pair of bolt-cutters. Does she just keep those on her motorcycle? I guess they are pretty handy to have around. She walks over, glancing at me once before reaching down at snipping the rings off. I drop Bakuda, letting her fall to the ground in a heap before healing her one last time. As she twitches and regains feeling, Miss Militia grabs her to handcuff her, and I bend over and store the grenade launcher on the ground.

"I'm going to need that." Miss Militia interrupts, voice still cold.

"Fine." I drop the grenade launcher at her feet, conveniently empty of any bombs. She gives it a once over before looking back at me.

"And the bombs." She gestures towards me.

"No." I respond, staring at her.

"I don't trust you with ordinance like that." She brings Bakuda to her feet while talking, leaning her against a car.

"And I don't trust the PRT with it. Looks like we're at an impasse." She raises her eyebrows at me in response.

"Why don't you trust us?" She asks.

"These bombs are esoteric. Their effects range from immense pain, to turning organic matter into glass, to time loops, to whatever other nasty shit Bakuda has thought up. All due respect to you and your organization, but you've got way too many moles." I explain to her. Honestly, the thought of Coil getting his grubby little hands on these bombs is enough for me to risk offending the Protectorate. She thinks for a second, brows furrowed, before staring me down.

"I'm going to need you to come with me, then." She sternly says, tensing up.

"Are you really going to arrest me?" She starts to say something, but cuts it off with a deep sigh. Her posture relaxes so I let my own tension slip as well.

"...No. Our Director is concerned about the side effects of your healing power. We'd like you to come in and do power testing, just to make sure it's safe. You do know what you've been doing is illegal?" Smart of her to try to use that to get me to come with her. Maybe I should? I do want a somewhat positive relationship with them, after all. Even though my original plan was to get information on Bakuda, which isn't necessary anymore, it would still be better to not have to fight them as well as the gangs.

"Fine. You're not getting the bombs though." She gives a long, suffering sigh at that, before taking her phone out and dialing a number. I zone out as she starts talking. I wiggle my stump around, mesmerized by the way the crystals refract the sunlight. Honestly, of all the things to cripple me, having my leg turn into beautiful crystals isn't that bad.

"Jack? Jesus, what happened to your leg?" A familiar voice asks from behind me. I turn around, and Amy is there, breathing heavily. Did she really run down all those stairs?

"Got turned to crystal. Or maybe glass? Not sure." Amy gawks at me.

"What?! Let me heal you." She says, reaching out for me, but I hop backwards out of her range.

"Nuh uh. No touchy." I tease her. Not having a leg sucks, but having Scion understand magic and showing up to atomize me is worse.

"Why? Is that really important right now?" She responds, baffled. And maybe a little angry.

"It could genuinely end the world." I put as much seriousness into my tone and face as possible. Amy looks at me in shock for a second, before giving me the middle finger.

"Jackass. Whatever. Have fun being a cripple." She waves me off.

"I will! It's a nice change of pace." I hop around for dramatic effect. On the fourth hop, I lose my balance and collapse onto the roof of a car. This is going to be hard to get used to. At least my flailing got Amy to stop blatantly worrying.

"How're you going to heal people looking like that?" She asks. Fair point, honestly.

"I'm not. I'm leaving with Miss Militia over there, and I won't be coming back. People are coming for me now, and I don't want to put the hospital in danger." I respond sincerely. Amy looks like she wants to say something, but stops herself. Is that introspection I see? From Amy? It's a miracle!

"Is she arresting you or something?" She finally asks, frowning.

"Kinda. Who knew, stealing tinkertech bombs from a villain right in front of a hero is a bad idea. But no, she's technically bringing me in to 'make sure my healing is safe'." I throw up air quotes but quickly lose balance, almost falling again before I can catch myself. I need to make a big metal stick or something. Wait! I have one! Amy's indignation at my predicament turns into confusion as I summon the shovel I bought from the 8/25. I give it a test lean, and it's perfect.

"Damn it Jack. Why not just give her the bombs?" She makes her frustration clear.

"Their 'security' might as well be a sieve. I'm not gonna indirectly give a villain access to a bomb that makes Gray Boy bubbles." Amy's face blanches. Before she can respond, Miss Militia finishes up her phone call and walks over to us.

"Panacea." Miss Militia says warmly, accompanied by a curt nod.

