Forgre

Chapter 4:

– Amy –

After making their way through a wolf-infested forest and stumbling across some weird magic stones that apparently helped people train better as warriors, thieves, or mages—or something equally strange—Amy and her companions finally arrived in a small village called Riverwood.

Ralof had family in this village, which was lucky, because none of them had a single coin to their names. His sister turned out to be surprisingly kind and welcoming, nearly bursting into tears upon seeing Ralof alive. She thanked the group repeatedly for saving her brother, practically smothering Amy, Silas, and Hildra with gratitude. 

She even insisted they accept a small sack filled with gold coins. Amy couldn't help but grin, it was nice to finally be paid for her services. 

But by the time they finally left Ralof's sister, exhaustion weighed heavily on Amy. Spotting an inn at the center of the village, she immediately insisted they stop there. She was sore, tired, and more than ready for a break.

Ralof thanked them all again, but informed them that he couldn't stay in Riverwood. He had to regroup with what remained of his "rebel army" or whatever the hell it was. Amy still had no idea what the rebels were fighting about, and honestly, she didn't care enough to find out. She just wanted to rest.

They said their goodbyes to Ralof, who quickly disappeared back into the shadows, and then the three remaining strange companions entered the inn together. They found a table tucked away in the corner and sat down heavily, ordering food and drinks from a barmaid who eyed them all very curiously.

Amy glanced around the dimly lit room, grimacing slightly. Nothing here looked even close to sanitary, at least not compared to her standards from working in a hospital. She sighed. Still, she supposed beggars couldn't be choosers—not in whatever strange fantasy world she'd been dragged into.

If anything, Amy had always figured that if some insane, reality-bending bullshit ever happened, it would happen to her sister, Vicky—not her. Vicky would have probably enjoyed this kind of mess, heroically punching dragons or something equally stupid. Amy scowled slightly at that thought.

The barmaid placed a mug of something called "mead" in front of Amy, who eyed it skeptically before taking a hesitant sip. To her surprise, it was actually better than she'd expected. She took another drink, feeling warmth spread slowly through her chest.

As they relaxed at the table, Amy noticed Hildra smiling softly at her, while Silas casually glanced in her direction every now and then. Amy took another quick gulp of mead and decided it was time to finally put her foot down.

"Alright, you two," Amy said firmly, setting her mug down with a soft thud. She leaned forward slightly, locking eyes with both Silas and Hildra. "I need to say something. Listen carefully, because I'm not saying it again— I am not some easy girl!"

Silas immediately sat up straighter, his expression shifting into one of awkward embarrassment. Hildra simply raised her eyebrows, curious but calm, clearly interested in what Amy had to say.

Amy exhaled slowly, softening her voice slightly. "Look, I...appreciate the compliments, okay? And honestly, they've given my confidence a bit of a boost today—which I kind of needed after nearly dying to a dragon. But I'd really like it if you both cooled it for now."

Silas's face fell slightly, looking genuinely remorseful. "Sorry, Amy," he apologized quickly, sincerity clear in his voice. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Amy felt a small twinge of guilt at his apology. Silas hadn't exactly made her uncomfortable—she just didn't think it was the right moment for romance, especially considering they were literally stranded in another dimension.

"I wasn't exactly uncomfortable," she clarified, softening her voice further. "It's just—well, this isn't exactly the ideal time for flirting. We're lost, Silas. In a completely different world. It's hard enough to handle that without worrying about feelings and...stuff."

Silas nodded slowly, offering her a small, understanding smile. Amy turned her attention toward Hildra, who was still watching her carefully.

"My sincerest apologies, fair maiden," Hildra said with a gentle laugh, her voice warm and reassuring. "I only meant to lighten the mood during all this chaos. I certainly didn't intend to make you uncomfortable."

Amy couldn't stop the small blush that spread across her cheeks at being called "fair maiden" again. Still, she appreciated Hildra's sincerity and willingness to back off. She offered the woman a small smile.

"Thanks," Amy replied quietly, her irritation fading rapidly. "I know you meant well."

"Of course," Hildra responded smoothly, eyes sparkling playfully, though she kept her voice gentle. "You have my word—I'll behave myself, at least until we're safely out of danger."

Amy laughed softly despite herself, feeling some of the tension finally leave her body.

The three of them settled back into their chairs, picking at the bread and cheese the barmaid had left at the table. Amy finally turned her attention fully toward Silas again, her voice becoming serious once more.

"So," Amy began, leaning in again slightly, her brown eyes fixing firmly on Silas. "What exactly should we do now? You've apparently got some clue about what's happening in this weird fantasy world, right…?"

– Silas –

Hildra nodded thoughtfully, considering Amy's question before shifting her attention back to me. Her voice was low and cautious. "So, Silas, tell me honestly—are you both really on some quest to slay a dragon?"

As soon as the word 'dragon' left her mouth, I noticed the blonde innkeeper abruptly pause her sweeping nearby. Her posture changed completely, back straightening slightly, head tilting in our direction. Her attempt at subtlety was laughably bad—she was clearly eavesdropping. Nosy little spy.

I leaned back slightly, giving her a pointed stare. "Why don't you just come join us, Delphine?" I called out, loud enough for her to hear clearly. "I feel like this conversation might be important for you."

The innkeeper jerked in surprise, quickly turning around. She pointed innocently at herself, eyes wide with feigned confusion. "Sorry, have we met before?"

I shrugged casually, not fooled by her innocent act. "Fine, don't come over. I guess you don't want to meet the woman you're supposedly sworn to serve."

Beside me, Amy and Hildra exchanged bewildered glances. Amy arched an eyebrow suspiciously, while Hildra seemed genuinely confused. Neither of them had any idea who this random innkeeper was or why she mattered, but I certainly did.

Delphine narrowed her eyes sharply at me, her playful expression gone instantly, replaced by cold suspicion. For a tense moment, I wondered if she'd actually attack me. I discreetly shifted one hand beneath the table, feeling sparks of my newly-acquired spell flicker at my fingertips, just in case.

After another tense beat, Delphine sighed deeply, visibly frustrated, and strode over to our table, pulling out the empty chair directly across from me. She sat down stiffly, her piercing gaze locked onto mine. "Alright," she said quietly but forcefully, leaning in. "Who are you, really, and what exactly do you want?"

"My name's Silas," I began calmly, meeting her stare without flinching. "This is my friend, Amy—"

"More like acquaintances," Amy interrupted, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Don't get carried away."

I ignored her comment, exhaling slightly and gesturing toward Hildra. "And this is Hildra—the Dragonborn."

Delphine's jaw literally dropped open, her eyes widening in disbelief. "What did you just call her?"

At the same moment, Hildra turned sharply toward me, looking equally startled. Her face had gone pale beneath her golden blonde hair, blue eyes wide and disbelieving. "Excuse me—what did you call me?"

"The Dragonborn," I repeated firmly, holding her gaze steadily. "That's you, Hildra. You're the hero destined to stop the dragons. The only person in the world who can truly defeat them."

Hildra immediately shook her head, her voice rising slightly in protest. "No, Silas—that's impossible. The Dragonborn is nothing but an ancient Nord legend, a children's bedtime story. It's not real, just a myth. And I'm definitely not some hero from legend."

I shook my head stubbornly. "I promise you, Hildra, it's not a myth. And you absolutely are the Dragonborn. There's an easy way to prove it."

Hildra narrowed her eyes skeptically, still clearly doubting every word out of my mouth. "And what exactly is that?"

"In the next day or two," I explained carefully, deliberately, glancing between all three women at the table, "a dragon is going to attack the city of Whiterun. If we go there and kill it, you'll absorb its soul. That's something only the Dragonborn can do. Trust me—it's definitive proof."

The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable. Amy stared at me like I'd completely lost my mind, while Hildra still seemed torn between skepticism and a reluctant sense of curiosity. Delphine, however, leaned forward sharply, her voice harsh and demanding.

"And how exactly," she hissed through gritted teeth, "do you know all of this? How could you possibly know when or where dragons will appear, or who I secretly am?"

Before I could respond, Amy snorted loudly beside me, draining another gulp of her mead. "Good luck getting answers, blondie," she said sarcastically, shooting a pointed glare in my direction. "I've only known Silas for a few hours, and I can already confirm that both he and whatever powers he's gotten himself mixed up with are complete and utter bullshit."

I gave her an exasperated look, feeling my eyebrow twitch slightly. "Thanks, Amy. You're really helping."

She shrugged, clearly unbothered. "Just keeping it real, hero-boy. You're welcome."

Delphine crossed her arms impatiently, fixing me with an even colder glare. "I'm still waiting for an explanation, Silas. Or should I be calling you something else?"

"Nope, Silas is fine," I replied calmly, meeting her angry gaze directly. "Look, Delphine, I'm not your enemy. You have your secrets, I have mine. But right now, we're on the same side."

"How do you know my name, though?" Delphine pressed aggressively. "And how in Oblivion do you know about the Dragonborn legend?"

I sighed softly, realizing I'd have to offer something plausible. "Divination magic," I lied easily. "It's a rare gift, and it tells me things—important things. Like your real identity, your mission, and what's coming. You're with the Blades, aren't you?"

Delphine inhaled sharply at the mention of her secret organization, her body visibly tensing even further. "You're playing a dangerous game, boy," she warned quietly.

"I'm not playing anything," I retorted firmly, keeping my voice calm but steady. "Right now, dragons are returning, and Hildra here is the key to stopping them. You can either help us, or you can stay here and play pretty little innkeeper…"

I was trying a little reverse psychology here. In truth, I mostly wanted Delphine with us because she was a very experienced warrior. She would help our survival odds by a lot. 

