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In Nuclear Fire by BatRou-Dawg
Misc » Book X-overs Rated: M, English, Supernatural & Fantasy, Words: 606k+, Favs: 54, Follows: 65, Published: Apr 10, 2023 Updated: Apr 18, 2023
21Chapter 23
'Undersiders Attack Lung's Holdings.'
The bold, green letters of the announcement flash over my visor, sending a chill down my spine.
That's the hottest new thread in the Brockton Bay's section of PHO. A thread that goes on to discuss yesterday night's events when the Undersider successfully robbed one of Lung's safehouses.
The attack is public knowledge, and that's making the dragon unfathomably angry. Adding insult to injury, that was just one of several embarrassments that he suffered yesterday.
The Undersiders didn't attack alone, with several other coordinated strikes having been launched all over ABB territory. Oni Lee was hurt during his fight against the Undersiders, and that took away Lung's sole way of projecting power. Without his teleporter, the leader of the ABB was too slow to reach the areas of conflict before the attackers were long gone.
The information on the thread also gives me an idea of why Purity got herself involved with the Merchants. It seems that she had bombarded some ABB position earlier that day, and was making her way back to wherever she lives when she stumbled upon us, deciding to help out of the goodness of her heart.
This all makes zero sense.
Checking the calendar, yesterday should have been the day that the Undersiders attacked the Ruby Casino, a week before Taylor's canonical debut, but that should have been a very low-key operation. As far as I know, no one even heard about that one in canon.
And then there's Purity's involvement. As I remember, she was getting progressively more frustrated with her lack of lasting success against the ABB.
Her old contacts weren't talking to her, she couldn't find good information on the ABB, and that was one of the things that Kaiser used to bring her back into the fold. But this news here suggests that she delivered a serious hit, blowing up multiple weapon depots.
And then there are all the other attacks.
Due to Purity's involvement people are already claiming that the E88 was behind this, despite no official announcement or sighting of any other Empire member.
This is not them.
Purity shouldn't have returned to Kaiser yet, and the presence of the Undersiders suggests that Coil is involved.
I don't like this.
"Did you see the news?" Taylor asks me as I walk into the living room. Long John is on her lap, having his belly rubbed.
I nod.
"They are saying that a new gang war is about to begin."
The TV is droning about the battles in the docks, the damage, and the casualties. Also about how people should remain calm as the PRT is ramping up their patrols around the place.
That does sound like a nice distraction if you want the heroes focused there and not anywhere else in the city.
"Anything about us?" I ask her as I see that one of the images' shown is that of the Merchant Meth Lab.
"No. They claim that Purity was the one to destroy the lab."
Well, she was, and this is convenient to keep our anonymity, but I can't but feel a pang of anger at not having our participation properly credited.
"And the hospital?"
"The same."
PHO isn't talking about it either. The presence of PRT personnel was noticed, and there are photos of Armsmaster at the place, but the main theory is that someone triggered in the ICU.
At least those photos give me a reason to believe that my tech is now with Armsmaster, something that I don't mind that much. There are far worse options there.
"So, what will you build now?" With a swipe of the remote, Taylor turns the TV off.
Isn't that a good question? I spent a mostly sleepless night just thinking about what I should build.
The Cardcaptors tree is kind of weird. I have picture-perfect images in my head of the cards as I remember them: as pieces of paper with spells written on them. I know there's something there, but when I try to replicate them, my power just fizzles.
If I were to compare it with something, it would be compared to trying to flex a limb that doesn't exist.
But I know it exists! I can feel it. My power doesn't, though, and it's trying to translate the problem into a language it understands. I think that the issue here is that shards don't have the concept of 'magic' or conceptual energies, and so mine settles with duplicating the effects of the show with tinkertech.
The result is something that in my mind looks like a solid-state drive with the pictures of the cards stamped on them. Once activated by the wand, they take shape in the form of hard-light constructs. In that way, something like The Fly would materialize as bright wings on the back of the user.
All in all, I'm surprised that it's so- well, no, cheap isn't the correct word. The cards, as my power offers to build them, are absurdly complex programs shoved into a crystalline matrix next to a compact power source.
The Khaydarin can fulfill both purposes once I've given it a couple of days to regrow, but in terms of time, I'll need days to properly program, compile, and debug each card.
"As I told you I want to focus on my own mobility." I don't want to depend on Taylor anymore, and if I'm right I'll be able to upgrade my drones with the cards too. "I have a module that can enhance my jumping capabilities and another that can grant me flight."
Taylor perks up at that.
"Flight? That sounds useful." Yeah, she always wanted to fly. One of her childhood dreams as I remember. One I should be able to fulfill now.
"I'll need a couple of days of set-up before building it, so in the meantime, I was thinking of visiting some pawn shops for resources."
The drones have been doing a great job bringing me iron and copper, but if I want something like rare earths, silver, or gold, I need to steal or buy it.
"Oh, I was thinking of going out to buy some more stuff for Arcadia. Want to come with me?"
Well, not much I can do at home right now beyond watching my Khaydarin grow and my drones reproduce, so why not?
"Sure, let's go."
I swear that my powers are bullshit.
Oh, the part of taking concepts from fictional settings and letting me build them with modern-day technology is perfectly understandable. I'm fine with that. The issue is what it takes from those fictional universes.
Case in point: as I walk down the boardwalk with Taylor next to me, I glance at a showcase with several dresses and my power goes into overdrive.
I recognize the quality of the fiber, the types of embroidery, and even the way each color clashes with each other. I know that one was sewed with a lockstitch while that other was sewed with an overlock stitch. I have no idea what those are, I just know it.
For some reason, my power decided that Tomoyo's sewing knowledge was important, and so it was shoved into my head.
Last night I didn't mind that much as I used that knowledge to joke with Taylor, but now that I had time to think about it I have concerns for my power's thought-processes.
"A moment." I stop Taylor as we walk past a particular shop.
"What is it?"
The shop in question is named 'The Sewing Grandmas'. A name that I feel is fairly self-explanatory.
Can I make this work? It's stupid. Something to satisfy my own vain ego and little else. But we do need new uniforms, and a good base will make adding armor and other tools easier. If I make it look good, all the better.
"Let's go in here."
The one to receive us is most definitely not a grandma, and the young woman immediately zeroes into Taylor. "Hello, customer! How can I help you?"
Taylor flinches and solves the problem by dumping it on me. "Actually, he's the one who wants to buy things."
The girl eyes me as if she isn't sure if this is a joke or not.
"I demand a sewing kit and basket with tiny skulls glued to it!" I announce.
