Brian adjusted his security guard uniform for what felt like the hundredth time. The stiff fabric chafed uncomfortably, and the false face he wore itched incessantly. He glanced at Alec, similarly disguised beside him, and fought the urge to scratch at his own artificial features.

  "Remind me again why we're doing this?" Alec muttered, his usual smirk hidden beneath the latex mask.

  Brian sighed. "Because the boss is paying us a small fortune, and we need the cash. Now shut up and look professional."

  They stood at attention outside the server room, trying their best to blend in with the evening Medhall security. So far, their disguises seemed to be holding up. Lisa, dressed as an IT technician, had already slipped inside to begin downloading the data their mysterious employer wanted.

  "I still say this is a waste of time," Alec grumbled. "What could possibly be so important about some pharmaceutical company's files?"

  Brian shrugged minutely. "Not our job to know. We just get in, get the data, and get out."

  "Yeah, yeah. Easy peasy, right?" Alec's sarcasm was palpable even through the mask.

  The sound of approaching footsteps had both of them tensing. A pair of actual security guards rounded the corner, eyeing them suspiciously.

  "Hey," one called out. "I don't recognize you two. When did you start?"

  Brian's mind raced, but before he could formulate a response, Lisa's voice crackled in his earpiece.

  "Tell them you're new transfers from the downtown office. There was a memo about additional security this week due to a potential corporate espionage threat."

  Brian repeated the information smoothly, watching as the guards' suspicion faded. They nodded, apparently satisfied, and continued on their rounds.

  As soon as they were out of earshot, Alec let out a low whistle. "Nice save, Tats. How'd you know about that memo?"

  "I didn't," Lisa's smug voice replied. "But it's the kind of thing a paranoid CEO would do. And from what I've seen so far, Anders definitely fits that profile."

  Brian frowned. "Speaking of Anders, any idea what the boss wants with his company's data? This seems like a lot of risk for corporate secrets."

  There was a pause before Lisa answered. "I'm... not sure. There's something weird about these files. A lot of it looks like normal business stuff, but there are some encrypted sections that don't fit. I'm copying everything, but we might need to bring in some outside help to make sense of it all."

  "Great," Alec drawled. "More variables. Because this job wasn't complicated enough already."

  Brian was about to reprimand him when movement at the end of the hallway caught his eye. His blood ran cold as he recognized the two figures approaching.

  "Shit," he hissed. "We've got company. Cape company."

  Alec tensed beside him. "Who?"

  "Othala," Brian murmured. "And... I think that's the new one. Miss Stepford."

  "Well, fuck me sideways," Alec muttered. "Way to jinx us, fearless leader."

  Brian ignored him, focusing on the approaching capes. Othala he recognized easily – her costume was well-known in cape circles. But Miss Stepford... she was an unknown quantity. The Empire's newest member had been making waves, but information on her was scarce.

  As the pair drew closer, Brian could make out snippets of their conversation.

  "...really think you could do that?" Othala was saying, her voice tinged with excitement.

  Miss Stepford seemed less enthusiastic. "I don't know, Othala. It doesn't seem right to mess with your personality like that, even if you're asking for it."

  Brian's mind raced, trying to piece together what they were discussing. Some kind of power-induced personality change? He filed the information away for later, focusing on the more immediate problem of not blowing their cover.

  As the two capes approached, Brian straightened his posture, doing his best to look like a proper security guard. Beside him, Alec did the same, though Brian could practically feel the tension radiating off him.

  Othala barely spared them a glance as she passed, still deep in conversation with Miss Stepford. But the newer cape's eyes lingered on them, a slight frown visible beneath her mask.

  For a heart-stopping moment, Brian thought they'd been made. But Miss Stepford simply nodded politely and continued on.

  Brian let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. That had been too close.

  But their relief was short-lived. As the capes moved past them, Othala suddenly stopped, her head snapping back towards them.

  "You there," she barked, her voice sharp. "Stand up straight when you're on duty. This isn't some minimum wage mall cop job."

  Brian realized she was addressing Alec, who had slumped slightly after the capes passed. He cursed internally. Of all the times for Alec to break character...

  "Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am," Alec mumbled, straightening up.

