ACL: 27.5 Various (Patreon)

Chapter 27.5: Various

Rory Christner

Brockton Bay, NH, USA
Saturday, February 5, 2011

I swore under my breath as I dove from the van. A beam of light descended from the sky and struck the engine blocks, which could only mean Purity. There had been some rumors flying around that she’d divorced Kaiser and struck out on her own, maybe even turned over a new leaf to become an independent hero. Clearly, those were full of shit.

I rolled to bleed off momentum and thanked God I had a brute rating. The cars spun out of control and crashed around the street, scattering our forces.

“Militia, come in,” I shouted into my mic. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I heard, filling me with relief. She was one of the most experienced heroines I knew, but she wasn’t any tougher than a normal woman. “You?”

“All good here. Shit.”

“Triumph?”

At the other end of the street, I could see several figures walking languidly towards us. A dozen? No, sixteen gangbangers in Empire red and black. They were led by a pair of capes, a woman in black robes that reminded me of mourner’s attire and a man in gray.

I recognized them. Night and Fog, a confirmed couple that was notoriously hard to deal with. Fog was a breaker who could turn into gas at will and Night was a changer with a monstrously high brute rating.

On the plus side, it was thought that Night could only transform when she went unseen, maybe even had trouble maintaining her transformation while in someone’s line of sight. She was strong and fast but could be kept in check so long as someone kept an eye on her. On the downside, Fog’s was the perfect power to give his wife the coverage she needed.

“Night and Fog incoming. They’ve got sixteen grunts with them,” I reported dutifully. 

“Understood. All troops, defensive positions. Triumph, cover them. Try to blow Fog away with your shouts; make sure Night is visible at all times,” Miss Militia replied.

“Yes, ma’am. What about Purity?”

“Leave her to me and Mouse Protector.”

I didn’t know we’d have help but that was a relief to hear. Mouse was one of the most experienced independents in the country. I didn’t know how they were going to deal with Purity, but they were better suited than me.

“Can we expect reinforcements?”

“Velocity should be coming. Menagerie has agreed to watch from a distance and reinforce a convoy as needed,” she told me.

That was good. Menagerie was the new powerhouse. They said even Lung was wary of him, and for good reason. As ridiculous as he was, he helped my baby cousin, and before any of us even recognized she was in danger. I owed him one for that.

The battle began without the usual banter. There was nothing to say; we all knew what they wanted. Fenja and Menja were inside, hopefully still sedated, but that might change.

The grunts spread out as wispy smoke emanated from Fog. His power was indiscriminate so the grunts needed to give him a lot of clearance. Hopefully, that would make it easy for the troopers to pick them off one by one.

I pulled up the fabric mask attached to my chinstrap. It was a modified version of regulation gear handed out to all PRT personnel. Having Fog in the city helped, but it wasn’t strictly for him alone. Not only did troopers sometimes support firemen, we could also be exposed to tear gas, dust, and other harmful chemicals knocked around by cape fights.

The gangsters began to pepper us with gunfire but the troopers had opened the doors of the vans to use as makeshift shields. I winced as a bullet grazed my cheek but jogged away from my van. I was a brute; I could take the bullets, better that a trooper got to cover instead of me.

As I jogged, I unclipped two confoam grenades from my waist and tossed them at the nearest grouping of gangsters. They kept Fog to one side and that made it easy to guess where they’d run.

Fog had now taken a fully gaseous form and Night was nowhere to be seen. He floated towards us slowly, his breaker state didn’t come with much in the way of mobility options, but we wouldn’t be able to run unless we were willing to abandon the prisoners.

Didn’t matter. I knew where Night was. I took in a deep breath and pulled my mask down.

“FUS RO DAH!” I shouted. I didn’t know why I bothered with those words. I usually didn’t say anything. It was silly, just a dumb game from Aleph some of my college friends were into. But there was a character, one that shouted at dragons.

I wondered if Menagerie’s hammy nonsense was rubbing off on me. Still, I couldn’t deny that it felt pretty neat. I pulled my mask up and took a breath. It was inconvenient, but it beat breathing in some of Fog on accident.

A ripple of air shot out from my mouth. It was invisible but its effects could be seen by the way Fog’s cloud parted before it. There was a flash of black, the silhouette of spindly limbs and too many claws, and a figure was launched out of Fog and back down the street.

