＊＊＊

Max Anders hated these types of meetings. Disregarding the fact that all of them coming together in one location always left room for a potential decapitating attack, a meeting like this always signified that something was going wrong - to the extent that they all needed to come together and plan out their response.

Of course, it was Max planning out and directing the response, but part of being a good leader was ensuring that your subjects believed they had a hand on the steering wheel.

Hence such meetings.

At least he'd alleviated some of the concerns about the entire Empire 88 cape contingent coalescing together like this by decreeing it would only be done in their civilian personas at Medhall.

If the unwritten rules were discarded to the point they were still attacked - then at least Max could retaliate with the full force behind him.

It shouldn't come to that. Lung had gotten fat and lazy, content with his territory, growing fat on his hoard. And as most of Brockton Bay did, unknowingly… He still served the Empire in the end. Although Lung wasn't expanding at the moment, his mere presence and the openly despicable actions of his people - made the Empire seem a safe choice by comparison. Which neatly advanced Max's agenda without forcing him into unfortunate incidents.

As much as the rabble who fed at the bottom of the Empire's through wanted to be let loose on the minorities of the city. Max was happier to leave Lung and the ABB where they were, until all but Lungs territory belonged to the Empire - then he'd take the final slice, only then. The rampant racism in his subjects was useful to Max, even if it came with the facade he - by necessity - had to share in. Sometimes it could get frustratingly droll, but the power inherent in his position made up for it.

That said, there were only so much one could hear about niggers and chinks and slants and what have you, until it grew very tiring. Max was not a proponent of visible displays of racism, not in front of the general public, anyway. Winning the PR battle was after all how a Nazi organization was still able to thrive in an American city.

He looked out the almost indestructible tinkertech floor to ceiling windows that covered one entire wall of the top floor of Medhall, the pharmaceutical company that he ran and used as a cover for many of the Empire's dealings. Not everyone had arrived yet, so he was free to let his thoughts wander as he looked out over the profile of the city. His city. The coming utopia, once all his plans came to fruition.

The power he'd hold in his own two hands once he grasped it in its entirety…

His only real enemy was the PRT and Protectorate, and they fought with one hand tied behind their backs in a futile effort to not appear too threatening to the general masses. It truly said something of their effectiveness at truly making a difference - when the Empire 88 held more trust from many civilians in Brockton then the PRT did, at least in areas not overrun with filth and illegals.

Max kept his subjects safe, for a nominal fee of course, nothing worth anything in life came free. He kept their streets clean, their businesses prospering, their daughters safe. Why wouldn't the rest of Brockton follow, once the PRT inevitably messed something up again. Once his was the only gang left in the city, and he had the public's backing, a detente with the PRT wouldn't be too hard to achieve. Giving them the PR of a safe city - while letting Max control it from the shadows and rake in the profits. Eventually even filling the city's Protectorate team with like-minded individuals, ensuring his grasp of the city.

It shouldn't be too long until the other 'gangs' were no more than a footnote in the history of his rise. They truly couldn't stand against Kaiser.

The Merchants had barely been a blip on the radar, just recently cropping up, spreading their filth, and now just as quickly disappearing. With Skidmark now dead, they were even more of a non-entity than before. He frowned momentarily as his gaze went over the more dilapidated buildings in the distance, barely visible from the splendor of Medhall. It was regrettable, he thought, that Skidmark had been killed so easily. No one was quite as incredibly useful for Empire propaganda as that drugged out nigger. It made it easier to recruit the younger crowd when his people only had to point to the Merchants as an example of what was wrong with the city.

Frankly, just the appearance of Skidmark had many times been enough to start a conversation on the benefits of the Empire with previously unaffiliated people. The man had been that repulsive in deed, appearance and reputation.

He'd have to see if he could resurrect the Merchants under some other nigger, create the same conditions, it would be a nice income stream if the Empire could supply them with the drugs secretly, use them as a cat's paw, raking in money and supporters as more and more fell to the Merchant filth.

He'd have to think on it, his eyes swept the conference room, and not everyone here could be trusted on that operation. His eyes narrowed as he noticed only Hookwolf was missing now, exactly the person who'd throw a tantrum if the Empire was to begin supplying a resurgent Merchants. Stormtiger and Cricket would likely support him as well, he thought with distaste.

One day, he wouldn't have to worry about division in his own ranks… He returned to the sight of Brockton Bay, and to the thoughts on his rivals.

Coil was a rival in some way, a minor one perhaps, but he'd never seriously stepped up against Kaiser and the Empire. And he'd shown that he could be negotiated with. That in itself was a telling weakness. Coil did not think he could take the Empire, so he negotiated. Max would have no trouble sweeping him aside eventually. The man for some reason did not gather capes to his cause. Utter foolishness.

His mercenaries were, in a word, cute. A nuisance more than anything for all their skill. Only a threat because Max couldn't waste the time of his capes to root them out - without facing potential backlash from Lung waking up and smelling opportunity.

His features tightened briefly as his thoughts turned to New Wave, and their damned daughters, or one in particular... A minor miscalculation of his, trying to use Panacea's achievement as a recruitment tool, it had seemed such a simple thing, an easy PR opportunity, and Max did so like to poke at those New Wave fools that had failed to react to the loss of one of their own, forever proving their weakness. Yet it had backfired on Max, spectacularly so.

They had been made a mockery of when the deviant girl had dared to challenge them in public, in an international press conference, throwing Kaiser's words in his face.

It was aggravating, but Max knew the value of Panacea, and it was not worth going after the girl, not for an insult, as much as that rankled. Not when they were at most a few years away from complete dominion over Brockton Bay. He would have made the girl beg to be re-educated then, Justin or Brad would no doubt be delighted at the opportunity to show the girl what a man felt like.

Then, the news. Panacea had created a new independent team, going by the pretentious name of Starlight, and… Kayden had been there. With the gall to still call herself Purity. Like she hadn't been one of them, a villain, like she hadn't killed in the name of the Empire. Lying, on national TV, claiming she'd been mastered, ruining years of careful maneuvering and PR work from Max and his PR team. And he knew that deviant dyke had orchestrated it all, who else? Kayden didn't have the will, and it certainly wasn't the flying barbie doll that planned this reveal out.

Through his connections and money, the local news reported anything and everything slanted in a way beneficial to Max, and had done so for years. But this had involved the newly internationally famous Panacea, it was beyond his control. His connections could not smother or twist this story.

He had no control over the news that spread like wildfire, painting the Empire 88 as kidnappers and rapists at the minimum, all the kind of things that Max had worked so hard to disassociate their people from in the mindset of the populace. Empire 88 might be a gang, but it was the 'nicer' gang, the one that took care of people, protected them.

Well… The right kind of people.

He had no idea as of yet how hard this would hit their recruitment numbers, nor their retention of the more fringe members. A fair number of their people were not the type who patrolled the streets or hit other gangs - they were normal citizens supporting the Empire with their time or labor - or information, particularly within the police services. They'd likely take a hit there. No one liked Masters, and it was not a good look for them to be outed as using one, however fake the story was. The fact they were being put as simple servants utilizing Gesellschaft for said Master service, made it even worse, at least to Max.

