“Does this all seem acceptable to you?”

I read the papers in front of me for the fifth time. It was just black on white text, mostly written out in fluent legalese. It certainly wasn't the worst contract I'd read, they at least gave me a glossary for all the shit that they laid out. Beside me, a pinch-faced woman stared across the table at the collection of heroes and bureaucrats coldly, almost disdainfully. I had a feeling she joined the Youth Guard for a very specific reason...

“We keep telling you to simplify the language,” she bit out, her voice steely. “People like Amaranth aren't lawyers or paralegals.”

“That's what the glossary is for,” Piggot replied flatly.

“It's fine,” I said, scanning the last line. I sighed. “Yeah it seems okay. I'm...not too jazzed about giving up my pistols...”

“Minors cannot legally posses firearms,” Miss Militia said, for the third time. I had complained...a bit already. “Besides, you'll be provided with less-lethal weapons and the training to use them. You won't lack for protection.” Another sigh.

“Yeah yeah.” I had sort-of been looking forward to trying one. I'd never shot pistols much, never anything above a 9mm. Guess I wouldn't be any time soon. “I'm still not looking forward to going up against armed gangsters with a pepper spray and a taser.” I had to abide, I didn't have to be happy about it.

“If there isn't a problem,” Piggot said, gesturing to me. “Then please sign. We do have other appointments.”

“Toeing the line, director,” the Youth Guard woman said coldly.

“Not crossing it, Stanford,” she snapped back.

“It's fine,” I said, quickly signing my name. Almost my old name, deadname, whatever, but I skated by. “There, done. Um, so now what?” Stanford took the papers from me and signed them quickly, then passed them to Piggot.

“Now,” she said with a sigh, signing on the dotted line. “You return to your quarters, because tomorrow you start training.”

“That soon?” Stanford didn't sound happy.

“Look outside,” the director said flatly. “I wish she made this decision last week, frankly.”

“Sorry,” I said, wincing.

“It's alright,” Gallant said, smiling at me. “Looking forward to working with you, Amaranth.”

“Likewise,” I lied through my teeth. This was necessary... “See you.”

We left, Stanford following close behind me. The PRT escort had been dismissed, considering I was now legally part of them. I scratched my head through the balaclava, huffing out a breath. I was overwarm, overwhelmed, and so was jittery. As much as I tried to focus, I could feel my projection twitch in sympathy with my slightly shaking shoulders.

“Amaranth,” Stanford spoke as we walked, her voice soft and gentle. “We only had a chance to speak briefly, and I apologize for that. May I ask some questions while we walk?” I nodded quickly. Better to get it over with. “Thank you. First, how are your quarters?” I shrugged.

“Fine, it's where we're headed,” I replied simply. “You can take a look if you want. Nothing special but...” I shrugged again.

“And food is provided? Clothing?” I nodded. “Well, at least they're doing the bare minimum.” From her tone of voice, I figured that wasn't always the case.

“It's really okay,” I said, hiding the tension in my chest as I unlocked my door. “It's um, better than where I've been.” Stanford nodded slowly, a sad look on her face.

“I'm glad that is the case,” she said neutrally, glancing past me as I opened the door. “Ah, one of these. I'm familiar. Do you need anything else, at all?”

“Can you get me a gun?” I asked, half-joking. Her frown deepened and I sighed. “I'm fine, really. Um, can I offer you anything? Coffee, bread?”

“I'm alright, thank you.” Stanford turned and stepped away, but paused and glanced over her shoulder. “Take care of yourself, Amaranth.”

“I will.” I stepped inside. Another lie to the tally...

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

The man in black armour stood in front of me, brandishing a wicked looking knife. I swallowed as he approached and stabbed out, freezing in place. The knife struck and stopped, and I grabbed his arm before he could draw back. I held it still, tightening my grip until he cried out and dropped the blade. It clattered to the floor and I let him stumble back, glaring at me.

“Amaranth,” Assault snapped from the side of the ring. “You need to block.”

“Why?” I huffed, crossing my arms. “As long as I stand still, I literally can't be hurt. If I move to block...” I trailed off and shrugged. I probably wouldn't get hurt as long as I focused, but why chance it?

“I can think of a dozen reasons, but I'll give you three.” He held up a finger and began counting grimly. “First, blocking properly puts you in a position for a counter-strike. B, it let's you be prepared to block a follow up attack.” I resisted the urge to point out, once again, I was invincible...mostly. “Finally, it'll make people think you know what you're doing, so they think twice about doing it again.” I grimaced and sighed.

