“We're not doing anything?” I demanded, glaring at Gallant. He put his hands up.

“That's not what I said,” he replied calmly. “We're not attacking the villains, we don't have the resources right now. We're stretched thin enough as it is.”

“It's going to be worse if we let them take ground,” I countered, gesturing to the screen. I was stuck on console duty the second day in a row.

“They'll have to fight each other to do it,” Gallant argued right back. “That's going to take time and leave them weak when we do have the resources to go on the offensive.”

“And what if something worse comes?” I asked, crossing my arms. “I don't think the Slaughterhouse Nine are going anywhere without a fight.”

“They haven't surfaced yet.” He shook his head and sighed. “Look, I'm no happier than you are, but this is how it's being played. We still need you with us.” I frowned.

“I'm with you,” I said. “Like, it's just this is dumb.”

“Just be patient,” Gallant replied. “And keep your ears on. Gotta go.” I nodded and he turned, heading to the elevator and up to get ready for his patrol.

I sighed and stared at the blinking dots of heroes on the map. Once again, it was mostly quiet. Assault and Weld had tangled with Stormtiger and Cricket earlier, but they'd chased them off easily enough. The Merchants were causing trouble, but with no villains involved or heroes reasonably close, the regular cops were handling it. At least, until they called us for help.

One team in Skitter's territory, just being seen, another nearby Dolltown where Ballistic had set up. And me here, with nothing to do until they called me. I didn't want to go browsing 4chan or PHO again, I had been pushing it as it was yesterday. The warning for 'masks' sounded and I quickly pulled up my hood and face covering. A moment later, Flechette stepped out of the elevator.

I waved to her and, after a few unsteady steps, she returned it shakily. She walked past without a word and I winced. Bad patrol, no doubt. I'd hear about it later, after she woke up and submitted her report probably. For now, I contented myself to listening in on the police channel while I waited for a call.

Waiting was the worst part. It always had been, but now it seemed that much more awful. Part of it had to be the knowledge that, in a day or two, the Slaughterhouse Nine would be making their nominations. I couldn't prevent it, but once it happened I could start responding a little better. From that point, I could roughly puzzle out the next few days...from one, distant point of view at least.

Metaknowledge, it turned out, was worth very little when the girl it came from was currently working against you. At least I knew the gist of what was coming, even if it made my stomach churn. Having it all sprung on me...yeah, that'd be worse. It was still going to be a miserable mess to slog through. At least it'd give me a chance to put my powers to good use, if they didn't keep me benched anyway.

I felt a flash of annoyance. They'd lost every Ward who could take a real hit, and even after replacements only had me and Weld. Now, with villains moving and S-class threats jumping in, I was side-lined instead of getting into the fray. Sure, if I flinched I was fucked, but if I didn't then I could take blows literally no one else could. And when it came down to it, I could always try again...

I shivered. What the fuck was I thinking? Six times apparently wasn't enough for me to start fearing death again. If I was smart, I'd be enjoying my guaranteed safety. I guess I'd always been a bit of a dumbass when it came to stuff like this, but this seemed ridiculous. I frowned, staring at the slowly moving dots on screen.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

I was a parahuman, just like them. Like them, I had an alien parasite in my head that was prodding me towards fighting. Being aware of it didn't make it easier, hell for me it was that much worse. I already preferred fight over flight, having something that fed that impulse was dangerous. And unlike all my personal baggage that a therapist stood a chance of fixing, nothing would help this besides ripping the thing out.

I wouldn't do that. As long as I was stuck here, I was better off with superpowers than without. To say nothing of the major brain damage from removing something that major, at least this way I could take a hit when my or its conflict drive got us in trouble. Besides, there was a single cape on the planet that had the skills to do anything like that. She'd be here soon, but I doubted she would oblige...

I sighed and rested my chin on my hand, staring blankly at the screen. What a mess. Was this shit why I felt so fucking determined to go and bash my head against an Endbringer until one of us broke? That made sense, but I wasn't about to discount my own stupidity as part of the formula. After all, I had plenty of agency here, arguably too much.

I bounced my foot against the ground impatiently. Conflict drive aside, console duty was just dull. I answered a check in from Battery, gave directions to Triumph, and spun around a few times in my chair. Nothing to do but wait, wait, and wait a little while longer. I jumped as Flechette suddenly flopped down into the chair next to me. Glancing over I found her resting her head on the desk, face buried in her arms. She didn't say a word though, maybe just wanted some company while she snoozed. Fine by me, I had work anyway.

“Hey,” she spoke up after a couple minutes of silence. I glanced over and found her head turned towards me, eyes looking away. “Um, how are you?” I blinked.

“Uh, fine,” I replied after a confused second. “What's up?” My eyes flicked back to the screen for a second. Still nothing, fortunately.

“Oh nothing just...” Flechette waved her hand around vaguely. “We've like, never talked.” Oh, huh.

“I guess not,” I replied with a shrug. “How's it going?” She shrugged back, wincing.

“Got thrown around by Skidmark,” she complained, sitting up and rolling a shoulder. “Down by the mall, he and Squealer were setting up...something.” Flechette shook her head. “We tangled, then retreated. It...sucks.” I nodded.

“Amen,” I replied easily. “It all sucks.” I glared at the highlighting marks around Skitter's territory.

“We'll beat them,” Flechette reassured me with a warm smile. “The villains around here are tough, but nothing special. Trust me.” I looked back at her sadly. If only.

“Wish I could share your confidence,” I said, making my tone flat, like I was just being pessimistic. “I think it'll be a long time.”

“I hope not.” She grimaced. “No offense, I just...miss New York, you know?”

“Never been,” I replied. “Is it nice?”

“It's...home,” Flechette said slowly. “It's got problems, but every city does you know?” I nodded at the monitor, making her wince again. Shit.

“Sorry,” I apologized, shaking my head. I actually wanted to get along with my team. “It's probably nice. Maybe I can visit once...once all this is done.” Not likely, considering where she'd end up.

“That'd be cool,” Flechette said with a yawn. “I could introduce you to Jouster.”

“Who's he?” I asked, cocking my head.

“Our captain, same as Gallant is here.” She smiled. “He's a great leader, really smart, and kind. He taught me a lot about being a hero, I think you'd like him.” I couldn't help but smile.

“Cool. Well then, promise me you'll introduce us?” Her smile widened and her cheeked darkened a little.

“You bet,” she replied. Flechette sat up suddenly, stretching out. “Okay, I'm gonna go get some real shut-eye. It was nice talking to you, Amaranth.”

“You too, Flechette, really.” I leaned back in my seat. I'd never thought much of her but, well, she seemed pretty alright.

“Call me Lily,” she replied smoothly. “At least, without this thing on.” She tossed her mask up and down, catching it.

“Then call me Amelia,” I said. “Or Lia, for short.”

“Amelia,” Flechette, or Lily, said it like she was trying it out. “No relation to another Amy we know?” I blushed and shook my head. None that I'd admit to, even under torture. “Well anyway, g'night Lia.”

“Good morning, Lily.” I chuckled as she stood and walked away, flipping me off.

I turned my attention back to Brockton Bay, or the map that was on screen in front of me at least. Things were fairly quiet, at least as quiet as it ever got. No cries for help in my ears, no alerts on the monitor, the calm before the storm.

When it broke, I hoped I'd make it to the cellar.