To my immense relief, That-A-Way managed to come up with an excuse for me to check on my parents, or at least look in on them. She sent me into their area supposedly just to make sure there were no bad surprises hiding back there (or in any of the other rooms) that had been missed. Of course, others had already been back there to check multiple times, but as she put it, fresh eyes never hurt. She also said something about me having a way of finding trouble so I might as well get it over with, which I thought was unfair. But in any case, I was able to go through the viewing room and take a peek. As promised, my mom and dad were both still there, with nothing changed. They were still out of it. At this point, they were each conscious and rambling about a mix of dream and half-remembered movie reality. But I still felt a wave of relief wash over me as I stood there for just a moment to take that in.

Obviously, I figured any doctors who worked with them had to be connected to the Ministry, just in case they happen to say something they shouldn't. There was no way the people who were still in charge would take that sort of risk. Which made me wonder just what they would’ve done if my parents had said something incriminating while Izzy or I were watching. Did they think we’d pass it off as just nonsense or simply not understand the significance? Or did they have Kent ready to erase anything like that? Would he do that without my parents’ say-so? Was that why he had been nearby enough for me to run into him the other day? Or was I just being paranoid?

Either way, that was why I really wasn't surprised when I’d only been standing there for a few seconds before one of the doctors, a tall, and somewhat heavyset bald black man in his fifties, poked his head in and spoke up. “Believe me, we've been over this one with a fine-tooth comb. You won't find anything untoward in here. Not with access as strict as it is.”

It took me a second to school myself so I wouldn't snap at him about tearing me away from my parents when I’d only just barely been able to see them. But I managed to pivot on my heel and reply, “Yeah, you're probably right. We're just being super-cautious. You know how it is.” Obviously he did, given there was no way he didn’t have direct connections to the Ministry. I was going to remember his face and name. Doctor Duncan, according to the tag on his coat. Well, Doctor Duncan, I was definitely going to dig into your history as soon as I had a minute.

“Not nearly as much as you do, I’m afraid,” was his easy response before he paused, seeming to consider those words with a sigh. “And what a shame it is that you do. That--what they said about you being the one who brought Pencil in… did you really… I mean, you fought him? Are you alright?”

“You know how they say you should see the other guy?” I gestured past him, back out toward the main room. “Well, you can. He took the worst of it.” Unfortunately, even as I said that, my shoulder throbbed with pain.

The doctor noticed immediately and took a step toward me, hand raised. But he must’ve seen the way I reflexively drew back, because he stopped. “The wound,” he asked pointedly, “what is it?”

I hesitated before admitting, “Pencil cut me. It’s not super-deep, but he drew blood.”

With the speed and grace of a magician, Dr. Duncan produced a plastic-wrapped bandage. “Use the restroom out there. Wash the blood off, then open this and peel the backing of it. Hold the sticky side against the wound for five seconds before letting go. It’ll sanitize and medicate the wound. Don’t take it off for a couple days.”

Accepting the bandage, I nodded. “Thanks. And don’t worry, I’m still standing, that’s what matters in the end.”

For a moment, it looked like the man might want to say something else about it. But in the end, he just gave a slight nod. “That is important, yes. But if there's anything I can do to help sort you out before anything else happens, we owe you the very best of care. Well, we owe you so much more than that, but care is all I have on me, I’m afraid.” That was accompanied by a very faint, humorless smile.

Maybe it was unfair, but I almost felt like saying I'd sooner have Pencil examine me than him. Yeah, that was obviously my annoyance about him stopping me from spending more time with my parents talking and I quickly shoved down the thought, glad for approximately the four thousand three hundred and twentieth time that my mask and helmet hid my facial expressions. My voice even managed to sound relatively normal, with any stress hopefully attributed to the overall situation. “Thanks, but really, I’m okay. You’ve got plenty of patients already, and important ones from the look of it.” My hand waved vaguely back toward my parents. “If you say things are good in here, I’ll check a bit further down. And when things do kick off… keep your head down, okay Doctor?”

“I’ll take care of my patients,” he informed me. “And trust you and the others to take care of us.” Another pause, then, “I’m so very sorry that I have to say that to a boy your age. It’s unfair. A lot of this is unfair. You shouldn’t be here. You should be home playing video games or sleeping, not--” He stopped himself, grimacing. “You don’t want to hear me go on about this. Especially not right now. But… Paintball, do be careful out there. Believe it or not, whoever you may be, your life matters. Don’t throw it away trying to save everyone else. Watch yourself, watch your back. Don’t take unnecessary risks.” His smile was a mix of rueful and pained along with actual gratitude. “You've done far more than enough as it is. Just… take care of yourself too. And put that bandage on. You matter.”

