8.8

It let us go.

Its name… it has no name. Maybe it did once. But it's been lost now. Its only known as the Darklurker now.

I learned that… or at least a part of me did.

A lot of parts of me have learned… or something. Perhaps taken, or stolen is the better word.

And maybe a part or two of me is missing…

Militia. Legend. Eidolon. Alexandria, the blond girl...We fly out of the ancient, black chasm and its shade follows us. Flitting in and out of sight. Everywhere and no-where at once.

There's no time for questions, not for me, and not for them. They want to leave. Fear, concern, uncertainty…

They don't like this place. They don't trust it.

I only recognize Militia and Legend at first. The others… It's… odd. A blotch of ink over my memory. Murky, clouded… but with enough time and enough context… maybe I can figure out what used to be there in this now gone memory.

The blond girl in particular. I know her. I know that I know her. I have her face, but no place. A voice but no context. I've seen someone use the power she has before but where and why elude me.

I should know her… I should be able to say her name. But I can't. She helped me before. Did it when I felt the whole world had been crumbling around me. And I just don't know her!

We move at Militia's word. Listening to her as she guides us through the crags and pools of cave water.

When the light finally finds us… it's a sudden thing. There's no warning. No glimmer at the end of a long tunnel. One step it's absent and in the next… I feel my eyes sting… staring into the blinding brilliance of a floodlight.

"Set up a quarantine, full roundup of tests for all of them. Master-Stranger and Biological workouts immediately."

I don't recognize the voice. Don't recognize her either.

PRT agents step forward in fully sealed gear, moving towards everyone. Encroaching on us. On Me.

I feel small. Boxed in. Trapped.

And I don't like it.

I miss the chasm already, even if it meant I had to be in a half-lidded state. It was better than here.

I'm not sure what exactly I'm going to do to the first one of these so called 'good guys' that tries to put me back in another cage barely half a second after I'm back but I know it's not going to end well for him.

"You'll get reports for casualties once you're cleared." The Fedora wearing woman said to Alexandria. "The only notable one I can think of off the top of my head is the local New Wave cape."

Suddenly… I was cold.

The indignant, frustrated anger bled out of me from the fresh wound that was the effect of the woman's unwitting reminder.

Yeah… Vicky was gone now...

Instantly, I can feel myself weighed down. Hunger, pain, fugue, sadness… They come to me all at once… all over again.

It reminds me rather abruptly where I am. Tells me that I'm gone from the Dark place.

Where things are… peaceful...

It makes me miss it. Makes me want to go back.

But I can't. Vicky wanted me to keep going, didn't she…

Yeah… yeah she did.

Having good friends sucks…

Heh...

...Goddamnit Vicky.

Why'd you have to go and be a good friend?

(X)

When the radios crackled to life on the private channel, it was as loud as a thunderbolt, and everyone in that room all held their collective breath as they listened with rapt attention.

"We've got them. They're back and en-route to base."

A cheer, an honest to god cheer, went up from both heroes and villains. After an hour with absolutely no word from the three missing Triumvirate members worry was beginning to spread that something had gone wrong. And even the notion of losing all three of them along with the possibility of not finding Taylor at all was something that had left a lot of people deathly afraid.

Mouse Protector herself included really.

But she was the commander now. No room to show or voice those worries anymore. Colin would have probably done a better job at it, but she liked to think she made a respectable attempt of it.

"Penny for your thoughts."

She turned, surprised at the identity of the would be conversationalist.

"Faultline right? Didn't take you for a conversationalist."

The woman shrugged. "Endbringer's just dropped a notch on the goddamn food chain. Even if I don't strictly play the heroes and villains game BS that a lot of other parahumans live by, even I can see that the nice, safe status quo might have just been kicked straight to shit. So yeah 'Hero commander' I'll ask again. What do you think about all this? You've been living said status quo for two decades at least. Enlighten me if you please."

"Gee. Thanks for making me feel so young." She snarked, then shrugged. "Honestly?"

"No. Lie to me." Was the sarcastic reply.