Delphine stared at me intensely for several more seconds before letting out a frustrated sigh, leaning back slightly. "Very well," she relented bitterly. "I will journey to Whiterun with you all, but if you're lying…" she trailed off, her warning was obvious. 

Now that all the drama was out of the way, I turned shamelessly toward Delphine. "Hey, before we set out—do you have some spare weapons and armor we could borrow? The only person here with proper gear is Hildra, and honestly, even hers is pretty subpar," I explained. 

"Hey!" Hildra immediately protested, pouting at me indignantly. "This armor saved my life at Helgen, thank you very much."

I smirked at her lightly. "Yeah, barely. I'm pretty sure Amy's "magic" did most of the saving there. It certainly didn't stop the giant spider from biting you." I teased and she playfully smacked my arm.

Delphine glared at me for a long, irritated moment before finally sighing and rising from her seat. "Fine. Follow me," she said curtly, heading toward the back of the inn. I exchanged quick looks with Amy and Hildra, and we all stood up and trailed after her.

She led us down a short hallway, past a couple of empty guest rooms, and then unlocked a sturdy wooden door leading to what appeared to be her private quarters. Delphine stepped inside and gestured impatiently. "Close the door behind you," she commanded.

I pushed the door shut, then watched curiously as she stepped over to the far wall and shoved aside a large wooden cabinet. It slid away to reveal a hidden passageway with a staircase descending into darkness below the inn.

"Wow," Amy mused sarcastically. "A secret room hidden behind a cabinet? How original." She shot me a suspicious glance and lowered her voice slightly. "Hey Silas, are we sure she's not secretly a villain or something?"

"Honestly?" I whispered back, following Delphine down the stairs. "I was never really sure what she was..." She was a very paranoid bitch in the game. 

The stairs ended in a small underground room filled with shelves, chests, and a large table positioned at the center. Spread across the tabletop was a detailed map of Skyrim, marked with various locations and notes that meant nothing to me yet. What drew my attention even more were the weapons hanging on every wall. Axes, swords, daggers, maces—each one looking far more lethal and imposing than anything from the game. 

"So cool…" I murmured quietly to myself, awestruck for a moment.

Delphine waved dismissively toward the weapons around us. "Go ahead. Choose whatever stuff you're most comfortable with. But don't get greedy."

Amy immediately shook her head. "Uh, I'm a healer. I've never used a weapon in my life."

I scratched my head sheepishly, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, about that…me neither, actually. I was hoping you might have some spare magic tomes I could use instead?"

Delphine and Hildra both gaped at me, their eyes wide with disbelief. For a second, neither spoke, until Delphine finally broke the silence. "Are you stupid, boy?" she asked bluntly.

Hildra quickly added, sounding genuinely shocked, "Silas, do you not understand how valuable magic tomes are?"

"No…?" I replied hesitantly, suddenly feeling awkward. "Are they really that valuable? 

In the game, you could buy tomes from pretty much every merchant. They were everywhere.

Delphine scoffed loudly, clearly unimpressed with my answer. "Of course you can't just buy them anywhere. Magic has been strictly regulated throughout all of Tamriel since the Oblivion Crisis. And then, nearly a hundred years ago, the College of Winterhold attempted some insane magical ritual that went catastrophically wrong. It destroyed almost the entire city and half of the surrounding hold. After that disaster, magic was practically outlawed in Skyrim."

"That spell tome you found back in the tunnels, Silas? It was incredibly rare and valuable. If you'd sold it, you probably could have purchased a large estate," Hildra explained to me.

"Well, fuck," I muttered. Yet another major difference from the game I'd have to deal with. I hadn't realized magic was so restricted here. I guess it made sense from a real life perspective. 

And did she just say the College of Winterhold was destroyed? 

…My plans of eventually buying a whole arsenal of powerful spells were suddenly dashed. 

At least I had my Sparks spell—I'd have to settle for just being a knock-off Palpatine for now.

I didn't even bother asking about enchanted gear, figuring I'd get an equally disappointing answer. Instead, I shifted my attention toward the armor racks nearby, selecting a set of sturdy-looking leather armor. I strapped it over my clothes, tightening the buckles until it fit comfortably.

Amy surprised me when she shook her head, turning away from the armor racks without taking anything. "I don't need any of this stuff," she explained casually. "My costume is already bulletproof."

"Wait—seriously?" I stared at her in shock, openly inspecting her healer costume. It looked like a regular cape uniform from Earth Bet, but upon closer inspection, the fabric was noticeably thicker, reinforced beneath its plain exterior. I mentally kicked myself; of course Amy Dallon—Panacea, the most valuable healer on our world—would have custom protective gear.

She gave me an amused look. "Obviously. You think New Wave would let the world's only healer walk around without decent armor?"

"Fair enough," I muttered sheepishly. At least one of us had come to this insane new reality prepared.

Turning back to the weapons hanging ominously on the wall, I hesitated. I still had no idea how long I could actually sustain my Sparks spell before running out of magicka. Honestly, I hadn't even realized I had magicka until a few hours ago. I needed a backup plan in case I ran dry in the middle of combat.

With a sigh, I reached out and grabbed a solid-looking steel mace. It was heavy in my grip, the weight awkward but manageable. Giving it a couple experimental swings, I quickly realized my form was atrocious. I'd never swung anything more dangerous than a kitchen knife before, and it showed.

"Going for a mace?" Hildra asked curiously from beside me, clearly watching my awkward movements with amusement. "An unusual choice."

"Yeah, well, I doubt I have time to suddenly become a master swordsman," I admitted, slipping the mace securely into my belt straps. "Besides, I'm pretty sure crushing weapons might work better against dragon scales anyway—assuming I don't get roasted alive before I can even swing."

Delphine scoffed, already impatiently heading toward the stairs. "Try not to bash your own brains out, boy. I don't have time to babysit you."

"I'll try my best," I deadpanned.

We followed her back up into the inn. Delphine called out as we passed through the main hall, "I'm heading out, Orgnar! Watch the inn while I'm gone."

The large man behind the bar simply grunted and went back to polishing a mug, clearly unbothered.

Outside, Delphine and Hildra immediately turned toward me expectantly, making me feel uncomfortably self-conscious again. Both women fixed me with serious stares, obviously waiting for answers.

"Well?" Delphine asked impatiently. "You're supposedly the one with divination magic. What's our next move?"

I hesitated, mentally retracing the game's timeline. Normally, the dragon attacking Whiterun didn't happen until after you climbed that ridiculously tall mountain across from Riverwood—Bleak Falls Barrow—and stole the Dragonstone from an undead-infested tomb full of Draugr. Of course, that was probably just scripted game logic. In reality, timing might be completely different. Still, having the Dragonstone might actually matter. Or maybe not since Amy and I were going to be sticking around after the dragon anyway.

Deciding to test the waters, I carefully asked, "How do you guys feel about raiding an ancient tomb filled with undead monsters called Draugr, then fighting their boss—a Draugr Overlord who can literally shout magic at you and wields a ridiculously powerful enchanted sword?"

Delphine's eyes went wide in utter disbelief, and Hildra visibly paled beside her. Both women stared at me like I'd just suggested we slit our own throats.

"Are you completely insane?" Delphine snapped, her voice rising sharply. "That would take dozens—no, perhaps even a hundred well-trained Nord warriors. And even then, almost all of them would be slaughtered. Only suicidal fools raid Skyrim's tombs. I've never once heard of anyone successfully retrieving something from a Draugr crypt!"

Hildra nodded emphatically, her blue eyes wide with shock. "She's right, Silas. That's not just dangerous—it's impossible! Even attempting such a feat would be madness."

I blinked in surprise, digesting their reactions. It explained why all the tombs were still perfectly untouched after thousands of years. In-game, the Dragonborn was practically invincible—able to casually stroll through hordes of undead, collect treasures, and kill powerful overlords without a second thought. But here, in this real-life Skyrim, things were apparently very, very different. I suddenly understood why Delphine and Hildra were so horrified.

"Alright, alright," I said, quickly backtracking. "Forget the tomb idea for now. I think the dragon attack on Whiterun is probably inevitable anyway."

"You think?" Amy muttered sarcastically, parroting me. "So glad we're relying on your expert knowledge , Silas."

I rolled my eyes at her but ignored the jab. "Let's just head straight to Whiterun. We need to warn the Jarl and get ready for the attack. If Hildra kills that dragon and absorbs its soul, it'll prove she's the Dragonborn."

Hildra swallowed uneasily, clearly still skeptical about the whole Dragonborn thing, but she didn't argue further. Delphine crossed her arms impatiently, clearly eager to move.

"Then let's hurry," she said brusquely. "It'll be dark soon, and it's dangerous to travel after sundown. Bandits and wolves come out in force at night."

Amy groaned loudly. "Bandits? Actual bandits? Great, because wolves weren't already enough of a pain in the ass..." 

As we began walking, I suddenly stopped, feeling a nagging sensation in the back of my mind. There was something else—something important—I was forgetting about Whiterun. I frowned, rubbing my temple, trying to recall whatever crucial detail I was missing.

"You okay, Silas?" Amy asked, noticing my hesitation.

"Yeah…" I said slowly, shaking my head. "Just can't shake the feeling that I'm forgetting something really important..."

Amy raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Wonderful. That's exactly the kind of reassuring leadership I wanted to hear."

Ignoring her sarcasm again, I sighed heavily and began walking, following Delphine and Hildra toward Whiterun. Whatever I'd forgotten, I hoped I'd remember it soon—preferably before something terrible happened.

