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Rating:

Not Rated

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of ViolenceUnderage Sex

Categories:

F/FGen

Fandom:

Parahumans Series - Wildbow

Relationships:

Amy Dallon & Theo AndersAmy Dallon & Heith AndersAmy Dallon | Panacea | Red Queen/Victoria Dallon | Glory Girl | Antares

Characters:

Additional Tags:

E88!Amy DallonChanger!Amy DallonTrans Female CharacterBody DysmorphiaBigotry & PrejudiceInternalized BigotryNazisSexual AssaultChild Abusechild sexual assaultcannot stress enough that this fic has nazis doing nazi shitthe least incestuous guts&glory ficyou're welcome/i'm sorry depending on your preferencesthere will be explicit sex scenes in this ficbut most of them will not be purposefully eroticif extremely repressed teens pawing at each other does something for youfar be it from me to deny you that

Language:

English

Stats:

Published:2025-02-04Updated:2026-02-04Words:161,471Chapters:28/49Comments:739Kudos:336Bookmarks:73Hits:19,486

Broken Crown

thevalleyarchive

Chapter 3: Ozymandias 1.3

Chapter Text

Then:

Amelia frowned at her new dollhouse.

It was a beautiful thing, almost as tall as she was, with four stories of intricately detailed rooms, occupied by an extended family of beautiful dolls, all dressed in fine soft clothes with fine soft hair of pure gold, and flawless creamy skin.

It had been a week or so since she'd come to live with Heith and her family, and it had been fine, except that she had to spend most of the day in her room, and it was boring . She got to come out and have breakfast with the whole family - Heith and Theo and Jessica and Mr. Anders. But after breakfast, Mr. Anders went to work and Jessica went to junior high and Heith had to run errands and Amelia had to go stay in her room while Theo's tutors came over, which wasn't fair at all! Amelia had had tutors when she lived with Daddy - she'd been excited to have tutors again.

But Heith had gently explained how important it was that Theo got their full attention, and Mr. Anders had sternly explained that if she was going to live in his house, she had to follow his rules. And one of those rules was to never ever bother Theo's tutors or the cleaners who came by every few days. She was to stay in her room and be quiet while they were here.

Amelia wasn't sure that she liked Mr. Anders, but she liked Heith. The idea of having to go live with a new stranger yet again was enough to make her heart race and her knees shake, and Heith said that Mr. Anders was a good man, that Heith followed his rules and that Amelia should too. So she did.

And most days it wasn't so bad! She usually got to come out for lunch, and that was usually just with Heith and Theo, and sometimes Heith would have time to play a game with them. But oftentimes she had to run more errands or go to meetings, and then Amelia would be bored again. Theo had toys, but he was protective of them, and Amelia didn't want to push; she didn't want him to tell Mr. Anders that he didn't like her.

She'd tentatively complained to Heith about being bored a few days ago, and Heith had hugged her and promised to get her her own toys.

And now she had this beautiful dollhouse and these beautiful dolls, but no one to play with them with.

She'd been so excited when Heith had shown it to her. She'd given Heith a big hug, and then Heith had helped her set it up in the living room, and when Amelia handed Heith a doll she'd smiled, but what she'd said was, "I'm sorry darling, but I have to run some very important errands."

"But I wanted to play with you," Amelia had said plaintively. She hadn't meant to, she didn't want to be a burden, but she just couldn't help it.

"Wait here for just a moment," Heith had said before getting up, and after several minutes of muffled screaming, she'd returned with a very sullen Jessica, her eyes red and puffy.

"Jessica," Heith had explained with a slightly strained smile, "got sent home early today for being disrespectful to her teacher, and she'd much rather play with you while I'm gone than have to explain herself to Max when he gets home - wouldn't you, Jessica?"

"I guess," Jessica had mumbled. She'd sat down hard on the floor next to Amelia and limply picked up a doll.

"Excellent!" A few minutes later, Heith had been gone.

After several seconds of blankly staring at the doll in her hand, Jessica had let it slide from her fingers, risen ponderously to her feet, and gone back to her room without a word, slamming the door behind her.

Which was fine. It wasn't like Amelia had really wanted to play with Jessica. Jessica was always grumpy and mean, and she never wanted to leave her room, which didn't make any sense! Amelia wanted badly to be allowed out of her room more - why would Jessica waste her freedom like that?

Maybe Jessica liked her room more because it had bunk beds. Amelia didn't have bunk beds.

With a sigh, she put her new dolls back in the dollhouse. She just didn't want to play by herself.

Her gaze drifted over to the door to Theo's room. Maybe he wouldn't mind playing with her if she let him use her toys? Hopping to her feet, she went over and knocked - Daddy had taught her it was always polite to knock.

Theo opened the door, rubbing his eyes. His short hair was cowlicked, and he was wearing footie pajamas. "Were you napping?" Amelia asked incredulously.

"Mommy said it was naptime!" Theo crossed his arms.

"Well, I don't have a naptime," Amelia replied haughtily. "What are you, three?"

"I'm four!" he protested angrily.

"Oh my god, you're a baby!"

"Am not!"

Amelia started to retort, but held back. She was six; she could be the mature one. And besides, she wanted Theo to like her. "Want to come play with me?" she asked instead.

He looked at her suspiciously. "You can't touch my Bionicles."

Amelia rolled her eyes. "I meant play with my toys. They're new, but you can touch them if you're nice."

He stared at her intently for another moment, then said, "Okay."

Amelia grabbed his hand and led him across the room to her dollhouse. She sat down and opened it up. Theo hesitated, but then he sat down too. He was reluctant to pick up the dolls at first, like he was afraid they were going to bite him or something, but he got the hang of it, and before long he was eagerly acting out the dolls' days with her. The daddy was a powerful supervillain, having his lieutenants over for tea parties while the mommy was at her business job. What the daddy didn't realize was that the mommy was actually a Protectorate superhero! And they got in big dramatic cape fights during the day, because neither of them knew who the other one was!

And the daughter had a secret baby that she was raising in the laundry room with her best friend, but she was also a PRT officer and a doctor who was playing the heroes and villains against each other for her own ends! And the son had a special mask he could put on that gave him light powers that were even better than Purity's and -

"Wait a minute, that's not how it works!" Amelia said indignantly, cutting Theo off. "Capes don't wear masks because they give them powers!"

"But it's how it works in Bionicles!" Theo protested.

"We're not playing with Bionicles," Amelia said primly.

Theo looked down. "Maybe you can play with them with me next time," he mumbled, then looked up, a sudden fire in his eyes. "But you have to promise to be careful! Nessa always took them apart and left the pieces lying around and I always got in trouble for it!"

Amelia was confused. "Who's Nessa?"

"Jessica's sister," Theo said. "She used to live with us before you did, but Mommy said she got hurt and had to go live in Valhalla. I bet she'll come visit sometime though!"

Amelia fell quiet. She idly turned the doll she was holding over in her hand. There was something there, some connection, but to make it, she'd have to think about the last time she saw Daddy, and she didn't want to.

The game they were playing had lost its magic. She didn't want to pretend the daddy was meeting his lieutenants at home for tea, she wanted to be having tea with Daddy. She wanted her family.

She looked at the beautiful dolls, with their beautiful skin and their beautiful blonde hair. Theo had blonde hair, and so did Jessica and Mr. Anders and Heith. They all looked like a real family. She didn't belong.

But she could. She could feel that bud of potential sitting at her center. She'd been ignoring it since That Night, but she could feel just how she would need to prod it in order to make it bloom the way she wanted, and before she'd really even considered it she'd done it. She could feel her curls relaxing, could see the dark brown brightening into a brilliant honey gold out of the corner of her eye.

Theo's eyes widened. "You're a cape?"

"I… guess I am," Amelia said. She hadn't really thought about it, but that was what she was, wasn't it? Her bangs were almost done changing, and she could feel the transformation beginning to spread backwards through the rest of her hair.

"That's so cool! What's your cape name?"

Huh. "I don't have one yet."

"I'm gonna be Baldr when I get my powers!" Theo said excitedly. "Everyone else in my family has them! I want to make light and shadows and shoot lasers like Purity and have sword armor like Father and - what else do your powers do?"