"We- have one with Armsmaster's logo?"
That man puts his face on everything!
But yeah, what the hell? I'll take it.
To that, I add several square meters of fabrics of different colors and qualities and a portable sewing machine.
Then we move on, this time Taylor taking the lead as we head towards a bookstore. "What are you planning on doing with that?"
"Oh, you'll see." While I wait for the Khaydarin, I'll keep myself busy with other projects. I already have the image of the finished product in my mind and I think that Taylor will like it.
We buy the school supplies for Taylor and take note of some pawn shops where she buys some jewelry that I'll later melt into circuitry.
Having money is seriously useful! Yes, it's drug money but we're repurposing it for a better cause.
With our purchases for the day done, we sit at a restaurant to take a bite before returning home. The place is located on a pier overlooking the bay, and there are a couple of TVs switched to the news channel.
They keep insisting that the situation in the docks is under control despite rumors of a steady escalation in gang activity.
"Are you ready for your big day?" Tomorrow Taylor starts with Arcadia, and I want to talk about something not related to the impending gang-war looming over our heads.
"I hope I am. I just don't know what to prepare for."
"Relax, you'll do fine." I want to reassure her by telling her about how we can just kill those that offend her, but I don't want to talk about child-murdering in a place where we can be so easily overheard.
"Tomorrow I'll know. One way or the other."
Our food arrives and we dig in.
This is fucking delicious! Who knew that Brockton Bay had such a robust fishing industry?
I'm halfway done with my dish when Taylor pulls from my sleeve. I look at her and find her staring at the TV.
My heart skips a beat.
On the TV there's a photo of us. Of Ladybug and Tech-Priest, taken the night that we talked with Armsmaster.
"These two underaged vigilantes are being sought for questioning." The anchorman announces. "They are considered dangerous, and have information on an ongoing investigation. If anyone sees them or has evidence on their whereabouts, contact the PRT immediately."
The other patrons start whispering amongst themselves, many of them concerned with our young age.
So, the boot finally drops with the PRT announcing our existence to the city. At least the boot wasn't as heavy as I was fearing it would be.
Officially at least. Only God -and the Simurg- knows what Piggot and the rest of her people are arguing about behind closed doors.
I look down at my plater. The prospect of stuffing myself with fried fish no longer sounds as appealing as a moment ago.
"I lost my appetite."
Taylor agrees with my assessment pushing her own dish away. "Yeah, me too."
Long John's wheel creaks as he runs behind Taylor, trying to keep up with her.
We're at the factory, our base for the lack of better terms despite the fact that it's even less equipped than our home.
Taylor's running circles around the main warehouse, catching up on the training that she ignored during the previous week. Meanwhile, I tinker.
The pieces of a broken sewing machine lie scattered all around me next to the tools I used to open one of my larvas.
I could have done this at home, but Danny was there and with Taylor we decided to come here for privacy. Not like we have been using that privacy for much because we spent the last hour and a half in silence.
Taylor drops to the ground and starts doing push-ups.
Her endurance is worthy of admiration. I've lost count of how many laps she has run already, and every so many cycles she stops to perform other exercises.
I'm getting tired just looking at her!
Something wet caresses my fingers and I see that Long John has come to me. Taylor follows, now on a break, and I toss a bottle of water in her direction.
She catches it and takes a sip. "Thanks." Long John gets comfortable on her lap as she sits next to me. "Why don't we join the Wards?"
My tools almost fall out of my hands. I wasn't expecting that. "Do you want to join the Wards?"
"No." She states, her tone deadly serious. "I just want to know what they'd give us for joining them, and what we'd lose."
Normally when people ask 'why don't we X' they are asking for permission to do X, but Taylor's question sounds completely genuine.
"Is this about the news?"
"Yes." She tosses the now empty bottle to the side. "I keep wondering if we're doing the right thing, and would like to hear your opinion."
Sounds reasonable.
I scratch my chin trying to remember all that I know of the Wards from my previous life, adding to that the flyer that the PRT left us at home.
"Well, the Wards program would offer us support in the form of a team to cover our backs," I'd say that's the most important part.
Officially the Wards never see action, but here in Brockton Bay where the forces of law are stretched thin? Enough to say that I'm absolutely sure that the BB team would utterly dominate any other Wards team in a straight battle.
"We'd also receive training on how to handle different threats and a steady pay that would go to our college funds. Their PR machine would be on our side making civilians want to help us, and, as a tinker, they'd also give me resources to build my inventions." If anything, that's the benefit that tempts me the most. "
And to top it all off, I think that most of them are genuinely nice people." Well, except for Sophia but that's another story.
Taylor grunts, folding her arms. "Armsmaster was a jerk."
Was he? I honestly agreed with all that he said. "I found him refreshingly direct and reasonable."
"Of course you'd believe that." She rolls her eyes. "But then why don't we join them?"
Oh, boy, is that closet full of skeletons. Most of which only a handful of humans on this Earth know about. Sadly the fact is that, even if I don't mind the individuals that much, the organization as a whole is a mess.
But that's not the only reason. I'd say it's not even my main reason.
"When I started this after getting my powers, I did it with the full intention of just doing my own thing." I still remember my first day here. Discovering I had landed in Worm of all places wasn't nice. I don't like the setting, and even less so the people that live in it. Everyone's so stupid.
"I was angry with the world, with myself, and with pretty much everything." I still feel mostly the same, just a tiny bit more focused. "Joining them was never under consideration for me because all I wanted was to have all the fun I could get out of my power before my inevitable demise." What else is there to hope for in this setting?
Taylor stares at me for a moment processing what I just told her. "That's a very grim and selfish outlook in life, isn't it?"
"I am a very grim and selfish person." I shrug.
"But then why did you insist on helping the person at the hospital? That doesn't make sense with what you just told me."
I press my lips into a thin line, my attention returning to my tinkering.
More than once in the past I stopped to think about why I feel the way I do. I rarely found an answer.
Back at the hospital, there was only this raw, visceral certainty that saving the man's life was the right thing to do, and that was it. It had to be done, and so I did it.
And yet I felt nothing like that when killing Coil's goons, or when leaving those Merchants to die at the explosion of their lab.
"It does make perfect sense." A welding point here, another welding point there. Tinkering is relaxing and predictable, unlike talking to people.
"I told you, didn't I? I hate this world. I hate how it is, what people do, and what they allow to happen in it." I clench my teeth and force myself to steady my hands. If I lose my cool I feel like I'll take this device and smash it against the ground to vent my anger.