…

"Ugh…"

…Something terrible happened. 

At least, I was pretty sure it had? My ears were ringing so loudly it hurt, and I was lying face-up in the dirt, staring blankly at a blurry gray sky. Everything felt off, fuzzy, disjointed. Slowly, I became aware of someone leaning over me, but my vision refused to focus.

A soft, gentle hand pressed against my cheek, and I immediately recognized the familiar sensation of Amy's healing power flowing through me. The ringing subsided, leaving a dull, throbbing ache that faded quickly after. I blinked a few times, finally able to see clearly again.

Amy leaned over me, frowning deeply, her eyes full of concern and irritation. "You okay now, dumbass?"

"Uh…I think so," I muttered groggily, sitting up with a small grunt. Dirt clung to my clothes and skin, and I realized I was sitting in the middle of what looked like a freshly ruined farm field. Crops were trampled, fences shattered, and there were huge craters gouged into the earth.

"What the hell happened?" I asked, still feeling confused. I glanced around, noticing for the first time a group of imposing-looking Nord warriors standing nearby. All of them wore armor decorated with wolf imagery, and every single one was staring at Amy and me in open awe.

From a few feet away, Hildra smiled widely, her face splattered with blood and dirt. She was breathing heavily, clearly still worked up from whatever fight I'd missed. "That was incredible, Silas!"

Delphine stood beside her, looking distinctly annoyed as she picked dirt from her armor. She gave me a mildly irritated glance, clearly unimpressed by the situation. "Next time, try dodging."

"Yeah…I'll keep that in mind," I muttered, rubbing my temples. Dodging WHAT exactly?

Amy sighed loudly beside me. "That's twice now," she grumbled, narrowing her eyes accusingly at me. "Twice today I've broken my rules about not healing brains..."

"Sorry?" I offered sheepishly.

She just shook her head, clearly exasperated but relieved I wasn't dead. "Just don't tell anyone what I can do when we get back home."

"Your secret is safe with me."

At that moment, a strikingly attractive Nord woman walked up to us, capturing my attention immediately. She had vivid red hair spilling down her shoulders, sharp green eyes accented by tribal green face paint, and she wore minimalistic leather armor that did little to hide her impressively toned, athletic body. I recognized her immediately from the game as Aela the Huntress—though this real-life version was considerably more captivating.

"My thanks for your aid, strangers," she said warmly, giving us a friendly but confident smile. "I'm Aela of the Companions. Your timely assistance in defeating those giants was most impressive. Truly, we would have suffered heavy losses without your intervention."

"Giants?" I repeated blankly, still somewhat dazed. "We fought giants?"

Amy rolled her eyes beside me, muttering, "Yeah, well, some of us fought giants. You mostly got smacked unconscious within the first five seconds."

Aela chuckled softly at Amy's blunt comment, clearly amused. "Regardless, your contributions were invaluable. That lightning spell of yours stunned the giants enough to give us openings to strike, and your companion here saved three of our warriors from near-certain death with her remarkable healing magic. Not many survive a direct hit from a giant's club." Her eyes lingered appreciatively on Amy, admiration clear on her face.

I winced, finally realizing why I felt so disoriented—I'd apparently taken a direct hit from one of those giant clubs myself. It was a miracle I hadn't been reduced to a bloody paste.

Slowly, I climbed back onto my feet, steadying myself. Still feeling slightly off-balance, I glanced around the battlefield once more. I could now clearly see the massive bodies of two dead giants sprawled across the broken earth, huge primitive weapons lying beside them. I swallowed nervously; their enormous corpses were far more intimidating in reality than in the game.

"I appreciate the thanks," I finally said, turning back to Aela. "But I'm still a little confused about something. Don't most Nords consider magic users weak or dishonorable?" I hesitated, trying to make sense of this new reality. "I figured you warriors would disapprove of people relying on spells instead of brute strength."

Aela gave me a slightly puzzled look, then scoffed loudly. "Of course not," she replied confidently, crossing her arms beneath her chest, which drew my eyes downward involuntarily for a brief moment. I quickly forced my gaze back up to meet hers. She seemed entirely unbothered—maybe even amused—by my wandering eyes.

"Any warrior worth their steel uses whatever tools are available," Aela explained proudly. "Magic might be rare these days, but it's still a valuable weapon. I'd gladly learn spells myself if the Empire hadn't made it nearly impossible. Using magic isn't dishonorable—it's just smart."

I nodded slowly, absorbing her words. Yet another significant difference from the Skyrim I'd known in the game. Magic here wasn't just rare—it was actively suppressed, yet respected as a powerful tool by those few who understood it. I was starting to realize just how different this version of Skyrim truly was.

Amy stepped closer to me, lowering her voice with mild annoyance. "So now we're apparently impressing Nordic warrior babes who want to learn magic?" She rolled her eyes dramatically. "This day just keeps getting weirder."

Aela heard Amy's comment and laughed warmly, approaching her with an appreciative smile. "I'd certainly be interested in learning more from you, beautiful healer. You must be among the most talented restoration mages alive."

Amy blushed furiously, awkwardly looking away. "Um… thanks, I guess?"

Delphine cleared her throat impatiently, interrupting the conversation. "We need to move. Whiterun is just ahead, and we should get there before nightfall."

Aela nodded, looking toward the distant city walls. "We're returning as well. You should visit Jorrvaskr when you arrive. The Companions would gladly welcome warriors of your caliber. And if your group doesn't have anywhere to stay tonight, you're all most welcome in our halls!"

– Vicky –

Vicky Dallon sighed dramatically as she pushed her dinner around the plate, not really tasting any of it. Honestly, focusing on her mom's cooking was a waste of time anyway—it tasted terrible, as usual. She discreetly prodded a lumpy piece of what was supposed to be chicken and frowned. There was no way in hell she was putting that in her mouth.

Across the table, her mother Carol raised an eyebrow in mild annoyance. "Victoria, what's wrong? You've barely eaten a thing."

Vicky groaned loudly and dropped her fork onto the plate with an audible clatter. "Ugh, Mom. I just can't stop thinking about Amy. It's not fair—she gets to go on some exciting adventure with a cute boy, and here I am, stuck eating your weird chicken thing."

Carol narrowed her eyes sharply, clearly unamused. "First of all, it's chicken casserole. Second, you don't know that Amy's having fun. For all we know, your sister could be scared and desperate to find a way home!"

Vicky shook her head firmly, blonde hair swaying back and forth. "Nuh uh! My sister-senses are tingling, Mom. Amy's totally having a crazy time right now—I just know it!"

Her father, Mark, barely glanced up from his own meal, clearly distracted. "That's nice, honey," he muttered absently, clearly not following the conversation at all.

Carol shot him an exasperated glare before turning back to Vicky. Her tone became more condescending. "Whatever you say, sweetie. I'm sure you'll hear all about it when Amy gets back…"

"I hope Silas kidnaps me next time," Vicky whined, ignoring the stern glare her mother gave her for that comment.

Chapter 5:

– Amy –

A sudden flash of bright white light burst through Amy's vision, and for a moment, her senses were completely scrambled. She swayed dizzily, blinking rapidly until the world came back into focus around her.

When the disorientation finally faded, she looked around and realized, with a sharp pang of shock, that she was standing in her bedroom at the Dallon's home. Her own room. It felt surreal after spending days in a strange fantasy land.

Then her gaze drifted downwards, and Amy's face flushed crimson as she remembered exactly what she'd been doing just moments before. She was still completely naked, her bare skin flushed and tingling, nipples hardened into stiff peaks, and the unmistakable slick warmth between her legs... 

She'd been seconds away from losing herself in pure, incredible pleasure—and now, she was standing here, achingly frustrated, alone in her goddamn room.

She balled her fists tightly, grinding her teeth. "Son of a fucking bitch!" Amy growled aloud, her voice thick with both embarrassment and disappointment.

Her angry shout immediately attracted attention. Loud footsteps came pounding down the hall, the unmistakable sound of her sister's eager pace. Before Amy had time to dive for cover, her bedroom door flew open, slamming loudly against the wall as an excited blonde blur rushed inside.

"Amy, holy shit! You're back!" Vicky cried breathlessly, eyes sparkling with excitement. "I've been going crazy imagining all the cool—"

Her sister's enthusiastic voice abruptly cut off, eyes widening dramatically as she finally registered Amy's current state—standing there fully naked, clearly aroused, and obviously flustered. Vicky's mouth dropped open as her gaze flicked down over Amy's exposed curves, her face instantly turning bright scarlet.

"Oh my God!" Vicky squeaked, quickly spinning around and slapping her hands over her eyes in panic. "I'm sorry! Shit—I didn't realize! Um…I'll just…yeah!" She rushed out of the room, practically throwing the door shut behind her with a loud bang.

Amy groaned loudly, hiding her burning face in her hands. She'd never felt so embarrassed in her entire life. Her cheeks blazed hotter than they'd ever felt before, matching the wild flush spreading across her neck and chest.

"This is all your fucking fault, Silas," she muttered under her breath, humiliation swiftly giving way to irritation. "Your stupid, bullshit power ruined the best moment of my life—and now my sister's seen me naked. I swear I'm going to kick your ass when I see you again!"

Letting out a heavy sigh, Amy hurried over to her closet, quickly rifling through clothes in search of something comfortable to pull on. She grabbed a loose T-shirt and her favorite sweatpants, slipping them hastily over her still-sensitive body. Her breathing gradually slowed, but the vivid memory of Silas and Hildra's touches still made her lower lips throb insistently between her legs.

