Taylor's phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number. She took a deep breath, steeling herself as she read the message requesting a call from Miss Stepford. Kaiser had warned her he'd given her contact info to the Merchants. Time to put on the persona.

  She texted back that she was available, preferring they initiate the call. Moments later, her phone rang.

  "Miss Stepford speaking," she answered smoothly, her voice taking on the crisp, polite tones of her alter ego.

  "Ah, excellent. This is Mush of the Merchants. I hope I'm not interrupting anything important?"

  "Not at all. How may I assist you today?" Taylor kept her tone pleasant but professional.

  "First, let me thank you. I've been using some of your products and I must say, I'm impressed. Feel like a whole new man." Mush chuckled. "Though I will say, they don't seem quite as potent as before. Got these through, shall we say, unofficial channels. I'd much prefer to get them fresh from the source."

  "I see," Taylor replied carefully. "And what exactly did you have in mind?"

  "Oh, a little of this, a little of that. Your study guides have worked wonders for our organization. Really helped clean things up, if you catch my drift."

  Taylor's mind raced. The Merchants were using her tech? How had they gotten ahold of it? She'd have to look into that. For now, she needed more information.

  "I'm glad to hear they've been beneficial," she said. "Though I'm curious why I should consider selling to you directly."

  Mush's tone turned sly. "Come now, Miss Stepford. Surely you don't want to be entirely dependent on the Empire for your wellbeing and revenue? Having alternatives gives you options, leverage. It's just good business sense."

  Taylor frowned. He had a point, loath as she was to admit it. Still, she pressed on. "I don't approve of the drug trade. That's not something I'm interested in supporting."

  Mush laughed, a harsh sound. "And you think the Empire abstains from such activities? My dear, there will always be those who desire chemical comforts. We simply service that demand. But I assure you, under the influence of your materials, our organization has vastly improved. More efficient, less... messy."

  He paused, letting that sink in before continuing, "If we don't get supplies from you, well... I'd hate to see the gang regress to its old ways. Think of all the good you could do, all the lives you could improve."

  Taylor's stomach churned. It was manipulative, but she couldn't deny the logic. If she could exert some control over the Merchants, maybe she could mitigate some of the harm they caused.

  "I... see your point," she said slowly. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

  Mush rattled off a list of items – mostly variations on her study guides and some basic cognitive enhancement formulas. The prices he quoted weren't as high as what the Empire offered, but they were substantial.

  "I'm eager to see how effective they are," Mush said, a note of anticipation in his voice. "And just how much control you think you'll gain."

  Taylor frowned at that. She'd fully intended to load the materials with as much influence as possible. The fact that Mush seemed aware of that potential was concerning.

  "I'll need some time to consider your offer," she said carefully. "And to prepare any materials, should I decide to move forward."

  "Of course, of course," Mush replied smoothly. "Take all the time you need. We'll be in touch."

  The call ended, leaving Taylor with a knot of anxiety in her stomach. She paced her lab, mind whirling. On one hand, this could be an opportunity to exert some positive influence over the Merchants. On the other, she'd be actively supporting a criminal organization.

  She needed to test the addiction-breaking potential of her tech. If she could use it to help addicts recover, that might justify working with the Merchants. Decision made, Taylor picked up her Empire-issued phone to make a call of her own.

  "Victor? It's Miss Stepford. I need a favor. Do you have any volunteers who are struggling with addiction? I'd like to see if my tech can help break their dependence."

  Victor's voice came through, curious but cautious. "I might be able to arrange something. What exactly did you have in mind?"

  Taylor explained her idea, careful not to mention the Merchants directly. Victor listened, then agreed to set up a small test group.

  "I'll have Othala oversee things," he said. "She has some medical training, which could be useful. I'll send you the details once it's arranged."

  "Thank you," Taylor said, relieved. "I appreciate your help with this."

  As she hung up, Taylor felt a mix of anticipation and dread. If this worked, it could open up new avenues for her tech. But it also meant deeper involvement with the criminal underworld of Brockton Bay. She tried to reassure herself that it was for the greater good, but a small voice in the back of her mind wondered if she was just rationalizing.

  She shook off the doubts and got to work, determined to make the most of this opportunity. If she could help addicts recover and exert some control over the Merchants in the process, maybe it would be worth the moral compromise.

  Sophia trudged through the halls of Winslow, her backpack slung over one shoulder. The final bell had rung, and students streamed past her, eager to escape the confines of the school. She paused at her locker, mechanically going through the motions of gathering her things.

  As she shoved a textbook into her bag, Sophia's gaze drifted to where Emma and Taylor usually met her after class. The space was conspicuously empty. She frowned, a twinge of disappointment settling in her chest. They'd been distant lately, wrapped up in their own world of whispered conversations and meaningful glances.

  Sophia slammed her locker shut with more force than necessary, earning a few startled looks from nearby students. She ignored them, shouldering her way through the crowd.

  At least they still sat with her at lunch. Sophia's stomach growled at the thought, and she grimaced. Taylor had been pushing more and more food on her lately. It was getting ridiculous – even for an active girl like herself, it was too much.

  She tugged at her shirt, which felt a bit tighter than it had at the start of the school year. Sophia scowled. She needed to do something about this extra weight before it became a real problem.

  As she stepped out into the crisp afternoon air, Sophia's mind drifted to Mrs. Barnes. The woman was recovering, but slowly. And Sophia still had no leads on who had hurt her. The thought nagged at her, an itch she couldn't quite scratch. She should have been able to figure it out by now.

  Sophia's feet carried her aimlessly through the streets of Brockton Bay. She needed to burn off some of this restless energy. Maybe it was time to pick up her patrols again. She hadn't been going out as Shadow Stalker as much lately, but there were always plenty of gangbangers to ambush if you knew where to look.

  A smirk tugged at her lips. The dealers among them were often loaded with cash. She wasn't hurting for money these days.

  A familiar twinge of guilt pricked at her conscience. She should share some of those spoils with her family. They could use the extra cash. Sophia brushed the thought aside with practiced ease.

  Her wanderings brought her to a rundown strip mall. A faded sign caught her eye: "Brockton Bay Boxing Club." Perfect. She needed a real gym, somewhere she could work out this frustration and get back into fighting shape.

  The bell above the door jangled as Sophia stepped inside. The interior was worn but clean, heavy bags hanging from the ceiling and a boxing ring dominating the center of the space. The smell of sweat and leather filled her nostrils.

  A burly man behind the counter looked up from a well-worn magazine. His gaze swept over Sophia, lingering on her midsection. His lip curled slightly.

  "Weight Watchers is down the street, sweetheart," he said, jerking a thumb towards the door.

