Forgre

Chapter 23:

– Missy –

Missy woke up with a sharp gasp, her eyes flying open.

Her head throbbed immediately. A deep, pounding ache that pulsed behind her eyes and down the back of her skull like someone had smacked her with a pipe. For a moment, she couldn't even think. Her vision swam with dark shapes and blurry movement. 

She blinked rapidly, trying to focus, sucking in cold, damp air through her nose.

Everything around her smelled like old metal, mildew, and something burnt. She was in a room. A cold, dimly-lit room that looked like it had been pulled straight out of some cheap horror movie. It looked like a fucking dungeon. A real one!

She groaned, twisting her neck. "What the hell…?"

Missy tried to sit up, and that's when she realized she couldn't move her arms. A heavy clanking noise echoed through the room as she pulled her wrists forward, only to feel cold metal jerk her back. She looked down and saw thick, black shackles locked around both wrists, chained tightly to the wall behind her. Her ankles were bound, too. The cuffs glowed faintly red too. Like they were magic or something!

"What the actual fuck?" she muttered under her breath.

Her brain still felt foggy. The drug. That damn drug the droid had hit her with. Whatever it was, it hadn't fully worn off yet. Her thoughts were sluggish, sliding in and out of focus. She wanted to scream at herself to snap out of it. 

And that goddamn droid! Stupid little cute thing! Of course the adorable rolling death trap had betrayed her. She should've known. She'd literally seen B1 battle droids gunning people down on Naboo, but sure—Missy thought she could crouch in front of a shiny, chirping cleaner bot like it was some kind of Disney sidekick.

"Down with all fucking machines from now on," she muttered bitterly, struggling again. The chains rattled. "Screw you, R2 knockoff…"

Suddenly, a voice echoed in the chamber. Low. Drawn-out. Cackling.

Missy's blood ran cold. She froze, her breath catching in her throat. That wasn't just any voice. 

She immediately reached out through the Force—tried to stretch her senses beyond the room, to feel anyone or anything—but nothing answered. It was like trying to breathe underwater. There was nothing. No ripples. No currents. The Force was completely gone.

Her eyes widened in fear.

Another sharp, rasping laugh echoed, closer this time. The sound of slow, deliberate footsteps followed, the clicking of boots on stone.

And then he stepped into view. Yellow eyes locked on her with a predator's calm.

"Darth Sidious…" Missy's stomach dropped. "No way…" she whispered, eyes wide with shock. "You're—"

He cut her off with another dry, humorless laugh and stepped closer. "I'd very much like to know," he began, his voice as cold as the walls around them, "how you and that other foolish, powerful young Sith know my true name." Missy flinched as he loomed over her. "I'll enjoy torturing the information out of you. Piece by piece," he added, voice lowering to a cruel whisper. "But don't worry, young girl. I won't waste you. Once I've broken you... I'll rebuild you. And you'll become my perfect apprentice."

Missy stared at him, heartbeat pounding in her ears. She refused to show fear. She swallowed hard. "Yeah? That's not going to happen, you wrinkly old pervert," she spat. "I'm going to bust out of these chains, find the ugliest pipe I can, and beat your teeth in."

That actually made him laugh. "Oh, I'd love to see you try," he said smoothly. "But I'm afraid those restraints are forged with Sith alchemy. You may have noticed... the Force no longer answers you."

Missy's defiant expression wavered for half a second. Her eyes darted down to the cuffs again, then back up. So that's why. That's why she couldn't sense anything.

But…

He didn't know everything. She smirked, just slightly. The Force was gone, sure. But her parahuman powers? They were still there!

"Silas is going to stop you," she said suddenly, locking eyes with him. "I'm not alone. He'll come for me! "

Sidious tilted his head, his yellow eyes glowing faintly. "Ah yes... your companion. Silas." He began pacing slowly across the dungeon floor, his hands clasped behind his back, speaking with an almost pleasant tone. "Unfortunately for you, he's already sealed his fate," he said, sounding far too pleased with himself. "As we speak, your little pet is fighting for his life. Against the entire Jedi Order. He won't be making it out of that Temple alive."

Missy's hands clenched into fists. "Fuck you!"

He chuckled again, not even trying to hide the satisfaction in his voice. "I do love it when a plan comes together. Framing that false Sith for my own attempted murder was almost laughably easy."

"What are you talking about?" Missy demanded, her voice cracking slightly. What was going on with Silas!?

Sidious stopped in front of her again, his eyes gleaming with twisted pride. "You were unconscious, so allow me to educate you." He raised a finger as he began to monologue, his tone almost reverent now. "In my pursuit of immortality, my master and I conducted many... experiments. Cloning. Consciousness transference. Countless trials. Most were failures. None of the clones could wield the Force properly. They were defective. Incomplete." His lip curled into a smile. "But that didn't make them useless. Quite the opposite."

Missy stared at him, dread building in her chest. "What did you do!"

"I sent one of those worthless husks to the Temple in my place. One of my clones. And your dear Silas, that oh-so-righteous fool... he attacked it." Sidious grinned wide now. "And just like that," he whispered, "He struck down a helpless, completely ordinary Senator in front of half the Jedi Council!"

"You son of a bitch," she hissed. 

Please be okay, Silas!

Missy took a few deep, steady breaths, trying to calm the rapid hammering of her heart. The damp, stale air of the dungeon filled her lungs, bringing with it the scent of moldy stone and rusted metal. She knew she had to keep her emotions under control, no matter how badly she wanted to panic.

She forced herself to think clearly. Silas was out there. Her fellow Ward—cool as hell, ridiculously handsome, and tougher than anyone she'd ever known—would surely find a way through whatever chaos he was facing right now. She believed in him completely. But even she knew he wouldn't be able to reach her right away. She was on her own for now.

"That's fine," Missy whispered fiercely to herself, tightening her jaw. "I have powers too."

Her attention snapped back to Darth Sidious, who stood a few feet away, cackling smugly, as though his victory had already been decided. His thin lips curled upward, exposing stained, uneven teeth as he watched her struggle futilely against the cuffs.

"You find something amusing, you creepy asshole?" Missy spat, glaring at him fiercely.

Sidious's dark hood shifted slightly as he tilted his head, his sickly yellow eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "Your defiance is entertaining, child," he drawled condescendingly. "But soon, you won't have the spirit left to glare at me. I will break you thoroughly. Then, when you are nothing but a hollow shell, I shall introduce you to the true power of the Dark Side. As the Chosen One, you will be mine to command."

Missy stared him down, anger bubbling inside her. She straightened her shoulders, defiance radiating from every inch of her small frame.

"Yeah? Well, that's what you fucking think," Missy declared sharply, her voice echoing off the dungeon walls.

She closed her eyes briefly and reached inward, pulling on her parahuman powers. Instantly, the familiar feeling surged through her, space itself bending and warping to her will. She smiled tightly as she felt the cuffs around her wrists loosen dramatically, the space between them widening effortlessly.