She paused for a moment, biting her lip, trying desperately to get herself under control. How the hell was she supposed to face Vicky—and worse, her mother—like this?

A second later, Amy heard Vicky excitedly shouting downstairs to their mother. "Mom, Amy's back! She just appeared out of nowhere in her room! She's okay, she's safe! I saw her—I mean, she's definitely fine, just…uh, don't rush up there yet, maybe let her get dressed first!"

Amy closed her eyes in utter mortification, picturing Vicky awkwardly dancing around the topic downstairs. God, this was going to be impossible to live down.

She took a few slow, steadying breaths, forcing herself to relax. "Fuck it," she murmured. "If I can survive a goddamn dragon attack, I can survive one embarrassing night at home."

– Silas –

A sudden flash of white light engulfed my vision, and my stomach lurched violently, making me nearly lose my balance. I swayed, struggling not to fall flat on my face, and groaned loudly, a deep frustration immediately taking hold.

"Fuck me," I muttered bitterly, recognizing in an instant that I was no longer in Whiterun—nor was I about to finally enjoy the first incredible sexual experience of my life! 

Nope. Instead, I found myself standing stark naked in the middle of a cold, damp, garbage-filled alley.

We'd slain an actual dragon…

Somehow, impossibly, we'd succeeded. Although, if I was being honest, it wasn't exactly heroic or easy. It turned out that killing a dragon in real life was significantly harder than the game implied. 

It had taken every single able-bodied Nord in Whiterun to join the fight—soldiers, guards, even townsfolk armed with farming tools—all frantically battling that giant, fire-breathing monster. And even then, we'd suffered casualties, despite Amy's extraordinary healing powers.

But in the end, the dragon was slain. I'd even managed to land several powerful lightning blasts that helped immobilize the beast at key moments, something that made me feel like a true badass. 

Hildra, of course, had delivered the killing blow, her sword carving through the dragon's hide and deep into its chest, silencing its furious roars permanently.

Then, right as we'd all caught our breath, something extraordinary had happened. The dragon's enormous body began to disintegrate, its scales flaking away and its flesh evaporating into a shimmering golden-white aura. I'd watched in amazement as the swirling energy surged straight toward Hildra— exactly as I'd expected. 

But what shocked me completely was when a powerful portion of that energy flowed straight into me as well!

I was a Dragonborn too!?

My heart had hammered wildly in my chest as the power rushed through me. In that instant, my body felt immeasurably stronger, my reflexes sharper, my vision clearer and more vivid. It was exhilarating, intoxicating even!

Around us, the gathered crowd had erupted into wild cheers, chanting the Dragonborn's praise—Hildra's praise, obviously—but mine as well! 

But Hildra had no interest in celebrating with any of them. Instead, Hildra turned towards me and Amy with a look of fierce, almost primal hunger burning in her eyes. There had been no mistaking that look—especially when Hildra grabbed both Amy and me by the wrists, a playful, confident smile spreading across her face. "Come. We deserve a proper celebration! We are all going to fuck…" she'd purred in a low, husky voice that immediately made my cock stir with excitement.

"Waaaa–What!?" Amy sputtered. Amy glanced at me nervously, her cheeks flushed.

My brain had short circuited as well, but it quickly rebooted and I was all for it! A heated threesome where both Amy and I would finally lose our virginities to the fierce, beautiful Nord warrior who'd just absorbed a dragon's soul alongside me! "That sounds amazing!"

I was half expecting Amy to pull away and say "no thanks," after all, she had given that whole speech about "not being easy" earlier… 

But that speech of course had been before we all risked our lives taking down a dragon that was probably as dangerous as Lung…

Instead she just sighed and grabbed both of our hands as Hildra led us back to one of Whiterun's inns. Once inside, all inhibitions vanished instantly as clothes were rapidly discarded. My mouth had gone dry at the breathtaking sight of Amy's full, beautiful curves revealed to me for the first time. Her creamy skin flushed pink, darkened nipples peaked stiffly, and the enticingly slick lips between her legs visibly glistened in the lantern-light of the room.

Hildra, too, had stripped confidently bare, her lean, athletic figure proudly on display, muscles defined beneath smooth, tanned skin. Her breasts were firm and enticing, nipples erect and inviting, and she'd given both Amy and me a slow, openly appreciative look, licking her lips teasingly. 

My cock had immediately hardened to an almost painful degree, blood pulsing thickly as my eyes hungrily traced both gorgeous women's naked forms, my mind racing through all the pleasures we were about to share—

And then the goddamn prompt appeared.

[Mission Accomplished! Now returning Host and designated partner home!]

Amy had barely had time to gasp out a startled curse of her own before the flash of blinding white light overtook everything—and I'd abruptly found myself here, naked and alone in this filthy alleyway.

…I stared blankly at the graffiti-stained walls, the piles of trash, and the rusty dumpster behind me. 

Yeah, definitely Brockton Bay again. Shit. My system couldn't have waited a couple freaking hours!? 

"Did you seriously get mugged again, S-Guy? Why are you naked in a dark alley?"

I slowly tilted my head upwards and saw a lithe figure standing casually on the rooftop ledge, silhouetted against Brockton Bay's smoggy skyline. 

Shadow Stalker— Brockton Bay's resident vigilante turned Ward—was peering down at me.

Before I could even respond, her body dissolved into a smoky black mist and reformed neatly beside me, her dark cloak fluttering softly around her shoulders. She turned, casually looking me over from head to toe, eyes narrowing slightly beneath her dark mask. Her gaze lingered shamelessly on my naked body.

She tilted her head slightly. "Nice cock," she said bluntly.

I felt heat flood my cheeks, but I forced an awkward grin, determined not to let her rile me up. "Hello to you too, Shadow Stalker," I replied dryly.

With memories of another world—another universe—I knew exactly who and what Shadow Stalker was. Sophia Hess, a bitter bully who tormented Taylor Hebert relentlessly, indirectly causing her tragic trigger event. 

I knew Sophia wasn't exactly one of the good guys, not deep down.

Still, things had clearly shifted in this reality. She was older here, around my age, and even shared a couple of my classes at school. More importantly, she'd saved my life the other night, carrying me all the way to Panacea when I'd been bleeding out from that head wound. 

Despite her reputation from my old world, that act had earned her a decent measure of genuine goodwill from me.

My awkward smile softened into something more sincere. "No, I didn't get mugged," I told her honestly.

She raised an eyebrow skeptically, cocking her hip in a challenging posture. "So what then? You secretly some kind of creepy exhibitionist streaker now? That how you get off?"

"What? No! That's not—I mean, fuck, no," I sputtered indignantly. But after a moment, I sighed in resignation. Fuck it. Amy and Vicky already knew who I was, which meant all of New Wave probably knew too by now. Hell, the Protectorate was probably getting a full debrief as we spoke. Keeping my cape identity secret didn't seem realistic anymore.

I took a deep breath, deciding on honesty. "It was my power, okay? My powers teleported me here like this." I carefully left out the fact that I'd been about five minutes away from losing my virginity in an incredibly hot threesome. She definitely didn't need to know that.

Shadow Stalker folded her arms skeptically. "Uh huh. Your powers made you naked?" she mocked. "Convenient."

With a slightly irritated huff, I waved my hand sharply, conjuring up my system interface. A translucent blue screen appeared in front of me, softly glowing with text and statistics visible to her as well as to me.

She jumped back instinctively, reaching for her crossbow on reflex. After a second of wary scrutiny, she relaxed slightly, realizing it wasn't dangerous.

"Told you," I smirked triumphantly, folding my arms confidently across my chest—then immediately remembering my nudity and awkwardly dropping my hands to cover myself again. "It's part of my cape powers. You know—the ones I apparently got after you saved my life the other day." I hesitated, then looked her straight in the eyes. "Seriously, thanks for that. I owe you big."

I was trying to be as disarming as possible here.

She stared at me for a moment, clearly caught off guard by my earnestness. For a second, beneath her tough exterior, I glimpsed a flicker of genuine awkwardness. She shifted uncomfortably, looking away slightly. "...You're welcome, I guess," she muttered after a moment, her bravado clearly shaken by honest gratitude.

Turning back to my system screen, my eyes widened in surprise as I noticed something new—a flashing notification alerting me to the availability of an "Inventory," as well as multiple reward notifications.

"Holy shit," I murmured in excitement, quickly clicking the inventory button. To my relief, I saw my clothes neatly stored inside. But next to them, unmistakably was an icon for Panacea's iconic white-and-red costume. 

"Oh fuck..." I groaned quietly. 

If Amy's hero outfit was in my inventory, then she was definitely teleported back to Brockton Bay naked as well… 

Giving it back later was going to be awkward…

My eyes scanned further down my inventory list—and then I froze completely, staring in stunned disbelief!

Because beneath our clothes were more items—items I'd never possessed or even seen in Skyrim. My jaw dropped open. There, clearly labeled, were "Nightingale Armor" and a "Nightingale Blade!"

"No fucking way," I whispered breathlessly, heart hammering with excitement. I clicked eagerly on the Nightingale Armor.

Immediately snug-fitting armor crafted from midnight-black leather and sleek, flexible material appeared on my body. My face was instantly covered by a form-fitting cowl and hood, the material incredibly comfortable and surprisingly breathable.

Shadow Stalker let out a low, impressed whistle nearby, looking me over appreciatively. "Well, shit, S-Guy. That's actually pretty badass," she conceded reluctantly.

