The knock echoed louder into the still evening that it should have, like it was alerting the world to Dean's mission. He swallowed heavily and drew himself up, squaring his shoulders and raising his chin. Imperious, haughty, but determined...hopefully more determined. Inside he heard footsteps echoing down the stairs and quickly checked his watch. Not long at all.

  “Dean?” Victoria greeted him, fully costumed. “What are you--” He cut her off with a tight embrace. She stiffened briefly, then wrapped her arms around him. “Hey, missed you too. Want to come in for a sec?”

  “Yeah,” he said hoarsely, letting her go. “And I missed you too, Vicky.”

  She smiled and floated up, pecking his cheek before landing again and walking inside. He followed quickly after, eyes flicking around the living room just inside. Mark was there on the couch, watching TV, or at least staring at it judging by how little his palette changed with the comedy on screen. Dean winced and averted his eyes, he'd been the only one lucky enough to be saved that day...

  “What brings you by?” Victoria asked, walking over and giving her dad a hug before unclipping his bib.

  “Oh, just visiting you know?” he replied with a shrug. He didn't like lying to Vicky one bit, but seeing Lia... “We've been busy, I haven't had the chance to come by much.”

  “Yeah,” she said, maybe a little coldly. “Sorry, things have been...hard.” He nodded.

  “We'll get through this,” Dean said, putting a little more confidence into his voice than he felt. He came up behind Vicky and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned in with a sigh. “I promise.”

  “I can almost believe it when you say so,” she murmured, her hand resting on his chest. “Hey, you're wearing your armour. What's up?”

  “Brockton Bay,” he replied with a shrug. “You heard what happened yesterday.”

  “Yeah,” Victoria said, hand gripping his hoodie tightly. “I'm sorry Dean.”

  “I'm okay,” Dean said. A little white lie. “And I want to keep it that way.” Victoria tilted her head up and kissed his chin.

  “I do too,” she said. Victoria suddenly pulled away, turning to the stairs as footsteps came down from above.

  “Glory Girl, ah.” Brandish stopped a couple steps from the bottom, frowning at Dean. “Gallant. What are you doing here?” Her tone for him was much colder.

  “Just in the neighbourhood, ma'am,” Dean replied, all business, if not truthful. “Is something wrong?”

  “Howling down at the Trainyard,” she replied tersely. “Come on, we need to go.” She stared at him, pointedly maybe. His eyes flicked up and he saw Amy's familiar palette hiding almost out of sight on the steps.

  “Need any reinforcements?” It was an empty offer, but Dean felt important to make.

  “We should be plenty,” Victoria replied, giving him a brief hug. “See you when I get back?” He caught Brandish's look.

  “Sorry, can't,” he replied, affecting sheepishness. “Never a minute of rest for a Ward captain.” They shared a chuckle, then all three headed out the door.

  Glory Girl and Brandish took to the skies as Dean began walking down the street. He didn't go far, of course, only a block until both heroines had disappeared from sight. With a sigh, he doubled back towards their house, stopping a few doors down and stepping behind a large shrubbery. Sure maybe he looked like a stalker, but this was important.

  He couldn't quite see the front of the house, but had a view of the whole street and most of the yard. Should have brought back up, someone to keep an eye on the backyard. But Lia had been...insistent. Something in her eyes, not her palette, was what kept his mouth shut. Those dull, grey eyes awash in a sea of blood, looking at him with conviction he couldn't even find among churchgoers.

  What happened that she had a sudden downturn on her first day? It hadn't been the pinkish nerves of first-day jitters he'd seen on other Wards, nor the cowardly yellow of fear overblown. What had made Lia look like that? At this point he wasn't sure he'd ever know, she wasn't too talkative. All the same, and he hated himself for thinking it, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

  Yamada's words from earlier echoed in Dean's mind, but he shook them off. He had to focus, and he was already getting distracted. The street was empty, and he was willing to bet most of these houses were too. Even though they hadn't been damaged at all by Leviathan, beyond losing some tiles and gutters, most of the families around had decided it was time for a long overdue vacation. Dean couldn't blame them, but it still dug at him like a tick.

  Slowly, carefully, he examined the dark windows for any sign of someone hidden within. He knew what was coming, or at least Lia thought she did. Dean wasn't one for faith but--

  The sudden slam of a door echoed up the otherwise silent street, startling him out of thought. He scanned the road quickly, but it was as empty as ever. That had been close, had it been... Oh who was he fucking kidding? A confirmed precog looked him in the eyes and spoke doom on Amy's head. He tore into his bag and donned his helmet and gauntlets, then sprinted up the road to the Dallon house.

  It was still and silent, no sign of anything that had gone wrong. Polarized glass kept him from seeing through the massive picture window into the living room. Gallant crept along the side of the house, keeping his eyes roaming, searching for any sign of trouble. He came around the back and, with a little trouble, clambered over the tall fence that blocked it off.