  Sophia's eyes narrowed. "I'm here to box," she snapped. "You got a problem with that?"

  The man shrugged, seemingly unimpressed by her bravado. "Your funeral, kid. Fifty bucks a month, cash only."

  Sophia slapped the money on the counter, snatching the membership form he slid towards her. She filled it out quickly, her handwriting growing more aggressive with each line.

  "Locker rooms are in the back," the man said, barely glancing at the form as she thrust it back at him. "Try not to break anything."

  Sophia bit back a retort, stalking towards the locker room. She changed quickly into her school gym clothes, glad she'd thought to bring them. As she emerged, she made a beeline for one of the heavy bags.

  She squared up, falling into a fighting stance that felt comfortingly familiar. Sophia let loose with a flurry of punches, each impact sending a satisfying jolt up her arms. She lost herself in the rhythm, sweat beginning to bead on her forehead.

  "You self-trained?"

  The voice startled her, and Sophia spun around, fists still raised. Her gaze traveled up a impressively muscled chest to meet warm brown eyes. The guy was older than her, probably in his late teens. And hot as hell.

  Sophia lowered her hands, trying to play it cool. "So what if I am?"

  The corner of his mouth quirked up. "Nothing wrong with that. But your form could use some work." He stepped closer, nodding towards the bag. "Mind if I show you?"

  Sophia shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. "Knock yourself out."

  He moved to stand beside her, demonstrating a punch in slow motion. "See how I'm rotating my hips? That's where the real power comes from. Try it."

  Sophia mimicked his movement, feeling the difference immediately as her fist connected with the bag. The impact was noticeably stronger.

  "Not bad," he said, sounding genuinely impressed. "You picked that up quick."

  "I'm a fast learner," Sophia replied, a hint of pride creeping into her voice.

  He grinned, holding out a hand. "I'm Brian."

  "Sophia," she said, clasping his hand briefly. As she let go, she found herself shifting her weight, one hip cocked to the side. It wasn't a conscious decision, but something about the pose felt right.

  Brian's eyes widened slightly, and Sophia felt a flutter of satisfaction.

  "You come here often?" she asked, inwardly wincing at how cliche it sounded.

  "Most every Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday," Brian replied. "I could show you a few more tips, if you're interested."

  Sophia nodded, perhaps a bit too eagerly. "Yeah, I'd like that."

  Brian hesitated, his expression growing slightly awkward. "Look, I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but... while a good workout is great, proper eating habits do more for weight loss than anything else."

  Sophia groaned, her earlier irritation flooding back. "I know, I know. It's just... my friend won't stop trying to stuff me like a pig lately."

  Before she could stop herself, Sophia grabbed her breast, giving it a little jiggle. "At least not all the weight is going to my belly, I guess."

  Brian's eyes went wide, and Sophia felt a thrill at his obvious reaction. What the hell had gotten into her? She wasn't usually this forward.

  Brian cleared his throat, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Uh, well... would you maybe want to grab a coffee sometime? We could talk more about nutrition and stuff."

  Sophia grinned, a warm feeling spreading through her chest. "Yeah, I'd like that."

  They exchanged numbers, and Sophia found herself looking forward to their next encounter more than she probably should. As she left the gym, she felt lighter than she had in weeks.

  The sun was setting as Sophia made her way home, casting long shadows across the cracked sidewalks. She replayed her conversation with Brian in her mind, a small smile tugging at her lips.

  Her good mood evaporated as she approached her house. The porch light was on, which meant her mom was probably home. Sophia braced herself for the inevitable interrogation about where she'd been.

  She eased the front door open, hoping to slip upstairs unnoticed. No such luck.

  "Sophia? That you?" Her mother's voice carried from the kitchen.

  Sophia sighed, resigned to her fate. "Yeah, Mom. It's me."

  She trudged into the kitchen, where her mother was stirring something on the stove. The rich aroma of spaghetti sauce filled the air, making Sophia's stomach growl despite herself.

  Her mother turned, giving her a once-over. "Where've you been? I was starting to worry."

  Sophia shrugged, aiming for casual. "Just checking out a new gym. Thought I'd start working out more."

  Her mother's eyebrows rose. "A gym? That's... good, I suppose. Though I'm not sure we can afford a membership right now."

  A twinge of guilt needled at Sophia. She had more than enough money from her "patrols" to cover it, but there was no way to explain that without raising suspicions.

  "It's not too expensive," Sophia lied. "And I can use some of my allowance."

  Her mother seemed to accept this, turning back to the stove. "Well, dinner will be ready soon. Go wash up."

  Sophia retreated to her room, tossing her gym bag in the corner. She flopped onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. The events of the day swirled in her mind – her frustration with Emma and Taylor's distance, the satisfaction of working out, and the unexpected thrill of meeting Brian.

  Her phone buzzed, and Sophia's heart leapt. Had Brian texted already? She fumbled for the device, disappointed to see it was just Emma.

  "Hey Soph, sorry we've been so busy lately. Wanna hang out this weekend?"

  Sophia typed out a quick reply: "Sure, sounds good."

  She hesitated, then added: "Everything okay with you guys?"

  The response came quickly: "Of course! Just been working on some stuff. We'll fill you in soon, promise."

  Sophia frowned at the vague answer. What were they up to that they couldn't tell her about? The familiar feeling of being left out crept over her.

  "Sophia! Dinner!" Her mother's voice interrupted her brooding.

  As she headed downstairs, Sophia resolved to get to the bottom of whatever Emma and Taylor were hiding. And if they wouldn't let her in on their secrets... well, she had her own life to focus on now.

  The next day at school, Sophia found herself more aware of the changes in her body. The extra weight she'd been carrying suddenly felt more pronounced, and she tugged self-consciously at her clothes throughout the morning.

  When lunchtime rolled around, she approached their usual table with a mix of anticipation and dread. Emma and Taylor were already there, heads bent close together in quiet conversation. They looked up as Sophia approached, their expressions brightening in a way that seemed just a touch too forced.

  "Hey Soph!" Emma chirped. "How's it going?"

  Sophia slid into her seat, eyeing the massive spread of food Taylor had laid out. "Fine," she said, unable to keep a note of suspicion from her voice. "You two seem... chipper."

  Taylor smiled, pushing a heaping plate towards Sophia. "Just excited about a project we're working on. Here, I made your favorite – chicken parmesan."

  The smell was tantalizing, and Sophia's traitorous stomach growled. She eyed the portion size warily. "Taylor, this is way too much. I'm trying to watch what I eat."

  A flicker of... something passed over Taylor's face. Concern? Disappointment? It was gone too quickly for Sophia to be sure.

  "Oh, come on," Emma cajoled. "You're a growing girl. You need your strength!"