With a quick flick of her wrists, Missy easily slipped her hands free from the Sith alchemy restraints. The heavy cuffs fell with a loud clang, echoing ominously across the stone chamber.

The instant the cuffs left her wrists, the Force rushed back into her senses with overwhelming intensity. It filled her mind and soul, almost dizzying in its strength. But there was something wrong—something horribly off about the energy down here. It felt cold, twisted, corrupted. The sickening sensation made her stomach churn, and she instinctively pulled back, deciding not to draw too heavily upon the Force.

Missy steadied herself and raised her right hand confidently, palm outstretched. With a gentle whoosh of displaced air, her green lightsaber suddenly appeared, teleporting effortlessly into her grasp. Its emerald blade ignited immediately, illuminating the gloomy dungeon in brilliant green light.

Missy's heart swelled with pride and satisfaction; she freaking loved this weapon! It was easily the best gift she'd ever gotten, and the fact that it always teleported to her made it even better.

Across from her, Sidious's eyes widened dramatically in shock, his sneer faltering as genuine surprise overtook his features. "How did you just escape?" Sidious hissed furiously, his voice dripping with astonishment and greed. "How did you do all that? Those secrets will be mine, girl!"

His thin fingers delved quickly into the folds of his dark robes, retrieving his own lightsaber. With a sharp snap-hiss, his crimson blade ignited, bathing his face in eerie red light. His eyes narrowed, filled with malevolent determination.

Missy swallowed nervously, feeling her pulse quicken. This wasn't like fighting Darth Maul. Maul had been dangerous, yes, but Sidious exuded a terrifying, calculated cruelty far beyond anything she'd faced before.

Worse still, down here in this dungeon saturated with the Dark Side, her abilities felt muted, sluggish. She knew she didn't stand a chance of defeating him outright—but defeating him wasn't the goal.

All she had to do was escape.

She adjusted her stance, grip tightening around her lightsaber, and glared at Sidious fiercely, chin held high. "If you think you can keep Brockton Bay's Mistress of Space locked up, you've got another thing coming, you creepy fuck!" she shouted defiantly.

Sidious snarled in rage, lunging forward with blinding speed, his lightsaber slashing down viciously toward her!

– Silas –

There was a sudden, absolute silence in the cafeteria the moment I called out Palpatine as Darth Sidious.

Every set of eyes turned sharply towards me, the tension thickening the air until it felt suffocating.

Senator Palpatine's aged face shifted abruptly into one of confused innocence. His thin lips parted, eyes widening in a display of practiced surprise. "Young man, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," he declared softly, his voice tinged with gentle confusion and mild offense.

Mace Windu's deep voice cut sharply through the silence next, filled with incredulous irritation. "Silas, what exactly are you accusing Senator Palpatine of? This man isn't even Force-sensitive. I've known him for years, and he has consistently been a trusted ally of the Republic and the Jedi."

Behind me, Shaak Ti stepped forward, her voice gentle but firm. "Silas, perhaps you hit your head during that explosion just now," she offered cautiously. "We understand you're disoriented, but Senator Palpatine is no Sith. He is no threat. It will be alright; you just need to calm down."

"She's right," Padmé interjected, stepping closer, concern vivid in her youthful face. Her dark eyes were wide, imploring. "Senator Palpatine supported me when I ran for Queen. He stood by Naboo during our darkest hour. He's a good man, Silas."

I could practically see the smug glint flickering in Palpatine's pale eyes as more and more voices rose in his defense. Anger surged within me, my gloved hand tightening sharply around the grip of my sword, my teeth clenched tightly beneath the concealing mask.

But I wasn't about to let this bastard keep Missy. If he wanted to keep playing innocent, hiding openly behind his carefully constructed image, then I'd force his hand. Let's see how his facade held up under real pressure.

Without another word, I lunged forward, sword raised high, my body propelled by a surge of desperate determination. Gasps filled the cafeteria as Jedi leaped into action, several extending their hands and attempting to halt me with the Force. But their efforts slipped harmlessly off my presence—I was a wound in the Force, their powers useless against me.

As I brought my Nightingale blade down swiftly toward Palpatine, I expected him to dodge skillfully or at least ignite a hidden lightsaber. Instead, a flash of panic filled his eyes, and he raised a trembling arm defensively. My blade sliced effortlessly through his arm, severing it cleanly at the elbow before continuing downwards, carving a deep, bleeding gash across his chest.

Palpatine screamed immediately, the sound filled with raw agony and surprise, collapsing onto the cold cafeteria floor as blood pooled rapidly beneath him. A rush of his vitality flowed directly from him into me, the Nightingale blade greedily devouring his essence, healing my injured back beneath my armor.

"He's a Sith! He's using unnatural, dark techniques!" Mace Windu shouted, his voice now filled with alarm and anger, his lightsaber igniting in a bright purple flash.

Shaak Ti looked at me, confusion and betrayal written vividly across her elegant features. "Silas, why?" she demanded, her voice tight and pained.

"What have you done?" Padmé screamed suddenly, horror and betrayal erupting from her. "You're supposed to be a hero! Were you lying to us all along?"

Her words struck harder than I'd expected, causing a sharp pang in my chest. It stung deeply, even though I understood she was just a frightened fourteen-year-old caught in something far bigger than she could comprehend. No, I couldn't blame Padmé for her reaction.

My eyes narrowed sharply as I stared at the writhing figure on the floor, thoughts racing faster than ever. Realization hit me suddenly, clearly. This wasn't Palpatine—not the real one. It was some kind of clone or carefully crafted body double.

And I had fallen straight into the trap!

"Fuck," I hissed sharply, glancing quickly around the room as the Jedi Masters ignited their lightsabers in unison, expressions hardening dangerously as they glared at me.

Master Yoda stepped forward, his voice authoritative yet surprisingly calm. "Stand down, you must," he instructed firmly, green eyes locked onto mine. "Talk this through properly, we can. Violence, not the answer it is."

"He attacked me! Arrest him!" the fake Palpatine whimpered from the floor, his voice trembling weakly but filled with venomous accusation.

For a brief moment, I wanted nothing more than to finish him off—permanently silence his lies. But I knew it was pointless if this wasn't even the real Sidious. Taking a deep, controlled breath, I adjusted my stance carefully, eyes darting cautiously between the Jedi Masters surrounding me. 

"Zuun Haal Viik!"

I took in a sharp breath and let the shout rip from deep in my chest. The blast of Thu'um exploded from my mouth like a cannon. A split second later, dozens of lightsabers wrenched themselves from Jedi hands, flying through the air and clattering loudly to the ground. Gasps filled the cafeteria as the weapons scattered in every direction.

Lightning cracked across my body as I overloaded myself with power, pushing my abilities to the max. My vision sharpened, my muscles surged, and I blurred forward, sprinting toward the exit at inhuman speed. 