Good, maybe I could keep them busy this way. We could do this. The troopers could handle the gangster even when they were outnumbered. So long as we maneuvered out of Fog’s way and kept Night visible, we had a chance.

“Triumph! Incoming!” I heard Mouse shout from above me, too late to matter.

Lasers rained down on our position, faster than any of us could react. Then my world became a flash of white. Immense pressure launched me off my feet and I rolled gracelessly along the ground like a stone skipped across a lake. When my hearing returned, it was to the sound of agonized screams.

All around me, I saw PRT troopers lying in discarded heaps, like toy soldiers forgotten by a child. Limbs faced the wrong way. Blood welled up from lacerations left by shrapnel.

I pushed myself up on one hand. On the plus side, we were all moving, which meant she’d held back for the unpowered troopers. On the downside, she held back and still decimated us.

A salvo of automatic fire chased after Purity, keeping her from finishing us off.

I looked up just in time to see an object thrown into the sky as the gunfire died down. When it neared Purity, Mouse Protector teleported to it and stabbed at the Empire lieutenant. Unfortunately, Purity proved too nimble in the air and Mouse whiffed the strike. Before the blaster could fire on her, Mouse vanished, continuing their game of cat and mouse.

That was all well and good for her, but though Mouse could dodge Purity’s lasers, she couldn’t do anything to block them, which left the prison transport vulnerable. If Miss Militia wanted to cover the transport, she couldn’t focus on keeping the troopers safe on the ground.

It was a delicate balancing act on Purity’s part as well. She needed to fire a laser powerful enough to break out the twins but not so powerful that it would hurt them if they were still asleep. As she came in low for a risky strafing run, I saw my chance.

I looked up and roared, putting in everything I could. It was a wordless thing, I had no mind for video game references anymore. A wall of sound shot out and launched Purity across the block. At the same time, I heard the crack of a gun and a spray of blood.

Miss Militia and I had the same idea. I doubted she shot to kill, she never did, but I hoped our combined attack would keep her out of commission.

Then, there was a cold fire in my stomach. A dozen razorblades ripped through me as I was flung away, much as I’d done to Purity. I felt several bones break as I was flung through the cement wall of a parking structure. My vision became bleary and I distantly recognized that my body had shut down to avoid the pain.

The last thought to enter my mind was how much of an idiot I’d been: I stopped looking at Night.

X

Dean Stansfield

The Empire was moving in force. I didn’t even know they had so many members. It seemed like every group we encountered had at least ten people, sometimes as large as twenty-five. The Wards had all been called for emergency patrols, and for the first time in a while, we were given the green light to actively seek fights.

‘At least Vista’s happy,’ I thought, and immediately regretted thinking ill of her. She was the youngest and everyone treated her like it, even when we objectively knew she was a lot more mature than her age suggested. Even I found myself falling into that trap without noticing.

She’d mellowed out this past month. Before, there had been a constant undercurrent of annoyance and frustration simmering beneath the surface at the way we all treated her. It was for her safety, but that didn’t mean she didn’t resent being forced to act as the team mascot.

Now, the same frustration was there, but more muted. She wasn’t happy, but she was more tolerant of the PRT and worked harder to show her knowledge and skill rather than simply demand better treatment. And, I could tell in the faint shifting of emotional auras, it was slowly working.

I stepped through the distorted space onto a nearby rooftop, keeping pace with my partner for the day. Aegis and Kid, Shadow and Clock, and Vista and me. We’d each been given a sector of the city to watch over, with several troopers in vans acting as our backup while the Protectorate handled the prison transport.

Or, that was the idea. In reality, we didn’t so much patrol as hop from fight to fight, crime scene to crime scene. The Empire leadership had stirred up every two-bit thug. We’d already answered three muggings,, stopped some assholes with Molotovs from firebombing a Filipino-owned laundromat, and helped a local police precinct fend off an attack so they could rejoin the patrols.

Given Vista’s newfound attitude and the emergency situation, she’d been provided with a stun baton and a bandolier of confoam grenades, weapons she used to terrifying effect. If there was ever a doubt in my mind that Vista was in fact the shaker-nine, it was gone now.

Vista redirected a molotov back into the back of an arsonist’s car, making him and his friends run out screaming. Space bent and kept them running around in circles like headless chickens, making them easy marks for me. I’d swapped out anger for delirious joy, something I knew from power testing felt like being tied down and tickled nonstop.

“Console, where to next?” I asked as the regular cops moved in to cuff the idiots.

