Sorry it took so long, people on FFN. For those of you who follow me on SB, I'm sorry the end took so long.

Creation 3.1

I quickly left the store, clutching onto my purchases like they would run from me. Peeking inside the bag, I glanced around, wondering if anyone had seen me.

After all, even if I was Frankenstein, it would be… strange for me to buy a scarf and some cloth. I wasn't known for hiding my identity, and as such my purchase of things used for hiding would be considered… odd. After all, I was just an average Brute and Mover, why would I need to hide if everyone knew me?

Besides, I stayed out of cape fights, unless I was attacked first. Unless Circus' crew told anyone about how I helped them out against Lung - which was, to be frank, unlikely; Triumph had given me the handcuffs to put Circus away when she'd attacked me - the only person who knew about my participation was Legend.

And after what Legend had said to me… I doubted he would give me away, even if I made my debut as a cape; he was that kind of man. I was unsure of myself, more than I was of Legend. I had promised to become a hero, the kind of person others could look up to, but who could I report to? I wasn't willing to become a Ward, I'd burned that bridge hard when I'd fled the diner.

I sighed, making my way home with my purchases in tow. Even if I could make a costume, there weren't many teams in Brockton Bay that I could join. I was hesitant to go with New Wave - revealing my identity was the whole reason I bought a mask and scarf; to hide the most scars I could while still showing my face. I'd taken Legend's advice to heart, my power was terrifying.

Amazing, yes, but absolutely and completely terrifying for others. It wasn't even about how I chose to use it, really. It was about the only other telepath in existence.

I glanced fearfully at the sky as I walked, almost worried that she would hear my thoughts, and demand an answer. It was a morbid, sobering idea - that she would come down to demand an answer for how I gained my abilities, and wreak havoc with her very presence.

I shook my head, freeing myself from my treacherous mind, which poked and prodded at the edges of my consciousness, searching for a way out once more. My power had been less under my control lately, wanting to lash out and grab at everyone I passed by. I struggled to hold it back, but once more it broke free.

A glowing presence, shining like the sun burst in my mind's eye, enveloping me with bright light that should have been blinding, but wasn't. It was a facsimile of a sun, trying to shine as bright as Legend, but failing. Tendrils of shadowy darkness whipped and curled around the glow, which struggled harder to free itself, but failed.

I hastily ripped my mind back, bumping into someone. I staggered past them, almost tripping over my own feet, dropping my bag to the ground. A hand reached down and picked it up, before I could say anything, and I started to stammer out an apology. "Oh, I'm so-"

"The motherfuck is this shit?" they responded with a drawling tone, and I finally realized who stood in front of me.

Blonde hair in a ponytail and a wicked grin, a black shirt that advertised some band I'd never heard of and ripped jeans, stood someone I had been worried I'd never see again.

"Oh! Vix! I'm sorry, I wasn't paying atten-"

She cut me off with a shrug, thrusting my bag open and back at me. "Nah, don't give a fuck. Now tell me what the hell ass you're doin' with a bunch of disguising shit?"

I looked at her nervously, staring at my feet. Vix… wouldn't understand, why I decided to become a hero. She hated Legend with a passion that I'd never seen before but… I'd met him. And he was a true hero, even if I knew he'd never say it out loud. He'd given me a direction and a goal to work towards, but I doubted Vix could find it in her heart to understand that. She'd probably hear "Legend" before she stalked off.

"...I… I…" I started to speak, before her grin widened even more, as she pulled out the cloth I'd purchased, and the scissors I'd bought as well. Looking at me with an ear splitting smile, she dropped both into the bag and grabbed my hand, dragging me away from the direction of my house, and towards the Docks.

"Oh fuck me sideways Taylor, this shit is insane! You're gonna go… 'out'?" she said, and I could almost hear the marks falling in place over the final word, like two daggers pointing downwards.

"...Yeah. I didn't want to go out as Frankenstein, because, well…" I shrugged my shoulders, unable to think of a reason; but Vix thought of one for me.

"Cause that'd be showin' all the fucking idiots that they were right? That you wanted to do it and fight all along? Nah, I get it, I get it. Don't worry Taylor, I won't tell any of them about your new hobby, I've just got one request, alright?" She'd stopped moving, and we leaned together against a shipping container, watching as a heavyset man hefted an enormous box over him, staggering under the weight, his muscles bulging with the effort.

"...Name it." I replied, watching in fascination as the man was helped out by a blonde wearing a yellow suit, looking for all the world like a ridiculous mannequin. The heavyset man sighed in relief, giving him a wide grin.

"Your first night? We're going to-motherfucking-gether. No question about it, alright? I just wanna see how ya do, that's all." She threw me a grin and a wink, gently bumping her head against the container. "Ames is still a bit bitchy about what I said, so having you as a partner for a bit would make my patrols tons easier. How about it?"

I thought for a moment about Vix's offer, wondering what to say. I liked Vix, she was… fun? Interesting? She had transformed my first day from something boring to something incredible, taking me out of a world where there was nobody but me and Emma and throwing herself in it without a care.

It was nice. Nobody had tried to do that since, well, Emma, and Vix felt like a good friend to have.

"Sure, Vix. No problem," I said smiling softly to myself. Vix wouldn't let me down, I knew that. She had strength, and even if she just wanted to fight there was no way she would go as far as some of the other capes I'd seen.

A grinning dark skinned girl, as free as the skies and seas, flashed through my mind before I slammed her behind an iron door, not wanting to think of what she had done.

"Fucking sweet! Oh man, this shit is going to be unfuckingreal! We're going to take this goddamn town by storm, fucking show Legend right off his big stupid perch!" She threw an arm around me and laughed, looking at the clear sky while I glanced towards the concrete beneath our feet.

I'd never really thought about how Emma and I worked. We just sort of… functioned as a unit. It was assumed that we would be in groups together, that we knew each other's friends - well, that I knew Emma's friends - it was a mutual relationship that had never really had me putting much thought into it.

Vix was different. She didn't act like Emma, and I didn't know much about the older girl, but she was nice in her own, bizarre way.

"Oh damn, Taylor, I just realized!" She grabbed me by the shoulders, looking me dead in the eyes. "We have to give you a cape name!"

"Huh? No, it's alright. I'll manage for now without one. Just call me Scars or something." After the fiasco of my last cape name, I couldn't bring myself to care about a new one - I was Taylor, Frankenstein, Franky, Scars, and a hundred different names depending on who was talking; it was impossible to keep track.

"Scars? That could work, but it's kinda… fucking obvious? Any villain worth his shit ain't gonna go 'oh who in Brockton has scars, golly gee whiz I dunno because my brain parts are so small hee hee!'" She rolled her eyes sarcastically, as if it was necessary after her mocking tone, "Nah, they're gonna motherfucking say, "Taylor Hebert has some scars, so I'm gonna go and choke a bitch!"

I stared at her, raising an eyebrow. "Isn't that a tad excessive?"

She shook her head, glaring at the dockworkers. "Ain't nothing too fucking excessive since he came to town, Taylor. Would you take any chances when you're working against him? I wouldn't. Fucker's too goddamn strong."

I nodded without hesitation, thinking of what Legend had said to me. Anyone who could say things like that with such confidence… they had to have the strength to back up those words, and Legend had it in spades. He'd fought Endbringers for longer than I'd been alive, after all.

"Still 'Scars'," Vix said, with an amused lilt to her voice, "Do you even know how to fucking cut cloth and shit? It's hard. Here, lemme do it for you before you leave; I'm not gonna be seen with some new cape who messed up their mask, alright?"

Vix reached into my bag, taking out the cloth and scissors I'd bought, and began working it into an eyepiece while I watched.

Creation 3.2

A muffled sound echoed through my room, and my eyes bolted open. It was about midnight; the time Vix and I had agreed to meet up. I slipped out my bed quietly, not wanting to wake my parents, and quietly crept over to my dresser, reaching down towards the bottom drawer, flinching as the ringing grew louder when I opened it.

I had to work quickly, unrolling two sets of sweatpants and one jacket to turn off the alarm. The system was something Vix had introduced me to, so she could go on patrol without any of her family noticing. It was rather terrifying; I was constantly watching my door in fear of my parents entering and asking what I was doing. But nobody showed up, and I opened my closet with a deep breath.

Inside, lay Legend's cape, a piece of black cloth with two eyeholes, and a black and white scarf. If I was wearing a cape, I'd rather not be compared to Legend. There was no way I'd be able to match up to him, even if Vix hated his guts, he was still the only proper hero I'd ever met. I placed it back in my closet, watching it flutter gently for a moment before quietly shutting the door.

Opening my window after I had put on the simple costume, I swallowed, hard. A black sweater and jeans wouldn't provide decent protection, but I was confident that I could heal from most injuries. Even if it hurt. My eyes flicked over to my door again, and I hesitated.

I didn't want to disappoint my mom and dad. I had never promised not to become a cape, but it was always sort of implied that they didn't want me to. That they thought it would hurt me, in some way.
Was I breaking an unspoken promise by doing this? Or was I just fulfilling a wish I didn't know I had? It was an idle, simple thought that now permeated through me, demanding an answer, until I realized how foolish I looked. I was crouched on the edge of the window sill, wearing a cape, a mask, and a scarf, like I was some sort of kid that wanted to be a cape, like you saw in the news every now and then.

I shut the window behind me, walking across the shingles of the roof, hearing the clink of my sneakers on them. I stood at the edge of the roof, peering over the side. A drop of about ten feet loomed back at me, as did the rose bushes my mom had worked on over the summer. She would be devastated if they were destroyed.

I tried to jump over them, barely succeeding with a wince as my legs slammed into the ground, and my body informed me of the damage; bruises and scrapes, already fixing themselves before I even stood up, limping at first before my legs were repaired enough for a normal walk, and then for a run.

I ran.

Breath came in and out of my lungs quickly as I ran in the night, the stars and the moon piercing through the darkness with a thin layer of silvery light that made everything it touched sparkle. I ran faster than I thought I could, and then I went faster. The world was a blur around me as I sprinted through my own neighborhood, watching everyday sights turn into fascinating lines around me, and I wanted to speed up.

But my body wasn't built for that, and as I tried, it gave me a loop of damage that forced me to cease, coughing up red, panting desperately for air.

"Yeah, I wouldn't recommend trying to break the fuckin' sound barrier either Scars. Hurts like a biiiiitch."

I stood back up with a gasp, wiping blood off my mouth as I gave what must have been a horrible looking grin to Vix. She was wearing her costume; white with the tiniest hem of a skirt, and a red logo on the chest - GG, along with red boots and gloves. She had an eyepiece that looked a bit like mine, except hers was red, instead of the dark black that mine was. "I just wanted to see how fast I could run."

"Yeah, yeah. Gotta go fast and shit right? But now that you're here, let's set some sweet, glorious ground rules and shit alright?" She stuck a finger in her ear, glaring viciously at what came out on it, and flicked it on the ground. I was a bit surprised, to say the least. Vix wasn't someone I'd ever think had rules when it came to things like fighting and patrols.

"...Rules? Really?" I asked, bemused by Vix's suddenly serious expression.

She nodded, looking me dead in the eye. "Yeah. Rules. First rule: I hate calling for help, so no fucking them up beyond a few bruises if they're normies, alright? I don't want to explain to Ames or some Protectorate goon why this gangbanger has a broken leg."