"Miss Militia." Amy replies blandly.

"Come with me, Jack. A van will be here in a second." Miss Militia turns to me, and waves me to follow her. I give Amy one last shrug and walk off, using the shovel as a crutch. Miss Militia heaves Bakuda up from the car and onto her shoulder. That's impressive. We walk silently until we eventually reach her motorcycle. A few minutes of waiting around later and an unmarked black van pulls up beside her. I shoot her an unimpressed look as she dumps Bakuda in the passenger seat.

"You're asking me to get inside that? Is there candy in there, perhaps?" Recognition dawns on her face, but she steels her expression a second later.

"It's unmarked for security reasons. Just get inside." The back of the van pops open, revealing three fully armed PRT officers. Damn, are they actually arresting me? I didn't think Miss Militia had it in her to lie like that.

I hop into the van, sitting on the empty seat and storing my shovel. I give a friendly wave to the men, but they don't respond. Rude.

I have a gut feeling this ride is going to be awkward.

My gut was right. Twenty uninterrupted minutes of silence, only ending when the van stops. I can only assume we've reached our destination, considering there are no windows to see out of. A click draws my attention to the van doors, as they pop open, revealing... a wall. Okay. I step out of the van, summoning my trusty shovel once more. A look around reveals that there's no blue glow past the skyline. So we're at the PRT building then? The testing labs are here, not at the PHQ? That's weird.

Miss Militia pulls up beside the van a second later, dismounting and engaging the kick stand in one fluid motion. She gestures at me to follow her, again, so I do. Through a backdoor, down a long corridor, and finally to a large, empty room. It has to be at least fifty feet across, and twice that deep. Miss Militia stops walking and turns to me.

"Wait here, you'll be tested shortly." That's ominous. She quickly walks out of the door we came in through, shutting it behind her. I hope they aren't trying to contain me here. Or maybe I hope they are. On one hand, it would be a pain in the ass to have to sour relations by fighting my way out. On the other hand, it would probably be pretty fun. A quick test of my reserves shows that they're back up to about half. Should be enough to break out if I have to. Not enough to set up an [Alarm] ward big enough to fit the whole room inside, though. Unfortunate. Nothing to do but wait.

A minute passes, then two, then five. Just as I start to get irritated at having to wait, the door opens again. Armsmaster walks through, followed by Miss Militia, then Velocity... am I about to be jumped? No, probably not. These are only heroes I've interacted with. Were they sent to limit exposure to me? That's understandable, given mind control is a thing here. After the heroes, a variety of people wearing lab coats walk in, followed by machinery being pushed on carts, and finally a dozen or so stretchers carrying people. Seems like I'm not going to get to fight my way out. Oh well.

The three heroes walk up to me while the lab attendants walk around the room, setting up equipment and plugging in machinery.

"Warm welcome here, guys." I say, letting some of my frustration leak through.

"It was protocol." Armsmaster replies, curt as always. I give him a nod just to see what he does, and he nods back. I'm definitely going to exploit that.

"So. What now?" I ask impatiently.

"We have various tests for your healing, as well as machinery to test your running speed and general strength. Just in case we brought more exotic testing apparatuses if you wish to test anything else." He explains shortly. A worker walks up to me, holding a flexible tape measure. He glances at me, waiting. I give him a reluctant nod, and he starts to measure my dimensions. Weird, but okay.

"Thought I was just here to make sure my healing was safe?" I make sure my irritation shines through.

"You can deny the other tests. We're aware of your status as a trump, so I asked for more parameters." He explains, even as Miss Militia whips her head towards him in surprise. He wasn't supposed to tell me that, I suppose. How'd they figure that out though? Carol? No, despite my grievances with her, they would've found out sooner if she had tattled. Velocity? Miss Militia?

"Damn, I thought I was hiding it well, too. How'd you find out?" A ripple of interest flares across the heroes faces, but I can't tell if it's because of how easily I admitted it or the fact that it was true.

"Your speed increased as you ran on the water." Velocity chimes in, still looking a little surprised. "Honestly, I thought I was just overthinking it."

"Good catch. Unfortunate, though. You've given me a lot of trouble by revealing that." I channel my inner Riddler as I respond, humor in my voice as I lean on my shovel.

"How so?" Miss Militia steps forwards, finally speaking.