It made him look weak.

It annoyed him how easily the public fell for Panacea's lies, because that is what they were. Kayden had been an avid member of the cause by her own free will. Even if she had left in a fit of misguidance, Max had always known she'd be back one day… At least until she was hoodwinked by Panacea…

She was adopted wasn't she? Might be worth checking if she had a bit of jew in her…

If nothing else to justify to the members and populace why someone they'd just handily praised was now an enemy. That they'd been led astray by a Jew pretending to be one of them.

He noticed Hookwolf enter the conference room at last, the man sitting down next to Cricket and Stormtiger without a care in the world. Max frowned slightly at him, not willing to make a big deal out of such a minor thing. Tardiness always annoyed Max, but unfortunately it was not worth the effort to admonish Hookwolf for it. He was notoriously hard to manage and would gladly cause a ruckus to prove a point - which they couldn't afford right now. Not while the PR storm was still ongoing and being fought tooth and nail - both online and with local and state news networks.

He wished he could issue a blanket ban to keep people off PHO, they were only making it worse. But the adage held true - never give an order you know will not be obeyed.

Max slowly turned away from the window, Fenja and Menja flanking him as he slowly made eye contact with each of the attendants. Once he'd held Brad's gaze until he looked away with a slight grunt, he started speaking, slowly. With measured words, he needed to project a certain calm, that this was nothing, a mere setback.

"We are in a precarious situation with Purity's defection… She knows us all, she knows about Medhall, she knows how we operate." He began, seeing the uncomfortable looks around the table, they'd all known Kayden. "We need to decide a way forward."

At least he'd gotten word Night and Fog were returning to the fold, whatever deal Kayden took to fake repentance, did not involve the two creepy capes. He'd save that news for the end, let the meeting finish on a good note.

Krieg, or James Fleischer, as he was in his civvies at the moment, frowned deeply, "That works both ways, we know of her, and her child, surely she would not be that stupid, Max?"

Victor scoffed, eyes closed, one hand stroking his chin where he sat calmly next to Othala. "Starlight came to be under two ex-members of New Wave, Kayden might simply unmask as well and think it protects her from any retaliation on our behalf." The small smirk on his face that bloomed into being, encapsulated what Victor thought of that being enough of a protection.

Brad barked out a laugh, slamming a fist on the table, making Justin jump in his seat from the sudden noise, giving an annoyed look at Brad. Cricket and Stormtiger both looked bored, and as usual had nothing important to add to a conversation that did not include a raid, or something to fight.

"Ask Fleur how that went?" Brad said with vicious relish, as always delighting in violence and death, Max suspected Brad, for all his tattoos, was not an actual believer - that he just saw the Empire as the perfect outlet for his thirst for battle.

He'd also welcomed Fleur's killer into the wolfpack like a returning champion, which had confirmed certain suspicions Max had about how truly unaffiliated the man had been before his act. Unaffiliated to the Empire at the time, certainly, even New Wave hadn't been able to find evidence to the contrary. But unaffiliated from Hookwolf? Max wasn't so sure.

No matter what else, they could not go down that road again, another breakdown of the unwritten rules that flagrant, and they'd face serious consequences. Max put a stop on any thoughts in that dangerous direction immediately, the sound of blades erupting around him silencing the gathered capes. He turned ice cold eyes on his mad wolf, "We will not go there, we will not even think about it, we are right now in a situation we can still turn in our favor, If Kayden dies in her civilian identity and it's tied to us, even if it isn't tied to us… We lose every bit of reputation we've built up, we'll be considered nothing different than Lung and his depraved gang. Or more likely, with the unwritten rules breached again… We'll be considered worse!"

He was disappointed in Kayden, absolutely. He was enraged at her cowardice. But he would not order her murder. Not for this. It was not yet so unforgivable. Not until she raised her hand against him. And even then, in battle, not going after her in her home like a dirty sneaky Jew.

He looked around the table, the ice cold rage simmering under the surface, there ever since Kayden went public with her betrayal. "I brought you here for options, we need a way forward that does not harm us, but will deal with Purity, "The name tasted like cloying and disgusting ash, as he said it, "And that Jewish bitch Panacea who lured her away, filled her head with lies and concocted this ridiculous story."

"Can we go after Kayden's kid?" Seeing Max's eyes flashing with anger, Justin blanched and rushed forward with his idea, "Legally I mean, not like kidnapping. I mean custody!"

Max had already thought of it, but it held too many risks, he shook his head before one of his people could make an argument out of it, "We can't go after her directly, she'll expose us for sure if we put the newborn child in any risk. We need to find a way to indirectly push her away from that team… Once she is on her own again…" Max let out a breath, tapping his fingers on the table determinedly, "She'll come crawling."

He had her measure. She would not resist him forever.

"Going after Panacea has its own difficulties." James muttered, Max's right hand man smoothly moving the discussion on from Kayden, the law laid down as far as she was concerned now, it would be passed on to the ground troops within the day.

Last thing he needed was some fool foot soldier taking a shot at Kayden and ensuring she came after them. They could win, but it wouldn't be without costs.

"Can't kill her, that's a kill order, right there." Brad said bluntly, scratching his chin, "Probably the same if we maim the girl, they don't like it when anyone useful gets too roughed up." Brad grinned, "Makes me wanna do it more, if I'm honest."

Even Cricket gave him a look at that, and Brad desisted, leaning back in his chair, grinning irreverently, hands behind his head.

Max ignored Brad's irreverence, as he was used to, as he thought on his more useful points. The PRT and Protectorate, who, while fairly useless in Brockton Bay as an organization, were able to push pretty hard when push came to shove. Like if someone hurt the healer able to protect a city from an Endbringer, it was an issue that was hard to overcome.

Max knew well that villains rarely got sentenced to the Birdcage for their crimes unless they became particularly egregious - just for how potentially useful they could be in an Endbringer fight - that usefulness would likely be disregarded in the face of harming someone so useful as Panacea.

No villain he knew, brought as many benefits to an Endbringer fight as Panacea did.

"We don't need to hurt her though? Do we?" Alabaster spoke up for the first time, through the speaker on the table, his particular appearance precluding him from joining them in person in a civilian setting, "So Kayden is off the table, so is the jew bitch, but what if the rest of them team gets fucked up? Or worse? Not gonna be much of a team with just the two of em'."

Max had thought as much, when he'd pondered the issue beforehand. But he was honestly surprised that Alabaster had latched onto the idea first, for all that he was one of their capes, he was a glorified thug really, his power useful in tying up an enemy cape for a time, but not much else. Usually he worked with the non powered members, so he could let them flee if a cape showed up, just by being annoyingly hard to get rid of.

"Glory girl. If Panacea loses her sister she might just plain give up on Brockton Bay. And she'll still be alive for Endbringer attacks, so the PRT won't up the response." Victor jumped on the idea, a glint in his eyes. Othala smiling at him as she laid a hand on his arm.

