I’d initially assumed that we were going to go to the Boardwalk, but in hindsight it made sense that a city as big as Brockton Bay would have more than one place you could go shopping. It was no Big Apple, but it was still silly to think that three-hundred-fifty-thousand people would all flock to one rather nice but ultimately not-that-big street when they needed a new pair of pants or something.

No, according to Crystal, the Boardwalk was mostly just a tourist trap. It had some nice restaurants and cafes, as well as some fancy boutiques that Vicky loved to browse, but outside of that it wasn’t really a good place to get clothing and stuff. Most of the shops sold stuff like themed t-shirts and other overpriced, low-quality junk.

Instead, we boarded the bus and headed downtown. I was a bit hesitant about that first part––I hadn’t really had good experiences with buses over the past few years. School buses were mostly fine, but ever since I'd gotten jumped by the Furies in one during my very first quest, I’d done my best to avoid depending on buses in general. Flimsy, confined spaces with few (intended) exits and lots of mist-blinded mortals around were not good places for demigods to hang around.

Thankfully the bus was both mostly empty and blessedly monster-free. There weren’t even any of the local mortal types of monsters. Crystal and I found a spot next to the emergency exit––just in case––and I spent the trip entertaining her with a lightly-edited retelling of my not-so-good past experiences with buses.

It was still painful to talk about Annabeth, but it was easier than I’d thought it would be. Definitely easier than it would have been a few days ago. I think it helped that I was talking about just how badass she’d been. Not many twelve-year-olds, even demigods, would be both willing and able to physically wrestle a Fury. The image of Annabeth hanging from around Mrs. Dodds neck like a some kind of novelty scarf while Grover tied her up with her own whip was one that I doubted I’d ever forget.

We made it to Hillside Mall without any trouble. It was about a twenty minute trip by bus, but Crystal’s company made that time fly by. She was very easy to talk to. Normally I never knew what to say when I was talking with mortals––I couldn’t exactly bring up Camp, or demigod business, or what I’d spent most of my time doing these past couple of years, but it was a lot easier without the Mist getting in the way and Crystal’s own experience. She’d seen some weird stuff in Brockton Bay over the years. Not demigod weird, but close enough that she understood.

Sure I had to change a word here or there, but I was starting to get used to doing that. I think Crystal probably noticed that I wasn’t saying everything, but she didn’t pry. I guess the whole secret identity business was good for something. It probably wasn’t unusual for capes to gloss over certain important details when they were talking about their lives.

Hillside Mall was, well. A mall. I wasn’t exactly a particularly popular teenager, but I was still a teenager! I’ve been to my fair share of malls over the years. Mostly with my mom, I guess, but sometimes on my own or with my classmates!

It was a big, blocky building on the opposite side of downtown from the PRT building, not far from where Crystal had gone to school. It had two levels, a big round food court in the middle, a huge department store at both ends of the building, and a whole bunch of different little shops and outlets along the walls.

The place was pretty empty when we got there, but apparently it tended to fill up around four when Arcadia High and the other schools in the area let out for the day and people started to get off of work. Crystal pointed out the big candy store near the entrance that she used to frequent with her friends, as well as a few other shops she liked.

We stopped at the center of the wide hall that cut through the mall. I looked one way, squinting at the huge, blocky sign at the end of the hall, then the other way, and finally turned to Crystal. “So, uh…” I’d never really had to buy myself a new wardrobe before. Especially not at like, an actual mall.

Crystal looked around, looking slightly lost herself, then straightened her back and squared her shoulders. “I guess we should start at KCDimes for the essentials, and then we can move onto filling things out at some of the other stores?” She started off strong, but by the end her voice became hesitant, turning her words into more of a question than a statement. “Sorry, I, uh, usually go shopping with Vicky. She’s the one that’s––”

I cut her off, flashing her a big smile and a thumbs up. “That sounds good to me!” It seemed like a reasonable plan, at least. “It's not like we can’t always come back later if we miss something.”