  Sophia frowned, a retort on the tip of her tongue. But as she opened her mouth, she found herself reaching for the fork instead. Before she knew it, she was digging in with gusto.

  As she ate, Sophia tried to focus on the conversation, searching for any clues about what Emma and Taylor might be up to. But they kept things frustratingly vague, deflecting her questions with ease.

  By the time the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, Sophia felt uncomfortably full. She stood, suppressing a groan as her waistband dug into her stomach.

  "You okay, Soph?" Emma asked, a touch of worry in her voice.

  Sophia forced a smile. "Yeah, just... ate too fast, I guess. I'll see you guys later."

  As she walked away, Sophia couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong. Why did she keep eating so much when she knew she shouldn't? And what were Emma and Taylor hiding?

  The rest of the school day dragged by in a haze of discomfort and suspicion. By the time the final bell rang, Sophia was more than ready to hit the gym and work off some of her frustration.

  She changed quickly in the locker room, grateful that her workout clothes were a bit more forgiving than her school uniform. As she emerged into the main area of the gym, her eyes scanned the room, searching for a familiar face.

  Her heart sank a little when she didn't spot Brian. Of course, he'd mentioned he usually came on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. It was only Thursday.

  Pushing aside her disappointment, Sophia made her way to one of the heavy bags. She fell into a rhythm, focusing on the techniques Brian had shown her. The satisfying thud of her fists against the bag helped clear her mind, pushing away the confusion and doubt that had plagued her all day.

  Time slipped away as she worked out her frustrations on the bag. It wasn't until her arms began to ache that Sophia finally stepped back, breathing heavily.

  "Nice form," a familiar voice called out. "You've been practicing."

  Sophia spun around, a grin spreading across her face before she could stop it. Brian stood a few feet away, a gym bag slung over his shoulder.

  "I thought you didn't come on Thursdays," Sophia said, trying to keep her voice casual.

  Brian shrugged, a small smile playing at his lips. "Usually don't. But I had some free time, thought I'd get an extra session in." He paused, his eyes twinkling. "Glad I did."

  Sophia felt a warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with her workout. "Well, since you're here... want to show me a few more moves?"

  They spent the next hour working on various techniques, Brian patiently correcting Sophia's form and offering encouragement. Despite her earlier fullness from lunch, Sophia found herself energized by his presence.

  As they finished up, Brian glanced at his watch. "I've got to run, but... that offer for coffee still stands, if you're interested."

  Sophia nodded, perhaps a bit too eagerly. "Yeah, definitely. When were you thinking?"

  "How about Saturday afternoon?" Brian suggested. "There's a nice place not far from here."

  "Sounds good," Sophia replied, trying to keep her cool. "Text me the details?"

  Brian grinned. "Will do. See you then, Sophia."

  As he walked away, Sophia couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. For the first time in weeks, she felt like things might actually be looking up.

  Kaiser stood in the center of the room, his eyes fixed on the sleek pod before him. It was an impressive piece of technology, he had to admit. Smooth lines and a polished surface that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. He could feel the anticipation radiating from his gathered capes.

  Victor leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and a look of keen interest on his face. Beside him, Othala fidgeted slightly, her eyes darting between the pod and Taylor. Krieg stood ramrod straight, his expression unreadable behind his mask. Cricket lounged in a corner, her kamas within easy reach.

  And then there was Taylor – no, Miss Stepford, Kaiser reminded himself. The young tinker stood beside her creation, a hint of pride in her stance despite the modesty of her 1950s housewife costume.

  "Impressive," Kaiser said, breaking the silence. "You say this can implant your 'roles' more effectively than your books?"

  Taylor nodded, her blonde wig bobbing slightly. "Yes, Mr. Kaiser. The pod allows for a much deeper and quicker integration of the skills and knowledge. It can also handle multiple roles simultaneously, which is a significant improvement over the books."

  Kaiser gestured to the Empire foot soldier who had been waiting quietly nearby. "Show me."

  Taylor turned to the man. "First, I'd like you to perform some basic weapons maintenance, then spar briefly with Cricket."

  The soldier nodded, moving to a nearby table where a disassembled gun lay. He began working on it, his movements competent but unremarkable. When he finished, Cricket stepped forward, her kamas at the ready.

  The sparring match was short and decisive. While the soldier put up a decent fight, Cricket's superior speed and skill quickly overwhelmed him. Within a few moves, he was on the ground, Cricket's blade at his throat.

  Taylor waited for the soldier to catch his breath before gesturing to the pod. "If you would, please."

  The man climbed in, looking slightly nervous as the pod sealed around him. Taylor moved to a control panel, her fingers dancing across the keys.

  "While we wait," she said, turning back to Kaiser, "I wanted to discuss capacity. With my current resources, I believe I can build and maintain three of these pods, in addition to continuing production of the book printers."

  Kaiser nodded, impressed despite himself. "Excellent. And the duration?"

  "This initial session will take about thirty minutes," Taylor explained. "Subsequent sessions can be shorter, used to reinforce or add additional skills."

  Victor spoke up. "You mentioned my power was helpful in developing this. How so?"

  Taylor smiled. "Studying the way your ability works with skills allowed me to refine the integration process. It's not a perfect replication, of course, but it gave me valuable insights."

  The minutes ticked by as they waited for the pod to finish its work. Finally, a soft chime sounded, and the pod opened with a hiss of released air.

  The soldier stepped out, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the light. Taylor directed him back to the gun, and the difference was immediately apparent. His movements were fluid and precise, stripping and reassembling the weapon with the ease of a seasoned professional.

  "Now, if you would spar with Cricket again," Taylor requested.

  This time, the match was far more even. While Cricket still held the edge in experience, the soldier's movements were sharper, his reactions faster. He even managed to land a few solid hits before Cricket finally took him down.

  "Impressive," Kaiser said again, genuine admiration in his voice. "And you say his marksmanship will be improved as well?"

  Taylor nodded. "Significantly. But there's more." She held up a sign covered in Japanese characters. "Please read this," she instructed the soldier.

  Without hesitation, the man began reading aloud in flawless Japanese. Othala's eyes widened behind her mask.

  "Why bother with that language?" she asked, a hint of disdain in her voice.

  Taylor turned to her. "It's the primary language used by the ABB. They often speak it amongst themselves, assuming we won't understand. This gives us a tactical advantage."

  She paused, then continued. "I've also implanted Navajo as a language for Empire members to use. It will be difficult for outsiders to identify or translate."

  Krieg frowned at this, while Kaiser hid a smirk. He knew the history there – Navajo code talkers had been instrumental in the Allied victory during World War II. It was a clever choice, if somewhat ironic given the Empire's ideology.