"Glory girl, huh? That bitch would make for good prey, she could take a couple hits for sure." Brad mused out loud, an excited grin spreading over his face.

"She's hard to put down, but between several of us…" Stormtiger said, trailing off suggestively.

"It would send a message." James agreed stiffly, turning his head slightly, looking for any added instructions from Max.

Max smiled coldly, he so liked it when they'd reach a conclusion he'd already made, although as usual, they didn't grasp the full situation like he could. "We won't be able to do it ourselves, not in this climate." He warned, immediately pouring water on Hookwolf's excitement. There was also the fact that Glory Girl was not an easy person to injure in the first place, it would be left too open-ended if they struck, they didn't have a proper flier anymore - the girl could simply escape into the air.

"We'll have to sub contract this hit." Max said with finality, knowing how much it would annoy Brad, but he couldn't afford anything but perfection here.

Plenty of people in the Americas had reason to come to Brockton for one reason or another. He just needed the right mix of dangerous but expendable. Max would make use of them, and then punish them publicly for hurting an all white team of heroes, bringing the Empire back in the public eyes as saviors and the only ones willing to stand up and fight for what is right, and with it, neatly begin debunking the wild story Kayden and Panacea had spun.

How could they be behind such cruelty in regards to Purity, if they even protected the heroes, going after the killer in such a way.

Surely the Empire wouldn't go for revenge on Starlight's behalf if they'd mastered Purity after all, they'd want her dead, not come to her teammates' defense. And with her sister dead, Panacea would crumble, the team would fracture. The story would fall apart once Kayden returned.

Yes, Max could see it now.

And with the team's demise - Kayden would see the writing on the wall.

Max would have to punish her quite severely, but he'd let her come back.

＊＊＊

Amy let Vicky's blabbering flow in one ear and out another as they walked around and inspected the building she was intending to purchase. A sturdy five storey building not too far off from the Boardwalk, it resembles a cement block more than anything, but they could fix that. The insides were gutted, the building's previous occupants having attempted a rebuild after a fire, but eventually running out of money before they finished, leaving the building empty. Too large for the touristy businesses around the Boardwalk, and too small for anything industrial or office related. Especially in the economic downturn Brockton was in. Or economic freefall if she was to be honest.

The building was perfect for Amy's needs. Or should she say Starlight's needs. A silly name really, Amy hadn't much cared to come up with any fancy names for their group, but Vicky had made it up, and Amy still had a hard time saying no to her sister. Especially after she'd practically arranged things as to ensure a family split and dragging Vicky off with her. They'd still talked to Crystal and Eric over the phone over the last few days, so it wasn't a complete split, but it still obviously impacted Vicky to not be living at home anymore.

"Ames! Are you even listening to me!?" Vicky demanded, floating around her so that they were facing each other, a pout on her face.

Vicky had, perhaps because of her emotional upheaval, gone all in on reinventing herself. Cutting her hair short, barely shoulder length, and styling it spiky, adding an eyebrow piercing for her right eyebrow. She was talking about coloring her hair, which Amy had heatedly argued against.

Amy thought it was all ridiculous, but suffered following along with her sister as she made the changes to her appearance, as edgy and unneeded as she thought they were. But Vicky did love expressing herself openly, whether through appearance or emotions, she didn't hide herself. That's one thing Amy could always count on, Vicky was not in any way duplicitous.

It's why when she'd taken over from the original Amy after the trigger event, she'd never been able to distance herself from Vicky, and had grown so quickly to love her sister. As annoying as she could be sometimes.

"Costumes, right?" Amy said, giving her sister a half-lidded stare, pretty sure she'd heard something along those lines. Vicky talked so much, it was easier to just listen for some key words sometimes and pluck the context out from that.

"Costumes!" Vicky agreed, throwing her hands out, bouncing slightly in the air, "We need to match now! We're an independent team, we can't just be a hodgepodge of Tiara girl and Burqa girl!"

Amy rolled her eyes, "I'm not getting into that argument again, but sure, we can go with new uniforms, but good luck getting Charlotte to change hers."

Amy thought Mouse Protector would love the kind of outfits Vicky would like to wear, but more likely for private use, not public. She was attached to her knightly persona. And she was enough of a tease that she'd definitely use a costume for more personal roleplay, just so that she could tell them all about it and make them blush.

Amy already regretted recruiting her. Vicky got along with Charlotte too well. She eyed her sister, eyes glancing over her new hairdo, something Charlotte had helped with, it did make Vicky look a lot more serious, if a little bit too try hard.

Vicky got a determined look in her eyes, raising a fist in the air, "I'll find a way!" She declared to the heavens, or the roof, in this case, as they were still inspecting their potential team headquarters.

Amy snorted, amused as always by Vicky and her delusions. She shook her head, "You're the fashionista between us, just make sure it isn't skimpy enough to get the youth guard or the PRT to scream at us, and don't pick white and gold for the colors, we're distancing ourselves from New Wave, remember?"

The youth guard has been a pain in the ass enough as is, Amy grumbled mentally to herself. They had not been impressed to have an independent team accepted by the PRT with two underage heroes, for all that their emancipation paperwork was in progress. For all that Vicky and Amy were both 17 and not that far off adulthood anyway, not that Amy was officially 17, Carol having put her at a year younger then Vicky when adopting her to sell the story of them being sisters better to the uninformed.

Vicky smiled brightly, even if her eyes didn't quite match the smile, a touch of conflicted emotions glimmering in the depths, "I'll find us the coolest uniforms ever, and make Mom regret not listening to us!" She swore, before her face turned sly, "Hey, my favorite sister in the whole wide world…" She wheedled, floating in close.

"What do you want?" Amy said flatly, giving her an exasperated look, she'd already gotten the go ahead to design the uniforms hadn't she? They had even gotten a pass from school for the week due to Amy's interference, which she'd insisted on extending to Vicky as well, so she felt she'd done enough favors already.

Vicky held her hands out, her whole countenance almost blindingly cheerful all of a sudden. "Money please!" She chirped.

"I gave you five thousand yesterday, where did it all go?" Amy asked with irritation, even as she reached for her wallet to hand her sister her card. "I'm not an ATM." She added grouchily.

"Costume consultation with this expert LA firm, now I gotta pay for actually designing and making them!" Vicky said excitedly, her fingers snatching out lightning fast to snatch the card out of Amy's fingers. "Thanks sis, you're the best!" She crooned, hugging the card to her chest.

Amy rolled her eyes, continuing the walk around. First thing she'd done after the press conference was announcing that she was available on request, to heal the ultra wealthy, in return for them donating money to charity.

She'd immediately gone ahead and healed one of the richest men in the world, basically resetting his age twenty years with the work she'd done on his organs. With Strider available, going to heal someone was a five minute job at the most. The billionaire had no problem going along with the scheme she'd cooked up either. Happily donating 20 million dollars to charities in Brockton Bay and the surrounding area. The 'payment' for her services, as far as the public was aware. Keeping her faultless reputation spotless.