Crystal smiled back at me, looking a bit more confident than she had a moment earlier. “Right. Plus it's probably better not to spend all the money right away. At least not until you get everything sorted with Aunty and uh,” she looked around, glancing at the handful of people walking through the mall around us. “...them,” she finished lamely.

Oh right. Normal people didn’t get money from the government like I was. “I don’t really think that will be a problem. It's just clothing.” I’d briefly flipped through the papers Carol had left for me and Crystal had helped me read through the rest. The sort of small black print the PRT used on all its documents was killer for my dyslexia. The words just floated right up off the page and got all tangled together like seaweed.

I honestly wasn’t sure how to judge how much money the PRT was giving me. Stuff didn’t cost quite the same around here as it had back home, and I’d never really had to live off my own income before. By the time I was old enough to start really trying to figure all that stuff out, I had dad’s Poseidoncard in my pocket and I had much bigger things on my mind.

It felt like a lot of money, though apparently inflation had been a lot worse around here than it had been back home. Carol’s notes mentioned trying to get even more out of the PRT, but that hadn’t gone anywhere. She did note that she might be able to make the number go up in the next few months, though that might not be as relevant if she managed to figure out the whole salvaging shipwrecks thing.

Still, according to Carol and Crystal, it was enough to live on, especially if I didn’t need to pay Carol out of it, and since my housing was otherwise taken care of. And like, no matter how much more expensive a loaf of bread was here then back home, I was just buying some new clothing. How expensive could that really be?

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Crystal stared at me for a long moment, then burst out laughing. “One thing I’ve learned from shopping with Vicky,” she told me between peels of laughter, “is that you can spend any amount of money when you’re trying to buy clothing. It’s worse for girls, but men’s clothes can be pretty expensive.”

I looked at her doubtfully, but there was a shred of doubt in my own mind as well. The wallet in my pocket suddenly felt very light, even though it was mostly full of cards, not cash. “I mean, I just need some basics, right?” I hedged.

Crystal finally managed to get her laughter under control and gave me a speculative look. “Hmm. Something like that.”

I felt a cold shiver run down my spine, that same sort of ill feeling that came from shadow travel or suddenly running into a Titan. I swallowed heavily. Those jokes about going shopping with girls were just jokes, right? Right? I’d bought stuff with Annabeth a few times, and it had always been perfectly fine.

Then again, I’d also heard plenty of stories from the boys and girls in the Aphrodite cabin. There were always a lot of campers in that cabin––Aphrodite had a lot of kids and actually bothered to claim them most of the time––and they loved to talk.

“Let's go.” Crystal grabbed my hand and began pulling me down the way-to-white hall towards the black sign in the distance. What could I really do but let myself get dragged along?

The meeting room was silent. Though the footage that they’d been watching had come to an end nearly a minute earlier, no one seemed quite willing to be the first to speak up.

Shawn’s mouth was uncomfortably dry and he couldn’t quite stop himself from bouncing his fingers up and down on one of the armored pieces that covered his thigh. The piece had received only a scant handful of crystallizations, just like most of the rest of his armor. Only his breastplate had gotten a reasonable amount of his attention, and he’d definitely been neglecting it as well.

It just always felt like a waste. He’d always felt that it was better to not get hit in the first place. He had his helmet to help him avoid getting hit, his boots to get him out of harm’s way, and his arclance to put the other guy down before they could get too close. If he really needed to take a hit, that was what the shield was for.

He could feel the day’s power welling up inside him, slowly getting close to the point where he could channel it into another boost. Another hour, maybe two. Just in time for his afternoon patrol.

Maybe today he’d put it into his breastplate again. Or one of the other pieces of his armor. Image had been subtly poking him to get another part of his kit to the point where it gained his distinctive look, and his breastplate was his best bet for that. Sure his helmet held more days worth of power than any other part of his kit, but he liked to keep that a secret from the public. From experience, it would probably only take a week or two to push the breastplate to the next level.

But would that matter? Everyone expected that he’d someday be on the same level as the Triumvirate. He was Brockton Bay’s rising star, a real ‘hometown hero’ according to all the magazines. But how long was that going to take? How long before he could reasonably stand up to that?