"The name's Silas," I said calmly, voice coming out smooth and slightly muffled beneath the full-face cowl. I felt powerful and confident for the first time—like a real cape. I flexed my fingers experimentally, marveling at the perfect fit and incredible ease of movement the armor provided. "I haven't come up with a cape name yet though…"

She shrugged casually. "Whatever you say, Silas." Shadow Stalker stood there for a second, giving me another long, speculative look from behind her dark mask. She tilted her head slightly. "So, Silas," she finally drawled. "You gonna come patrolling with me tonight or what?"

I blinked, genuinely surprised by the offer. From everything I remembered from the original Worm storyline, Sophia Hess didn't exactly play well with others. She usually preferred to hunt alone, picking fights with thugs and gangsters on her own terms. Inviting someone else—especially a relatively inexperienced cape like myself—to join her nightly hunt wasn't something I'd expected from her at all.

Still, it wasn't like I had anything better to do right now. And after getting literally teleported away from the hottest situation of my life, I had plenty of pent up frustration that desperately needed an outlet. 

Maybe roughing up some gang members would help clear my head a bit.

"Yeah, sure," I replied easily, nodding at her. "Sounds like fun."

"Fun he says…" Shadow Stalker snorted lightly, clearly amused at my choice of words. Shadow Stalker turned towards the rooftops. "Come on, then," she said lightly, dissolving effortlessly into dark, shadowy mist. She drifted gracefully upward to the roof's edge before reforming, glancing back over her shoulder to taunt me. "Or do you need me to carry your ass again?"

I raised an eyebrow beneath my cowl. Maybe before my little Skyrim adventure and the dragon-slaying, soul-absorbing escapade, climbing buildings would have been a struggle. 

But now? 

Now, I was something completely different. I was a fucking Dragonborn, and the strength I'd absorbed from that dragon soul had seriously amped up my physical capabilities. My muscles felt stronger and more responsive than ever before—ready to test out their newfound power.

"No thanks," I retorted confidently, crouching slightly to prepare myself. "I think I've got it covered this time."

I could see Shadow Stalker's body shift, obviously interested to see if I'd actually manage to back up my cocky words.

Drawing in a quick breath, I pushed off the ground with explosive force. To my amazement, I surged upward effortlessly—vaulting more than ten feet into the air in a single bound. The fire escape railing blurred past, and I easily caught hold of it one-handed. Then I swung myself upward again, twisting smoothly to land gracefully on the rooftop right beside Shadow Stalker.

She let out a sharp whistle. "Damn," she muttered. "Not bad for a new trigger. Now let's go find some bad guys to rough up."

– Sophia –

…She stood quietly atop the warehouse roof, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully beneath her dark mask as she observed Silas from above. Below, in the shadowy alley, the rookie cape was busy beating the shit out of a few street-level dealers. They weren't exactly the toughest guys she'd ever seen—small-time punks who were probably more used to bullying kids and selling dime bags to junkies than fighting. 

Still, it gave her a good look at what he was capable of.

Honestly, Silas didn't have a fucking clue what he was doing combat wise. His stance was sloppy as hell, and his punches were telegraphed so obviously. 

But the thing was, he was an obvious Brute. 

He was so damn strong and quick that it barely mattered. Silas moved with a shocking burst of speed, dodging wildly swung knives and shrugged off desperate punches like they were nothing. When one dealer actually got a lucky stab into his chest, the blade simply glanced harmlessly off that sleek black armor he wore. Bulletproof, blade-proof, and fucking sexy looking, she had to admit. It fit him like a glove, highlighting his toned physique perfectly, especially those defined abs and strong arms.

"Not bad, rookie," Sophia murmured under her breath, her lips twisting into an amused smirk as Silas caught one thug's wrist mid-swing and effortlessly slammed him into a brick wall. The thug crumpled instantly, knocked out cold. "Not good, but not bad."

She shifted her weight slightly, crossing her arms as she continued watching him work. Despite his inexperience, there was definitely potential here. Maybe with some proper training, he'd actually be a halfway decent cape. Hell, she wouldn't mind coaching him personally. 

She'd always preferred to work alone, true, but something about this guy got under her skin—something dark and hungry beneath that handsome, annoyingly charming surface. Her instincts whispered to her, warning her Silas wasn't as harmless as he looked. Despite his easy-going smile and admittedly pretty face, everything about him screamed predator. 

And fuck, that turned her on way more than she liked to admit.

Not to mention, he was packing some seriously impressive equipment. The vivid memory of seeing him stark naked back in that alley earlier was burned deliciously into her mind. Sophia smirked beneath her mask, licking her lips slowly at the vivid recollection of his cock. Nice and thick, definitely big enough to keep any girl satisfied—herself especially. 

'Damn,' she thought idly, Emma would never let her live this down if she knew. Emma would probably tease her mercilessly, laughing her ass off at the idea of Sopia finally admitting she wanted to fuck some guy. 

Sophia rolled her eyes, maybe she'd keep this particular "crush" quiet for now…

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a familiar beep from her comm earpiece. She sighed loudly, annoyed at the interruption. Who the hell was on console tonight, anyway? If it was Kid Win again, she was going to tear him a new one—

"Shadow Stalker?" Vista's irritatingly squeaky voice piped into her ear, hesitant but authoritative as always. 

Fucking great. It was the little kid…

"What do you want, Vista?" Shadow Stalker snapped, instantly irritated. She didn't hate the little girl exactly, but Vista always acted like she had a ten-foot pole jammed up her ass. For a kid her age, she took everything way too seriously. "I'm kinda busy right now."

"You're deviating from your assigned patrol pattern," Vista replied primly, sounding way too responsible and mature for someone who hadn't even hit puberty yet. "You're supposed to report any deviation immediately."

Shadow Stalker groaned aloud, rubbing her temples beneath her mask. "Relax, short stuff," she drawled irritably. "I ran into a new cape and decided to show him the ropes. He's taking down a couple low-level shitheads as we speak. Nothing to get your panties twisted about."

There was a short pause as Vista processed that, her voice hesitant when she replied. "Uh, you know you're supposed to call in something like that first, right?"

Sophia ground her teeth impatiently. God, this little girl seriously needed to loosen the fuck up. "Yeah, yeah. I'll fill out a damn incident report later," she muttered dismissively. "Just chill, alright? I'm handling it."

Another brief silence, and then Vista's voice came back, this time sounding even more hesitant. "Um… I think I'm going to notify Miss Militia, just in case. She's not far from your location."

Shadow Stalker straightened sharply, her annoyance quickly morphing into outright anger. "Are you fucking kidding me, Vista?" she snapped. "You're gonna narc on me over this shit? Grow up."

Vista's voice became even smaller, clearly uncomfortable. "It's protocol, Shadow Stalker. Sorry, I have to report—"

Sophia hissed irritably through clenched teeth, cutting her off sharply. "Fine, report it to Miss fucking Militia," she snapped, acid dripping from her tone. "Tell her I'm doing exactly what Wards are supposed to fucking do—helping new capes instead of ignoring them. You done wasting my time now?"

She heard Vista sigh heavily through the comm. "Fine. Just…be careful, okay?"

Sophia snorted softly, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Whatever, kid," she retorted dismissively, cutting the connection sharply before Vista could reply again.

Fucking annoying, squeaky little tattletale. The last thing she needed was Miss Militia on her ass, nagging her about protocol bullshit again. Why did the Wards have to make everything so fucking complicated?

Now Sophia wanted to hit something too. And she thought her opportunity was coming as she saw a woman in costume flying towards them! The woman rode on a floating metal disk, hovering lazily above the buildings as she approached.

"Rune…" Sophia hissed under her breath, her voice low and full of venom. She hated the fucking Empire.

She shifted into shadow form without hesitation, slipping silently down from the rooftop to land smoothly beside Silas in the alley. He turned, noticing her tense posture immediately.

"What's wrong?" Silas asked quietly, following her gaze up towards the sky, where Rune was drifting closer.

"Empire Eighty-Eight," Sophia spat quietly. "Specifically Rune. Fucking racist Nazi bitch."

He visibly tensed, adopting a wary stance. 

Good, Sophia thought approvingly. At least he knew enough to take this seriously.

Rune finally dropped lower, obviously spotting them. "Well, well," Rune sneered mockingly, crossing her arms arrogantly. "If it isn't Brockton Bay's token diversity hire. What's up, Shadow Stalker? Didn't know you were still pretending to matter."

Sophia grit her teeth angrily beneath her mask. The Empire didn't have definitive proof she was black yet, but she knew they'd suspected it for years, given how ruthlessly she'd targeted them when she'd still been a vigilante. 

"Piss off, you racist cunt," Shadow Stalker snarled back venomously, her gloved fingers twitching impatiently towards her crossbows. "Before I shove a fucking bolt up your ass."

Rune laughed mockingly, rolling her eyes. "Please. Like I'd ever get hit by your shitty little toys."

The blonde's gaze slid slowly away from Sophia, now landing curiously on Silas. Rune tilted her head slightly, her arrogant expression melting into a seductive smirk. "Well hello, new guy. You're certainly not on the Ward's pathetic roster—I'd remember a guy built like you." She licked her lips suggestively, openly ogling Silas's toned, leather-clad figure. "Why waste your time hanging around someone as…inferior as Shadow Stalker? Why don't you do yourself a favor and join the winning side?"

Sophia's fists clenched tightly, rage building swiftly in her chest. She opened her mouth to spit a retort—but before she could, Silas calmly raised his hand, fingers outstretched towards Rune.

