2.1 (Cauldron & Sleeper)

They're all seated together around a featureless table; the Doctor in her white lab coat, Alexandria dressed all in black, Contessa with her suit and fedora and Eidolon, the most powerful parahuman on Earth, almost forgettable with his mundane appearance. The doors open, and the Number Man walks in, Dinah Alcott at his side.

"This her?" Eidolon asks.

The newcomers take a seat at the table. The Doctor answers the question. "Dinah Alcott. We retrieved her from a former associate of ours. He wasn't kind." Eidolon's expression darkens but he doesn't say anything.

"She's a Pre-cog," Alexandria says. "One of the more powerful ones on record."

"Which doesn't explain why she's here," Eidolon says. "She has to be... what? Twelve? Thirteen?"

"I knew too much," says the Pre-cog. She laughs bitterly. "Besides, saving the world? There are worse causes to be a part of."

Eidolon is silent for a long moment. His hands are clenched into fists on the table. "Are you okay with this? Really?"

Dinah shrugs. "I didn't have much choice. Besides, it's better than the alternatives."

Eidolon frowns before turning his eyes towards Alexandria, and past her towards the woman in the suit. Contessa meets his gaze, and Eidolon looks away. Something akin to shame passes across his features. "I'm sorry," he says.

Dinah nods. "I know. Yet you don't do anything."

Eidolon looks towards the others. "I take it Simon won't be joining us today? You keeping him out of the loop on this as well?"

"He's in Brockton Bay still," Alexandria says.

"Has he found anything yet?"

Alexandria frowns, "Results are inconclusive. But his presence has proven useful for keeping the peace."

"Doesn't matter," Dinah says. "Bigger things are in play."

"What is going on exactly?" asks Eidolon. "Have you found out what happened? What caused that..." His voice goes silent, wistful. He smiles bitterly. "I suppose I should stop getting surprised when the world fucks us, right?"

"Unfortunately there's not much we do know," the Doctor says. "Something new. And powerful. It's set to destroy everything, if we play this wrong."

Eidolon looks towards Dinah. "Did they get this from you?"

Dinah huddles in her chair, looking even smaller than her age might suggest. "Don't make me remember," she whimpers.

"Unfortunately there's not all that much we know either," Alexandria admits reluctantly. "Three names, three faces, but little understanding as to how they all fit together."

Three photos sat together on the table, attached to three Protectorate-issue Parahuman files. Attached to those files were the names Taylor Hebert, Sarah Livsey and Sleeper. Eidolon picks up Sleeper's file and leafs through it. "He's left Russia then?"

"Guess who just set up shop in Brockton Bay?" the Number Man asks rhetorically. "Three guesses. The first two don't count."

Alexandria nods from her place at the table. "First you have the Incident, and then Sleeper comes out of solitude. You have to guess there's a connection." She looks towards Dinah.

"82.45 per-cent."

Eidolon stares at her for a long moment. She looks down towards her feet. "The probability of Sleeper connected in all this."

"It's suspicious don't you think?" Alexandria asks.

"Dangerous though," Eidolon replies. "You remember what happened in Omsk. What Sleeper did to land on our radar."

"89 per-cent chance he can be negotiated with. Sometimes he responds poorly, but not like that."

Eidolon frowns and looks towards the other two photographs. "I see. And the other two?"

"We've discussed it already," says the Doctor. "Sarah doesn't respond well to most overtures. As for Taylor..."

"The numbers skew."

"And I take it, this will be Legend's responsibility? While he's in Brockton Bay?" Eidolon looks towards Contessa. "Or are you headlining this one personally?"

"Legend's the best choice," Dinah says.

Eidolon looks towards the woman in the suit. Contessa shrugs. "I don't do well with dragons."

"Lung," he says.

Dinah nods. "94.85 per-cent chance that any cooperation with Sleeper leads us in a path towards Lung."

"Sleeper and Lung... I didn't know they had history."

"They don't," says Alexandria. "Which doesn't make this any easier."

"You've been delaying this."

The Doctor shrugs. "The stakes are high. We need to account for any potential variables. Collate the data. Especially with the personalities involved."

"You've never let fear paralyze you before."

The Doctor's expression sours, as the Number Man chuckles. "You're naive if you honestly believe that one."

Eidolon ignores the comment. "So, where is he now?"

Alexandria frowns. "In a bar."

"We're going through with this now," the Doctor says. "Once and for all. For better or worse."

Contessa gets up from her seat, opens a portal and exits the room.

L

Simon isn't in costume when he stops outside the bar. It's a decision he can't entirely say he's comfortable with, knowing what he knows about the person inside. Knowing what he knows about his own history as part of the Triumvirate, or as husband and father. Still Alexandria had insisted he keep this low profile, and his costume wasn't good at inconspicuous.

"You don't want to attract attention with this," she had told him. "Let's avoid stirring a panic."

After everything that had happened here, the least they needed was for everyone to know the Terror of Omsk had arrived. He's still not sure quite how they managed to keep that fact hushed up, but he has an idea. He knows what his colleagues are capable of. Still, he supposes some things are better off not thought about.