"I'll tell Piggot, but nobody else. Too risky." I'm really hamming up the performance at this point. I might be getting too into my shenanigans.

"Are you a thinker, too?" She asks, her wariness back.

"No, but you might as well classify me as one. Thinker 12 sounds good." Am I giving away too much here? Yeah, that's not even a question. But it's fun watching their expressions go crazy. It might be the aftershocks of losing a leg in an intense fight, but seeing them tense up at my words is very funny right now.

"Can you back up that claim?" Armsmaster asks with a hint of steel creeping into his voice.

"Sure I can. Might want to send out the scientists first, though. And cut any recordings." Of course, if any of the lab workers are Coil's moles, he'll find out I'm a thinker anyways, just not the extent of it. I don't really care though, the annoying bastard is probably after me anyways.

The heroes look at each other for a second, communicating somehow, and Armsmaster makes a gesture that causes all the workers walk out of the room. He stares at one of the walls, causing the lights to flicker for a second. That's interesting. Is there one way glass in here, with people behind it? Like a Marvel movie? I wouldn't be surprised, the PRT have every right to be paranoid.

"This is a show of faith. Be aware that I am willing to detain you if you try anything." Armsmaster pulls out his halberd and holds it at his side. Should I be scared? This guys basically tinker Batman... nah. What should I reveal though? What would really mess with them, without revealing enough information to get Cauldron breathing down my neck? And without souring my relationship with them permanently? I should've kept my mouth shut. I don't gain anything from this except entertainment.

A feeling of calm washes over me as I tune the world out and focus. I can't back out now, trying to make it a joke would cause them to see me as a liability. I need them to trust me if I want to get anywhere in my plans with their support, so I have to say something that I shouldn't know. It has to be grave enough to warrant cutting all surveillance, but not too grave that it would cause them to crack down on me as a risk factor. I can't reveal their names, that would make them paranoid. I don't have anything on Armsmaster that I can use. Velocity is too much of a non-factor in canon, I don't know much about him at all.

Miss Militia, though... she has secrets. One secret in particular, that might just work.

"Miss Militia." I drop my smile and dramatic demeanor, trying to be serious for once. She tenses up as she looks at me.

"I know what you remember."

"You... How?" Miss Militia stumbles over her words, befuddlement clear in her expression. Velocity looks between us, clearly not understanding what the big deal is.

"How what?" I lean on my shovel a bit more as I egg her on. I need her to ask more so I can really sell to the others that I shouldn't know this, without having to reveal anything else.

"How do you know about that? And how did you not forget?" Is that a tinge of hope I hear amidst the uncertainty?

"Trade secret." I put a finger to my lips in the universal sign for "silence". Unfortunately that only makes her more agitated, turning her from confused to irritated.

"You can't just drop that on me and not explain." The hope in her voice is gone, replaced by unwillingness. I feel bad for her, but I can't exactly going around telling people about the entities right now.

"Explaining would cause bad things to happen to both of us. Honestly I've said too much already. If it's any consolation, I will be able to tell you at some point. Just not now" I appease her. Her brows furrow as she tries to formulate a response, but she just sighs instead.

"You... fine. Fine." She mutters, pulling her hand up to her face to massage her forehead. I wait for another response from her, but as the seconds pass I get nothing.

"So... wanna explain what just happened?" Velocity cuts through the awkward silence. I look at Miss Militia and she shakes her head so I hold off on responding. Her secret to tell, and all that.

"He referenced something only I should know. That's enough evidence for me." She sullenly replies, fatigue creeping into her tone. Interacting with me for too long seems to have that effect. Does that count as a superpower? Regardless, I need to head off this conversation before it gets more out of control.

"Look, I'll do you guys a favor if you don't spread that information around." That nets me a pointed look from Miss Militia. Armsmaster is probably giving me a similar look, but that helmet of his is really good at obscuring his features. I continue, turning to Armsmaster, "I trust that you turned off all the surveillance in here, that you know of. But how sure are you that you got everything?"

His lips thin as he understands my implication. He lifts his arm to his helmet, tapping a series of buttons before gazing around the room. After only a few seconds he frowns and points his halberd at the ceiling in a far corner of the room. He presses a sleek indent on the haft and the tip of the halberd unfolds, the spear end tipping over to fold against the side of the axe, revealing a small barrel. I barely catch a glimpse of a pitch black three pronged hook before it flies out without even the slightest sound. Is that his grappling hook? I wonder if I can get him to make me one...