“Synagogue on Nineteenth and Florence Avenue,” an officer I didn’t recognize responded. “Bunch of Empire mooks set it on fire and there are people inside. Firemen can’t reach them. Clear all hostiles. Force accepted.”

“Understood,” Vista said, deadly serious.

I wasn’t Jewish, but I had enough Jewish friends to know that they observed sabbath on Saturday, not Sunday. “Are there people inside?”

“Affirmative,” Console replied, making Vista and I exchange grim looks. “Force accepted. Clear them out.”

“On our way.”

“Shit, where’s Nineteenth?” Vista grumbled. It was telling that Console didn’t bother to correct her language.

“That way,” I said, pointing. “I know where it is.”

X

Once we got near, I no longer needed to give Vista directions, the columns of smoke and sounds of gunfire did that better than I ever could. We arrived at a firefight nearing its conclusion. The cops had closed off the street leading into the synagogue parking lot and though they were heavily outnumbered, they were also better trained than the average gang member and seemed to be holding their own.

They’d long since taken to using lethal force, something PRT troopers were almost never authorized for. Bodies on both sides littered the floor. At a guess, I estimated about two dozen Empire in varying states of fighting ability.

A corona of fear surrounded them, pain and terror mixing in a cocktail that was almost blinding to my senses. It took a moment for me to find out why. There were some who were gunned down by the cops in retaliation, but more than half of them were thrashing on the ground, swatting at something they couldn’t see.

“Console, I think twenty-four hostiles. Several dead. Half are thrashing on the ground. Another cape suspected,” I rattled off.

“Get to high ground and make some distance. Support the police and identify the cape. There is a high likelihood of a trigger.”

“Understood.”

Vista and I were patched through to the police comms. From there, Vista went to work. Her electric baton shot out along waves of distorted force, striking from across the parking lot in impossible, eye-watering angles. It didn’t matter what the standing gang members did to protect themselves; if Vista could see them, they went down to a bludgeon that bent and curved like a viper.

While she did that, I focused entirely on my empathic senses. There was a cape here and if this was a trigger event, we needed to get on top of it. Now that I was closer, I could see the specks of gray through the smoke.

“The cape controls bugs,” I said. “They’re swarming the gangsters with bees.”

“Where?”

I looked around. At first, I thought they’d be near the synagogue, maybe on a second story so the master could look down on their minions. Instead, when I found nothing in that direction, I turned around and found someone across the street. They were almost a full block away and halfway tucked behind an alley, but I could see the corona of determination and aggression.

“Found them. Behind us, four buildings down. They’re not afraid. No panic, just determination.”

“Atypical of new triggers,” Console said with a sigh of relief. I could sympathize; everyone said I was the Wards shrink, but I was under no delusions about being able to talk down a fresh trigger. “Likely a vigilante.”

I launched several blasts of light towards the gangsters, finishing them off with condensed tranquility. “Are we cleared to approach, Console?”

“You are. Be careful. Vista, please let Gallant take point.”

“I know,” she huffed.

The firefight wrapped up in short order. There wasn’t much normal gangsters could do against a swarm of bees, but throw in two more capes and they quickly lost what motivation they had. We left them to the cops and began walking down the street.

“Slow, don’t spook them,” Console said.

“They’re not a scared cat,” Vista huffed.

“No, but we don’t want them to think we’re here to arrest them,” I pointed out.

“Fine.”

They, she, I realized now, turned to run. She ducked behind an alley. Vista bent space to carry us to a nearby rooftop so we could keep her in sight.

“Wait!” I called. “We’re Wards! We’re here to talk!”

She turned and I got a good look at her. She had long, wavy, brown hair that hung down to her hips. A dull, gray mask covered her face, made of a material I didn’t immediately recognize. It was shaped like an insect, with protective plates reminiscent of an insect’s mandibles along her cheeks and chin. The mask was fully covered, with yellow goggles that hid her eyes from view.

Over her shoulders, she wore a gray shawl made of the same material. It looked tattered, or maybe half-finished, like she wanted to weave it into a shirt or one-piece but didn’t have the time. The fact that she wore an olive-green hoodie and faded jeans under it only added to her disheveled appearance.

Vista closed the distance for us, not close enough to seem threatening but near enough to show that she couldn’t run away.

“Hey, there,” I said, palms down. Turns out, the universal sign of open palms wasn’t very peaceful when it came from a blaster like me. It was one of those PR things drilled into me. “It’s a nice time to see a new hero.”