Despite removing herself from the hospitals, except for a real emergency situation, she'd done the switch in the most PR friendly way she could manage. The millions she was flooding charities with by healing only the wealthy, would probably do more good than her healing ever did. Which is what she'd said in a more flowery way in the press conference to explain herself as well, so far she hadn't seen too negative of a reaction.

So far.

She figured once someone important enough died because she wasn't there, she'd see some blowback.

Carol was probably blowing her lid though, she'd always been so insistent on Amy healing people, even the ones she didn't need to, the broken bones and sprains and other things the doctors and nurses could easily treat on their own with time.

She wrenched her mind away from any more thoughts on Carol, instead thinking of the 100 million dollars in a Numberman account she'd actually received for the job of healing a billionaire, the 20 million extra to charity just being the red herring. The money felt so much better knowing she was pulling the wool over so many eyes, even if she couldn't publically use most of it - even if she was selling her services for far cheaper than she could. Of course her new team, Starlight, was able to take donations, so that she'd be able to use some of the donated money to do team things, like pay for an amazing headquarters.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Between the 5 billionaires she'd healed in the past few days, she'd received enough 'donations' to buy this building a hundred times over. Money was never going to be a problem for their team.

She'd been a little apprehensive on using the Numberman for her accounts because of Cauldron, but since Contessa was running around helping her for some reason, she figured anything Cauldron wanted to know, they probably already knew.

Amy pursed her lips in thought, her eyes staring around her almost unseeing as she pictured how she'd remodel the building. First floor would be a reception and gift shop mostly, allowing the public to access the building somewhat, and generating some goodwill and sales.

Second floor, conference rooms for meetings with the PRT or others when necessary. Anything else they could need for interaction with the public or the PRT would also go on the second floor including a space for press conferences and the like. Then there would be a cutoff, preventing non-team access to the upper three floors.

With the contract she'd already negotiated with the Elite, no one would be able to come into team-only areas of the building without using Endbringer levels of force or a ridiculous power.

So it wouldn't be perfect, but it would be as close as she could get it. She hadn't bought the building yet, but she didn't foresee any difficulties. Luckily the Elite was for the most part, at least the east coast cell, accepted. So she wouldn't catch too much flack from the PRT for getting involved, they used Uppercrusts force fields as well after all.

One floor, likely the top, would be apartments, so that she and Vicky had somewhere to live, but likely it would incorporate most, if not all, of the team as well. Safety in numbers and all that. While they all lived elsewhere in their civilian identities (excepting Amy and Vicky), having a place to crash when needed, or as a safehouse, could be useful.

Kayden might move in any way to protect her kid from possible Empire retaliation. If she did… Amy would definitely push Vicky onto baby duty. She would not be dealing with that. She'd be too tempted to use her power to make it be quiet.

One entire floor would be Amy's lab, nothing too fancy… But she did want to take her power for a spin, see if she could do something healing wise, that would continue to grow her fame and make her untouchable, say like curing cancer. She could fluff that as being her healing power, probably.

Honestly the more she realized exactly how famous she was, the less she was worrying about coming out as a biotinker. She still would prefer not to, but she also didn't think anyone would believe her to be the new Nilbog or Bonesaw right now. The public response she was getting was just too ridiculously positive. She was fairly sure the PRT or Cauldron was actually pushing it to further lengths. Besides, in all likelihood, after Paris… Cauldron and the PRT probably set their thinkers on her and figured out she was one anyway.

Hopefully Ivy would not come up as an Amy clone too easily to a thinker. That could be problematic. She thought it unlikely, thinkers needed something to work on, plant power and a completely different body with different cues should not lead them to - Panacea cloned herself.

Fingers crossed.

She was undecided on what to use the last floor for, but it seemed like this building would be a perfect fit. Perhaps a communal area for the team? A gym? She'd think of something. The team wasn't a democracy after all, only Vicky had the power to make Amy do anything.

"You okay on your own?" Amy asked Vicky, after checking her wrist watch. She had a meeting to go to, finally. The Elite were exhausting to deal with. Far too smug, for people that exercised so much caution and paranoia. At least the east coast Elite did not include people like Bastard son.

The fact he was allowed to run around unhindered showed a lack of sense in the Elite, if anything they should have kept him completely separate from the organization as a cat's paw. Ugh, there she goes again, on an internal tangent, dealing with villains makes her think too much.

Vicky happily nodded her head, still clutching Amy's credit card to her chest. Floating forward to place a kiss to Amy's cheek, her eyes sparkling with warmth.

"Don't buy anything stupid." Amy warned, before sending a text checking Strider's availability, she couldn't quite stop the small smile on her face, or the warmth growing in her chest. Vicky always managed to cheer her up so easily even with the smallest gestures.

"I'd never!" Vicky swore, her smile growing into a dangerous looking grin. The way her eyes were sparkling was a telling sign of a shopping spree.

Amy sighed, shaking her head fondly.

She's definitely going to buy something stupid.

＊＊＊

Amy could feel Ivy's frustration more clearly as she arrived in New York via the Strider express. She put it to the back of her mind, Ivy had her business to handle, she had hers.

"Panacea. Welcome to New York." A crisp yet melodious female voice greeted them, the female cape wearing a dark skin tight suit with no ornaments or zippers visible, only her mouth could be seen, the rest of her face covered by a dark visor, cloth covering the rest of her head, attached to the visor, making it look like she was wearing a headdress, the cloth hanging down simulating hair. Gloom, a member of the New York Elite, and the person Amy had been in contact with over the last few days.

"Glad to be here, or I will be, as long as we can adhere to the mutually beneficial agreement we agreed to on the phone." Amy said dryly, the Elite had been beyond frustrating over the phone. Hemming and hawing, refusing to agree to anything concrete, until finally they did, after Amy applied pressure.

Amy had to force this meeting by bluntly stating she would move on to other avenues if they kept bullshiting her. She had other things to do than talk circles around villains.

Gloom had become much more cooperative overnight.

"If the tests show a positive result, I imagine it will be a fruitful partnership." Gloom said plainly, sweeping her arm forward towards the rooftop entrance, "If you will, Miss?"

Amy turned to Strider, "If I don't text you the codeword every twenty minutes, get the team and turn this building to rubble." She said casually, feeling, more than seeing, Gloom startling slightly in the background.

Strider smirked, tipping his cap, "Your will shall be done, mistress!"

Amy swatted his arm, rolling her eyes fondly, "Off with you, none of that mistress crap." He's gotten worse the longer he's been around Vicky and Charlotte, those two are a plague…

"Of course, mistress." Strider quipped, giving her a wink, before he disappeared in a loud crack. Leaving her alone on the rooftop with the member of the Elite.

She made a show of setting a timer on her wristwatch, smiling at Gloom, "So you've got 19 minutes and 40 seconds before I have to prove I'm alive and well, shall we?"

Gloom seemed to have gotten over her surprise, her black painted lips curving into an honest smile, "You are nothing like the reports say." She said, as she led on, leading Amy into the building, not an Elite building she was fairly certain, but one set up just for this particular occasion.