  But the damage was done. Miss Stepford was eyeing them both now, her earlier frown deepening.

  "I don't think I've seen you two around before," she said, her voice deceptively casual. "What are your names?"

  Brian's mind raced, trying to come up with a plausible lie. But before he could speak, Lisa's urgent voice crackled in his ear.

  "We're blown. Get ready to move."

  As if on cue, the elevator at the end of the hall dinged. The doors slid open, revealing two more security guards – real ones this time.

  One of them called out, his hand moving towards his radio. "Hey! What's going on here?"

  In that moment, Brian made a split-second decision. They couldn't afford to be caught here, not with the data they'd stolen. He'd have to use his power and hope for the best.

  Darkness exploded outwards, filling the hallway with an impenetrable cloud of inky black smoke. Brian heard Othala and Miss Stepford cry out in surprise, but he was already moving.

  He yanked open the server room door. "Tattletale! We're made. Time to go!"

  Taylor's heart raced as the hallway filled with impenetrable darkness. She stumbled, disoriented by the sudden loss of vision. Instinctively, she reached into one of her apron pockets, fingers closing around a familiar device.

  "Othala?" she called out, her voice muffled by the strange smoke. "Are you okay?"

  There was no response. Taylor strained her ears, trying to pinpoint where the intruders might be. She thought she heard movement to her left and made a split-second decision.

  With practiced ease, Taylor activated the incapacitation device and threw it in the direction of the noise. She waited, breath held, for the telltale not-sound that usually accompanied its activation.

  Nothing happened.

  Taylor frowned, confused. Her devices had never failed before. Was something interfering with them? She didn't have time to ponder it further as the darkness began to thin.

  As her vision cleared, Taylor's eyes widened in alarm. One of the fake security guards was lunging towards her, a crackling stun gun in his hand. Time seemed to slow as she watched the weapon's prongs inching closer to her body.

  Suddenly, she felt a hand grip her shoulder. "Speed!" Othala's voice rang out.

  The world blurred. Taylor felt her body moving faster than she'd ever experienced, easily evading the stun gun. But the abrupt acceleration left her head spinning, and she stumbled as the effect faded.

  Through her disorientation, Taylor caught sight of two figures emerging from the dissipating smoke – the other fake guard and what looked like a technician. They were running full-tilt towards the exit.

  Gritting her teeth, Taylor reached for another incapacitation device. She couldn't let them escape, not when they might have sensitive information about Medhall or the Empire.

  As she drew back her arm to throw, a strange sensation overtook her. Her muscles spasmed violently, causing her to lose her grip. The device clattered to the floor, rolling back into the lingering wisps of darkness.

  "What the-" Taylor gasped, staring at her betraying limb in shock.

  The fake guard who'd tried to stun her earlier was now sprinting after his companions, a smirk visible on his face as he glanced back at her.

  Taylor moved to give chase, but Othala's urgent voice stopped her. "Wait! We can't risk being seen in costume at Medhall. It could compromise everything."

  Frustration welled up in Taylor. She knew Othala was right, but the thought of letting the intruders escape galled her. "Then give me something ranged," she demanded. "We can't just let them go!"

  Othala hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "Pyrokinesis," she said, touching Taylor's arm again.

  Immediately, Taylor felt heat building within her. She focused on the retreating figures, willing the fire to form. A ball of flame coalesced in her palm, and with a practiced motion born from imbedded skills, she hurled it towards the fleeing technician.

  For a moment, Taylor thought she had them. But at the last second, the woman spun around, somehow sensing the incoming attack. With impressive reflexes, she swung her bag up to shield herself.

  The fireball struck the bag dead center. There was a brief, intense flare as the flames consumed the fabric. When it cleared, the woman was still standing, relatively unharmed. But the bag – and whatever had been inside it – was reduced to smoldering ashes.

  The technician's eyes met Taylor's, and even from a distance, the intensity of her glare was palpable. Then she was gone, disappearing around a corner with her companions.

  Taylor sagged, the adrenaline that had been fueling her beginning to ebb. She felt Othala's steadying hand on her back.

  "Come on," the older cape said gently. "Let's get back to your lab. We need to report this."