“You’re a hero, right?” Vista asked.

“I-I am,” the mystery girl said. 

“I’m Gallant and this is Vista.” Probably unnecessary, but introducing ourselves put us on familiar ground. It was about making the other party comfortable. Even if she was paranoid or awkward, as a lot of capes tended to be, she could rely on typical social conventions. “Do you have a cape name?”

“Ta-Theresa,” she said. “It’s… I haven’t thought up a good name yet but Theresa isn’t my real name either.”

“That’s okay. You just ran out to help, didn’t you?”

“I…”

“That’s great. We could always use more heroes. Do you control anything besides insects?”

“Umm… Crabs? Spiders aren’t technically insects. I can… I can sense them for a few blocks. Some of the bugs felt the fire so I came to help.”

“Invite her along and observe,” Console said.

“Would you like to come with us?” I asked. I knew what Console was suggesting. We were to try a soft sell, maybe get her in the Wards. “Vista can get us anywhere and I can help calm people down, but we could do more with a great scouting power like yours.”

“I… Yeah, I’d like that.”

X

We were far more effective with “Theresa” scouting for us. The police and PRT radio channels were flooded with firefights, but that meant some of the lesser crimes went unnoticed. With Theresa acting as our eyes and ears, we could take a few seconds to stop a robbery or assault before Console marked it on our route for police and we moved on.

“So, Theresa,” Vista struck up a conversation. “You said you made your own suit, right?”

“It’s not finished,” she replied bashfully. She fidgeted with the hem of the tattered shawl, a shawl I learned was made entirely out of black widow silk. No lie, that was metal as hell. “I just grabbed what I had before rushing out. It should be stab proof though so something is better than nothing.”

“That’s awesome. Light, tough, and something only you can make sounds like the kind of thing the PRT would be interested in. So why Theresa? Why not a name like Weaver?”

“Oh, that’s… I met Menagerie before,” she said. “I gave him a fake name and I guess I said it without thinking. Weaver… doesn’t seem bad though.”

I could tell this made her a little embarrassed, though I didn’t know why. Did she know Menagerie out of costume? Her emotions were fascinating. There was embarrassment there, but also respect and admiration. She looked up to him, as did many people, but she was also more familiar with him than I’d have guessed.

I made a note of it but quashed the line of questioning. My power made me uniquely well-equipped to violate the unwritten rules. I did my best to avoid it whenever I could.

“You know Menagerie?” Vista asked. She’d had the most interaction with him out of any of the Wards.

“Y-Yeah, I said I’d get in touch once I made my costume, but…” she waved helplessly around her.

“Huh, is he building a team? Because I would’ve liked to have you in the Wards. We need more girls.”

“No, I don’t think so? But don’t you have Shadow Stalker? Also, mugging two blocks away,” she said, pointing.

“Got it. And Shadow Stalker is a little… aloof. She’s as distant as she looks,” Vista replied as we followed Theresa.

Suspicion welled up inside our new ally. Something about what Vista said bothered her. Was it the distance between Vista and the other female Ward? She’d been warming up to us but I could almost feel her emotions cool a little.

“Shadow’s not that bad,” I said, halfheartedly defending her. “She just likes her privacy.”

We moved from crime scene to crime scene, playing hopscotch with the Empire. Theresa was genuinely impressive. She was as green as Vista’s dress, but she adapted quickly to our standard operating procedures. She was professional, quick to take the lead, and used her powers in creative ways. There were times when I didn’t even notice her loop silk ropes around the perps before she was finished. All in all, I thought she could be a terrific addition to the Wards, if a little sensitive.

For her part, Vista seemed eager to have another girl, someone who was as professionally minded as her yet wasn’t as abrasive as Shadow Stalker. I couldn’t blame her; she needed more friends, even with Delphi coming to join us.

X

Crystal Pelham

Mom encased the middle-aged man and his son in a purple force field as I loosed a salvo of lasers against his assailants. It was a struggle to hold back but I’d long since mastered my power. I could launch a can of soda to my brother from across the street without making it explode, which, in practical terms, meant my lasers felt like heavy punches that didn’t quite cross the line into abuse.

One of them scrambled to his feet and tried to run, only for Vicky to drop down from the sky with a furious scowl. Her aura flared like an invisible cape, bathing us all in awe and fear accordingly. Mom and I shrugged it off with the ease of long practice, but the same couldn’t be said for the others.