"It's wrong. If I start thinking about all that is wrong because of people's stupidity my stomach aches, and I can't sleep at night."
The cases 53, Cauldron and their shortsightedness, the fucking Birdcage. "If I can do something about it then I don't think, I just do it because then I feel that maybe, just maybe, not everything is lost."
That maybe death is not an acceptable alternative.
"You're kind of scary," Taylor says after a moment. "And really complicated."
"Complicated? No. I'm amazingly simple." The best things in life are. I wished more people could be like that. "It's just a matter of getting to know me."
"If you say so." Long John wines as Taylor scratches his ears. "But did something change? You told me this was your mentality when you started. Isn't it anymore?"
No, it isn't. At least not entirely. "It changed after I met you."
"Me?"
"Yes. I got to talk to you, you listened to me, and were nice to me." She forgave me for stealing her things, went with me to the library, listened to my complaints, and even sat next to me while I tinkered. If one day I decide that all humans are to die, I'll make sure that she doesn't.
"I consider you my friend, and so I'll do everything in my power to help and defend you." In my eyes, being a loyal friend is more valuable than being family. Family has to stick with you because of the law and social pressure, but a friend that decides to follow you out of their own free will? That's far more valuable.
"Wow." She scratches the back of her head, looking away in embarrassment. "I really don't know what to say."
"Just be happy knowing that there's someone out there that would happily kill for you." That's what friendship is about: murdering the enemies of your friends. "Because to help a friend? There's nothing I wouldn't do." No atrocity too big or sin too unthinkable. That 's my motto.
"And now you made it weird again," Taylor says with a hint of humor in her words. She doesn't fully believe me. Maybe one day I'll show her how serious I am, but I doubt she'd want to remain friends after that. That would be a real shame.
I set my device down. It's almost done, and for this question I want to be looking at her. "But what about you? Why don't you want to join them?"
Taylor's eyes drop to Long John, who's licking her fingertips. "Mom's death was— I don't think I can even describe it. The world stopped making sense and I felt so small and weak. I thought I was getting better and that was when Emma betrayed me." You can blame her father and Sophia for that. Also the ABB.
"Then Winslow happened, and during a long time dad— he was just not there." She picks the dog up and presses him against her chest. "I was so alone. I felt like a witness to my own life. Everything was so chaotic and I could do nothing more than watch as things just kept happening. And no one listened. No one helped me."
And everything came to a stop the day of the locker. "That was when you got your powers."
She nods. "I got the chance for a new beginning, of doing something no one would stop. I still remember what you told me the night we burnt Winslow. About why I didn't use my power to take revenge on the Trio. I guess I had just given up on being Taylor Hebert. I wanted to ignore Winslow. Wanted to believe that if I kept pretending it didn't exist, that would become a reality."
I put a hand on her knee. "That never works."
"Yes, I know! But I was scared. I didn't want to lose control of my powers the same way I had lost control of everything else!" She takes a deep breath. "The idea of having someone over my shoulder looking and judging everything I do terrifies me. I finally have a saying in what happens in my life, and I don't want to give that up."
I return to my tinkering. It's almost done. "Then I think that the question of if we're doing the right or the wrong thing is utterly meaningless. The only thing we want is to do whatever we want to do."
She sighs. "I guess that's it, then."
A last tightening of a bolt and- there! My latest creation is finished. "Take a step back, Taylor."
She does as I say, and once we're a safe distance away, I trigger the device.
It explodes.
Not in fire, sparks, or any other exotic effect, but in ribbons of clothing.
Long John whines in fear, cowering against Taylor's chest. "What's that?"
"This, Taylor," I add a pause there for dramatic effect, "Is your superhero costume."
Her eyes widen as she walks to the pile of clothing. "Could you turn around for a minute?"
I obey and after a moment of waiting I'm called to witness the result of my hard work.
It begs to be repeated: I'm a freaking genius.
Her suit is a mix of reds and blacks, woven together in wavy patterns. The circles and curves of her design make her look approachable, but that doesn't mean that she doesn't have edges.
Her shoulders are sharp, making her back look broader, and the high neck of her shirt makes her look taller. I'm not giving her a cape, but I'm emulating the effect with a longcoat tied to her waist.
The fabric has been lined with silk harvested from Taylor's spiders for extra protection, and all the pieces have been customized to be able to adapt to mech-zerg implants.
Shit, I'm just realizing that in trying to replicate the colors of an actual Ladybug, I turned her into a freaking edgelord. Oh, well, red and black go well together. And my design is not only fashionable, but also practical, and comfortable! So, in summary: Shadow Stalker, eat your heart out.
"What do you think?" I ask her with no small amount of pride.
She runs her hands up and down her sides, taking in every detail. "It's amazing." She says that as if she doesn't fully believe her words. "Amazing enough to distract me from the fact that you somehow knew my measurements."
"I plead tinker power." The device that wove the suit is the newest strain of Mecha-Zerg: the scarab. It's an evolution of the larva, built as a sewing assistant in the vague shape of a horseshoe crab. I pick it up and hand it to Taylor. "Now, put on your visor, and then the scarab over it."
She eyes me wearily at that.
"I assure you that nothing will be implanted into your brain." Seriously, I thought we had already gone over this.
She complies, and the moment the scarab touches her visor, it fuses with it, unfolding around Taylor's head like a helmet. The similarities with a Power Ranger's helmet are very much intentional.
"Wow." The changes to the visor are largely cosmetic but will add some extra defense to her skull while keeping her identity better concealed.
"Now, do you see the new app in your visor?"
"The one that says 'morphosis'?"
"The same. Run it."
Sakura didn't have a transformation sequence. Her suits weren't magical but crafted by her friend Tomoyo, who then filmed sakura fighting evil on them. Because of this my power doesn't have a transformation mechanic to 'latch' onto, but I found a workaround: after building the scarab, the next step was installing into it the principles of Action.
Action, from the Clear Cards arc (an arc I only read the first couple chapters of), has the capacity to animate any inanimate object. I didn't need the full card for this, so I stripped it off it's more high-end powers and limited it to the small-scale animation of fibers in a localized area.
That drastically lowered the price, and when paired with the processing power and battery of the visor, this all allows the scarab to interact with the clothes that a person's wearing.
The result is, well, a magical mascot mixed with a morpher. And once it starts running, the process is almost instantaneous.
Taylor's costume shifts, the fabrics waving as strips of cloth are absorbed into the scarab, replaced by different ones. Not all of it is absorbed, of course. An underlying mesh remains untouched through the process, both for the sake of Taylor's modesty and my own health. I'm not Japanese and so I don't feel the need to include a step where Taylor is nude during her transformation.