Well, what was I supposed to say to that? How was I supposed to react to it? Besides the feeling of guilt that ran through me for all the anger that I’d felt about him interrupting me even though he couldn't have known who I was. Of course, I also felt a separate wave of suspicion that he was deliberately saying these things to manipulate me, given his obvious Ministry ties. And that was followed by even more guilt for that suspicion. Not that it disappeared. It was all complicated, and far more than I wanted to devote any attention to. Instead, I forced myself to respond as casually as possible. “I think everyone in here matters, Doctor. Let's just hope we all survive.”

His head bowed in acknowledgment to that. “Indeed. And while we have the chance before chaos returns, I'd like to check on my patients, if you don't mind.”

So, with one last glance over my shoulder to see my parents still wandering around their room acting out scenes from some movie or another, I pivoted to walk out. If it had been hard to respond to the man before, making myself casually walk out of that room as though the two in there were nothing more than a faint curiosity was even worse. That was my mom and dad, and given the situation and what I had just been through with Pencil, what I really wanted to do was throw open the other door and rush in to embrace them. I knew it wouldn't work like that. Of course I knew that. Going in there would end up with me either infected or at least quarantined. There was absolutely no way I could get away with going in that room. It would be the end of everything I had been doing. And yet, some part of me didn't care about any of those details. I just wanted to hug my mom and dad. Stupid as it was, the thought lingered in my head while I gave the doctor another nod and stepped back out into the hall.

I had looked in on them, had managed to see for myself that they were okay. Or at least as okay as they could be under the circumstances. That was going to have to be enough for now. Once we got through this, I would see them again as myself.

Finding the restroom the doctor had pointed out, I beckoned Paige to come help. There was a twofold reason for that. First, I had her help me check for any cameras, just in case. I really didn’t think there would be any, but still. Once we were both certain it was clear, I had her check the bandage itself. She looked it over, assuring me there was nothing untoward in it. Then she helped me get my costume open, both of us grimacing at the cut in it before putting the bandage on. Paige helped me position it properly, sealing the bandage in place before zipping the suit back up. Then she embraced me once more, making me promise to take it easy before we went back out.

Quickly taking a look through the other rooms, aside from the ones the doctors insisted I couldn't step inside because they were protecting secret identities (like Flea/Irelyn and Trivial), I made my way back to the main room with Paige. They had stacked up a few more chairs and tables as blockades by both entrances, the one leading from the main hall, and the back stairwell. Calvin and Hobbes were with a few security guards along with a couple of the Syndicates and Carousel watching those back stairs, while Style and Alloy were with That-A-Way, Raindrop, Wobble, and the other two Syndicates at the front. Paige immediately went off to join that group as well, since it was where we expected the most trouble to come from. After all, the stairwell was a chokepoint. They had to come up only a couple at a time, and turn the corner on the landing below. They would be sitting ducks. But the main hall was open enough for several of them to rush forward together. That was where we needed to concentrate our defenses.

Meanwhile, Qwerty, Trevithick, and that Fragile girl were sitting together off to one side, deep in conversation while the Tech-Touched girl quickly dismantled that big rifle she had been carrying around. I hadn't seen it in action myself, but from what the others had said, the beam it shot out slowed down anyone it struck. Sort of like my yellow paint, but even stronger. They moved at about one-fourth of their usual speed. She was able to use that to give others a much easier time. Now she was taking it apart and doing something with a few tools taken from her pocket, apparently under Qwerty’s direction while Fragile watched with interest.

Pencil, of course, was the most important target in here. Those minions of his were going to do everything in their power to get in and free him. After everything that happened, every murder he was responsible for, we couldn't allow that. This was the best, possibly only chance to actually put that piece of shit in prison where he belonged. Besides, even if we gave him back to them, it wasn’t like they’d stop. That wasn’t the Scions' way. If they freed him, they’d still kill everyone else in here. Not only because that was the sort of thing they did, but also because they wouldn’t stand for the insult. We had imprisoned him. If he’d been telling the truth about having some sort of video transmission of our fight, everyone had seen him lose. They wouldn’t stand for that. They couldn’t stand for it and maintain their reputation. They’d kill everyone.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Some part of me briefly wondered if it might be worth it to lure those guys out of the hospital by getting them to chase me. But I didn't think enough would come. Not when they were actually after Pencil, and it wasn't like I could take him with me and get very far. Besides, the very instant I brought up any such idea, every member of my team would have taken turns smacking me. Even Trevithick and Qwerty. It wouldn't have gone over very well. Not that I could blame them, if I thought about how I would react to anyone else coming up with such an idea. No, we had to sit tight here.