The heroine rolled her eyes. She was too tired to give proper comebacks and witty retorts right-now. She made a mental note to piss her off twice as bad as normal next time she saw her.

"My honest opinion is Who the hell gives a shit?"

Faultline's eyebrows hiked their way up to her hairline. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. Sure. Shit's gonna change. But, hell, life changes every-day. Whatever happens, happens. No use worrying about it. We'll deal with it and the changes as they show up. Roll with the punches. I ain't gonna bite my fingertips off, worrying about what I can't stop or change. I'll just deal with-" She stopped. Fingers snapping. "Oh. Holy hell I almost forgot. We'll continue this discussion at the probable cause hearing."

The woman let her depart with a flip of a bird, allowing her to march out of the tent into the barely illuminated ash clouded daylight.

Jennifer waltzed through the camp, negotiating through the throng of people that went this way and that way. Hustling now as much as they were hours ago. Some were leaving, going back home out of state, just as PRT agents that had evacuated were arriving to take their place in the workforce.

She still couldn't get a clear line to Dollerant, too much interference with static and the like. But she had little doubt she'd be seeing her tomorrow morning. Maybe tonight if she was half as crazy as Jennifer thought her to be.

She finally found her way over towards the Medical tent, number 1. The one reserved for people with the least deadly or painful injuries. Only place they had available really.

Stepping in, her eyes perused over the beds and the people on them. All masked. Some she recognized, others she didn't.

Finally, she found him.

"Mr. Hebert?"

The man had no reaction, hunched over on a bench, staring at a certain spot on the floor as if it held the answer to all of life's mysteries.

"Mr. Hebert."

Still no response, even when she stepped up right in front of him.

She reached down, snapping her fingers in front of his eyes. "Hey! Mr. Hebert!"

Finally, a reaction, his whole body jerked before his head snapped up, blinking in flat surprise. "Wh-ah...Yes! Yes? I'm sorry."

"Musta been thinkin' about quite a lot, huh." She smirked. "Well you can stop thinkin' too much. We got her back sir."

She expected relief, perhaps even elation.

And while the relief was there, easily found in the immediate sag of his shoulders and his eyes that practically gleamed as the worry lines eased just slightly, it was replaced by something else. Some emotion that she couldn't name or really place…

He looked away from her, back down to the floor. "Does… does she want to see me?"

She blinked. Thoroughly surprised. Was there some kind of red-flag family history she missed in Taylor's files?

"Why wouldn't she?" She asked with all the tact and delicacy of a rampaging bull. Nice job Jen.

Oh well… she comforted herself with the knowledge it still wasn't as bad as Colin.

She focused on Hebert and saw his mouth open, as if he was going to say something before he closed it. Looking for all the world like a man lost at sea, drowning amidst the whitewash flood.

He nodded. "Y-yeah… yeah you're right."

(X)

"Hero of New Wave. Identity: Glory Girl. Time of Death, estimated at 6:43 P.M. Eastern Standard Time…" Dale O'Conner mused as he looked at the report and at the body bag on the coroner's table. Being a mortician was always a relatively thankless job, but on days like these it was particularly hard. It was worse when they were young. And there were always plenty of young after Endbringers.

No autopsies had to be done, they were expressly illegal in Endbringer attacks, but there had to be a log of casualties at the very minimum.

And this so far was the fifty-seventh Cape found amongst the dead, ashen swamp that was Brockton Bay. More came in every half hour or so as they were found and transported. By the usual estimates it could be ten, or maybe even forty more before the night was done. Compared to what he had heard from other Endbringer attacks, this was estimated to be the lowest casualty mark in terms of deaths. The Simurgh didn't count as her victims were dead men walking.

He needed a vacation after this. Somewhere warm. With a lot less rain. Miami perhaps.

Sighing, he moved to update his log and read up on the report. The cape that brought her in, Brandish, wanted Victoria to be buried.

He wrote into and updated his people had to be delivered properly to the ones that requested the body and mix-ups were practically a capital offense as far as the Cape population was concerned. Some stories had people waking up to their cars on the roofs of their house in retaliation, with no other capes showing up to help for weeks, if they showed up at all.