The time the Scarab takes to do its thing can be measured in heartbeats, and once it's done Taylor is left with completely different clothes. Also of my design.
"When did you do this?" She asks in amazement looking down at herself.
Gone are the ugly browns and greys of her usual wardrobe, replaced by a turquoise shirt that contrasts very nicely with her skin color. I also got rid of her usual pants and replaced them with a black skirt. The image is complete with some nice shoes and thigh-high socks.
The red and black helmet doesn't go with the rest of her clothes, but that one she'll have to remove on her own.
"I took the time to make a little extra for you," I explain. We don't have a mirror here, but I solve that issue by linking my visor to hers so she can look at the result from an outsider's perspective.
"I never had anything this nice before." She strikes a pose, checking the quality of the fabric.
"And you'll be wearing that to Arcadia tomorrow."
"I think I'd like to do that." She brings her hands up to her head. "How do I take the helmet off?"
"Go to 'Morphosis' again and pick 'Civilian Disguise'."
There's a hiss of servomotors and Taylor's helmet folds back into the scarab. But it's not done yet! Another hiss and now Taylor's holding a black and red backpack, built from the same fabric of her costume.
"You want me to bring tinkertech to school?"
It is a fair concern, but I think that the benefits outweigh the risks. "I added some useful stuff to make it hard to steal," Like a beeping alarm and a GPS, all thanks to the Visor that's now fused with the Scarab. Worst case scenario, the backpack can turn into the scarab and dig his way back home.
"I'd be more comfortable knowing that you have the visor with you in case you need to contact me, and if something happens, you can quickly change into your Ladybug costume." I'm unsure if visor-to-visor communication works through Arcadia's faraday cage, but I still want to give her something to defend herself with, and bringing a pistol to school is just asking for trouble.
She purses her lips in deep thought. "I guess that's reasonable. Will you be working on your costume next?"
"Oh, absolutely."
Sadly I don't have time to finish my scarab before dinner time, and so I leave that for the following day.
Tomorrow a new week starts. One that promises to be dangerous for all the inhabitants of the Bay, but we'll be ready.
Or, at the very least, properly dressed for it.
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In Nuclear Fire by BatRou-Dawg
Misc » Book X-overs Rated: M, English, Supernatural & Fantasy, Words: 606k+, Favs: 54, Follows: 65, Published: Apr 10, 2023 Updated: Apr 18, 2023
21Chapter 26: Piggot Interlude
The officers of the PRT had been trained to deal with criminals and monsters with powers beyond human comprehension. They were sturdy, courageous men and women that dared to face the worst that the world had to offer.
And yet, even they gave Emily Piggot a wide berth as she walked down the corridors of the PRT Headquarters.
They knew not to cross her when she was in a bad mood. Her rictus of barely controlled anger was evidence of that.
Having her daily hemodialysis being interrupted because of an emergency did that to her. Last week had been because a trafficing ring for underaged parahumans had been discovered, and now someone had modified a person in her city, implanting them with unknown tinkertech.
Memories of the horrors she experienced through Nilbog's uprising came to mind, together with the dossiers she'd read on Bonesaw. Innocents twisted into monstrosities as a groteske joke.
She wasn't going to let that happen. Not in her city.
As she opened the doors for the conference room, she took a moment to glance over the assembled personnel.
Armsmaster and Renick were a given. Dragon, in a monitor, was an expected addition due to the topic at hand. The last two attendants were a surprise.
"Panacea and Carol Dallon, what are you doing here?" New Wave was one of the few surviving parahuman groups that rejected the use of masks, but unlike her mother Amy Dallon was in uniform so that was the name that Piggot would use.
Armsmaster was the one to answer, "I requested the presence of Panacea to have a more detailed analysis of the victim's biology."
"And I'm here," Carol continued, "In my role as Amy's parent."
The woman was dutiful, and her refusal to play the charade while managing normal work as a lawyer was worthy of admiration. Emily would even consider her pleasant if it wasn't for her inflexibility and refusal to work with others.
For someone who liked talking about accountability, Carol Dallon didn't like supervision.
"Very well," Emily took her seat, "Where's the victim?"
Armsmaster gave her a folder with the details of the victim's confinement. "In cellblock C."
"Why not in the Master/Stranger cells?" Those cells were the ones designed to isolate and contain people with potential mental alterations.
"Under the circumstances, I suggested putting him in a cell where we can properly monitor the tinkertech device. I also ordered Assault to keep watch in case we need to restrain him, and Gallant to monitor his mental state."
A reasonable decision, even if she didn't like it. There had been few documented cases of tinkertech safely implanted on people, and so they were working on mostly unexplored territories. "How likely is he to need to be restrained?"
"That's more difficult to answer." The one to say that was Dragon, the monitor with her face switching to show several pictures of the man's torso. The entire left pectoral had been replaced with machinery, and the skin of that section was now a dark grey mesh that went all over his side and back. "As far as we were able to establish, the victim, one Anthony Vega, retains all his mental faculties."
"They all do until some madman triggers them." The PRT had seen that happening far too often. Valefor came to mind.
"We have tried to identify anything in the construction that could act as a radio receiver or timer, but so far have failed." Normally that would mean nothing. The creations of each tinker were different, unpredictable, and difficult to understand even by other tinkers. But that was exactly Dragon's specialty. "The device has also seamlessly integrated with the victim's parasympathetic nervous system and doesn't seem capable of influencing his brain or causing a hormonal imbalance. These are the results of only a couple hours of study, and we'll need many more days, if not weeks, to fully analyze the device, but the parts for something like that are simply not there."
"What about the other victims? I understand there were three more?"
"Three more humans," Renick was quick to reply. "But we started finding evidence of dozens of animals healed similarly."
Animals? Emily hadn't read that on the preliminary reports.
Noticing her confusion, Renick elaborated. "We received reports of several 'miraculous' recoveries in multiple animal clinics and shelters. We believe that our tinker was testing his device with animals before starting with humans. We're checking them, but so far this is the only case where the patient was left with tinkertech inside them."
That was a surprisingly restrained behavior for a tinker. Most of them were desperate to test their newest creations the moment they finished them, most of the time missing flagrant design flaws. That was why all PRT tinkers had to go through such a strict approval phase. "At least he isn't a complete lunatic." She tapped her fingers over the document on the desk, the one that contained all the scans of the device. "What exactly does this thing do? I refuse to believe that a tinker would be satisfied with just duplicating what's already there."