"I don't really know." Amelia ran a hand through her hair. It was so soft and silky, almost liquid, falling around her like a waterfall. "I can change myself." She looked closer at Theo, felt for the bud of potential within him. "I think I could change you too. Do you want me to?"

Theo nodded excitedly. Amelia smiled. "Okay," she said, and on instinct, she reached out and grabbed his hand; it made his potential feel more pliable, more reactive somehow. With a prod, it bloomed - not quite in the same way that hers had, but it would arrive in the same shape.

Immediately, his hair began to sprout, gaining length and luster until, in a matter of seconds, it was just as long and beautiful as her own. Theo yelped and pulled his hand away, running it frantically through his new hair. For a moment, he looked alarmed, but the look quickly turned to elation.

"That's so cool!" he exclaimed. "Can you give me swords for hands?"

Excitement bubbled up in her at the idea, and Amelia reached for his potential again, but found it… unreactive. Inert. Locked into its current shape.

That wasn't quite right though; it was shifting, ever so slowly, closing back up on itself and returning to its original shape. She could probably speed that along if she pushed, but a tentative prod in that direction encountered resistance and jarred her brain in a way that was impossible to describe, but distinctly bad.

"Sorry," she said. "Maybe once this wears off?"

"Aww, okay," Theo said disappointedly. "Wanna keep playing then?"

Amelia looked back at the dolls. "Something else," she decided. "Let's have a tea party. Where does your dad keep the nice cups?"

"The tall cupboards," Theo said. "Can you give me a boost?"

"More tea, Princess Amelia?"

"I'd be delighted, Princess Theo."

Theo giggled, nervous but smiling. "That's just a nickname. We're being fancy - you should call me Theodore."

"Of course, Princess Theodore," Amelia said, standing up so she could curtsy. "Forgive my rudeness." Her knee bumped the coffee table, making their teacups rattle. They hadn't been able to find any actual tea, but they'd gotten water from the sink. She sat back down. "How do I get a nickname?"

Mommy had used to call her something when she was really little, she thought, but she couldn't really remember it. Daddy always just called her Amelia, and though Heith called her darling, it wasn't the same.

"I can give you one!" Theo said, smiling wider. "I'll give you a really good one once you aren't a princess!"

There was the sound of a door opening.

"What the fuck is this?"

An older man with thinning blonde hair and a ruddy face contorted in anger was standing just inside the front door. Behind him stood Mr. Anders.

Across the coffee table from Amelia, Theo quailed.

The man strode aggressively towards Amelia and she shot to her feet, backing up instinctively.

"Don't you flee from me girl!" the man barked, and a knife materialized in his hand with a glint. "Take one more step and I'll make you regret it."

Amelia froze. The scabs on her face itched. Her knees shook. In her mind's eye, a velvet cape swished, a crown glinted, and Daddy collapsed.

"That's what I thought," growled Allfather. He continued to approach until he was looming over her. More knives were appearing in his hands in a myriad of cruel shapes. "This is the thanks I get for my mercy? I take you into my family, entrust you to my own son, and you poison my grandson? Trying to turn him into some sort of faggot, is that it?"

Amelia didn't know what that was, but she knew better than to ask, couldn't have asked through her chattering teeth. "I'm sorry," she managed to say, trying to shrink away from the terrifying man without taking a step.

"Prove it," Allfather snapped. "Change him back. And if you don't, if you aren't sorry? I will make you sorry." A knife struck the floor between her feet, point down, wobbling for a few seconds before vanishing. Amelia flinched.

Desperately, she looked over to Theo, who was pale as a sheet and curled up on the couch. She reached out to his potential, still in bloom but retreating faster now, and she shoved as hard as she could. A horrible frisson ran through her, shaking her bones, her teeth, setting her tummy twisting and her head pounding, and she cried out in pain, but Theo's hair was shrivelling, retracting, his potential rapidly returning to a bud. She could almost cry with relief.

Allfather snorted. "There might be hope for you after all." He looked over his shoulder to Mr. Anders. "Discipline the brats Max, and get James to put her through her paces as soon as possible. I'll be waiting in your office." He spared Amelia one more look. "Don't flinch," he commanded, and flung his fistful of knives up before walking away. They hung in the air for an unnaturally long moment, then fell, piercing through the air all around Amelia.

She whimpered, tears burning their way down her cheeks, but she did as she was told, and none of them hit her.

She barely had a chance to let out a sigh of relief before Mr. Anders was grabbing her by the shoulder. She looked up and saw that he was smiling, but there was something off about it. "So, Amelia," he said, "why don't you tell me just what you thought you were doing."

"I - we were playing, and I just wanted to look like you," Amelia said. She could feel her own change wearing off, her hair tightening back up.

"Well, I certainly can't blame you for that," Mr. Anders said in a very agreeable tone, but his hand squeezed even tighter. "But that doesn't explain why you had Theo sipping tea and looking like a pansy, does it?"

"I - I just asked him if he wanted to play with me, and he asked me to use my power on him!" Amelia protested desperately. She cried out as Mr. Anders' grip grew crushing.

"I see," he said in that same agreeable tone. "So you're saying my son wanted it, did he?"

Alarm bells rang in Amelia's head. "No!" she said forcefully, "He didn't want it, he just - I mean I just - I'm sorry," she said finally, as tears ran down her face.

There was a long pause. Then Mr. Anders let go. "I know you are, Amelia," he said kindly, and patted her on the head. "I accept your apology. It's not all your fault; Theo should have shut you down immediately. And I can't blame you for wanting to be one of us. But you can't just change your hair and pretend, you understand? You have to show me that you deserve to be one of us. Do you think you can do that?"

Amelia nodded vigorously, almost staggering with relief.

"That's good," Mr. Anders said. "The first thing you can do to start showing me that is by accepting your punishment gracefully. I think you're going to need a time-out."

Amelia took a deep breath. She could handle time-out. She'd been bad, but she was a big girl. She could take it. "Okay."

"Good girl." Mr. Anders ruffled her hair, then took her hand. He led her across the living room, back towards her bedroom, but stopped abruptly in front of a different door. Amelia only came to a stop when her arm pulled taught.

"Going somewhere?" he asked.

"My room?" she answered hesitantly.

"Oh! No, Amelia, no." Mr. Anders shook his head. He was smiling again, but different now. "That room is a privilege. We took you in in good faith and trusted you to follow our rules, but you betrayed that trust. You can have your room back once you've had time to think about what you've done." He reached out and opened the door, revealing a linen closet full of shelves. The shelves themselves were packed, all but the bottom. "Go on."

Amelia didn't think about the last closet she'd been in. She didn't. Very carefully, she got to her knees and crawled in.

"That's good, Amelia," Mr. Anders said. "That's very good. You stay right there until I come get you."

And he closed the door, plunging her into darkness.

Now:

Leah and Theo parted ways once they'd gotten past the metal detectors at the entrance to Arcadia - Theo to go talk to his friends, and Leah - who lacked those - to visit her locker. It wasn't that she was a complete social pariah or anything - even at her least sociable, some people still sought her out for her family name if nothing else. But Leah rarely had enough patience to endure her peers' inanity for long. None of them carried the burdens she did. Those few who might be able to understand what being a cape was like were her enemies. Then there were the undesirables who she had to pretend not to despise, and even when she did feel like putting up with all of that, she still had to endure the feeling of being the least favorite "friend" in whatever group she was trying to socialize with.

Better and easier, most days, not to bother.

After getting the books she'd need before lunch, Leah found a quiet corner to read another chapter of Shieldsister while she waited for the bell to ring. No need to seek out Victoria Dallon - they had math together in first period. If she was at school, she'd be there.

Leah really hoped she wasn't.

When the warning bell rang, Leah was one of the first to arrive. She nodded to the teacher, a stern man named Mr. Hanson, took her customary place at the back of the classroom, and watched. The rest of the class filed in over the next five minutes, and with each chair that filled, Leah grew more and more tense. Maybe, just maybe -

But just as the last bell rang, there she was. Victoria Dallon, tall, blonde, and beautiful, strode into class with the same perfect hair and perfect makeup as always, wearing her usual confident smile as if nothing was out of the ordinary. She plopped down in her usual seat three rows in front of Leah and leaned over to whisper a quick exchange with the black girl at the next desk over.

