I slowly limped up the road, doing my best to ignore the broken buildings looming around me, and the sounds of battle that seemed to only be getting louder. Amy trailed just behind me, silent since she'd fixed her fuck up and left me to make sure her sister didn't paste her the second she woke up. When I'd come to collect her, she had just fallen in behind me. What a fucking mess. A mess that I had to handle because no one else could, or would.

  A series of tremendous explosion shook the ground, and looking up I saw the bomber had returned. Well, I could barely see the thing. Black as night, with the scant moon and firelight seeming to slide off of it. Maybe it was because I really couldn't catch a full silhouette, but the plane didn't seem to be...normal looking, whatever the fuck that meant. Lumpy and smooth shapes, sort of like the bugs Amy had been making.

  Two bombing runs, and I didn't even know what they'd dropped this time. For all I knew, Piggot was a maniac and had decided a low-yield nuke was the most viable way to kill the Nine. Not that I disagreed necessarily, but deploying something like that inside a city... The world had fucking gone more insane than me when I wasn't looking.

  A squeak behind me made me turn my head. Amy's mouth was partly open and she was staring at me silently. I cocked my head, had she wanted to talk and couldn't? Had she just felt the need to make a weird, vaguely cute noise? Was the Siberian behind me? I whirled and looked and-- no, okay, no naked woman coming for my few remaining fingertips.

  “Where are we going?” I turned back to look at Amy.

  “Good question,” I replied, my eyes roaming the fires gradually guttering themselves out, to the bizarre glacier that had sprung up in the wake of the second bombing. All downhill from us. “As far away from that as we can get.” Amy shivered and nodded.

  We kept going, heading uphill. There were a few reasons I wanted to go this way, first was what I told Amy, to get the fuck away from the hellscape below. Second, it was away from the fighting that I could see, flashes of lasers, random detonations, all of it. Finally, I actually knew these neighbourhoods; it was near my house.

  My house...that wasn't a bad idea actually. The Protectorate would be the only people even thinking to look there, and judging by the mother-laser-fucking-lightshow out there they were a little busy to look for us at all. I knew its layout, I knew it was intact, and importantly I knew where it was. With a sigh, I took a sharp left, wincing at the pain from my ankle.

  Really I should have got that checked out when we had the chance, but what the fuck was I supposed to do about it? The Undersiders wouldn't be carrying braces and crutches that I could use, and Amy...nah. God, hopefully Scapegoat would get his ass here soon, I wasn't going to be happy if I got benched for being injured because I couldn't trust the best healer on the planet to not turn me into Lia soup.

  Maybe I could soon, at least. I had to focus on the fact that, despite everything, this had been a total victory. Well, 'total' was a bit generous, but I could afford to be generous dammit! Victoria had been fixed, Amy wasn't on her way to the Birdcage, and I...had seven intact fingers. Sevens were supposed to be lucky, right?

  Well, they had been back when I was getting pummeled by Leviathan every few days. I had given up and that had been my success, back then. A weird, shitty start to a life of trying to be a hero, in retrospect, but it had worked. Hell, I'd arguably been more successful on that attempt than any other...bar that time I teamed up with Ballistic and Flechette. Damn, what could have been with a slightly better shot...

  No use worrying about that now, no matter how cool it would have been to take out an Endbringer. I'd settle for the good I did manage there, and saving Gallant was probably one of the unequivocally good things I'd done. He didn't deserve the grief I gave him, but at least he was alive to experience it. He was probably going to hate me too, once this was done.

  As for the Wards...I didn't have a sweet clue what they'd think. It didn't matter that much, beyond making my life difficult if they decided I was a lost cause or something. Oh fuck I could never wear short sleeves again, not there. Made a speech and everything asking them to look past the Nazi shit, then showing up with an armful of hate-filled ink, that would be a great look.

  I couldn't ask Amy to heal them, not just because of the obvious issues she had, but because I didn't deserve it. I told her, sometimes you just have to make the least shitty decision and eat the consequences. The worst part of it was that Mannequin never came back to collect on his bullshit; it was a wasted choice. I hoped the bastard cooked in that fucking inferno.

  Who was left of the Nine, actually? Jack, Bonesaw, the Siberian, one-hundred percent they lived. Well, at least two of the three but it made sense she was protecting them, and herself probably. Burnscar was a maybe, she was fireproof after all so the bombing would just make her stronger. The Protectorate had to know that, did that mean she had died before they planned this?

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  Crawler and Mannequin could be alive too. The former had definitely survived the first bombing, and probably the second considering he was basically invincible. Skitter said she hadn't found Mannequin, which didn't mean much in the grand scheme. I just had to hope that he was busy with the heroes, if he'd survived at all.

  Shatterbird had been accounted for by the Undersiders. Next time I saw her, I was putting a bullet in her head. Partly as a mercy, partly because it was fucking Shatterbird, and partly to deny the enemy. That left Cherish, and I had zero clues on that one. She was either with the Nine or at the bottom of the bay, a problem or never one again. I didn't get a say in it either way, much to my chagrin.