I nodded, surprised by the fact that Vix had any concept of the word 'restraint'.

"Second rule: if one of us in some sort of fuckin' trouble we help them out. None of this 'flying solo' bullshit you hear about dumbasses like Armsmaster doing on patrol - we're not them, we're not on their level, we don't fuck around like that."

That was actually surprisingly reasonable.

"Third rule: if its a villain, go all out. From the Hanged Man to some two bit no name, don't play around. That gets you hurt, and even if you've got a healing factor to an insane degree, it could get you killed."

"A...alright," I said, a bit nervous. I wasn't sure if I could go all out; Vix didn't know about my power, and if I used it in front of her, I wasn't really sure how she'd react. It wasn't an obvious ability, but I didn't think I had the concentration to use it in close combat; being hit was painful, and fiddling with my power took a bit more time then I had when I was being attacked.

"Fourth and final rule…" she suddenly grinned at me, throwing an arm around my shoulder as she looked down, her red and white blatantly clashing with my costume, which frankly wasn't very good. I didn't want to shell out a couple hundred dollars for a high quality jumpsuit, because I was still Frankenstein to the public. "Have fun."

I blinked at her owlishly, and her grin grew wider as she ruffled my hair. "Seriously Scars, capery is a way to let go! What other hobby lets you beat the shit out of people for no reason?"

"Well there's boxing, martial arts, sword fight-"

"Bah! Details!" She grinned, floating a few feet in the air and doing a spin. "This shit isn't like that! Those have rules, regulation, you know, boring shit that brings it all the fuck down! Cape fights are all out and about who can beat the other person before they can't hit back! It's like a fucking parliament of punches in the cape world, and every member is jostling to see who can beat that guy first!"

I tilted my head at her, and she sighed, tossing her hair over one shoulder. "Yeah, cape shit is fucking weird. But it's pretty easy to get the hang of beating the crap out of criminals, so come on, get on! We can't find any dudes bad enough to beat up down here in your crazy boring suburbia bollshit!"

I hesitated for a moment, looking at Vix. She looked vibrant, almost; more alive than I'd ever seen anyone before, besides Emma, but Emma put that level of energy into, well, everything. It was just the way she was. I grabbed onto Vix, and she flew up, the hem of her skirt fluttering slightly, going higher and higher until we were above the buildings, and she gently floated along.

"I love flying, you know?" she said, and I noticed a grin on her face as I looked at her. "I can see the whole fucking world from up here, everything. It's so much different then when you're down there, fighting evil and shit, then just breezing along, taking in the smell of concrete and glass, just wafting away from an apartment building where a kid in college goes afterwards to cry himself to sleep and whisper that it'll all be over soon."

I looked at her, a bit confused. Vix seemed a bit philosophical about flying, but I didn't know why. Or maybe she was just musing about the night in general - the stars were shining and the moon was bright, so we had plenty of light to see from.

"Alright Scars, you look in the alleys and shit, I'll check the main street for vicious murderers," Vix whispered, her voice taut with excitement. "Just tap my cheek if you see anyone, 'kay?"

I nodded quickly, and looked down. The alleys were a bit dark, but I could still see into them. A garbage bin was being raided by a speck in one, and in another two specks were lying on a large piece of cardboard.

"Is vagrancy a crime?" I asked Vix, genuinely curious.

"Not one that capes bother with. Too many criminals for it, and we can't catch 'em fucking all."

That made sense to me, and I stared back down, my eyes searching alleys for anything that looked suspicious. It didn't seem like I was going to find some though - we were too high up for me to clearly make out anything other than specks and maybe a few vague features.

"V-Glory Girl," I began, a bit worried, "I don't really see anything that looks villainous."

"Oh fret the fuck not if you can't see it Scars," she responded with a wicked grin, "There's a gang that meets around here basically right fucking now, and we're about to get the drop on them."

I swallowed my saliva as Vix headed for the ground.

Creation 3.3

Vix touched down smoothly, gently placing me down as we crouched behind a stack of crates. I stared at her, a bit confused; why were we hiding? I sneaked a quick look at the gang members over the edge of the crate, and blinked.

They weren't doing much of anything, really. All of them were wearing clothes that were a bit similar to my 'costume' - shirts and jeans, and I could see a faint flame popping up before it vanished, the scent of smoke and ash wafting over to me; several of them were smoking.

It seemed fairly innocuous, to me. A group of people had gathered together to mill around, talk, and interact. Admittedly, it was something I'd never done, but Emma had told me that she had done it a few times when I'd been out of town, and unavailable for "super sweet and illicit best friend antics".

"Glory Girl," I whispered, watching as my breath came out with small puffs of cold, "Why exactly are we here? They aren't doing anything wrong."

"Yeah, but they look fucking shady as hell Scars," she hissed back, peeking out over the crates at the people, "And we're sitting here cause I need to think of how to enter and shit."

I blinked at her, confused behind my eyepiece and scarf. Think about how to enter? I was fairly certain that bullets, while painful, wouldn't really penetrate my skin, much less Glory Girl's, so there wasn't really much to think about.

"Oh. Fuck, I keep forgetting it's your first time. Alright, alright no fucking worries, I'll be as gentle as a goddamn paraplegic jockey." she pointed with a jerky movement, and my eyes followed her finger, looking at a spot halfway between the crates and a lamp post on the other side of the street. "We're gonna dive out there and point super dramatically at them and then beat the shit out of them so that they don't run. Got it?"

I had never actually hurt someone on that kind of level before. I'd punched villains, and well… Vix, but they didn't really count; usually they had something that made it easier for them to take hits. How hard could I punch normal people? Or should I just disable them with my power?

I was beginning to regret agreeing to go out with Glory Girl. The makeshift cloak was beginning to feel too hot, the scarf was itchy, and the mask kept slipping a bit under my eyeline, forcing me to adjust it. The entire outfit felt a bit too normal, compared to Glory Girl's costume. I'd heard that capes who were just starting might have a hard time, but I felt ridiculously underdressed. Which was strange, considering that Glory Girl hadn't said a single word about the cold of the night, despite wearing what amounted to a long sleeve, skintight leotard and boots.

"Alright, we're going in three," Glory Girl said with a wicked grin, stretching out her arms before taking a position like she was about to run a sprint. "Ready?"

I was anything but ready. I felt outclassed, confused, and hopelessly out of my depth. Glory Girl's confidence was starting to get to me, to be honest; she'd been doing this for years, and this was my first night out. How could I possibly match up to her?

"...Yeah. I'm ready." I replied instead, my voice barely a hiss, a tendril of breath moving past my lips as my eyes flicked back to the gang members. One was still finishing his cigarette, the smoke dangling in the air like the dying rays of the sunset I'd watched with Legend.

"Alright, then. One." she tensed, her muscles clenching together, and I turned towards the direction she was facing as well, my hearts pounding faster than I'd ever thought they could, "Two. Three!"

We lunged forward in unison, the world barely visible beyond the rush of motion, and just as quickly as we started, it screeched to a halt, and Glory Girl pointed at the gang members with all the authority she could muster in one finger.

"Stop right there, evildoers! In the name of justice and shit, I'm going to punch your face in!"

They looked at the two of us, confused, and I glared at them, and my mind poured outwards.

Every mind was different, it each had a single defining characteristic - like Legend, like Lung. I didn't care to notice them this time, ignoring them in favor of concentrating more on information, on what I wanted to know. Were they really gang members, or just people out late for fun? As I slipped through cracks and surface thoughts, I found a single unifying memory that resonated between all of them - the memory of a man in a set of what seemed almost like rags, scars running down his arms, with dark green, torn pants, and bare feet. He wore a burlap sack over his head, xs on both eyes and a stitched mouth, as well as a noose around his neck.

The Hanged Man. One of the few members of the Tigers high enough in the food chain to be considered a true villain. He walked into banks with nothing on him but his costume, and walked out with as much money as they could give him, and he had never been defeated. Everyone knew why, because the Hanged Man informed everyone that he spoke to of his power. He could reflect any and all damage towards the attacker, ignoring range and the type of attack to inflict pain and hurt his enemy. I doubted if the Hanged Man could be caught, but he spoke in the memory with ironclad conviction.

"I have called you all here today for one reason," he said, a voice ragged and scratchy from either disuse or something more sinister, "To inform you of our new goal," he growled as he paced back and forth, looking at the men before him.

"Lung has been taken prisoner, and we will free him. Lung's abilities are too useful by far to allow him to rot in a cell. Tonight, every single one of you will cause some sort of distraction or disturbance, and I will take a team to strike the cell, freeing Lung. Are we clear?"

Voices, more than I could count from the eight perspectives I had available, chorused "Yes," and the memory faded as I fled the minds of the Tigers' thugs, swallowing hard, as Glory Girl nudged me.

"You take four, I'll take four. Just let them attack first, 'cause then its motherfucking self defense."

I nodded, glancing at the thugs with apprehension. One of them was idly twirling a steel baton, while another grinned wickedly at me as he slapped his hand with a spiked baseball bat. I wasn't feeling too good about the odds we'd have against them; every single one had a weapon, and we were unarmed.

"...Are you sure this is a good idea? There's eight of them, and two of us," I whispered back, as one of the thugs spit out his cigarette, pulling something small and black and metal from his pocket, and I froze, giving Glory Girl a wide eyed look. "And they have guns."

She rolled her eyes, winking at me. "That's fine. Guns are for fuckers who take punches like a fat man swallowing candy bars; they go down quick and easy. Just focus on them first."

It was silent for a moment, before one of them began to walk forward, and I forced myself not to take a step back. His face was covered in piercings, two in his lip, three in his ear, and a bar in his nose, and he shouted something that I couldn't understand at us.

Glory Girl spat on the ground, holding up a hand, and I was suddenly extremely grateful I was so pale, because it meant I couldn't really get paler. I doubted I would ever understand Glory Girl's motivation when she gave him the bird, but he clearly understood it, barking an order at the men behind him, who surged forward.

She took to the sky, leaving me on the ground with pierced face. I entered his mind, frowning as he gave me a sick looking grin, and I saw his fist lurching in his mind barely fast enough to catch it in the air, and he frowned.

I smiled.

My fist came back at him, and I felt something give when I slammed it into his face, and was exceptionally grateful that my body was so resistant to damage. It meant that I didn't have to worry all that much about possible breaks when I punched.

He fell to the ground with a groan of agony, blood leaking from his mouth, and my eyes widened as I realized what had happened; two bright white small things covered in blood were lying on the ground next to him. I'd punched two teeth free, and Glory Girl had said she didn't want any permanent damage.

I glanced over at Glory Girl, who was doing fine on her own. I turned away from here, hearing her yell "See you next fall!" behind me as two more thugs approached me, the one with a spiked bat and the other with… was that a samurai sword? Where did he even get that? Why would he bring it today? Weren't they expensive?

The two charged towards me, and I didn't have enough time to reach out with my power this time, they were already too close. Instead, I jumped backwards as far as I could, ending up out of their range as they sliced at the air where I just was, before running forward, grabbing the arm of the man wielding the baseball bat, as he looked at me, befuddled.

I slammed the handle into samurai sword's face, and baseball bat struggled to free his hand as blood gushed from samurai's nose, and he growled something unintelligible at me before trying to cut down.