The hooks latch onto something I can't make out across the room before rocketing back to the halberd. Once it's within a foot of him, Armsmaster presses another button and the hooks fly open, letting whatever it grabbed fly into his waiting hand as the grapple works its way back into the halberd. Now that it's closer, I can see that it's a hollow gray box... and that's it. It just looks like some plastic. Did he rip off the shell of a camera on accident? I mean, that was a pretty far shot, I can't fault the guy for missing.

"Damn it." He blurts under his breath as he checks the object over. He fiddles with it for a second, pressing on the corners and trying to crack it open carefully. After a particularly hard squeeze, a subtle snap sounds out as it splits in half, revealing the inside. Wires everywhere, minuscule circuit boards, and a weird translucent black ring lining one side of the shell. If that's a camera, that means Coil saw and maybe even heard everything that just happened. Great.

Staring at the ceiling, a thought strikes me. If he knows I'm a thinker, and he knows that I'm at least aware of moles in the PRT, he's gonna go to ground. He's too paranoid not to. That means it might be a viable option to tell the PRT about him. Risky, but it would help me corner him and cut off any intelligence he's been getting from his civilian identity. Will Cauldron come after me for outing him though? I know he owes a favor to them. No, I don't think so. They haven't come after me yet so they're either respecting the Brockton Bay experiment or more likely, they just don't want to interact with an unknown variable.

"Is that a camera?" With a plan formed, I interrupt Armsmaster from his poking and prodding, causing him to turn to me with a distinctly unimpressed look before turning back to the camera and snapping it back together. It's impressive he can convey such a strong emotion through a helmet that covers most of his face. He latches the camera onto a loop on his suit that definitely wasn't there the last time I looked before turning to me and speaking sternly.

"I don't detect any other hidden cameras. You said something about moles to Miss Militia. What do you know?" Was she catching them up on what happened when she left me in this room? Is that why it took so long?

"Telling you would break the unwritten rules." I give them a hint and gauge their reactions. Velocity quirks an eyebrow at me while Miss Militia gets serious. Armsmaster is the only one that catches what I'm actually saying, his serious look growing more dire as he realizes that the mole is a cape. He stews for a few seconds before coming to a conclusion.

"Good thing we're not being watched then." He states bluntly. The other heroes shoot him a look of incredulity while I grin. Perfect.

"Well-" I barely get a word out before getting cut off by Velocity.

"Woah, hold on. What do you mean?" He questions, looking between me and Armsmaster. I can't really tell who he's asking, so I might as well answer.

"The mole's a cape."

"Mole's a cape."

Armsmaster and I exchange a glance as we both answer at the same time, and I can't stop the chuckle that spills out. If I was asked who I would have the most rapport with out of the Protectorate even a week ago, I wouldn't have said Armsmaster if I had a gun to my head. Yet here we are.

"Oh shit." Velocity goes wide eyed and straightens his posture as Miss Militia tenses up.

"Yeah. So if I tell you who the mole is... y'know." I shrug at them. Velocity looks at the ground for a second before turning into a red blur. Speeding up his thoughts? That'd be a nice power to have. Could I do that? Maybe, I'll have to try it out sometime.

"The rules are unwritten for a reason. A villain in the PRT..." Velocity coalesces back into a person and declares his support. Looking at Miss Militia, she gives a curt nod.

"If I knew you weren't going to be sticklers about this, I would've came to you much sooner." I comment, grinning a bit, but my attempt to lighten the mood doesn't work. I let my grin fade as I continue, "Coil's the mole."

I lean on my shovel again as I watch their expressions change. Confusion, realization, understanding, and anger. They share looks with each other, then turn back to me.

"That... explains a lot. No wonder he's so slippery, he knows we're coming." Miss Militia mutters.

"Yep." I let their thoughts settle for a second before I continue, "Alright, no more suspense. His name is Thomas Calvert, yes, that one. He's a thinker, he can simulate other timelines and pick the best one to follow through with, and he's paranoid as hell. He owns a company that builds Endbringer shelters and used it to make a secret bunker somewhere in the city that he uses as his base. No, I don't know where it is. He controls the Undersiders and he's going to kidnap the mayors niece soon. Oh, and he knows all the secret identities of the Empire capes and will release them if pressured."