It wouldn't surprise her if they bought the building just for today's enterprise.

Amy smiled enigmatically, "Oh, you have no idea how wrong they are…" She told the woman. Taking a moment to admire her. Villains, even more than the Heroes, proportionally wore skin tight uniforms. Amy approved. She didn't have the body to flaunt herself like they did, but she definitely approved.

Gloom's uniform could have been painted on, and Amy definitely noticed. Having come out publicly, she was fairly certain Gloom being her escort and point of contact was a purposeful honey trap, a way to entice Amy closer to the Elite. Perhaps she was just projecting, but a young woman likely around her own age? Dripping with sensuality? Seemed a mighty coincidence to have her be the point of contact for the recently public lesbian.

"So… How many hoops do I have to jump through to get this over with?" Amy asked, only letting a hint of her annoyance through as she followed Gloom through the hallways, not making any secret of admiring her perfectly sculpted ass. If they were offering eye candy, it would be rude to completely ignore it, even if she wasn't going to accept the candy from the friendly strangers.

Gloom glanced back at her, her full lips in an amused smile, "Not too many, we're just ensuring the method works, you understand." She demurred.

Amy snorted, "I'm Panacea. Of course it works."

Gloom opened a set of doors, showing a surgical suite inside, a man already apparently unconscious, laying on the operating table. "Love that confidence." She purred, lips still with that amused quirk to them, "But the boss likes to make sure, we got to see that you have what it takes." She bit her lip enticingly, "You could ask for practically anything if you succeed, you know." She breathed out huskily.

Amy giggled, unable to hold it back, "Sorry, I suppose you think I'm just a horny teenager," She managed to get out between giggles, "But that was just…" She giggled again, as Gloom lost her smile, her body posture straightening, "That was just so bad!"

Gloom, now in a more neutral position, her lips pursed in annoyance, sighed, "It could have been fun." She mused out loud, not sounding like she really cared one way or another.

Amy snorted, "If I wanted to stick my tongue in something venomous, I'd go find a snake." She said, somewhat playfully. Like she'd get involved with a member of the Elite. Now if Gloom had chatted up Ivy…. Well, she didn't have a reputation to protect…

A villain had more options after all. Plus Ivy was the sexy part of Amy anyway. She had all the sex appeal that she was lacking…

"So," Amy said, clapping her hands together, "I heal this guy up, then we can get down to the real business?" She asked, moving things on from that embarrassingly transparent attempt at seduction. She was a teenager, not retarded.

Uppercrust truly must have something wrong with his brain if he authorized that attempt. They hadn't known each other near long enough for that kind of thing to work. If it was Amy running things, she'd try to insert someone as a friend first, earn some trust before ever moving on to seduction.

Gloom gestured to the man, a pleasant smile back on her painted lips, "Go right ahead, Panacea, although we will need some time to verify the results after." She warned, seemingly having no hard feelings after Amy laughed at her.

Amy strode to the table, laying a hand on the man's uncovered arm, instantly finding everything wrong with his body. "You couldn't find anyone that took care of themselves worse?" She snarked at Gloom, shaking her head.

The man literally had several organs on the verge of failure and a brain tumor to boot. With the amount of gunk in his lungs, he wasn't far off from destroying those too. With a sigh she got to work, beginning with cleaning out his lungs, filtrating out the garbage through his skin, with a flex of her power.

"Fascinating." Gloom said, as she bent over the man, observing the black gunk that poured out of his pores.

"Yes, I am amazing, I'm still not sleeping with you." Amy said distractedly as she began working on the organs. Restoring them to a pristine state, using some of the fat from the vast reserve in the man's belly as fuel.

"A pity, I'd love to see what your power could do, firsthand." Gloom said, a devilish smirk on her face as she looked at Amy. "So many fantastical things you could do no doubt…"

Amy repressed a shiver, Okay, maybe she isn't too bad at this, after all, she thought. How many times had she wondered what she could do with her power together with a willing participant in the throes of passion. "You really don't want me touching you." She said, but it came out weaker than she intended, she looked away from the smirking villainess, concentrating on fixing the brain tumor. The size of it made it inoperable by normal means. It took Amy all of thirty seconds, and twenty of those were just checking it over.

I'm Panacea, bitch. She thought, smugly.

"Well, if you change your mind… You do have my number now." Gloom said teasingly. Crossing her arms under her bountiful chest, drawing Amy's eyes for a moment.

"Ugh, I hate smug people." She said, tearing her gaze away. "He's done by the way." She added flippantly.

Gloom, straightened, putting a hand to where her ear would be behind the visor and headdress, obviously listening to orders through a communicator.

Amy took that moment to text Strider her code word, noticing that the twenty minutes were almost up, starting another countdown, which she pointedly set exaggeratedly, making sure Gloom noticed.

She really wished she knew what her power was, Gloom could mean a lot of different things, and she hadn't found anything, not even Vicky sweet talking Dean into using the console on the Rig to check - had dredged up any information other than that she was a confirmed member of the Elite in its New York cell.

"We have a room set aside for refreshments while we verify the subject." Gloom said, swaying her hips as she walked ahead, "This way, Miss."

Amy pursed her lips. Before following the tantalizing villainess through another door, leading into a lounge area. It was ridiculously over the top, including an actual chocolate fountain.

Amy gave Gloom a hard look as the villainess smiled innocently at her. The room was full of foods considered aphrodisiacs.

"Just to be clear, all this wasting of my time is going to cost your boss extra." She said grumpily. Refusing to be drawn into the game.

Gloom just smiled wider.

＊＊＊

Ivy took a deep breath, one eyebrow twitching slightly, New York had been one frustration after another, and Amy really wasn't helping her with all the horny all of a sudden.

They really needed to get laid at some point.

With some effort, she pushed all that to the back of her mind again, returning from her latest failed trip, Sherrel opening the door to the invisible humvee they'd been using as somewhat of a headquarters - to avoid attention.

"No luck again, huh?" Sherrel said, tongue poking out between her teeth as she had a panel wrenched open under the steering wheel as she tinkered with the insides. Removing the drugs from her system had sparked plenty of new ideas in her head, but she was limited on what she could do right now, so she constantly tinkered with their vehicle.

Ivy slid into the passenger seat, sighing explosively, "None!" She said with annoyance. "How hard could it be to find one villain!?"

Turns out, it was really damn hard. Ivy and Amy might share a brain, but it was a stupid brain, they hadn't quite realized just how hard it would be to track down Ravager in New York. Brockton Bay couldn't compare at all, they really should have thought of that. The search radius was just too large, too filled with people, other villains, heroes, independents, rogues. Regulars. So many regulars.

New York had been hit by Behemoth when Scion was still alive, so it had survived decently intact, it was full of people.

What was she supposed to do? Go knock door to door? No wonder how even with Legend in charge, New York still had so many villains, it would take forever just to find someone doing a super powered crime, let alone track them through the city.