  As they walked, Taylor's mind raced. Who were those intruders? What had they been after? And how had they managed to counter her device?

  "You did well," Othala said, breaking into her thoughts. "First time in a real fight?"

  Taylor nodded, a bit embarrassed. "Is it that obvious?"

  Othala chuckled. "A little. But don't worry, you'll get used to it. We all start somewhere."

  They reached Taylor's lab, and she immediately went to her workbench, pulling out tools and components. Her fingers itched to start working, to improve her devices and ensure they wouldn't fail again.

  "I should have been better prepared," Taylor muttered, more to herself than Othala. "If I'd had more variety in my arsenal, or if my incapacitation device had worked in that darkness..."

  Othala watched her for a moment before speaking. "Taylor, you can't predict everything. What matters is how you adapt. And for your first encounter, you handled yourself well."

  Taylor paused in her tinkering, considering Othala's words. "I suppose," she conceded. "But I still have so much to learn."

  "That's why you're here," Othala said with a smile. "The Empire will help you reach your full potential. And in return, you'll help make Brockton Bay a better place."

  Taylor's mind raced as she processed the events of the past few minutes. The adrenaline was slowly fading, leaving her with a mixture of frustration and curiosity. She glanced at Othala, who seemed far more composed than Taylor felt.

  "You handled yourself well out there," Othala said, offering a reassuring smile. "Most people freeze up their first time in combat."

  Taylor nodded, grateful for the compliment, but a question nagged at her. "Thanks, but... I'm surprised you've seen much combat yourself. I mean, with your power being focused on granting abilities to others, I would have thought you'd stay out of the action."

  Othala chuckled, her single eye twinkling with amusement. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? But my powers don't last very long. Usually just a few minutes at most. So I have to stay close to the fight to keep refreshing them."

  "Really?" Taylor asked, intrigued. "I hadn't realized there were such strict limitations."

  Othala nodded. "That's why I'm usually paired with Victor or a team that's trained extensively with me. They know how to maximize the use of their temporary powers within those short windows."

  Taylor mulled this over, seeing the tactical implications. "So you're constantly cycling through different power grants during a fight?"

  "Exactly," Othala confirmed. "It requires a lot of coordination and split-second decision-making. One moment I might be granting super-speed to help someone dodge an attack, the next I'm giving them invulnerability to tank a hit we couldn't avoid."

  Taylor's respect for Othala's combat role grew. "That sounds incredibly challenging. How do you keep track of everything in the heat of battle?"

  Othala shrugged. "Practice, mostly. And trust in my teammates. We've developed a sort of shorthand over time. Sometimes just a look or a hand signal is enough for them to know what power they're about to receive."

  Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Victor entered the room, his usual composed demeanor slightly ruffled. His eyes quickly scanned both Taylor and Othala, checking for any signs of injury.

  "Are you two alright?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

  Othala nodded, moving to his side. "We're fine, thanks to Taylor's quick thinking."

  Victor raised an eyebrow, looking impressed. "Good work, Miss Stepford. I heard you gave them quite a chase."

  Taylor felt a flush of pride at the praise, but her curiosity won out. "Thank you, but... who exactly were they? Did we manage to catch them?"

  Victor's expression darkened slightly. "Unfortunately, no. They managed to escape. As for who they were..." He paused, considering his words carefully. "They're a group called the Undersiders. Up-and-coming thieves who've been making a name for themselves lately."

  Taylor frowned. "Thieves? What could they possibly want from Medhall?"

  "That's what we're trying to figure out," Victor replied. "They seemed to be after something in the server room, but thanks to your intervention, we don't think they managed to get away with any significant data."

  Othala squeezed Victor's arm. "At least no one was seriously hurt, right?"

  Victor winced slightly. "Well, mostly. Stormtiger took a hit during the chase. He'll be coming by for healing soon."

  Othala let out an exasperated sigh. "Let me guess. It's his knee again, isn't it?"

  As if on cue, the door opened once more. Cricket entered, supporting a limping Stormtiger. The aerokinetic's face was contorted in a grimace of pain.

  "Of course it's my damn knee," Stormtiger growled through gritted teeth. "It's always the bloody knee."

