I hopped down from the van and trotted inside the headquarters, hot on Miss Militia's heels. She had called ahead, and we still had almost half an hour til seven. Lots of time, but I got her not wanting to dally. I didn't either, not with the promise of accomplishing something good. My heart was hammering in my chest, but I was mostly able to ignore it, for now.

As we marched through the halls, we were joined by Gallant, and a tired looking Shadow Stalker. She flipped me off, but didn't say a word as she fell in behind. Whatever, I didn't need her approval. At least she was here, may even prove useful fighting something like Mannequin.

I still wasn't totally sure what to do. Mostly, I figured I'd just be an anchor. I could grab limbs, chains, whatever, and he couldn't do anything about it but bitch and moan. If I was really lucky, I'd have the chance to deal some damage by crushing shit. I wasn't terribly hopeful, but it was the most I'd had to cling to in...

How long had I been doing this? Not even a month, plus or minus a month. That was fucking confusing, not to mention crushing. I vividly relived eight deaths almost every time I closed my eyes, and I'd barely even begun surviving. And knowing what was coming at the end of...no, no no do not fucking think about that right now.

Hopefully I had more lives than a cat, at least. That, or hopefully somehow I just lived through the next couple years and never had to find out. Yeah right...but god dammit I had to try. I forced myself to focus on my breathing, to settle things down before they got out of hand again. This was still going well, especially compared to my previous attempts. I couldn't let myself ruin it by spiraling like usual.

Miss Militia halted outside Armsmaster's door, punched in a code on the keypad next to it, then pulled it open and went inside. The three of us followed quickly, the door shutting and sealing behind us. I'd never actually seen this place intact before, and I was a little pissed it was nicer than mine. He was a floor up from me, even had a window where I was in a little concrete box. Sure it was cozy, but a view would have been nice. Actually, no, scratch that; it was Brockton Bay outside.

“Miss Militia,” Armsmaster greeted her, standing up from the computer. He frowned, and I realized he was unmasked. “And Gallant, Wards. May I asked why you're visiting?”

“Protection,” Miss Militia replied simply. “We have credible intelligence that Mannequin will attack you tonight.”

“What?” he snapped, eyes wide. “Why? How? When?”

“Colin, we don't have time,” she bit back. “Right now we need to secure this room. Dragon?”

“Here Miss Militia.” The screen lit up with her simulated face. It seemed to look at me. “Hello Amaranth.”

“Uh, hi?” I blinked. Why was she talking to me? Oh god what had I done to get the attention of the AI panopticon? “Have we...met?”

“Not exactly, but you do write interesting reports.” I did my best to suppress a shiver. “I'm monitoring all approaches to the room. No one's getting in without me knowing.” Yeah sure, just like last time. I held my tongue.

“Good. Shadow Stalker, Weld.” Both Wards seemed to be shaking off shock. Had they not known what they were fighting til now? “Hold here by the door. Amaranth, close protection. I'll cover the window.” Her power morphed from a shotgun, to a short-barreled sniper rifle as we fanned out through the room.

“Dragon,” Armsmaster said as I joined him by the computer desk. “Can you tell me what's going on?” I saw her look at me and couldn't help flinching.

“A new precog,” she explained, turning back to him. “One good prediction so far, I'd guess this is another.”

“Sorry,” I said, despite myself.

“You?” I nodded. “The new Ward, right? I had been told you were a Brute.” I shrugged.

“It's...complicated.”

“We've got time.” He crossed his arms, arm, over his chest. “Want to fill me in?”

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“Not really,” I sighed, fiddling with my hood. I was getting agitated. “I...remember Mannequin attacking you, almost killing you, and I tried to help.” I figured telling him about the nomination wasn't only unnecessary, but stupid; he'd be pissed.

“You remember?” Dragon asked, curious. “As in, you've experienced it before?”

“That's what it feels like,” I countered, ignoring the sweat pricking at my back. “I don't know how else to describe it just...” I shrugged.

“Interesting,” she said, almost too quiet to hear. “Well I don't think we have anything to worry about.” My gaze snapped down and checked my watch. I sighed with relief, not quite seven yet, Dragon hadn't just screwed us.

“I wish I felt that way,” I muttered. “Do you have any weapons? Taser and OC spray aren't exactly useful here.”

“Weapons?” Armsmaster scoffed. “I'm under house arrest, young lady.” I rolled my eyes.

