Two weeks came and went. I spent most of them in my office, preparing.

I tried telling myself it was out of preparation, concern or simply just intelligence. The truth?

I was scared.

Our scans and final armour templates were done. The children were out of harm's way, and their families were endlessly grateful for it. Unfortunately, marshalling my Heroes for another sweeping operation so soon after Guadalupe was plunging morale. They knew it was in service of civilians, but they were tired. Their families were anxious.

Everyone wanted this over.

And just like that, the day arrived.

I leaned away from my screen and rolled my shoulder blades. The office, as usual, was quiet. I could almost hear my heartbeat rebounding off the walls. My choice of clothing didn't help either, as the exoskeletal spine reinforcing my combat suit had long since become an irritant, especially since it wasn't just limited to the column, but several pinpoints along my back.

Every kid wants a power suit until said kid has to wear the power suit.

"Everything's ready."

Angela strode into my office, sporting battle threads of her own. They hugged her body like a catsuit, a necessary feature for phasing. Her hair was braided up and away from her eyes, which she'd slashed with colour. My gaze trailed lower and snagged onto the flair of her hips. I moved on quickly, but this was Angela. She made hawks look blind.

She did a semi twirl. "You like?"

I nodded to the tablet in her hands. "Depends. What's that?"

She scowled. "If killing joy was a punishable offence, you'd be the greatest terrorist in human history."

"Mhm."

She held up the screen to show a completed checklist. "Convoy's ready. Rogues are shackled and on ground level. Troops are on standby, too. We move on your say-so."

"Alright. Good." I paused. "Thank you, Angela."

"You say that a lot, but–"

I stood and grabbed her elbow. She jumped with uncharacteristic surprise.

"I'm serious. I wouldn't be here without you. I owe... a lot. Too much, if I'm being honest. So thank you."

Angela narrowed her eyes. "Why are you saying it like that?"

"Because it's true."

"No. The tone." Her hand rose to squeeze my shoulder. We both pretended it wasn't shaking. "You'll be fine. So will I." She smiled softly. "This is your plan, remember? You're good at those."

"Just... be careful. No guarantees. Ever." I swallowed, extremely nervous. "We know they're coming. Just... stay alive. I need you."

She cupped my cheek. "I know. Seriously. If you saw your weekly unfiltered meeting requests, you'd die of a heart attack. On the spot."

I nodded. "Probably."

After momentary hesitation, she reached up and hugged me. There wasn't any super strength involved, but her arms locked tightly around my neck. I linked mine around her back and quietly drowned in the soft, flowery scent of her shampoo.

It took a minute for her to reluctantly let me go. My hands remained at her sides because I wasn't quite ready to step out of the office.

Fear was a funny, funny thing.

"Hey," she assured me, patting my chest. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." My reply was immediate.

"Then trust yourself, because I trust you. This'll work."

"Of course." I let her go and stepped back. "Thanks."

She nodded. "I'll be at the elevator. Don't be long."

She closed the door behind her, which I stared at for a few more seconds before sighing.

"Had your fill?"

Blacklight stepped out of my bookshelf's shadow. "How have both you and Red figured me out?"

"It's a two-step process," I explained. "Having working eyes, then using them."

His eyes slanted. "Mhm. Think the Rogues will solve me?"

"Nah. Knowing you're there and predicting attacks are two different things. Because I see a gun doesn't mean I can catch the bullet."

He scoffed. "I can."

I looked at him. He smirked back before realizing what was about to happen and scowled.

"You good?"

"Yes." I flipped my monitor and punched out a few final orders.

One of his mask eyes arched. "Very convincing."

"The plan has no reason to fall through."

"Exactly." He crossed his arms. "Why don't you believe that?"

I shut the computer off and faced him. "I do."

"The squirt is fine, and your Da only hates you a little now. Hell, you even sorted Crimson. Once we wrap things at Syracuse, all will be well."

We stepped out of my office and hurried for the door. "I'm aware."

"Are you, though?"

Angela turned to spot us as we approached the elevator and frowned with confusion. "When did you get here?"