"That's correct," Armsmaster confirmed. "With Panacea, we tried to stimulate the heart with different chemicals but they all brought negative results. We believe that the heart may be able to filter most known toxins and poisons, but we can't be sure without administering the victim a potentially lethal dose of chemicals."
"Of course our tinker couldn't resist adding some improvements." But what would they gain by just giving away their technology? Was this a message? A test? "Let's assume that the tinker can't take direct control of the victim through the heart. Could he demand ransom to give maintenance?"
There was a sudden shift in the room. She saw that in the way that Armsmaster's fingers twitched, and how Dragon's avatar went suddenly still.
"The heart has self-maintenance properties."
"Excuse me?"
She had to have misheard that. The need for extensive maintenance and the tendency of their devices to malfunction was the main thing keeping Tinkers in check. It was the reason why Squealer didn't build an army of modified vehicles for the Merchants, and why Bonesaw couldn't create a zombie plague.
Silence fell on the room, and Panacea stepped in. "The victim has been noticed with more appetite than usual, craving meat and other foods rich in proteins. There has also been an increase in red and white cell production, and an imbalance in the amount of food consumed with that excreted. Even if I can't see the artificial heart, I believe it's using the victim's biology to repair itself."
So the heart could alter the way the body behaved. Maybe it couldn't throw the victim in a mad rage, but it could affect him in other ways. "What if it demands more, and starves the body?"
"Like cancer?" The girl asked in amusement, making Emily frown. "Maybe, but any normal organ could do the same, and I haven't noticed any change in the victim's remaining biology. No unnatural growths or losses of mass." She shrugged. "From a biological standpoint, he's perfectly healthy."
"That's why I shared the scans of the heart with Dragon," Armsmaster added. "It goes beyond the parameters of what most tinkers can do. If replicated, this construction method could be used to resolve our problems with mass-production."
Piggot's mouth went dry. Anything that a parahuman could produce 'en mass' represented a serious threat.
"Adding to what Armsmaster said, there's a lot to learn from the way it was built. Its design is almost fractal in nature."
Emily pressed her lips into a thin line. She didn't like dealing with tinkers. She didn't like admitting that there was much in their language that she didn't understand. "I'm not a tinker, Dragon. Explain it simpler."
" I apologize. What I mean is that the function of each individual piece gets reflected on the whole. In theory, this design is endlessly scalable and adaptable. It's why I believe that it was built on the spot from a much bigger one."
Endlessly scalable? That alone brought its own set of implications, none of them good. "Why was this the only patient affected? Why didn't the others receive new legs or lungs?"
Once again all eyes turn to Panacea. The girl sighed, frustration coated her words. "The other patients suffered from conditions they could naturally heal from. There was nothing wrong with what was already there, it was just a matter of putting everything back in its place."
Yeah, that, or maybe the tinker had run out materials to build more implants.
The old wounds that Emily received against Nilbog started itching. She might not have known much about tinkertech, but she knew about human health. "But a heart with a genetic disease couldn't be put back together without it failing again. This gives us a clear limitation on what the tinker can or cannot heal." Small mercy that. They'd have to warn hospitals that housed patients with similar conditions. "Now, if I may ask: why didn't you heal him?"
The girl rolled her eyes. "Because there's always something going wrong somewhere in this city, and I need a lot of time to prepare organs for transplant. Worse if there are no donors and I need to build the organs from scratch. You'd know that if you had ever asked me for new kidneys."
Emily's fingers tightened against the edge of the desk.
"Amy!" Carol chastised her. Then turned to Piggot. "My daughter's behavior aside, that question has no relationship with the issues at hand so there's no reason for us to keep discussing it."
And there the woman was with the lawyer talk. "Indeed there's not." She cleared her throat. "Very well, do we have anything else to discuss with Miss Dallon?" There was a negative to that. "In that case, I thank you for your time, but until further notice, I'll request that Panacea comes here once a day to check on Mr. Vega's condition." Her attitude aside, she was the best healer at their disposal and Piggot wasn't going to waste a resource.
The girl opened her mouth to reply but her mother got ahead of her. "Of course she'll be happy to."
Panacea closed her mouth and in silence followed her mother outside the room.
Now that Emily found herself alone only with PRT personnel and affiliates that she could trust, she asked the question that was of primary concern for them: "What is the worst-case scenario here? What is this technology capable of?"
"As Dragon said, it's incredibly adaptable. This tinker would be able to rearrange any piece of technology on the fly to adapt to new battle conditions." There was an edge of jealousy in Armsmaster's tone. With his specialization in miniaturization, he had prided himself on always carrying the tool for the job, but now there was a tinker that could surpass him in that field. "And if he doesn't need to maintain the rest of his equipment the same way that other tinkers do, then they have more time to work on new projects."
Several scenarios flashed through Emily's mind. Tinkers were always upgrading their existing creations, and building new one. But the more they built, the harder it all was to maintain, and attacking their supply chains was how the PRT had fought them in the past. Now there was someone here who could dedicate more time than usual to his creations, and who could just keep building them. "So we're talking about someone well equipped and unpredictable. Do we have evidence on who the perpetrator is?"
Armsmaster's jaw tightened. "I believe it to be Tech-Priest."
That made sense. A new tinker had revealed himself and now this happened? But she didn't like advancing without knowing the full picture. "What makes you say that?"
"From our initial observations, the device is hardened against EMP. Most tinkers don't have the specialty to defend against such attacks, but Tech-Priest affirmed that his were. The fact that he used EMP grenades against Coil's men confirms that." The attack where two men had died. It didn't matter that they were gang members, if not worse. Having an underage child running around with an itchy trigger finger was a recipe for disaster. "And with the way this technology works, he'd only need to upgrade one device before translating that upgrade to all his other devices."
"And if he already upgraded one, why not all?" The more she heard and thought about this, the less she liked it. A tinker who could easily modify and upgrade his tech without the need to maintain it? How would they even keep someone like him under control? "I want you all to keep this information under wraps. The gangs will kill to have a tinker like him or to prevent others from getting him. I want him found ASAP." She didn't want to even think what Kaiser could do with a tinker.
"If you allow me, Director." Dragon interrupted. "Be it Tech-Priest or anyone else, they clearly show a degree of concern for human lives. Maybe they can be contacted peacefully."
Dragon was another woman that Emily could respect. She had dutifully served with the PRT for years and was the Warden of the Birdcage, but her lack of consideration for harsher methods sometimes proved problematic. "If they want to help,fine," She said through clenched teeth. "But they'll do that under PRT oversight once their tech has been properly tested." How many people have died because a cape believed themselves better than they were? "Tech-Priest and his partner are underaged, impulsive, and dangerous. I won't have someone like them experimenting on people."