And speaking of sitting tight, a glance toward Pencil showed that he was very much secure, at least for the moment. Someone had found much stronger tape than the scotch version I used, some sort of surgical stuff that kept his fingers straight and separated. He was gagged more securely as well, using gauze and more tape. His wrists were still secured by stay-down cuffs, and someone had added another set to his ankles just in case, while leaving the cloth tying them together as well. The toes of his bare feet were also still taped up, and someone had even used some cord to tie his legs and arms yet again to be triple-sure he wouldn’t be able to get free. He was awake, eyes shifting around from his prone position, but he couldn't say anything or move more than a slight wiggle. And three of the nurses were watching him intently, each holding a gun they had taken from somewhere. From the look on their faces, none of them would mind violating any sort of medical oath (if such would even apply here) if Pencil looked like he was about to squirm his way free. Which the man himself seemed to understand, given how little he was moving. He saw me staring at him then, eyes narrowing. Yeah, if looks could kill, I would probably be a smoldering puddle on the floor. He was not very happy with me. Good, I wasn’t exactly delighted by his existence either. Though I was positively tickled by his current predicament. Assuming we survived this whole thing long enough for the reinforcements to finish securing the building and he actually ended up being put where he belonged, this whole thing might have been worth it in the end. Or so I kept telling myself while pointedly looking away from the man so I could walk up to where Poise had just joined Style, Alloy, That-A-Way, Raindrop, Wobble, and those two Syndicates. “See anything yet?”

Sierra answered without turning around. “A couple of them poked their heads out down at the far end, but we dissuaded them from that.”

One of the translucent Syndicates nodded. “I think they're waiting to have the numbers they need. They've already taken out all the cameras in the area, so we can't keep an eye on them that way. And… and from the calls we’re picking up from cops downstairs, we’re not about to have backup anytime soon.”

Amber muttered softly, “They’re doing their best, but apparently the Scions put down traps, drones, poison gas, all sorts of shit. Anything to slow them down and keep them occupied long enough to get up here.”

“Yeah,” I murmured, turning to glance over my shoulder back at Pencil. “They’re pretty motivated right now.” A sigh escaped me. “And now this place is their primary target.”

“They would’ve been coming up here anyway, whether you brought that fucker or not,” Alloy reminded me.

“Exactly,” Wobble put in, “So don’t be an idiot and start thinking you did anything wrong.”

Beside him, Raindrop piped up, “Yeah, you did the right thing. You made sure they couldn’t just get him right back again.”

Sounding like he wasn’t even sure if he should be speaking up or not, one of the guards, who had been intently watching the hallway ahead, hesitantly agreed. “We were already in trouble, Paintball. Maybe having Pencil here, and vulnerable, will make them hesitate? They can’t just throw bombs down here or anything.” He visibly winced at the very suggestion. “... right?”

“I think so,” I agreed. “That’s a fair point, actually. They don’t know where in here he is, or how vulnerable he actually is now that we’ve secured him. So maybe they’ll have to hold off on any of the nastiest stuff.”

That was one thing to hope for, at least. We needed any help we could get from the sound of things. I still couldn't believe Caishen and the others hadn't managed to secure the building enough yet to reach us. Well, yes, I could believe it. The Scions were incredibly nasty, and they had clearly been planning this for a long time. Of course they had the weapons and traps they needed to stop reinforcements from easily getting in here. But still, I didn't have to like it.

What I did do, however, was start covering all of my teammates as well as the security guards with various colors of paint. Mostly orange for protection, that was where I put the majority of my resources. The longer everyone here could stand up against any of the damage those evil bastards sent at us, the better off we'd be.

The regular security people were curious about the paint, to say the least. They had the general idea, but I had to tell them that it would only activate when I willed it to. I told them that if they were in trouble and needed help, to shout ‘orange’ and I would look that way to turn it on for them. That was the best system I could come up with on short notice.

The fact that I even had time to paint everyone that much worried me. Yes, maybe it was dumb to look a gift horse in the mouth when it came to the situation, but seriously, why hadn't they attacked yet? What were they waiting for? The longer this went on, the more likely we were to get help. Waiting was just helping us. Were they playing games and giving us a false sense of hope? I wouldn't put it past him. A glance toward Pencil wasn't very illuminating. He just stared back at me silently, expression unreadable aside from the hate in his eyes.