My stay with the Jedi was well and truly fucked at this point.

"Not so fast, Sith!" Mace Windu's voice rang out.

I barely had time to react before he landed in front of me, purple lightsaber ignited and held in a defensive stance. The glow of his blade shimmered across his skin, and his eyes locked onto mine.

"Fuck," I hissed under my breath.

And then Yoda was on the move too. The little green bastard hadn't lost his lightsaber either. One second he was across the room, the next he was a blur of green and speed coming in low, his blade humming toward my legs.

"Fus. Roh. Dah!" I shouted again, my throat flaring with heat from the back-to-back shouts. It used to burn like fire when I did them in quick succession—now it only stung a bit.

The second shout smashed into Yoda. He was yanked off his feet and flung across the room, flipping through the air and slamming into the far wall. He dropped with a grunt and a thud. I'd pulled my power back a lot there—he'd be stunned, not dead. 

I wasn't here to kill anyone unless I had no choice. And definitely not Yoda.

Mace didn't give me time to breathe. I turned to meet him, raising my sword and surging forward with my enhanced strength. My muscles screamed with power, my body a blur of violent movement. He tried to hold me off, but I saw the moment his confidence cracked.

"How do you not have any shatterpoints?!" he yelled, voice laced with panic and disbelief.

I smirked behind the mask. "Because I'm not a Sith. I'm a wound in the Force, genius. Your little Jedi cheat codes don't work on me."

He shifted forms, trying to counter me with some kind of anti-Sith saber technique. Didn't matter. My sword smacked his lightsaber upward, knocking his stance wide open. I drove my knee into his gut hard. I was his absolute worst matchup.

The hit landed clean, and he choked, folding over and stumbling back.

Around us, Jedi shouted in alarm, voices rising in disbelief and outrage. "Stop him!" someone yelled. "He's attacking the Council!" Another shouted, "Protect Master Windu!"

Lightsabers ignited one after another, painting the room in a mixed glow of green, blue, and yellow. The hum and snap-hiss of each blade filled the air, the Jedi instinctively circling closer, forming a perimeter without even needing to coordinate.

The tension thickened. 

They had no idea how to handle what I was, and the moment they saw Mace fold, they realized they were outclassed. 

I kept my grip tight on the Nightingale blade, my muscles primed to keep pushing forward, no matter who or what got in the way.

Then I heard it.

A familiar sharp, fierce, and almost adorable if I wasn't in a fight for my damn life.

Shaak Ti was coming at me from behind. 

And no! ...Not in that way!

I turned to see her charging at me, blue lightsaber raised, moving just as fast and furiously as she had during our duel. Even with everything else going on, it hit me in the gut—I didn't want to hurt her. Not really.

But she was aiming to put me down. So I had to do something.

I raised my left hand.

A surge of electricity exploded from my palm, lightning screaming across the space between us. She didn't stop. She ran right into it. She threw her saber up, catching some of the bolts on the blade, but others arced into her limbs. She let out a gasp as her body locked up, legs failing her. She skidded across the floor, crashing hard with a groan.

Padmé and Sabé were standing at the far end of the cafeteria. They both looked frozen, faces pale, eyes wide with horror. Their expressions weren't subtle—they looked at me like I was a monster.

I looked at Padmé and said flatly, "You're kinda dumb."

She gawked at me. "Excuse me?!" she snapped, voice cracking.

I grinned under my mask. "You're excused, princess," I said with a chuckle, already turning and bolting toward the exit.

"It's Queen!" she shouted behind me, huffing in frustration.

I didn't stop.

I had a mission to finish—and they weren't going to stop me.

I blurred down the temple hallways, my boots slamming against the polished floor with each turn I made. My path twisted and curved, but I didn't stop. Every muscle in my body burned with speed and urgency as I pushed myself faster, sprinting toward the main exit of the Jedi Temple.

"Halt, Sith!"

Two Jedi suddenly jumped into my path, lightsabers ignited—one green, one blue. They moved fast, shouting orders I didn't bother listening to. They didn't hesitate, and neither did I.

The one on the left surged forward with a battle cry, saber raised. I reacted instantly—my left hand snapped out, fingers splayed as raw electricity surged through my arm and erupted from my palm. The lightning bolts tore through the air, slamming into his chest with brutal force. He let out a short, high-pitched scream before he was thrown clean off his feet. His body arced through the air and smashed into the nearest pillar with a sickening crack, his lightsaber flipping out of his grip mid-air and skidding across the floor.

He didn't get back up.

The other moved in fast, swinging for my side. I parried with a sharp twist of my sword, sparks flying as metal met plasma. I followed up with a brutal strike—slamming the pommel of my blade directly into the side of his temple. He dropped like a sack of bricks, his saber clattering uselessly to the ground.

I kept moving.

Then I had to slam my boots down hard, the impact so intense it cracked the tile beneath me. Two figures had stepped directly into my path, and I nearly ran them over.

"Whoa!" I shouted, skidding to a halt.

Anakin and his mom—Shmi Skywalker—stood there, eyes wide with confusion. I stared at them, my heart still pounding.

"Liberator!" Anakin shouted. "What's with all the noise?! Why is everyone acting like crazy nerf herders?!"

"Language, Ani," Shmi scolded gently, giving him a pointed look.

Anakin gave a pout but stayed quiet.

I took a sharp breath and looked them both dead in the eye. "Missy got taken. An evil Sith snatched her right from under us, and I have to go save her. The Jedi got tricked. They're helping the Sith an"d are trying to stop me." I explained as fast as possible.

Anakin's mouth dropped open. "Oh no! That's awful—we have to save her!"

Shmi narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. "The Jedi are helping their fabled mortal enemies? …Are they stupid?"

"Yes," I said bluntly, without hesitation. "They are… Kind of?"

"That doesn't give me a lot of confidence with my son wanting to join them..." she replied. 

Too bad I didn't have time to keep up the conversation. I straightened up, gave them both a quick salute. "Anakin, you can't come with me. It's way too dangerous. Stay here."

He looked disappointed, but nodded reluctantly. "I wanted to save the green angel…"

I turned and started running again, feet pounding against the stone. "When you grow up, Anakin!" I shouted over my shoulder. "Make sure not to go trusting creepy old men!"

"Okay!" he called back with an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

And then I was gone.

I finally burst out of the Jedi Temple, my boots slamming onto the stone steps outside.

Two Jedi were standing guard near the Temple's outer steps, both of them looking way too calm for what had just gone down inside. Their postures were loose, relaxed— clueless?

One of them stepped forward, brows drawn in confusion. "Who are you? And why the hell are you dressed like a Sith?"

Clearly, no one had informed them that the Jedi Temple had just become a full-on warzone. Well, it's not like I killed anyone or did that much damage but still. 

