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She is (probably rightly) confident that the empire will just spring immediately and with no difficulty.

Which is more a less spot on?

Though Coils plan for taking advantage of the chaos remains to be seen, as well as how other factors might impact her fate here.

I dont see her leaving Brockton however.
If this is following stations of canon, then is this the part where she kills Alexandria?
My spacebux say it's the part where she's held for a little while and then released for an Endbringer fight.

TBH I'm kind of rooting for it, because an Endbringer fight will present Taylor with a dreadful temptation. The lives of everyone she cares about will be at risk. Taylor will be forced to considered a shall we say 'controlled release' of information regarding her powers, vis-a-vis combat with Leviathan.

She knows she has to hide her power-copying as long as possible, because reasons. Some of those reasons are mixed up in Taylor's intimacies and they would be threatened.
 
Wholesome is a weird word to describe "Genuinely believes and is dedicated soul-deep to the fourteen words".

Also yes Taylor is wanted for the vigilantism-labeled-hate-crime, but let's not forget breaking Alabaster out of a Birdcage transport. Including destroying Clock's cock. And now we have accessory to murder of PRT agents with fighting back against the CPS/state kidnappers.

Don't forget she had Bubble's mark the Armscycle.
 
This is it. This arc is gonna show whether E88 loyalty/affiliation means something or nothing to the not!Exalted


oh but who am I kidding, burnt bridges are practically her MO by now

Is it? We'll see. I'm more of the side that she she only had a small amount of loyalty at best (maybe with the mooks she interacts with) and to her it was more of a faction grind/unlock to get gear/items(powers) (literally) she's been grinding and grinding, logging in at all hours and using multiple computers and accounts to get those rep points and talk to those quest givers and here we have some noobs and Leeroys coming in to ruin it all for her. At this moment she saw the "Purity escort/Save my children" questline pop up, but she may shortly be losing permanent access to this faction its various questlines/npcs and will no longer be able to 100% that achievement tab.

It's really pretty funny, she is/is trying to play like a gamer fic but doesn't have the HUD/quest/objective tracker, but for all intents and purposes is doing it.
 
I doubt Taylor's multiple identities scheme will survive the cracks created by her being outed. Emma will certainly notice something is wrong with Shadow Stalker hanging out with Low Key. Maybe the Empire will notice something is off about Taylor's various excuses, like with her supposed family vacation.
 
I'm surprised Danny doesn't have stronger feelings on his daughter joining a gang of neonazis
The guy shacked up with a woman who ran with people who were cutting off guy's dicks for sick pleasure. As far as he's concerned, that's just more evidence Taylor takes after her.
 
I've been thinking about the Simurgh's role for a while now…and I've concluded that she hasn't brainwashed Taylor. She might have used her precog abilities to predict that no matter what happens Taylor will most definitely cause chaos and conflict wherever she goes, so she can do whatever she wants. The whole scaring Taylor by using the word 'tailor' in that Traveller guy's head was probably to pressure Taylor to get more power fast.

Admittedly, I don't think the Simurgh will have a perfect prediction, or whatever she has predicted could change if she gets an anti thinker power later.

But if the Simurgh has seen Taylor's entire past then it doesn't take a genius to know that she will fuck shit up…
 
Yo are we just assuming she'll be caught? She still has the knife to break out of containment foam. She can also blind Gallant and use Bloodless murk or whatever and escape from a small hole.
The longer Low Key spends in the process of being caught, the longer the Heros and Mooks arresting and detaining her are distracted from the rest of the Empire. This gives Purity and her children more time to go to ground and fulfill that juicy soul price for rescuing those children.
With Purity staying near Imp and her devious evil genius machinations, Bump In The Night might just be getting a new member to check a diversity box to become eligible for municipal funding. So-white-she-glows single mom demographic aquired, so it's not just ashen skinned individuals anymore.
Regent doesn't count because he's a clown, not truly white.