“You know, Aunt Sarah, any of us could have handled that on our own,” she said as we flew away.

“No, we work in teams, Glory Girl. We don’t know what we’ll face, especially today,” mom said sternly.

“Yeah, but come on, three flyers is a bit much, isn’t it?”

“Pairs minimum. I’m not letting you fly off alone.”

“Aww, please? What’re they going to do? Shoot me?”

“I’d be more worried about what Carol does to you.”

“Fine,” Vicky pouted.

It was hard to remember sometimes, what with her fantastic brick package and aura, but my cousin was a relatively young trigger. She’d been a cape for less than two years to my four. She also had the typical brute arrogance, thinking there was no way she could go down.

That was the trouble: She was right, and would be right, until she suddenly wasn’t.

‘At least she’s got enough sense to listen to mom,’ I thought.

New Wave was out in force. Mom talked to the Protectorate and we’d agreed to patrol our neighborhood and the area surrounding the college campus, about eighteen blocks in diameter. It wasn’t a ton of territory, but having a spot of security that local law enforcement could use to regroup and stage operations was important.

To that end, mom split us up into three teams: Dad and Eric covered a small half-circle of territory while Aunt Carol and Uncle Mark covered the opposite half. Mom, Vicky, and I, being the three fastest flyers, covered a complete circle further out, forming two concentric rings of protection. This layered formation gave the team good odds of spotting something, even if we missed it from the air.

Most of all, it kept us safe. We could reinforce each other within a minute and always had a teammate to rely on. Ever since Aunt Jess died, mom prioritized us over everything else, not that that was a bad thing.

“I see something,” Vicky called as we flew over the college.

“Is… Is that a purple koala?” Aunt Sarah asked, utterly bewildered.

I snorted, almost choking on my own spit. Mom was right; there was indeed a giant, purple koala. It sat on its haunches but was still eight feet tall. It was currently dangling one skinhead by his foot while his buddies tried to smash it apart with tire irons and nail-bats, to absolutely zero progress.

As we watched, Wyatt Hall’s doors opened and unleashed a small tide of stuffed animals. I spotted rhinos, bears, hippos, and lions, each the size of a man. They reinforced their bigger, koala plushy-in-arms, tackling the remaining gangsters to the ground.

I laughed. There was only one cape in the city who could do that. I would have loved for Parian to be a hero. The addition of plushy minions just made everything funnier.

Sure enough, the doors opened again and Brockton Bay’s premier fashionista strutted out like the campus was her catwalk. She was short, but wore a cream, Victorian era dress that made her feel taller. It was something about wearing a single tone from legs to chest if I remembered right.

Her bonnet was decorated with a wreath of embroidered flowers. A sash crossed her chest from her right shoulder to the opposite hip, both giving her outfit a splash of color. Long, blonde curls, a theater mask, and pristine, white gloves completed the look. Usually, it was advised that capes show a bit of the face to humanize ourselves, but she made this fully covering outfit work for her.

She offered the boys a slow golf clap. Though she said not a word, her posture screamed confidence and contempt. The dolls dragged their captives to the giant koala, only for the koala to grab them all in a bear hug. Its arms unraveled in spirals before lengthening into rope that bound them all. They weren’t going anywhere.

Then, her menagerie of animals began to deform and deflate. Stitches came undone as all but the koala was reduced to bolts of cloth that swirled around her.

“That was so cool!” Vicky yelled, descending like the blonde meteor of enthusiasm she was. She was like a human-shaped golden retriever that still hadn’t quite internalized that it was no longer a small puppy.

Parian reacted exactly like how any cape who’d just got done with combat would when a flying brick shot for her face. She yelped in surprise. The bolts of cloth came together at once, turning into a tendril that snagged my idiot cousin by the leg and flung her into the nearby stone fountain with the crack of a whip.

The Vicky-missile crashed straight through the decorative statue, reducing it to so much rubble. Dust clouds and water shot into the air, thoroughly ruining her outfit.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“Me? You charged at me!” Parian yelled back.

I looked at mom as we both let out a resigned sigh. I called up a tiny, red laser on my finger and flung it towards my cousin. What would have felt like getting punched for a normal person did nothing more than tilt her head back a little.

“You surprised a high-strung cape right after a fight, Vicky,” I chided.

“Forgive my niece, Parian,” Aunt Sarah added as we descended at a more sedate pace. “She means well, she’s just a little enthusiastic.”