Actually the only reason i got out so easily was the cafeteria was full of younglings and most the Jedi chose to protect them over trying to attack me instead. 

I didn't have the time or energy to deal with another pointless fight. So I played it off.

"I'm cosplaying," I said to them both.

The other Jedi, a younger guy with a buzzcut, tilted his head slightly. "What in the Force is cosplaying?"

"Don't worry about it," I muttered, brushing past them. Looking out into the distance I asked, "Hey? Which one of those is the Senate building?"

They stared at me like I'd grown a second head, then slowly pointed across the skyline at the massive, domed structure gleaming under the sun. The Senate tower stood tall and pristine, separated from the Temple by what looked like miles of open airspace and sky traffic.

"That one," the first Jedi said, blinking. "Right across the hoverway."

I narrowed my eyes. "Great. That's... helpful."

It had only been a few minutes since the cafeteria exploded into full chaos. Palpatine couldn't have taken Missy far. She had to be nearby—still in the Senate complex if I was lucky. And I hoped I was.

"Thanks," I said, ignoring the twin looks of confusion from both Jedi.

I took off running, building up speed until I hit the edge of the platform. Then I launched myself off the stone, air rushing around me.

"WULD NAH KEST!" I roared.

The dragon shout hit like a cannon blast. My body shot forward like a fucking missile, blasting through the skyways. I rocketed between skycars, horns blaring around me. Metal and glass streaked past as I weaved between airspeeders, some of them swerving out of the way with panicked honks.

"Move, damn it!" I yelled, barely missing the side of a luxury transport.

The Senate building loomed ahead, closer by the second—but I hadn't exactly figured out how to slow down yet.

Shit.

I gritted my teeth and braced for the landing, hoping I didn't turn myself into a smear on the Senate roof.

…I almost forgot something important—dragons were absurdly lucky creatures. As a Dragonborn, apparently that luck applied to me, too.

Instead of smashing straight into stone like I fully expected, I crashed through a window. Not just any window—a conveniently cheap and breakable one.

And then I didn't just hit floor. I landed on something soft. Something warm. 

And wet.

There was a gross squelch as I rolled to my side. A nasty-smelling liquid splattered all over my armor. I winced, lifted my arm, and sniffed.

"Ugh… what the hell is this?" I muttered.

Then I looked down.

Oh...

It was blood. Alien blood.

I'd landed on top of a Neimoidian. Crushed him flat under my full weight and velocity. His neck was bent at an impossible angle, eyes wide open in permanent shock.

I pushed myself up and looked around the room.

Shit.

The entire space was full of Neimoidians. All of them dressed in regal Trade Federation attire. Half of them were already standing in panic. Some had drawn back toward the walls. A few just froze in place, like maybe if they didn't move I wouldn't see them.

I'd just crash-landed into the fucking Trade Federation's private chamber!

"Wh-Who the hell are you?!" one of them squeaked in terror.

"Wait! I recognize him!" another shouted, voice shrill. "It's the man who destroyed our droids on Naboo! He was there!"

"How is he here?!" another shouted, panic rising in his voice. "Our benefactor said he'd get rid of him!"

Sidious... 

That prick.

I scowled. My right hand lifted before I even finished thinking. Lightning surged through my arm as I cranked up the voltage and released a furious burst straight at the Neimoidian who'd shouted last.

The electricity hit him hard. He didn't even scream—his body locked up as the lightning coursed through him, then dropped like a burned-out husk, smoking and twitching.

The room fell into total silence.

Two corpses now. The others looked like they were about to shit themselves. 

"I am Dragonborn," I said slowly, my voice dropping into a deep, growling tone. Lightning arced across my armor, crawling up my arms and shoulders. "And I cannot be stopped by the pathetic might of your armies… or the Sith."

Their faces went pale. Several of them were visibly trembling.

"W–What do you want?" one of them asked, his voice quivering like a damn leaf in the wind.

Right. These were aliens who always relied on their damn machines to do the fighting for them. An alien race made up of all cowards.

I pointed at another one of them without saying a word. Another bolt of lightning blasted out, frying him in place. His screams were short and cut off by the sound of sizzling flesh. He dropped like the others.

Panic truly set in.

One Neimoidian fainted right where he stood. Another's robes went dark as he pissed himself in sheer terror.

The last conscious one dropped to his knees. "Please! Please, mighty Dragonborn! We swear! We swear the Trade Federation will never touch Naboo again! Just don't kill me! Please!"

I stared at him for a long second, then nodded.

"You're going to release everyone your droids have rounded up. All of them. No more slave raids. And you'll make reperations to the victims for all the damage you aliens did to the humans of naboo. If I find out you or your little Federation ever go near Naboo again, I will come back. And I'll keep coming back. I'll burn you out of the galaxy. Not even the Senate—the so-called most powerful force in the galaxy—will protect you from me."

He nodded so fast he looked like he was trying to shake his head off. "Yes, yes, we understand! It will be done!"

I turned without another word and walked to the large reinforced security door at the far side of the room. I reared my leg back and kicked it straight off its hinges. It crashed open with a thunderous metallic boom.

I paused in the doorway and glanced over my shoulder. "You'd better keep your word… if you know what's good for you."

Damn... that was pretty badass. 

Then I stepped into the hallways of the Senate building, it was time to find Missy!

The entire building suddenly trembled beneath my feet, almost throwing me off balance. I steadied myself quickly, eyebrows drawing tight in confusion. Did Coruscant even have earthquakes? That didn't feel natural at all.

Before I could even complete that thought, a deafening explosion echoed from somewhere nearby, rattling the hallway and shaking loose bits of ceiling tiles and dust onto my head.

Screams and shouts erupted, panicked voices of senators and aides flooding the corridors in chaos. Without hesitating, I burst into motion, accelerating rapidly to superhuman speed towards the cries.

"What the hell is going on?" a frantic voice shouted amidst the turmoil.

"Why are two Jedi fighting here?" another senator's voice echoed, thick with confusion and fear.

"Gaaaaagh!" Someone shrieked, their voice sharp and chillingly cut off.

"No! Stop killing everyone!" That was Missy's voice, clear even amidst the chaos and terror.

Hearing her spurred me on even faster.

I surged forward, smashing straight through an ornate door, reducing it to splinters with sheer force. The scene before me was stark and brutal.

Missy stood in the center of a massive, circular chamber, her green costume torn and burned, her breaths coming in ragged pants.

Across from her loomed a cloaked figure, shrouded entirely in black robes. A red lightsaber hummed ominously in his grasp, casting eerie shadows across the floor.

Even without seeing his face, I knew exactly who stood before us.

"Darth Sidious," I growled, stepping boldly forward. The Nightingale blade materialized instantly in my right hand, its reassuring weight settling comfortably into my grip.

Sidious's hidden face twisted into a hateful snarl beneath his hood. "The entire might of the Jedi Temple couldn't manage to kill you? Fucking pathetic!" he spat venomously.