Though living with Imp will probably end up with Purity and her kids getting used to being around dark skinned people; since despite her hanging around acting the maid to the housebound milf, they'll keep forgetting that they interacted with her.
I do expect Purity to be just as blatantly offensive in her tolerance though, more from being near Aisha than from her habits from hanging with the Empire. That girl is just the sort to deliberately teach Purity wrong as a joke.
 
The longer Low Key spends in the process of being caught, the longer the Heros and Mooks arresting and detaining her are distracted from the rest of the Empire. This gives Purity and her children more time to go to ground and fulfill that juicy soul price for rescuing those children.
With Purity staying near Imp and her devious evil genius machinations, Bump In The Night might just be getting a new member to check a diversity box to become eligible for municipal funding. So-white-she-glows single mom demographic aquired, so it's not just ashen skinned individuals anymore.
Regent doesn't count because he's a clown, not truly white.

Though living with Imp will probably end up with Purity and her kids getting used to being around dark skinned people; since despite her hanging around acting the maid to the housebound milf, they'll keep forgetting that they interacted with her.
I do expect Purity to be just as blatantly offensive in her tolerance though, more from being near Aisha than from her habits from hanging with the Empire. That girl is just the sort to deliberately teach Purity wrong as a joke.

Ye I was being stupid when I wrote that. Wasn't thinking about the big picture. Although I don't know if Purity willl actually get used to black people by joining BITN, considering…there's literally a black slave tied up in their basement.
 
Just realized another benefit to being arrested: she can't take part in no holds barred fighting against law enforcement (while constrained to only using Fenrir) if she's in jail! So while Brockton is imploding outside she can just chill in a cell for a while.
 
Didn't Arcadia have a Faraday cage? Did it get wrecked?
Excellent point about the faraday-cage. The cage should block 'all' outside signal.

But....
The wards CAN be contacted by the PRT when they are at Arcadia. We have precedent for that. There is therefore a wifi or similar network installed WITHIN the cage.
This network is definitely supervised and locked. But... for maintenance reasons unlikely to be tinkertech. Even then, 'forge wisdom' and Lisa can hack stuff that's only password protected and maybe needs an additional mobile phone dongle. After all, the wards, the protectorate and likely some PRT handlers will have access to this network.
It's totally within Taylors and Lisas means to gain access.
Taylor would also definitely put work into gaining access to this network. She spent after all a long time within, with only limited parahumans in sight to ogle.

I agree, that from a story point of view this is a hole that still requires plugging. A throwaway line in an earlier chapter and one more here would suffice.
 
Rule 1 warning. This is not an insult we can just let fly when meant seriously.
Tell you what, this is what you get for go gallivanting around with Nazis. Even Joker knew better, and you don't. And OP, are you sure you aren't a Nazi?
 
L.47
Rather than dissolve the foam and arrest you on the spot, they detach the whole lump from the ground and load it into a van. You suppose you should be flattered that they consider you so dangerous, but mostly you're happy that you're not prone to motion sickness. You can breathe just fine through regular containment foam, but you wouldn't want to experiment with a puke-suffused variant.

From the way the traffic noise drops off long before you stop, you conclude that they're taking you across the forcefield bridge to the Rig. Looks like you get to see the less touristy parts this time around. When everything comes to a stop and they finally do dissolve the foam, you find yourself alone in a tiny room.

"Please undress completely," a voice says from a speaker near the ceiling. Right. Of course they're going to steal all your stuff. With any luck, remaking your stupid complicated chestpiece will be the largest time loss resulting from this bullshit. No, what are you thinking, you're rich now. You can pay some chump to do it for you.

Once you're naked there's a mandatory shower, followed by a brief but unpleasant interlude featuring a female PRT officer and two sets of disposable latex gloves. Satisfied that you're free of contraband, they give you ill-fitting underwear and a festive orange jumpsuit (and socks, but no shoes) before they go on to draw blood and take fingerprints.