The sight made Leah's stomach burn and skin crawl, and she clenched and unclenched her fists several times. Victoria was the walking embodiment of Aryan perfection, and a cape to boot! That she would be so blessed and yet degrade herself by rubbing shoulders with niggers and worse made Leah want to scream.

Of course it had been too much to hope that she'd face consequences for tearing a loyal, unpowered soldier of the Empire limb from limb. The PRT were a bunch of hypocrites - they'd harp on and on about fairness and equality under the law, but they'd gladly look the other way when one of their favorites did something that would land an Empire cape a prison sentence.

Leah reined her righteous anger in. Victoria was here. That meant her job now was to get close to her, find out why she'd been missing in action over the weekend, and figure out if that had any implications for the Empire. She doubted it personally - most likely Collateral Damage Barbie had just thrown a tantrum about getting blood on her dainty hands - but it was what Father wanted. She wouldn't let him down.

So she waited for an opportunity. Mr. Hanson wasn't the sort of teacher who tolerated getting up and moving around to talk during class, so even if Leah was bold enough to just walk up to Victoria, that was right out. Every so often Mr. Hanson would assign group work in class, making them collaborate to prove some rule or principle that they'd just learned. Normally, these were the bane of Leah's existence, so it was just her luck that on this, the one day she would've welcomed one, there were none.

By the time the bell rang, Leah had accomplished nothing. She watched as Victoria stood up from her desk, now chatting with a different student - a white one this time, so at least she had a modicum of dignity - and tried to decide on an approach. This was their only class together today - she'd need to act now, strike up a conversation before second period, or she wouldn't have a chance until lunch.

Leah stood up, then hesitated. How was she supposed to do it, though? She couldn't just interrupt her in the middle of talking to her friend to say, Hello, I know we've barely ever said more than a sentence to each other, but could you tell me what happened after you brutally murdered a man that caused you to skip a weekend of heroing? It's just that you never take a weekend off, and don't worry about why I know your cape schedule so well. Thanks! She needed a defter approach. The only question was what?

Abruptly, Leah realized that Victoria wasn't in front of her anymore. She couldn't locate her with a quick glance around the room either. Hurriedly, she stuffed her supplies back into her backpack and tried to rush out into the hall, but the mass of students also trying to exit stymied her. By the time she'd actually made it through the door, there was no sign of the amazonian Alexandria package.

Fuck.

Her next class passed in a sickening blur of dread and anticipation. She'd have to confront her at lunch - it was the only other chance she was going to get. It wouldn't be hard to find her; Victoria was always at the center of the cafeteria holding court with her friends and hangers-on. But that was the problem; Leah would have to force her way into the swarm of sycophants and somehow strike up a conversation without making her motive completely transparent. It was like when her dad wanted her to socialize at a gala, except worse, because she had to get specific information and she couldn't bail and try again with someone else if she made a bad impression.

So when the bell rang and she joined the flow of bodies towards the cafeteria, she did her best to psych herself up. As she waited in line she planned her approach - what sort of casual greeting-slash-acknowledgment would make it seem normal for her to sit down at Victoria's table, how far away she should try to sit, how she could subtly steer the conversation towards talking about everyone's weekend and how she could prod Victoria without seeming pushy if she didn't volunteer the information. When she emerged with her tray, she was ready.

As expected, Victoria was at her usual table, with her usual gaggle. Leah walked towards it as confidently as she could manage. She was a god damn cape - if she could go toe-to-toe with Armsmaster, she could project confidence sitting down for lunch! She took a deep breath, she walked up to the table, and - oh god they were looking at her they were all looking at her Victoria was looking at her fuck fuck fuck - she kept walking. Dropping into an empty seat at the long table by the doors, Leah barely resisted the urge to faceplant into her tray.

It was fine. It was fine! She'd just - just eat her lunch, and then try again once they'd moved on from eating to just hanging out. Victoria's boyfriend was a Stansfield, and Leah had met a few Stansfields before! She was pretty sure his dad was a friend-of-a-friend of her dad's - not ready to openly support the Empire, but sympathetic to the cause when framed correctly. Maybe she'd met him. Maybe she could say hi to him, and transition from exchanging pleasantries into her actual objective, and maybe then trying to talk to Victoria Dallon wouldn't make her feel like her stomach was digesting itself.

She repeated this plan over and over to herself as she ate her mostly-tasteless lunch - chicken breast, mashed potatoes, wilting salad, and a pretty decent cup of chocolate pudding - and was in the middle of a long refreshing drink of still-hot coffee from her thermos when a loud slam made her choke. Spluttering, she looked up to see Victoria floating a foot above the ground, her face red. There was a dent in the table she'd been sitting at, and everyone else at the table was leaning as far away from her as possible.

The cafeteria was deathly quiet. Victoria revolved in the air, taking in her audience, and her expression curdled into something like shame as she alighted back on the floor. In the silence, her voice rang out like a clarion, a quavery and frail approximation of her usual carefree confidence. "I'm sorry. Don't mind me, I…"

She trailed off.

Her boyfriend, the Stansfield - Dane, maybe? Something like that - reached hesitantly for her, but before he could make contact she was off, walking as fast as someone could without running, abandoning her backpack as she fled the cafeteria.

After a moment's hesitation, Leah followed.

Victoria was much faster than her, but the trail of stunned students left in her wake made her easy to track, and it gave Leah an excuse to do something she very rarely risked at school; tapping into her resentment at Victoria's speed and stamina - and the way her flight let her cheat at both - Leah gave her own bud of potential a sharp jab, and broke into a jog as vital strength flowed through her legs and her lungs expanded to double their normal capacity. By the time she'd tracked her quarry to the girl's bathroom on the other end of the building, she wasn't even winded.

She entered cautiously. The bathroom seemed almost deserted, but there was a single closed stall right at the end. The sound of soft sobs echoed out from it.

Leah hesitated for several long moments before mustering her courage and saying, "Victoria?"

The sobs cut off abruptly. "Who's there?" came a shaky response.

"It's Leah - uh, Leah Anders. We have Algebra 2 together?" Leah grimaced.

"Oh! Hi Leah, um, did you need something?"

"Not really. I was in the cafeteria."

"Oh."

A sniffle.

Leah shifted uncomfortably. "Do you wanna talk about it? I know we're not, like, friends or anything, but… I don't know, maybe that's better?" She grimaced again. Stupid. Why would anyone want to talk to a stranger instead of -

Victoria laughed, a short, ugly, snorting laugh. "God, maybe," she said, then, "Dean broke up with me."

Dean, that was his name! Ugh, Leah hoped her dad didn't try to set her up with him next. "Is he retarded?" she said aloud. "You're way out of his league."

Victoria gave a huff that quickly turned into a half-sob. "I don't think I am. You… you probably heard what happened last week. What - what I did."

"A little?" Leah hedged. "I don't keep up with the news." The second part was even true - if any of it affected her, Father would tell her.

A deep breath. Leah waited impatiently, resisting the urge to tap her foot. Then, surprisingly steadily, Victoria said, "I killed a man."

Leah rolled her eyes, but tried to keep her derision out of her voice as she said, "I'm sorry. But he was the enemy, right?"

"He was scum," Victoria said fiercely. "He raped a trans girl and took pictures."

Any man who went out in public dressed like that was unquestionably asking for it, but somehow that didn't stop Leah from feeling a pang of pity for him and a mountain of disgust for their soldier. "Sounds like you did everyone a favor then," she said, and meant it - she didn't want men like that in her Empire. "If Dean doesn't see that, that's his problem."

"But I didn't mean to kill him!" Victoria practically yelled. She took a deep breath, and then continued, a little more quietly, "I just meant to hurt him. I've - I've done it before, taking down Nazis, hit them harder than I needed to to bring them down, dragged them around a bit before bringing them in, kicked them around when they mouthed off. It's just so unfair, you know? They kill innocent people, torture them, destroy their lives, and they get what, a few years in prison? And that's if we can make enough charges stick, if they don't take a plea deal, and it's not like they won't have plenty of sympathizers on the inside anyway!" It sounded like she was breathing hard. "And I can't actually do anything to help their victims, so the least I can do is make them suffer for it, right?"

