The most shocking thing was that the hammer didn't drop right away. There had been no team of pissed off Protectorate heroes waiting for me to dress me down, no Gallant-Miss Militia duo to press me for answers, nothing but a regular ass debriefing. I was sent back to my quarters to rest, and that was finally the end of it.

The raid never materialized. Shadow Stalker was as much a bitch as ever, but she was here. The fifth passed, the Undersiders and Travelers made their territory grabs, and things just seemed to...continue. It made me more nervous, frankly. I knew I'd averted something, but no one else did. Considering the lack of tangible effect...

Clearly the raid hadn't been vital for whatever Coil had planned. Fine, that was literally fine, I had to refocus now. Like last time, I had a day of console duty and a day out on patrol. The patrol had been...uneventful. To be fair, we'd just been out babysitting the recovery crews all day. Besides a couple confrontations with some pissy gangsters, none of whom wanted to tangle with me or Weld, nothing had gone wrong. Now I was out with Miss Militia, escorting a convoy. I guess my schedule was different because of my fuck up? If so, it was the sole silver lining in all this.

She was maybe the one person in the Protectorate who would listen, had listened. She'd taken me seriously enough to actually do something about my warnings, even if it didn't lead to anything. And she was so nice, way nicer than I deserved. I didn't get it, but I wasn't about to slap away her extended hand either.

It made me want to go out on a limb. I checked my watch, just past five. We had at least two hours before Armsmaster was nominated and nearly killed. Asking the driver of the truck I was in, we were only ten minutes from the drop-off point. The army would take over from there, and we'd head back to base.

I forced myself to settle down and relax, or at least get more comfortable; these old five-tons had dogshit seating. I had some...enforced down-time now, time to plan ahead. I didn't want to totally avert Mannequin, like I had waved away the raid. The best case was that we get there just as he got to Armsmaster, then get three-to-one odds, maybe better.

Timing, that was what it came down to...maybe. I wished, not for the first or last time, that my memory worth a damn. It had been around seven for sure, well into the evening. Like last time, I'd tell Miss Militia, but I wasn't going to leave it til the last second. That had been my failure, a failure that led to Armsmaster...yeah.

God this fucking sucked. I didn't tell people and people got hurt, I tell people and people don't get hurt but nothing happens so did I really do anything to begin with? Maybe that was why I hadn't been dragged in front of the bosses and lit up like a Griswold Christmas display; no one got hurt. It wasn't an exact science, sure, but we were literally dealing with superpowers. Exact science was a distant relation, three times removed, and not invited to Thanksgiving.

Well, either I'd be listened to or scoffed at. Someone would get hurt or they wouldn't. It would have been nice to feel good about one of those options, but... Maybe Amy was right about her 'born bad' crap. Here I was with the knowledge to save lives and I felt bad about using it for that. Stupid shit.

“Hey uh,” the guardsman spoke up. I silently blessed him for interrupting that train of thought. “You're a superhero, right?”

“That's right.” Or something like that anyway. “And you're a solider.” He winced.

“Sorry, just...” He shook his head and gestured to the ruined buildings around us. “Ain't seen one before I got here. Hell, you're the first one I've like...seen seen, ya know?”

“Sure,” I replied with a shrug. I hadn't seen any before getting here either. “But really, you've never seen a hero, even on TV? Where're you from?”

“Oh I mean, I seen them on TV,” he retorted. “But we don't got a Protectorate base in little shithole Iowa. Hey, fuck kinda name is 'Carl' for a town anyway?” I shrugged again. “Anyway, sorry. So like, what're your powers?” I blinked, taken aback at how blunt he was.

“A force-field, sort of,” I answered, waggling my hand. “Like...hey, pass me your bayo?” He shifted in his seat, then passed the knife without a word. Wild man. “Okay, watch this.” Without warning, I stabbed my heart.

“Holy shit!” The truck jerked as the soldier started. Okay maybe a bit of warning next time.

“Easy, easy,” I said, moving the knife back and showing my unmarred chest. “See? No harm done.” I poked the tip into my hand a few times, showing off. “Nothing gets through.” Including air if I'm unlucky enough to be underwater, and I frequently was.

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“Goddamn.” He scratched two days worth of stubble, returning his attention to the road. “You ever fight one of those Endbringer things?” I grimaced.

“Yeah,” I said shortly. “I have.”

“Oh shit, are you from here? Sorry kid.” I sighed.

“It's fine.”

Not like he meant anything by it, he didn't know. That killed the conversation, unfortunately. Awkward as the random hick from Iowa was, talking to him was a hell of a lot better than dwelling on my myriad failings and potential failings. Oh well, I wasn't stuck in my head for long at least.