He reached over and unzipped the bag, finding the young woman's body, the injuries that had run her through at several points plainly visible. Her white costume was practically red with blood, he could see bloody finger tracks over her face, where someone had tried to wipe the blood off her face.

He reached into his chest pocket, finding it empty of his cigarettes.

"Huh." He turned around, looking towards the other side of the room. "The hell did I-?

There was a glimmer of light at his back, like someone turned on a floodlight for a second before shutting it back off.

He turned around, curious but not seeing anything behind him except more bags and more corpses…

He blinked and turned to and fro, searching for whatever may have given the light before he shrugged.

He went to zip up the bag-

"Jesus Christ it's freezing… Can you turn on the heat?"

He looked straight down and found Glory Girl's blue eyes staring up at him as she shivered.

Dale did the only thing one rationally did when faced with a dead person suddenly staring back up at them.

He screamed, shoved the table so hard it slammed into an adjacent table, before he turned and bolted out of the room, screaming like a madman.

Vicky for her part, all but slid off of her table and hit the body on the other. When she realized she was touching a corpse, even with a bag between them, she tried to pull away, arms flailing awkwardly as her body rested in the empty space between tables before gravity took hold and she landed shoulder first on the very, very cold floor.

"Ooowww." She groaned, her thoughts sluggishly registering the pain before she made a very distinct and clear note of the fact that 1) She was feeling pain after taking one hit. And 2) That she fell!

She sat herself up, pulling herself to a sitting position with bag and all before she started peeling it off of herself.

She felt like hell.

She looked around, her mind sluggishly beginning to catch up with the waking world.

"Oh my god!" She gasped. Eyes wide as he mind finally caught up to reality. "There are dead people in here!"

(X)

Quarantine would normally be held in the basement of the PRT building. Taylor's own Dragon customized rooms was about three hallways separated from it. It was similar to the Wards dorm room in the fact that it was a series of rooms that could be allowed to open up into a common area with a kitchen, seats and television, just as each could be kept as an isolated cell, completely cut off from the outside world if it was necessary.

But with the PRT basement being under-water, along with its first and second floors, isolation was a clear plastic monstrosity hastily built onto one of the drier sections of road on Main Street. Hazmat suits and CDC classic construction that hadn't been seen since Tinker-tech made response equipment far more advanced and effective was back in full force.

The 'Iso-Ward' was just one big space, sealed on all four sides plus ceiling by plastic. It had a bathroom behind a cubicle, quite a distance away and the doorway, which was around the only available corner, was clear plastic, zipped up tight. It allowed them to communicate with the world outside, such as it was. The only privacy to speak of was a series of screens that could shield the futon beds from one another when pulled.

One by one they were ushered into the room with me. Legend, Eidolon, Alexandria, Militia, the girl… Lisa.

It's absurd. Especially for the Triumvirate. They're three of the most powerful people in the world. And they're dressed in hospital scrubs with their masks on.

Its Lisa that sits across from me first, smiling. "Hey!" She smiled. "Been a while."

I blink. Has it?

It takes me a second to think. And I realize then that my memories are… strange. Clear. All equally clear. As if they all took place minutes ago.

It's only by remembering the sequence of events that I can remember. Yeah. It has been a while.

Her eyes have gone a little wider when I turn back to her to answer. "Where did you go?"

She shrugged. "Things got… complicated. You got picked up by the PRT. Which I think was for the best to be frank. I got found out by the PRT with everything I did to take down Coil and help you. And…" She shook her head as she shrugged. "Shit got…"

"Complicated." I finished for her.

She smiled apologetically. "Wanted to come and help ya with everything… they wouldn't let me near though." Then the apology in her smile vanished, replaced by a smug sense of satisfaction. "I think they were just scared shitless of the awesomeness we'd get up to if they left us together. I mean, we did run rings around them."

Before the conversation could continue, someone else walked up. Alexandria. She was in a hospital gown plus a surgical mask, given the cumbersome nature of her helmet.

It just reinforced the ridiculousness of the whole thing in my mind.