Blacklight puffed out his chest. "I'm a man of many–"

"On second thought, I don't care." She pressed the button. "Good to go?"

"Should be," I confirmed. We stepped inside and rode it down to ground level.

The island was empty. I'd sent everyone a memo a few days prior that we would be transporting dangerous criminals, and all non-essential personnel should be off the Sheath by noon. It was now three, and aside from Heroes and our blank soldiers, our base was a ghost town.

At times like this, automation was a lifesaver.

Angela, Blacklight and I stepped through the vacated lobby and pushed through the tower's front doors.

Below, our legion awaited.

The Chaos Committee, Silver Shade, Mammoth, Cher Fer, King Cryo, Eye-Lie, Black Dwarf, Roach, X, Valkyrie, the Nordic, West Wizard, Ironer, Regal and Vest all stood amidst a crowd of over a hundred SWORD-exclusive marines, armed with automatic rifles, side arms and various Alpha suppressants. They wouldn't do much good against a Bishop plus physiology, but my men clung to them as a lifeline regardless.

Given the stakes, I wasn't surprised.

Behind them were three Hunter APCs. Their doors were open, displaying the sedated Rogues restrained within. Two Walmart semi-trucks towing bulky trailers were parked further down the street, modified by SWORD engineers to suit our purposes.

Chatter tapered off as I stepped outside, perched atop the tower steps. SWORD turned to face me, and there I beheld an assortment of expressions.

Some contained fear. Others, confidence.

All were determined.

We were ready.

"Our enemy," I began, putting on my best inspirational speech voice, "calls themselves 'the Family'. They profess unity, cohesion and collective vision to be their strengths. That is a lie. Can you name a single Breaker? The names of the Rogues they courageously hurled at us like road spikes to slow what was always going to be an inevitable defeat?"

No one spoke. It was a rhetorical question, but I was happy my backup answer would remain a backup.

"We remember names. We remember our sacrificed. We commit them to memory, because they gave what can never be repaid to see innocents protected. Lavan Strickland. Ivana Collins. Anastasia Jackson. Andre Farmer." I paused, glancing at the Chaos Committee as gasps ran through the crowd. "Mitchell Shaefer."

Names were tricky. My family, being the absurd, partially workaholic powerhouses they were, hadn't bothered creating secret identities. Someone like Blacklight, on the other hand, elected to keep his private life separate due to an incredibly profitable acting career. Similarly, any Heroes who decided to keep their SWORD and civilian careers apart would be registered in a different program from public Heroes. Though there were inevitably a few here and there within the SWORD community who, through friendship, gossip, or just bad luck would discover private names, they were rarely disclosed to the public, even in death.

Announcing them this brazenly was very taboo, but at this point, everything was a gamble.

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"We knew them as Dreads, Hedge, Slick, Bejewelled and Green. We lost Firefly, Lifeline and Masochist in LA. They even went after our children! We will lose more, whether in coming hours, months or years. But we will never forget." I pointed to the memorial stone lodged in the centre of the main road's roundabout. "Their names are engraved in plain sight so that we all remember the cost. Every. Single. Day."

SWORD turned to face the pillar, then back at me.

"The Family will come. We will battle, and we will win. And once everything is said and done, the world will be a safer, brighter place because of us. Because of you. Because of what will be done today."

They roared. The smell of fear hadn't fully dissolved, but righteous resolution was quickly overpowering it. Few things could boost morale better than good ol' fashion revenge.

We were ready.

"Now let's go get these motherfuckers."

SWORD split into two assigned groups. Angela hopped into one of the vans with Silver Shade, West Wizard and Regal, though not before offering me a last reassuring nod. I returned it, very happy she was seventy feet too far for me to do something stupid.

As the last of the soldiers filed into their transports, Lucas came up on my right.

"View Room is ready, sir." He shuffled nervously. "We're waiting for you upstairs."

"Good." I sighed wearily. "Ready to end this thing?"

"Fuck yeah."

I smirked and fell in behind him as we stepped back inside.