I did check on what Trevithick, Qwerty, and Fragile were up to once it was as clear as it could be that we weren't about to be under siege in the next couple seconds. “Hey guys, building anything fun?” I was doing my level best to sound as casual as possible, even though what I really wanted to do was fall down in my bed and sleep for about three days.

Wren immediately hopped up, showing me her rifle. Her voice was bright and chipper. “Qwerty made it better! Now it can slow people down even more, or even speed them up! And it doesn't take as much power, so it'll work longer.” She hesitated then, fidgeting with the gun before focusing on me. “Are we going to be okay?”

Qwerty hopped onto her shoulder before staring at me with the same question in his eyes. And seeing that, realizing how scared the two of them were, I felt even worse about this whole thing. “Don't worry,” I forced myself to say. “You guys just stay over here, and we'll deal with whatever comes down that hall. We've got this.”

“He does!” That was Fragile, the glass girl popping up behind Wren to whisper something in her ear, which made all three of them, Qwerty included, giggle. Apparently they were already getting along pretty well. Then she focused on me. “He’s Paintball, he saves people.”

There was more behind her words, a lot more. It seemed like she wanted to say something else but stopped herself. And before I could respond, she had already darted off to join the people at the back stairs.

Wren insisted I take the upgraded gun and give it to one of the others to use. I was in the middle of heading over to do that when a shout went up that made me spin around and dash back to the front. Sure enough, Cup was standing there right in the middle of the front hall. Yes, Cup. She was awake, completely unmasked and undisguised, and had her empty hands raised. Seeing us staring, she waved and called out, “I just want to talk, I don't want to hurt any of you, or any of your patients. Pinky swear. Besides, you've got all the guns, and my power only works on one person at a time.”

“You really expect us to be stupid enough to let you anywhere near us?!” Wobble called out with what was probably a look of disbelief toward the rest of us. Not that we could see his face, but the body language said enough.

At the same time, one of the Syndicates was murmuring that he’d told his other selves to keep the people by the rear stairwell in position and alert, just in case this was a distraction.

“Well, you don’t have to,” Cup replied while keeping her hands raised, “but either you let me come talk to you and see my brother, or you can fight all my friends back there. I promise, they’re very eager to come say hi. You really don’t have anything to lose. You know I can’t teleport out of the building.” She paused for a moment before adding, “Look, I’d swear on something more effective than my pinkie, but I don’t think you’d care. Just look at it this way, you can either let me come in, which gives your friends downstairs more time to get up here, or I can step aside and let my friends charge in so you get to fight after all.”

I really didn't believe she didn't mean anyone any harm, or that she couldn't have some pretty nasty tricks. But she was right about stalling working in our favor, so I shrugged at the others. “What do you think?”

Raindrop hesitantly offered, “If she comes in she can be a prisoner too. That might make the other Scions stop, if they lose both their leaders.”

“I don’t trust it,” Way noted, “she’s up to something.”

“Oh she’s definitely up to something,” Wobble agreed, “but if we don’t let her come in, I think it’ll be worse.”

We debated for another few seconds, before settling on the only real choice there was. Syndicate held his hand out that way and called, “You can come in, but one wrong move, and you'll be in the same position as your brother!”

As she slowly made her way forward, I looked that way. And for once, I saw confusion and disbelief on his face. He was just as baffled as we were about why she was here, or even how she was awake. I wondered if they had made up the entire thing about her being infected, but apparently not. So had they found a cure or something? I was so lost.

Cup came right past the guards as they moved the barriers, keeping her hands raised while everyone stared at her, weapons ready. Her eyes shifted around to look at all of us with a faint smile before settling on me. “I didn't expect you to win that fight, Paintball.” She actually sounded impressed rather than angry, which was even more strange. All of this was strange. What the hell was going on?

“If you're here to say you'll let everyone go in exchange for releasing your brother--” I started, figuring that’s what her angle had to be.

Cup, however, interrupted. “Now why would I want you to go and do that when I worked so hard to manipulate him into giving up all his defenses and trapping himself so he’d finally be vulnerable?”

Everyone in the room, including Pencil himself, barely had time to process what she was saying before her hand moved. Faster than anyone could react, a gun appeared there and she fired. But she wasn't shooting me, or any of my team, or any of the doctors. She fired once, and a single hole appeared in the center of her brother’s forehead before he collapsed.

Pencil was dead. Killed by Cup.