  "Your work is excellent, Miss Stepford," Kaiser said, his voice warm with approval. He turned to Krieg. "Have your men undergo the pod training over the Christmas holiday. I want as many as possible to benefit from this."

  Krieg nodded, a cruel smile visible beneath his mask. "I relish the thought of what my men will be able to do to the ABB with these new skills."

  Kaiser continued, addressing the room at large. "If any other Empire soldiers wish to undergo this training, they may request it from Miss Stepford. However," he added, looking directly at Taylor, "the decision to grant such requests will be at her discretion."

  Taylor nodded, understanding the implied trust – and test – in that statement.

  "I must say, I'm impressed you were able to accomplish all this in just three weeks," Kaiser said. "In light of your success, I'll be increasing your budget for future projects."

  Taylor's eyes lit up at this, though she quickly schooled her expression back to polite gratitude. "Thank you, Mr. Kaiser. I'm glad I could be of service to the Empire."

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  Kaiser paused, his gaze sweeping over his assembled capes. "For now, I'm forbidding the use of the pod on our parahuman members. I'm sure you understand, Miss Stepford."

  Taylor nodded, accepting the limitation without protest. It was clear that while she had earned a measure of trust, Kaiser wasn't ready to risk his powered assets just yet.

  "Well then," Kaiser said, his voice taking on a more jovial tone, "I believe that concludes our demonstration. Miss Stepford, your gift to the Empire will undoubtedly lead to a new and better Brockton Bay." He smiled, the expression visible even through his mask. "Merry Christmas to you all."

  As the others began to file out of the room, Kaiser held Taylor back with a gentle hand on her arm. "A moment, if you please."

  Once they were alone, Kaiser spoke in a low voice. "You've exceeded my expectations, Miss Stepford. The Empire owes you a debt of gratitude."

  Taylor inclined her head. "Thank you, sir. I'm just glad I could help."

  Kaiser studied her for a long moment. "I have to ask – why the Navajo language? It's an... interesting choice, given our organization's history."

  Taylor met his gaze steadily. "It's practical. The language is complex, with no written form until recently. It's also not widely spoken outside certain Native American communities. All of this makes it an ideal choice for secure communication."

  She paused, then added with a hint of challenge in her voice, "And yes, I'm aware of its historical significance. Sometimes, sir, it's wise to learn from one's enemies."

  Kaiser chuckled. "Indeed it is, my dear. Indeed it is." He patted her shoulder. "Keep up the good work. I have a feeling 2011 is going to be a very interesting year for Brockton Bay."

  As Taylor watched Kaiser leave, she allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. Things were progressing even better than she had hoped. With the increased budget and the trust she was slowly earning, her plans were falling into place.

  She turned back to her pod, already mentally sketching out improvements and refinements. There was still so much work to be done, but for now, she would savor this victory.

  Victoria Dallon soared through the crisp evening air, her phone pressed to her ear as she complained to her boyfriend, Dean. The wind whipped through her blonde hair, but her invulnerability kept the chill at bay.

  "I'm telling you, Dean, it's ridiculous! Winslow's basketball team nearly beat Arcadia last week. Winslow! Can you believe it?"

  Dean's laughter crackled through the phone. "Come on, Vicky. It's not that bad. Besides, if you were still allowed to play, I'm sure Arcadia would've crushed them."

  Victoria rolled her eyes, even though Dean couldn't see it. "That's not the point. Something weird is going on at Winslow. I mean, I'm glad the school is doing better – it used to be a total cesspit. But this change came out of nowhere."

  She paused, hovering in midair as she collected her thoughts. "I've been hearing about these study guides they're using. People are raving about them. I was thinking of getting some for myself, actually."

  "No!" Dean's voice was sharp, urgent. "Vicky, stay away from those. Trust me."

  Victoria frowned, taken aback by his vehemence. "Whoa, what's got you so worked up? What do you know about them?"

  There was a moment of silence before Dean sighed. "They're tinkertech, Vicky. That's why they're so effective."

  "What?" Victoria nearly dropped her phone in shock. "How the hell is that allowed? Why isn't the Protectorate doing anything about it?"

  "It's... complicated," Dean said, his voice heavy. "Winslow got permission to use them through some legal loopholes. The school superintendent is using the improved test scores to launch his mayoral campaign."

  Victoria scoffed. "So what, it's not that bad then? Just some fancy study aids?"

  "We're not sure," Dean admitted. "There are suspicions that the guides might have some kind of Master effect, but nothing's been proven yet."

  Victoria's eyes widened. "Master effects? In a school? That's insane!"

  "Tell me about it," Dean grumbled. "Director Piggot's been furious about the whole situation. She and Armsmaster have been butting heads over how to handle it."

  "Armsmaster? What's his take on all this?"

  Dean hesitated before answering. "I think... I think he might be asking Dragon for help understanding the tech behind the study guides. But I'm not supposed to know that, so keep it to yourself, okay?"

  "Dragon?" Victoria couldn't hide the excitement in her voice. "Man, she's amazing. If anyone can figure this out, it's her."

  "Yeah, well, let's hope so," Dean said. "Look, I've got to go. Just promise me you'll stay away from those study guides, alright?"

  Victoria sighed. "Fine, I promise. I'm at Crystal's dorm now anyway. Talk to you later, babe."

  "Bye, Vicky. Stay safe."

  Victoria hung up and landed softly on the walkway leading to her cousin's dorm building. She took a moment to smooth her windblown hair before heading inside.

  Crystal answered the door with a wide smile. "Vicky! Come on in!" The cousins embraced warmly.

  "Thanks for having me over," Victoria said as she stepped into the small dorm room. "I needed a break from all the family drama at home."

  Crystal laughed. "Happy to provide a refuge. How's Aunt Carol doing?"

  Victoria rolled her eyes. "Same as always. Work, work, work. I swear, sometimes I think she forgets she has a family."

  As they chatted, Victoria's eyes roamed around the room. She blinked in surprise. "Wow, Crys. Your room is... actually clean. What happened to my slob of a cousin?"

  Crystal playfully swatted Victoria's arm. "Hey! I can be tidy when I want to be."

  "Uh-huh," Victoria said skeptically. "And what brought on this sudden desire for cleanliness?"

  Crystal shrugged, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "My friends may have... strongly encouraged me to get my act together. One of them even gave me that." She pointed to a motivational poster on the wall.

  Victoria walked over to examine it. The poster showed a serene landscape with a quote about organization and productivity. "Aw, that's adorable! Where'd you get it? I should get one for myself. Maybe even one for Amy – Lord knows she could use some motivation."

  "I'm not sure, actually," Crystal admitted. "My friend Anne gave it to me. I can ask her where she got it if you want."