"Right," Leah affirmed. It was galling having to sit and listen to someone talk about her people like that, but she also took a certain satisfaction in seeing the facade come down. Victoria could pretty it up however she wanted, but at her core she was exactly as brutal as the Empire. They just disagreed about who deserved to be brutalized.

"...I drop kicked him," Victoria said, and Leah bit down a snort of laughter at the incongruity between that mental image and the other girl's horrified tone. "I lifted him by the throat and dropped him, and I kicked him in the dick, hard, and I must've been a little off-center, because… because my foot went through his thigh. There was so much blood. And screaming. And I think I found a piece of bone in my hair later." She paused for a moment, then said, "You can run away screaming anytime you want, okay? I won't blame you."

This time she couldn't help it, Leah let a short snort of laughter escape. "I'll keep that in mind."

"How can you laugh about this?" Victoria demanded. "Aren't you afraid of me? I could do that to you . I wouldn't even have to try. It wouldn't even have to be on purpose."

Leah didn't correct her. "I don't know," she said. "Lots of capes can do worse than that, I guess. My dad lived through the Slaughterhouse Nine's visit, and he's told me stories. It's just a fact of life."

Victoria was quiet for a bit. "I guess it is," she said. "I think what actually bothers me most is that I didn't mean to do it. It doesn't seem right that I can just end a person on accident. If he deserved it, shouldn't someone have decided that?"

"Sounds like you should start killing on purpose as soon as possible then," Leah said with a slight smirk. "You can balance the scales by this time tomorrow if you really crack down on it."

Victoria made a choking sound that it took Leah a moment to recognize as laughter. "Oh my god, that's horrible!" she said. "My mom would flip! She and my aunt were apoplectic when they heard."

"Can I buy a thesaurus?" Leah asked snidely, then frowned. She knew what 'apoplectic' meant; why had she said that?

"Okay, my mom and aunt were hella pissed, yo, " Victoria said, and Leah laughed again. But then Victoria sighed and said, "Not that I'm their problem anymore."

"What do you mean?" Leah asked, trying not to sound too eager. This might be it!

"I'm officially out of New Wave," Victoria said. "The PRT might have been willing to tolerate a first-time killing in self-defense, but a suspect in custody? Absolutely not, especially once they took a closer look at my arrest record and connected the dots. I was told I could either hang up my cape or take a provisional contract with the Wards until I turn eighteen. They'll make the announcement next week. I'm benched until then - probably after, too."

A wide smile split Leah's face, and it felt like her entire body relaxed in relief. This was what Father had wanted from her! She had the intel! She'd done it!

And what a piece of intel it was! Already her mind was conjuring scenarios and possibilities. Glory Girl was easily the most marketable and profitable member of New Wave; losing her, especially under such circumstances, would be an enormous blow to their reputation and revenue stream. And without their flying brick, the team's flexibility and staying power would be significantly diminished. If they could arrange for a couple of high-profile, suitably humiliating defeats quickly, the team might disband altogether…

Abruptly, Leah realized that she'd left Victoria hanging. "That sounds like it sucks," she said, "Maybe a new team won't be completely terrible, though? Parents can be exhausting to work under sometimes - I bet," she added hastily.

"You have no idea," Victoria said obliviously, "but I've patrolled with the Wards before, and there are one or two that I'm not looking forward to working with right now. Oh!" she said abruptly, "Don't tell anyone about the Wards thing, please? It's supposed to be a secret until they announce it, so keep it between us?"

"Absolutely," Leah lied easily.

There was the sound of a bolt clicking, and the stall door opened. Victoria Dallon stepped out, and though it was clear from her eyes that she'd been crying, the rest of her looked as perfect and pristine as ever. Her mascara must've been waterproof. Leah felt that burning hatred in her stomach again as Victoria gave her a brilliant smile.

"Thank you so much, Leah," she said. "I didn't realize how much I needed that. Can I give you a hug?"

"I - sure?" Leah had barely gotten the words out before strong warm arms wrapped around her and pulled her tight against Victoria's chest.

She smelled like peaches. The heat in Leah's stomach was rapidly bubbling up into her chest, her face, the tips of her ears.

Victoria released her and gave one of her effortless, confident smiles, without a flicker of falsehood. "I'd better go get my stuff before third period," she said. "I'll see you around? I think we have English together tomorrow."

"Yeah, sounds good," Leah stammered. Victoria smiled again, then swept out of the bathroom.

Leah stood there, utterly nonplussed, until the sound of the bell jolted her into motion again.

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Rating:

Not Rated

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of ViolenceUnderage Sex

Categories:

F/FGen

Fandom:

Parahumans Series - Wildbow

Relationships:

Amy Dallon & Theo AndersAmy Dallon & Heith AndersAmy Dallon | Panacea | Red Queen/Victoria Dallon | Glory Girl | Antares

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English

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Published:2025-02-04Updated:2026-02-04Words:161,471Chapters:28/49Comments:739Kudos:336Bookmarks:73Hits:19,486

Broken Crown

thevalleyarchive

Chapter 4: Ozymandias 1.4

Chapter Text

Then:

Heith opened the car door and helped Amelia climb down from her booster seat. They held hands as Heith led her down an alley and up to an unmarked door. "Are you nervous?" Heith asked.

Amelia hesitated, then nodded.

"Don't be," Heith said. "James Fliescher is a wonderful man, a true friend of the family. He's going to help you figure out your power."

"Will you stay with me?" Amelia asked. She didn't want to be left alone with a stranger.

Heith smiled gently. "For as long as I can. I do have some errands I need to run, but I know you can be brave for me."

Amelia felt her lower lip tremble. She'd been feeling fragile ever since Allfather's surprise visit two days ago. But she wanted Heith to be proud of her, so she bit her lip and nodded. Heith smiled at her, then knocked.

A tall man with neat brown hair wearing a button-up shirt and tie opened the door. "Heith," he said with a smile. "A pleasure to see you. And you must be Amelia! Please come in."

They stepped into a sort of lounge space. There was a table surrounded by couches and comfortable chairs on a large rug with an interesting pattern. There was a heavy-looking wooden desk with a computer and neatly stacked papers. There were shelves filled with games, books, and boxes, and lamps filled the room with an even, warm glow. Still, there was something disconcerting about the room, and it took until the door closed for Amelia to figure out that there were no windows, and other than the area covered by the rug, the floor was cold cement.

Heith gave her a boost onto a sagging, comfortable couch, then sat down next to her. The man sat in an armchair on the other side of the table from them. "So, Amelia," he said, "an introduction. My name is James; I'm a colleague of Heith and Max's. I work with them and the rest of Richard's organization here, but I'm also affiliated with a group in Europe, Gesellschaft, that's very interested in parahumans. I'm here to help you figure out your powers. Do you have any questions for me before we get started?"

Amelia looked at Heith, who nodded encouragingly. She turned back to James and asked hesitantly, "Who's Richard?"

"You met him a few days ago," Heith said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He's Max's father."

Amelia's stomach dropped as she made the connection. "Allfather," she whispered.

Heith and James exchanged a look. "What do you know about Allfather?" Heith asked carefully.

"He's scary," Amelia whispered, staring intently at a whorl in the wood of the table in front of her. She could feel the whisper of knives falling around her. Her face itched.

"I suppose he can be, when he feels the need," said James carefully. "But he's a great man. He has a vision for the future, a better world. One you'll get to be part of, and one that we're hoping you'll be able to help us build. Your powers could help do a lot of good."

"You want to be helpful, don't you Amelia?" Heith asked encouragingly. Her fingers rubbed gentle circles into Amelia's shoulder.

Amelia lifted her gaze from the table and nodded. "Are you a cape too?" she asked James.

"I am," James said with a smile. "Would you like to see?"

Amelia nodded.

"Let's get a bit of space." James stood up and stepped away from the table. "Would you grab the box of ping-pong balls from that shelf?"

She turned to do so, but couldn't reach it, even standing on the tips of her tippy-toes. Heith slipped her hands beneath Amelia's armpits and lifted her. She felt a woosh of fear at the unexpected contact and sudden movement, but she pushed it down and grabbed the box. Heith set her back on the ground.

"All right," James said. "Start throwing them at me."

Amelia hesitated, suspicious. "Throw them at you?"

"As hard as you can," James confirmed.