“Cool, so I'm a meat-shield then,” I said dryly. “It's fine, I doubt he hits harder than Leviathan. Just...hey don't let him grab me?”

“Grab you?”

“Yeah like...grab me.” How the fuck else could I explain it? “I can take hits, but also people can throw me around like a ragdoll so...yeah. You don't have to like, do anything, just grab me if I start flying through the air.”

“Alright.” He nodded, seeming to take it at face value. Superheroes... “You mentioned Leviathan, were you defending Brockton Bay?”

“'Defending' is a hell of a way to put it,” I answered bitterly. “I took some hits, I guess, but I didn't really do anything.”

“A day after you got your powers.” I flinched, eyeing Dragon.

“Around there.” I kept my voice neutral. “Anyway, it doesn't matter. Leviathan's at the bottom of the ocean and there's a different problem we've got to deal with.”

“Indeed.” Armsmaster's voice had an odd tone, but I didn't care enough to interpret. “Well, thank you for your work. Let's hope that monster sees what's waiting and turns tail.” That was optimistic.

With nothing else to do, and Armsmaster turning to Dragon for what was probably a private conversation, I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms. It would help if I knew where Mannequin was coming from, which vent or whatever. Well, I could make do anyway.

I kept my eyes up, watching the large central vent. There was only one way he could realistically get in here, and it was well covered. Too covered... I forced my gaze to roam, scanning the walls as best I could. It was all bedecked in the most hideous shades of beige, maybe it really was a plush cell. Mine at least had a nice, blue wall in the kitchen that broke up the greys of concrete and brown of crappy particle board.

Despite the relative niceties of the space, it was clearly built to take a beating. That made sense, it was probably the biggest target for villains in the city. The Undersiders clearly thought so, at least once upon a time. But we were dealing with something that wasn't breaking through walls, Mannequin was smarter. He wouldn't come in the way we knew he was coming in, and if there was another way--

“Look out!” I raised my head at Armsmaster's warning, just in time for the main vent cover to slam into the bridge of my nose.

It didn't do anything, of course, but I probably earned another day of console duty with the stream of curses that flew from my mouth. Mannequin's limbs and chains dropped to the floor in a pile that quickly reassembled into something like a person; if you squinted and turned back time ten years anyway.

Shadow Stalker was first, charging in as the rest of us reacted. She loosed a pair of bolts at him, getting no reaction but a limb cast out in her direction. Likewise, Mannequin got nothing from his strike as Shadow Stalker slipped briefly into her breaker state. She fired three more shots, point-blank, into his head as she became solid, then again became intangible as his claws stabbed out.

Her shriek was bloodcurdling, and the reek of ozone and burned flesh was suddenly thick in the air. Mannequin held up his sparking claws, cocking his head as Shadow Stalker fell to the ground, dead. He suddenly rocked to the side as a deafening shot rang out. Mannequin whirled and threw a limb at Miss Militia, but missed as she sidestepped it. She fired twice more before the chains whirled and the retracting limb caught her in the back and sent her to the floor.

Oh fuck. I shook my head and finally forced myself to move. I made it two steps before remembering what my actual job here was. I glanced back at Armsmaster, holding a dusty little pen-knife and--

“No weapons?” I practically growled at him.

His retort was lost as a white limb lashed out and struck his stomach. I jumped as long, metal fingers gripped his torso. The chain started to retract and I scrambled, barely managing to catch it in a death grip. It stopped dead, barely pulling Armsmaster off balance. I looked at Mannequin, staring back at me with his head cocked to the side, and grinned.

'Snap'.

Oh that was a beautiful sound. I opened my hand at let the crushed shards of chain clatter to the floor. Well, I wasn't able to do much, but god damn did it feel great to do some real damage. I settled into a fighting stance as Mannequin kicked Weld into the far wall. Miss Militia was staggering to her feet, and Armsmaster was basically just some guy with a knife.

I blinked as Mannequin moved, suddenly finding a chain wrapping three times around my throat. The limb who's chain I'd broken skittered to life, striking me in the back of the leg. I weathered it without moving, then reached up and gripped the chain, starting to squeeze and--

A cry escaped my lips as I was suddenly sent airborne. The window shattered with a tremendous crash and I was thrown end over end through the air. I saw sky then ground then sky then ground then sky then grou