  Victoria nodded, then paused. A nagging thought tugged at the back of her mind. "Hey, this Anne... she didn't go to Winslow, did she?"

  Crystal raised an eyebrow. "No, she went to Immaculata. Why?"

  "Oh, no reason," Victoria said quickly. "Just being paranoid, I guess. This whole Winslow situation has me on edge."

  "What Winslow situation?" Crystal asked, flopping down on her bed.

  Victoria sighed and joined her cousin. "Apparently, there's some kind of tinkertech study guides being used there. Dean says the PRT is worried they might have Master effects."

  Crystal's eyes widened. "Seriously? That's messed up. But wait, Anne's in her second year at BBU. Even if she did go to Winslow, she wouldn't have been there for... whatever this is."

  Victoria laughed, the tension draining from her shoulders. "You're right. God, listen to me. I'm starting to sound like one of those conspiracy nuts."

  "Well, in this city, sometimes the conspiracies turn out to be true," Crystal said with a wry smile. "But maybe we should talk about something else? Like how your love life is going?"

  Victoria groaned and buried her face in a pillow. "Ugh, don't even get me started. Dean's been so secretive lately. I know it's because of his Ward duties, but still..."

  As the cousins continued to chat and gossip, the concerns about Winslow faded to the back of Victoria's mind. But a small part of her couldn't help wondering what other secrets might be hiding in plain sight throughout Brockton Bay.

  Crystal's phone buzzed, interrupting their conversation. She glanced at it and grinned. "Oh, it's Anne! Perfect timing. I'll ask her about the poster."

  Victoria watched as her cousin tapped out a quick message. "So, tell me more about this Anne. Is she in any of your classes?"

  Crystal shook her head. "Nah, she's a year ahead of me. We met through a mutual friend at a party last semester. She's pretty cool – kind of reminds me of you, actually."

  "Oh?" Victoria raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

  "Well, she's got that whole 'effortlessly put-together' vibe going on," Crystal explained. "Always seems to know what to say, you know? And she's got a killer sense of style."

  Victoria preened a bit at the comparison. "Sounds like my kind of girl. Maybe we should all hang out sometime."

  Crystal's phone buzzed again. She read the message and frowned slightly. "Huh, that's weird."

  "What is it?" Victoria asked, leaning over to try and peek at the screen.

  Crystal tilted the phone so Victoria could see. "Anne says she doesn't remember where she got the poster. Says it was just something she picked up somewhere and thought I'd like it."

  Victoria felt a small chill run down her spine. "That's... convenient."

  "What do you mean?" Crystal asked, looking confused.

  Victoria shook her head, trying to dismiss the feeling. "Nothing, probably. It's just... with everything going on at Winslow, I can't help but be a little suspicious of anything that seems too good to be true."

  Crystal rolled her eyes. "Come on, Vicky. It's just a poster. You're being paranoid again."

  "Yeah, you're probably right," Victoria said, forcing a laugh. "I guess all this hero work is making me see conspiracies everywhere."

  Crystal grinned and tossed a pillow at her cousin. "Well, how about we forget about all that serious stuff for a while? I've got a new rom-com I've been dying to watch. You in?"

  Victoria caught the pillow and smiled back. "You know me. I'm always up for a good cheesy movie."

  As Crystal set up the movie, Victoria found her eyes drawn back to the motivational poster. It really did look harmless – just a pretty picture with an inspiring quote. But she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than met the eye.

  She thought about texting Dean to ask if the PRT knew anything about these posters, but decided against it. He was probably busy with patrol, and besides, she'd promised to stay out of the Winslow situation.

  The movie started, and Victoria tried to focus on the romantic hijinks unfolding on screen. But part of her mind kept circling back to the mysteries surrounding Winslow. The study guides, the sudden improvement in academics and sports, and now these innocuous-seeming posters...

  "Hey, earth to Vicky!" Crystal's voice broke through her thoughts. "You're missing the best part!"

  Victoria blinked and refocused on the screen. "Sorry, just got lost in thought for a second there."

  Crystal paused the movie and turned to face her cousin. "Okay, spill. What's really bothering you? And don't say 'nothing' because I know that face. That's your 'I'm worried about something but I don't want to admit it' face."

  Victoria sighed. "It's just... all this stuff with Winslow. I can't help feeling like we're missing something important. Like there's a bigger picture we're not seeing."

  Crystal nodded thoughtfully. "I get it. It is a pretty weird situation. But isn't it possible that it's just... good? Maybe someone just wants to help?"

  "Maybe," Victoria conceded. "But if that's the case, why all the secrecy? Why use tinkertech study guides instead of just implementing better teaching methods?"

  Crystal shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe they tried everything else and this was a last resort. Or maybe someone's using the school as a testing ground for new educational tech."

  "That's... actually not a bad theory," Victoria said, impressed. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

  "See? This is why you need to hang out with me more," Crystal said with a grin. "I'm full of brilliant insights."

  Victoria laughed and threw the pillow back at her cousin. "Alright, alright. You've convinced me to stop worrying for now. Let's get back to the movie."

  As they settled in to finish watching, Victoria made a mental note to do some discreet research on educational technology companies in the area. It probably wouldn't lead anywhere, but at least it would give her something to focus on besides vague suspicions.

  The rest of the evening passed pleasantly, filled with laughter and gossip. By the time Victoria prepared to leave, the concerns about Winslow had faded to the back of her mind.

  "Thanks for having me over," she said, hugging Crystal goodbye. "This was exactly what I needed."

  Crystal squeezed her tight. "Anytime, cuz. And hey, try not to stress too much about all that Winslow stuff, okay? I'm sure if there was really something sinister going on, the PRT would handle it."

  Victoria nodded, not entirely convinced but appreciating the sentiment. "Yeah, you're right. I'll try to let it go."

  As she flew home through the cool night air, Victoria found her thoughts drifting back to the conversation with Dean. She wondered what Armsmaster and Dragon might discover about the tinkertech study guides. Part of her itched to get involved, to investigate on her own. But she had promised Dean she'd stay out of it.

  For now, at least, she would have to content herself with keeping her eyes and ears open. After all, in a city like Brockton Bay, you never knew when a seemingly small detail might turn out to be the key to something much bigger. She hoped Crystal would get more of those posters for her and Amy. They really were cute.

  Taylor sat at the kitchen table with her father, a mug of steaming tea warming her hands. The winter chill still clung to the air outside, but inside, the atmosphere was cozy and comfortable. Danny looked over some paperwork spread out before him, occasionally jotting down notes.

  "So, Dad," Taylor began, "I wanted to talk to you about next semester."

  Danny looked up, giving her his full attention. "What's on your mind, kiddo?"