Amelia looked up at Heith. "Can I?"

Heith smiled. "Of course darling. Just this once, though. It's not nice to throw things at people usually, but we're James's guests and he says it's okay."

"Okay," Amelia said. She took a deep breath, then hurled a ball as hard as she could at James. Ping-pong balls didn't fly very fast, but almost immediately, she could tell that it was slowing down too quickly. When it was about a foot from his face, the ball came to a dead stop and stayed there, hanging in the air.

"Do some more," James said. He smiled at her. Amelia felt an answering smile appear on her face, felt her apprehension draining away, and then she was throwing balls as fast as she could, giggling with delight. Before long, the air around James was full of balls, hanging like planets around a model sun.

When the box was empty, James asked, "So, what do you think my power is?"

"You freeze things before they hit you?" Amelia guessed.

"That's one thing I can do," James said encouragingly, "but my actual power is a bit broader. I can dampen or enhance the kinetic energy of objects around me." Seeing Amelia's confusion, he quickly added, "That is, I can make things that are moving near me move slower or faster."

"Slower or faster?" Amelia said, excited. "Show me!"

"Of course," James said with a laugh. "I can't do anything to these balls right now, because they've stopped completely - no kinetic energy left to affect. But" - he reached out and plucked one of them from the air - "with a small boost…" He gave the ball an easy, underhand toss, and almost faster than Amelia's eye could follow it rocketed into the corner of the room, rebounding off the walls and ceiling. It shed its incredible speed quickly, returning to something more normal before its trajectory took it back into James's orbit, where it once again came to a halt.

"That's so cool!" she said, delighted

"I'm glad you agree! Toss me the box, will you?" She obliged, and once it came to a stop James tucked it under one arm and began gathering the balls back into it.

Amelia turned to Heith. "What can you do?" she asked enthusiastically. "Do you just get big?"

Heith ruffled her hair indulgently. "I do a little bit more than that. But we're here to learn about your power, remember?"

Excitement fizzed in her veins, and she was practically bouncing as she turned back to James. "Can we do it now?"

"Absolutely," he said, setting the box down on the table. "Come sit down? We'll need to talk a little bit more before we get to the really fun part, but it won't take very long if you can be patient."

"I can be patient!" Amelia affirmed.

"Well," Heith said, "you seem pretty well settled. I'd better get going."

"Awww," Amelia complained, disappointed. "Don't you want to see me use my power?"

"You can tell me all about it afterwards," Heith said, "and show me too, if James says it's okay. Okay?"

"Okay…"

With a smile, Heith knelt and gave Amelia a hug. "Be a good girl for James, okay darling?"

"I will," Amelia promised into Heith's shoulder.

"Okay." Heith let go and stood up. "I'll be back in a few hours." To James, she said, "Call me if you need anything."

"Of course," he said.

Heith left. James sat back down in the armchair and motioned for Amelia to sit as well. She did, feeling suddenly shy.

"Why don't we start by going over what you think your power is," James suggested.

Amelia nodded. "I can change how people look," she tried. The words were leaden, insufficient, and she flushed in embarrassment.

James took it in stride. "That includes yourself, right?" After she nodded, he continued, "Do you actually change people's bodies, or just what other people see when they look at them?"

"People's bodies," she said, remembering the feeling of her arms unwinding when-

She made herself stop remembering.

James nodded. "When you want to change someone, what steps do you have to take?"

"I just… do it. I reach out and push, and they change. But it's not a push with my hands, it's with my mind?"

"Can you tell whether something will change before you try to change it? Without trying to actually change me, can you tell that you could, and can you tell that you couldn't change the table?"

"Kind of." Amelia frowned, thinking hard. "When I look at you, I can see, like, a seed or a flower bud, and I know it's you, and I can tell that it could change into a bunch of different things if I push it to. Except it's not really seeing? It's… it's seeing but it's not. And I don't see that for the table. I can't change it because there's nothing for me to push on."

"Fascinating." James had pulled out a notepad and pen at some point. "I'm going to test a few things quickly. If you close your eyes, can you still 'see' me?"

Amelia closed her eyes, and James and the rest of the room vanished. There was no sign of him or the bud of his potential. She tried to push with her power in the direction she knew he was, but it was like trying to move a third arm that she didn't have. The sensation made her squirm, and she opened her eyes. "No."

James wrote something down. "Okay. Just one second." He stood up and retrieved a folded blanket from a shelf. He spread it out, then held it up such that he was completely hidden from her behind its flat, black expanse. "What about now?"

"No."

He lowered it so only his head was visible. "Now?"

"Yes."

He raised it again, completely covered. "Now?"

"No," answered Amelia, confused. He'd already checked that!

One fingertip appeared over the top of the blanket. "Now?"

"Yes." It was odd, looking at a fingertip and seeing exactly as much potential as she had in a whole body. She wanted to say that this bud occupied the same space that his body would have, but it didn't, exactly, there was no shape to it, and trying to isolate its position made her head hurt.

The fingertip vanished, and James was once again completely covered. "Now?"

"No! You've already checked this!" Amelia said, frustrated.

With a sigh, James draped the blanket over the back of a couch. "I haven't, actually. The first one was to check if an object blocking your vision had a different effect from closing your eyes. The second was to check whether you could continue to use your power on someone out of sight if you had just been looking at them. This time I pressed my eye against the blanket so that I could see you through it, even though you couldn't see me. I know this might seem tedious, but powers can be particular and subtle, and understanding those subtleties is important if you want to have an accurate grasp of what you can do.

"To give an example with my own powers, I can affect kinetic energy in a wide area around me, and I can sense whenever an object with kinetic energy enters that area. I cannot sense anything about that object - not speed, not size, not position. Unless I can see it, all that I know is that I can affect it with my powers. My mental processing speed also isn't particularly fast - if something's been thrown at me from out of my line of sight, it will probably hit me before I can determine what it is. The degree to which I enhance or dampen something also isn't under my control - the closer something is to me, the more dramatically it's affected. I only control whether it's affected at all, and whether I make it faster or slower.

"All of that has a significant impact on what I can realistically achieve with my powers, and how I manage them. For example, when something unexpected enters my range and I don't know what it is, I almost always start slowing it immediately until I've had a chance to identify it. When you threw balls at me earlier, if I had walked away without putting them back in the box, they would've started slowly falling as my dampening weakened."

Amelia listened tensely, watching his face and movements closely. James's tone was emphatic but not frustrated, and his face looked calm, but that didn't mean she was safe. Mr. Anders had been smiling when he closed the closet door on her.

"Please understand," he continued, "that I don't say this just for the sake of reprimanding you. I didn't have the opportunity to discover my powers in a controlled environment; I had to learn by doing, and I had many close shaves that I could've avoided if I had better understood how my own power worked. I don't want you to be seriously hurt, or worse, because your power doesn't behave the way you expect in a crisis. So I need you to be patient with me, no matter how pointless, or redundant, or boring my tests seem. Can you do that for me? For real this time?"

Very carefully, Amelia nodded. James smiled. "Excellent," he said, and picked the blanket back up. Spreading it out, he held it up so that only the top of his hair was visible. "Can your power see me?"

"Yes," she said, trying to project conviction and focus.

The blanket twitched back up, hiding him again. It took a few moments, but then his hand poked out, now covered by a glove. "Now?"

"Yes."

The hand withdrew. The blanket started rippling. Amelia stared in confusion for a moment, then realized that James was pulling the blanket back against himself so that it draped over him, his body making a person-shaped indent. "Now?"

"N-" Amelia started, then stopped, blinking. There was no hint of visible skin or hair, only a blanket conforming loosely to his features, but his potential shone through with perfect clarity. "Yes," she said.

"Fascinating," said James. He lowered his arms and began folding the blanket back up. "We'll return to testing your power sight another time. For now, I'd like to move on to how you affect yourself with your power. Is it the same as with anyone else? Do you just see a bud of potential for yourself?"

"No - or, not really?" Amelia chewed her lip. "I have one, but I can't see it. But I don't need to? I can always feel it, but I don't really notice it unless I think about it." A burst of inspiration struck her. "Like my toes!"

James chuckled. "Okay, your own potential is like your toes. So if you close your eyes, you can still perceive it?"