  The backyard was empty, besides the barbeque on the patio, knocked over and spilling its charcoal, huh... He climbed the rest of the way over the fence, landing on the grass as quietly as he could with thirty pounds of armour on. Gallant padded across the grass, slowing when he got to the concrete of the patio. There were odd lines, like claw marks almost, dug into the surface and a footprint in the spilled soot.

  He noticed his hand shaking, as he reached out for the back door into the kitchen. He clenched his fist and took a deep, slow breath, then let it out. Gallant had to do this, for Amy, for Lia. He gripped the knob and silently pushed his way into the Dallons' home.

  It felt weird, like he was an intruder coming in this way, but he crushed the feeling as a conversation from the living room became audible. Gallant couldn't quite make out the words, but he recognized Amy's voice, quaking, terrified, speaking to someone who sounded twelve. Bonesaw, who else could it be? He crept closer to the open door leading to the kitchen, straining his ears.

  He caught snippets of their conversation, Bonesaw promising to work on Amy's 'limits', which couldn't mean anything good. Gallant paused as the conversation went silent, then was startled by a happy little noise from the little psychopath. She said something about a 'hack job', but he was done listening. Behind his back, a little yellow ball began to grow. He poured every bit of his fear into it, every rapid beat of his heart, every shuddering breath of processed air, every bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. He rounded the corner and threw it at the shortest, blondest target in the room.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Bonesaw was knocked to the ground, crying out as a concentrated wave of terror washed over her. Without warning, a giant loomed up in front of him. Gallant recognized Hachet Face just in time for him to lose sight of his palette. He ducked a swing of the killer's wicked axe, then planted a solid strike on his kidney. It didn't have a noticeable effect, but he was able to hop back and out of the range of Hatchet Face's power-killing ability.

  “Look out!”

  Gallant snapped his head around and saw a monster, an abominable amalgamation of people that vaguely looked like a centaur, just with two heads and made of people. He threw a quickly charged orb of ennui, then grunted in pain as an axe-blow glanced off his pauldron. He whipped back around and narrowly avoided another strike. This was bad, this was really bad. He threw another orb at Bonesaw, who shouldn't have been recovered and certainly not enough to handle vials of god only knew what.

  She shrieked as it knocked her over again. He was glad his power came with a little more than a light show, but he couldn't enjoy the moment of pleasure. Hatchet Face swung again, putting a hole in the wall. Carol was going to be pissed... Gallant moved in as the monster tried to get his axe out, swinging hard enough that he felt the jawbone crunch as he made impa--

  “Behind you!”

  He dropped to the ground as Hatchet Face exploded in a cloud of ash and gore. Overhead, an axe blade whistled and struck the same hold that it had been stuck in a second ago. He ran forward and grunted as he hit something, then yelped as he narrowly avoided a blow from a third Hatchet Face by falling to the floor. Had Bonesaw been fucking cloning him?!

  The killer drew back his axe for a final blow, then vanished in a puff of gore and ash. A tremendous 'bang' drew his attention and his neck cracked as he whipped around to see. Hatchet Face had a hole in his stomach, and Mark had risen from the couch, his aura ablaze with the deep crimson of fury.

  He didn't say a word, just lobbed another one of his namesake orbs at Bonesaw. Gallant turned to face the other monster, the strange man-centaur thing. He raised his fists, then stumbled as something struck his back. Metal limbs scrabbled for purchase on his armour, and he reached back, grasping the thing. With a roar, he tore it off his back and smashed it against the floor. Like a spider with scalpels for legs.

  The creature didn't seem to be too smart, or too quick at least. It charged predictably enough for Gallant to get out of the way and land a blow on its upper head as it passed. More explosions filled the air behind him, and clouds of ash were growing thick. He saw a scalpel-spider leap at Amy, dashing forward and intercepting it a split-second before it could strike. He threw it to the ground and crushed it underfoot, then turned away from the healer.

  A blow from the centaur hit his helmet hard enough he saw stars. Despite that, Gallant managed to duck the next blow, then land a wicked uppercut on the upper head's jaw. Again he felt bones crush to dust, but the moment he pulled his hand away the damage was undone. He swore under his breath, a regenerator. That was a serious issue.

  Unlike many of his teammates, Gallant didn't have much offensive ability against stuff that didn't feel emotion. Judging by how the creations, even the creator, had shrugged off his power...yeah, it was safe to say it was ineffective. That left him his fists and armour, and even the enhanced strength it came with didn't add up to much in a fight like this.

  That didn't stop him from trying. Gallant alternated firing different emotional balls at the lower head and pounding any vital part within reach. Beyond stopping the creature from attacking, it didn't seem to be having much effect. The damage from each blow was fixed before the next could land, and the emotions didn't have the effect he wanted them to. Sweat stung his eyes, he was running out of options and running out of fight.