Soon we pulled into a parking lot next to a half-wrecked warehouse the army was using as their FOB. Tents, HESCO barriers, guard towers, the lot had been established here. A pair of ancient CEVs were resting at the front of the motor pool, one with its engine suspended from a crane. They had three in total, and they were pretty good at clearing out the more problematic streets. Gangs around here had a lot of guns, but not too many anti-tank weapons. Besides their capes, of course, but they weren't usually disrupting operations like that.

I said goodbye to the soldier who'd been driving, then hopped out of the truck. He drove into the warehouse proper while I waited outside. A few minutes later, the last truck in the convoy arrived and Miss Militia joined me. She spent a moment speaking with a man in uniform, an officer probably, then came over to me by the warehouse doors.

“How was that?” She asked, crossing her arms.

“Fine,” I replied simply. “All we did was sit around for a few hours.”

“This is vital aid,” Miss Militia countered. “If the convoy came under attack, like the one you escorted last month, you would feel differently.”

“But that didn't happen.” Just like the Undersiders' attack. “Anyway, like I said, it was fine. Can we just...go?” I checked my watch, feeling like a whiny kid. We still had just over an hour, and I wasn't sure how long it would take to get back.

“I'll call our ride,” she said, turning away.

I sighed and let my eyes roam the base while she called. It was shitty to act like this, but I wasn't in a mood to sit around. Time was ticking, and I still needed to tell her what was going to happen. I sure didn't want to have that conversation here... The ride back would probably be fine, assuming we weren't separated or something.

“Is anything the matter?” Miss Militia asked as she turned back. I glanced at her, then quickly at the ground.

“No, it's fine, just...” I frowned and shook my head. “I...remember two days ago?” She stiffened.

“Explain,” she demanded.

“Not here,” I countered immediately, eyes flicking around. “I don't wanna freak people out.” That was partly true, I also just felt...weird about it.

“Very well,” Miss Militia replied. “I expect a full explanation the moment we're on the move.” I nodded, relieved despite her icy tone.

At least the soldiers around seemed to be giving us a wide berth. Whether it was the colourful costumes or Miss Militia's constantly shifting weapon, they left us well alone. Every moment seemed to drag like molasses though, and my trepidation was just constantly growing. Obviously I needed to tell Miss Militia, obviously, but part of me was still so certain she'd think I was crazy. That part of me needed a reality check, so despite the thought making my guts churn I was determined to talk.

After an eternity, waiting ten minutes, the PRT van rolled up to the razor-wire barricade at the entrance and honked twice. We walked over silently, I kept a little back from Miss Militia. She stopped by the cabin and spoke briefly with the trooper driving, then headed to the back with me in tow. The troop compartment was empty, and she clambered in. I did too, taking a seat across from her and staring at the floor. With the rumble of its engine, we began making our way back to the PRT headquarters.

“Now explain what you meant.” Miss Militia's demand was sharp and immediate. I flinched despite myself.

“Armsmaster is going to be nominated by Mannequin tonight,” I blurted. Her eyes widened but words continued falling out of my mouth. “Seven, or like, sometime after he's going to sneak in and nominate him for the Slaughterhouse Nine then nearly kill him.” A gasping breath forced its way into my lungs. “I know nothing happened last time but please I don't want him bleeding out on me again...” I trailed off and stared at the metal-grate floor below.

“Again?” Fuck. “What do you mean?”

“I...” My heart thudded rapidly in my chest and I could feel bile threatening to make a mess of the van. “Sorry, it's weird.” I shook my head, trying to buy time to come up with some kind of bullshit. “I remember it happening but it hasn't. Does that make sense?” Of course it didn't, but when I looked up I saw her nod.

“Is there anything else?” I shook my head. It wasn't useful to tell her where the first aid kit was, or how much gauze a dying man needed. “Alright. We'll have heroes stationed in his room, make sure he's safe.”

“Then he won't come,” I retorted bitterly. “Like the fucking Undersiders.”

“That's an ideal outcome.”

“Until you all think I'm crazy or lying.”

“Why would we think that?” Miss Militia cocked her head. “Amaranth, your prediction about the Undersiders was determined to be plausible.”

“Huh?”

“Hellhounds dogs were spotted retreating from the direction of the headquarters at five,” she explained. “Though they didn't attack, they were in the area with unknown intent, approximately when you said they would be.” I blinked.

“But they didn't attack,” I said, like the idiot I was.

“Likely because they knew we were waiting, somehow,” Miss Militia replied. “Considering they didn't kidnap Shadow Stalker, it stands to reason they would retreat rather than make a futile assault.”

“So...you guys don't think I'm wrong?” She shook her head. “Oh.”

“I'm sorry if you got that impression.” Miss Militia took my hand. “Now, shall we stop a monster?” I couldn't help the smile that touched my lips, and squeezed her hand.

“Yeah.” I actually had hopes we would.