Their trip had been a disaster from the moment they entered New York. None of them had thought of the fact that New York traffic practically ruined their biggest advantage. What was the point of an invisible vehicle, when traffic moved at a snail's pace? It hadn't helped that Sherrel had picked the largest vehicle she had left either, to travel to New York. There was no way for them to cruise down the streets and avoid everything, they couldn't escape being found if they tried.

It would be pretty obvious they were there if cars kept crashing into them thinking the space was empty… Sidewalk driving was impossible during day time hours, and even night time hours depending on where in the city they were at the time.

So they couldn't really use their invisible trump card much, it was slightly better at night, but even then they had to be careful. The streets were not exactly empty at any time.

So Jason and Sherrel stuck around in the area around the alleyway they'd stashed the invisible, enlarged Humvee in, hitting up local bars to ask surreptitious questions, well mostly Jason, Sherrel mostly tinkered, stole shit, or tinkered. Ivy on the other hand schlepped all over New York, trying every haunt of Ravager's that Mouse Protector had given Amy. She'd been forced to have Sherrel shoplift some clothes for her, because her original plan of just finding Ravager and driving up to her place and letting loose - was so dead on arrival it wasn't even funny.

And she couldn't exactly go around New York in her villain outfit, she'd rather not deal with the absolute shitstorm the New York Protectorate could drop on her if she made waves. She was pretty noticeable.

So she'd been going around New York in a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt Sherrel had helpfully lifted for her, that stated - You are what you eat. The iconography with the t-shirt didn't really need to be so graphic either. She'd definitely gotten several funny looks out and about. Where she'd even stolen this from, Ivy had no idea, with the shit eating grin Sherrel had worn when she'd returned with the clothes, she was sure she didn't want to know. At least the leather jacket she'd stolen mostly covered it up.

Apparently loyalty did not mean your subordinates couldn't tease you. Good to know for future brainwashing sessions, Ivy thought.

"So what's next?" Jason asked, "Been hearing a lot about a place in Harlem." He offered hesitantly. He'd been fairly enjoying himself, able to actually hang out in a bar, shooting pool and talking shit, without people running in fear or disgust.

Ivy sighed, putting the palm of her hand to her forehead, "We might as well check it out, although we'll have to wait for nighttime if we're going to all make it there." Ravager was going to pay for being so annoyingly hard to find. "What's the word?" She asked Jason, Sherrel completely buried inside the panel, sparks flying. Ivy knew better than to bother getting anything coherent from her once she was head deep in machinery.

Jason wrinkled his brow, "It could be nothing," He warned, which drew a snort out of Ivy, all they'd had was nothing, so what was the difference, she waved for him to go on, the man hesitantly continuing, shrinking in the backseat, unsure of himself all of a sudden. "There's an underground arena that does all kinds of competitions, fights, racing, shooting and accuracy and that kind of thing." He wet his lips, always uncomfortable when he was forced to talk more than a few sentences. "It's illegal and moves around a bit, but one of the drunks I befriended knows tonight's venue."

Ivy gave Jason a small thankful smile, "Good work, Jason." She said, meaning it, that was an actual honest to god lead.

The way he lit up at such a small amount of praise was just sad though. She inwardly resolved to praise him more often.

The whole thing served to increase Ivy's disgruntlement with the PRT and Protectorate. Jason could have avoided ever being Mush, joining the Merchants, years before that of being chased around America. He'd been willing to join the side of the heroes.

But the PRT didn't like his look.

Ivy would enjoy embarrassing them. She had so many plans when she returned to Brockton Bay.

Her eyes hardened as she grit her teeth, staring out the window at nothing, As long as I can find this Ravager bitch first!

About then is when the Humvee filled with smoke, because of course. Sherrel shouting between coughs, "It's okay! It was supposed to do that, kind of!"

Ivy let her head sink into her hands, the glamorous life of a villain…. She thought, her headache increasing.

＊＊＊

If Amy had known she'd have to wait two hours for Uppercrust to verify her work, she probably wouldn't have bothered to come, even for the benefits she'd get out of it. She didn't do well with stupidity. They either wanted her to heal him, or they didn't. All this pageantry in-between was just pissing her off.

Gloom stood before the door of the surgical suite, her body tense this time, no more flirtation with the boss in attendance apparently. "He is ready for you. We will watch your every move, if you harm him in any way…"

Amy just wanted this over with, she didn't have anything to fear from these people, even if they hurt her, Ivy could long distance heal her with the synergy she had achieved through Mouse Protector's power. "Just stop wasting my time with threats and bullshit, I can literally do this in 30 seconds, just let me do it before you annoy me enough I make him, a she." She complained bitterly.

She'd been hearing a variation of you better not do this, or don't harm him this - for over thirty minutes now.

Gloom's lips twitched briefly, "On anyone else, I'd pay to see that. But here, now, please don't, I'll seriously kill you." She warned.

Amy snorted, "And two seconds later Alexandria drops through the roof, don't test me bitch. You aren't killing anyone. Now let me heal this motherfucker." She was rapidly running out of patience. This… This exact bullshit was why she was tired of pretending to be a nice person. All the useless talking, double checking, having to talk and talk and tip toe around things.

For once she just wanted to be able to reach over, tap the hot bitch's neck to make her fall to the ground as a paralyzed mess, and then go do her shit, heal the old man, get paid, and get the fuck out. But that wasn't hero behavior.

Honestly, if she wasn't going to get so much shit for this, she wouldn't be revealing to the Elite that she could do brains. For all that she claimed it was limited and only suitable for killing cancerous growths. The Elite weren't stupid, if they didn't realize she was a complete biotinker after this, they didn't deserve their reputation.

Gloom must have seen something in her eyes, because she got out of the way and opened the doors really quickly.

Amy snorted as she noticed the seven capes standing around the surgical suite, against the walls, a bit of an overkill there. "I'm touched that you've all come to see me perform." She snarked, walking forward without a care about who these people were, they wouldn't touch her. Not with Uppercrust right there, not when she was his only hope of surviving an inoperable brain tumor.

They'd even gone so far as to cover Uppercrust entirely with a sheet, only his scalp visible. They obviously didn't realize just how much information about a person Amy got just by touching them, or they'd realized how pointless this charade was.

Just as Amy was about to touch him, to heal his time wasting old ass. A hand grasped her wrist.

"I'd suggest you let go. Now." Amy said dangerously.

What was it with capes? The conflict drive from the shards just had to pick a fight when they're getting everything they want right now? Do they even have that with Scion dead? Amy wasn't sure, even for herself, but she was really pissed off right now either way.

The cape holding her wrist, she recognized him as the New York Elite team's speedster, Nitro. He wore gloves with his silver and black full body uniform. So somewhat intelligent.

Nitro did not let go, instead his grip hardened, as he spoke softly, "You are being too cavalier with this, do not try anything." He said seriously.

Amy smiled pleasantly but it didn't reach her eyes, as she patted the man on the gloved hand holding her wrist, "You should have let go." She said with scorn, her thumb already pressing against the gap between glove and uniform. Not intelligent enough.

