I sat in the back of a three-quarter ton truck, rhythmically tapping my foot against the back. Assault was in the lead truck of the convoy of ten, Gallant in the rear, and me stuck in the middle. A nervous looking National Guardsman sat across from me, clutching an old looking M16A1. Of course I hadn't been allowed to bring a pistol, a condition of my working with the Protectorate as an independent, but all the guardsmen had rifles...

He glanced at me occasionally, never lingering for long. I tried to keep my head moving as much as I could. Something I had always been afraid of was fighting in a city. Hundred-storey buildings with thousands of windows that were practically opaque from the outside. A literal hell for getting ambushed.

Here, at least, we weren't fighting some dug in paramilitary from West Asia. All we had to do was get these supplies from outside the city to a distribution center downtown. Theoretically, a twenty minute drive from the staging ground a few miles past Captain's Hill. With the conditions, it had already been two hours and we'd been stuck twice. It was only in the last mile when things got bad.

“Contact ri--!” The scream was cut off by the crash of a rock slamming into the engine of the lead truck.

We scrambled from the trucks as more than a dozen screaming men and women in makeshift armour charged. I flicked out the baton I had been given, parried a blow from a cleaver by standing still, then clubbed my assailant twice over the head. He went down in a heap, and I gave him a kick in the ribs for good measure.

I heard the guardsman I'd been with scream and looked over to see his arm bleeding from a nasty wound. The woman who'd done it cackled, until I stepped over and slammed my baton into her stomach, then her nose. She collapse and I helped the soldier get his personal first-aid kit out, then returned to the fight.

It was strange, the way I needed to fight. I stared straight at my opponents as they obligingly hit me and held still in shock while I beat them to hell. It would almost be comical, if my heart wasn't hammering in my chest so hard I thought it would burst. Even though I hadn't taken a hit, I felt sick. Hooo, I needed to get used to this. I took a deep breath and forced myself on.

The shriek of metal on metal drew my gaze and I saw Hookwolf tearing into the truck just behind mine. Looking further, I saw Gallant tangling with a pair who must have been capes, considering the battering he seemed to be taking. In the opposite direction, Assault was being continuously pelted by all manner of debris, trying to save the supplies. Well, everyone else was occupied...

I charged at Hookwolf, focusing on keeping my projection tightly wrapped to my skin. I wasn't sure if I could actually do anything to him, much like with Leviathan, but was willing to try. He wasn't nearly as frightening as an Endbringer, though I felt my stomach flip as I ran forward. The lupine shape of whirling blades turned on me with the snarl of grinding steel.

He swung a limb at me and I froze. The blow struck and I felt a feeling like sandpaper as his blender of an arm/leg hit tried and failed to find purchase. He snarled and hit again, with no effect. I stepped forward, lashing out at a baleful eye with my baton. The weapon was shredded, but it made Hookwolf pull away. Made you flinch, bitch.

I was suddenly engulfed, surrounded by shrieking metal and saw-like teeth. I felt myself lift-off and be shaken, and suddenly a stabbing pain in my nose and the sound of tearing fabric. I grit my teeth and focused, as best as I could in the literal jaws of the beast. I could feel Hookwolf bite down harder, trying to crush me and failing. Blades dulled and snapped as they tried to force themselves through my projection.

I curled myself into a ball, feeling a scraping feeling against me as I did. No pain, except from my nose which felt like it was bleeding. I ignored it and planted my feet and hands firmly on the roof of Hookwolf's mouth and his 'tongue'. With a grunt, I began to push my projection against him, resisting the crushing of his jaws.

He didn't budge, if anything it actually got harder to push against him. There was a sudden scream of tortured steel as my arms and legs suddenly pushed through. I wasn't sure if I suddenly got super-strength or if Hookwolf had just bitten down harder than he could handle, but the results were the same. He howled in pain and spat me out.

I struck the ground with a grunt, quickly rising and looking at the damage I'd caused. The holes in his jaw were already filling with more whirling metal, and he glared at me with eyes that burned hatefully. I wiped my face and winced as I saw a streak of blood on my projection. I frowned and raised my hand to my face, gently patting it.

Stolen novel; please report.

Oh shit.

I scrambled away and found a scrap of fabric, the remains of the covering of one truck or another, and tied it around my exposed face. My nose burned, and I worried part of it was missing, but pushed through and took a fighting stance again. Hookwolf stood on all fours, growling and stalking around me as the sounds of battle clamoured around us.

“Hold!” A shout made both Hookwolf and I freeze. A scowling man in red and black ran over, between Hookwolf and I. He stared at me, and his face seemed to soften. “You, you're Carol's girl aren't you?”