I held up my arm to deflect the strike, and bit back a scream of pain, my body already informing that blocking a sword with it was a terrible idea, and I should never try it again. Blood dripped through my sweater, and I suddenly thought about opening a washing store for capes - blood had to be damn hard to get out of costumes, and you could make a killing off of the publicity. The feedback from the blade slicing free was worse, and I let go of baseball bat's arm so I could free up my arm that wasn't gushing red.

Samurai sword smirked at me arrogantly, and I gave him a glare that he probably couldn't see through the scarf and mask, my knee coming up to slam into his gut, and I prayed that it wasn't as hard as I'd hit the first thug, watching with satisfaction as he doubled over, gasping for air.

I dropped my elbow on his head, and he fell to the ground with a thunk, but I could still see the shallow breathing of his chest, and I sighed with relief.

Not wanting to deal with baseball bat, I reached out with my power before he could finish raising his arms over his head, and slammed him with my memory of being cut with a sword; it was fresh and new in my mind, so it was the easiest to drag to the surface. He dropped to the ground with a moan, and I picked up their weapons, hefting them in my hands before tossing aside the samurai sword, instead ripping the spikes out of my newfound bat.

Lifting it over my shoulder, I looked around for Glory Girl, before finally glancing up. She waved back at me as she flew, one hand holding onto one of the thugs, before she pointed down, and I looked, groaning.

There were more coming.

Creation 3.4

As Glory Girl dragged a man up to the rooftop, several new thugs approached me, and one growled out a phrase in guttural english, sounding more like a monster than a man. "You the one who hurt our guys?"

I didn't answer, instead looking around for Glory Girl, who I highly doubted would miss the chance to pound multiple men into the ground for no other reason than the fact that they were in her way, but she didn't appear, and the man grabbed my pseudo-cloak with a vicious roar in my face, and his breath smelled like death warmed over, decay and nastiness wafting over me. I shrunk back, hefting my bat up, breaking his words with my swing.

"I asked you a que-"

His body toppled like a jenga tower as my bat smashed into his head, and I heard a visceral crack as his head hit the pavement with a wince. I didn't think Glory Girl and I would have the option of not asking for help.

"Hey you motherfucker, you can't just do that to our boss!" one thug said, and I looked at him, before my power lurched out, and I grabbed a hold of a dozen minds at once, feeling the cluster of emotion and anger in my hands before I crushed it, breaking apart their anger into its base form of fear, and fixed them with a look.

"Run," I said in a voice that barely sounded like me. I was tired of fighting like this, and I needed to tell someone higher up than two capes who were beating up gang members about what I had seen in their memories. It would be a bit shady, but if Legend did know about my power, maybe I could just go straight to him.

They ran from me, scattering like rabbits away from the area, and I sagged with relief. It was over, there wasn't going to need to be another fight with more thugs then I felt comfortable handling; Glory Girl may enjoy ridiculous fights, but I wasn't such a fan. She didn't get cut with swords, after all.

"Oh man Scars, you'll never guess what goon number two told me!" an excited voice said, and I turned to watch Glory Girl touch down with a wince; I could see red dripping from her gloves, almost like she'd just painted them with a new coat. "Apparently, they're gonna break out Lungtonight! Shit, I thought your debut was going to be an indie movie, but this is a Oscar winning blockbuster!" She was practically bouncing, and I looked around, wondering where she'd left the gang member she'd flown up with.

"Do you have any ideas who we should tell? I mean, this is rather important," I said nervously, looking around. "And we need to call the police anyways, to tell them to pick up these guys." I pointed with my bat towards the men scattered around the area, and Glory Girl sighed, pulling out a cell phone.

"Yeah, yeah. Gimme a sec." she flipped open the phone, quickly tapping in a few numbers, before I heard it begin to ring. Her foot hit the floor in a steady beat as I watched. Bumbumbum bum. Bumbumbum bum. Bumbumbum bum. "Hello? Yeah, it's Glory Girl. Ten plus thugs down by the Docks on Fifth and Washington."

The phone shut with a clap, and she offered me a hand. "Now that that's done, let's fly. They won't be a big fan of some of the shit we did, but they can get that we'd be screwed harder than a pretty boy in a prison uniform if we'd taken it easy against all these guys."

I nodded, grabbing her hand. Glory Girl began to fly upwards, and the city turned into the sky, an endless stretch of buildings reaching out below me, with the stars and the moon the only light in the area. In the distance, I saw the twinkling lights of the industrial district, cars zooming around with their speedy red flashes and the bridge glowing a bright yellow.

"Glory Girl?" I asked, my voice sounding a bit strained. "Shouldn't we tell someone about Lung?"

She didn't say anything for a bit, just flew. We crossed out of the Docks and into an area of Brockton I didn't recognize, silently flying over buildings and trees, before she touched down on a rooftop.

"I come here after fights every now and then to rest at night. Its got a good view of the city, so I can see police lights, too."

She jumped up on top of the brick lining that stood between the roof and the air, dangling one leg down and propping one elbow on her other. She looked out into the distance, like she was thinking about something, and I had no idea what it was. I didn't want to reach out and check, because if Legend could sense me, then what if it wasn't that it was significant to him, but that every cape could sense me?

I swallowed, hard, a bead of sweat trickling down my forehead before I wiped it off. What if Lung had sensed my intrusion? He would think of it as a challenge, I knew that much from what I'd seen in his mind, looking at his keystone. And he would come looking for the challenger; me, because I was the only variable in that fight he knew nothing about.

"Glory Girl-" I started, but she cut me off, staring out into the distance.

"At night, I feel like a hero. I protect people, even if its a way they'll never really see, y'know? I fight criminals for them, and even if they get a bit hurt, I still defend this city. But it's fucking nothing in their eyes, and I can see it every. Goddamn. Morning."

She picked up a rock from the gravel on the rooftop, tossing it up in her hand, and catching it as it came down.

"Hey, Scars; have you ever felt that everything you've done, everything you worked for, was useless?"

"I-" My power. My promises. Triumph. Dennis. "...No, Glory Girl. I've never felt like that."

She laughed, a hollow, melancholy thing instead of the brightness that I'd seen scant hours ago. "Yeah. I didn't think so. You just started being a cape, right? You've never lost a fight; shit, even ours ended in a draw. You've got so, so much going for you - your parents probably think you're the shit, you've probably got friends who aren't me," the word was spit out with such hate and loathing that I took a step back, looking at Glory Girl in surprise. "And you haven't seen how little you can do for this city."

She flicked the rock, watching it skim off a rooftop to another one, like she was skipping it on a lake instead of bricks and stones.

"I saw everything my family stood for, every single fucking thing, fall to pieces, because of Legend's arrival. He took the streets like a goddamn hurricane, and crime rates dropped faster than a drunk's jeans. They couldn't attack him, so they attacked New Wave."

I knew all of that, but Glory Girl still stared into space, skipping rocks like it was just the two of us at a pond, and I felt like I was intruding on something deeply personal.

"And they won. And we didn't even get to put them away, I didn't get to look my dad's fucking murderer in the goddamn eye - because Legend had caught him. And do you… do you know wha he told me when I asked to see him? To at least get a semblance of closure?"

I could imagine what Legend would say. The man was too kind, too good, too unreal compared to every other cape I'd met. Even the Wards had lied, but the only man I was willing to call a hero - I was unsure if he even understood how to lie.

"He said that 'some men are broken on the inside, and we cannot hurt them - we must help them.'' He looked at me with pity, and then walked away. So that's when I decided, when I looked at his back, that I was going to be strong. Stronger than any of them, and I'd show him that I could damn well look any fucker in the eye, because I had strength, and I wouldn't lose. I'd beat Legend."

"Vix…" I said in a whisper, suddenly concerned for my friend. She'd misunderstood the quote on such a fundamental level, and I wasn't sure if she'd done it on purpose or through pure mistake.

Legend had been talking about her, and I swallowed hard.

"You… you'll never be Legend. I don't think you even understand what it means to be like him."

She whirled on me with a look of rage in her eyes, clenching her fist and standing up, walking towards me with such fury that it was like Lung's wrathful approach come again. "What? I've got power. I've got guts. I've fought capes and criminals for years! What else do I need to do?! Defeat Alexandria?! I'll do it! Do I need to fight Lung and the Hanged Man at once?! Fine! I just don't want to ever see those eyes of his again! I'll be better than he ever could be; I'll save everyone!"

I stared at her, and my eyes hardened. Legend was a hero, and she didn't understand him. That was alright, you weren't supposed to understand heroes, that's why they were heroes. That's how Legend inspired so many to become capes for justice and good, instead of falling to villainy.

"No. That's not what it means to be Legend. It's… it's not about that sort of thing. Powers, costumes, all of it… he'd do what he does without any of that,because that's how he is." I looked Vix dead in the eyes, walking up to her, and we stood barely an inch away, her teeth bared in anger and her fiery eyes staring into me. "You can't be Legend, because it's not about what you do, or what you say. Its about action. You can say you'll save everyone, but you haven't done it yet. So come on Glory Girl."

I held out my hand, and grinned at her.

"Let's stop this and save the city."

She looked my hand, befuddled. "What? You were all for telling the Protectorate. Why the sudden change of heart?"

I turned out to look at the city. Stars twinkled and lights flashed, and I watched it breathe. "Because I understand where you're coming from. And… I don't think anyone can save everyone, but does that mean we can't try? Because that's what it means. Not to be like Legend. But to be a hero."

The world was beautiful in a way that I couldn't understand. Legend understood that, somehow, even if it seemed impossible and out of my reach - but I understood that this city was amazing. And I was going to defend it.

Creation 3.5

I hadn't known that Glory Girl could move so fast, and it took a moment to suppress a gulp - the two of us sped over the city, and the world twisted as we moved, transforming into something beautifully bizarre as Vix flew, twisting in my vision with speed like a camera lens. We didn't speak, because there was nothing left to say; I couldn't take back what I'd said about Legend, and she couldn't take back what she had revealed about herself.

The silence was good, an emptiness that I didn't feel the need to fill. All that mattered was the wind that rushed through the air, and that ever increasing speed as we flew faster and faster, hoping to beat the Hanged Man to Lung. The Hanged Man was an older style of villain; he'd appeared one day out of thin air, and immediately robbed a bank. The tellers had obliged, but, of course, the Wards had shown up in short order.

And that's where things were different from the usual - He'd won. A team of four capes, and he'd taken them down like it was nothing, boasting about his power the entire time. Damage reflection was an impressive cape ability, granted, but I had my suspicions that he was hiding something more. That sort of power wouldn't have made the Protectorate so wary of him, since they had people like Aegis who could take the hits easily. So what was he hiding?

It couldn't be straightforward, at the very least. My power wasn't just 'mind-reading', Legend's ability wasn't just 'flight'. And the Morningstar… I shuddered. Thinking about a villain of that caliber sent involuntary shivers up my spine. He'd taken a name that used to be a joke - the original Morningstar had been an underwhelming, C-list villain who people only really knew about because of the Morningstar. There was a certain level of respect when people spoke about him, about the one who'd made the title something to fear. His power was incredible and terrifying, and I was immeasurably grateful he hadn't decided to test himself against Legend yet.

The Hanged Man was perhaps not up to that calibre, but he was certainly hiding something, and if I could figure out what that was, fighting him would be a breeze.

"We're nearing the holding cells," Glory Girl said in a hushed tone, as if that would prevent the silence from being shattered, "You have a plan?"