Nitro, in a blink, stood at the other end of the room, Amy just smirked at him smugly. Before laying a hand on Uppercrust's scalp. His brain tumor almost down to the inch exactly like the man she'd healed previously, how hard must they have looked to find someone similar enough to test her healing before and after? Within seconds, she was done, stepping away.

For once not doing anything extra. Well… Not too much.

"What did you do to me?" Nitro asked, suspiciously, moving his body back and forth.

"Uppercrust is healed, as promised I expect Starlight's headquarters to be fully protected by his best force field equipment." Amy said, both to the room, and the listening man under the sheet who'd actually be the one fulfilling her requests, she completely ignored Nitro. "Also, without delay, as promised, your south american contractor - able to mold and create materials far superior to mundane ones, will arrive within the week to reform my buildings structure with said materials." Amy glanced down at the sheet covered man, "As a favor, I fixed up your organs so you're essentially twenty years younger. You owe me one, I'll collect that favor one day."

Mostly so he wouldn't die of old age and make his force field generators useless to her. But she'd take a favor anyway.

"What did you do to me!?" Nitro was suddenly in her face, Gloom suddenly there as well, pulling him back, her lips twisted into a snarl, "Nitro stand down, you idiot!" She thundered.

"That's enough, Nitro." A calm voice came, Uppercrust pushing the sheet off, a surgical mask covering his face, not his usual face covering, she knew, but apparently they'd literally brought him from a private hospital bed in just a hospital gown.

"Oh no, the sheet is off, now I know what you look like." Amy drawled sarcastically, making Nitro grit his teeth, only Gloom holding him back. The rest of the capes had either more experience or more sense, not moving without an order from their leader.

Uppercrust chuckled, sitting on the operating table with casual ease now that his aches had been healed down to the pinched nerve in his lower back, "Ah, my subordinates insisted, it was a bit silly, but it made them feel better." He said with humor apparent.

"Sir!" Came from several voices around the room, embarrassment evident.

"You'll have your payment, Panacea, no one will be able to knock down your team's headquarters after this." He paused, amending his statement slightly, "No Endbringer guarantee." He slid off the bed, sighing in contentment, obviously pleased that nothing hurt anymore. "I apologize for the zealousness of my people, they will not bother you anymore. This I swear." He said seriously.

"Good, I'll be leaving then, it's been… Awful. Let's not do it again." Amy said, walking out without a backwards glance at the annoying capes that had stretched out her day with bullshit. Like her healing needed to be checked.

If she wanted to brainwash the old man she could have, no matter what checks they'd put in place. "Oh, by the way, your brain tumor will grow back if you don't actually deliver." She smirked at the looks she got from the capes in the room, "What? You thought I trusted you?" She said mockingly. "If you deliver, I'll tell you where, and any healer or regular surgeon can take care of it before it becomes a problem."

Again Nitro yelled after her, "What did you do, Panacea! Damn it, I know you did something to me!?"

Panacea ignored him, walking away, as Uppercrust laughed, "You'll have your deal, Panacea." He said amicably, seemingly amused at her byplay with his people, and not bothered at all that she'd left the possibility of a tumor returning in his head. Probably because it wasn't anything dangerous, he wouldn't need her help to deal with it if he decided to renege on their deal after all. But she'd been annoyed, so it was more as a warning for any future annoyances than an actual threat.

She could hear the rustling of cloth and some grunts of exertion behind her, no doubt the rest of the team had to hold down the fool who'd dared lay a hand on her, to prevent him from doing something stupid. How did a foolhardy boy like that manage to get into the Elite?

He's lucky she won't tell Vicky, her sister had only one response to anyone that touched Amy without permission. Extreme force.

Speedster or not, her sister would find a away to pound him into paste.

"I made you the fastest man alive." Amy said flippantly to Nitro, lifting her hand for a jaunty wave back at the Elite capes.

"Your welcome~"

＊＊＊

Ivy could almost enjoy this venue. The music had an exhilarating beat, the ambiance was electric with so many people cheering, betting and just having an amazing time. The old hockey arena that had been slightly damaged by Behemoth in an area of Harlem that had been mostly devastated and never properly rebuilt - had plenty of room for the MMA style fighting cage, as well as the areas where people competed in accuracy with every manner of shooting and throwing weapon. With the inbuilt seating and the concession areas already there, someone had seen opportunity obviously, even though Ivy doubted they could pull regular showings without the police shutting it down.

So, yes, it was almost enjoyable.

Except Amy had made Ivy very desirable. And drunk criminals were not very good at taking no for an answer.

With a growl, Ivy grabbed and twisted the arm of the fat and drunk, tattoo covered neanderthal - who had been about to grope her ass, "Come near me again and I break it!" She hissed at the man.

His buddies broke out laughing and the drunk, in a way to save face, tried to leverage his greater size into pushing back against Ivy.

Ivy had enough, she was going to break this man. But before she could, Sherrel stepped in, causally whacking the man between the eyes with a wrench, sending him staggering. The men moving on, lewd comments tossed out as a parting shot.

"Please tell me Jason has spotted Ravager!" Ivy asked Sherrel. They'd been there for three hours at this point. Several villains had been spotted in attendance, betting or fighting. But not Ravager.

Sherrel winced, shaking her head, "Sorry, boss lady, no luck." She commiserated.

"Hey, you two gay or something?" A man wearing a skull halloween mask and a leather trench coat with way too many belts criss crossing his torso, asked them, his words slurred.

"Yes." "Only for her." Ivy and Sherrel answered, one dry as the desert, one cheerfully with a wide smile.

Ivy sighed, "Sherrel, no you're not. Stop that." She crossed her arms, annoyed at her underlings' assertion, then she uncrossed her arms in pure annoyance as the idiot edge lord immediately stared at her chest. "Go away." She ordered, tersely.

She had wanted to be pretty, to be desirable. She hadn't quite realized how many idiots she'd have to deal with because of it. She'd only seen how people treated Vicky at school and wanted that.

This, she didn't want.

The skull masked guy puffed his chest up, thumping it even, as he declared, "I'm a new villain, about to be super famous."

Ivy purposefully turned away from the idiot, trusting Sherrel to warn her if he actually did anything threatening, "One more hour, then we're ending it, I can't take anymore idiots." She growled.

Sherrel shook her head, "Boss, it's like you've been hiding away all your life," She protested, "Gorgeous hotties like us always deal with this, it's nothing new." She smirked, tapping the wrench in her hand against her body, "Got it you flaunt it, you gotta use what you have, boss!"

Ivy twitched, she could hardly say she'd never been pretty enough before. She just grunted instead. Eyes searching the arena floor. The guy behind her was still monologuing, not even realizing they weren't paying him any attention.

"Fucking finally!" She exclaimed, seeing Ravagers black and red cape costume entering the arena, full of swagger, obviously about to compete.