“Okay,” I said, turning back to the glowering goon in black. “Try again?” He drew and flicked out a long baton. I settled back into a fighting stance.

“Legs wider,” Assault barked. “Arms up, guard your head.”

“That's what the projection is for!” I groaned, but dutifully did as I was ordered. “Okay, come on.”

The swing went low, towards my stomach. I almost didn't move, but belatedly knocked my arm into it as I tried to stop it. It glanced off the bottom of my elbow and struck home in my side, doing nothing. I pressed my arm to my side, trapping his weapon there. My other hand came up as he tried to break free, fist clenched tight and swinging towards his head. It stopped as soon as it made contact, only making the guy flinch.

“Hold,” Assault said sharply, hopping into the ring as I let the guy who was doing my testing go. He didn't look happy about being unable to actually do anything. “What happened?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, cocking my head. “You're the one that mentioned a counter-strike, I just...gave it a try.”

“And it didn't do anything,” he said.

“Uhh, probably my power.” I shrugged, remembering the log six lives ago. “It stops things from hitting me, stops me from hitting other things though. At least, hard enough to hurt.” He made a thoughtful noise.

“Wish you'd mentioned this earlier,” Assault said and sighed. “Let's forget strikes then. What do you know about grappling?” I groaned again.

It was going to be a long day.

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

“No.”

“We'd just like you to consider it.”

“Okay.” I paused, staring at a tired looking woman who was apparently my image designer. “Fuck no.”

“Amaranth,” she groaned. “I need you to work with me here. What exactly is the problem?”

“It's pink.” She rolled her eyes and I narrowed mine. “Look, I get everyone around here just wears dull-ass colours, but come on.” I gestured to the palette on her screen. “It's too saturated, too neon.”

“It's amaranth,” she stressed and I rolled my eyes.

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“No one is going to get that,” I countered. “Here, can I just...” I pointed to the mouse and keyboard.

She pushed them over to me and I pulled up the colour wheel. I took a minute to just...play around, looking at what different combinations looked like on the draft she had made. At least I'd made her compromise, the first edition made my curves look way too curvy. I hummed and hawed before finally settling on a slightly redder, less saturated shade. More pleasing to look at, at least to me.

“That's not bad,” she said, adding a bit more brightness. Then a bit more saturated. I tapped my chin.

“What about,” I began slowly. “A pattern?”

“Oh?” She leaned in with a smile. “I thought you were against them.”

“I didn't want a big logo,” I clarified. “But...what about little amaranth blossoms in that brighter colour against the darker one?”

“Oh! Gimme a sec!” She took the monitor back, grabbed a stylus from her desk, and began drawing. Twenty minutes later, she turned it around. “Thoughts?”

“Can you make the petals smaller?” I asked, pointing to the space between flowers. “Think camouflage.”

“It's red and pink.”

“I thought it was amaranth.”

We shared a smile and kept working.

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

My legs cramped and I fell to my knees, projection snapping back to my skin and shivering with my as my muscles seized. My thigh felt like it was on fire where the barbs of the taser had struck. I twisted my neck painfully, looking up as a tall figure in fatigues.

“You okay?” Miss Militia asked, holding out a hand. I took it and rose on shaky legs.

“Fi-- fine,” I stammered as I nearly bit my tongue. Dammit. “That uh, ow.” She nodded.

“Mandatory to carry one of these or a stun gun,” she replied. “Come on and sit down.” I did, again leaning on her as I staggered into a chair.

“Better than the OC spray,” I said with a grim chuckle. Now that was pain. “At least I can clear my eyes with my projection.”

“Can you?” I nodded. “Interesting.”

“They thought so too,” I said, smiling behind my balaclava. “I'm just glad that usually I'm straight immune.”

“Indeed.” She glanced away, then back at me. “How are you...settling?” I shrugged.

“It's fine,” I replied. The initial trepidation had gone as I got back into the rhythm of things. That was what I was afraid of but...oh well. “Just...trying to get ready for the big day, you know?” I gave a hollow chuckle that neither of us believed.

“It's alright to be afraid,” Miss Militia said, leaning in and lowering her voice. “Most of us were. Same with fitting in, it takes time and effort.”