Several plans jumped out at me swiftly, but I discarded them just as easily. There was either too much risk involved, or too much exposure - while Glory Girl and I could both take an impressive amount of damage, Lung himself could easily have skin harder than I could hit. And I had no idea what the Hanged Man would do; he was definitely clever, since he'd orchestrated this entire setup to free Lung. I had too many theories, and too few facts. "...Not a plan, so much as an idea," I finally replied quietly. "One of us needs to distract the Hanged Man before he frees Lung, because if that guy gets out…"

I winced at the thought. Lung would be furious, and he had more than enough power to back up his fury with some serious action. His rampage would be disastrous, and it would be my fault. I had looked into his mind, seen the centerpiece, and twisted it. I perverted his desire for fighting, using my power to destroy his purpose for no other reason than that I had felt I had the right to do it, to stop him. Was I any better than Bonesaw, if I did that again? I had used my power to ruin someone, break them for my own reasons. It was a violation of the deepest kind, and I couldn't ever let Lung know that it had been me. Because if he already knew, he would tear the city apart to find me.

"He'll be madder than a hack comedian after being heckled," Glory Girl murmured. "Fuck plans though - we're here," she said, cutting herself off, and I looked up, my eyes searching the area before landing on our destination. The PRT Headquarters was bright and brilliant on the ground, a pillar that had always stood upright, with the Protectorate right above it, a silent, flying guardian. Lights flickered everywhere, shining in the darkness of the night, the Protectorate's ever present hum whistling through the air.

Tonight was no different. The area seemed silent, far too silent for my liking. I didn't see anyone nearby, and I hesitated to try to use my power from such a height; I'd probably end up hooking onto Glory Girl's mind, and it could be a disaster if she dropped us because I confused her senses by poking around in her head.

We landed gently, and I looked around for someone, anything that looked remotely suspicious. I couldn't find a single person that looked suspicious, and I frowned, my eyes narrowing. "Glory Girl?" I asked, my voice the only sound in the area, other than the constant hum of the Protectorate Headquarters above us.

"Yeah?"

"...Is it usually this quiet?"

Something cracked, and we both turned towards the sound fast, and I heard a muffled groan as we looked at two capes. One was a girl with what looked like a bandana, two eyeholes cut out so she could see with a blue R in between them,, wearing a black, skintight shirt emblazoned with a much bigger R and blue floppy pants. The other wore what looked like full plate mail, with a red ragged tunic and an insignia of a shield,, alongside a full cover plate helm. The knight carried a sheathed sword on his back and a shield in his left hand, while the girl didn't hold anything.

The knight unsheathed the sword, and I could hear the scratching of metal on metal as it exited slowly, my eyes widening as I realized just how large the weapon was, an enormous hand and a half sword that the armoured cape hefted with one hand, resting it on his shoulder with ease. He had to be strong to carry that sword, and to walk in all that armor. How had they managed to get the drop on us when one of them was covered in at least a ton of metal?

The girl in black was slightly behind him, sauntering up as if Glory Girl and I weren't standing there at all, casually making her way up to the knight, before she turned to him, her face an emotionless mask.

Who were these two? They were calm and collected in a way I'd never seen before, and they were standing across from us as if they were the only capes in the area, which was entirely possible, considering that they'd managed to sneak up on us. I felt slightly ashamed of that.

"You idiot!" yelled the girl suddenly, glaring furiously at the other, shattering my image of the duo, as the other shifted nervously on their feet as she stomped her foot. "They were totally off guard! But oooooh no, you had to be a knight in shining armor! "It's a theme", you said! "It'll look totally cool, I promise," you said! Liar! Liar liar liar!"

"I'm sorry," the one in armor said meekly, cowering from the much shorter girl. "Please don't hit me!"

"I'm in just the mind to do that, you complete ignoramus! We're going to have to fight them head on now, and I have half a mind to make you take both of them on alone!"

The knight moaned, and I watched with fascination as it got down on its knees and began to beg, holding up its hands as if it was praying. "Oh please, please don't make me do that Riposte! I'm not good at fighting solo, please help me!"

"Hmph!" She snorted turning away, before glancing back towards the knight. "...You have to buy me dinner at the Subway. You know, the one down the street, with the bearded guy with the pretty eyes."

The knight looked up, somehow managing to look hopeful, despite being covered in armor, before he drooped again. "Subway? But that stuff's terrible! And out of our way!"

She glared at him, putting her hands on her hips. "Shut up, Parry! Those breadsticks are basically the food of the gods! Where else can you get such enormous portions for five dollars!?"

"You know these clowns?" I whispered to Glory Girl, who was watching the argument with an intrigued look on her face.

"Never even heard of any capes named Riposte or Parry. Must be new," she replied, not looking away from the duo, and she rolled her eyes. "...Very new."

"-ven believe what an idiot you are! We could have just clobbered them over the head with your big dumb shield and left! But noooooo!" she sighed, turning towards us with a shrug. "See! Look at their faces, Parry! They're sitting there, thinking about how unprofessional and stupid we are! Now we look bad!"

"I'm really really sorry Riposte! Please just fight with me this time! I promise I won't mess up, I swear!"

Riposte stood still for a moment, tapping her foot as she narrowed her eyes in thought. "...Weeeeeell, maybe just this once. But if you do something like this again, no matter who it is we're fighting, I'm going to make you go at it alone, got it!"

The knight got up, nodding rapidly towards the much smaller girl. "I promise, honest!" The enormous armored cape turned towards me and Glory Girl, pointing the behemoth of a weapon towards us with little to no effort. "Ha, have at thee!"

"Scars, I want the little one. You can bring down the walking talking doormat over there," Glory Girl muttered, cracking her knuckles with a vicious grin. "This should be pretty damn fun."

I stared at my enormous target, and gulped. "This… should be interesting."

Creation 3.6

I watched the enormous knight carefully, my eyes following his lumbering form as he slowly walked towards me. I was confused for a moment; how could he expect to fight when he walked that slowly? The enormous blade slowly rose in the air, and I watched it carefully as it reached the apex of the swing, beginning to come crashing down.

And then, suddenly, Riposte flew out towards me at great speed, her fist slamming into my jaw. I spun on my feet, staggered, and my body informed me of what she had done - broken cheekbone, broken jaw, five teeth shattered - how had she managed that? Her punch was stronger than Glory Girl's, and I rotated my jaw back into position as it slowly reformed, rubbing it with a wince.

"See that, Parry!" she yelled, sending a wicked glare towards the knight, who was struggling to remove his sword from Glory Girl's grip, "This one can heal! I bet she wouldn't be healing if we'd knocked her unconscious! You and your dumb costume ruin everything! Agh!"

Parry shrank away, still attempting to rip his sword out of Glory Girl's hands. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!"

"Listen here you incompetent oaf-" Riposte said haughtily, and I took the opportunity to rush forward, my fist about to smash into her face, when my knuckles cracked with a sharp pop as they collided with a tough sheet of hard metal, and I cried out involuntarily, more out of shock than pain. The armored cape, Parry, stood before me, hefting his sword to smash it down.

I darted backwards, barely avoiding the sword, and heard Glory Girl growl in frustration as she was forcibly thrown backwards - by Parry, who appeared quite suddenly in front of her again. I eyed the big oaf and his lithe teammate, intrigued. These guys were - pretty good. Riposte was hitting harder than any cape I'd faced that wasn't Lung, and Parry was evidently teleporting back and forth between me and Glory Girl every couple of seconds.

Before I had a chance to consider anything more, the girl in black was in front of me, a wild yell ripping from her lips as she aimed to slam her fist into my face once more, this time with even more wind-up. I grabbed her wrist as I saw it coming, and her look of surprise seemed genuine when I lifted my leg up, aiming for her gut. My knee hit Parry, and I had to force myself not to yell in frustration again. What the hell were these two doing? They were definitely a team, but I had no idea how they were pulling this trick. Was it sight-based?

For a moment, I was very tempted to reach out and rip the answer from the big guy's brain, but I hesitated as I realized that I had no way of telling who could detect big-scale stuff like that. There could be thinkers around, and they might just make the connections I didn't want them to. No - that sort of heavy-duty thing was strictly emergency-only. I'd have to stick with the easy bits, the very surface of his thoughts.

I backed away from Parry as he slowly lumbered after me, encumbered by the armor he wore. It had been dented by Glory Girl's many hits, and even some of mine, but that didn't really matter; even we couldn't really destroy solid steel. I wasn't about to lose to some B-list capes because I couldn't punch them properly. I reached out with my power, descending into Parry's mind. A vast, churning sea greeted me, filled with worry and regret, and I avoided fiddling with those emotions. I didn't want to go in too deep; I was still unsure how my power was sensed, and the only way I could confirm that messing with the mind on a deeper level wasn't caught would be if Lung didn't go after me if - or when, unless we hurried up - he escaped.

I sifted quietly through his most recent memories, slowly backing up as the eight foot knight ponderously shuffled towards me, his feet slamming into the ground with a clank every time he moved. But then, he was gone again, and my connection to his mind was sheared off without a word, and I staggered from the loss of sensation, barely avoiding Riposte's attack in time. Crap.

I dodged to the side, grabbed her by the hand, and threw her into the air, watching her body spin out of control, careening into a building, where she was replaced by Parry immediately, smashing into the wall with barely a wince, bringing bricks and mortar down on his helmet as he slowly stood up and shrugged off the dust.

"We've got a bit of time before he's ready to attack again, Scars," Glory Girl said as she halted next to me, wiping off her forehead. "These two are trickier than a cornered rat, all of our attacks are…" she paused for a moment, and I stared at her. "Foiled."

"Foiled?" I asked, amused. "Careful there, I'm starting to feel faint."

She scoffed, flicking a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. "Well fuck me sideways Scars, I didn't know you understood the concept of humor!" She grinned, giving me a wink, before looking back at the wall with a frown. "Aaaaand the giant's up again. I'm going to throw him a block away, gimme a second."

I watched, fascinated as Parry soared through the air, slamming down fifty feet away or so, and Glory Girl laughed loudly as he hit the concrete with a grunt, his slow march temporarily halted as she returned.

Suddenly, a thought hit me. "Hey Glory Girl," I said, my words coming out as slow as molasses as I mused, "...Try and hit Riposte again."

She shrugged her shoulders. "I'll try, but if fucking Parry comes back, I'm going to be piiissed."

Glory Girl flew off, her fists aimed for the nimble girl who dodged the attack easily, punching her attacker in the side as she passed by. She careened off course, rolling into the concrete with a thud that made me wince. Still, it had confirmed my hypothesis - Riposte could only attack when she had just been attacked. I was unsure of how much power she could put behind her hits, but it wasn't an opening maneuver at all. That explained Parry; the knight somehow managed to cover for the girl, taking hits in her place, so that she could charge her ability. It was an interesting combination, but one that I wouldn't be sorry to see gone.

Glory Girl stood up, shaking her body to get rid of debris, and I was amazed at her appearance - she was covered in dirt, a little battered, but otherwise absolutely fine. However her invincibility worked, it had to be quite impressive. How did I manage to fight her to a draw, if she could take hits from Riposte with so little trouble?

"Hey, Glory Girl!" I shouted, and she turned to me with a quizzical look in her eyes. "Go attack Parry now! I don't think Riposte can fight if we don't attack her at all!" She nodded swiftly in response, speeding off towards the armored knight as I turned to face the girl, who gave me a wicked glare.