"Oh, want me to tag her then?" Sherrel asked, hands in her pocket, where the tracking seed Ivy had grown was resting, she'd given a similar one to Jason. Ivy would be able to feel it wherever it was, as long as she was within at least a few miles. "If you can do it in a way you're not in any danger, go ahead, otherwise we'll just follow her when she leaves." Ivy ordered. The seed would make it easier to follow her to a less public location for their confrontation. But if Ravager couldn't be surreptitiously seeded, then they'd just follow her when she left. No reason to risk Sherrel or Jason.

Ravager had, like Mouse Protector, enhanced agility and physical capabilities, but unlike Mouse Protector who could teleport short distances via a touch stone of kinds, Ravager, well… Ravaged. Any cut from her would continue growing, widening, deepening, festering. The smallest cut could end up enough to cut you in half with time. So she couldn't have Jason or Sherrel in the line of fire once they engaged. Jason transforming into Sandman could be useful, but she didn't have enough sand for him to truly utilize it yet.

Ivy watched as Ravager eventually easily won the ranged throwing competition, taking home a stack of cash, Sherrel, by then - amongst the group of fans congratulating her. Ivy saw Sherrel move away, a smug look on her face as the group broke up. Ivy could feel that the seed wasn't following her. She'd managed to seed Ravager.

Ivy's grin turned dangerous. Finally, let's end the threat once and for all. She thought with anticipation.

She was interrupted by a hand on her shoulder. The halloween masked villain who'd been talking this entire time, interrupting her thoughts, whining, "How dare you ignore the great and mighty Skullbone!"

This guy….

Ivy counted to ten in her head. Then she counted to ten again. Nope. She still had an idiot attached to her.

"You're not even that hot, probably dyed your hair too, stupid slut." Skullbone muttered drunkenly.

Ivy stalked out of the arena a minute later, feeling simultaneously pissed off and pleased. The crying and screaming from the stupid young newbie clutching his broken hand - soothed her mind, at the same time as she was utterly pissed off that he'd dared to say something like that to her.

Now only the easy part was left. The beating.

＊＊＊

Ravager hung out for another two hours, doing god knows what, before leaving. Time that Ivy spent playing card games with her underlings in the Humvee. Both her underlings… Did not have a poker face for shit. She'd have to fix that. They were stupidly easy to read.

Ivy and co, followed behind Ravager as she drove off on a sleek looking motorcycle, driving like a mad woman, or a thrill seeker, barely avoiding death by inches at times.

Only the fact they were invisible and that Sherrel could drive like a formula one driver let them keep up when the motorcycle would cut through alleys - forcing them to speed around, following Ivy's sense of where her seed was.

Finally Ravager stopped, at an old garage in the Bronx. Perhaps her hideout, perhaps just where she stored her motorcycle, Ivy didn't care, she just wanted to finish this, and then get the hell out of New York.

"Pull in, keep invisible, stay out of it." Ivy ordered quietly, having changed into her villainess uniform, well more like she'd taken off her clothes and grown her uniform - but semantics.

Jason had kept his eyes closed as a perfect gentleman should. The less said about Sherrels comments the better. Ivy had no idea how regaining her sanity had made the woman filthier. Even if it was in mind, not body this time.

Ivy stepped out of the car, Ravager immediately turned her way, obviously having heard the car door opening, if not the vehicle arriving in the first place.

"Who are you supposed to be? Plant slut, Flower jugs?" She asked with casual derision, leaning back against her motorcycle, her riding leathers matching her cape uniform, her full face mask on, only eye holes visible.

Ivy was getting real tired of being called a slut. "I'm here to deal with pest control, someone heard a little rat was going to go way above her station and bring the Slaughterhouse to New York…" She drawled out coldly, sauntering forward, vines growing out of her bracelets, thorns prevalent on them.

"Now… How did you know about that?" Ravager hissed out, pulling out a set of throwing knives in one hand, "If you're nice enough to answer, I'll only cut off some fingers!"

"Ravager, stand down, if it is true you are planning on contacting the Slaughterhouse Nine, you can not be allowed to remain outside of custody." A stern female voice interrupted them both.

Ivy looked up to the rooftop of the garage. For fucks sake, I god damn hate New York! She screamed mentally.

What exactly were the odds they'd run into Ursa Aurora patrolling the Bronx, in this particular area, at this particular time?

"She's mine!" Ivy growled. Sending a vine forward towards Ravager. She wasn't going to miss out on her objective now, not when the PRT would just let her out again to contact Jack Slash at a later date.

The fight was on.

＊＊＊

"Fortuna. I suppose something's gone to hell… Or surprisingly well, you only ever show up for either of those." A forcibly jovial voice said, a man sitting on a tree stump, carefully whittling a wooden figurine, the forested area around him littered in figurines, all of them of the same person. There were thousands of the things, scattered around everywhere.

Each figurine had a strangely emotion filled look of anguish on them, perfectly carved. The figurines were almost life-like and had an eerie feel to them.

"Who can say…" Came the quiet soft response.

The man sighed, a small smile playing on his lips as he shook his head with melancholy, old memories on his mind, "You can Contessa, that's literally your entire thing." He chided.

"Maybe I just wanted to see an old friend?" Contessa said, walking out from behind a tree, trademark fedora on her head, her hand free of weapons today, so she wasn't playing the boogeyman for now. Not that it mattered, if he could be killed so easily it would have solved a lot of issues already.

There were many days he wished he hadn't been so full of confidence and ideas for a better future. Optimism had only gotten him here. A pyrrhic victory.

"Ah," The man finally sighed, dropping his latest carving, answering Contessa, "Do I count as that now, as I am?" He'd had a fair handle on his depression, but old friends dropping by always made him maudlin. Not that he ever had one of those drop by, other than Contessa. He'd like to imagine the others would cheer him up more, if they were aware of his existence, but honestly, Rebecca would likely just pummel him, for the little good it would do for her.

"Who knows what the future will show…" Contessa said idly, picking up a figurine and sliding it into a pocket, making no attempt to hide the action. Not that it mattered much around him. He continued to be surprised that she even showed up, made the effort to let him know she was still working on it.

Killing him.

"Well, something good must have happened, you're only this ridiculous at that point." He said softly, another small smile blossoming onto his face, even sadder this time, as he addressed the figurine theft, "Don't tell me your path needs a figurine?" He lightly mocked. Trying to force himself out of his darkening mood.

Contessa refused to answer, which as usual, was a sign that it would indeed be involved in one of her steps on the path to victory for some reason. It had never made sense to him, it likely never would.

He appreciated the distraction nonetheless.

"So… Just dropping by again then, huh? Checking to see if I've gone insane yet?" Surprisingly he held no bitterness at the fact, but it could simply be the relief he felt that the path was still grinding on, and that Contessa was still the same. As frustrating as she was.

"See you around… Hero." She said quietly, stepping behind the tree again.

"I don't go by that name anymore…" He said, to thin air, as Contessa was already gone again. The fact Cauldron still let her use the doors after she'd split from them, showed how utterly dependent they had become on path to victory, that even with her defection, they still didn't dare to move.

The man formerly known as Hero sighed, and with a wave of his hand erased the forest around him. Whittling had gotten boring anyway…

God, he wished he was still just a simple tinker…

＊＊＊