"Ms. Hebert." She said, choosing to take a seat beside Lisa on the bed. "We need to speak of all the events that have transpired so far."

As she spoke, the absurdity of knowing that it was Alexandria behind a surgical mask and hospital clothes just kept becoming more and more ridiculous in my mind, more and more humorous.

Don't know why really. Hell, as Alexandria's eyebrow hiked up a bit in either irritation or curiosity, I still found it funny.

"Might I ask what exactly you find so humorous?"

Suddenly, it hit me.

Just why it was so absurdly funny.

"I must have the worst secret identity in goddamn history."

I snickered, closing my eyes for a moment before opening them again, staring at a spot on the floor between Alexandria's slippered feet.

"Seriously." I continued, uncaring. "It's freaking ridiculous. Half of Winslow knows who I am probably. Aisha practically pounced on it the first day, any cop with half a mind to look through police records knows, every PRT agent knows after they were put on alert for Surtr. Coil fucking knew. I wasn't offered a mask and until I saw all of you with one I didn't even think of getting one!" I rambled, the giggles clawing their way up my throat even as I tried to stop them. "This is just…"

I trailed off, shaking my head. Not giving voice to the thought.

"Ms. Hebert." She ventured again after a moment of silence. "I can understand that you're overwhelmed, and that this is coming at you all one thing after another with barely any room to breathe or think. But I'm afraid time isn't exactly a luxury we have very much of at the moment. We need to know what exactly it was that happened. With Leviathan, in the immediate aftermath, your condition, the location that we found you in. All of these are questions that we need to have answered for a multitude of safety reasons, especially yours."

Heh... Leviathan. I caught sight of his carcass on the drive. His body towering over the rubble of buildings. Still standing by virtue of being buried up to his torso in a mound of ash and corpses. A cairn that held him upright, even as his arms hung down loose and his eyes remained open, burning with life, but utterly unmoving and unresponsive.

He would be hard to miss.

They said I killed it. The PRT agent that had been sitting next to me in the truck said that it was a brave thing I did.

I have to wonder… how brave it could be if I can remember nothing of it?

My memory moves and shifts, the patterns becoming clear and sequenced, telling me of what I've seen, what I've done, all I felt.

But I can only feel fear from it. Fear. Concern. Desperation. Pain… there is so much pain, especially towards the end. Pain has burned away everything, and there's nothing left. Nothing but white hot rage…

Where in all of that am I brave?

That wasn't brave.

I was just pissed.

"Ms. Hebert." She began again.

I looked up, staring at this woman who, a lifetime ago was my idol. And now I can't decide whether or not she's just one more cog in what is life's 'Fuck with Taylor' machine.

How much longer before she's just like Armsmaster, or Militia in my eyes.

"You can stop asking." I said. "I don't even remember killing Leviathan, so I couldn't even tell you how I could do it again."

She frowned, leaning forward. "It's something we can investigate later I suppose. Let's not focus on what you can't tell us. What can you tell us?"

It says quite a bit that my first thought is to respond:

'Why should I?'

But before I can speak, I hear a familiar voice call out from just beyond a plastic screen doorway.

"Taylor?"

I look, surprised, before stepping off the bed and making my way over.

"Dad!"

He's standing there, behind the plastic screen. He looks haggard and worn. His eyes are red and bloodshot, his skin pale and waxy.

"You okay?" I have to ask.

His mouth opens and the shock on his face is clear before he shakes his head. "Don't… don't worry about me. How are you? Are you… How… can I help?"

I shrugged "Not much you can do. Its Quarantine. I guess go talk to Dollerant if you want. See what she tells ya."

He didn't say anything for a long time, just stood there at the doorway, staring at me. He looked away, up to the plastic, his face darkening for a moment as if he was considering ripping it to shreds before finally turning back to me, the frustrated anger on his face disappearing to be replaced by sadness. "What… what happened kiddo?"

I shrugged. What could I tell him? There was nothing I could say that I knew of that would make him feel better. Ease his fears. Make it better.