I stepped protectively next to Missy—no, Vista now, because we were facing this threat as heroes. 

She managed a weary but genuine smile up at me, her eyes relieved and bright despite the exhaustion. "What took you so long? I had to rescue myself," she teased, pouting slightly even as she fought for breath.

I couldn't resist gently ruffling her hair, earning an embarrassed swipe from her. "Got here as fast as I could," I replied softly, smiling despite myself. But my smile vanished immediately when I finally noticed the room around us, littered with motionless bodies sprawled grotesquely across the polished floor.

Missy's voice grew faint, her eyes shadowed with distress. "He killed everyone. The evil Sith doesn't want anyone knowing he exists..." she whispered. "This trip wasn't really like the movies..."

Sidious threw back his head and cackled, a twisted, vicious sound echoing through the chamber. "And the best part is, everyone will believe it was you— Darth Dragonborn," he spat my title mockingly, "who slaughtered all these people. Soon enough, you and your little friend here will be the most wanted beings in the galaxy, with nowhere to hide."

Missy visibly gulped, her confidence wavering beside me. Her voice was low and anxious. "Uh oh... I can sense the Jedi coming, Silas. All of them! What are we supposed to do…?"

Sidious laughed again, malicious glee coloring every word. "It's all over. I've already destroyed the security footage and silenced every witness. The Jedi will arrive shortly, and as they destroy you, Dragonborn, I will slip away. Then, I'll reclaim the girl. All your bravado, all your pathetic heroics, will have been for nothing!"

My jaw tightened beneath my mask, fury boiling within me. I truly hated how utterly smug and annoying this bastard was. Just as I clenched my fist tighter around my blade, a sudden flash of blue filled my vision.

A glowing screen appeared directly in front of my eyes, startling me momentarily. 

A bright, glowing message appeared in front of my eyes, startlingly clear:

[Congratulations Silas Thorn and Missy Biron for completing the main quest! The evil aliens and robots are currently fleeing Naboo post-haste! The humans of Naboo have been saved!]

Missy leaned in, reading the message alongside me, and then jerked back in shock. Her eyes widened comically. "When the hell did we accomplish that? We haven't even gotten to the second battle of Naboo yet!"

I sighed. "Oh… yeah. About that. I just killed a whole bunch of aliens back there..."

Sidious's snarling voice cut sharply through our confusion. "What in blazes are you two babbling about? Nothing can save you now. Your fate is sealed!"

I chuckled despite the tension in the room. I guess this was it for now. But I'd be back someday.

"Looks like the Force itself is stepping in to save us," I said.

"The Force doesn't work like that!" Sidious spat back at me.

"Sounds like a skill issue," I retorted, pulling down my mask so he could clearly see my smirk. Our eyes met, his sinister yellow gaze glaring hatred at me from beneath his shadowed hood. "This is goodbye for now, Sith. But I'll be back. And I'll be much stronger next time. I'll kill you myself."

"No! I'm the one who's gonna kill him!" Missy interjected fiercely from beside me, determination blazing in her eyes.

Sidious opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say another word, our surroundings abruptly vanished in a dazzling flash of white.

...Suddenly, we were back in the familiar console room on the Rig. The hum of electronics and the gentle hiss of air conditioning filled the quiet space.

Clockblocker sat at the control panel, staring blankly at multiple monitors, utterly bored. He absentmindedly picked his nose, clearly unaware of our sudden appearance.

"Ew—Clock, that's fucking gross!" Missy exclaimed, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"Holy fuck!" Clockblocker yelped, leaping out of his chair in shock. His costume snagged on something as he flailed around wildly, sending him sprawling face-first onto the hard floor with an undignified thud. He pushed himself up slowly, groaning and rubbing his face. "Um... welcome back?" he mumbled sheepishly, glancing between Missy and me with suspicion. "Where the hell have you two been?"

""Star Wars,"" Missy and I replied simultaneously, voices perfectly in sync. Both of us just as tired.

Clockblocker snorted, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Yeah, right. Pull the other one."

Without missing a beat, Missy lifted her hand and ignited her lightsaber. The brilliant green blade hummed to life inches from Clockblocker's face…

He went cross-eyed as he stared at it and gulped.

Chapter 24:

– Contessa –

Contessa had been looking forward to this interaction for quite some time. 

Though—truthfully, she would have preferred to delay it just a little longer. But circumstances had shifted. The most important young man in the world had, somehow, developed a power that disrupted hers.

That was unacceptable.

Worse than that, it was dangerous.

Dangerous to her. Dangerous to the world. And, whether he understood it or not, it was dangerous to Silas Thorn as well. If she couldn't keep an eye on him, then who could?

She adjusted the brim of her wide hat, tilting it just enough to obscure most of her face.

"Door please."

…On the other side stood a modest PRT bedroom, its walls a soft gray. The bed was unmade. The air faintly steamed. Silas Thorn stood at the far end of the room, facing a mirror. He had just stepped out of the shower, water still glistening on his chest and shoulders. A towel was wrapped around his waist, and only that. And a very nice toned ass under that towel as well.

He noticed her reflection first.

His shoulders tensed, and he titled his head slowly, meeting her gaze in the mirror. "...Can I help you?" he asked, voice uncertain but not weak. Of course not, a guy like him couldn't afford to be weak. 

"Don't worry," she said lightly. "I'm only here to talk. I'm Contessa," she said simply.

He turned fully now, towel still in place, arms no longer hiding his lean, muscular frame. His skin glistened under the soft lighting, and she couldn't help but briefly note how very sculpted he was.

Rebecca, she thought with the faintest trace of amusement, would absolutely be very happy with Contessa at some point in the future for putting her and Silas on the same path. A path that was currently clouded to her though...

Silas's eyes darted up to her hat, then down again. "Nice hat," he said dryly. "But, uh... why are you in my room?"

Contessa's smile turned fond behind the brim of her hat. "You like my hat? I love my hat," she replied, almost cheerfully. "I think we're going to get along just fine."

Silas, understandably, had questions. His brows furrowed as he looked at her from across the room, towel still firmly wrapped around his waist. "Alright," he said cautiously, "so who exactly are you and why are you in my room?"

Contessa tilted her head slightly. "It would be better if you didn't know too many details just yet," she said, her voice smooth but firm. "Just know that I'm someone who wants to keep you safe. That's… complicated right now. Because my powers—my thinker abilities—they've stopped working on you. Completely."

She saw his eyes widen at that, realization dawning across his face. That reaction made her pause. He knew the reason for that, and could even control it, she figured. 

Interesting.

Her paths—her power—twitched back into motion. Her breath caught in her throat.

Her eyes widened behind her hat's brim. The threads shifted, realigned. The future flickered back into visibility, and suddenly, Silas's path to total victory— whatever that might look like —was climbing. It had risen above fifty percent. 