“I guess I should introduce myself to them,” I said with a sigh. “Like, properly and not just a passing 'hello'.”

“It's a good idea to get to know your teammates.” She cocked her head to the side. “For however long you're with them.” I nodded, trying to fight back the feeling of guilt. I'd fucking joined the heroes, what more did I have to do?!

“Sure, maybe...maybe after the announcement?”

“Before would be better.”

“I...” I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. “You're right. Dammit.” I rose from the chair, then quickly sat down as my legs nearly gave out. “Okay just...give me a minute.”

It wound up being nearly ten. My legs were still sore and I had the weirdest twitch in my lower back that wasn't going away. And my heart was still racing...which was a little concerning, but I struggled on. Maybe I ought to talk to Panacea, but I hadn't seen her since we watched Miko no Abyss together. I wasn't sure when I'd get to see her, considering what was coming...eventually.

I still wasn't sure when the Nine would roll into town. I hadn't heard anything about murder scenes with trios of bodies, but I wasn't fully in on the loop yet. They'd crammed my schedule full of training, much of it physical, to prepare me for what I'd be facing in the field. No time to join briefings when I had to slowly walk someone into a pretzel for the umpteenth time.

That was something we'd discovered about my projection. When I grabbed someone with a proper grip and started moving, they were forced along with me. Sort of, they could resist, but all I had to do was hold still til they tired themselves out, then go again. It could be a slow process, my quickest time was twenty seconds so far, but undeniably effective. As long as I could get a grip.

Which was what all this was about. Pepper spray and a taser to make them more...malleable, so to speak. Just, to carry them, I had to feel them. It wasn't really that bad, no worse than CBRN training in the army. Screaming my service number in a room full of CS gas... Truly an experience of all time.

We got into the fancy elevator down to the Ward's quarters and it began descending. My stomach flipped as it did. Oh god, I was going to be working with these guys...for the foreseeable future. Fuck, they were going to want to see my face. Was that okay? I mean, Amy already knew, and Gallant probably knew. I guessed. If he saw emotion maybe everyone looked unique, I couldn't say for sure but it was possible. They might unmask to me too, so it wasn't like it was uneven. That and we'd be on the same side. I took a deep breath as the doors opened and made a decision.

“Amaranth,” Gallant called, standing up from a small table. “Hey, good to see you, how's it going?” I looked past him and saw Vista and Weld sitting at another table further in.

“Fine,” I replied tensely, stepping out of the elevator. “Just came from training. Um, is this...everyone?” Gallant shook his head.

“Kid Win's in his workshop,” he answered. “Shadow Stalker's having a nap, Clockblocker and Flechette are out on patrol and...well, that's about it.”

“Would you...” I swallowed. “Can you grab them? I uh, want to introduce myself.” His smile grew.

“Give me one second.”

I walked a little further in as he invited me to follow. I stopped at the table the other two Wards were sat at, taking a seat of my own. We exchanged a short greeting and then fell silent, waiting for Gallant to return. I did my best to not disturb...whatever they were doing. Some kind of puzzle, by the looks? I didn't have the chance to look, since Gallant returned just before I could work up the courage to ask.

“Hey, thanks for waiting,” he said, taking a seat and smiling. “Well, this is everyone that's around.” I glanced over and saw a curious looking Kid Win, and an annoyed looking Shadow Stalker, staring at me.

“Okay cool.” I took a deep breath, steeling my nerves and gathering my thoughts. “Um, so, hey guys. I think I've seen a couple of you around before, or trained with you, but we haven't really been introduced, So...hi. My name's Amaranth, and I'll be working with you for a while. I uh, hope we get along?” There was a beat of silence.

“Nice to meet you,” the metal-skinned Ward said with a smile. “I think we already met a couple weeks back, but I'm Weld. Used to be out of Boston but, well, you guys needed me more.” I nodded, it was true.

“Vista,” she said after Weld was done, looking me over. “You were at the Endbringer fight, weren't you?” I nodded.

“Yup,” I answered simply.

“Didn't you get your powers like, a week before?” Kid Win asked. I guess word of me had got around.

“Something like that,” I replied. I didn't want to give them the wrong impression.

“You took a hit for Aegis,” Vista said with an odd note in her voice. “Right? You had that blue scarf on your head?” I shrugged.

“I took a lot of hits.” And a lot worse. “Maybe I did, but that wasn't the point.” Not entirely.

