Like usual, usual for the one time I'd done it, the Undersiders never attacked us. My predictions were taken at their word, and I heard nothing else about them. That was a relief, at least now that I knew they wouldn't tell me about successful predictions. Assholes. Either way, I was just happy they didn't bench me more than normal.

A boring day on console, watching Taylor and her fellow warlords make their plays for power. Nothing I could do about that, and I knew the heroes wouldn't either. Battery had been there the first time and did nothing to stop her. No point in making predictions for things they wouldn't act on.

The fact that Shadow Stalker wasn't kidnapped was, at this point, enough for me. I'd heard enough of her screaming in pain to last twenty or so lifetimes, which hopefully I wouldn't have to burn through. If I could let her avoid something, then that was a good deed as far as I was concerned. Bitch that she was, she didn't deserve that much. Now I just had to survive Mannequin's attack on Armsmaster tomorrow, then Bonesaw the next day. After that...

Fuck, what happened after that? It was a half-remembered blur. I knew there was a meeting between all the villains and the Protectorate, Shatterbird still had to attack at some point too. After that it was Amyquest, through and through. I'd do my damndest to convince the heroes to let me go looking for her, and if they said no...

It wasn't like they could really stop me. I could slip away on a patrol, in a fight, even just go from here when I was off duty and...leave. It was a last resort, of course. I wasn't confident in my chances of survival with the Nine in town. Considering three of their members had already killed me, I was sure the others would manage somehow. Having allies meant less chance of getting zeroed in the first five seconds of shit. But stopping Amy was important enough to chance it.

All of that was tomorrow's problem though. Right now I had to focus so I could actually make it there. I still had a patrol to do, a night out with Gallant. It was weird that my schedule changed so much without me doing anything to like...actually change it. Were these less like loops and more like randomized chances, or was it because I kept doing different things? Or was it something else entirely?\ It didn't totally matter, all I could do was respond accordingly. It bugged me to hell; I could make changes but doing that fucked me over in the future since things changed. Obviously, that was the whole point, but butterflies were vicious little creatures.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Gallant greeted me as he joined me out front of the headquarters.

“I think this patrol is going to drag,” I replied sarcastically. I mean, it would; nothing was going to really happen til tomorrow.

“It's alright to be nervous,” he said, cutting through my bullshit with his stupid winning smile. “I don't think there's anything to worry about tonight though.” I couldn't help the nervous grin that touched my lips.

“Yeah,” I said, letting out a long breath. “I think so too.”

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

“Fuck you asshole I'll ki--”

The rest of the man's threat was cut off by a high-pitched shriek as I brought his radius and ulna closer together than they ought to be. I slowly walked forward, then halted as he lashed out with his other fist, striking my cheek. It didn't do anything, nor did the other two blows he landed before I managed to walk his arm all the way behind him.

I twisted his arm into position, then gripped the other one hard. It was a lot easier to move people around when they were in too much pain to resist. I couldn't use my 'weapons', since this dipshit wasn't armed and I still remembered those stupid use of force seminars they put me in. Insane that I had to follow those rules when I was sixteen and my current opponent was bigger than two of me put together.

It didn't stop the cuffs clicking shut around his wrists, or from him being shoved unceremoniously into the back of the PRT van when it arrived a few minutes later. I helped Gallant get the other looters we'd stopped secured, then sat down at a shockingly intact bus stop bench. A moment later, Gallant joined me as the van drove off down the dark street.

“Solid work, Amaranth,” he said after a minute of quietly resting. “Sorry I left you the biggest of the bunch.”

“Eh, it's fine,” I brushed it off. “The other two kinda jumped you. Don't know why, maybe they're stupid or something.”

“They say only the stupid ones get caught,” Gallant said with a hint of irony.

“That's why I've never been caught.” I chuckled, but it died when he didn't join me. “Uh, sorry, I guess that's no--”

“Look out!”

He shoved me to the ground as the air was split with a sound like thunder in miniature. I blinked away the afterimage of a scintillating beam of light and clambered to my feet. Out of the darkness of the blacked-out street, four men in bulky tactical gear loomed. They carried wicked looking guns that I would literally kill to get my hands on, and their faces were covered in impassive, armoured helmets.

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They split in two as a ball of blue light blasted past my head. I barely managed to not flinch, a good thing since one of the assholes shot me. The beam impacted my chest with a light tap and the feeling of intense heat. Not painful, exactly, but definitely above comfortable bathing temperatures. They advanced rapidly, two towards me, two to Gallant. Well, I'd had worse odds...

The flashes of their weapons made it a bitch to see them, really to see at all. I squinted against the blinding light and forced myself to ignore the stinging not-quite-pain of their shots. One got close, reaching out with...something in his hand. I saw nothing but a silhouette, but it was enough for me to reach up and crush his wrist in a heartbeat. To his credit, he reacted by bringing up his weird rifle and firing instead of screaming in agony.

It didn't do him any good. I grabbed the bulky barrel, just too big to get my hand around, and squeezed before he could shoot again. It glowed briefly as the soldier pulled the trigger again, then detonated in a deafening flash of white and pink. I flinched and screamed as my costume melted, sticking to my skin in several places.