At least she could always count on Dragon following orders. "Of course."
"Good, because there are procedures for this for a reason. Now, this is what we're going to do. Renick: make an announcement. We want to bring Tech-Priest and Ladybug in for questioning. Don't mention their crimes, we don't want them to retaliate, or alienate them if it turns out they are unrelated, but inform the public that we want them to answer some questions about an ongoing investigation. Also, warn hospitals about sightings of them." Hopefully, someone would see them and give useful information. "Dragon: can you help monitor the progress of the victim?"
"I can. I've been working on similar technology and studying this sample would help me advance my projects."
"In that case, I want one of your suits at the base. Officially you'll be working on a joint project with Armsmaster." There was a bit of manipulation there. Emily had noticed the interest that Dragon showed towards Armsmaster -everyone who had seen them talking had, despite the man himself remaining blind to it- and she'd take any opportunity to work with him. Having one of her suits on standby would also prove invaluable against the gangs.
"I'm busy with an investigation on Calgary, but as soon as I can I'll send one of my suits to you." The tinker replied eagerly. "How will we proceed if the tech proves harmless to the victim?"
"If the heart proves harmless?" She rubbed her chin, "Mister Vega will be returned to his civilian life under PRT watch." There had never been a situation exactly like that before, but they couldn't restrain a civilian indefinitely. Even if it was for his own good, the public wouldn't like it. "He will be carrying a piece of valuable tinkertech for the rest of his life and many would want to steal it. Armsmaster, you'll help there." Then she thought about the two problematic kids. The teleporter that Armsmaster had seen in action would make them extremely hard to track down and restrain. "I also want you to develop ways to counter Tech-Priest's tech."
"Of course."
"Good. I won't have someone playing God with the people of this city, so let's get to work." All Parahumans believed themselves to be gods one way or another. It was in their nature. No person could remain sane after gaining such amazing powers after the trauma of a Trigger Event.
It was then the job of people like Emily Piggot to keep them humble. If they could focus on this problem, they might have Tech-Priest and his partner in the Wards, working for the PRT, before the week was over.
Shortly after that meeting, Emily Piggot received reports that one of the Merchant's biggest Meth Labs had been destroyed, that Lung's holdings had been ransacked, and that the Empire was mobilizing.
"Fuck."
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In Nuclear Fire by BatRou-Dawg
Misc » Book X-overs Rated: M, English, Supernatural & Fantasy, Words: 606k+, Favs: 54, Follows: 65, Published: Apr 10, 2023 Updated: Apr 18, 2023
21Chapter 24
A new day, a new week, and a new school for Taylor. This is the day where we'll see if all our efforts were worth a damn! And as we walk down the stairs it feels me with pride to see Taylor dressed in the clothes I made for her, carrying her scarab over her shoulder.
So proud I am that I barely see Danny waiting for us.
"Taylor? What are you wearing?"
Curious, shouldn't he have left for his job already?
"Oh, this? Just something I pulled from the closet." Taylor lies. "I haven't used it in ages."
I'm already thinking about refurbishing her entire wardrobe. It should be super easy.
"Reminds me of one of your mother's dresses."
"Yeah. But, dad, why are you still here?" Yeah, Taylor also notices the strange presence of Danny at the house.
"I'm going to take you to Rochester." He smiles as I have never seen him smiling yet. He actually looks happy.
Taylor's back straightens, her face going very pale at that.
"Rochester?" I ask.
"Yes, Taylor's new school." Wait, what? "It wasn't easy but I managed to get her a position there through my contacts in the Association."
My hair stands on end. Shit, we never told Danny about Arcadia, did we? What were we thinking?! Of course he'd notice!
Oh, but how could we have explained all the illegal hoops and loops we went through to get Taylor there?
Shit, shit, shit! This is what happens when you treat people as non-entities. They tend to wander off and take initiatives.
"You don't have to, dad. Seriously." Taylor sounds like a robot as she says that.
"Nonsense! Let your old man escort you there."
Oh, come on! Why did he choose this time to pull his head out of his ass and start behaving like a father?
"Mister Hebert," My tone is deadly serious, "No offense but if one of my classmates arrived escorted by her parents we'd all laugh our asses off."
Taylor emphatically nods at my side. "Yes, dad. I want to have a strong start, and arriving at school with my dad won't help there."
"Your old man embarrasses you, Taylor? But it's okay, I understand." Damn, he genuinely sounds wounded by that. But seriously, how old does he think she is? Oh, yes. The last time he interacted with her in any meaningful way she must have been twelve.
I must repeat myself: why did he pick this moment to start caring again?
Not in the best of moods -so, like always- he departs for the docks, leaving Taylor and me alone to drown in our panic.
"You knew about this?" I yell.
"I- maybe? Dad did tell me something while I was studying, but I didn't pay him much attention! We never told him about Arcadia!"
"I know!"
"What's going to happen when his school calls asking why I'm not going?"
We don't have time for this! Literally. If Taylor doesn't take the bus now she'll be late for her first day at Arcadia. "This is what we're going to do: you go and enjoy Arcadia. I'll come up with a plan."
"Okay. Yeah. Let's try that. Just try to not make it weird."
Why did she feel the need to add that part?
The pencil scratches the paper as I put the images from my head into drawings. It's the last break before lunch, and I'm using the chance to go over all the cards that I have at my disposal. I have 52 powers to consider, and that's without adding the Clear Cards, and the guardians Cerberus and Yue.
There's a lot for me to consider and I don't even know where to start.
If we go for infiltration, The Silent, The Song, and The Illusion will be exceedingly useful. We'll be able to mute an area, copy the voices of people, and make them see what's not there.
If we want personal combat prowess then what we need is The Fight, The Power, and The Sword. The Fight is basically Uber, a combat engine designed to know all forms of martial arts. The Power would allow us to lift a truck over our heads and throw it as if it was a tennis ball, and The Sword would improve the Psy Blade, allowing it to cut through exotic effects.
If, on the other hand, we want blaster powers then we're also covered with the Elemental Cards. I'm tempted to build The Earthy for its ability to control the element of earth, something that would greatly enhance my drones' digging power.
And then there's The Shield, The Mirror, The Lock-
Everything is so useful!
"Drawing sexy women in class?" With a swipe of her hand, Aisha steals one of my pages, the one where I have The Dark. "A bit too clothed for my taste."
She better not stain it with her greasy fingers. "If you want nudes you'll have to pay."