A moment passes as the air stills. Armsmaster's expression grows more and more severe while the others reel from the sudden deluge of information. Curiously, Velocity and Miss Militia both look at Armsmaster questioningly, and they only start reacting when he gives them a nod. Probably wanted to know if his lie detector went off. I watch them come to their own conclusions while I think. Was this really the right choice? Hopefully. I definitely can't come back from this now, but if I'm incapable of catching Coil outside his base anyways, might as well make it so that he has to stay there.

"We'll have to verify that before we take action. How do you know all that?" Armsmaster asks, tone dark. Is this what he decides to fight me over? That would be interesting.

"Trade secret." I put a finger to my lips again. Despite my expectations of an argument, he simply nods at me with an angry look on his face.

"Is there anything else you'd like us to know?" His voice has dulled now that the tension is over, but that anger is still there. It's probably anger at Coil and not me, considering his continued politeness.

"No, but I do have a question. I was expecting you guys to try and arrest me, or at least interrogate me. Why not?" Armsmaster is as unflappable as ever, but my words surprise the other two for some reason.

"Do you think we arrest and interrogate every single thinker we come across?" He responds, shocking me a bit. That's... surprisingly reasonable. Damn, I need to remember that dealing with superpowers is just part and parcel for them. My 'normal' sensibilities are biting me in the ass once again.

"Fair point..." I trail off as I realize I have nothing more to add. I've been leading the conversation this whole time, just to be thrown off by a rational decision. That's sad.

"We do need to test your healing, if you're ready now." He interrupts my introspection with firmness. I actually forgot that was what I was here for. A nod gets him to flicker the lights again, which is apparently the sign of the surveillance being turned on and off, while Velocity walks over to the door and waves the workers back in. The stale air is quickly filled with the dull monotony of wheels rolling and shoes squeaking. I didn't realize how quiet it was in here, when it was just the heroes and I. As the workers go around plugging in machines and setting things up, we fall into a silence. I wouldn't call it comfortable, as they're visibly stewing over the information I dropped on them, but at least I don't have to deal with small talk.

It only takes a few minutes for all the workers to finish their tasks. I have to give it to them, they're efficient. Anybody not wearing a lab coat ends up filtering out the door, leaving only me, the heroes, the scientists, and the patients. Time to knock their socks off.

"Alright, what's up first?" I asks, taking a look at the patients. The wounds they have range from a small scratch to a fairly deep gouge. Nothing fatal, or even severe, but it makes me wonder if they keep injured people handy just in case a healer triggers. The two outliers that aren't laying on stretchers but are obviously still patients, wearing gowns and all, are a man in a wheelchair and a large man standing beside him.

"Heal the injuries from left to right. Their vitals will be recorded before, during, and after. If we can't find any detriments, you'll be free to go." Armsmaster steps next to me. I quirk an eyebrow at his wording. Is this an arrest or not? I'm getting mixed signals here.

"Are their vitals taken automatically?" My question gets him to turn to me.

"Yes." He's as curt as always. That's good news though, that means I get to really show off here. I extrude eleven lightly pulsating lines of mana, one for each patient, and attach them. Just for dramatic effect, I raise my right hand and snap at the same time I use [Heal] through all the strands. The effect is as glorious as I hoped, each patient letting out a slightly different groan that coalesce into an orchestra while their wounds mend almost instantly. Thankfully none of them needed more than one pulse of healing, that would've ruined my performance.

"Done. What about those two?" I ignore the surprised look I get from Armsmaster as I point towards the two men at the very end of the line. They look back at me with well hidden hope.

"Todd broke his spine in an Empire attack a few days ago. Gabriel has chronic traumatic encephalopathy. They've offered to help test your healing." I stare at Armsmaster, even as the men walk - and wheel - over. I wasn't expecting names. I look at the two men. Todd, a short white man with a cover over his legs and a brown bushy beard covering the lower half of his face, looks up at me with steel in his eyes and a polite smile. Gabriel, a tall Hispanic man with a short buzz cut looks down at me with some shakiness.

Ugh. Now that I know their names, I can't bring myself to be as harsh with them.

"Hello, Todd. Have you not seen Panacea yet?" I question him. I'm sure she wouldn't turn him away, not with her complex.