  Taylor watched, fascinated, as Othala immediately shifted into a more professional demeanor. She helped Cricket guide Stormtiger to a nearby chair, her hands already glowing with her power.

  "I swear, Stormtiger," Othala said, shaking her head as she began to work on his injury. "Your knees must be cursed or something. Do you remember that time Assault broke it during that skirmish downtown?"

  Stormtiger grunted. "How could I forget? Bastard's got a mean right hook."

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  "Or when Lung nearly torched it off during that warehouse raid?" Cricket chimed in, her voice raspy but tinged with amusement.

  "Don't remind me," Stormtiger groaned. "I still have nightmares about that one."

  Othala continued, seemingly enjoying the chance to recount Stormtiger's misfortunes. "And let's not forget the incident with Skidmark's fields. You wrenched it so badly trying to navigate that mess."

  Taylor listened, wide-eyed, as they recounted Stormtiger's apparently extensive history of knee injuries. It was surreal, hearing these notorious villains banter so casually about their encounters with other capes.

  "Oh!" Othala exclaimed, as if suddenly remembering. "What about that time you took an arrow to the knee from Shadow Stalker?"

  Cricket, who had been leaning against the wall, straightened up. "Actually," she interjected, her mechanical voice carrying a hint of pedantry, "since Shadow Stalker uses a crossbow, those are technically bolts, not arrows."

  Othala rolled her eye. "Same difference," she said dismissively.

  Taylor couldn't help but chuckle at the exchange, drawing curious looks from the others. She quickly composed herself, not wanting to seem disrespectful.

  "Sorry," she said, "it's just... I never imagined cape life involved so many... occupational hazards."

  Stormtiger barked out a laugh, then winced as the movement jostled his injured knee. "Kid, you don't know the half of it. This life's full of weird injuries and close calls."

  Victor nodded in agreement. "It's not all glorious battles and daring heists. Sometimes it's slipping on Hellhound's dog drool or getting a concussion from one of Uber and Leet's malfunctioning gadgets."

  Taylor's mind whirled with this new perspective on cape life. It was so different from the sanitized versions she'd seen on TV or read about online. There was a strange camaraderie here, even in the midst of their criminal activities.

  As Othala patched up Stormtiger's knee to where it could at least bear his weight, Taylor found herself wondering about the lives of other capes in the city. Did the heroes swap similar stories? Was there a Protectorate equivalent of Stormtiger's cursed knees?

  "There," Othala said, stepping back from Stormtiger. "Should get you by till I can spend more time on it tonight. Can you keep from injuring it further today, hmm?"

  Stormtiger stood, testing his weight on the somewhat healed joint. "No promises," he grumbled, but there was a hint of a smile on his face.

  Cricket moved to Stormtiger's side, ready to support him if needed. "Come on, you big baby," she teased. "Let's get you home before you find some other way to injure yourself."

  As the two made their way out of the room, Taylor turned to Victor and Othala. "So... what happens now? With the Undersiders, I mean."

  Victor's expression turned serious. "We'll increase security, of course. And we'll be keeping a closer eye on their activities in the future. But for now..." He glanced at Taylor, a hint of approval in his eyes. "I think we owe you our thanks, Miss Stepford. Your quick action may have prevented a significant breach."

  Taylor felt a warmth of pride at the praise, but it was tinged with an undercurrent of unease. She was helping the Empire, yes, but they were still criminals. The line between right and wrong seemed to blur more each day.

  "I'm just glad I could help," she said carefully. "Though I wish my devices had worked better in that darkness."

  Othala placed a comforting hand on Taylor's shoulder. "Don't be too hard on yourself. Every cape has to deal with power interactions that don't go their way sometimes. What matters is how you adapt."

  Victor glanced at his watch, then back at Taylor. "It's getting late. You should probably head home for the day - get some rest after all this excitement."

  Taylor nodded, suddenly aware of how drained she felt. The adrenaline crash was hitting her hard.

  "Oh, and the boss will want to speak with you tomorrow about what happened," Victor added. "First thing in the morning, if possible."

  Othala squeezed Taylor's arm reassuringly. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble. He just likes to stay informed about everything that happens here."

