The demon-masked man in front of her collapsed into ash and a sixth sense told her to lean hard to the right just as a knife scraped across her side. He was behind her!

Taylor twisted around and spoke that mouth-numbing word again as her blast of un-light flew directly into the chest of the man who'd tried to stab her.

Who promptly collapsed into white ash. Again.

The air behind her was different. She threw herself forward, too late, as a dagger penetrated her from behind. Not as deep as it could've been, but a stabbed lung wasn't going to be anyone's idea of a good time.

That Thinker power kicked in again as Taylor slowly fell. She was probably going to die. First night out and she fucked up royally and she was going to die. Well, if she was going down, so was he.

She turned her torso as she fell, catching sight of the implacable mask as she shouted out something in another, unknown language and he caught fire. Engulfed, in fact. As if the fires of hell had erupted to consume him.

He collapsed into ash. Ha. Thought that was gonna save him? She'd seen the bandolier of grenades and doubted that being on fire-

BOOOOOM

BOOOOOM

BOOoooom

booooooom

Yup, there it was. Fuck you, Oni Lee. Fire beats clone. Heh, he even turned into ash. For good this time. Oh, that's a lot of blood spreading out beneath you, Taylor. Probably ought to get that taken care of. That fluttery sucking sensation in her chest wasn't great either.

She flop-rolled onto her stomach and tried to get up. "Tried" being the operative word, there. Oh hello again, Mr. Floor.

Taylor heard a scream coming from some distance away and then some hands flipped her cloak back and no, they would see her regular clothes and guess it was her and hands pressed her down, cloth shoved hard against her wound and voices saying "I don't care if you're fucking naked, so am I, go wave down the police, she's dying!" and a siren and a flashlight in her eyes and another, different siren and movement and bright light and A Touch.

Taylor woke up for good to see a teenager who could only be Panacea pulling her hand off Taylor's exposed back. She felt remarkably good for having been stabbed. Oh. Now she wasn't any more.

"Thank you?"

Panacea didn't even look at her as she turned to the next patient being wheeled into the room. In a tired voice, "You're welcome. Don't get hurt again, please."

"I'll try not to." Taylor looked around the room that she guessed was a trauma ward, what with the multiple people with various injuries. A fairly consistent number too, as more were wheeled in as healed ones were wheeled out. Speaking of which, a nurse (orderly? Taylor wasn't sure) pushed Taylor's bed out of the ward into a recovery room, where a young doctor greeted her in a bored tone.

"You have been healed by Panacea under emergent conditions in which your consent could not be obtained. As such, the legal code section 403.995 subsection 197(b) allows the use of parahuman abilities to heal you regardless of the lack of consent. The parahuman who healed you, known as Panacea, is specifically exempt from malpractice suits. Please sign this form indicating that you understand what I have told you."

And shoved a clipboard into Taylor's hands. Wow. That was... perfunctory. Taylor skimmed the short form and yeah, that's what it said, more or less. Oh, and also she waived the right to sue the hospital in the event that she suffered side effects from Panacea's power. Wasn't that convenient for them.

She handed it back unsigned. "Sorry, no. Not signing that."

The doctor (intern?) sighed tiredly and took it back. "Fine. Please wait here for a moment while we get your discharge paperwork."

He turned to one of the nurses behind the recovery room station and said, "Finish this. I have more patients."

A tall black man in scrubs walked over to Taylor. "Sorry about that. He leaves bedside manner to us lowly peons. How're you feeling?"

Taylor went motionless for a moment as she assessed herself. A slow, toothy smile grew over her face before her attention snapped back onto the nurse.

"Like I just rested for a full eight hours. She really knows her stuff, doesn't she?"

The nurse nodded. "Yeah, you were lucky she was on duty here tonight. Otherwise you'd probably still be in surgery. Now, I just need to do some quick neurological tests to make sure you don't have a concussion. If you'll follow this penlight with your eyes only..."
The next few minutes were a fast barrage of simple tests before the conclusion was that she was probably not going to keel over from brain damage. After receiving the all-clear, the nurse handed her a packet of papers from a printer behind the nurse's station.

"What, not going to ask for payment?" Taylor asked in mild surprise.

"Well, if you're willing to pay I'm sure that the hospital won't mind, but there are procedures in place to cover anonymous care for capes. And 90% of what they would've charged you for was provided free by Panacea, so..."

"So... I'm free to go?"

"Well, I hope you'd be willing to talk with me before you leave."

Taylor turned to see a woman in a dark gray and white bodysuit with a circuit-like design on it standing just inside the doorway to the recovery ward. Battery. A Protectorate cape here for her. Of course. Taylor blinked slowly, steeling herself, then smiled underneath her mask.

"Of course! I assume you don't mean here in public, though. Is there a room or something that your people have reserved for your own use?" Taylor spoke confidently, channeling every bit of pleasantness she could scrounge into her voice."

The corner of Battery's exposed mouth twitched below her visor. "No, but they usually let us use a conference room if one's free. Unless you'd like to come with me to the PRT station...?"

Taylor was already shaking her head. "No, but thank you for the offer. I'm afraid we'll have to keep this short, as I have other obligations. I'm sure you understand."

Battery inclined her head slightly. "Of course. But at the least, can I get your name for my report? Cape name, that is."

Taylor took a deep breath. She hadn't quite been ready to reveal herself to the cape authorities so soon, but nobody could control everything.

"You can call me Argent."