Riptide had cut through a half-dozen veteran capes and a number of armed gangbangers in a matter of seconds. He’d tangled with most of the villains in question at least once since he’d joined the Protectorate, and none of them were pushovers. Riptide had made it look easy, with plenty of time to crack jokes between cracking skulls.

His arclance certainly wouldn’t do the job. Judging from how easily it shrugged off those bullets and Kaiser’s blades, his best weapon wouldn’t so much as scratch Riptide’s armor, much less hurt the apparently invincible cape. Not unless it had a very favorable interaction with the tinkertech, and he really couldn’t count on that.

Then there was Riptide’s sword, brute rating, and hydrokinesis. If he turtled up behind his shield, he’d probably be fine for a little while, but the barrier he could summon with it wasn’t infallible. Miss Militia could take it down with sustained fire and he’d taken enough science classes to know just how much kinetic energy a big wave could carry.

No, if it came down to a fight, his best bet was to fly away and hope to get out of Riptide’s range. The protection his breastplate and helmet provided him with was pretty good, but it wouldn’t save him from drowning if Riptide decided to force a few gallons of water down his throat. Shawn shuddered slightly at the idea. He’d gotten to the PRT building in time to help Assault and the PRT troopers deal with Fenja and Menja and there was something chilling about seeing the twin Valkyries helplessly cocooned in their watery prisons.

Well, at least he was a hero. That was something. Hopefully he stayed that way, and the PRT didn’t screw things up with a hard sell. They probably wouldn’t, but you never knew for certain. Director Piggot was pretty reasonable in his experience––they weren’t close, but he respected the severe woman––but she wasn’t the only senior official in the organization.

There was a loud thump and Shawn nearly jumped out of his seat, his boots sparking beneath the table. He recovered quickly, his helmet smoothly helping him realize that it was just Deputy Director Renick’s arm.

“Well,” the man said softly, unfazed by the dozen sets of eyes that had just turned towards him, “I guess you were right after all, Director. I thought it was just hyperbole, but he really is like a mini-leviathan.”

A number of people looked rather unhappy with that particular comparison. Bringing up an Endbringer like that was in rather bad taste, no matter how apt the comparison really was. Shawn had so far avoided attending any Endbringer battles––the higher ups didn’t want to risk him, and he didn’t want to risk it either––but he’d heard the horror stories.

Armsmaster, as serious as ever, frowned as he considered something on his helmet’s display. “Not near as fast, nor as strong, but it is not a wholly inaccurate comparison.”

The director looked like she’d bitten into a lemon. “Thank you Renick, Armsmaster.” She turned towards where several of the non-cape members of the meeting were sitting. “So, does anyone else have something they’d like to say about how I’ve been dealing with the Case-22 situation?” she asked pointedly.

No one said anything. Not even Commander Calvert, who’d been rather outspoken with his opinions about the newest cape in Brockton Bay. Shawn could somewhat see where the man was coming from––it was rather disquieting to have another powerful cape in the city, one with fewer ties to ground his behavior than even Lung––but at least he’d seemed wholly heroic so far.

Sure he’d prefer that Riptide join the Protectorate, but he was honestly fine with the man staying independent as well. Especially if he was as receptive to emergency calls for assistance in the future as he had been the previous day. As the local Protectorate’s sole flier, Shawn had worked closely with New Wave and didn’t have any problems collaborating with unaffiliated heroes. Lady Photon, Laserdream, and Shielder were all competent, reasonable heroes, and he’d heard good things about Glory Girl and the other members.

“Good,” Piggot said flatly. “Then we should move on. Riptide did us a huge favor, but this is just the start of the shitstorm. Without most of their capes, the Empire is all but done with, and there’s going to be a huge power vacuum that we’re going to have to deal with.” She leaned forward, bracing herself on her elbows. “It’s going to be a busy couple of months, but let’s make the best of it. Commander Jenkins, your report on the sweep up of Empire assets?”