  "Right," Taylor said, gathering her things. Her mind was already racing with questions about what Kaiser might want to know, but she forced herself to focus on the present. "Same time as usual tomorrow then?"

  "That would be perfect," Victor confirmed. "I'll make sure security escorts you to your car."

  Taylor caught the subtle emphasis on 'security' - a reminder that there might still be threats lurking about. She appreciated the concern, even if it came from criminals.

  As she packed up her equipment, Othala helped, chattering about various things they could work on tomorrow after Taylor's meeting. The normalcy of it all struck Taylor as almost surreal after the day's events.

  Coil leaned back in his chair, a frown creasing his face as he closed the timeline where Bitch met her untimely end at Hookwolf's hands. The scenario played out in his mind again - the Undersiders discovered in their staging area, the ensuing fight with Hookwolf, Cricket, and Storm Tiger. Bitch's stubborn refusal to retreat, her dogs overwhelmed by Hookwolf's relentless assault. The sickening crunch as the Empire cape ended the young villain's life.

  He massaged his temples, feeling a headache brewing. This was the second time he'd nearly lost one of his assets due to poor planning. He was getting sloppy, and in his line of work, that was unacceptable.

  With a few keystrokes, Coil pulled up the report from the timeline he'd been forced to keep - the one where the Undersiders escaped unharmed, but empty-handed. It was far from ideal, but it beat the alternative of a dead cape and a captured Thinker.

  "Note to self," he muttered, typing into his personal log. "Either Cricket's or Storm Tiger's enhanced senses extend further than previously thought. Adjust future plans accordingly."

  The failed operation gnawed at him. He'd wanted that Medhall data, needed it to further his plans. But more than that, he wanted Miss Stepford out of the picture. The Tinker's presence in Brockton Bay was throwing off too many of his carefully laid schemes.

  Coil pulled up a map of the city, studying the area around Medhall. In hindsight, setting the staging area so close to the target had been a rookie mistake. He'd gotten overconfident, assuming the Empire wouldn't have extended their patrols that far out. It was a miscalculation that had nearly cost him dearly.

  "Patience," he reminded himself. The Travelers were en route. Once they arrived, he'd have more pieces to move on the board. For now, he needed to play it safe, gather intelligence from a distance.

  Coil opened a new document, beginning to compile what little data they had managed to glean about Miss Stepford and her operations. It wasn't much, but every scrap of information could prove vital in the long run.

  As he worked, his mind drifted to the bigger picture. Brockton Bay was changing, the balance of power shifting in ways he hadn't anticipated. The Empire was growing stronger, more organized. The Merchants, once a joke, were becoming a legitimate threat under new management. And at the center of it all was Miss Stepford, her Tinker creations reshaping the landscape of the city's underworld.

  He needed to adapt, to stay ahead of the curve. But how?

  Coil's fingers hovered over the keyboard as he considered his next move. The failed operation at Medhall had been a setback, but perhaps he could turn it to his advantage. Let the Empire grow complacent, thinking they'd thwarted a simple theft. Meanwhile, he could work from the shadows, gathering intel and preparing for his next strike.

  A notification popped up on his screen - an update from one of his moles in the PRT. He opened it, scanning the contents quickly. Apparently, there was some internal strife brewing between Armsmaster and Director Piggot over how to handle the Miss Stepford situation. Interesting. Perhaps there was an opportunity there to be exploited.

  Coil made a note to look into that further. If he could drive a wedge between the Protectorate and the PRT, it would only make his own operations easier.

  His phone buzzed - a message from Tattletale. He opened it, half-expecting a barrage of complaints about the failed mission. Instead, he found a surprisingly detailed analysis of Miss Stepford's abilities based on their brief encounter.

  "Clever girl," Coil murmured, impressed despite himself. Even in failure, Tattletale managed to gather useful intelligence. He'd have to remember to reward her for that initiative.

  As he read through Tattletale's observations, a plan began to form in Coil's mind. Miss Stepford's devices seemed to have specific weaknesses - Grue's darkness had rendered them ineffective. If he could gather more data on those limitations, find ways to exploit them...

  But no, he was getting ahead of himself again. That kind of direct confrontation was what had nearly cost him Bitch and Tattletale. He needed to be smarter, more cautious.