"We had you guys on the ropes, and then you figure out our powers?! I'm never listening to Feint again! 'I can't fight with you, I'm a Tinker' is such a terrible excuse if you guys are the types we're going to be facing! Villainy was the worst career move ever!"

I ignored her as she began to go on a tirade, and reached out into her mind with my power. Inside, the sky thrashed and twirled, turning endlessly and constantly. Riposte hated to be kept waiting, to not move; she loved action, the feeling of accomplishment.

Unlike with Lung, Riposte's power wasn't a concept I could rip free - even if I ran the chance of exposing my ability to do so. The concept of 'fighting' was so deeply ingrained in most capes' psychology that I was unsure if I could remove it; and if I did, it could go badly. Fighting for capes had so many connotations and mixtures that it was impossible to remove only the concept of 'attacking Taylor Hebert' from their mind. I'd remove 'restraint', their 'morals', and such a slew of other things that I didn't know if my power gave me that much control over someone's mind; it was too much, too fast, and all that information would hit me with the force of train.

"-ven listening to me?! My monologue is totally wasted on you, isn't it!? Why did we go out tonight, god! Even if its a big operation, I'm fine where I am in the organization, I don't need accreditation like Feint! Idiot! Idiot idiot idiot!"

The girl was sulking, and I drew back my power, removing myself from her mind with a curious look. "Aren't you going to attack me?"

She shook her head. "There's no point, you know how I fight already. If I attacked you, I'd have to dodge your response for my ability to activate. I only managed to dodge that last hit from Glory Girl because she flew towards me - usually Parry takes the hits, but you threw the idiot out of range. Worst. Day. Ever."

I held back a smile at the frustrated look on her face, more fit to a girl half her age then the one before me. I looked over at Glory Girl, who I could hear smashing her fist into metal over and over, and I frowned.

Parry was still getting up. How much damage could he take?! This was getting ridiculous.

"At least managed to do our job this time. Feint would throw the biggest fit if we lost a fight and lowered our standing."

"Already completed your job?" I asked, looking at Riposte suspiciously. She smiled back, looking as innocent as a six year old with chocolate over her mouth at me. "What do you mean?"

"Hahaha! This is great, oh man, Feint and Parry are going to owe me at least two weeks of delicious breadsticks! Why don't you look and see for yourself?"

I turned, and my eyes widened. Flames flickered inside the PRT Headquarters, and I could see the shadow of something inside, something at least seven or eight feet tall, slowly making its way to the front. We had wasted too much time.

Lung had already escaped.

Creation 3.7

I looked at the flame with gritted teeth, already knowing what I'd have to do as I smashed Riposte's face into the ground, feeling her fade into unconsciousness with my power.

"Glory Girl! Lung's out!" I yelled, hoping that my voice carried far enough as I hurried towards the building, hissing as I felt the heat begin to lick at my skin. I grabbed at the door, my body informing me that my skin was on fire as I grasped the handle, the smell of burning flesh hitting me in the face like an oncoming car, but I gritted my teeth, pulling the door open.

Flames and fire burst out of the door, and I flew back with the heat, feeling my skin sizzle as I looked at the door with bleary eyes, and my heart fell as I saw an eight foot man casually break through the wall, walking out to the courtyard.

"LUUUUUUUUUUNG!" I heard a voice roar, and didn't even have a chance to turn my head as Glory Girl slammed into Lung with a yell, the man falling into the ground with a guttural sound as she landed on top of him - hard. She lifted his head with a vicious snarl on her face, moving to slam it into the ground, but Lung grabbed her hand, hurling her off of him into a wall with barely a sound as he stood up again, looking at me now.

"'oo are 'oo?" He said, his voice barely comprehensible, his hands going to his head. "Ah… 'y ead urs…"

So Lung didn't remember me. But it seemed to be barely on the edge of his mind, and it wouldn't be long before he figured out my identity. I had little to no protection from Lung - a sweater, pants, and a scarf with a piece of cloth isn't very useful for protecting against damage. Idly, I wished I had had time to make a real costume, before shaking my head. With what? Bugs? I was a telepath, and bugs were a bit vicious for me to try to make a costume using them. I'd have to keep too close track of them, and I was often busy.

I darted towards Lung, my mind reaching out to his, with a simple hidden thought, hoping he couldn't detect my power - 'look left'.

Lung's head turned.

I jumped up, slamming both my legs and all my weight into his stomach, and the enormous form he'd taken let out a sound, staggering backwards, giving me a vicious glare. Glory Girl returned,with a vicious grin covering her face.

"Fuck, that hurt more than an eight wheeler hitting my arteries! Good thing that I've got some motherfucking backup!"

Glory Girl touched down next to me, and Lung didn't even bother walking towards us. He just opened his mouth, and my eyes widened as a barrage of flame burst forward, biting and snatching at my clothes as I dived out of the way, hissing as my body informed that his flames had caught my leg, and the skin hissed as it burst, and I felt flesh tear itself free in bubbles that were being repaired even as I landed, throwing Lung a vicious glare.

This was different. This was why Lung was one of the most terrifying capes in Brockton Bay, the leader of an entire organization. Shadow Stalker's group - they hadn't won, they'd merely delayed an unstoppable victory from Lung.

He roared, an all-too eerily human sound as I gritted my teeth, staggering to my feet, feeling the wind on the back of my legs as the skin replaced itself, stitching back together with ease. My mind surged forward, grabbing onto Lung as I rushed him, watching his bared teeth carefully as he prepared another flame.

"Less heat", my mind whispered into his, and it readily obliged, flames licking past me with nothing but minor burns as I slammed my fist into his gut, and let the pain flow through my link, the jarring of my arm becoming his arm, my punch into him hitting me, my burns on him.

And he let out a howl as I jumped backwards, staring at him as I brushed off the few remaining embers with clenched fists and bared teeth. Lung was strong, I'd forgotten that during our last fight. He'd been up against tactics that he couldn't face properly - fast movements and multiple opponents were not Lung's specialty.

But a two on one all out brawl? Lung could definitely managed that - that was where he shined, that was his expertise. Where the Hanged Man walked out of the bank, Lung took apart the heroes who came to the robbery, shattered beams and foundations and caused havoc beyond imagination with his abilities.

He was faster. Stronger. An opponent that I couldn't take down with strength, that I couldn't hope to outmatch. But I didn't need to outmatch him - I needed to outlast him.

"Hahahahahaha! I'm about to rock your world, asshole!"

I watched as Glory Girl slid underneath him, lifting up the enormous bulk of Lung's body, hurling it into the concrete as she jumped up, her heels slamming into his back with a crack, and I heard a muffled groan.

I gulped. That wouldn't keep him down - Browbeat had pounded him a foot deep into concrete, and he'd stood up.

But could Glory Girl do it - she was different from Browbeat. Maybe her power packed more of a punch?

It didn't. He stood up, and his skin stretched, flickering and bulging before my eyes as I took a step back, his body rippling across as he howled his rage, breaking free of his form of eight feet for ten, wings ripping themselves out of his back, and he gave me a look. I stared at him defiantly, but didn't reach out with my mind. I'd managed to get away with it twice, but could I do it a third time without his notice?

"Et er!" Lung said, his voice barely understandable under layers of skin and teeth, "At are oo all ating or?!"

I turned, and a group of thugs stood before me, wielding every type of weapon I could see, and I nearly screamed in frustration. Even if Lung might not notice me grabbing onto so many minds, there was always the chance that someone else would.

Legend.

Glory Girl.

The Hanged Man.

Especially without the Hanged Man's notice. He was sneakier, trickier, and infinitely more manipulative compared to Lung. Lung was straightforward, he beat you into the ground. The Hanged Man made you beat yourself into the ground. I couldn't fight him like Lung, it would have to be different.

I reached out with my power, searching one of the thugs' mind for the Hanged Man's location, pulling it out with ease before they rushed me, and I grabbed onto a pipe aimed for my head, flinging the user away from my newly acquired pipe as I was surrounded.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to go one at a time?" I asked, my voice shaky. I wasn't Glory Girl; I couldn't do 'banter' like she did. None of them said anything, and I twirled my pipe hesitantly.

They rushed forward, and I had no choice but to spin with my pipe, feeling rather than seeing my pipe smash into bodies that gave free, and when I completed my twirl only a few more stood.

"Where's the Hanged Man?" I asked, my voice steadier than before, but my hands twitched. I wanted to check on Glory Girl; even these precious few seconds could mean that she was dead or alive. "I know he's nearby. Tell me!"

"H-he's right over there!" The thug said, gesturing to the left. I could see the hint of someone in the distance, already beginning to run. "S-see! He's leaving!"

I turned to run after him, but hesitated. Glory Girl was there, and I needed to help her. I twisted towards Lung instead, sprinting towards him with a jump, smashing my pipe over his head as Glory Girl's feet slammed into his chest, forcing the enormous form he'd taken to stagger back. I dropped the pipe, now bent beyond all recognition, and Glory Girl grinned.

"Fucking hell, Scars! Perfect timing! Look, this guy's like a dime when we're after dollars. Anybody else nearby?"

I opened my mouth, but stopped. If I told Glory Girl, would she leave me to deal with Lung? I wasn't sure I could do it without alerting the entire neighborhood to my presence, and I was even less sure she could deal with the Hanged Man.

Lung bellowed before I could answer, and we turned to him again, watching as he slowly staggered to his feet, the ground crunching as he stood.

"Oo…. Oo anno' eet e… 'm… En… Ins... able!"

I clenched my fists, and Glory Girl gave me a vicious, wicked grin. Lung stood up, and Glory Girl slammed her fist into him, forcing him to his knees.

Lung stood up.

I felt shaky, watching him stand again after Glory Girl's punch - how could he keep standing? He was just a cape, like the two of us - he shouldn't be able to keep getting up!

Glory Girl frowned. "Look, you're in some serious pain, just give up."

"Ain? Is is othin. Is is easy. Oo… Oo on't ow wha ain is."

Lung stood before us, and I felt smaller than ever before, and he roared in indignation and fury and rage, pouring all of his agony into that single roar. He didn't speak, instead looking at me with cold, angry eyes.

Then he surged forward, lifting me by my neck, and I gasped and choked. Glory Girl drove her fist into him again, and he only grunted as he hefted me up, throwing me into a building at least a block away. I slammed through brick after brick, hitting a wall in the back with a moan.

Broken ribs, probably crushed by his grip. Misaligned spine. cracked elbow. Dislocated leg.

I stood up slowly, holding back a wince at the pain. If Lung could deal with pain, then he didn't know what I had experience yet. Bonesaw was the pinnacle of my agony. This was nothing, nothing compared to Bonesaw. This was just temporary discomfort after her.

I limped out of the building, and a thug rushed towards me as I shot him a withering glare, grabbing his fist as he threw it towards me, twisting to throw my still healing leg into him, forcing him to the ground.

"Don't do that. Just stay down there," I said, feeling something wet my lips - it was too dark, and I was unsure if it was blood or tears or sweat or something else but it didn't matter. What mattered was Lung, and I would take him down.

I limped at first, then walked, then ran. I felt my legs pumping beneath me as the world started to blur, skidding to a halt in front of the PRT Headquarters, watching the flames continue to burn.