  Taylor took a deep breath. "I've been offered an internship at Medhall. It would take the place of my afternoon classes."

  Danny's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Medhall? That's impressive, Taylor. They must really see something in you."

  Taylor nodded, trying to keep her expression neutral. She couldn't tell her father the real reason behind the internship – that it was a cover for her work with the Empire as Miss Stepford. "Yeah, I guess they were pretty impressed with my work at Winslow. It's a great opportunity."

  "I'll say," Danny agreed, a proud smile spreading across his face. "That's going to look fantastic on college applications. And Medhall is one of the biggest employers in the Bay. This could really open doors for you."

  Taylor felt a twinge of guilt at her father's enthusiasm, but pushed it aside. "Thanks, Dad. I'm really excited about it."

  Eager to change the subject, Taylor asked, "How's the ferry project coming along?"

  Danny's expression shifted to one of mild frustration. "Slower than I'd like, honestly. There's so much red tape to cut through. But," he added, his tone brightening, "the mayor's been helping push things along. He wants a big win for his re-election campaign next year."

  Taylor nodded, sipping her tea. "That's good, right? Having the mayor on your side?"

  "Oh, absolutely," Danny agreed. "It's just..." He trailed off, his gaze drifting to the window. After a moment, he chuckled and shook his head. "You know, sometimes I find myself wishing we had those giantess twins from the Empire to help clear the bay. They could probably get it done in a week."

  Taylor nearly choked on her tea. "What? Dad, you can't be serious!"

  Danny held up his hands defensively. "I'm not saying I approve of the Empire or anything like that. It's just... well, you have to admit, cape abilities could be incredibly useful for this kind of work."

  Taylor set down her mug, her mind racing. "I guess I never really thought about it that way. How much would it cost to clear the boat graveyard normally?"

  Danny let out a low whistle. "Conservative estimates put it at over a billion dollars. And that's just for the removal. It doesn't even touch on the environmental cleanup that would be needed afterward."

  Taylor's eyes widened. "A billion dollars? That's... that's insane." A thought struck her. "Wait, if capes could do that kind of work, why are so few of them rogues? I mean, legal work like that has to be worth way more than petty crime, right? Even what the Empire and Merchants pull in combined has to be chump change compared to that."

  Danny nodded, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? But there's a catch. Congress passed a bill years ago forbidding capes from doing work that would compete with normal people. It was supposed to protect jobs."

  "That seems... short-sighted," Taylor said carefully.

  "Foolish is what it is," Danny replied, his tone growing heated. "It's one of the single most damaging things done to this country, in my opinion. Sometimes I wonder if there's some secret cabal out there that just wants capes fighting each other all the time for some insane reason."

  Taylor felt a chill run down her spine at her father's words. She thought of her own activities as Miss Stepford, of the Empire and the other gangs constantly vying for territory and power. Could there really be some larger force manipulating things behind the scenes?

  Pushing the unsettling thought aside, Taylor focused on the topic at hand. "So, if that law wasn't in place, how do you think capes could help improve the Bay?"

  Danny's eyes lit up, clearly passionate about the subject. "Oh, the possibilities are endless. Take Lung, for example. His pyrokinesis could be used for all sorts of industrial processes. Melting down and recycling the scrap metal from the boat graveyard, for one."

  Taylor nodded, encouraging him to continue.

  "Or Kaiser," Danny went on. "His metal generation could revolutionize construction. Imagine being able to create support beams or scaffolding on the spot, perfectly sized and shaped for the job."

  "What about some of the other capes?" Taylor asked, genuinely curious now.

  Danny thought for a moment. "Well, Squealer's tinker abilities could be put to use improving our public transportation system. Maybe even finally getting that commuter rail line built that's been talked about for years."

  As they continued to discuss the potential applications of various cape powers, Taylor found herself both fascinated and troubled. On one hand, the ideas her father was proposing could genuinely improve life in Brockton Bay and beyond. On the other, she couldn't help but think about how her own powers were currently being used.

  "What about... mind-affecting powers?" Taylor asked hesitantly. "Like, hypothetically, if there was a cape who could improve people's skills or change their behavior?"

  Danny frowned, considering the question. "That's a tricky one. There could be some real benefits – helping people overcome addiction, or learn new skills more quickly. But the potential for abuse would be enormous. You'd need some serious oversight and ethical guidelines in place."

  Taylor nodded, feeling a mix of relief and guilt. At least her father seemed to recognize the dangers inherent in powers like hers. "Yeah, I can see how that could be problematic."

  "Still," Danny continued, "used responsibly, even powers like that could do a lot of good. Imagine being able to help trauma victims process their experiences more easily, or give people the confidence and skills they need to succeed in their careers."

  Taylor thought about the changes she'd already made at Winslow, the improved grades and behavior of the students. Was what she was doing really so different from what her father was suggesting? Or was she crossing ethical lines that shouldn't be crossed?

  "It's just frustrating," Danny said, pulling Taylor from her thoughts. "There's so much potential for capes to make the world better, but instead, they're mostly just fighting each other or causing problems."

  "Maybe things will change someday," Taylor offered, not entirely sure if she believed it herself.

  Danny smiled at her. "Maybe. And who knows? Maybe your generation will be the ones to figure it out. You're certainly off to a good start with that internship."

  Taylor returned his smile, pushing down the guilt that threatened to surface. "Thanks, Dad. I hope you're right."

  As their conversation shifted to more mundane topics, Taylor's mind continued to race. Her father's words had given her a lot to think about. She'd been so focused on her immediate goals – improving Winslow, working with the Empire – that she hadn't really considered the larger implications of her powers.

  Could she find a way to use her abilities more openly, more legally, to truly improve Brockton Bay? Or was she already too entangled in the city's cape politics to change course now?

  These were questions she'd have to grapple with in the coming months. For now, though, she was content to enjoy this moment with her father, grateful for his support and proud of the work he was doing to improve the city in his own way.

  "It's frustrating, isn't it?" she said softly. "All that potential, just... wasted."

  Danny reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "I know, kiddo. But that's why we keep fighting the legal way. Maybe someday things will change, and we'll be able to use all the resources at our disposal to really make a difference."

  Taylor squeezed back, feeling a renewed sense of determination. She might not be able to use her powers openly to help the city, but that didn't mean she couldn't find other ways to make things better.

  "You're right, Dad," she said. "And who knows? Maybe my internship at Medhall will lead to something that can help the city in ways we haven't even thought of yet."

  Danny beamed at her. "That's the spirit. Now, tell me more about what you'll be doing there. I want to hear all about it."

  As Taylor launched into a carefully edited version of her upcoming "internship," her mind continued to race with ideas. She thought about the Empire, about Lung and the ABB, about Coil and the Undersiders. What if there was a way to redirect all that power and potential towards something positive?