Like this. Meeting out of costume with the fucking Sleeper. He pushes open the door and steps into an mostly empty room. Two people are awaiting him. The first is his old comrade, the Doctor's bodyguard, Contessa. She is sitting at the bar, with a drink in hand. The second stands behind behind the counter, wiping away at a dirty glass. He is plain featured, almost bookish, with his clothes ironed and pressed. He'd almost look forgettable, but Simon had seen that face before, and the file attached to it. So it is come to this at least: a meeting with the Sleeper.

"You've kept us waiting," the Sleeper says. "Your friend said I should expect you. You are Legend, yes?"

Simon turns towards Contessa, "You sure we can trust him?"

"He has little interest in any of us," Contessa replies. "You're family's safe. I'm watching them."

The Sleeper nods. "Good. Then it's time for the pleasantries, yes? I could almost call this exciting, no?" He sets the glass down on the table. "You may call me Dmitri. As for you two?"

"Fortuna," Contessa says, without skipping a beat. Simon pauses, and the word feels lodged in his throat.

Dmitri studies him for a long time. "I see. Trust is hard to come by. But you would trust your associates in the Protectorate with far more than a mere name, would you not?"

"You're not them," he says, the words summoned as if on their own, breaking free from censure. Contessa watches, silently, and for a moment he wonders if she will step in. Try to diffuse this. Or if even now, she has everything running according to script.

Dmitri starts laughing, loud and earnest. "You are honest. I like that. Most people when faced with me aren't so honest you understand. Most would give up whatever it was I asked for. Makes life rather boring, between you and me."

Simon looks back towards Contessa, feeling strangely paralyzed. He wonders whether this was the first such meeting between them, or if there were others preceding this. She rarely left such things to chance. He's not quite sure what to think of it. He's not quite sure what to think of any of this. Meeting out of costume, in a bar of all places. It's not what he sighed up for.

"I've vetted everything," Contessa says. "Studied the Sleeper, tried to prepare for this. But no. Nothing more than that."

"So it's just us three," Simon says.

"Is it?" Dmitri smiles. "I'd think there's a lot more than just the three of us involved. So then, let's get down to... how do you Americans say it? Brass tacks, yes? You have something for me, don't you?"

Contessa pulls out a pair of photographs and lays them on the table. Simon picks them up, astonished to find the faces of two teenage girls. Barely more than children.

Sleeper smiles, "I was wondering if anyone noticed those two." He steeples his finger, "Tell me, because I'm curious. Which do you think is the greater threat?"

Contessa doesn't even hesitate. "Lisa."

Sleeper grins. "I've heard stories of you. They call you the Bogieman, don't they? That you know all, see all. Never make a mistake." He pauses. "You're good. Playing to my vanity, my need to make dramatics, offering me my teaching moment."

"So we're correct then. Taylor is the bigger threat."

Sleeper laughs. "They're both threats. But if it's a weapon against the Destroyer you're looking for, Taylor would be the horse to back."

Contessa leans forwards, all ears as he elaborates. Legend sits back, listening, letting Contessa take the lead for now. But he'll make sure to mark his questions for later. He has many.

"You call it Scion, of course. We call it the Destroyer."

"Wait," Legend interrupts. "You're telling us to turn two schoolgirls against Scion?"

"No, no, no. You misunderstand me. I'm not telling you to do anything so prosaic as that. I would have thought your group would have figured things out by now." He looks towards Contessa, "And you have, I assume. Tell me, do you often play dear Legend for a stooge? I'd think he'd know a bit more of what we were up against."

Contessa looked towards Legend. "I'm sorry. There's too much we don't know, and we couldn't be sure... Keep the information protected, you know how it works."

Legend studies her, not sure if he can trust her, not knowing if this is another game. He turns back towards Sleeper. "I suppose it doesn't matter. Whether or not I'd been told. Not much I could have done about it anyway?"

"Ah, but you could be a danger you know," Sleeper agrees. "Drawing any kind of target on their backs would be unwise. Still, if wishes were horses maybe the lot of us would be riding right now, rather than sitting in this bar."

"You've gotten distracted," Contessa says.

Sleeper nods. "I do that. See what happens when you're not here to keep this cat herd grounded? Now, where was I? Yes. As far as Scion goes, you'd be best keeping Scion far away from those two. Bad things will happen otherwise."

Contessa nods. "We suspected that much. Hoped for more, but it's not a surprise."

"If only it were so easy, no?"

"If only."

Sleeper smiles. "And so you come to me, plotting to suss out their secrets. Sadly, telling such things would be impossible. Some things can't be shared through word of mouth."

"What's your solution then?" asks Legend.

Sleeper smiles. "It's simple. You and I. Lisa and Taylor. We all have a shared enemy of sorts, and in chasing it, I'm sure some truths will come to focus."

"You're talking about Scion," says Contessa.

Sleeper's smile widens into a grin. "I've always wanted to kill a god."

"Killing Scion, is it possible?"

Sleeper thinks on this for a while. "Well not for you, certainly not as you are right now. But still, there's a chance. A small one, I fear, but a chance."

There's a beat of silence. Contessa studies him for a long moment and then smiles a feral smile, and unlike most of her expressions, this one looks more real than artificial. "I'm in."

Sleeper holds up his glass. "Well then, here's a toast to the future. Let's kill a god."