"Ha! I don't have money for new socks, much less for porn." She puts it down, her eyes finding a new source of entertainment. "Hey, I didn't notice you had a brand new backpack!" She lifts her foot and brings it down on my scarab, leaving an ugly shoe-mark on the black fabric.
Oh boy, does this remind me of my previous run through high school.
"Was that necessary?" I give her the flattest look I can muster.
"Of course! It's like pulling the film out of a new cell phone!"
"Whatever you say." I wave my hand in dismissal. It's not like it'll cost me much to wash it, I just need to give the order and the Scarab will do that on its own. And thinking about it, Aisha might help Taylor and me with our conundrum. "Say, if someone wanted to abandon their school and not have the faculty call their parents, what would they have to do?"
"Keep missing school until they get tired of calling your family and they just give up! At least that's what worked for me in Winslow. If you figure out how to make that work here, let me know."
Well, so much for that idea. "I'll keep you informed."
As if smelling that we're talking about something illegal, Missy walks into our classroom.
"Peter. Aisha." Her eyebrows knit into a frown as she looks over my drawings.
Aisha picks The Watery and offers it to Missy, "Do you want a topless mermaid?"
"Hey!" I donotlike when people touch my things without my permission. Thankfully Missy doesn't accept the drawing and pushes it away.
"No, thank you. I'm here to talk to you, Aisha." She is? Now that's different.
"Of course you are. You're boring like that, miss cop."
The Ward pinches the bridge of her nose. "Look, I'm trying to be nice here."
"So am I! And I'm failing!" And to accentuate her point, Aisha puts her feet on the desk.
Oh, boy, I can almost see the throbbing vein on Missy's forehead.
"Maybe you should hear what she has to say first?" I offer an olive branch.
"Fine, fine. Speak up, miss cop."
Missy clears her throat, going into what I have come to recognize as her 'professional' persona. "I want to know how things are in your neighborhood. With the gangs getting more active it can't be safe."
"It never was safe and it never will be." Aisha shrugs. "But we're tough bitches. We'll survive."
"Still, if you need help tell me because the gangs are a threat to all of us."
And like that, Aisha's ever-present smile is gone. "Oh, please," She says as she puts her feet back on the floor. "What can a pretty white girl like you fear? Eidolon himself will descend from the sky if someone as much as looks ugly at you."
She shouldn't have said that. Not to Missy.
"You don't know me." There's an edge of menace in Missy's tone.
"What's there to know? You'll never see a gang member in person. You're nothing but a spoiled rich brat whose main concern is where mommy and daddy will take her for the holidays."
It's like watching a trainwreck in the making. I should be backing away but I'm too terrified to move.
"This is what I get for trying to be nice to you." Thankfully Missy decides to de-escalate the situation and walks away, leaving me sweating profusely.
Well-
That was a mess. And I refuse to believe that Aisha didn't know what she was doing because there's no way for her to have pressed every-single-one of Missy's buttons by accident!
"You know that Missy isn't like that, right?"
"Of course I do." Of course she bloody does! "Did you know that she has a knife scar on the side of her chest? You can barely see it, but it's there." I wonder how she knows what a knife scar looks like, but I might not want the answer. "And I'm sure that she'd kick my ass in a straight fight. Not like I'd give her one."
"Then why antagonize her?"
"Because seeing her throw a fit is hilarious!" She laughs. "And, look, this entire shit pisses me off. I grew up with the gangs. They were always a problem for my family, and the PRT did nothing. It's only when they become a problem for the rest of the city that they start caring about us. Only then they remember that, yes, Lung kidnaps girls like me for his whorehouses, and that Kaiser hunts us for sport. But what can you do?"
The tip of my pencil snaps as I press it against the desk. "Kill them."
"Ha! See? That's why we're friends." She passes me a sharpener and soon the bell rings.
Returning to our old routine, I arrive home way before Taylor does. First I fill Long John's bowl, and then I ready my equipment to start working on the cards tomorrow at the earliest. Lastly, I check on the progress of my drones. Another half a dozen have been built, and the second construction zone has almost been depleted of useful material. The exploration tunnels I ordered have expanded, and at the end of the next week, my drones should be reaching the docks, giving me access to abandoned containers, and then the graveyard.
Soon I'll have access to that treasure trove of materials!
Sadly the units I sent Downtown haven't been lucky finding Coil's base. Not like I can blame them, it is a big area to cover after all.
A dilemma now is what direction to take the hive in: should I keep the focus on economy, or should I start building some military units? I could build some Zerglings now, useful against any normal human, but not so much against capes. I need Hydralisks for that. The problem then is that I can't build those without a Hydralisk Den, and that will be costly.
I'll need more drones, and more construction sites to farm.
I order the excavation of some exploratory tunnels to the north and then go to Taylor's room.
Ugh. Her closet's a tragedy, but one that's perfectly salvageable. Recycling several of Annette's old dresses, I put my scarab to start sewing new clothes. Soon she'll have a different dress for each day of the week!
That's enough clothes to satisfy a girl, right?
I'm almost done remodeling her wardrobe when she arrives.
"Welcome home, Taylor! How was your day?" I greet her.
"It was fine." She mumbles, sounding more tired than she looks. "It was just fine."
"You don't sound very convinced."
She puts her backpack on the table and then lets herself fall on the sofa. "I don't know." She grumps. "The teacher picked me to answer the questions."
That sounds- normal? "Did you know the answers?"
"I did," Ok, that's good, "Same ones from the entrance exam. She must have been checking if I hadn't cheated. They did the same back in Winslow whenever I got a high mark."
As if Taylor would cheat! I did offer but she refused.
Thinking about it, good thing that she's as stubborn as a mule about that.
"The food was good at least. Better than Winslow." She continues, "The door to the roof was locked but I managed to take my lunch at the library. They have a section there for people who want to study during their lunch break. That was nice. The library girl was nice to me too."
"Were Emma and Sophia there?"
"They were, but they didn't talk to me. Sophia acted as if she didn't even know me, so that's something."
Sophia must be worried of Taylor talking, or Emma dragging her into an attack against Taylor and having all their lies uncovered. For much of how Sophia likes to talk big, she's a coward at heart.
"And Emma?"
"Oh, she looked furious," Taylor says with a slight smile of satisfaction. "But also avoided me. I'm fine with that."
It sounds like she had a normal day, but she doesn't sound happy about that. "Do you want to keep going?"
"Well, first day at Arcadia and no one threw anything at me. Or tried to trip me. Not like they could because I had my bugs checking everyone around me, but I think that I'll be staying for now." She puts the dog down and then gives me a very serious look. "So, have you thought about what to do about Rochester?"