She closed her eyes briefly, then nodded. Her potential might as well have been at her fingertips, soft and pliant, practically begging to be shaped.

"That's good." James gestured, and Amelia stood and hesitantly stepped away from the couches. "I'm going to have you change yourself now. Are you ready?"

Excitement bubbled in her chest, and she nodded enthusiastically.

"We'll start easy then, something you've already done. Make your hair blonde and straight."

Her excitement turned cold and curdled. "I can't."

James frowned. "Of course you can, you've done it before."

Amelia shook her head hard; he didn't understand. "I can't," she repeated. "Mr. Anders said I have to earn it." She remembered crouching in the closet, her legs long since asleep, listening to the sounds of Allfather - Richard - and Mr. Anders talking, then of Heith getting home, Jessica's subdued voice, the clink of dinner dishes. Her tummy was growling, and she had to pee so bad she'd thought she would burst, but big girls didn't pee their pants, and she didn't. Cry. Out.

James placed a hand on her shoulder, and Amelia jumped. "Amelia," he said softly, "Max - Mr. Anders - he wants you to do this. Learning how to use your power, being able to help us with it, that's how you earn it. I promise you won't get in trouble for this. I'll take full responsibility."

Tears pricked her eyes. She nodded quickly, closed her eyes, and with a sharp prod, she changed. It came faster than it had before, her curls quickly relaxing. She took a deep breath in, held it, let it go, and then opened her eyes.

James was smiling at her. "That's very good, Amelia. Can you revert it?"

Collapsing her potential back down to a bud was harder than it had been to make it bloom, but it was much easier than undoing her change on Theo. Before long, she was back to normal.

James called out a series of changes, and Amelia carried them out. She changed her eye color, her height, she added muscles and made her fingernails long, sharp, and hard. All of the changes were more difficult and took longer to occur than her hair had, but they were easier for her to revert. James switched to having her do multiple changes in a row without reverting, and that was harder, her potential resisting each additional alteration more and more until she reverted them all. Maybe she was just getting tired, but it seemed as though her potential, even as an unaltered bud, was growing stiffer, more rigid, requiring more and more effort to push into new shapes. When she voiced this aloud, James nodded.

"That's good to know," he said, "but for now, we'll keep pushing. We need to discover your limits." He wrote down a few more notes. "Turn your fingers into spoons."

That was hard, harder than anything she'd previously done by a longshot. She was gasping by the time her potential grudgingly began to unfurl, sweat running down her face. Slowly, her fingers reshaped, becoming inflexible, shiny, and metallic as the tips began to flatten and spread. Amelia vaguely thought that it should've felt strange, but it didn't - it was just slow. It took over fifteen minutes for them to finally settle. When James asked her to revert it, she thought it would surely be impossible, but her potential responded to the lightest touch, as if eager to vacate the shape.

"Alright," James said. "Let's repeat an earlier test. I want to see if it's actually gotten more difficult for you, or if it just feels more difficult. Turn your eyes blue."

Turning her attention to her potential, Amelia found it hard and unyielding. "I can't," she said.

"Try," James said. His voice was calm and undemanding, but it was equally unyielding.

Amelia looked inward again. Mustering all her willpower, she pushed. Her bud remained static. She pushed harder, refusing to yield to it. Darkness began to creep in on the edge of her vision. Her entire world shrank down to the unstoppable force of her will and the immovable object of her potential.

Pain split her head, and with a horrific, nauseating lurch, her will unwound. No longer focused into a single jabbing point, threads of her consciousness deflected and separated, scattering in all directions and shredding Amelia's mind and senses. Someone was screaming, part of her registered. Another part of her raised an arm, and a third saw that her hand was melting, dissolving into waxy droplets. Her eyes were going too, and soon she couldn't see. It wasn't until her lungs were puddles that she realized the screaming had been hers.

There was no way to measure the time Amelia spent in the dark. Without organs to sense, nerves to feel, or a brain to think, she shouldn't have been aware, and yet she was; agonizingly so. It was a sensory deprivation so complete that it defied conception, and she was conscious and aware for every immeasurable iota of it.

Her first sign that her purgatory was coming to an end came in the form of a warm fizzing sensation. She couldn't say where exactly she felt it; if she was experiencing a sensation, then she must have had some sort of body with which to experience it, but there was no context to it, as if she was just a chunk of non-specific meat. As the fizzing spread, she became aware of her pulse, and that must mean she had a heart. With that realization came the urge to breathe, but it was several more agonizing seconds before she had a mouth with which to take greedy gasps. The sensation of her lungs expanding was such a profound relief that she would've cried if she had eyes.

Eventually, the fizzing sensation stopped spreading, then ceased. Amelia could feel cold, hard ground beneath her. It wasn't comfortable, but she hesitated, afraid that if she tried to move a muscle she would discover that it didn't exist.

"Amelia? Can you hear me?"

She opened her eyes. James's face loomed over her, wearing a look of concern.

"Yeah," she said, then flinched at the sound of her own voice. It should have been raw from screaming or gummy from sleep, but instead it was clear and steady, as if nothing had happened at all.

"You must be cold," he said, and disappeared from her view. Numbly, Amelia sat up, and it was only as she saw James returning with the black blanket that she realized she was naked. He draped it over her and wrapped it snuggly around her shoulders. It was soft and warm, like a hug.

"Do you feel solid?" James asked. "Can I move you to the couch?"

"Yeah," she said again. Her voice still sounded wrong. Was that what her voice was supposed to sound like? The thought was alarming. Or it should have been. She felt funny. She wasn't sure what she felt. She wasn't sure if she was feeling at all.

Gently, James scooped her into his arms and settled her down on the couch, then stepped away. "Do you need anything?"

Amelia shook her head.

Idly, she watched as James busied himself bustling around the room. There was a fancy-looking camera on a tripod that hadn't been there before, pointed at what she thought was the spot she'd been laying. James fiddled with it for a bit, then broke it down and carried it over to the heavy desk. Amelia spotted her clothes, neatly folded and resting on a corner. There was no sign of flesh - or wax, or whatever it was that she'd become - on them. A part of Amelia wanted to frantically search her body for any missing chunks, but she'd have to unwrap herself to do that, and that seemed like a lot of work. Besides, she'd be cold.

There was a countertop recessed into the wall behind the desk that she hadn't noticed before. There was a sink set into it, and a small cabinet occupying about half of the remaining available surface. An electric kettle was plugged into a wall outlet, and James set it to boil before rummaging in the cabinet and producing a number of items, including a pair of mugs.

Eventually, James returned to the table bearing two mugs of hot cocoa. He set one in front of Amelia, and she saw that it was swimming with mini marshmallows. She looked up at James, and he smiled softly. "I've found that cocoa is never the wrong answer after a difficult experience," he said. "It should be cool enough to drink, but be careful."

Amelia raised the cup in both hands. Her arms shook with the effort of keeping it steady. To her own surprise, her first instinct was to reach for her power to give herself more muscle. Her potential felt more like a stone than a bud, though, and just the smallest brush against it was enough to make her physically recoil, almost spilling her drink. But she persevered, and managed to take a small sip.

Rich, sweet, and creamy, the cocoa spread warmth down her throat and into her belly, and the numbness that gripped her insides began to retreat. "I can't use my power anymore," she said, and though her voice was shakier, it sounded more like hers.

"That's absolutely fine," James said reassuringly. "We're done for the day. I've already called Heith; she should be here in forty-five minutes. You can just relax." He took a sip of his own drink. "I'm sorry you had to experience that, but it was important for us to know what would happen if you overextended yourself. Better that it happen here, when you're safe, than out there when you're not." He hesitated for a moment, then asked, "But for the sake of completeness, when you say you can't use your power, is that just a feeling, or can you tell?" He sounded almost eager.

"I can tell," Amelia said. "It feels like it felt before- like it felt that last time."

"I see." He jotted down a quick note. "Thank you."

They sat quietly for a time. Once she finished her drink, Amelia began to fidget. The blanket had stopped feeling comforting at some point and started feeling suffocating. "Can I put my clothes back on?"

"Of course." James retrieved her clothes, then walked away to stare intently at one of his shelves. Amelia dressed herself as best she could - her hands were still shaking, and even if they hadn't been, she wouldn't have been able to do the ties on the back of her dress. Heith had done them for her that morning.