I fought back the urge to vomit and opened my eyes. I nearly lost it, seeing what the explosion had done to the soldier. The grisly sight suddenly vanished, and I felt a cord tighten around my neck. I shrieked in fear, whipping around and swinging wildly at where the other soldier had to be. I kept swinging with one arm as I brought my other hand up to my neck. Fabric above the drawstring, a bag.

A violent scream clawed its way out of my throat as a hand clamped firmly around my flailing wrist. A point of reference. I snapped my other hand up and gripped his forearm and crushed and crushed and crushed until he screamed and I felt his hand slide off my wrist. There was a wet thump, then I was grabbed from behind and lifted off the ground.

I thrashed and fought and bit when a hand was shoved over my mouth, but I could feel us moving. Where the fuck was Gallant, where the fuck was anybody?! I tried to scream, and a piece of cloth was tied around my mouth. I moved my projection off my elbows and jabbed them backwards viciously, crying in pain as one cracked against the faceplate of a helmet. I heard the rumble of an engine and cried out as I was tossed bodily to the ground. I felt ropes lash my arms to my sides and my legs together, then was picked up and dumped again. I heard a crash above me, a trunk closing?

I screamed as loud as I could through the gag, kicking weakly at the metal around me with the little mobility I had. After a few minutes more of futile thrashing, I stopped. It was pointless.

I was fucked.

After ten minutes spent intensely panicking in the dark, we came to a stop. The trunk opened and I was bundled out and carried along...somewhere. I struggled for a bit, and they tried punching me which went as well as it usually did. They gave up after a few strikes and I did a minute later. Whatever the fuck they'd tied me up with wouldn't budge. Even shifting my projection just made it dig painfully into my skin where it was exposed.

I would wait, I would wait because I had no choice. Unfortunately, that let me think of just how deep the shit I was in was. Fucking sworn statement, fuck you Miss Militia! High-tech mercenaries with fancy fuck-off guns, crazy enough to take on capes and good enough to win. It was Coil, and I was dead.

Well, no, I wasn't that fucking lucky. I'd submitted a detailed report that made me look like a fucking insane precog. When it crossed his desk he probably had to change his pants. Now I got to look forward to a life being drugged into submission until I was useless. Well, it wouldn't last too long at least, considering the up and coming fog of shit.

I was thrown to the ground and a door slammed shut. Like that, I was...alone. Maybe. I made sure to stay very still, just in case. Black bag meant I couldn't see, bonds kept me from moving almost at all, and god only knew what else was in store for me.

With a pathetic grunt, I rolled onto my side, then managed to get into a sitting position. I scooted back with my limited mobility, letting out a quiet cry into my gag when I suddenly hit the wall. I tried to calm down, to settle my heart from its current ten million beats a minute to a more reasonable two or three-hundred thousand. Breathing through the gag was difficult but...it actually sort of helped with things, forcing me to really breathe and mean it.

As the adrenaline faded, the many aches and pains of my body began to come back. Oh fucking ow, ow ow ow those burns hurt. Maybe I shouldn't have destroyed that gun but...but what then? Give up and let myself get black-bagged? Fuck that, I wasn't going to die on the hill of my survival, but someone was.

I flinched as the door opened without warning. A set of slow, even steps approached me, and I did my best to shuffle away. I cried out as a hand gripped the bonds around my chest and dragged me...somewhere. I was suddenly lifted, then cried again as I was dropped to a lumpy mattress beneath. The gag was undone and the bag was ripped off my head. I squinted against the sudden, blinding light, barely able to see. It was blocked out by a looming silhouette, something straight out of a nightmare for someone who's only way out was death.

“Good morning, Amaranth,” Coil said in a voice far too saccharine for my tastes. “My apologies for the...handling my men gave you. Are you injured?” I glowered at him silently, eyes flicking to the guard behind him. He looked like one of the ones that kidnapped me...but they all did.

“Minor burns from when she blew up Richtoff's gun, and Richtoff.” I heard Coil click his tongue. “And Simmons lost his arm,” the guard added as an afterthought.

“Well I am glad to hear you're not seriously hurt.” The tension in his voice had ratcheted up a bit. “I have a business proposal for you, Amaranth.”

“Shove it up your cloaca and die,” I spat back, scooting back on the bed til I hit the wall.

“There's no need for that,” he replied, voice cold. “I want you to join my organization. You have skills that would make you exceedingly valuable to me, ones I am willing to compensate you generously for.”

“Yeah and door number two?” If Coil was put off by my hostility, he didn't let it show. Physically, at least.

“I make use of you and your skills anyway,” he replied icily. “But your accommodations would be...less comfortable.” Wow, this guy fucking sucked. Like, no shit, but still.

“Fuck you, asshole,” I snapped at him, then glanced at the guard. “And fuck you too, I hope your faggot buddy Simmons gets fucking AIDS you lick-spittle shithead.” I huffed, my face burning hot as Coil slowly moved back and stood up.

“We'll speak later when you've settled down,” he said, voice promising enough violence that it made me shudder. “Do try and enjoy your stay in the meantime, mm?” With that, he and the guard left me in my cell, utterly fucked.