“Saved me,” Gallant said with a shrug and a smile, gently patting my shoulder.

“I had to,” I replied flatly. Frankly, I didn't want to think about Leviathan at all... “Anyway, take it easy on me, I guess.” I finished lamely, shrugging.

“No one gets it easy,” Shadow Stalker groused, glaring at me. It felt like a glare anyway.

“Planning on getting quarters down here?” Weld asked, expertly changing the subject. I shrugged again.

“Might do,” I said, cocking my head. “Not sure how much I want to give up my own though. No offense.”

“None taken, beds suck down here,” Kid Win said lightly. I looked at each Ward in turn. My heart racing as I slipped my fingers under the lip of my balaclava.

“Well, if we're working together for a while, you'll probably see me anyway...” I began slowly, peeling up my mask. I wasn't sure why it made my heart pound as hard as it did, but here we were. The cool air of the Wards' quarters met my skin, and I gave them all a weak smile. “I'm Amelia, call me Lia because--”

“Because calling you 'Amy' would be too confusing,” Gallant finished, smiling warmly. I suppressed a flash of annoyance at having the rug pulled from under me, and the fear of him knowing how I introduced myself to Amy... He pulled off his helmet, revealing a handsome-looking white boy beneath. “Dean Stansfield, nice to meet you properly.” I took and shook the hand he extended.

“Missy,” Vista said, raising her visor. She looked tired... “Vista's fine though.” I nodded and glanced at Kid Win as he took off his own mask.

“Chris,” he said shortly. “I'm uh, the resident Tinker. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” I replied, then glanced at Shadow Stalker.

“Not unmasking to a fucking Nazi,” she growled, glowering at me. I flinched, taken aback by the venom she spat it with.

“What the fu--”

“Out of line, Stalker.”

“Shadow Stalker wh--”

“Shut up,” I snapped, silencing them. I cocked my head, meeting her gaze. “Shadow Stalker, I'm not a fucking Nazi. My mo-- my background fucking sucks, and if I knew about it I'd have been out a long time before I was.” Probably. “I don't really care how you feel about me, just don't slip a knife between my ribs and we're golden.” She stared at me, silent and menacing. I stared back evenly, unintimidated. Sophia was a violent kid, but right now there were better targets.

“Whatever,” she spat after a moment. “Stay the fuck away from me, little miss reich.” Without another word, she turned and left. I sighed, but really it was too much to hope that she'd be able to look past that on day one.

“Sorry about her,” Gallant said after she was out of earshot. “She's...”

“She's a black girl in Nazitown, USA,” I said dryly as he trailed off. “I didn't exactly expect her to be my friend. Like I said, it's fine.” He and the others looked uncomfortable, but eventually Dean nodded.

“We'll try and coordinate so you two don't patrol together,” he said hesitantly, earning a shrug.

“Fine by me.” I didn't like Sophia at the best of times, and we certainly weren't in those. “What I said to her goes for everyone too. I'm not a Nazi, but if you've got a problem with...with my history, then fine, valid even. Just give me a chance.” My shoulders slumped. I thought it had been going well.

“I can do that,” Vista said, offering me a half-smile. “If you fucked up Hookwolf, you can't be all bad.”

“You haven't seemed bad when we've met,” Weld continued, shrugging. “Don't see why I shouldn't.”

“I don't even know you,” Kid Win blurted, then glanced aside. “Um, but, just...don't be a Nazi and we're cool.” I smirked.

“Thanks,” I said, letting out a long, slow breath. “Thank you guys, really. Um, see you tomorrow?”

“Oh right,” Gallant snapped his fingers. I wasn't sure how he managed through his gloves. “The debut, that's tomorrow.” I nodded. “Most of us will be on patrol, but I'm sure a couple of us will show up.” I saw nodding heads and smiled a little.

“Cool.” I said, pulling my balaclava back on. “Okay, I'm gonna go lie down. Tasers hurt.” And so did my legs.

“Have a good rest,” Gallant said warmly as I returned to the elevator and the waiting Miss Militia. “And hey, looking forward to working with you.”

“You too,” I replied lamely as the doors of the elevator slid shut.

“That seemed to go well,” Miss Militia commented as we rose.

“You think so?” She nodded. “I guess. I hope they can look past the...the Nazis shit.”

“Don't,” she said gently. “They'll see you're a hero, in due time.”

“I guess.”

I wish I felt I had any to spare.