They say no plan survives contact with the enemy. You were planning on breaking out pretty much immediately, but then they stuck you in an interrogation room with Miss Militia. Miss Militia, whose power is always active.

Never let it be said that you cannot improvise.

---

"You're telling me that no further arrests have been made?" Director Piggot is saying from the teleconference screen. She does not look happy - she never looks happy, but even less so since being shot by Shadow Stalker. Scuttlebutt has it that the Chief Director herself called the hospital and forced her to accept Panacea's healing so she could get back on duty to handle the current crisis.

"They do outnumber us," Colin points out. "And the leaks did not affect their morale as much as we hoped. If anything, the Aster Anders affair has left them more determined than before. We're taking casualties in almost every engagement, which seriously limits how hard we can push without committing Panacea to the field."

"That is not a risk I am willing to take, even if Brandish would consent to it - which she will not."

"As you say, director."

"Now, as for the Aster Anders affair, our faint silver lining. Miss Militia."

"Ma'am." I straighten up at her harsh tone.

"You spent all day with Low Key, when we very badly needed you out in the field. Report."

I lick my lips, considering how to put things. "Low Key - Taylor - is an emotional wreck," I say, trying to maintain an even tone. "She spent most of the time crying. When her father arrived, she hid her face and refused to speak with him at all."

"What of her mother?" Piggot asks.

"Dead, as of a few years ago. When-" I have to stop and swallow before I can continue. "When I tried to leave, she cried out 'don't leave me again, mom!'" My weapon appears in my hand, taking on the comfortable bulk of a high-caliber pistol as I think back to the despair with which she clung to my arm. But there is nothing to shoot, no tangible enemy. With an effort of will, I send it back to my hip.

"That's a good sign," Colin says calmly.

"What!?"

"Excuse me?"

He looks at us as if we're stupid, then gestures towards me. "That she is able to view someone of your ethnicity as a maternal figure indicates that she does not have strong ideological ties to the E88. It increases the odds of us recruiting her into the Wards - where, I'll remind you, she'll be expected to serve under Aegis."

"That is your recommendation, then?" Piggot asks.

"Yes. Anything we can do to mitigate the manpower disparity would be very welcome. And in her case it would be a two for one deal."

"I agree," I say firmly. "I want her in the Wards, if only to get her a psychologist."

"Hm. I'll send some Wards over after school tomorrow to assist in recruitment, then. According to her file Vista has had friendly contact with her before. Who else?"

"Apparently she and Clockblocker have a... friendly online rivalry?" I shrug. "I suspect I'm too old to understand the fine details, but that's what I've heard."

It was exhausting, but you're a tiny bit proud of your performance back there. Just a tiny bit. Cape brains or no, it's not as if 'childless woman in her thirties' is a hard target to hit. But god damn did you hit it masterfully or what? Good thing she has that going for her too, because her soul price is worthless.

Miss Militia wants to take in your tired, your poor, your huddled masses, and to share with them the same chance she was given.

Ah yes, America. Land of opportunity, nation of immigrants! When she wraps herself in the flag, it's not just literal. It's not that you don't get where's she's coming from - escaping whatever war-torn shithole spawned her clearly left a deep impression. But as your informal history lessons with the rank and file have made clear, the America she believes in is all madey-uppy.

The actual America was always very selective about who it let through those sea-washed, sunset gates... right up until the nineteen-sixties, when immigration reform was foisted upon an unwilling populace through base trickery (you are entirely prepared to believe the trickery part, given how racist everyone agrees the sixties to have been), by a cabal of nefarious jews seeking to enact white genocide (you're still somewhat dubious about that part).

But never mind all that, you have work to do. As soon you realized you were going to the Rig - before they even let you out of the foam - you instructed the nervously hovering Fenrir to scout the place out and provide you with maps.