  They sat in companionable silence for a moment, both lost in thought. Finally, Taylor asked, "Do you really think it's possible? To change the way capes operate on such a fundamental level?"

  Danny sighed. "I don't know, Taylor. It would take a massive shift in both policy and public opinion. But I have to believe it's possible. Otherwise, what are we working towards?"

  Taylor felt a surge of affection for her father's optimism. "You're right. And hey, maybe some of the work you're doing with the ferry project will help pave the way for that kind of change."

  "Maybe," Danny agreed. "It's certainly a step in the right direction. If we can show that large-scale civic projects are still possible, even without cape involvement, it might help change some minds."

  As their conversation wound down, Taylor found herself with a new perspective on her own powers and the potential they held. She'd been so focused on the immediate effects of her abilities – improving test scores, altering behaviors – that she hadn't really considered the broader implications.

  Could her power to implant skills and knowledge be used to rapidly train workers for new industries? Could it help people overcome mental health issues or learn to cope with trauma more effectively? The possibilities seemed endless, and for the first time, Taylor felt a glimmer of hope that she might be able to use her abilities for more than just manipulating her classmates or aiding the Empire.

  Of course, the reality of her situation was far more complicated than these hypothetical scenarios. She was already deeply entangled with the Empire, and her actions at Winslow were ethically questionable at best. But her father's words had planted a seed in her mind – a vision of a future where parahumans could use their powers openly to improve society, rather than fighting endless territorial battles or hiding in the shadows.

  As she helped her father clear the table and clean up from their impromptu brainstorming session, Taylor found herself newly energized. She still had a long way to go, and many difficult decisions ahead of her. But now, at least, she had a clearer sense of the potential her powers held – not just for control or manipulation, but for genuine, positive change.

  "Thanks for the talk, Dad," Taylor said as she dried the last dish. "It's given me a lot to think about."

  Danny pulled her into a one-armed hug. "Anytime, kiddo. I'm just glad you're taking an interest in these things. The world needs more young people thinking about how to make things better."

  Taylor leaned into the hug, savoring the moment of connection with her father. She might not be able to tell him everything about her life, but moments like this reminded her of why she was working so hard to improve the Bay. She wanted to create a better future – not just for herself, but for her father and everyone else who called this troubled city home.

  As she headed up to her room for the night, Taylor's mind was already racing with new ideas and possibilities. She had a lot to consider, and many challenges ahead. But for the first time in a long while, she felt a sense of hope and purpose that went beyond her immediate goals. Whatever came next, she was determined to find a way to use her powers for the greater good – even if the path to get there wasn't always clear or easy.

  Brad shifted uncomfortably on the plush sofa in the Anders' living room, feeling out of place among the Christmas decorations and family gathering. He was used to dingy bars and underground fight clubs, not this picture-perfect holiday scene. But Nessa had insisted he come, and he found it hard to refuse her anything these days.

  He watched as Theo unwrapped the wrist and ankle weights he'd gotten him, a small smile tugging at his lips. The kid had surprised him over the past month. When they'd first started training, Brad had dismissed Theo as soft, just another rich boy playing at being tough. But Theo had shown a determination that Brad couldn't help but admire. He pushed himself hard in every session, never complaining even when Brad knew he must be in pain.

  "Thanks, Brad," Theo said, examining the weights. "These'll be great for my workouts."

  Brad nodded gruffly, still unused to the niceties of gift-giving. "Just don't slack off during the holidays. I expect to see you putting those to use when we get back to training."

  Nessa elbowed him gently. "It's Christmas, Brad. Let the boy enjoy his gifts without turning it into another workout."

  He grunted in response, but there was no real annoyance behind it. Nessa had a way of smoothing his rough edges, something he was secretly grateful for.

  The gift exchange continued, with Tammi, Rune, and Karen, Othala, exclaiming over various presents. Alfred, Karen's husband, Victor, sat quietly observing, occasionally offering a polite comment. Brad found himself wondering about Kayden's absence. He knew she'd been invited, but had declined. Things were still tense between her and Max, even a year after their divorce.

  His attention was drawn back to the present-opening as Theo reached for a large, meticulously wrapped box. From the way Max leaned forward slightly, Brad could tell it was from him.

  Theo carefully removed the wrapping paper, revealing the latest video game console. Brad felt a twinge of envy; he'd been trying to get his hands on one of those for weeks, but they were sold out everywhere.

  Nessa caught his expression and smirked. "What's the matter, tough guy? Jealous of a kid's toy?"

  Brad scowled at her, but there was no real heat in it. "I can have hobbies, you know. Ripping and tearing demons apart in Doom is fun." He paused, then added with a grin, "Slightly less satisfying than when I do it to deserving targets in real life, but much less smelly."

  Nessa wrinkled her nose. "Do I want to know?"

  Brad chuckled darkly. "Probably not. Let's just say there are certain... messy aspects to my work that most people don't consider."

  The room fell silent as Theo set aside the game console and turned to his father. "Dad, I have a request."

  Max raised an eyebrow, his interest clearly piqued. Brad noticed the twins, Jessica and Nessa, exchanging glances. It seemed Theo didn't often ask for things from his father.

  "I want to become more involved in the Empire," Theo said, his voice steady despite the weight of his words.

  The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. Max's expression darkened, a frown creasing his brow. Brad remembered conversations he'd had with Theo during their training sessions, where the boy had talked about wanting to make changes. But from Max's reaction, it was clear this was the first he was hearing of it.

  "This is... unexpected," Max said slowly. "You've never shown much interest in the Empire before. In fact, you've been quite vocal about your disdain for our organization."

  Theo met his father's gaze unflinchingly. "Wishing for the Empire to be better from the outside does nothing. If I want to see real change, I need to be involved."

  Max's eyes narrowed, his mind clearly working through the implications of Theo's request. After a moment, he spoke again. "Is this because of Taylor? Has she told you about her involvement with us?"

  Brad tensed slightly. He knew how valuable Taylor's abilities were to the Empire, and how protective Max was of that asset. If Theo had learned about it from her directly...

  But Theo shook his head. "Taylor didn't tell me anything. I figured it out on my own."

  A flicker of pride crossed Max's face, quickly replaced by his usual mask of cool control. "I see. Well, if you're worried about Taylor's safety, you don't need to be. She's very valuable to the Empire, and we will protect her. I'll personally see to it."

  The tension in the room was palpable as Theo's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and pain. In a voice thick with emotion, he said, "Like you protected Mom?"

  The words hung in the air like a physical blow. Brad felt his muscles tensing instinctively, the metal beneath his skin itching to emerge. He'd never seen Max look so... shaken.