  An orb of light struck and burst against the centaur, knock Gallant back, then another hit and blasted the upper half of the creature apart. Mark roared and blasted the thing with explosive orbs, over and over, obliterating the wall and floor. Steam began pouring off its body as it turned more and more red, seeming to shrug off even the damage from Flashbang's attacks. Gallant's stomach began to sink as the fusillade slowed, then ended. Mark panted heavily, offering him an apologetic glance as the monstrous thing stalked up to them.

  Without warning, it reared back, then collapsed to the ground. Dead? He wasn't sure, but it didn't seem to be regenerating any more damage... The house fell silent, eerily so after the noise of battle. Gallant took a moment to catch his breath, still staring at the corpse in front of him, when a choked sob caught his ear.

  “Amy?” he called out, seeing a huddled mass beside the centaur-thing twitch. “Hey, are you okay?”

  “Gallant,” Mark snapped, drawing his gaze. The man looked haggard, but more determined than he'd ever seen. “Come on, we need to make sure she doesn't come back.” He nodded sharply and looked back at the healer.

  The vivid palette surrounding her head gave him pause. Oh god, how had he missed this? A monochrome of guilt crushed every other emotion beneath it. Grief, self-hatred, frustration, fear, it all was washed out by the sheer weight of it. Gallant couldn't understand it, she must have healed Mark, no other way he would have been able to help. Why then...

  “Amy?” He got another flinch. “Are you--”

  “Don't,” she snapped. “Don't touch me.”

  “Okay,” Gallant replied easily, seeing the intense fear of that idea fading beneath the guilt. “Staying right here. What did...what happened?”

  “Bonesaw,” Amy said bitterly, taking a shuddering breath. “And...and me.” Another breath, then almost on the verge of tears, she spoke again. “You should go help Dad.”

  “Right,” he said, nodding sharply. “Just...wait here, okay?”

  He didn't get a response, but Amy wasn't stupid, just distraught. That made sense, it had sounded like Bonesaw wanted to break her down, make Amy a monster just like she was. Anyone would have had a hard time with that. Was that how Lia felt?

  Gallant followed Flashbang out the front door, pausing as the man pulled out a cell phone. He punched a number in, probably for Vicky or Brandish, then made a gesture. Gallant nodded and headed around one side of the house while Flashbang headed the opposite way. The circled around to the back yard, then Flashbang gave him a nod, satisfied they were secure.

  “Out front,” he said. “Brandish and Glory Girl are on the way back, just a few minutes. Can you call the Protectorate, get some backup out here in case she comes back?”

  “Might be better if you all came down to the headquarters,” Gallant replied, glancing back at the house and grimacing. “I uh, don't know how livable it is.”

  “Good point,” Mark said with a hollow chuckle. “Yeah...this is why we have the 'no powers indoors' rule, you know?” Gallant swallowed and nodded. “What were you doing back here, I thought you were heading home?”

  “Forgot something,” he lied easily, looking to the skies and searching for any sign of the girl he loved. “Lucky thing too, I guess.”

  “Well, I appreciate the assist,” Mark said, clapping a hand on his pauldron. “Not sure how I'd have done without it.”

  “I'm sure you'd have been fine, sir.”

  “Oh don't call me 'sir', Gallant.” He smiled warmly and rested a hand on his shoulder. “'Mark' is fine, or you know, 'Mr. Dallon' when Carol's around.”

  They shared a chuckle, though it was emptier than the last, and the conversation fell silent. They waited on the front lawn, intermittently scanning the sky and the street for friend and foe alike. True to Mark's word, Glory Girl landed on the lawn shortly after they finished talking. She pulled a little orb from her bag, then tapped it. Brandish appeared, breathing heavily, and cast her gaze around the small group.

  “Well?” She demanded.

  “We drove off Bonesaw,” Mark replied quickly. “Two of her creations were destroyed, but she escaped with Hack Job, a fusion between Oni Lee and Hatchet Face.” That explained the teleporting and exploding at least.

  “What, how?” Victoria asked, eyes wide.

  “Tinkers,” he replied simply. “Amy's inside now. We should--”

  “We should go inside,” Brandish snapped.

  He sighed and nodded, then turned back, Brandish following. Victoria floated over and gave him a brief hug before joining her parents. Gallant followed, with little else to do. He wanted to check on Amy anyway, make sure she was okay after--

  “Amy!” He heard a yell from inside the house, then pounding feet running upstairs. He and Vicky shared a look, then charged up the steps.

  “Mom?” Vicky asked when they found her standing outside Amy's room, hands shaking, aura a deeper crimson than Mark's had been earlier.

  “Gallant, call the Protectorate,” Brandish demanded, whirling on him. “Amy's gone.”