I stiffened and my eyes widened. How the fuck did he know my mom? And on top of that, who the fuck was he? A Nazi, obviously, one of Hookwolf's little group of terrorists. He'd taken the lion's share of the Empire's old capes, and I guess this was one of them.

“Who the fuck wants to know?” I bit out after I got over my shock.

“My name is Victor.” He took a step forward and I took one back, a chill going up my spine. I didn't have a lot of skills to steal, but was loathe to lose what little I had. “Why are you working with the enemy?”

“The enemy?!” I shouted bitterly, knitting my brows together. “You're stealing humanitarian aid!”

“To aid those the government won't,” Victor countered calmly.

“Because you're Nazis.”

“What happened to you, Lia?” I shivered at the familiarity in his voice. “I thought your mother raised you better.” Maybe it was a good thing the heroes took my gun, because I'd have shot him if I had it.

“Hey!” A yell made all our heads turn. A sphere of glowing, golden light struck Victor in the face and staggered him.

Gallant ran to my side, accompanied by four soldiers and half a dozen PRT troopers. Where the hell had they been? Evidently fighting off everyone else, or more likely the ones that had been here were either dead or incapacitated. They began fending off Victor and Hookwolf, with containment foam and automatic rifle fire respectively.

Within a few minutes, the Nazis had been driven off and we had a chance to count our losses. No one dead, through sheer luck no doubt, but more than a dozen severely wounded. My nose bled through the fabric before it finally stopped, and Assault gave me a sympathetic look when he came back to check on me.

They hadn't managed to steal too much, of the supplies that hadn't been destroyed only a few bits and bobs were missing. I could hardly believe it, but here we were. It did seem they'd been focused on fighting more than theft though... Well, their problem, not mine. No, I had bigger concerns.

Like how Victor, Hookwolf's fucking lieutenant, knew my mom and knew me. I was sat down in one of the intact trucks and stared at the cracked asphalt as we began moving again. I glanced over and saw the trooper I'd helped with his attacker, cradling his wounded arm and looking at me fearfully. Considering what he'd just seen, I'd look at me the same way.

The rest of the journey went without incident, and soon we arrived at the distribution center. We were down a couple trucks, but got to work right away in handing things out to the murmuring crowd. Here there were far more PRT troopers and guardsmen, but they were vastly outnumbered by the needy. Fortunately, no one wanted to challenge the guys with guns. This time.

I leaned against one of the trucks once we'd finished, breathing hard. I hadn't been able to calm down since the fight, my heart still hammering in my chest and in my ears. Sweat dried on my brow, only for more to begin dripping down. It didn't help that the weather was crazy humid and it made breathing through my makeshift mask utterly miserable. The suspension of the truck bounced and I looked up to see Gallant sitting there, his armour glistening in the afternoon light.

“Good work Amaranth,” he said, a smile in his synthesized voice. “How's the nose?”

“Hurts,” I muttered, tugging at the fabric over my face and wincing. My projection prevented damage, but even the minor sensations it gave me hurt. “You good?”

“A little bruised up, but fine,” he replied easily. “That's what they get for sending Cricket and Stormtiger after me.”

“Oh is that who you were fighting?” I hadn't recognized either of them, but the guy in the tiger mask probably should have been obvious... “Uh, good work then.”

“Thanks,” Gallant replied. I was content to let the conversation die and try to keep calming down but-- “Are you okay? You seem a bit...shaken.” I glowered at him.

“I just got eaten by Hookwolf,” I said bitterly. I really didn't want to talk about what Victor had said, not until I figured out what to do about it. “Give me a break.”

“Sorry,” he apologized, chuckling dryly. “If you're worried about the nose, I can always put in a good word with Panacea.” I shook my head.

“She's busy as hell,” I said, knowing putting more pressure on her now would be...bad. “It'll be fine, ugly maybe but fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very,” I snapped, then took a deep breath. “Sorry, I'm just...coping.” And poorly at that.

“You know the Wards offer counselling.” My glower turned to an angry glare and he held up his hands. “Sorry, sorry, I know.” I sighed and shook my head.

“It's fine,” I said, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. “It's fine, really.” Much as I hated being evangelized at, Gallant was trying to help. He was just...clumsy.

Fuck. Even if I wasn't part of the Wards...I probably should let them know about that. Maybe it was stupid, hasty and poorly thought out. It wouldn't be the first thing. It wouldn't be the last. We were on the same side though, definitely against the Nazis at least. I didn't know what to do, and Hookwolf had just shown me that I still wasn't invincible, so...

“Gallant,” I said, taking a trembling breath and forcing down the sick feeling of nerves in my stomach. “I...need to tell you about something.”