"All done," she called out.

When James returned to the table, he was carrying a battered, colorful box with him. "Have you ever played Candyland?" he asked Amelia.

Amelia shook her head, leaning forward to look more closely at the cartoonish characters. They were cute, but… "This looks like it's for little kids," she said uncertainly.

"I'll have you know that this was my daughter's favorite game when she was about your age!" James said with faux-indignance. "Got it for her for her fourth birthday."

"I'm six!" Amelia protested, offended.

"My apologies," James said, raising his hands in surrender. "By the time my daughter was six, she was too grown up and embarrassed to play games with her dad." With a soft sigh, he picked that box back up. "I never realized how few chances we'd have to play this together," he said softly. Amelia didn't think he was really talking to her anymore.

She thought of Daddy, and her heart seized.

"Wait!" she said, and James stopped, half standing. "I do wanna play actually."

There was something behind his smile that hadn't been there before as he set up the board and explained the rules. It made her feel just like that first sip of cocoa had.

As she moved her piece around the board, Amelia wondered, "How old is your daughter now?"

"Sixteen," James said, grimacing as his piece became mired in the Molasses Swamp. "My sons are twelve and ten."

"Do any of them have powers? Can I meet them?"

"I'm afraid not," he said. "They attend a private boarding school outside of the city. I decided early on that it would be for the best if they stayed out of the fight. Even my wife only knows the absolute minimum about my involvement in our movement. She's supportive, of course, but… well, what am I fighting for, if not to build a better world for the people I love? We're not there yet, but I give them what happiness and peace I can."

Amelia frowned. "What's our movement?" she asked. Daddy hadn't talked a lot about the other groups of capes in the city. She knew a little, but most of the details came from TV shows about the Protectorate, and she didn't recognize any of her new grown-ups from those.

"You don't know?" James sounded surprised. When she shook her head, he pursed his lips. "Well that won't do. You need to know who we are if you're going to be one of us. You want that, don't you?"

She remembered the closet. "Yes," she said fervently.

He smiled. "We're known as Empire Eighty-Eight. Maybe you've heard of us?"

The bottom fell out of Amelia's stomach. "You're Nazis," she whispered.

"We are," James said evenly.

"Even Heith?"

"Especially Heith. Max is Allfather's heir, the canny strategist who brings his father's plans to life, and Heith is the steel in his spine. Behind every great man is a great woman keeping him steady." James's smile hadn't changed, but it turned Amelia's blood to ice. "You're very fortunate to be in her care. She has much to teach you."

She shook her head in mute horror. Her eyes darted around the room - she needed to get away.

"Amelia." James leaned forward, and her eyes snapped back to his face. "What do you actually know about us? You've been told that we're monsters, but do you know why?"

"You kill people!"

"Your father killed people too," James said, and a jolt went through Amelia - no one had said anything about Daddy to her since she left his house. "He killed many, many people, including Max's sister Elizabeth and Jessica's sister Vanessa. In spite of that, Heith and Max have welcomed you into their home with open arms. If your father wasn't a monster, how could they be?"

"But Daddy never wanted to kill people," she protested weakly.

"Neither do we! If we could fix the world without shedding a drop of blood, we'd do it in a heartbeat - that's just not how the world works. Even the heroes know this; they don't hesitate to hurt the people they think they need to. The only difference between us and them is that they're afraid to acknowledge how deep the rot goes, or who's really responsible for it." James took a deep breath. "All I ask is that you don't jump to conclusions. You're a smart girl, Amelia; you can decide for yourself. Take your time. We won't abandon you."

Amelia stared at the gentle, compassionate man on the other side of the game board from her. She thought of Heith, reading to her as she cuddled close. Even Mr. Anders, who had been so calm and reasonable when she broke the rules. Very quietly, she said, "Okay."

James smiled at her and took his turn. He drew a card, raised it to his face, and let it fall dramatically from between his fingers. It fluttered to the table as he shook his fist at the heavens in mock despair. "Doomed! Doomed, I say!" he proclaimed dramatically. "I shall remain trapped within the Molasses Swamp e'er more, condemned to a sticky fate for all of time!" He turned to Amelia, his eyes wide and solemn. "Tell them of my fate, I beg you! Do not let my name be forgotten!"

Amelia giggled, and took her turn.

Now:

Leah returned with her news to a hero's welcome. Father was effusive with his praise, promising that there would be new deployments as early as tomorrow to capitalize on the opportunity to neuter New Wave. He vanished back into his home office to make several calls, at least one of which must have been to their personal shopper, because a delivery of groceries arrived an hour later. When Kayden got home from work and Father informed her that they'd be having cranberry-and-apple stuffed pork chops for dinner - Leah's favorite - she set to preparing the meal with minimal grumbling.

When he put on his Apologetic Smile to break the news that Jessica was acting as Victor's bodyguard on a visit to the Herren Clan and wouldn't be able to attend her dinner, Leah had to fight to keep from grinning.

Dinner was exceptional. When Leah went to set the table, Father waved her off and told her to sit down. While Kayden ferried plates and cutlery over, he unlocked the Good liquor cabinet, which typically only saw the light of day for holidays and guests. He returned with a bottle of red wine and an aerator. Kayden thanked him, if a little stiffly, when he passed her a glass, but she pursed her lips so hard they nearly vanished when he poured a third glass and set it in front of Amelia.

Theo got grape juice.

Throughout the meal, Father was ebullient. He spoke of business both Empire and Medhall, openly voiced his musings and speculations, and was enthusiastically solicitous of Leah's opinion on nearly every topic. Though initially hesitant, Leah found that he treated her thoughts with abnormal weight and seriousness, and she found herself warming up, speaking more freely and enthusiastically as the evening wore on and the wine filled her head with a pleasant fog.

Eventually, Father withdrew to his home office and Kayden whisked Aster off to her bedroom, leaving only Leah and Theo. They both had homework to do, but Leah was still giddy and cajoled Theo into watching a movie with her. It wasn't a hard sell - her brother adored The Matrix.

But like all good things, the evening came to an end, and when he emerged for breakfast the following morning, Father offered her no more praise or affection than usual. Not that Leah didn't have bigger things to worry about - she was attempting to drown a hangover in coffee.

Father would be briefing his lieutenants on his plans for the New Wave situation that evening. They'd brief their subordinate capes in turn, but as Leah and Jessica were Father's only direct subordinates without subordinates of their own, he usually included them in his inner circle meetings. In all likelihood, she'd be hitting the streets that night.

That prospect was going to have to do some serious heavy lifting to get her through the school day.

By lunch, her head was feeling significantly more normal. She grabbed her meal from the cafeteria and had just gotten set up at her usual solitary slice of table with the intention of catching up on the homework she should've done the night before when someone else dropped a tray onto the table next to her. Leah flinched, dragging her pen clean across her paper. "Fucking shit!" She rounded on the person invading her space…

And froze in shock as Victoria Dallon settled in the seat next to her with a smile. "Hi Leah," she said cheerily, "Is that the Algebra homework? You're braver than me, doing math with a pen. I always have to erase stuff."

What the fuck.

"What are you doing?" Leah demanded, not even trying to keep the hot anger coiling in her gut out of her voice.

Victoria's face fell slightly. "Oh, you're right, I didn't even apologize. Sorry for startling you and ruining your paper! I can help you rewrite it if you want?" She brightened back up. "We could do the homework together!"

Wrestling a semblance of control back over her turn, Leah said, "I meant why are you sitting here?"

"Oh! Well…" Victoria looked a bit embarrassed. "Usually when me and Dean break up it's his fault, and he either stays away from our table for a bit or sits there all contrite, but, well, you know. It's different this time. Also, I think I scared people yesterday when I lost my temper. I don't want to feel like I'm inflicting myself on them, I guess."

Leah almost snapped, But you'll inflict yourself on me? but restrained herself at the last second. She could use this, couldn't she? If Victoria wanted to kid herself that they were friends or something, then that could give them an in with New Wave, with the Wards, and with the PRT more broadly. She knew Father already had a handful of moles and informants in their ranks, but no one so directly involved with their cape activity.