And she knew it would only go higher.

Whatever he was becoming, it was accelerating.

Contessa adjusted her hat, tapping the brim gently in a wordless gesture of thanks. "That fixed it," she said, voice soft. "Thank you." Then, a bit louder: "Door, please."

The portal opened behind her. She turned without another word and stepped through, leaving Silas behind in the quiet of his PRT room. 

His confused expression was absolutely adorable. 

– Silas –

"Holy fucking shit," I muttered as the towel slipped off my waist and hit the floor. My eyes were still fixed on the space in the middle of my room where a portal had just vanished—along with the woman who'd stepped out of it like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Contessa.

The goddamn boogeywoman of the Worm universe. The secret mover behind the scenes. The queen of the long game.

And apparently, she'd decided I was important enough to visit in person.

She hadn't made a threat, hadn't delivered any cryptic warnings. No, she'd just politely asked if she could "path" me again. Like it was some casual favor she was hoping I'd grant.

When I got my "Wound-in-the-Force" ability, it hadn't really sunk in that it would block all Thinkers— including her.

That could have been much worse.

Honestly? I'd expected her to be colder. Harsher. What I got was... surprisingly chill. She almost came off as whimsical actually.

...And she had a seriously cool hat. Like, annoyingly cool. It suited her in a way that felt intentional, like she knew it was the first thing anyone would notice.

I ran a hand through my short blond hair and exhaled, still standing there completely naked.

With a sigh, I padded over to the dresser and started pulling on clothes. Jeans. T-shirt. My black leather jacket. I needed something normal to ground me, even if normal had basically stopped existing in my life.

It was the morning after Vista—Missy—and I had gotten back from the Star Wars universe. And, unsurprisingly, we'd returned straight into the arms of a waiting firing squad of concerned authority figures.

First was Armsmaster, who was annoyed he never got to properly inspect my motorcycle, apparently. Then Director Piggot, who somehow managed to be less annoying and grouchy than I expected. In fact, she kinda just looked done and had just asked for a full proper written report the moment I told her I was serious when I used the word "Star Wars..." 

"I don't get paid enough for this crazy fucking town…" Piggot grumbled. I didn't accidently break her with that one, did I? Her health already wasn't that great to begin with…

And finally, Miss Militia—who I'd long since started calling Mom Militia in my head–and not just because of the way she acted.

She was fussing over the two of us like we were her actual kids. I was fine. Tired, a little sore, but fine. Missy, though... she'd taken a few hits. Literal burns and cuts, from that evil Sith asshole...

Miss Militia had gone full mom-mode the second she saw them. Next thing I knew, Missy was being bundled into the back of a PRT van with instructions to take her straight to Panacea. I'd offered to fly her there myself on my ghost bike, but I didn't even get the sentence out before Miss Militia shut it down.

"Absolutely not," she'd said, her voice making it clear there would be no argument. "I'll ride with her myself!" She might've had a mask on, but I could feel the look she was giving me.

The rest of the night had passed in a blur. The other Wards had either left or gone to bed. I didn't even get to talk to any of them, though my phone buzzed a few times. 

Vicky sent an excited string of welcome-back emojis. Amy sent a quiet, almost awkward message just saying she was glad I was okay. Sophia's message was blunt as hell: " Don't go to school tomorrow without me!"

…So there I was, hanging out in the hangar of the Rig, leaning against my bike and waiting for Sophia to show up. A low hum from the tinkertech power grid filled the air, and the echo of footsteps from some random agents or techs came and went in the distance.

I felt a tingle crawl across the edge of my senses—just barely there, like static brushing against skin. That was new. I'd started to notice it more lately, that if I really focused, I could pick up on the electrical patterns people gave off.

Bioelectricity, I guessed. Whatever it was, it gave me a subtle early warning.

Sophia stepped out of the wall like it was the most normal thing in the world. She wasn't wearing her costume, and she wasn't trying to hide the fact that she'd just phased through solid concrete. Kind of pointless now, considering she'd been outed as a cape anyway.

No more secret identity to worry about.

She spotted me and grinned, giving me that cocky look she always did. "Your powers gave you that?" she asked, jerking her chin toward the bike.

"Yep," I replied.

She stepped closer, eyeing the matte black frame and sleek curves like it was a piece of art. "Metal as fuck," she said seriously.

"It can make the rider invincible, it flies, and it goes through walls… just like a certain someone I know," I said with a grin. "How's it feel knowing a motorcycle has cooler powers than you do?" I finished with a teasing wink.

Sophia punched me in the arm for that last comment and I just laughed. 

"Does it have weapons?" she asked.

I shook my head. "Nah."

She smirked. "Then obviously not as cool as me. Now let's get to fucking school before the principal calls Piggy again and they start whining– oinking –at me!"

I swung a leg over the bike and settled in. I patted the seat behind me. "Why wouldn't they oink at me, too?"

Sophia snorted. "Because you're the PRT's new golden boy. You get up to all kinds of crazy shit and never catch heat for it. They love you."

She climbed on behind me and pressed in close, her chest flush against my back. Her arms slid around my torso, and her hands didn't just settle—they lingered. Her fingers dragged slowly across my abs, making damn sure I felt every teasing touch as they slid under the edge of my shirt to brush skin. She raked her nails lightly down over my stomach, then back up over my chest like she was deliberately mapping out muscle. It wasn't subtle. Not even close.

 "Very nice," she whispered, her tone low and teasing. I didn't need to turn around to know she was smirking. "At least," she added, her voice now smug as hell, "being your 'friend' has gotten me a lot more preferential treatment lately."

I rolled my eyes, not that she could see it, but I couldn't help the grin tugging at the corner of my mouth. This was going to be an interesting ride.

We shot out of the Rig on the ghost bike like a bullet, the engines thrumming under us as we soared into the open sky. Sophia clung tightly to my back, her legs hugging my hips and her arms wrapped firm around my torso. Her voice cut through the wind with a breathless laugh. "Now this is how a hero goes to school in style!"

I actually chuckled at that. It wasn't often Sophia sounded giddy, let alone excited. Usually, she kept everything buried under her hard, tough girl exterior. 

The wind whipped past us, sending her hair into a frenzy behind her. I felt her shift slightly, pressing in closer, and I didn't miss the way her hands crept just a little lower than necessary—like she was seeing how far she could get away with.

"Don't make me pull over," I called back, only half-joking. Not really anywhere to pull over in the air anyway.

"You wouldn't dare," she shouted in my ear.

I grinned, eyes scanning the skyline ahead. We weren't actually going to be late—there was time to kill. So instead of gunning it straight to Winslow, I dipped the bike lower, taking us out over the ocean. The sky was open and wide, the water glittering below in the morning sun.

"Taking the scenic route, huh?" Sophia asked, her voice softer now, teasing.

"Thought you deserved something pretty to look at," I said.