  The twins had gone deathly pale, their usual composure cracking. Othala let out a small gasp, her hand flying to her mouth. Tammi looked shocked, but there was a glimmer of something like admiration in her eyes as she looked at Theo.

  Victor caught Brad's eye, and they shared a look of mutual discomfort. This was rapidly becoming the kind of family confrontation that neither of them wanted to be in the middle of.

  Max's face had transformed into a mask of barely contained fury. His glare was so intense that Brad half-expected Theo to trigger on the spot. But the boy stood his ground, meeting his father's gaze without flinching.

  When Max finally spoke, his voice was low and raspy, each word clearly costing him tremendous effort to keep his temper in check. "Your mother was on the front lines as a cape. Taylor's situation is entirely different. You don't need to worry about the same fate befalling her."

  Theo didn't back down. "All the same, I want to do what I can. Even if I haven't triggered yet, there must be ways I can contribute."

  The silence stretched on as Max visibly struggled with his emotions. Brad could almost see the gears turning in his head, weighing the potential benefits and risks of allowing Theo more involvement in the Empire.

  Finally, Max turned to Brad. Through gritted teeth, he said, "Hookwolf, increase Theo's training. If he wants to be more involved, he needs to be prepared for what that entails."

  Brad nodded, careful to keep his expression neutral. "Yes, sir."

  As the tension in the room slowly began to dissipate, Brad caught Nessa's eye. For the first time, he found himself seriously reconsidering what marrying into this family might mean. The Anders were a powder keg of repressed emotions and long-held grudges. Was he ready to tie himself to all of that drama?

  The gift-giving resumed, but the earlier festive mood had been irreparably dampened. Brad found himself lost in thought, barely paying attention to the rest of the presents being opened.

  He thought about Theo, and how the kid had surprised him yet again. Standing up to Max like that took guts. Maybe there was more of Kaiser in the boy than anyone had realized. But was that a good thing? Brad wasn't so sure.

  And then there was Taylor. Brad had only met her a few times, but he could see why Max valued her so highly. Her abilities were game-changing for the Empire. But now, with Theo pushing for more involvement, Brad wondered if they were sitting on a ticking time bomb.

  As the evening wore on, Brad found himself growing increasingly uncomfortable. The fa?ade of a normal family Christmas had been shattered, revealing the complex web of relationships and power dynamics that lay beneath. He was used to the straightforward brutality of the fighting ring or the clear hierarchy of the Empire's foot soldiers. This... this was something else entirely.

  When it was finally time to leave, Brad felt a wave of relief wash over him. As he and Nessa said their goodbyes, he caught Theo's eye. The boy gave him a small nod, a look of determination on his face. Brad returned the nod, a mixture of respect and wariness in his gaze.

  Outside, as they walked to Brad's car, Nessa slipped her arm through his. "Well, that was... eventful," she said, her tone light but her eyes serious.

  Brad grunted in agreement. "Your family certainly knows how to do Christmas."

  Nessa laughed, but it was a hollow sound. "Oh, honey. You haven't seen anything yet. Just wait until you experience a full Anders family reunion."

  As they drove away from the Anders estate, Brad found himself wondering what he'd gotten himself into. He'd always known that being with Nessa meant being connected to the upper echelons of the Empire. But tonight had shown him just how complicated and potentially dangerous those connections could be.

  He glanced at Nessa, her profile illuminated by the passing streetlights. She caught him looking and smiled, reaching over to squeeze his hand. Despite all his doubts and reservations, Brad felt a warmth spread through his chest. Whatever challenges lay ahead, at least he wouldn't be facing them alone.

  The next day, Brad arrived at the gym earlier than usual. He needed to clear his head, and nothing did that better than a brutal workout. As he was setting up the equipment, he heard the door open. To his surprise, Theo walked in, already dressed for training.

  "You're early," Brad said, eyeing the boy critically.

  Theo shrugged. "Figured we might as well get started. You said not to slack off during the holidays, right?"

  Brad grunted in approval. "Alright then. Let's see how those new weights work out for you."

  As they began the workout, Brad found himself pushing Theo harder than usual. Part of it was Max's order to increase the training, but there was something else too. After last night, Brad felt a need to test Theo, to see just how far the kid was willing to go.

  To his credit, Theo met every challenge without complaint. Even when his muscles were shaking with exertion and sweat was pouring down his face, he kept going. Brad found himself impressed despite his best efforts not to be.

  During a brief water break, Brad decided to broach the subject that had been nagging at him since the previous night. "So, you want to get more involved in the Empire. What exactly did you have in mind?"

  Theo took a long drink before answering. "I'm not sure yet. I just know I can't sit on the sidelines anymore. There's too much at stake."

  Brad nodded slowly. "You know it's not going to be easy, right? Your old man, he's not just going to hand over responsibility to you. You're going to have to earn it, and that means doing things you might not be comfortable with."

  "I know," Theo said, his voice quiet but firm. "But if I don't try, nothing will ever change."

  Brad studied the boy for a long moment. He'd seen plenty of young recruits come into the Empire full of big ideas and grand plans. Most of them either fell in line or washed out pretty quickly. But there was something different about Theo. A determination that went beyond mere teenage rebellion or a desire for power.

  "Alright," Brad said finally. "If you're serious about this, I'll do what I can to help. But you need to understand something. The Empire isn't just about ideology or power. It's about loyalty. To each other, to the cause. You start stirring things up, you better be damn sure you're ready for the consequences."

  Theo met his gaze steadily. "I understand. And I appreciate your help, Brad. I know we don't always see eye to eye, but... I respect what you've done for the Empire. For my father."

  Brad felt a sudden, unexpected surge of emotion. He quickly pushed it down, covering it with his usual gruff demeanor. "Yeah, well, don't get all sappy on me now. We've still got another hour of training to get through."

  As they resumed their workout, Brad found his mind wandering to the future. He'd always seen his role in the Empire as straightforward: be the muscle, win the fights, keep the troops in line. But now, with Theo pushing for change and Taylor's influence growing, things were getting more complicated.

  He thought about Nessa, about the life they were building together. About the possibility of a family of his own someday. Was the Empire he'd dedicated his life to the kind of legacy he wanted to leave behind?

  Brad shook his head, pushing those thoughts aside. Now wasn't the time for doubts or second-guessing. He had a job to do, and right now, that job was whipping Theo into shape. Whatever changes were coming, Brad was determined to make sure the kid was ready for them.

  As the workout drew to a close, Brad watched Theo gather his things. The boy was exhausted, but there was a fire in his eyes that hadn't been there before. For better or worse, things in the Empire were about to change. And Brad realized, with a mixture of anticipation and unease, that he was going to be right in the middle of it all.