It would require Leah to endure the other girl's hateful company with a grin, but with the echo of her dad's warmth still lingering from the previous day, it seemed like a small price to pay. So she channeled her pique into a more productive direction. "You can keep your apology, I want reparations." She gave Victoria's tray a once-over. "Pudding reparations. Gimme."

With a sigh, Victoria picked up her pudding cup and placed it on top of Leah's own. "Whatever it takes to make things right. That's what heroes do."

Leah didn't try to stop herself from rolling her eyes, but she did make herself fake a smile. "You're forgiven. This time."

"Great!" Victoria said with a smile. "If we're gonna do homework now, maybe we could hang out properly after school? My afternoons are pretty clear" - she glanced around dramatically - "until you-know-what , anyway. Wanna hit the Boardwalk?"

Leah hesitated for a moment. Kayden had appointments this afternoon, and Father was working from the Medhall corporate office today, so neither of them would be expecting to see her at home. The strategy meeting wouldn't be until after dinner, so there was no reason she couldn't, but…

But nothing. She needed to ingratiate herself. "Sure," she said with a shrug. "Let me text my brother so he knows not to wait up." Him and their chauffeur both.

Theo sent back a horrifying collage of thumbs-up emojis. Leah imagined it was what the Simurgh would look like with thumbs instead of feathers.

"Your brother goes to Arcadia?"

"Yeah, he's a freshman. Theo." A real smile touched her lips.

"Maybe my cousin Eric knows him!" Victoria's brow furrowed. "Knew him? Eric's still in middle school; doesn't come to Arcadia until next year."

Leah hummed noncommittally. What exactly was she supposed to say to that?

Nothing, apparently; Victoria barrelled right along. "Do you have any other siblings or family you're close with?"

"A baby half-sister, Aster." Leah swallowed a lump of old grief, but it still hurt on the way down. "Mom died when I was thirteen. Dad remarried about two years ago. Not a lot of extended family. I have a - well, we call her a cousin, but really she's my mom's cousin, even though she's closer to my age and Mom kinda raised her for a while. Anyway, her name's Jessica, and she's a real bitch."

Victoria gave a kind of snort-laugh, which Leah found insipid; it wasn't like she'd said anything funny. "What about you?" she asked. May as well keep up the inane getting-to-know-you chatter.

"No siblings," Victoria said, then hesitated. "How much do you know about New Wave?"

"The basics, I guess? I keep up with the local cape scene" - hah - "but I'm not, like, a cape nerd or anything."

"Okay," Victoria said, looking briefly disappointed, and Leah felt a spike of disdain momentarily join her hatred. How conceited was she to be sad that Leah wasn't one of her family's fangirls? "I've got one other cousin, Crystal, she's just a little bit older than me. Both of them are in New Wave, same as my aunt and uncle, so we're pretty close. Not as close as they are with each other though. You're lucky to have your brother - I always wanted a younger sibling."

Leah was spared having to reply to this by someone else arriving to invade her space. A girl with elaborately braided red hair, a stubborn chin, and translucently pale skin sat down across from Victoria. Leah disliked her immediately; why did she get to be pretty? She had even more freckles than Leah did! "Hey Vicky," she said, and Leah felt a stab of satisfaction that at least her voice was unattractive; all high and nasally. "What are you doing hiding over here?"

"Helping my friend Leah with her homework," Victoria answered brightly. Leah's irritation grew - she hadn't touched her homework since Victoria got there, just endured her chatter. "Do you two know each other?"

"I don't think so," the redhead said. She gave Leah a pale imitation of Father's Ingratiating Smile. "Hi, I'm Violet."

Leah shrugged. "Leah."

"I like your pin," Violet said, pointing to the sole decoration on Leah's backpack - a piece of metal in the shape of a napping rat, curled on itself adorably, the details picked out in white lacquer.

"I like rats," Leah responded flatly. She saw Violet's smile falter a little at the conversational roadblock. Good; Victoria's sycophant didn't deserve her effort.

Unfortunately, she wasn't alone. No sooner had Violet gotten settled than another voice interrupted. "I was wondering where you'd gotten to today Vicky!"

Leah looked up and couldn't quite hide her grimace as she saw the new arrival was a black girl. Her hair was a dense, revolting mane, and her makeup was garish against her dark face. Her choice of clothing aped her betters rather than embracing the thuggish, whoreish styles more natural to her kind. Leah wasn't sure whether that was an improvement or not.

"Hi Laney!" Victoria said enthusiastically. "Didn't want to sit with Dean after yesterday. Sorry about that, by the way."

"Don't even worry about it," Laney said, waving it off. "I've seen worse breakups."

"I'm just glad I got you in the divorce," Victoria joked.

Laney laughed softly, then glanced at Leah. She felt her skin crawl as Laney said, "Leah, right? From Algebra?"

Oh. She must be the one Victoria was talking to yesterday. "That's me," she said. She relaxed a little when Laney sat down on Victoria's other side without further comment. At least she wouldn't have to look at her very much.

She did not get so lucky the second time. A few minutes after Laney's arrival, just as Leah was making a real start on her homework, a masculine voice asked, "Is this seat taken?" and Leah glanced up. Standing across the table from her was a spic. He was tall, wearing a smile that would've been friendly and gentle on a white face. On his, it was grotesque in its incongruity.

Leah was spared from having to answer by Victoria. "Carlos!" she exclaimed, sounding surprised. "I thought you'd be sitting with Dean."

"I can take turns," Carlos said. "If you don't mind?"

"Of course not! Pull up a chair."

He sat down directly across from Leah, and turned his ridiculous smile back her way. "I feel like I know you from somewhere. What's your name?"

"Leah," she said tersely. "Don't get food on my homework."

"I'll be careful," he said. "Anders?"

"Yeah," she responded. She wondered what it was to him, but not enough to prolong the interaction by asking.

Lunch passed in an agonizing blur, Leah trying and failing to focus on her homework while Victoria and her clique made inane, distracting conversation that they kept trying to rope her into. Leah tried to keep her irritation and disgust under wraps while returning the minimum acceptable response. She eventually gave up on homework entirely and started using her power to repeatedly change the color of her toenails to pass the time.

Eventually, the bell rang, and after some irritating goodbyes and empty platitudes, she was free. In a way. For a little bit. Fourth period was English, and she had that with Victoria too. Leah took her time getting there, so all Victoria had time to do was give her a quick wave from the other side of the classroom before they took their seats. Fortunately, English was one of the more enjoyable classes, and Leah was feeling at least marginally refreshed when the final bell rang and Victoria came over to her desk as she packed her stuff up. "Ready to go?" Victoria asked excitedly.

Leah made a valiant attempt at enthusiasm. "Sure," she said.

Once they'd left Arcadia grounds, Leah started towards the nearest bus stop - she couldn't get driven everywhere, so she was passingly familiar with the city's public transit - but Victoria's hand on her elbow brought her up short. She spun around, biting down a vicious rebuke and instead pulling herself out of the other girl's grasp. "What?"

Victoria gave her a smile that was almost wicked. "Why take the bus," she said, "when you can fly Air Victoria?"

Leah's cheeks began to burn as she realized what Victoria was suggesting. "No."

"Leah." Vicky extended her arms, still smiling. "Haven't you ever wanted to fly? Because whatever you've imagined, I promise, it's so much better."

Tingles of hot anger pulsed beneath Leah's skin as she imagined being wrapped in Victoria Dallon's arms, suspended by her impossible strength. "Absolutely not."

Victoria pouted. Actually pouted.

This was ridiculous.

Leah turned on her heel and started fast walking towards the bus stop. For a moment, she didn't think Victoria was following her, and her current indignation clashed with a fear at how Father would react if he found out that she'd fumbled this opportunity with her stubbornness. But a moment later Victoria floated up alongside her, sprawled out horizontally in the empty air like it was a chaise longue. "You're missing ooooooouuuut," she trilled.

Leah groaned. "Why did I agree to this?"

Victoria righted herself and started walking alongside her. "Well it apparently wasn't because you wanted to take advantage of my powers for the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to soar through the sky like a majestic eagle, so I guess it must have been my winning personality.

In spite of herself, Leah let out a bark of laughter, and a genuine smile snuck onto her face. "Sure, that must be it."

Victoria looked pleased with herself.

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Chapter 809 - 3-4