Rune barely had time to raise a single mocking eyebrow in confusion. "What the fuck are you—"

Bright, crackling lightning erupted violently from Silas's open palm with a deafening snap, striking Rune dead center. The racist cape shrieked in agony, her entire body convulsing uncontrollably as powerful arcs of electricity danced across her form. Her powers immediately faltered. She fell hard, hitting the ground with a satisfying, painful-sounding crack. Rune writhed and twitched helplessly on the pavement, a small moan of pain escaping the racist bitch's lips before she finally fell still, unconscious.

"Don't talk to her like that," Silas growled softly, slowly lowering his hand as tendrils of electricity still flickered around his fingers.

Sophia stood frozen, mouth agape beneath her mask, heart pounding wildly with exhilaration. She couldn't help herself—a loud, delighted cackle burst uncontrollably from her lips, echoing harshly through the empty alleyway. 

"Holy shit! Did you just fucking electrocute her?" she asked incredulously, still laughing hysterically.

"Yeah. She deserved it," Silas said.

Sophia's laughter doubled, nearly doubling her over. Rune—the arrogant, racist bitch—had talked so much shit, then got fucking demolished by a rookie cape in two goddamn seconds!

Seeing him easily wreck one of her worst enemies had Sophia's blood pumping, and she felt herself growing wet between her legs. She clenched her thighs together slightly, savoring the rush of excitement coursing through her body.

"You never mentioned you could fucking shoot lightning," Sophia finally managed to say. "That was metal as fuck."

Silas shrugged nonchalantly, glancing down at Rune's unconscious, smoking form without remorse. "You never asked. So...what should we actually do with her now?" he asked casually. The faint amusement in his voice suggested he wasn't exactly worried—but he clearly wanted Sophia's input, probably deferring to her experience as an established Ward.

Sophia crossed her arms. A hundred vindictive thoughts raced through her head instantly—each one nastier and more humiliating than the last. She imagined stripping Rune completely naked, binding the arrogant blonde tightly to a flagpole in the middle of Empire territory, gagging her mouth shut while leaving her fully exposed and vulnerable, helplessly squirming under the mocking gaze of every gangbanger, thug, and rival cape that passed by.

The vivid, humiliating image burned deliciously in Sophia's mind, and a slow, vindictive grin spread beneath her mask. 

Fuck, she'd love to see the bitch utterly humiliated—maybe snap some embarrassing pictures for PHO!

Her grin broadened. Sophia opened her mouth to eagerly voice her sadistic suggestion—but just as she was about to speak, the low, unmistakable rumble of a motorcycle engine interrupted her thoughts. Sophia cursed under her breath, feeling immediate frustration tighten her muscles. "Shit. Looks like the fun's over."

Silas followed her gaze, instantly tensing up again as he watched the motorcycle glide smoothly to a stop at the alley's entrance. 

Miss Militia gracefully hopped off and waved at them. "Shadow Stalker," Miss Militia said sharply, her voice calm but distinctly firm as she surveyed the scene before her. "Vista told me you'd picked up a... guest on patrol. Mind introducing us?"

– Silas –

Miss Militia surprised me. When she'd first pulled up on her motorcycle and hopped off gracefully, I'd prepared myself for an interrogation. Instead, she extended a friendly hand.

"Hello there," she said warmly. "I'm Miss Militia, with the Protectorate. Welcome to the cape scene here in Brockton Bay—our wonderfully crazy city."

I chuckled softly at that, shaking her hand. "Crazy feels like you're underselling it a bit, honestly."

She smiled beneath her American flag scarf. "I suppose it does. Still, welcome."

Next to me, Shadow Stalker shifted uneasily, probably waiting for some kind of reprimand. She looked openly surprised when Miss Militia turned towards her and nodded approvingly.

"And you, Shadow Stalker—good job looking out for our new cape here," Miss Militia said. "Nice work."

Shadow Stalker flinched in shock. I figured the compliment was unexpected since I knew Sophia was on some kind of probation. She recovered quickly though, folding her arms confidently in front of her chest. "Damn right I did a good job," she declared, clearly pleased with herself. "I'm the best Ward you've got, after all!"

Miss Militia rolled her eyes in playful annoyance before turning her attention back towards me, her eyes catching sight of Rune, still sprawled unconscious on the ground.

"Oh," Miss Militia said mildly, gesturing towards Rune's twitching, unconscious form. "And what exactly were the two of you planning to do with her?"

I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly. I honestly hadn't thought that far ahead yet. "Not really sure, actually."

Shadow Stalker made a frustrated noise in her throat and grumbled darkly, "Could always dump her ass in the bay. Nobody would miss her racist bullshit."

Miss Militia sighed patiently, clearly used to this kind of suggestion from Shadow Stalker. "Unfortunately, we can't do that," she explained calmly. "Heroes, remember? What we can do is bring her back to the Rig. She'll be interrogated and face justice properly."

She turned towards me again, clearly considering something. I noticed her eyes studying my sleek black armor with curiosity and approval. "You know, new guy," Miss Militia said thoughtfully, "You seem capable. You might do really well in the Wards program. You'd always have a team at your back, access to Protectorate resources, and you'd even get paid." She smiled encouragingly, clearly giving me the full recruitment pitch.

I tapped my finger thoughtfully against my masked chin, genuinely considering her offer. 

Did I want to operate solo in this city, facing gangs and villains alone, or would it be smarter to have government backing—especially knowing all the shadowy strings being pulled in the background by Cauldron and whoever else might secretly run things?

Honestly, the answer to that question felt pretty obvious to me. With New Wave already knowing my identity, and half the Protectorate probably about to find out anyway, going solo didn't seem like a particularly smart option.

After a moment, I nodded firmly. "You know what? Sure. I think I'll give the Wards a shot. Can't hurt to see what you guys have going on."

"Kick ass!" Shadow Stalker exclaimed, sounding genuinely pleased that I'd said yes. "Finally a teammate that's not an idiot or a pussy!"

Miss Militia seemed mildly surprised, though clearly pleased. "Huh… Most new capes usually say no when we first ask," she muttered quietly to herself. She didn't seem to realize I could clearly hear her. "And things usually don't work out so well for them later..."

I winced slightly, hearing that little observation. Considering the villains Brockton Bay had, I wasn't exactly shocked that solo capes rarely lasted long around here.

Miss Militia pulled out a phone, already moving into action mode. "Alright, let me call in some backup to help transport Rune, then we'll head back to base together." Miss Militia finished calling in backup and turned to us. "Alright, they'll be here shortly. Let's get moving."

I gave one final glance down at Rune, who was still out cold, the occasional involuntary twitch running through her body from the lightning I'd shot through her. Honestly, I wasn't feeling any remorse. She'd been an arrogant, racist asshole who completely deserved the shock.

…

Some of what Miss Militia had said earlier hadn't fully registered with me until we were already in the armored van heading towards the Rig. It suddenly clicked into place, and I blinked under my cowl, looking at her in surprise.

"Wait a second," I said, interrupting the silence as the vehicle rolled steadily onward. "Did you say earlier that you're the leader of the Protectorate now? I thought Armsmaster had that job?"

Miss Militia nodded, turning towards me with a patient expression. "Until recently, yes. That's a very new change—actually just a few days old. Director Rebecca Costa-Brown ordered the switch herself."

I raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. Costa-Brown was Alexandria, the leader of the PRT, and a member of the "illuminati!"

If she was personally stepping in to shuffle stuff around here in Brockton Bay, that had to be significant. I wondered what the reason was? Canon was officially out the window at this point already. 

Miss Militia must have noticed my surprise because she smiled a little beneath her scarf. "It caught all of us off guard too," she admitted. "Armsmaster wasn't happy about it at first, obviously—getting demoted never feels great. But once it sank in that he didn't have to babysit everyone anymore and could focus entirely on being a Tinker and a frontline hero, he warmed up to the idea. Honestly, he seems relieved now."

Shadow Stalker chuckled quietly from her seat beside me, leaning back casually and crossing her arms. "He should have fucked off sooner. He was a pain in the ass when he tried to boss everyone around!"

Miss Militia shot her a warning look but didn't reprimand her for the comment. She just sighed softly and turned her attention back to me. "Anyway, that also means I'm directly in charge of the Wards now."

Shadow Stalker snorted again, louder this time. Under her breath, just loud enough for everyone to hear, she muttered, "Great. Mommy Militia strikes again."

Miss Militia groaned softly, rubbing her temple with one gloved hand. "Please don't call me that," she said tiredly. "I'm never going to escape those PHO memes, am I?"

Shadow Stalker laughed openly this time. She was definitely acting differently than I had expected. She was still dark and broody, but not THAT dark and broody…

Unless this had all been an act or something…?

But I didn't think it was at the moment.

The van slowed briefly as we passed smoothly through the shimmering force field surrounding the Rig, and I turned my attention toward the reinforced windows, half expecting trouble. Miss Militia visibly relaxed as we crossed the threshold safely, breathing a small sigh of relief.

"Glad the Empire didn't try anything crazy to get Rune back," she said quietly, glancing at the unconscious girl secured firmly in restraints at the back of the vehicle.

I leaned forward a bit, lowering my voice cautiously. "Do they even know you've got her yet?"

Miss Militia's expression hardened slightly, her eyes narrowing in frustration. "We're not entirely sure yet. Unfortunately, the local PRT has been dealing with some internal issues lately. We're finally in the process of clearing out moles from the organization." She growled the word 'finally' with palpable irritation. "But we haven't gotten them all yet. There's still a possibility information leaks back to the Empire."

I blinked, processing this new information. More surprising changes!