----------------------------------------

For the first time in a while, Elise considered praying. Only a real god could keep this nonsense from imploding around her ears. There were just too many variables and moving parts to consider, and shouldering the stress was driving her insane.

It hurt to admit, but she was tired of relying on herself.

This time, they'd chauffeured her out to a mansion and said nothing else. She knew only that it was in New Jersey, the house belonged to a wealthy benefactor of the Family and that she shouldn't ask questions. At least, according to Proto-Knight. Those were the first and last words he'd said before slipping into the driver's seat and reverting to his natural mute state.

That, in of itself, was the first red flag. Proto-Knight was supposed to be one of Mother's guards. Though Elise supposed her children were now healed and capable of offering her more than enough protection, Proto-Knight had never left her side. Something drastic must've thrown them off.

And as he led her through the winding corridors of the strange manor, her instincts proved correct.

Mother and her Quadruplets, well, now Triplets, were gathered in the manor's basement, overseeing the division and allocation of supplies. Or rather, Tacti was, as the rest of his family sat near a corner, discussing in hushed tones with a few other Rogues.

Proto-Knight ushered her forward, where attention slowly fell on them.

"Welcome, Theo," Mother greeted, addressing Proto-Knight. "Thank you for bringing her."

He nodded and stepped aside. To date, Elise hadn't seen him express a single emotion outside mild disinterest. Half the time, she could barely tell if he was breathing.

"Why did you wait so long to contact me?" she demanded. "The ambush happens in, what, four hours? That's barely enough time to adapt to my intel!"

Mother narrowed her eyes. "Peace, dear. We've all been busy. Like I said, this is a critical juncture."

"Exactly," hissed Elise. "Which is why it would've served you well to at least look at what I explicitly stated was critical data linked to our operation!"

"And why should we believe you?" chuckled Magne. "The last time we did, our missile depot turned into a crater."

"Right, because things tend to go so well when you don't. How's Ergo?"

Oxygen thinned around them. "You don't need a tongue to work for us. I'd be careful what you do with it."

"Yes, because you're a pussy," she spat. "I, on the other hand, am a pragmatist. And I'd rather not dive headfirst into what most surely will be an ambush without reliable intelligence."

"And what," asked Mother, stepping forward to shoo Magne off, "intel would that be?"

"Can I get a tablet?"

Mother eyed her curiously before motioning to one of her Breakers. A few moments later, Elise was navigating her cloud. She kept everything in plain sight to limit suspicion.

"I know you don't trust me," she told them, "which is why I won't say anything. This is what Bernard told myself, Matthius and Jason."

The group went quiet and listened to Bernard breeze through the broad strokes of his master plan. Elise studiously watched their faces all the way up until its conclusion. When it did, no one spoke. She could taste the tension. Titan, near the back of the group, regarded the tablet with a slight frown. Ivory and Blood Rain smirked strangely. Others like Dead Cell, Death Surgeon and Opake didn't emote at all, busy with their own preparations.

Eventually, Mother spoke. "Thank you."

Elise cocked her head with a worried frown. "Why did you say it like that?"

"We had suspicions," Mother explained, looking at Magne, who seemed torn between satisfaction and frustration, if there was such a state. "But it seems you truly are on our side."

"Then why is he smiling?" she asked warily, stabbing a thumb at Blood Rain.

Mother again paused before speaking. "We've received... a contrasting report."

"Then it's wrong," growled Elise. "I'm telling you, he said all of this in front of me."

"Yes," snickered Magne. "He did."

Elise glared furiously. "Is there a point you wish to make, Magne? I suggest you speak up. It'd be a shame if I beat your skull in over a misunderstanding."

This time, the air thickened and pressed in on her. "Speak to me like that ever again, and I will kill you. No matter what excuses Mother tries raising in your defence."

Mother sighed. "Elise, I do not mean this as a slight. But it appears Bernard no longer trusts you."

"Bullshit!" she snapped, plasma igniting in her eyes. "I was perfect. He doesn't suspect shit."