"Haven't needed to. My arms still move and that's good enough for paperwork." His voice is a mix of a gravelly rumble and a barely discernible accent I can't place. What a trooper, though. If I were him, I'd be abusing the fact my spine broke to get out of work, not to do more of it.

"Commendable. Forewarning, this'll hurt." His eyes turn resolute as he nods, and I take that as my sign to start. I throw one strand at him and start using [Heal]. A second passes and his face twists in pain, by the next second he's gritting his teeth, and by the third he takes a deep breath. Three more seconds pass, but he doesn't even let out a peep. He's still not done yet, so I keep it going. The tenth second passes and his body starts to lock up as his legs spasm, yet no vocal signs of pain. Twenty seconds pass and he lets out the breath he's been holding as I feel my connection snap. As my focus drops I hear the intense scratching of pencils against paper from behind me.

I look down at him with a new appreciation as he starts wiggling his legs, getting a feel for them again. Dude was half dead and barely flinched when his spine reconnected without any anesthesia. That's impressive.

"Damn, kid. You do good work." Todd stands up, kicking his legs out a bit as he does. Seems like he wasn't in that chair long enough to atrophy the muscles, that's good. I find myself subconsciously rooting for him as he starts to jog, then sprint, around the testing room. Oh no, am I getting soft?

"Not a kid." I absentmindedly remark, still pondering on my mental stability.

"Still do good work. Thanks. I'd love to stay, but some papers need filing before I can get back to the action." And with that, he sprints right past Miss Militia and Velocity and through the door. My stare lingers for a second as I process his abrupt dismissal. What a guy.

"Wait. Did you get his vitals?" I spin to ask Armsmaster, who nods. Cool. I turn to Gabriel, still standing in the same spot he was before that debacle. I point to the wheelchair Todd left behind.

"You're gonna want to sit down for this." I tell him. He doesn't respond, but he does take a seat. I hesitate before I start. Can I heal brains? I've never tried before, but I don't see why I wouldn't be able to. Brain damage is still damage, right?

"I don't know if this'll hurt or not. It might though." His expression doesn't change, he just keeps looking at me. Well, no need to waste time.

I maneuver a single strand to his temple and try to push it through. It struggles for a second, but pops through with a bit of elbow grease. I attach it and start the process. The instant after I use [Heal], Gabriel stiffens up. His mouth shoots open in a silent scream as his eyes roll to the back of the head. I mentally wince as I consider the amount of pain he must be in. If healing a bone can make a man scream, I can't fathom what healing a brain feels like. I hear steps behind me, but I don't turn around. I just keep focusing. Interestingly, the mana cuts off after only ten tense seconds. Half the time it took to heal Todd. Did the healing actually work though?

My question is answered immediately as Gabriel abruptly stands. Unlike before, he's steady. His eyes look sharp, focused, and he has a small grin on his face. He looks down at me and gives me a thumbs up. Hell yeah.

"Ya-" He starts to say something, but stops immediately with a look of shock. What? Did something happen? Murmuring starts to fill the air as the scientists behind me start talking to each other in hushed tones.

"You good?" I ask him, getting another strand ready just in case. He stares off into the distance before making a groaning sound. Oh shit.

"Hh." Before I can heal him again, he looks back at me and his smile goes even wider, still making a grumbling sound in his throat.

"He's mute. Or, he was." Armsmaster steps in, wonder in his voice. Oh, that makes sense. That means I healed him, then. I can heal brain damage. That's fucking awesome. Wait, can I heal Flashbang? That'll score me crazy rep with New Wave.

"You can actually do it." A voice chimes in. Miss Militia somehow crept up behind me, hand over her mouth. Rather redundant, considering her bandana.

"Seems so." I shrug casually, still caught up in the possibilities of being able to work on brains. Does that make me the only good healer for brains? Scapegoat might be able to, but that's... not a good idea, for many reasons. Panacea won't, Bonesaw is Bonesaw, are there any others? I can't remember any, but my memory is flawed.

I get sidelined as Armsmaster pulls out some kind of tinkertech scanner and brings it up to Gabriel. The chrome panel lets out a steady stream of beeps, causing Armsmaster to stare at it in disbelief. He turns around to Miss Militia and Velocity, who also snuck behind me somehow, and gives them a nod. Did I pass, then?