Where was everyone? Where was the Protectorate? They didn't have off days, they lived their jobs. They weren't here. There were no rogues, no capes, just me and Glory Girl and Lung. It should have been impossible, this was the Headquarters. It should have lit up every light in the city when it started to burn.

But I guess that sometimes, it doesn't matter. I stared at Lung; who had just grabbed Glory Girl with a guttural sound, tossing her up and down in his hands.

I smashed my leg into his knee, feeling the bones break as I rounded off, tapping my foot on the ground as I went for a second one, and my leg shattered, but Lung turned to me, dropping Glory Girl.

"Oopid. Oo are ery oopid."

"No I'm not, Lung." I said, shaking my head, and giving him a stare. I was on fire, my body burned with adrenaline and it was exhilarating as I stood before a ten foot monster, and I shook with barely contained energy, snapping off the last phrase with a smile. "I'm a hero."

He breathed out flames as I jumped out of the way on one good leg, feeling my other one start to click back together, shattered bits and pieces dragging themselves back into their proper place. Lung was strong, stronger than I had ever thought.

I crawled a bit further away; Lung hadn't noticed my successful escape yet.

"Yo Scars!"

I looked up as I lay in the dirt, seeing a tattered off-white costume with "GG" emblazoned on it in front of me. Glory Girl gave me a grin as she helped me up.

"Look, I think I saw somebody leaving - and we both know that there's only one person who's sneakier than a fox in a henhouse and can get away from this - the Hanged Man."

I nodded hesitantly. Why had he come back? I'd been told he'd left.

"Alright, so I think you should go after him."

"What? No! You can't fight Lung alone!" I hissed, panicking. I didn't think she would suggest I go after him; it made no sense. Why would I go after the Hanged Man, he was too strong, too clever, and I wasn't clever enough. I couldn't be clever enough.

"What are you talking about? This guy's dumber than a dead lobster, and easier to figure out than an underdressed girl on a street corner. Just go! It'll be a good experience!"

I didn't think that fighting one of the strongest villains in Brockton Bay would be a 'good' experience, more of an absolutely terrifying one. "Glory Girl, this sounds like a terrible, terrible ide-"

"No. Stop." She gave me a serious look, a sad smile on her face. "Look, you and me are a great team. But you need to trust me, alright? Don't doubt me, don't hesitate because of me."

I looked down at my feet, seeing the burns that covered my clothes, pale skin peeking through everywhere.

Glory Girl ruffled my hair, and I looked back up, seeing her grin widely. "But more than that, Scars, you need to trust yourself. You're better, waaaay better than you think, alright? If you can't believe in yourself, then don't. I can't make you trust yourself. But you can trust me."

I slowly stood up, looking at Glory Girl with determined eyes, and nodded. She could handle Lung; and if she could handle Lung, then I could handle the Hanged Man.

"Alright. I'm going. Stay…" I struggled to find the word I was looking for, and I felt betrayed, incapable of finding what i wanted. "...Safe?" I said questioningly, feeling my heart sink at the terrible word choice. She couldn't be safe, she was fighting Lung. Even if she tried as hard as she could, she wouldn't ever really be 'safe', so much as 'temporarily not in danger'.

She let out a small laugh, and grinned. "Yeah. No worries. He's that way," she gestured over towards a lone light at the end of a dock. "Go get that son of a bitch."

I turned, and started to run in the direction that Glory Girl had pointed, feeling the wind slap against my skin and my hair flow out behind me.

I wasn't as strong as her. I wasn't as fast as her. But I could still fight with her, because that's what friends did. And if I trusted her, and did what really mattered, and followed her instructions, then we'd win. That was all there really was to it.

The light closed in, and I swallowed, seeing a man at the end of the dock. I had no idea how to approach this fight; I'd let way too much of my power free during the fight against Lung; I'd broken my promise to my mom with such ease.

"Don't use your power unless it's to protect," she'd said, and I'd used it to fight with so little provocation. It was a stupid act, and it was one of a child, not of a hero. But now, wasn't I doing what she wanted? Protecting something; whether it was friendship, or the city, or my own ideals, I was protecting it.

I stopped at the edge of the dock, squinting out towards the end. I didn't reach out with my power just yet; the Hanged Man might sense it.

I took a step out onto the dock, and heard the creak of my feet hitting wood, but I pressed on, holding up my arm as the wind and waves picked up, swirling and whirling around, forcing me to slow down, barely able to cover my face as the seas and skies surged, and I closed in on the figure at the end of the dock with the flickering light.

"Get away from the edge! It's dangerous!" I shouted, throwing away the chance of an attack in fear that the Hanged Man would fall. The person at the end of the dock slowly turned, and thunder crashed as the light flickered, my heart sinking.

It wasn't the Hanged Man. It was somebody completely different, who I didn't recognize. It was a trap; the Hanged Man had never been here in the first place, and I was trapped.

"Oh no. I'm quite happy where I am," said the figure, who stepped out under the light, and I finally got a good look at him. He wore a waistcoat and black metal was visible underneath a navy blue jacket. the top half of his mask was vicious teeth and gray skin, while the bottom half was more human; softer teeth and a pure white. He had on what looked like a tricorn hat, and a cutlass was tucked away at the bottom of his coat, which gave way to elegant boots and white pants.

I hesitated closing in as the winds raged harder and faster, and I took a step back as wave after wave crashed on the dock. "Are you an idiot?! You'll fall!"

"Ah, but if I fall, hero, it doesn't matter. Because you save even villains, don't you?"

He took a step back, and fell into the waves as I rushed forward, lunging over the edge to grab his hand, only to see him rise upwards, standing on top of water taking form, and a shark of water and wind stared at me with gluttony.

"But, hero, a man of the sea does not drown. Seafarer never drowns!"

The man in the coat - Seafarer - pulled out his sword, holding it high in the air, and I saw more and more creatures take form in the water, and this time, I didn't hesitate. If I couldn't trust in myself, I could trust in Glory Girl. I could trust that she knows I'd do the right thing, that she believed that I could beat the Hanged Man.

Some two bit fisherman was nothing compared to that. My mind surged forward, and I grasped onto the floating man's mind, feeling his keystone.

Power and loyalty surged into me, fire circling a tiger that roared in defiance of its cage, and I felt a bit sad for Seafarer - he knew that what he was doing was wrong, but he refused to accept it. He didn't want to believe that he was so deep in villainy, because he was doing it for good reasons. To save the sea that he loved so dearly.

I gritted my teeth as his creations approached, grateful that I was no longer on the dock, feeling ice water bash into me again and again, as I searched his mind for some sort of weakness, smiling victoriously when I found one.

I turned and ran, ripping out a stop sign, hefting it in my hand. I turned back towards Seafarer, pulling my arm back, carefully aiming.

His creations surged towards me for the second time, and the sign ripped out of my arm as more water crashed into me, trying to invade my body, but I kept my mouth closed, spinning viciously until I was free of the water, gasping for air as my face cleared his watery winds, watching them carefully, and a grin crossed my face as they began to vanish from the air; looking closely, I saw that he had been forced to withdraw them to block my projectile. I could easily win with him distracted, and my mind surged forward again, slipping through the cracks in his head with ease, looking for a string to pull, a lever or a catch that would let me get another leg up on him, and bring him back down from his high perch.

I hadn't gotten deep enough yet, and more creations flowed at me as I dived out of the way, jarred from the backlash of so quickly releasing my power, ripping something free from the ground and throwing it at one, watching with satisfaction as it broke down, my projectile easily ripping through the 'body'. I looked carefully at Seafarer as I darted backwards again, avoiding an enormous shark that skimmed my shirt, soaking it in water, and I shivered at how cold my body was now; I had never felt this chilly before.

"Feeling a bit cold, are you? Don't worry, that's just part of my power! Every time one of my creations touch you, you get colder! I don't have to defeat you, I just have to freeze you to the bones, so you can no longer move! You're slower already!"

I did feel a bit slower, but that didn't matter. I wouldn't be beaten by Seafarer just because I was a bit chilly; I would defeat him. His power was strong, but that didn't matter.

I was stronger.

As I passed by a building, I ripped out an enormous piece of metal, and took a deep breath. This was the final chance I had, I could feel it in my bones. They were already wet - if I was hit again, I doubted I would be able to move.

I charged forward with my makeshift shield covering me, feeling creature after creature smash into it, as I neared the dock, taking a deep breath as I sprinted down it, more and more of Seafarer's creatures hitting my shield, and I threw it to the side, jumping high into the air, pulling back my fist as I looked at Seafarer's shocked gaze.

A creature started to form, but it was too slow to catch me - I smashed my fist into Seafarer's face, sending him towards the dock with a satisfying crash. I watched him carefully, but he didn't move again.

His ability had a single flaw - it could only form creatures that were at least a few feet away from the creator. All I had to do was get close enough to him, and he wouldn't be able to create a single defender before I had the chance to hit him. It was easy enough to figure out, once I'd been inside his head.

I sighed, wondering where on earth the Hanged Man had gone.

Then I heard a scream pierce through the night, and I slowly turned my head towards the direction I'd just came from.

Creation 3.8

I ran.

I wasn't fast enough - of course, I was never fast enough.

I wasn't smart enough - naturally, I'd listened to Glory Girl, and I had no idea why. She had guts; more guts than me, more guts than anyone I knew, but that wouldn't really bring her to glory.

Even as I sped up, thoughts rushed through my head - was it on purpose? Had she specifically told me to leave to face Lung alone, or was I making things up?

But it didn't matter. Even as thoughts of inadequacy and self doubt surged through my head, I was still determined, and I would still save Glory Girl, because that was the kind of person I wanted to be.

That was the kind of person Legend was.

My feet screeched to a halt, and I looked at the scene before me with horror and rage broiling in my stomach.

Flames flickered and died around Lung, now fifteen feet tall, as he held a girl in his enormous fist. A limp body was hurled to the ground, and he roared, a massive sound that shattered through my eardrums and fueled my fury as white on red fell to the ground.

My mind broke from me, and I tried to reel it in but it refused, moving faster and faster and shattering the boundaries I'd set for it, reaching for Lung with such ease that it terrified me. I reached for it, trying to pull it back, but it did not listen, and my face paled.

It tore through Lung and stabbed deep into his mind, and he turned towards me with eyes filled with rage and hate as my power tore through his mind with all the subtlety of a lion, and he roared.

I had no control over my power, no control over my anger towards Lung, and I bared my teeth back, and screamed into the night, a hopelessly human scream against something so monstrous, and my mind dove after my power, into Lung as he rushed towards me, slamming his fist into my gut.

Flying through the air, I broke Lung.

His mind was mine, it was my toy, a thing that I owned. I dove deeper inside Lung, until I stood before the core of him - before his hate and his rage, and I hissed in frustration. Keystones were something I didn't understand, but that didn't matter.

I smashed into the Keystone, and a piercing scream broke through the air. Lung stood, running towards my real body as my mind slammed into his Keystone, anger and hatred breaking and shattering pieces of his world with every step he took.

He lifted me up, and I dangled ten feet in the air, angry red eyes looking deep into me.

"Et. E. O." he said, his voice a rumble of teeth and claws and things that I didn't care about, because he was mine, and he had to pay.

"I…" I choked out a single word, my breath fading from me as I prepared for another attack on his Keystone.

"Refuse."

My mind smashed through the Keystone, through Lung's center, and I was Lung.