"On the contrary," boomed Tacti, sauntering over. "You've been made. How and why is irrelevant." He picked up the tablet and switched over to an encrypted folder.

"We got this earlier today," he reported. Elise perused the file, browsing through map routes, names and battle contingencies.

"You're free to read once we hit the water, but the gist is he believes he's fed us false intel. The true plan is actually to send nothing to Jersey and have our captured men flown off at Syracuse. A controllable environment with little to no civilian presence. Social media won't help us, since there are no non-Sword personnel on site."

Elise felt the back of her neck grow slick with sweat. Easy now. Nice and easy. Do not get killed. "And Lydia?"

"She never leaves," chuckled Magne. "She remains in the SWORD Vault the entire time, peachy as a pear. It's ingenious, really. If it weren't for our moles, we'd have been frantically trying to divide our forces while our quarry remains oblivious, safely concealed in the bosom of their fortress."

Elise looked down at the tablet, disbelief in her eyes. "He used me."

"I'll say," agreed Tacti, patting her shoulder with a good-natured chuckle. "That boy is slippery, I'll give him that. And he would've succeeded, had we not planned ahead."

"Who knew? The shitty superhero can't act for shit," scoffed Magne.

She shook her head. "Be that as it may, how the fuck do you plan on getting in? There are hundreds of defences, most of which none of you even know exist. You could hypothetically fight, but the burnt clock would give them the window they need to get her to safety."

"Like Tacti said," Mother assured her. "We planned ahead. We have someone inside who'll give us what we need."

It was then that Elise registered Mother's dark, Woven outfit.

"What is that for?" she asked.

Mother glanced down and rolled her shoulders with a sheepish grin. "You like? One of Livingston's final designs. Specially made for me, apparently." She sighed sadly. "He was a real sweetheart. His death was terribly sad."

"The death you ordered?" Elise commented with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes." Mother frowned. "Why?"

"No reason." She turned back to the tablet and stack of equipment. "The only question I have, then, is what you'll be doing, and where I fit in?"

"That's two," corrected Tacti. "You and Mother will join us at the Sheath. You are familiar with the layout, and she wishes to be there to help us defend Evo."

Elise stared at Mother. "Come again?"

"There was... an uprising," she explained. For the first time, Elise heard tangible fury in her voice. "They accused me of weakness. Said I haven't been upholding the standards I set. That while my sons ship out for war, I stay warm and safe indoors. They even attempted..."

She trailed off, and from the smoking energy in her fists, Elise figured the troublemakers had been emphatically handled. Speaking of, since when could she do that? Elise didn't know the full range of Mother's abilities, but as an ergokinetic, she should've detected energy powers long ago.

Now, the woman was positively brimming with them.

"Ah. So you're pointlessly risking your life to... what? Show up the haters?"

"To inspire my troops," snapped Mother, eyes flashing with bronze energy. "And to finish what must end." She motioned to Elise's overcoat. "What's wrong with that? I can see armour through your jacket. Now, you may not even need it."

"You don't win gunfights in a skirt." Elise frowned. "Anything could happen, and like you said, I'm dedicated."

"Truly dedicated?" asked Mother, stepping forward to caress her cheek. "Because today, you must help us do the one thing no one ever should."

Elise raised her eyebrow. "That being?"

"Killing their child." Mother patted Elise's shoulder. "Bernard Skies dies today, and if necessary, delivering the final blow may fall to you."

"Don't take it personally," a voice said from behind. "It's for the greater good."

The group turned to face the newcomer, who, unlike them, sported a beige, tailored three-piece suit. His dress shoes clicked loudly against the marble, though at a languid pace so as not to spill his tea.

He, clearly, would not take part in the festivities.

Not that Elise was surprised. His specialty was in teaching, not combat.

"You're a long way from home. Second source?" she asked.

"Benefactor, too," he replied, sipping his drink.

She cocked her head. "How'd that happen?"

Syracuse Hero Academy Headmaster Reginald Gordon stirred his tea and shrugged. "I often tell my students to seize opportunity by the throat and never let go—not until the hand falls off." He chuckled wryly. "It's good advice."