He was only too happy to keep busy - seeing you crying your eyes out when he came back to report in partway through out made him very agitated, even though you reassured him that it was all an act ("I'm not crying, everything is fine, this isn't really happening" - Miss Militia took your words rather differently).

When they finally deposit you in a cell, he proudly drops an immaterial notebook full of floor plans on the bunk. The cell, you note with some amusement, was originally large enough to fit a monster wolf, but someone hastily welded up a bunch of steel bars haphazardly crisscrossing the space. More than anything, it looks like the world's least ergonomic jungle gym.

Have you mentioned how much you love tinkers, by the way? The camera in your cell is tinkertech - you don't know if every cell sports one of those, or if Armsmaster is giving you special treatment after what you did to his bike, but it certainly helps! It's well hidden by mortal standards (which is why you take care not to look at it directly) but sorcerer's sight lets you know its exact position, orientation and capabilities - and by extension just how to sit to hide a mind-hand paging through an invisible notebook.

Fenrir isn't exactly the best draughtsman (it's that lack of hands again), and the whole thing is damp with wolf slobber, but it's decipherable enough when he's not trying to copy down text. You don't judge, because you doubt you'd do much better if you had to hold the pen in your mouth. In addition to doors and windows and such, all tinkertech is also marked - but not labelled. Fenrir can spot tinkertech as easily as you can, but he doesn't have the technical chops to tell anything beyond 'magic item, yes or no'.

Not that there is very much tinkertech throughout the base - Tinker tech requires Tinker maintenance, and Armsmaster has better things to do than play janitor all day. You're able to plot out a prospective escape route that avoids almost all of it.

Since you have plenty of time (Miss Militia appears to have 2 kW worth of power, which means you'll need to stick around for another full day of 'interrogation') you send him off to find the immaterial cellphone holder you made way back when. He can photograph the entire route, and you'll review it again to make sure it's good.

The funny thing is, you'd be worse off if they'd just tossed you in the drunk tank at the local PD - and not just because of the privacy the single-occupancy cell affords you. See, regular jails are designed from the ground up to be secure - usually in a basement, with a single, guarded exit. Not so here. It's not even because the government secretly wants villains to escape, you don't think - they generally prefer for escape attempts to happen during transport between facilities, where collateral damage happens to other people's property.

It's just that this is an old oil rig that was converted into a headquarters as a big PR stunt, and whichever glamorously overpaid architect they hired for the job treated 'holding facilities go here' with the same nonchalance as 'conference rooms go here'. You're not really escaping from jail so much as you're escaping from an office building that happens to have cops working there.

To his credit, Armsmaster is clearly aware of the architectural shortcomings: The one piece of tinkertech you won't be able to avoid is hidden in the ceiling of the corridor outside - you spotted it when they put you in here. But as long as you know exactly where it is, and what it does...

With nothing else to do for the time being, you cry yourself to sleep. There is a camera in your room, after all.

---

There is, of course, one problem with copying Miss Militia's power while in custody: Her power isn't just the ability to be armed at all times, but also the necessity. The specific weapon may change (usually a small knife while she's with you, because she's trying to appear non-threatening, but her control isn't perfect), but she is never not armed. You don't mind picking up another permanent power, it's just that things are likely to get uncomfortably hectic if you were to suddenly pull a gun right now.

You did memorize a secondary escape route leading from this room, but you'd still like to avoid having to fight Miss Militia if at all possible. So you try your best to direct your hypothetical subconscious influence over the expression of copied powers towards less exciting results. It mostly involves hoping really hard, because you still don't really have any idea what you're doing or how. But if at all possible you'd like a less exact copy this time around, please and thank you.

When you feel her power slip into place you tense up and furiously repeat to yourself don't be armed, don't be armed, I don't want to be armed. It... works. No weapon appears in your hand. Or maybe nothing you did made any difference, you'd never have gotten an exact copy regardless, and you got worked up over nothing at all. You slump forwards and rest your head on the table. You'll figure out what it does later.