"Say, are there any other heroes that can heal brains?" I prod Miss Militia, trying to tune out Gabriel testing his newfound voice in front of me.

"No, not without consequences." She murmurs, still looking askance at me.

"If that's the case, can I make a contract with the PRT?" Time to capitalize. The amount of money and goodwill I can get by just healing people will be enough to get me whatever the hell I need. She ponders for a second, staring at Gabriel, before responding.

"That'll be up to the Director... but she won't say no." She sounds confident about that.

"When can I meet her?" I never thought I'd find myself actually wanting to meet Piggot.

"As soon as possible." I blink at her serious tone. Is it really that important? Being able to work on brains only makes me slightly special, there are still others that can do it. Unless it's my method that makes it useful?

"And when is that?" I inquire, only for Miss Militia to turn and grab my shoulder.

"Now." While I'm busy balking at her sudden forcefulness, she starts walking to the door we came in from, still holding on to me. I let her believe she's actually dragging me as I walk behind her. Is she really just going to walk me to the Director? That's convenient, but is she really allowed to do this? I take a look back before we exit the room, watching the scientists start scurrying about and grabbing different tools while Armsmaster just stands there talking to himself. Poor Velocity is staring at me wide eyed as I get dragged out. I wave at him as I disappear past the door.

"What about the rest of my tests?" I put up a faux argument, more to take a jab at her than to get her to stop. She doesn't even glance back, still marching onwards.

"We can do that later." She bluntly replies, focused on getting me up the stairs.

"This has to be a breach of protocol, right?" I'm really just playing devils advocate now.

"Exigent circumstances. The Director told me to bring you to her if something important enough came up and you prove to be safe." What the hell? What's happening right now? This is a government organization, there are rules, sometimes for a reason!

"What if I'm a master?" I throw out. She pauses for a second before continuing her insistent death march.

"Then we catch it during our regular screenings, you get birdcaged, and we all spend many hours making sure we're clean." I reel from her response, even as she keeps dragging me further into the building. That's fair, I guess? Wouldn't it be better to not chance it to begin with, though? Then again, if they were that paranoid, the Director would never meet a cape in any way, as anybody could be a master biding their time. And that's not very viable.

I stop musing as we walk into and then through the lobby of the building. I ignore all the weird looks we're getting from office workers and civilians alike as I try to memorize the layout. It certainly won't hurt to know, even if I never get to use it. As we enter the most advanced elevator I've ever seen in my life, I start plotting. What should the contract be? What should I ask for? I can probably ask for some crazy things if this is the type of treatment I'm getting. Thinking back to earlier, getting Armsmaster to make me a grappling hook doesn't seem so far fetched now. Hell, I could probably get an actual place to stay. The ship is nice and all, but I chose it because nobody could find me. Now everyone knows where it is, so I'd rather just have access to a working shower.

I'm brought out of my thoughts as the elevator opens its doors with a sharp ding. Miss Militia finally lets go of me and walks towards a room on the far end of the floor with a placard reading 'Director Piggot, Protectorate East-North-East'. I quickly follow as I look around. More office workers, windows instead of walls... how high up are we? At least fifty feet, from a quick estimate. Definitely close enough to survive if I need to jump.

We reach the fancy wooden door in record time, with Miss Militia giving a customary knock that she doesn't even finish before she barges in. Inside, sitting on a comfortable looking chair, is a large blonde woman with a scowl on her face. That must be Piggot, then. She looks up from reading a stack of papers, brow furrowing as she sees Miss Militia. Then notices me and her entire visage drops.

"Have you made absolutely sure that he's safe?" Piggot questions, her wariness and tension made very obvious as she struggles to her feet.

"That's what I'm saying!" I agree with her dramatically. She stares at me for a second as her expression shifts from anger to confusion. Before she can get another word in, Miss Militia interrupts.

"He can heal brains." Piggot's head swivels towards her, mouth still open as she was about to speak.

"What?" Her anger isn't audible at all anymore, just confusion.

"He's not hostile and he can heal brains. He wants a contract, so I brought him to you." Holy, what a wingwoman. Piggot's eyes narrow as she processes before falling back into her chair and sighing. A tense minute passes as she massages her forehead and thinks, gazing at the table. Finally, she looks back up at us with an inscrutable expression and waves at the chairs.