Did that mean Coil was fucked too!? He was honestly the only reason I was hesitant to join the Wards in the first place, but I would honestly have not cared about outing him immediately if it meant protecting myself.

Clearly, things were shifting dramatically behind the scenes here, and fast.

…

I was sitting in Director Emily Piggot's office. She was a round woman with a stern, serious face, and sharp, assessing eyes. From everything I'd heard before, Piggot was notorious for not liking parahumans all that much—and honestly, just sitting there across from her, I was definitely getting that vibe.

Armsmaster and Miss Militia stood quietly behind her, watching me carefully. Armsmaster stood perfectly still in full armor, while Miss Militia seemed more at ease, casually leaning against the wall and watching the exchange with interest.

Piggot folded her hands neatly in front of her on her desk, and stared straight at me. "First things first. Do you have a hero name selected yet? And would you prefer to unmask during this conversation, or remain masked?"

I hesitated for a second, glancing towards Armsmaster. "Do you guys already know who I am under here?"

Armsmaster nodded once, his voice crisp behind his helmet. "Affirmative. We're aware of your civilian identity."

I sighed heavily. Honestly, I expected as much. Keeping secrets from the Protectorate would have been nearly impossible at this point. "Alright, fine."

I raised one hand and summoned my inventory screen. The translucent, glowing blue interface popped into existence right in front of me, causing everyone in the room—including Armsmaster—to flinch slightly in surprise.

Ignoring their startled reactions, I clicked calmly on the armor icon. Instantly, my Nightingale armor disappeared, leaving me in my leather clothes from skyrim. 

Armsmaster immediately leaned forward. "Impressive," he murmured eagerly, immediately entering 'Tinker mode' and speaking half to himself. "Some form of extra-dimensional storage combined with a holographic control interface? Very useful—perhaps some form of dimensional pocket manipulation or spatial distortion—"

Piggot cleared her throat sharply, bringing him back on topic. "Armsmaster, please. We need to stay focused here."

He straightened up stiffly, looking mildly embarrassed at being caught rambling. "Apologies, Director."

Piggot turned her stern gaze back towards me, her expression carefully neutral. "Now that we're properly introduced—I'm Director Emily Piggot of Brockton Bay's PRT branch. It's good to meet you officially, Mr. Thorn."

"Nice to meet you too, Director," I replied politely, trying to keep the mood civil.

She nodded slightly. "Your trigger event wasn't exactly public, but the hospital where it happened does have security cameras—probably not as secure as we'd prefer. You should consider being careful moving forward. The Protectorate and New Wave may not be the only ones aware of your identity."

I shrugged slightly, resigned to that possibility already. "Yeah, I kind of figured that would be the case."

Piggot studied me silently for another long moment, clearly assessing me before she continued. "And am I correct in assuming your intentions are to operate as a hero?"

"Yes," I replied immediately, without hesitation. "That's the plan."

At that, Miss Militia spoke up gently from her spot near the wall. "Shadow Stalker mentioned Silas did a very efficient job taking down Rune. He also showed interest in joining the Wards program."

Director Piggot actually looked pleased to hear that news. She gave me a small, approving nod. "That's good to hear."

Armsmaster took the brief lull in conversation as his chance to speak again, clearly intrigued. "We do have some questions regarding your powers, Mr. Thorn. Specifically, everyone would like to know exactly where you disappeared to with Panacea for several days. We've just received confirmation that she's safely returned home, but we've been unable to get a clear explanation yet."

I sighed again, scratching the back of my head. "Honestly, it's kind of a long story."

The three of them stared at me expectantly, clearly waiting for details. I still didn't know exactly how or why I'd gotten the system—whether it was a power granted by a trigger event or something else entirely. 

For now, I figured it was best to keep those details vague.

Instead, I leaned forward in my chair and began explaining in the simplest way I could think of. "Amy—Panacea—and I were in my hospital room after I'd been injured. Some gang members burst in trying to kill us. I guess that's when I 'triggered.'"

I paused, gauging their reactions. Piggot nodded slowly, gesturing for me to continue.

"My new power apparently decided to give me a kind of… 'tutorial mission' right after triggering. It teleported me and Panacea away—to another world entirely."

Miss Militia's eyes widened slightly, and Piggot's lips pressed together skeptically, but neither interrupted me yet. Armsmaster stood silently, unreadable behind his helmet.

"Anyway," I continued, forcing myself to sound as calm and rational as possible, "We found ourselves in this medieval fantasy world, but not a different Earth. And we were given a clear task. Survive and then slay a dragon..." There was no point hiding any of this since Amy had read it all too.

Director Piggot and Miss Militia stared at me in open disbelief. Piggot's mouth was actually hanging slightly open. "What…?"

"Huh…" Armsmaster said and cocked his head. "My lie detector tells me he's telling the truth…"

…

After that, Miss Militia led me to a spare room located in the Wards' section of the Rig. Every Ward and Protectorate member had the option of living here if they chose to. It was convenient, secure.

Considering nobody knew for sure if villains had already figured out my civilian identity, Piggot had decided it was safer for me to stay here for now, rather than risk heading back to my apartment. I didn't argue with her. It wasn't like I had any real attachments waiting for me back home anyway.

My family was…

I shook my head sharply. Nope. Fuck that. I wasn't going to waste energy thinking about those assholes tonight.

Instead, I turned my thoughts to how things had gone back in the Director's office. All things considered, it had actually gone better than expected. 

I'd even signed a " provisional" Wards contract. 

It wasn't permanently binding until I had a lawyer review it and signed a full agreement later. I was planning to get Carol Dallon involved for that, but it was already getting late and this wasn't really an emergency situation or anything. I could call in the morning.

Walking into the room I'd been assigned, I spotted a dresser in the corner. I opened it up and was pleased to find an assortment of plain, generic workout clothes provided in just about every size. 

It was a huge relief to finally ditch the scratchy Skyrim-style leather pants I'd been wearing and slip into something modern and actually comfortable. The scratchy clothes didn't have bugs or anything but it had felt like it these past few days!

Seriously, the first thing I planned to do with my future ward's paycheck was stock up my inventory with spare clothes, food, and gear. If another sudden teleportation "quest" hit, I refused to get caught off guard again. That first tutorial mission had seriously blindsided me. 

Of course, I supposed that was probably the whole point of a "tutorial" in the first place.

I had just finished pulling on a pair of soft cotton sweatpants—leaving my chest bare for the moment—when there was a gentle knock on my door. I quickly grabbed a plain white domino mask sitting on top of the dresser and slipped it onto my face before answering.

When I opened the door, Shadow Stalker—or rather, Sophia Hess—stood there. No longer in costume. She was dressed casually, wearing tight black sweatpants and a matching black tank top that clung to her athletic figure. The tank top showed off toned, slender arms, and even clearly defined abdominal muscles. She had the same simple white domino mask covering her face, identical to mine.

For a moment, neither of us said anything. Sophia's eyes slid slowly down, openly checking out my bare chest and stomach. Her gaze lingered for a few seconds longer than strictly necessary.

I felt a faint heat rising to my cheeks under her gaze, but forced a confident smile. "Like what you see?" I asked, doing my best to sound teasing rather than awkward.

Sophia's lips curled upward into a faint smirk. "Hmph," she scoffed lightly, clearly amused by my question. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Thought you might be bored after getting grilled by the old people in suits. Figured I'd see if you wanted to hit the gym with me. Blow off some steam."

I nodded quickly. "Yeah, sure. Just let me put on a shirt first."

She leaned casually against the doorframe, openly eyeing me up again, looking completely unconcerned about being caught staring. "Honestly, I'd say you could leave it off," Sophia drawled casually. Then her voice lowered, becoming conspiratorial as she leaned a little closer. "But Vista's still around. And trust me, you do not want that brat crushing on you. She was bad enough when she had a thing for Gallant. I'm still convinced she used her space-warping powers to peek at him in the shower." Sophia paused briefly, then added with a mischievous smirk, "Little pervert."

An angry, squeaky voice suddenly echoed from down the hallway behind Sophia. "I am NOT a pervert!" The air shimmered briefly. I blinked in surprise as space visibly twisted around itself, and a young blonde girl in a green costume abruptly appeared right beside Sophia, her cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment and irritation. She jabbed an accusing finger directly at Sophia's face, scowling fiercely. "Stop trying to turn the new guy against me!"

Sophia just raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Relax, Vista," she drawled, completely unfazed by the girl's sudden appearance. "I was only telling the truth."

Vista huffed again, crossing her arms in indignation before she turned her eyes toward me. Her angry expression froze the instant she noticed I wasn't wearing a shirt. Her eyes widened, her mouth snapping shut mid-protest. Vista's face rapidly turned an even deeper shade of pink, and she quickly looked away, embarrassed.

I chuckled quietly at her reaction and took pity on her, reaching over to quickly slip my T-shirt on. Then I extended my hand with an easy smile. "Hey there. I'm Silas Thorn."

She hesitated for a moment, then shyly shook my hand. "Oh. Um, hi. I'm Vista." After a beat of hesitation, she added in a smaller voice, "Are you really supposed to tell me your real name already?"

I shrugged casually. "Honestly, pretty much everyone here already knows who I am. I haven't picked a hero name yet, either."

"Oh," Vista said softly, nodding thoughtfully. Then she remembered her original mission and turned to glare playfully at Sophia again. "Well, either way—don't trust anything Shadow Stalker tells you. She's a meanie and a bully!"

Sophia rolled her eyes, clearly unconcerned by the accusation. But the word "bully" caught my attention, and my smile faded slightly. I turned toward Sophia with a mild smirk, folding my arms across my chest.