"Can I go home now?" you ask in a small voice.

Miss Militia looks stricken. "Taylor, you know you can't..."

"Can I go back to my cell?" you clarify. "I want to rest."

"I... I can take you back there, yes. But there are some people people coming soon who will want to talk to you. Do you think you'll be up for that?"

"Okay."

---

"Another day spent consoling the little nazi?" Piggot asks. She's here in person this time, having arrived together with Vista and Clockblocker. The Wards are waiting outside while the three of us hold a quick sitrep meeting.

"I will do full shifts in the field again tonight to make up for it. It's not as if I need to sleep, and I did not want to leave her alone for too long."

"I read Vista's report on their interactions. She described her attitude as 'calm hiding simmering anger', and also mentioned her sense of humor. This is not how I expected her interrogation to go. Do we have any idea what's going on here?"

"Not really," I admit. "She's less... helplessly distraught than yesterday, but she still mostly refuses to talk."

"I do have an idea," Colin says. "Her bloodwork came back."

I do not like the look on his face. "Drugs?"

"No. Remember the case that was referred to us last week for possible parahuman involvement? The three dead bodies found in former ABB territory?"

"Oh no," I breathe.

"Her DNA is a match," he confirms grimly.

Piggot swears under her breath. "Looks like you were right to treat this one with kid gloves. What-"

She's interrupted by the intercom blaring to life. "Sir! Director! Low Key has escaped her cell! She's headed for the stairs!"

"Send a team to intercept." "Retract the bridge." "Secure the boats." "Force field to full power." For all that they have their occasional disputes over jurisdiction and procedure, when faced with a crisis Piggot and Armsmaster act in perfect lockstep, taking control of the situation without hesitation.

"How did she escape?" I ask.

With a gesture, Colin brings up a camera feed on the wall screen. It shows Low Key in her cell. She's standing with her her forehead resting against the door, her back to the camera. I glance at the corner to check the timestamp, but look back up at a sudden motion: The entire door falls out of its frame, landing in the corridor outside with a thud. Low Key stumbles and almost falls, but catches herself. She appears briefly startled when she looks up, but she doesn't immediately run off. After a moment, she nods.

"Thank you," she says. She shuffles sideways through the doorway, as if avoiding something that doesn't show up on the camera.

"Stranger protocols!" Piggot shouts. "Emily Piggot, passcode Umbra-7."

"Uh, Trooper Johnson, passcode Benedict-45," the voice from the intercom responds. Colin and I voice our passcodes in turn. Low Key has left by the time we finish, leaving the feed showing nothing but an empty cell. Was she unzipping her jumpsuit as she left? Why?

Another gesture from Colin, and the view switches to a camera outside the cell. A foam turret is deploying from the ceiling as Low Key runs down the corridor. It doesn't look like she's going to make it, but just as it's about to fire on her she dives forward, literally jumping out of her clothes. She scrambles away while the turret covers the bright orange jumpsuit in foam. I shake my head in grudging admiration, while Colin mutters something about targeting algorithms. She's past the turret and into the stairwell before it can reorient on her.

Meanwhile, the director has moved to the window. "I want eyeballs on all approaches. North quadrant, clear."

"There's nothing on the radar, ma'am," Johnson says.

"Eyeballs!" Piggot repeats. "We're dealing with a Stranger effect that defeated our cameras."

"Yes ma'am. Uh, eastern quadrant clear."

"Trooper Wilford, passcode Truncheon-22," another voice cuts in. "Low Key spotted in sector 7-C!"

"She's heading upstairs?" Colin asks.

"Lock down the helicopter!" Piggot snaps instantly. "Where are my eyeballs for south and west quadrants? Do we we have incoming?"

"Negative, ma'am. All quadrants clear."

"Where is the rest of the rescue?" Piggot wonders aloud. "Send a squad to protect the generator. The Stranger might- but then why not do that first..?"