“Oh, Lady Photon and L-Laserdream,” she stammered. “It’s-It’s no trouble. I was just surprised.”

“What are you doing at the college, Parian?” I asked.

“Me? I was visiting a friend. The fashion department is here and I was workshopping a few ideas. She received a lot of silk from Menagerie and asked me to help work it into some commissions.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. You know Sabah? She’s great.”

“S-She is? I-I mean, yes, she’s a good friend. She’s been a little swamped with commissions lately so I’ve been helping out.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. Menagerie’s kind of a hot topic right now. Is the silk super durable?”

“It is! It’s completely stab proof and bulletproof, at least to small arms. I-I don’t have anything bigger to test it on,” she said shyly. “It also takes in all sorts of dyes too. Actually, most people just want a pretty dress or jacket.”

“Well, I might be interested in something myself.”

“You?”

“Why not? You and Sabah are literally the best tailors I know. Say, can I get your number? You’re not too busy, are you?”

“N-No, of course not,” she stammered. “Sabah recently met another girl who could handle the business side of things. She’s been a huge help.”

“Is no one going to mention the destroyed fountain?” Vicky groused. “And my outfit’s ruined.”

Mom sighed. “That’s your fault, Vicky. We keep telling you to be more mindful. Not everyone moves through life at the same pace you do.”

“Yeah, fine. I’m sorry, Parian.”

“No, I’m sorry for throwing you into the fountain,” the clothier apologized in turn. “I can make you a costume?”

“Really? Yes!”

“Ah, but… Are there procedures for destroyed property? I’m afraid I’ve never had to deal with things like this.”

“Don’t mind it. I know the president of the university,” mom said with a gentle smile. “It was an accident so I’m sure we can work something out.”

“You know President Boyd?”

“We’ve met at the mayor’s gala a few times. He’s not as stern as he likes to pretend on campus.”

“O-Oh, thank you, Lady Photon.”

“No worries. Can you sit on these fools until the cops arrive? We need to carry on with our patrol.”

“I can do that. You take care.”

I was glad we parted on amicable terms. Parian was the only true rogue in Brockton Bay, and a friend of Sabah’s. It wasn’t lost on any of us that the college’s skinhead population went for Sabah’s workshop. Maybe they wanted to take her hostage, get a bargaining chip against Menagerie.

I scoffed. Menagerie would literally tear the city apart for his friends, that much, I knew without a doubt. I made a note to do something nice for Parian later. 

“Mom, can we come back here more frequently?” I called. “I think some other idiots might get ideas about Sabah.”

“Yes, you’re right. We’ll do a flyby every fifteen minutes or so but Parian looked like she could hold her own.”

“You’re telling me,” Vicky groused. “She would have pasted pretty much anyone else with that swing.”

“Most people are more careful about approaching new capes.”

“Yeah, I know, Aunt Sarah. I said I’m sorry already. By the way, Crys.”

I flew closer. “Hmm?”

“Was it just me or was Parian checking you out?”

“Impossible to tell. She has a fully covering mask.”

“Yeah, but come on, she completely changed how she acts when she talked to you.”

“Did not.”

“DId too, right, Aunt Sarah?”

Mom shook her head with a rueful smile. “Leave me out of this, girls.”

“Well, either way, I’m into dudes, sorry,” I said.

“She’d be horrified to find out what a slob you are,” my cousin teased.

“I’m not a slob! I know where everything I need is at all times. It’s called creative decorating.”

“Sure, cous, sure.”

Author’s Note

Remember those dice I had you guys roll? Things are happening. Blake doesn’t know any of this. Keep that in mind and know that I won’t let you metagame too hard.

Triumph is rolling death saves.

Gallant and Vista met “Theresa.” Theresa feels they’re too cliquey based on their description of Shadow Stalker. Gallant thinks she’s really capable but paranoid.

Laserdream, Glory Girl, and Lady Photon met Parian. They realized Parian is unexpectedly powerful and maybe has a thing for Laserdream.

Fun fact: Triumph is actually unexpectedly strong. He was powerful enough to send Crawler skidding back. He didn’t get much screen time so people just write him off as “shouts real loud,” but he’s actually a decently powerful cape.

Victoria triggered in 2009. Crystal triggered some time before that when someone recognized her as the daughter of outed heroes and chased her. No details are provided, but she’s the first of the Newest Wave to trigger.