"Is that right?" I said slowly, making sure my voice held a clear note of warning. "You know, I really don't like bullies. Maybe you should apologize?"

I'd intended the comment to be teasing, playful. But the instant the words left my mouth, I saw Sophia visibly flinch. Her expression shifted rapidly, a series of conflicting emotions flickering openly across her face—surprise, defensiveness, discomfort, even genuine hurt. 

Clearly, I'd hit a nerve without meaning to. Or did I…?

An awkward silence stretched for a second, and I almost started to backtrack. But before I could, Sophia sighed heavily and turned grudgingly toward Vista.

"Fine," she muttered, clearly uncomfortable but forcing herself through the words. "...I'm sorry, okay? Now beat it, squirt. Silas and I are going to hit the gym."

Vista puffed her cheeks out again in annoyance, looking ready to argue more, but I couldn't help but chuckle quietly at her expression. Despite her young age and cute appearance, I reminded myself firmly, Vista wasn't just the team's adorable mascot—she was genuinely powerful. Underestimating her because of her looks or age would definitely be a mistake.

Vista finally released an exaggerated sigh, clearly deciding it wasn't worth pursuing further right now. "Whatever. I was heading home anyway. I mostly just wanted to meet the new Ward."

Her irritation melted slightly as she smiled shyly at me. I returned the smile warmly. "It was nice meeting you too, Vista. Maybe we can properly talk a bit more tomorrow?"

She nodded eagerly, looking pleased at the suggestion. "Yeah, definitely!"

The air rippled and distorted again, and a moment later Vista was simply gone, vanished through folded space. I stared at the empty spot for a second, still impressed by just how casual she was about using such a powerful ability.

Sophia had regained her composure quickly, and now she turned towards me with her usual cocky smirk firmly back in place. "You're definitely gonna regret being so nice to her," she teased lightly. Then, lowering her voice again conspiratorially, she added, "Seriously, rookie, I wasn't joking about the whole shower-peeping thing."

I swallowed nervously, deciding right then that I was definitely bringing this up with Miss Militia later, just in case. "Thanks for the heads-up," I muttered dryly.

Sophia just laughed softly under her breath and began leading the way toward the gym, walking ahead of me down the hall. I followed behind, my eyes unintentionally dropping downward to appreciate how those tight sweatpants hugged her firm, toned ass. Sophia clearly noticed, because after a few steps she deliberately began swaying her hips, teasing me openly and daring me to comment.

I couldn't help but grin to myself as I followed along. Sophia Hess might actually be a bit of a bully, like Vista said—but fuck if she didn't have some amazing cheeks.

– Amy –

Amy sat quietly at the dinner table with her family, feeling a bit uncomfortable under her mother and sister's curious stares. She had just finished explaining—carefully leaving out certain private details—exactly where she'd vanished to over the last few days.

Across from her, Vicky leaned forward, eyes wide with pure envy. "Seriously? You got to see magic spells, actual fucking dragons, and real elves? Amy, that's literally the coolest thing I've ever heard! Why couldn't I have gone to Skyrim instead?" her sister whined dramatically. 

Amy sighed, giving her sister a mild pout. "It wasn't exactly all fun and games, Vicky. The place was crazy. Everyone there was caught up in some horrible civil war, there were giant animals everywhere trying to eat us, and that dragon was definitely not friendly. People died fighting it!"

Vicky huffed, clearly unimpressed by Amy's downplaying. She still looked jealous, but at least she'd stopped openly squealing.

Then Carol spoke up unexpectedly, catching Amy completely off guard. "I'm honestly very glad you're safe, Amy," her mother said calmly, voice surprisingly gentle. "It sounds like you handled yourself very maturely while you were gone. Good job."

Amy blinked in genuine surprise. Praise from Carol wasn't exactly common. Her chest warmed slightly, but she quickly glanced away, hiding the faint blush rising to her cheeks. Amy silently thanked every deity she could think of that she'd kept her mouth shut about certain other events— especially the almost-threesome with Silas and Hildra. Her mother would never have described that as mature behavior. In fact, Amy planned on keeping that particular memory to herself forever.

Unfortunately, Vicky probably suspected something had happened, seeing as how Amy had appeared stark naked back in her room. That wasn't something easily explained away. Amy quietly resolved she'd have to bribe her sister with ice cream or shopping later, just to make sure Vicky kept quiet about those specific embarrassing details.

Amy turned her head slightly to look at her father. She hoped he might say something comforting or supportive as well, but Mark just sat there silently, gaze distant and unfocused. It looked like he hadn't even registered half the conversation. His depression remained unchanged, something that Amy had long grown accustomed to.

Sighing softly, she reached down distractedly to pick up her knife again. Amy hissed suddenly in sharp pain. Lost in her thoughts, she'd managed to slice a shallow cut into her finger.

Vicky immediately perked up, eyes darting toward her. "Hey, you okay?"

Amy winced slightly, shaking her head to dismiss her sister's concern. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's nothing. I'll just go grab a Band-Aid."

She started to stand, but before she could even rise from her seat, something completely unexpected happened. Her hand glowed suddenly with a soft golden light, clearly visible to everyone at the table.

Amy stared down in shock. Right in front of her eyes, the small bleeding wound on her finger began knitting itself neatly closed, the pain fading away in seconds. Within moments, her skin was whole and unblemished once again.

Amy blinked, utterly stunned, holding her healed finger up to stare at it in disbelief. She had just healed herself—something she'd never been capable of doing before. Her bio-manipulation powers had always worked exclusively on other people, never herself. 

Yet now she'd just casually fixed her own injury using genuine Skyrim magic!

"What the actual fuck…?" Amy whispered.

Next to her, Vicky jumped up from her seat in excitement. "Oh my gosh, Amy! That was so cool!"

– Rebecca Costa-Brown (Alexandria) –

Rebecca sat at her desk, studying the report Director Piggot had just sent her from Brockton Bay. Piggot had actually managed to handle things smoothly for once, successfully recruiting Silas Thorn to the Wards without causing any major disasters. Rebecca was genuinely surprised.

To be fair, though, it wasn't entirely Piggot's fault that Brockton Bay had devolved into such a mess. Rebecca herself had intentionally allowed the city to decline. Cauldron needed certain conditions in place—chaos, instability, and a concentration of parahuman conflict—to test some theories on trigger events and parahuman population growth. Unfortunately, that meant she'd been willing to let Brockton Bay become a volatile shithole to serve as their laboratory.

However, the appearance of Silas Thorn changed everything.

The moment Rebecca learned about his value from Contessa, she immediately issued a series of urgent orders to Piggot. First and foremost, she commanded that the Brockton Bay PRT office clean house and remove every single gang mole embedded within their ranks. She wasn't about to let Coil or any other ambitious idiot get their hooks into someone as potentially important as Silas.

She'd also instructed Armsmaster to step down as team leader, replacing him with Miss Militia—a calmer, steadier leader who could handle delicate situations better. Armsmaster had objected initially, as expected. But once Rebecca explained he would now be free to tinker–with a higher budget–and fight unhindered, he quickly saw the benefits. It was exactly the kind of straightforward approach Armsmaster appreciated.

Regarding Coil specifically, Rebecca had authorized a clear and uncompromising message delivered directly to him. Either he voluntarily left town, or Cauldron would remove him permanently. Coil's survival depended entirely on his own common sense. Whether or not he chose to follow their orders would be up to Contessa's Path to Victory to determine. Rebecca honestly didn't care either way—she'd dealt with far worse than Coil over the years.

Rebecca's thoughts returned firmly to Silas Thorn, and she leaned back thoughtfully in her chair, carefully considering the implications of his existence.

If the reports she'd gotten from Piggot were correct, Silas Thorn's trigger event had transported him—and Panacea—to another world that wasn't simply an alternate Earth. That single revelation had staggering implications.

Ever since Scion and the Entities had arrived, they'd fundamentally altered the multiverse, restricting dimensional travel exclusively to different parallel Earths—each Earth firmly under their direct influence. Travel to completely separate worlds—worlds not bound to the Entities' influence—had always been impossible after their arrival. Cauldron and other leading researchers had theorized for years that infinite other worlds existed beyond the Earth multiverse cluster, but every attempt at reaching them had consistently failed.

The Entities' dimensional lockdown was an enormous barrier. Everyone within Cauldron, especially Rebecca, had instinctively understood that it meant bad news for humanity. Being trapped within worlds controlled or influenced by Scion and his counterpart inevitably placed humanity at their mercy.

But if Silas Thorn could genuinely break that limitation—if his new, unprecedented power allowed him to access entirely separate worlds—that changed absolutely everything. It opened countless opportunities, from access to resources and allies beyond the Entities' control to entirely new ways of combating the Endbringers and Scion himself. Hell, it might even give humanity a genuine chance at survival.

Rebecca's schedule for the coming week was always brutally busy. As both Chief Director of the PRT and secretly Alexandria, her days were tightly packed with meetings, crises, and constant juggling of duties. But there was no chance she was leaving a cape this potentially critical to Piggot's oversight alone. She trusted Miss Militia's judgment far more, but even then…

Rebecca nodded firmly to herself, decision made. She was absolutely making time for a personal visit to Brockton Bay at the earliest possible opportunity. Meeting Silas Thorn face-to-face and evaluating him personally had just become one of her top priorities.

She picked up the phone on her desk and dialed the number of her personal assistant.

"Clear my schedule as soon as possible," she instructed calmly. "I need you to arrange a trip to Brockton Bay. I'll handle this one personally."