"Releasing the prisoner could just be a distraction," Armsmaster says. "Whoever's left, secure the server room! I will not have another Shadow Stalker situation."

"Director..." I say hesitantly. "If it's not a rescue, she might be intending to jump."

Piggot swears again. "You! Get up there and try to talk her down. Armsmaster, take the Wards below and set something up to catch her. Vista should-"

"Ma'am!" Johnson's voice comes through the intercom. "The camera in Grue's cell just went down!"

"Go," Piggot says, shooing us towards the door. "I'll deal with this."

You regretfully trail a hand against the fuselage of the helicopter as you dash past it towards the edge of the roof. In a perfect world they would have been overconfident enough to leave the forcefield down. It doesn't matter, industry and forge wisdom whispers in your ear. The helicopter has remote shutdown functionality, which has been triggered. It's not going anywhere without three hours of maintenance. Or ten minutes should you break out the paper strips, but you have neither paper nor minutes right now.

But the question was never whether you could escape, only how many trump cards you would need to play to do so. It would have been nice if you could get away with only revealing yourself as the best fifteen year old helicopter pilot in town, but there's no use crying over spilt milk. You should still be able to keep this escape... plausibly low key.

Well, Low Key plus mysterious rescuer. You'll have to think up a cape name for the kind Stranger who disassembled your cell door. Fiddle, perhaps. As in 'played like a-'. The Master/Stranger protocols are there for good reasons, but the paranoid mindset leaves heroes susceptible to jumping towards certain conclusions when inexplicable things happen.

Or maybe that's harsh. 'The imprisoned Master is secretly also a Shaker who can disassemble objects with a touch' is pretty far-fetched. Credit where it's due, too. The lock may not have been tinkertech, but it couldn't have been cheap either. You have to completely understand something to unmake it, and it took you several tries to fit all the moving parts into your brain at once. But that only made your charade stronger, as you were genuinely startled when it finally ended up working.

Ultimately, they caught you too late. After months of continuous effort, you have finally leveraged your Trump ability into becoming a force to be reckoned with. And you're about to prove it to them... by leaving them thinking that you're a perfectly ordinary cape.

"Taylor!" Miss Militia comes sprinting onto the roof, but in this she is also too late. "Don't-" You leap off the edge before she can back the sentiment up with containment foam.

Fenrir launches himself after you and, without air resistance, quickly catches up and passes through you. He materializes between your legs, and you activate a power you've never used in public before, but is a perfect fit for Low Key: Sometimes wolves fly, and now would be an excellent time.

"No!" Clockblocker shouts. "She can't do that! That's bullshit!"

"So that's why she wasn't worried about being abandoned on top of a building," I murmur to myself as I stare up at her. The spike of terror I felt on seeing her fall has given way to a kind of quiet awe. I really wish we could have been on the same team.

It's an odd form of flight. Fenrir's legs are moving as he pulls out of the dive, looking for all the world like he's running down an incline and onto level ground. Maybe he is, an invisible forcefield of some sort? All I can tell is that space is not being warped.

Maybe she's just showing off. If she wasn't showing off, wouldn't she have mounted up before jumping off the roof? She doesn't appear to have gained any speed from the maneuver, she's approaching the forcefield at - as best as I can judge it - Fenrir's normal running pace. How is she-

From one moment to the next, it's as if a second sun had appeared in the sky. As I move to shield my eyes there is a terrible screeching whine, followed the sound of explosions coming from within the Rig.

The light vanishes as quickly as it appeared. Blinking, I can just about make out Low Key past the the bright glowing blotches covering my field of vision. She's on the other side of the force field.

"Capacitor bank C offline," Armsmaster is saying. "Forcefield at 77%. Breach lasted 0.912 seconds."

"What was that?" I ask.

"Orichalcum," Armsmaster says. "I recognize the emission spectrum."

"None of those words mean anything to me," Clockblocker says, and I silently agree.

"A knife," Armsmaster says. "She cut through the forcefield with a tinkertech knife."