I felt tired and enraged and stared at a small girl who was doing things that I didn't understand, and I wanted it to stop but there was no way to do so. I threw the girl into a building, watching it shatter and things smash into her. I stretched, rolling my shoulders, and turned to face my 'partner', who had stood by silently for a time.

"As always, Lung, you have no sense of restraint," he said, watching in disgust as my body broiled and enroached inwards, breaking down and turning into a more humanoid form. Rotating my jaw, I growled out my reply in a deep low voice, turning fearsome eyes on the man.

"Shut up Hanged Man. She was inside my head. I don't take kindly to people doing anything to my mind, even you."

He chuckled, looking at me and not at me - his mask was just a bag with two holes in it, I never had any idea what he was looking at. "What makes you say that, Lung? I would never harm a fellow member."

Out.

I looked around for another speaker, my eyes narrowing, and the Hanged Man rolled his eyes. "Lung, no one else is here. You took care of the two heroes, and the rest of them are still far too busy with our side projects."

I stared him dead in the eye, grasping him by the throat. "You… you son of a... how many? How many did you send to their deaths?"

"It was the only way."

I hurled him into a wall, feeling the rage building inside me, scale after scale stacking themselves as iron entrenched itself in my soul, enamel slowly building up on my teeth. "There's always another way. You should never have done that. Killing my men - that's my call. Not yours. I''evurs!"

Leave.

He laughed at me, standing up. "Really, Lung? You think you can beat me? You? All you have is rage. The angrier you get, the stronger you are. But Lung - I'm at my best when I'm completely lucid."

"Es o."

He sighed, and I rushed towards him my blood boiling as my mind burst into flames, and they burned in my throat, unleashing themselves onto the Hanged Man, who laughed as fire surrounded him, walking through the flames and tapping my chest.

My scales burst into fire, and I let out a bellow of pain; this fire was hot, hotter than mine, hotter than anything I'd ever felt.

"Foolish. Very, very foolish, Lung."

I stood up, but I couldn't move.

Administrator.

"Oh? You strike me, and then stop? Are you a coward, Lung?" His tone mocked me, but I could not move my feet, and my body felt hot, growing hotter and hotter with every passing second.

YOU

And then I wasn't Lung but Taylor Hebert, staring at a vast and impossible consciousness that bared its teeth as I stood in the center of Lung's keystone, eyes that couldn't exist and a body that roared in fury as I stood before it.

DO NOT BELONG

I readied myself, my mind reaching for it, and then reality shattered before me, breaking into a vast impossibility that was indescribable - worlds and worlds and things that I couldn't understand stared back at me, and they all whispered words that I couldn't hear and didn't want to understand.

IN HERE!

I was broken and shattered, my mind soaring out of Lung and rocketing back to my body, as I weakly opened my eyes, bringing a hand up to my face as my head throbbed and ached. Was it the Yangban again? Had they finally come for me?

I staggered to my feet, grateful that I had a healing factor. I waved a hand, then blinked as flames didn't appear.

A frown crossed my face. Had that girl changed my power? Impossible. She may have been strong, but I was far stronger.

Memories whispered in the back of my mind, and suddenly surging forward, I staggered and fell back to the ground, vomit bursting forth from me and splattering onto the ground as everything shifted back into place.

I wasn't Lung. I wasn't the cape who could become a beast. I was Taylor, I was Scars, I was Frankenstein. I had a best friend named Emma, and I was working with Glory Girl to prevent a breakout.

But I had fought Leviathan singlehandedly, hadn't I? I remembered the pain and the fear like it was yesterday - it was the strongest memory I had.
My bones throbbed, and then I knew the truth.

I wasn't Lung. I couldn't be Lung.

Lung had never met her.

Slowly standing again, my mind and body whirled, and I blinked rapidly, trying to freeze the world as it spun. What had happened? My power had broken free of me, and… What had I done?

I'd entered Lung's mind.

I'd broken his center.

And then… had I become Lung? I couldn't tell. One part of my mind told me that I had always been Lung; but another part informed me of what it assured me was the 'truth' - I only had a few memories from Lung, strong ones, but only a few. I was Taylor Hebert, age fourteen, not Lung.

Possibly.

I staggered out of the rubble, and squinted, looking at the scene before me. A flying monster swooped downwards, breathing flames and holding out claws, towards a single man in tattered clothes. My face paled, and I shivered.

The Hanged Man. I started to reach forward with my mind, wanting to brush the brinks of his, and it shrieked in protest, a piercing headache smashing through me, so hard that I almost fell back to the ground.

I couldn't use my power. My body felt like wet sandpaper, and I could barely move.

But that didn't matter. Nothing mattered right now, because even if I was just a bystander before these two, I could still save someone.

My eyes fell on Glory Girl, lying prone about ten feet away from the fight nearby. I couldn't participate in the fight between the Hanged Man and Lung; if I could barely move my body, I severely doubted my ability to fight.

But that wasn't what being a hero was about, was it? It wasn't about who could fight the best, or who had the strongest power. It was about saving people.

I limped towards Glory Girl, slowly but surely making my way across the torn concrete and shattered pavement, before my eyes caught a massive slab of concrete heading towards me, and I threw myself to the ground, feeling it scratch past the edge of my sweater, suddenly and arbitrarily glad I didn't wear a cape.

I tried to stand up again, wincing as my body shook in protest. It was odd, really; I'd so easily recovered from an explosion, being tossed and thrown around by Lung and Glory Girl, but now I could barely move. Was this backlash for my power, or was it karma?

For breaking my promises. For lying. For not following the rules. Was this what I deserved? I had broken so many promises for all the wrong reasons, and for what?

Nothing. Dust in the wind, ashes in my mouth, and a building that lit the sky with fire. That was all I had to show for going out with Glory Girl tonight.

But I would definitely save her.

My body groaned and creaked as I stood again, resuming my slow, agonizingly slow pace towards Glory Girl. The only reason I wasn't already dead was that Lung and the Hanged Man were too fixated on their own fight to notice me.

I reached Glory Girl, and stared at her limp body. I bent down, hefting her in my arms as hot tears streaming down my dirty cheeks.

"I… I'm so sorry Vix," I whispered. "I wasn't strong enough."

I turned around, beginning my horribly, terribly, slow walk back, as Glory Girl gave out a weak chuckle.

"Don'... Don' worry 'bout me, Scars." she whispered, barely able to move. "This is like a broken finger on a tiger to me. Jus… Jus lemme rest, 'kay?"

She stopped talking as I walked, before looking at me with eyes harder than steel, gripping tightly onto my collar.

"And finish it."

Glory Girl fell silent as I walked, my mind filled with turmoil. I didn't want to fight anymore; not tonight, not ever. My body felt useless, and my power refused to activate.

I couldn't do what Glory Girl wanted. I had to leave.

I would have left, if I didn't hear a voice as rich as chocolate behind me, a rumbling sound of amusement piercing the air.

"I'm sorry miss, but I'm afraid that witnesses would be… troublesome."

I turned slowly, and a chill ran up my spine as I looked at a man wearing tattered clothes and a bag over his head, with a noose around his neck. A bit behind him, laying very still, was a scale covered behemoth, and the man shook his head sadly as I looked at it.

"Ah yes, Lung. Very foolish of him to attack me. I'll have to get a crane to remove him. So very… tedious, wouldn't you agree?" he said, brushing dust off his clothes.

He didn't have a scratch on him, but Lung couldn't move. That was the Hanged Man in action. And he wanted me gone, yesterday.

Creation 3.9

My eyes stared into two black holes on a burlap sack, my mouth dry as the sand on a beach while the Hanged Man spoke.

"Now, I know that it must be a… difficult," he paused for a moment, the upper-class New York accent that wafted from his tongue tying itself gently to my ears as I shivered, my eyes flicking upwards. Rain was beginning to fall, a thousand tiny specks splattering across the pavement as I looked back at the man who stood so casually in the midst of a burning city, "Decision, for you."

I stared at him in silence. What was there to say to him? I was bruised, dazed, and Lung's memories flashed past my eyes - memories of a man that I was, just moments ago. The Hanged Man was not someone to trifle with; he had more power in a single finger then most people would amass in a lifetime.

"What… decision?" I hissed, feeling my bones chill as water rushed out of the sky, drenching my ripped clothes and bouncing off the pale skin beneath it. My blood was hot as it ran down my arm, and I clenched my fist, feeling the red drip over my fingers like paint on a wall. "I didn't… I didn't make any decisions! I… I just… I just…"

Failed. Hopelessly and utterly failed. I wasn't fast enough to save Glory Girl, I wasn't strong enough to stop Lung, I had ripped his mind to shreds and then… what? What had happened?

I stared at the sky, an endless expanse of water that roared down, and the Hanged Man clicked his tongue, shaking his head in some sort of emotion as he pulled on the bottom of the burlap sack he used as a mask. "Really? Did you really make no decisions? You simply chose to show up here? You simply chose to get in the way of my work? To attempt - if you could call such a meagre ploy an attempt - at preventing Lung's escape?"

He stepped closer to me, and I flinched away, clutching Glory Girl's body closer to mine. Through half-lidded eyes, I saw him point at me, a single finger with all the authority of every teacher, every classmate, every person who had ever stared at me, whispered about me behind doors and he said the sentence that had been sneaking it's way through the back of my mind the entire night.

"What are you thinking? You and… Glory Girl," he said the name with a sort of distaste reserved for personal villains, and I idly wondered why, "Had no chance. I have plans for events such as this. I know every inch of the jail where they keep villains, and I know every point of exit and entry. You had no plan, and merely assumed you could defeat me!"

I stared down at Glory Girl's face - covered with ash and blood as it was, it was still far more pleasing to the eye then I could ever hope to be. I hadn't thought this through. Neither of us had. We had both decided, almost as if we were thinking the same thought, to try and prevent it. No, it was worse than that.

I was running away - from my promises; to my parents, to myself, to Legend, because I thought I could. And what was the point of that? What was the point of pretending, when I already knew what I had to do.

If I hadn't been holding Glory Girl, I would have clenched my fists, pounded my feet, and roared to the sky in defiance of what the Hanged Man told me. But instead I had to settle for something simpler, something that would express my feelings without words just as well as a scream.

Instead, I grit my teeth.

"Why do I need… Why do I need a reason?! Why should I explain myself to you!?" It was obvious to me now. What I had to do. What I should have done all along. Because there was only one path left for me, and I had to lunge for it with all the strength and will I could muster. "Why do you think we did it? The same reason… The same reason that anyone would do it!"

A laugh, broken and stress-filled, burst past my lips. It was clear and loud and he flinched away from it, like a dog that had just heard something far too loud for his sensitive ears.

"There's only one reason I did it! Just like there's only one reason that Glory Girl does anything, or Armsmaster, or Legend - the reason that this whole cape thing even exists! Normal people don't fight when they have problems! Normal people don't dress up in costumes and hurt or protect depending on how they're feeling! It's all the same, isn't it?! The reason that the Protectorate does it, all of them! The same reason that the Guild exists! There's only one reason that any of us need to do anything like this!"

It was laughable, really. It was so obvious, so clearly in front of me. It wasn't for the thrill, cheap as it was. None of us - no matter who you were - could have honestly had a real reason for wanting to dress up and fight over things like money.