"I'm not sure." I lied, before immediately moving to get him away from this conversation. We could talk more later, after he'd calmed down. After he'd had time to take his mind off of today.

"You should go home dad. If it was flooded… if something happened then you gotta find out so we can start getting ready to deal with that."

"I don't want to leave you alone!" He answered.

I shrugged. "It's okay Dad. I'll be fine on my own."

Instantly I know something's wrong. My dad's expression just crumbles, his features twisting with sadness… grief. I'm not sure what I've done wrong or what happened, but instantly I wish I could take it back.

He nods, and I can almost see him swallow down the lump in his throat. "Yeah… whatever you say Taylor."

He turns, and I want to call him back, ask him what's wrong, but the words die on my throat. I don't know what happened. I don't know what's wrong. What exactly was I going to say? Or apologize for?

After a second longer, he's gone and all I can wonder is where the hell I screwed up.

When I step back into the room, Lisa is looking at me, and I'm immediately and uncomfortably reminded as to what her power exactly is…

"Everything alright?" It's Legend that asks, his concern showing easily on his face. How false is it I wonder?

"I'm sorry for being abrupt. But I must insist that you sit down and talk to us Ms. Hebert." Alexandria spoke, interrupting my reverie.

"Jesus H. Christ can you give it a rest?" Lisa scowled. "She's worried about her dad. And her house and everything else. Save your interrogation til she's gotten a night's rest at least."

Alexandria turned and looked at her, glaring. "For all we know, our retrieval of her could lead to that thing following us back here. Or for Surtr to come back in an actual physical form. If it makes me the bad guy to try and prepare for that eventuality then I can live with-"

"His name is Raime."

"-tha-" She stopped, turning to me. "What?"

"His name." I drawled, perusing through my memories and the things I learned; took like a buffet line of new information. Now having… enough of me to properly contemplate and consider all of it. Put it together and make sense of everything.

I knew his name before… like… knowledge placed directly into my brain that I couldn't remember where I learned of it. Like I'm a little girl who can't remember where she'd ever heard the name Alexander the Great, but knows its significant.

Now… now I know Raime. What he was, what he is, his story.

But even Aldia doesn't know the dark woman's name. The one in my head with Raime. But I know enough now to say what she is.

A Daughter of the Abyss…

And the Abyss…

How much knowledge did Aldia keep in his home?

And why let me leave with what I took?

I took a breath, looking at her. "His name. It's not Surtr. Its Raime"

She leaned forward. "Alright… what else do you remember?"

I shrug. "Not much… the last thing I remember is Vicky dying… and I'm angry. Angry at Raime, and at my… power. At the woman that gives me power."

"Your sentient power." She surmised. "You're saying that this Raime isn't the sentience of your power?"

"No." I answer. "He's just a knight. Her Knight. He was a tag-along to her. She's a queen… I think… all the others I know of are some kind of royalty."

"Others!?"

It was Militia that spoke up, the surprise clear on her face.

It takes me a second to realise that I'd said that last bit of musing out loud.

I mentally shrug. Why the hell not. It's not like keeping this to myself was gonna help me any.

"There are a few like mine. I think. There's only three that have been seen or heard from recently though. Elana, Alsana and Nashandra. They're called Daughters of the Abyss or something."

"What are these Daughters and what are their abilities and how powerful are they compared to yours?" Alexandria asked, deadly serious, blue eyes hiding a deep, disturbed concern.

I shrug. "Don't know. Nothing to compare it too. Don't think the sisters ever fought. Elana uses poison and… sheer brute strength." The last thing I wanted to do was say something as insane as Soul manipulation… "Nashandra is… a manipulator? I guess? She's a queen too from what I know."

I shrug again. "Oh, and Alsanna uses ice."

"Ice?" Alexandria asked.

"Yeah."

The woman's face became even more stony. "I… see. And you know nothing of yours?"

"Nah. I only found out about the most recent of these things that's been seen. There are more. No one really knows how many more. And lord only knows when was the last time mine was-"

There was a rapid series of smacks on the plastic doors behind me. Two hands slapping the taut, clear plastic.