"Where would she get a knife?" I demand. "She was in jail!"

"I dunno, did you check her secret ninja compartment?" Clockblocker says.

"Her-" It takes me a moment to understand what he's saying. When I do, I make sure to punch him in the arm as hard as I can. "Ewwww. Clock, that's-"

"Yes," Armsmaster says in a voice entirely bereft of humor. "We did."

"Oh." I stare at the receding form of Low Key. "If you take down the forcefield I could still reach her with my power."

"We can't do that," Armsmaster says. "There are other infiltrators in the base."

Soon enough she leaves my range, but there is definitely something weird with her flight: It slows down drastically whenever she tries to gain altitude. But it never stalls out, either. It's as if she has two speeds, one for going straight and one for going up.

"Why is she bothering to go higher if it slows her down so much?" I muse.

"She is ensuring that shooting down the wolf will result in her falling to her death, thus tying our hands," Armsmaster says. "Typical villain trick. It will not serve her. Dauntless is currently engaged with Hookwolf, but Aegis is moving to intercept."

"Her wolf can't fly," Clockblocker insists sullenly. "There's no way. No one sandbags that hard. I cornered her, and she didn't fly away. She engaged in hand-to-hand combat with me rather than fly away. Me! Clockblocker!"

"She won," Armsmaster notes.

"There was a really embarrassing internet video that wouldn't have happened if the wolf could fly?" Clockblocker tries.

"There's Aegis," I say, pointing towards the little rust-red speck approaching the slightly larger grey speck of Fenrir.

As they meet, there's another flash of light.
 
Flying wolf plus tinker knife escape is glorious crack.

This is such a good fic, the plebs on SB don't know what they're missing out on!

To be fair, of the 3 story/forum sites I know SB is the most… let's say anal, about things.

Combine with the fact that the narration talks about the logic of Neo-Nazis, and the MC is playing up/becoming more of a racist, it's not hard to see why this story wouldn't be very popular there.

Not saying that this isn't a bad story, if anything I think it's very good. I have become invested in seeing Taylor's progression/regression as a person.

Considering the fact that I'm black, I ironically don't even mind the "let's follow the logic of the racists/Nazis" part, I just think that having someone that can show the systemic racism and other parts poor and minority communities got screwed over could be useful as contrast.

And it could just be me guessing but I think we're going to get that within a few chapters. Taylor's identity is out, which means soon she's going to have to make some hard choices about loyalty. Especially considering the upcoming Endbringer attack.
 
This is such a good fic, the plebs on SB don't know what they're missing out on!

There is unfortunately a certain mindset that simply cannot handle complexity, cannot bear to see actual shades of grey in the world. They live in a black and white existence and must patrol always the hallways of the mind with a large flashlight to ensure no darkness escapes. They cannot abide a tale such as this where the author writes and they must patiently wait for the story to explain itself in the text.

There are even some such here but despite their constant whining they have yet to force this story to be removed or to so completely demoralize the author that they sap his ability to continue to give us gems like the one we just read.

Thank you for this chapter. It was well worth the wait! I look forward to seeing the resultant fallout these changes have now wrecked on the universe in general an how this will all play into the inevitable arrival of Leviathan. Or has that too shifted due to the interference of Low Key on the Purity event?

No don't waste either of our time by telling us in the thread, just make with the next chapter as you are able. :)
 
Holy hells this chapter was great. Didn't expect her to escape from the PRT literally next chapter but man was this an amazing escape sequence. I especially love how she tricked them into thinking a Stranger helped her escape when she has an actual Stranger working for her they don't know about.

Two last thoughts, first I'm wondering if Grue escaping was the Undersider's breaking into the Rig to rescue him and Taylor and now Lisa's annoyed Taylor escaped on her own mid rescue attempt.

Second the Aegis fight should be interesting, given Taylor has his power plus more he was pretty much doomed from the start.
 

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