She gave my chest a little squeeze. "I already am."

I had to admit—it was a damn good line. Her hands were still roaming like she had something to prove, and yeah, I shivered a little. No shame in that. But I knew Sophia. Or I thought I did. 

This? This was new.

"Alright," I called back over the wind, "what's going on with you today? You're never usually this... hands-on."

I felt her hesitate behind me, just a split second, then she leaned in and said, loud enough for me to hear over the wind, "I read the mission report. The one you filed after you got back with the twerp—Vista."

There was a bitter edge to her voice when she said Missy's name, and I had a feeling I knew where this was going.

"You're jealous we went off and had a kickass adventure without you?" I asked.

"Damn right I am," she snapped. "You two got lightsabers, hyperspace, epic battles against evil aliens and robots, the whole fucking deal! Meanwhile, I was stuck here playing nice with Hebert because she joined the Wards… Haven't even gotten to see any of my friends yet either."

Taylor did what!? No one told me that last night!

Sophia continued. "And then I got to the part of the report where you mentioned your... increased libido."

I choked. Fuck. "Yeah... maybe I should've edited that part out. They told me to include every detail though..."

"I'm glad you didn't," she whispered in my ear, low and deliberate. Her fingers slipped just a little further under my shirt. "Because I fully intend to use this to get a leg up on all the other thirsty bitches sniffing around you."

I swallowed.

She kept going. " Glory Holy and her clingy-ass sister. That new bitch at school Rebecca Brown ...And then there's Emma. Don't even get me started on Emma. I don't care if she's my friend—I met you first!" Sophia said with an actual whine to her tone.

Sophia was definitely getting worked up now—jealousy, possessiveness, whatever it was, it had her pressed tight against me. And yeah, I'm not gonna lie, having her toned body wrapped around mine wasn't exactly helping my focus. I needed a damn distraction or there was no way either of us were making it to school. Instead I'd be searching for a hotel pretty damn soon, which is what I think she wanted.

But this was still Brockton Bay.

Shouting and smashing cut through the morning air. My more enhanced senses picked it up instantly, even through the rush of wind all the way up in the air. My hands gripped the handlebars tighter.

"Hang on," I growled.

"Wait, why!?" Sophia let out a startled yelp as I yanked the bike into a hard nose dive, the wind howling louder around us as we dropped like a stone. I angled us toward the boardwalk.

That stretch of the city was normally locked down tight under PRT control. Most villains knew better than to cause trouble there. Which was why I was surprised—pissed, actually—when I saw some members of the Empire gathered outside one of the most popular shops. Harassing one of the only capes in this city that chose not to beat people up every night—and instead opened up a legitimate business.

I could respect that even though I'd also gone the meathead route.

It was Parian's store.

Parian stood out front in full costume. She had both hands raised—not in surrender, but in a futile attempt to calm the thugs. "Please, this is unnecessary," she begged. "You're committing a crime on public streets. Leave before this gets worse."

The Empire goons didn't listen. They just kept going, laughing as they swung bats into her display windows. Glass burst across the pavement, mannequins dressed in her handmade costumes toppling inside.

"Shut your mouth, bitch," one of them barked. "You'll fall in line or get put in the dirt."

"It's time you show the rest of your race where your loyalties lie!" one of the bastards yelled, pointing his bat at her like he was pretending it was a sword.

Sophia saw them as we rode closer. I felt her grip change. She snarled behind me. Before I could say a word, she vaulted off the bike—thirty feet up—and phased into shadow mid-air. Her body dissolved into smoke, whipping through the air like a vengeful specter before reforming right in the middle of the group.

"Oh fuck! It's Shadow Stalker!"

"She's the one who took out Cricket!"

"Revenge for the Empire! For the true master race!"

I hovered above on my bike, watching as she tore into the group of Empire thugs with a level of brutality that was equal parts terrifying and impressive. Her fists were a blur, striking fast and vicious—throats, stomachs, ribs. One of the guys swung a pipe at her, shouting, "You're dead, bitch!"

She vanished into shadow mid-swing, his weapon cutting through nothing but smoke. "Not even close," she sneered as she reappeared behind him and drove a sharp elbow into his kidney. He crumpled with a grunt, gasping and trying to crawl away.

"Come on! There's only one of her!" another thug yelled, rallying the others.

"Yeah, one of me is all it fucking takes!" Sophia shouted back, her voice sharp and laced with fury. "You think you scare me? You think you're gonna march into my city and start smashing up people like Parian and no one's gonna make you pay for it?"

They didn't answer—one tried to shoot, but Sophia ducked under the gun barrel and punched him square in the face before phasing through the guy beside him and tripping him up mid-turn.

"Try again, Nazi fucks!" she snarled. "See what happens."

Cries of pain echoed down the street, mingled with furious, racist curses as they scrambled to land even a single hit. "Get her legs! Take her down!" one shouted, sounding more panicked than commanding. 

Another roared, "You Empire or you die!"—only to get a boot to the teeth mid-sentence.

But they couldn't touch her. Every time they tried, she flickered away like a wraith, her body twisting into smoke just ahead of each swing, reappearing behind them like death on a timer.

"Thought this was your turf?" Sophia barked, smashing a guy's knee sideways with a sickening crack. "Think fucking again, cowards!"

Another thug tried to charge her with a tire iron. She let him get close— close enough to think he had a chance —then spun into shadow and reformed behind him, grabbing his head and slamming it into the side of a parked van. "Too slow, dumbass."

Then she grabbed one of their own bats—a heavy metal one that still had flakes of paint from Parian's storefront—and went to town. No finesse. No mercy. Just raw, ugly violence.

She bashed one guy across the face so hard he collapsed like a sack of meat, then turned and nailed another straight in the crotch. He screamed and folded in half, wheezing.

"Get the fuck out of my town!" she shouted, voice echoing as she cracked another thug over the back with a wet thunk . "You racist Nazi shitstains want to play soldier? Try it somewhere else!"

Parian stood off to the side, clearly stunned. Her hands were still raised, caught mid-gesture like she hadn't quite figured out whether she should intervene or just let Sophia handle it. Her eyes were wide behind her mask, flicking between the downed bodies and the one-girl storm still tearing through the gang.

I didn't blame her. I'd seen Sophia fight plenty of times—but even I had to admit, this was a whole different level of pissed off. 

She did not like Nazis...

…I brought the bike down onto the boardwalk and killed the silent engine. I could hear the moans of a few conscious but thoroughly broken Empire thugs still groaning on the pavement.

I didn't even spare them a glance as I hopped off and made my way toward Sophia and Parian.

Sophia was mid-rant. "You're still a cape! I don't care if you don't like fighting—those guys were storming your place with bats. You could've wiped the floor with them!"

Parian stammered, clearly flustered. "I-I just didn't want to escalate—"

"Yeah, well, they escalated it the second they started smashing your windows!" Sophia shot back, rolling her eyes. "You've got powers. Use them."