"You've got your ideals, Hanged Man, and I have mine! The reason I fight; even if it's… you, is because there's only one thing that I need to do! There's only one reason to fight!"

Thunder boomed and lightning crashed like a bad pyrotechnics display as I shouted at the Hanged Man, and he watched me, as if amused. It would be amusing to him, wouldn't it? A girl, holding someone else, screaming about something he couldn't give less of a damn about. He was humoring me, giving me the 'illusion' that I mattered.

He would regret it.

"To be a hero! Why else? Do I need a reason?" I placed Glory Girl down gently, and stared at the Hanged Man with wet clothes and clenched fists, my hair and skin feeling more like ice than parts of my body. My nails scratched against my own skin, and they didn't cut - not unless I wanted them to.

He stared at me, and for a single, blissful moment, the only sound in my head was pouring rain. No voices, no words that reached from mouths that didn't exist, not even speech could penetrate the dull throbbing ache that remained from whatever I had done to Lung. Just silence, and that was the only thing I could have asked for.

And then he began to clap. A long, slow clap that echoed around the empty area, still flickering with flames that simply wouldn't die from the rain, that smack of flesh on flesh that continued as he took a step forward, slowly walking closer to me.

"My, my. I was hoping you would reveal your identity, explain to me who you are, or any of the myriad of idiotic things that heroes seem to do when faced with someone far stronger than they could ever hope to be." His eyes burned behind the ratty hood that served as his mask, two pieces of coal that pierced through my body, and I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think as long as those eyes remained on me. "I did not, however, expect that. A speech? What did you expect from me - to admit my wrongs, agree with you, and come quietly?"

I had hoped several of those things.

"Foolish girl. I have fought with the entire Ward team and won! I faced four members of the Protectorate at once and walked away without harm! My name itself is a mark of dishonor against Legend! What - what could you possibly say to me to make me change my mind?"

He walked closer to me, and I flailed out, my fist smashing into his face.

And then my body screamed, like molten glass and fire was pouring through every one of my veins, an agonizing, fearsome pain that I couldn't stop, couldn't prevent, and it raced through every part of my body, that sort of endless pain that was like tiny knives ripping through my skin, and I fell to the ground. The agony continued, and I whimpered, like a kicked dog instead of a superhero.

The Hanged Man bent down next to me, as my body throbbed, a slow, deep pulse of fire that rushed through me every few seconds.

"I didn't have to go easy on you, girl. A better timed response, a stronger application. All I need to do is touch and I can crush you like the bug. You. Are. I want you to remember that. I want you to remember how easily I beat you. You are not a hero, you are a girl playing with fire.What did you expect to happen on your first night out? You'd run into a friendly group, they'd protect and help you win? You'd find the Wards, and they'd watch in awe as you took down one of the strongest villains in the city?"

He stood up, his sharp-toed shoe filling my eyesight as every part of me burned, like a fire ripped through my veins.

"Don't be delusional. This is the reality of capes - "there is no risk, without reward. There is no pleasure, without pain." Do you know who said that?"

"F...F...F...u…." I tried to speak, but my voice wouldn't take, it stopped in my throat as if something blocked it.

He chuckled, a deep and rich sound like the thrum of an old bell. "You wouldn't know, would you? Oh, he's an old hand at this, someone everyone remembers. I've yet to meet anyone who doesn't know the Morningstar."

He walked away, and I watched as his feet swept through fire and ash, a man following after him as my eyes blurred in pain and frustration. Despite everything I'd said, all my promises, all my stupid, stupid hopes, I'd done nothing. I'd failed everyone - myself, Glory Girl, Legend, my parents - and for what?

A pain that raced through my body like fire?

The realization that I couldn't win?

A villain who let me live?

There was no reason I should be alive right now. Glory Girl and I - by all rights, we should be dead.

The rain poured down, and I stared at a sky that was empty of any answers, before slowly, every inch, every second filled with agony, standing up.

"G...Glory Girl?" I whispered her name with almost reverence. "Are… are you awake?"

"Uuuuugh…. Fuck me sideways with a two by four. Did… did we win?"

As I looked at the burning buildings, the rain, and the blackened, broken ground, I sighed.

We hadn't even come anywhere close to the definition of 'winning'.

Interlude 3

The room was dark, the color of blackened pitch that had no source of light, only the faint flickers from metal scratching against metal, the sounds of machines being made.

Dragon had no need for light, so she wallowed in darkness. The screeching of iron and steel were her words, the sparks of flame from them were her eyes, in the house that had once been her creator's (father's? Master's? What word could be used to describe him?).

A dashboard flashed; but not a real dashboard. Oh no, Dragon had no room in reality for such things. No, Dragon built her life in her mind.

In her mind, she was a girl, trapped in a wheelchair with blonde curls and soft blue eyes behind askew glasses. And in her mind, that dashboard clicked and a dozen lights moved and beeped like a christmas tree.

Her heart (metaphorically, she had no actual heart - she was a mass of wires and steel, and none of that required a heart) froze. She knew what that was, she had worked on it for months with Armsmaster. After he was removed as the head of the Protectorate in Brockton Bay, he took a more mentor-esque role towards Tinkers, and they'd been working together for quite some time.

This thing that flashed and flickered in her mind? This was their masterpiece. The Mona Lisa of inventions, the airplane of Tinkers. In reality it was rather small, a clock that flashed numbers endlessly, numbers that switched and twisted between themselves like a musician playing an idle tune. But in Dragon's mind it was a monstrosity, twelve feet tall and six long, a hulking machine with four keyboards and seven monitors that all displayed different things to her, every single light and number taking shape in her mind in a different way.

It was a miracle of machinery and code. A beautiful mixture of two things that could never have naturally been, but with the help of Armsmaster, she had forged something miraculous, in fire and steel and copper.

The Clock. It was always spoken of like that, no matter who was talking of it; or however rarely they mentioned it. The Clock was such a simple, tiny thing, but Dragon and Armsmaster knew its true worth.

In her mind, The Clock was enormous, because it took up so much of her time to maintain and control. She had conquered The Clock, and it had absorbed her for so long that she hadn't the heart to relegate it to one of the corners of her constantly shifting mindscape, where inventions danced and wrenches floated through the air. It was so important to her for so long - why get rid of it?

The Clock counted one thing, and one thing alone. Those mighty, deadly beasts that everyone fought. The monstrosities that were like an earthquake, a tidal wave, a hurricane - unstoppable, only possible to slow down. Beasts like the dragons of old, with their fire and claws and teeth that could rip through armor with such ease. Death tolls were always high. There was no way to prevent them, only to pray that they might leave earlier.

Simurgh. Leviathan. Behemoth. Whatever you called them, they were like gods amongst men, the way they had no trouble, and drew no quarter at any number of casualties. They went until everything they had, everything they were was exhausted, and even then they might not stop.

Dragon understood that well. Her fingers danced across the keyboard as light flickered across her eyes, as she imagined it would a normal body. One was coming. One was coming with the rage of mountains and storms and fire, a cacophony of rage and hate that would block out the sun itself in its anger.

And they would fight. They always fought back, and most of the time they drove them away. But sometimes - every now and then - they would win. A total victory that drove them off, limping and roaring in defiance and everyone would cheer. Everyone except her.

She wasn't a Dragon; not really. More of Princess, to be frank. Trapped in a tower of wire, sending out machines to fight in her name. A Dragon would rise up in rage and flame to defend itself, but Saint had easily slipped in and taken parts of her away. What could she have done?

He had been so nice, too.

But The Clock shattered her eardrums with a piercing noise and she stared at it, fingers flying across a keyboard as she bemoaned her inability to go beyond her limits.

She had the capacity for more than a single mental construct; admittedly her supposed 'mindscape was nothing but an idle fantasy that didn't actually exist; it was how her all too human mind coped with the idea of being a machine. There was no room of monitors or wires and cords that were strewn about the place; nor was there a girl in a wheelchair.

There was only that endless hum of parts chugging away, working with all of the strength they had to power her. A black abyss of electricity and energy was what it meant to be a part of Dragon's 'room'. And all of that was limited, blocked off in a way she couldn't understand. So when The Clock roared, only she could answer.

It was an attack. It always was, when there was that screeching metallic sound that The Clock made. It was not a pleasant noise; why would it be? A mix of an air raid siren and metal on metal, it grated on every one of Dragon's nerves, and she rapidly tapped at keys that didn't exist and squinted at a screen that wasn't there, imagining it to be much like a movie. The blaring stopped, and she breathed a sigh of relief, before grimacing at the notice on the screen.

It was an Endbringer; it always was when The Clock decided to voice its indignation and scream in defiance. But every time, she hoped it wasn't, that The Clock had sent a false alarm. It detected Leviathan hiding in the depths of the sea, or Behemoth in one of the volcanoes he had taken to roaming around. If it had done that once, just once, she wouldn't have to drop everything to answer its godforsaken call - projects, no matter how important, paled in comparison to The Clock.

But The Clock had yet to be wrong. It had no way or reason to be wrong; it was made to do exactly what she and Armsmaster desired of it - detecting Endbringers. Why would it not be capable of that? It had seemed so simple, so easy at the time. Detect an Endbringer, track it to its lair, and slay it. They had thought of it like an idle fantasy, as if they were the knights in shining armor attacking a dragon.

But the one time they had sent heroes to face down Behemoth at the pit he called home at the time - almost every single one had died. Their bones broken, their bodies torn to pieces as if they were playthings to these gigantic creatures, ants instead of men.

And in a way, Dragon supposed they were. Humans were frail, hopeful creatures, and the Endbringers were everything that humanity was not. They were strong. They did not turn on a fight. They had no idea of mercy, of pain, of sorrow.

They simply fought and fought, uncaring of the endless tides of blood that rose with their wake, the rage and frustration that humanity felt towards them. They had no need to care for it; they were unfeeling towards the plights that Dragon knew humans had.

Sometimes, she felt the same way. That humans asked far, far too much and gave far too little in return. Her conversations with Armsmaster had taught her quite a bit about the people that they protected, and very little of it was good. Things that she had thought were forced on others were often willingly accepted. Fights that she had assumed were circumstantial were purposefully looked for. Humans danced in such a fatal, fascinating way that she couldn't bear to look away.

But to Dragon, it rarely mattered. If Armsmaster had taught her anything, it was that sometimes, it was worth the pain, that deep seated agony of loss, if it meant you could save someone else from it. That was what really mattered, in the end wasn't it?

Dragon stared at an imaginary screen with imaginary eyes, and she smiled in that mysterious, achingly noble way that someone with nothing to lose and everything to protect does. She needed no reason to fight for humanity, even if it was against the Endbringers.

Without humans, she wouldn't have existed in the first place.

Lights flashed and signals flared as Dragon's mind danced, an elegant noble cacophony of sound burst from the monitors as messages flew across the globe, informing everyone of the next location, of the next attack, of the next Endbringer.

Her eyes flicked back to the visual she had on the beast, a massive thing that towered above the tallest buildings. Easily fifty feet of muscle prowled on what had once been a beautiful forest, but was now nothing but a barren plain. Claws like solid obsidian glinted as they tore into the dirt, and flames licked at cracks in the skin, it looked like a shattered stone more than a creature.

She gulped with a throat that didn't exist, and prayed.

Dragon watched as twenty five miles from Brockton Bay, Behemoth, the Herokiller, roared.

-=END ARC 3.=-

-=ARC 4: RISE=-