  Coil closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to center himself. When he opened them again, he began typing out a new set of orders for his operatives. Surveillance only for now. No direct engagement. Gather information, build a complete picture of Miss Stepford's operations and allies.

  He'd wait for the Travelers to arrive before making any bold moves. In the meantime, he could work on solidifying his own position, shoring up any weaknesses in his organization.

  As he worked, Coil couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he was missing something. Some crucial piece of the puzzle that would make everything fall into place. But what?

  He shook his head, pushing the thought aside. Speculation without data was useless. He'd stick to the facts, build his plans on solid ground.

  Hours passed as Coil pored over reports, analyzed data, and refined his strategies. The sun had long since set by the time he finally leaned back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes.

  Progress had been made, but it felt incremental. The setback at Medhall still rankled, a reminder of how quickly things could go wrong in this game they played.

  Coil stood, stretching muscles stiff from hours of sitting. He walked to the window, gazing out at the city lights twinkling in the distance. Somewhere out there, Miss Stepford was probably celebrating her small victory, unaware of the forces aligning against her.

  "Enjoy it while you can," he murmured to the unseen Tinker. "Your days in Brockton Bay are numbered."

  With that ominous thought, Coil returned to his desk. There was still work to be done, plans to be made. The game was far from over, and he intended to emerge victorious, no matter the cost.

  The dining room was quiet, save for the soft clink of silverware against fine china. Theo sat across from his father, Max Anders, at the long mahogany table. The room felt cavernous with just the two of them, the empty chairs a silent reminder of the family they'd lost.

  Max cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Brad tells me he's been quite impressed with your training progress."

  Theo looked up from his plate, surprise flitting across his face. "Really? I mean, he's surprisingly a good teacher and trainer. I didn't expect that from him."

  Max nodded, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Hookwolf may be brutal in combat, but he understands the value of discipline and hard work. I'm glad to see you're taking it seriously."

  "I am," Theo said, sitting up a little straighter. "It's... important to me."

  There was a moment of awkward silence as both father and son searched for what to say next. Max took a sip of his wine, then spoke again.

  "James has also mentioned your involvement in some of our recent operations. He says you have a good head for planning."

  Theo tensed slightly at the mention of Krieg. "What else did he say?"

  Max hesitated, then decided honesty was the best approach. "He thinks you're a bit soft. That you're not willing to take the necessary risks."

  Theo's jaw clenched. "If we did things Krieg's way, the whole city would turn against us in an instant. There has to be a balance."

  To Theo's surprise, Max nodded in agreement. "Krieg is... too hardline in his approach. It's why I value having different perspectives in our organization. Including yours."

  The compliment caught Theo off guard, and he wasn't quite sure how to respond. He focused on his food for a moment, pushing a piece of asparagus around his plate.

  Max watched his son, concern creasing his brow. "Theo, with all of this extra work you're doing for the Empire, I was wondering if you needed some time off from school. To focus on your other responsibilities."

  Theo's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. "I can handle it. I'll keep up with my schoolwork in addition to my extra-curriculars. You don't need to worry about that."

  Max held up a hand, realizing his mistake. "That's not what I meant. I just don't want you to feel overwhelmed. Your education is important, but so is your role in the Empire. I want to make sure you have the support you need."

  But Theo had already interpreted his father's words as a challenge, a subtle dig at his capabilities. "I said I can handle it," he repeated, his tone sharper than before. "I'm not a child anymore, Dad. I can manage my own time."

  Max sighed, recognizing the familiar wall going up between them. He'd meant to offer help, but somehow it had come across as criticism. Again. He searched for a way to change the subject, to ease the tension that had settled over the table.

  "Did you hear about what happened at Medhall today?" he asked, hoping to steer the conversation in a less contentious direction.

  Theo shook his head, curiosity overriding his irritation for the moment.

  "Taylor helped stop some thieves from stealing company data," Max explained. "She and Othala encountered them near the server room."

  Theo's eyes widened, concern immediately replacing his earlier defensiveness. "Is she okay? Was anyone hurt?"

  Max was quick to reassure him. "Taylor's fine. There was only one injury, and it was to Storm Tiger. He'll be alright, though."