Before Parian could get another word out, Sophia spun on her heel and locked eyes with me. Her entire demeanor shifted from aggressive to something else entirely—heated. She grinned like a predator spotting something she wanted.

And then she ran at me.

I barely had time to react before she jumped. I caught her by the waist as she threw her arms around my neck and wrapped her legs around my torso. Her lips crashed against mine—hot, needy. Her tongue pushed in without hesitation, demanding, shameless. It was less of a kiss and more of a full-on claim, like she'd been waiting for an excuse to do this.

I felt her grind against me as she clung tighter, nails digging slightly into the back of my neck, and I could barely think past the rush of heat shooting straight through me.

It only took me a second before I kissed her back, instinct taking over. Her tongue slid against mine, breath hot as hell, her body pressed tight like she didn't care who was watching.

From behind us, I heard Parian let out a nervous, startled little "eep."

Sophia finally pulled away with a gasp and dropped to the ground like nothing had happened. She looked up at me with a cocky grin. "What? Crippling Nazis gets me all hot and bothered."

I blinked. "Yeah, no kidding."

There was definitely going to be a conversation later about that kiss—because holy shit. Not to mention the fact I had a thing with Amy. And then there was Vicky. And… a few others who'd made their interest in me a little too obvious lately.

My inner dragon was practically preening from the attention, loving every second of it. But my human side? It knew harems weren't just messy—they took ridiculous amounts of patience, emotional balancing, and probably divine intervention. But hey… dragons were supposed to be lucky, right?

I shook the thoughts out of my head and turned to Parian. "You okay?"

She glanced at her store, still trembling a little. "A lot of my stuff's wrecked," she said, voice muffled behind the mask. "I can fix most of it with my power, but it'll be pricey. And I'm just… worried this might happen again."

Sophia snorted. "What the fuck did those Empire guys even want with you?"

Parian shifted uncomfortably, fingers tightening at her sides. "They… wanted to recruit me," she admitted. "Since they lost three of their capes, they needed replacements. And um… you both took three of them out. And then that new Ward also took down another one of their members too…"

Sophia and I turned to each other and immediately snorted in sync.

"Fucking Empire," Sophia muttered, shaking her head before giving Parian another once-over. Her tone softened just slightly. "Good job not joining those racist losers. You're not as wimpy as I thought…"

"Thanks, I guess," Parian mumbled. "And about the Empire… we wouldn't have worked out anyway," she mumbled.

I chuckled under my breath. Parian wasn't even white under that mask. Everyone just assumed it was because of the blonde wig.

Sophia and I checked the time and realized we were definitely pushing it. We had to bail before we were officially late. Not that punching Nazis wasn't a good excuse, but I doubted the school admins would be excited to hear about anything else involving Nazis so soon again.

"I'll call this in," I told Parian as I stepped back toward the bike. "The PRT'll send a few agents, maybe a Protectorate cape if they're not busy."

Parian nodded, still clearly shaken. "Thanks again. But… Silas, just be careful."

That made me pause. I raised an eyebrow. "Why? It was just Empire assholes, right? Are you worried they'll come after us next?"

Sophia scoffed. "Obviously. We already figured they'd pull some dumb revenge stunt eventually. We're ready for those pussies. All that's left are the bottom-feeders and Kaiser himself—who never crawls out of whatever hole he hides in."

Parian hesitated, then dropped the bomb. "That's just it. Word on the street is Kaiser's not in charge anymore."

I blinked. "What?"

"He got overthrown," she said. "His sister—Iron Rain—she's running the Empire now."

My eyes widened at that. Wasn't she the actual racist sister that he supposedly killed off back in canon? Oh shit— she was alive here?

Parian said Iron Rain was on a full-blown recruitment warpath, trying to drag the Empire back from irrelevance. She wanted to recover every bit of clout they lost after they went after Winslow. And according to her, me, Sophia, and the "bug girl" were at the top of their shit list.

Public enemy number one to a bunch of fascists.

Sophia actually looked thrilled. She cracked her neck and grinned, all feral confidence. "Nice when the prey comes to the hunter once in a while," she said, almost purring. "If Iron Rain comes after us, then fuck it—we'll make it rain Nazi blood."

Parian gulped again, clearly rattled but trying to stay composed. "Just… stay safe, alright? Both of you."

She gave us a final wave. I fired up the ghost bike, and Sophia slid back on behind me, arms wrapping tight around my waist as we took off. We lifted into the sky, the wind catching beneath us, and turned toward Winslow.

Maybe next time the Nazi's attacked they'd burn the damn place to the ground so we didn't have to waste our time here anymore...

– Taylor –

Taylor stood outside Winslow, nerves fluttering under her skin like the wings of the insects she always carried around now. She shifted her weight, trying to seem casual, but her fingers twitched at her sides. At least she had someone beside her—Rebecca Brown. Beautiful, confident, calm.

...And secretly Alexandria.

That part still made Taylor's head spin. Having the strongest cape in the country as "her friend" was beyond surreal, but of course she couldn't tell anyone. Not even if she wanted to.

The courtyard was full. Half the school had found some excuse to loiter just outside the front entrance. Phones were already out, cameras ready. Every eye was waiting for the same thing—Silas Thorn and Sophia Hess. Silas hadn't been seen at school since the Empire tore through the cafeteria, and apparently, that made this a spectacle worth filming.

Taylor didn't care about the spectacle. She just wanted to talk to him. Really talk. Now that she was outed as a cape, now that she was a Ward too, it felt like everything had changed overnight.

It still felt weird, calling herself a hero. Fame wasn't something she'd ever imagined for herself.

Still, at least her power had perks. The bugs gave her space. Fanboys and fangirls didn't get too close when they saw insects around her.

She hadn't exactly behaved herself lately either. Let it be known that Taylor finally understood the joys of being a petty bitch these past few days.

A few beetles in Emma's overpriced coffee. Some mosquito bites at exactly the wrong time for Madison. Nothing that could be traced to her, but Emma's loudmouth tendencies made sure everyone knew what was happening.

Not that it mattered for Emma anymore though. Now that Taylor was a WARD, the teachers took HER side.

...How the tables had turned. And just because Sophia was a ward too, didn't mean Taylor would be putting up with any shit from her for now on either!

Emma glared at her from across the quad. No insults. No snide comments. Just a hateful stare that Taylor met without flinching. Taylor flipped her the bird and smirked when Emma's face went red.

"He's here," Rebecca said calmly.

Taylor looked up and felt her stomach flutter.

A fucking flying motorcycle was descending from the sky like it belonged in a blockbuster movie. The only thing that ruined it was seeing HER on the back of his bike.

That bitch!

Sophia still had her claws in Silas, but she'd find a way to break them up soon enough. She turned to Rebecca and grinned. After all, her new best friend had promised to HELP her!