"Take a seat, then. Thank you, Miss Militia. You can go." Miss Militia gives a curt nod and walks out, leaving Piggot and I to size each other up.

"Director Piggot." I take great care to pronounce her name correctly as I address her. If I remember correctly it sounds French, so I ignore the T. Her eyebrow rises, but I get no indication on whether or not I was right.

"Jack." She replies in kind. Thankfully, her tone isn't indicating that she's angry, but then again, she's basically a politician. I may be good at reading people, but politicians... they don't count.

"I hadn't planned for my first impression to be me getting dragged into your office." I break the ice with humor, but she doesn't show any signs of finding it funny. That's a shame.

"I can imagine. Let's not beat around the bush. What are your terms?" She drags a piece of paper out from under her desk and starts tapping on her desk with a pen. I blink at the sudden tonal shift but quickly center myself. I can appreciate efficiency. I do have a question first, though.

"Do you not want to hear about my healing first?" She stops tapping for a second at my response. Did I throw her off? Good. I need to show that I'm 'not like other capes' if I want to get anywhere here. Does that make me a pick-me?

"That would be prudent, yes." I wait for her to continue the sentence, but nothing comes. She just keeps staring at me with a deadpan gaze. I start to explain before the silence gets overwhelming.

"I can heal up to thirty patients at a time, though that's variable on the severity of what I'm healing. I can heal from up to ten feet away. I can't rejuvenate limbs or get rid of illnesses and diseases. Those are the limits that I know so far, but more might pop up as I heal more people. Oh, and I do have a limit of how many people I can heal before I need a break." I list out. Her gaze turns calculative as her tapping picks up pace. That pen has to be a pressuring tactic, she's way too practiced with it.

"By what mechanism?" She asks casually, like I should know what that means. My brain stutters for a second as I think about the implications of that.

"...I heal?" I respond, and she must see my confusion as she responds with a sigh.

"Yes, but how. Scapegoat shifts injuries between people. Othala gives regeneration. Panacea manipulates biology. Do you not understand your own power?" She grinds out, her pen rattling as she uses it for emphasis.

"I just heal. I use my power on someone, they heal from whatever damage they've sustained. That's it." I shrug at her. A glint of interest flits through her stare before disappearing. Is that not normal for capes? I really need to get a computer so I can look these things up.

"Any side effects? Detriments to yourself or the patient?" She asks. She's being surprisingly thorough... on second thought, that's literally her job.

"No. None to myself for sure, and neither Armsmaster nor Panacea could find any side effects on my patients" I clarify.

"And you can heal brains." A rhetorical question, but I might as well answer anyways.

"Yes. Miss Militia was acting like I was a WMD with the way she dragged me up here. What was up with that?" I shoot back a question of my own. She's taken aback for a second before explaining.

"Few heroes can work on brains. Fewer can heal them. And none can do so without great cost. Except you, if I'm to believe your words. Do you know how many capes get brain trauma from fighting?" She trails off expecting an answer, so I shake my head. She continues, "Countless. In the Protectorate alone, there's at least a dozen heroes that need to be benched every year because of it."

"I see. In that case, I have my terms. You can bring me anybody you want me to heal and I'll do it, but it'll cost you ten thousand dollars, a nice house, and a reasonable commission from Armsmaster." I list my demands. She thinks for a second, staring at various papers on her desk. Eventually she sets her pen down and looks back up at me.

"Ten thousand dollars per person is acceptable, and I can get you a list of available houses nearby. What defines 'reasonable' in regards to your commission?" Ten grand per person? That wasn't my intent, but should I go for it? On one hand, that's a lot of money. On the other... I don't need it. And I can get in her good graces by clarifying.

"What? No, ten thousand dollars total. As for the commission, I'm not going to ask for a power suit or anything. Just a good knife or a grappling hook, I haven't decided yet." For the first time, she shows visible signs of shock. Seeing a 'parahuman' that isn't greedy must be changing her entire worldview.

"That's... doable." She pauses for emphasis. The stern look on her face has softened ever so slightly. I'm making progress... but I'm about to ruin it all.

"I have one last condition." Her expression hardens and I can almost see the thoughts going through her head. 'Oh, of course he has more!'

"What is it?" She asks, resigned. A smile finds its way to my face as I get ready. I let her wait in anticipation for a moment before speaking.

"This is non-negotiable. Let me heal you."