  Theo's brow furrowed. "Let me guess. His knee again?"

  Max couldn't help but chuckle. "How did you know?"

  "It's always his knee," Theo said, shaking his head. "I swear, that man has the worst luck when it comes to injuries."

  The shared moment of amusement helped dissipate some of the earlier tension. Max leaned back in his chair, studying his son. "Taylor's quick thinking and reaction were critical in stopping the theft. She's proving to be quite an asset."

  Theo nodded, a hint of pride in his expression. "She's amazing. I mean, her inventions are incredible, but it's more than that. She really cares about making things better."

  Max raised an eyebrow at his son's enthusiasm. "You two have gotten quite close, haven't you?"

  Theo tensed again, suddenly wary. "We're dating. And I admire what she's trying to do."

  "Of course," Max said smoothly. "I'm glad you've found someone you connect with. It's important to have allies you can trust."

  There was something in his father's tone that made Theo uneasy, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. He decided to change the subject slightly. "So, what's going to happen with Medhall's security after this? I'm sure the police will want to investigate."

  Max waved a hand dismissively. "We've managed to suppress knowledge that the Undersiders were even there. As far as the authorities are concerned, it was just a failed break-in attempt by some common thieves. No need for extensive police scrutiny."

  Theo nodded, relieved that Taylor wouldn't be caught up in a police investigation. But his father wasn't done speaking.

  "Actually, I've been considering making some changes in light of this incident," Max continued. "I'm thinking about having more of our capes reveal their civilian identities to Taylor. It would make things easier if we didn't have costumed individuals wandering the halls of Medhall all the time."

  Theo's fork paused halfway to his mouth. He set it down carefully, buying himself a moment to think. "That's... a big step. Are you sure it's necessary?"

  Max shrugged. "It would certainly make things more convenient. And it's not as if Taylor doesn't already know about the connection between Medhall and the Empire. What do you think?"

  Theo felt like he was walking through a minefield. He knew his father was fishing for information, trying to gauge what he knew about Taylor's true intentions. But the frustrating thing was, Theo couldn't quite remember what those intentions were. Every time he tried to focus on it, the thought slipped away like smoke.

  "I think..." Theo began slowly, "it should be obvious why I started taking a more active role in the Empire. It was because of Taylor."

  Max leaned forward, his gaze intent. "Oh? How so?"

  Theo took a deep breath. "Seeing her work, her dedication to improving things... it made me realize that sitting on the sidelines wasn't enough. If I want to make a difference, I need to be involved."

  Max nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer. "I'm glad to hear that, son. It's important to have convictions, to stand for something."

  Theo felt a twinge of disgust at those words, finding his father's words hypocritical. He pressed on, needing to make his position clear. "I'm not proud of everything the Empire has done. But after seeing what the ABB has been up to, the way they treat people... I realized there are worse things in this city."

  Max's expression softened slightly. "The world isn't black and white, Theo. Sometimes we have to make difficult choices for the greater good."

  Theo nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He felt torn between his loyalty to his family and... something else. Something he couldn't quite remember.

  Max spoke as he resumed eating "I've been thinking... perhaps it's time I revealed my own identity to Taylor as well. It would make things easier for you two, allow you to speak more freely about Empire matters."

  Theo's heart rate spiked. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, isn't it safer to keep some separation between Medhall and the Empire?"

  Max waved off his concerns. "Taylor's already proven her loyalty. And as you said, she's the reason you've become more involved. I think it's time we bring her fully into the fold."

  Max's expression grew distant, his fingers absently turning the stem of his wine glass. "When a couple works together, truly works as one... they can accomplish incredible things." His voice held a note of wistfulness Theo rarely heard. "Your mother and I... well, we had plans. Big plans."

  Theo shifted uncomfortably in his chair. His father rarely spoke about his mother, Heather.

  The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken grief. Theo wanted to ask what those plans had been, what vision his parents had shared, but the words caught in his throat. His father's eyes had that faraway look that meant he was lost in memories Theo couldn't access.

  Max finally shook himself from his reverie and stood from the table. "Well, that's enough reminiscing for one evening. Thank you for joining me for dinner, son."