Oh, of course.
"I did." I nod. "And I have several ideas."
"Let's hear them."
I search from my backpack and pull out my drawings. The first one I show Taylor is that of a long-haired girl holding a mirror. "Idea one: I make a clone of you, and send them to Rochester in your place." The Mirror can take the form of any person. She doesn't get their memories or their powers in the case of parahumans, but that's something we can work around.
Sadly Taylor doesn't look as excited as I am. "What?! I told you- Don't you have something, I don't know, less weird?" She rubs her forehead as if massaging a headache.
I don't know what's so weird about it but I wouldn't mind doing something less expensive too. I need to work on more attack and defense options. "Okay, okay. I guess that cloning Danny is out of the question too," The next drawing is that of a girl in a dress that resembles a harp, with a headdress in the shape of a treble clef, "So what about mimicking his voice and calling Rochester telling them that the deal's off?"
"That the deal's off? Why do you have to make it sound so criminal? And won't dad have to go in person at some point?"
"Oh, I already have that covered." The Illusion isn't humanoid. Instead, it resembles a kaleidoscope. "I can use a holographic disguise to look like your dad, and together we go to have this sorted out."
"What if someone tries to shake your hand?"
"I tell them that I'm a germaphobe."
I can hear Taylor's heavy breathing as she sets both drawings aside. "Let's put that in the 'maybe' pile. What else?"
"Well-" What else do I have here? Ah, yes, The Dream: a woman with a massive hat that obscures her eyes. "I don't think you'd want us to go into Danny's dreams to implant a subconscious command to make him forget about this whole ordeal, would you?" If looks could kill, the one Taylor's throwing at me right now would have left nothing but a crater where I stand. "Yeah, I have nothing. My only remaining option is hiding underneath a desk and waiting for everything to fix itself."
Taylor sighs. "Let's go visit some hospitals. I want some fresh air, and maybe the exercise will help us think of a better solution."
"Sounds good to me. I can always feed my drones more data on human biology." I whistle and my backpack transforms into my scarab, a twin of Taylor's own, only differentiated by the fact that it's black instead of red. I put it over my head and it unfolds into my helmet: one that resembles a gas mask with its wide porthole-like lenses. And now it's time to say something that I always wanted to say, "It's morphin time."
My civilian clothes disappear and are replaced by my costume, one that makes me look like a Skitarii ranger with its hood and wide sleeves. My clothes are pitch black, and while I designed Taylor's costume to carry her implants underneath her clothes, mine are on the outside, connecting to my skin through several openings in the robe. With my implants painted red, I share Taylor's color scheme, mirroring the robes of a Machine Priest of Stygies VIII instead of one from Mars. Thematically appropriate, considering their obsession with xenotech.
"So, what do you think?" I ask her, striking a pose with my hands at my waist.
"It suits you. It's definitely very 'you'."
Taylor changes into her own costume and we depart into the city.
"Is it just me, or was that too easy?" Taylor says as we hop from roof to roof, on our way back home after a productive afternoon. I know we shouldn't expect to face any major problem every time we step outside the house but, as I look at the moon high in the night sky, I find myself agreeing with her.
We focused on the critical cases: pneumonia, heart problems, and infection, leaving the rest to heal by natural means. In total, we visited some thirty people across half a dozen hospitals and clinics. There were some PRT officers keeping an eye outside the patients' rooms, but it wasn't like they could stop us. We just teleported in and did our thing. We did see Glory Girl patrolling around one of the hospitals but it was because Panacea was working in it.
It was a very good day!
And yet it feels like the calm before the storm.
Even when they aren't doing anything criminal, it's normal to see people dressed in gang paraphernalia, but today we didn't see even one person with a swastika. The streets are calm. Unnaturally so. The silence is only broken by the PRT cars and motorbikes keeping the peace, followed by the odd hero.
The gangs must be keeping their head down, gearing up for something big.
Taylor stops me the moment that home is at range. The reason for that becomes obvious the moment I look at it with my visor: Danny's in the living room, seated on a couch. That shouldn't be anything weird, but normally he's with his nose buried in a mountain of papers. This time he's seated next to the door, glancing at it as if he was waiting for us.
Well, let's stop thinking about the problems of the city and focus on our own personal ones.
"Too late to send in the clones?" Taylor asks with a dash of fatalistic humor in her words.
We find an alley to change into our civilian clothes and make the rest of the way on foot.
What could this be?
Did Danny find out we're capes?
Did he find my hatchery?
Did he find Long John?
I'm not particularly fond of any of those options. I take Taylor's hand for courage, and together we get ready for whatever it is that fate has in store for us.
"Dad, we're ba-" Taylor calls as we enter, but gets interrupted when the man in question rushes to her and locks her in a hug.
Okay, the good news is that Danny doesn't look angry. The bad news is that I'm just as confused as before.
"Taylor! Why didn't you tell me?"
"T-tell you what, dad?" Taylor stutters, as confused as I am with the unexpected outburst.
"That you had taken Arcadia's entrance exam!"
"Eh?"
Full of pride, Danny goes to the table where he has an opened envelope. He picks the letter up and shows it to us.
It reads:Miss Taylor Hebert, from Arcadia High we congratulate you for-'
Oh.
Ohhhhhh.
Taylor had remained after taking the exam waiting for the result, but apparently it's the faculty's policy to formally congratulate the students by sending letters to their families.
"Ah, yes, that." Taylor's cheeks turn a deep shade of red as she scratched the back of her head. "I wasn't sure if I'd pass, so I didn't want to give you false hope."
"False hopes? As if there could have been any doubts you'd ace the exams!" He laughs, shaking Taylor in his euphory. "But how did you get in? Those exams cost a small fortune."
"Peter helped me with that. With the entire Winslow mess, Arcadia opened its exams for more people. There was a vacancy and I took the chance."
"This we have to celebrate! And don't worry about Rochester, I already called them and told them you wouldn't be going." Seems that the problem fixed itself! Not like I hope for that to happen again. I slowly try to back away but Danny grabs me and forces me into the family hug. "And you too, young man. You're part of this family too."
I can't move. We have barely interacted. I know nothing of him.
I don't like this. My useless struggles against his adult strength must look like the petty tantrum of an embarrassed teenager.
But Taylor laughs.
And it's nice to see Danny and her behaving like a happy family again.
For her sake, I endure.
It's just a pity that this relationship has been built on a messy entanglement of lies, but what can you do about it?
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