  So between three and five left, pretty significant casualties for a group like them. I had to hope that they could finish off a couple more, maybe weaken them enough to totally collapse. A pipe dream, if Jack and Bonesaw lived, then we were fucked. Yet another thing I simply couldn't do a thing about, not in the state I was in.

  A sigh escaped my lips as my familiar home came into view. I walked around the back and retrieved the spare key from under the edelweiss plant and...fuck you Mom. I tossed the planter to the side, smirking as it shattered. Amy muttered something under her breath, but I ignored it as I unlocked the door and pushed my way inside.

  It smelled...off. That made sense, there was a bunch of water in the basement and it had been cooking for a month. Still, it wasn't choking me with mold spores, so I figured it was safe enough and gestured for Amy to come inside. I drew my pistol, ignoring the sharp gasp behind me, and quietly crept through the house.

  The back door had been locked, but that didn't mean much considering several of the windows had been shattered. I swept through quickly, kitchen, bathroom, living room, Mom's room. Then it was downstairs, living room, furnace room, bathroom...my room. It actually wasn't that bad, somehow we'd managed to avoid looters. I left it behind quickly though, too many memories...

  “Okay,” I said as I returned upstairs, sticking the gun in my belt again. “We're clear. Uh, welcome to my place, make yourself at home?” Amy glanced around the kitchen, where we'd come in.

  “This is...your house?” She asked, a weird tone in her voice. Judgy? I was too tired to tell.

  “Was, I guess,” I replied. “Dunno what's going to happen to it now, but I guess I'll ask the PRT when I get back. Who knows, maybe it'll actually be mine one day.” She gave me an odd look.

  “Why do you--”

  “My mom died,” I replied with a shrug. “Didn't I tell you that? Whatever, it's fine, not a problem for today.” Or ever, ideally. “Anyway, food's probably all rotten now, but feel free to look through the cupboards for something. I know you said you needed to eat, I probably do too.” I still didn't feel hungry.

  “Uh, sure.” Amy looked around, seemingly lost. “Are you...okay?”

  “No,” I breathed. “I'm gonna go sit down.”

  I left her in the kitchen and headed into the living room, flopping down on the big couch in front of the TV. Huh, I'd watched Star Wars on this a while ago, hadn't I? I snorted as Jar-Jar's evil laughter echoed through my head as I remembered. Good times...better times anyway. I sighed and shut my eyes, resting my head on a throw pillow.

  God, it felt like heaven after days on the run. There wasn't a single part of my body that wasn't in agony. My fingers burned, my ankle throbbed, and every muscle stung me in some way. Besides my fingers and ankle, I'd managed to avoid a single wound, and still wound up in shit-shape. I'd live though, and for the first time in a while I desperately wanted to. The worst was over now, all I had to do now was wait for the heroes to chase off the bad guys. I took a deep breath and slowly let it out, a smile creeping onto my face.

  “Lia?” A worried voice called to me. “Lia, are you okay?” I frowned and opened my eyes, seeing red.

  I bolted upright and scrambled off the couch, falling and yelping as my ankle bounced off the coffee table. I got to my feet and looked around, gripping my pistol but not drawing it. The living room was tinged in red, a thick fog that obscured most of the room. I crept forward slowly, heart pounding, towards the person in my kitchen.

  “Oh thank god.” A girl, maybe my age, lots of freckles. She was dirty, like she hadn't washed in a week, and it was obvious she'd been crying. “Lia what the fuck is going on?”

  “Who the fuck are you?” I demanded. I didn't draw my pistol, she was just a kid...but the Nine had a kid too, didn't they? “Why are you in my house?”

  “What?” She sounded shocked. “Lia it's me, Amy Dallon, Panacea.” Amy Dallon, I knew that name, knew her. She was important, I'd run from the Siberian with her. But...what did she look like.

  “No you're not,” I snapped. Why the fuck couldn't I remember her? “Get out of my house.”

  “Lia--”

  “Get out!” I screamed, panting for breath. My heart was racing, my gun in hand, not aimed...not quite. The intruder raised her hands, then took a deep breath.

  “Lia, it's just me,” the stranger said softly, taking a step forward. “Amy Dallon, Panacea. You...you helped me, remember?” I had helped Amy Dallon, but this wasn't her. “I think this mist is getting to you, can you give me your hand? Let me check it out?” She reached out her hand and I raised my pistol. My hand was shaking violently, but I couldn't miss this close.

  “Stay back.” My voice shook more than my hand, and I nearly dropped my gun as a sharp pain lanced through my chest. The Nine had a kid with them, a kid that worked on people. This...this could be her, couldn't it? “Don't fucking touch me!” The girl flinched.

  “It's okay,” she said after a moment, taking another step forward. “It's okay Lia, really, I'm not going to hurt you, I won't even do anything but look unless you give the okay. Just...please, Lia.”

  I couldn't breath, my throat was closing on me. I retched, feeling sick to my stomach. Had to be this girl, had to be some kind of cape fucking with me. Had this happened before? I couldn't remember. My gun fell from my hand and I turned to run, twisting my ankle and falling with a shriek of pain. I scrambled back as the girl approached, bile rising in my throat, chest singing in agony. I gasped desperately for breath. I couldn't breathe, I couldn