  Theo watched his father leave the dining room, wondering what exactly his parents had planned to accomplish together, and why he'd never heard about it before.

  Taylor followed the Menja and Fenja through Medhall's corridors, her mind still replaying yesterday's encounter with the Undersiders. The twins' matching strides echoed in the hallway, their presence both intimidating and oddly comforting. They'd been nothing but professional since collecting her from her lab, but Taylor sensed an underlying tension.

  They arrived at an imposing oak door. Fenja - or was it Menja? Taylor still struggled to tell them apart - knocked twice before opening it.

  "Miss Stepford is here, sir," one of the twins announced.

  Kaiser sat behind a massive desk, his costume replaced by an impeccable suit. He gestured for Taylor to enter. "Thank you, ladies. Please, come in and have a seat, Miss Stepford."

  Taylor complied, settling into a plush leather chair across from Kaiser. The twins took up positions flanking the door, silent sentinels.

  "I wanted to personally commend you on your actions yesterday," Kaiser began, his voice smooth and authoritative. "Your quick thinking and resourcefulness were instrumental in protecting Medhall's interests."

  Taylor nodded, but couldn't keep the frustration from her voice. "Thank you, sir. Though I wish we'd been able to apprehend the intruders."

  Kaiser waved a hand dismissively. "The Undersiders escaped, yes, but you prevented them from stealing any valuable data. That's a victory in itself."

  He leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "Besides, most engagements between capes are kept to certain... standards. Unwritten rules, if you will. It helps maintain a delicate balance."

  Taylor's brow furrowed. "But they got away. Shouldn't we have done everything possible to stop them?"

  Kaiser's lips quirked into a small smile. "Your dedication is admirable, Miss Stepford. But escalating conflicts too far can lead to unintended consequences. Sometimes, it's better to accept a minor setback to avoid a larger one."

  He paused, studying her for a moment. "Your work these past weeks has been exemplary. You've proven yourself to be not just talented, but loyal and level-headed. I believe you've earned a greater level of trust within our organization."

  Taylor straightened in her chair, a mix of pride and wariness coursing through her. "Thank you, sir. I'm honored by your confidence."

  Kaiser nodded, then reached up and removed his mask. Taylor found herself looking into the face of Max Anders, CEO of Medhall.

  "I believe it's time we dispensed with some of the artifice between us," he said, his voice losing some of its metallic edge without the mask. "As you've no doubt gathered, Medhall and the Empire are... closely intertwined."

  Taylor blinked, feeling like she should be more surprised by this revelation.

  Max gestured to the twins. "Ladies, if you would?"

  The two statuesque blondes removed their own masks. "Jessica," said one. "Nessa," said the other. Taylor recognized them now as the models who'd been friendly with Emma and Theo's sister figures.

  "Victor and Othala will also be revealing their civilian identities to you shortly," Max continued. "The rest of our capes will do so at their own discretion. This level of trust is not given lightly, Miss Stepford. I hope you understand the significance."

  Taylor nodded, her mind racing. "I do, sir. Thank you for your faith in me."

  Max leaned back in his chair, a satisfied expression on his face. "You've more than earned it. Now, let's discuss the real reason I called you here today. We're about to embark on a major operation, one that will significantly alter the balance of power in Brockton Bay."

  He paused, making sure he had Taylor's full attention. "And your contributions will be vital to its success."

  Taylor leaned forward, both excited and apprehensive about what Kaiser - Max - was about to reveal. The weight of the trust placed in her settled heavily on her shoulders, but she was determined to prove herself worthy of it.

  Max began outlining the operation, his voice filled with confidence and purpose. "As you're aware, we've been steadily pushing back against the ABB's territory. Thanks to your innovations, our foot soldiers are now operating at a level that rivals many capes. But Lung remains a significant obstacle."

  Taylor nodded, recalling the fearsome reputation of the dragon-man. "His power makes him nearly unstoppable in a prolonged fight."

  "Precisely," Max agreed. "Which is why we're not going to fight him - at least, not directly. We're going to undermine the very foundation of his organization."

  Taylor was enthralled as He pulled out a map of Brockton Bay, spreading it across the desk and began laying an operation that would change the city to its core.