I turned, confused and curious as to why someone was hitting the plastic doorway like that.

And my mouth fell flatly open, my eyes going wide as they could be.

Vicky.

It was Vicky.

She beamed a megawatt bright smile before sticking her tongue out on the other side of the plastic.

She was in a hospital robe just like us and a PRT agent in a Hazmat suit was unzipping the doorway.

She was coming into Quarantine?

The Hazmat wearing agent finished opening the doorway, stepping back to allow two more agents, each one carrying a stretcher cot to walk in, bedding in hand.

"What… how… I-"

"Wassup Tay-Tay?!"

Instantly, all the questions and confusion vanished. All but withering away as she smiled that stupid smile and called me that stupid name!

I said nothing, staring gobsmacked at the girl in front of me. "D-Don't call me that!"

She smiled, sticking out her tongue again. "You're no fun girlfriend."

I looked up at her. "How? I… I watched you die! I… I saw you-" your soul. There in that place… you were dead…

She shrugged. She comes back from the dead and she shrugs… "Dunno… brain kinda caught up and I'm still asking that myself. All I can remember is meeting some some old dude with like, the most epic beard ever. He touched my forehead, said come cryptic shit that made absolutely no sense and next thing I know I'm waking up and getting foamed. That sucked, so is the fact that my power's acting wonky and I'm stuck in quarantine but I'm alive so that's something to be-ack!

I was hugging her. I'm not sure when the hell I moved but one second I'm an arms-length away, the next she's right in front of me with my arms wrapped around her, hugging her arms onto her side.

I blinked away the tears, or tried to, sniffing and hiccuping as I tried to not leave her shoulder a wet mess of tears. God only knew if they'd replace it if she asked.

I felt her trying to hug me back even though it was a little awkward with the way I was holding her arms.

"We got our hug moment after all huh!?" She laughed.

I snorted…

Idiot. My friend is a complete idiot. An optimistic naive dumb blonde muscle prom queen idiot.

And I was so glad I didn't lose her!

(X)

Alexandria moved to open her mouth, a whole new series of questions rushing to the forefront of her mind and making a contest for which should be voiced first when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

She turned, looking over her shoulder to find David there. "Don't. We'll continue this tomorrow."

She scowled. "There is still an incredible risk. Someone just came back from the dead and she mentioned that there are at least three others out there and one might already be-"

"If it was Hero standing there… would you really want to be interrupted and interrogated by a total stranger?"

Her mouth clicked shut, a cloud falling over her features.

David nodded. "The world won't end in twenty-four hours Dria. Let her have tonight at least."

She sighed, aggravated. "There is still so much that-"

He shrugged, interrupting her. "Whatever happens… happens. And we'll deal with it if it does. You can breathe, Dria."

"We have to make preparations. World leaders. Contingencies, overhaul our scenarios and predetermined-"

"Dria."

She sighed, leaning back before looking to the still crying Taylor. He saw her features soften ever so slightly. "...Fine…"

She closed her eyes. "Things are going to change you know."

"I know." He answered. "But… after everything. I think we've earned a little change."

"Scary isn't it?" It was Lisa who spoke up, smirking a bit. Completely unrepentant as to her eavesdropping. "Kinda hard to even wrap your head around."

Rebecca didn't say anything, taking a deep breath. Trying with all her considerable will to… let it go. Just for a few hours. To stop worrying and thinking.

To just… relax.

"We'll be fine Dria." It was Legend that spoke up this time, speaking loud enough to be heard as Victoria finally made her way into the room, greeting Militia who had been keeping to herself.

He could read her emotions clear as day, even through her mask.

He smirked at her.

"We are Heroes after all, right?"

She snorted, a smile threatening to tug at her own lips for the first time tonight.

"I guess so."

Legend chuckled. David sat down on his cot, his piece said.

Was it really so simple for them? Just sit back and let whatever happens happen? Deal with it as it comes their way?

Rebecca shook her head, smiling.

...Idiots… Complete idiots.

Arc 8: Homeward

Fin.

(X)(X)(X)

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