-----Taylor Hebert/Skitter-----

-----Streets of Brockton Bay, CT-----

-----04/11/2011-----

HOW?! HOW DOES SHE KNOW?! WHO THE HELL IS SHE?!?!?!

That's the summary of my thought process as this "Morgan Yu" introduces herself to me, having made it quite clear that she knows exactly who I am, and seems to know something about my situation.

Shoving my panic into my swarm with all of my might, I try to approach the situation from a cool headed, logical perspective.

Suddenly Morgan speaks up. "You know, Armsmaster would be impressed with your capabilities to quite literally shove your emotions out of the way when you need to think rationally."

"And how would you know that?"

Morgan gives me an evil smirk. "{Oh gee. Good question.}"

The fact that she clearly had her mouth closed tells me that I wasn't imagining things. She's able to telepathically speak to people. Can she read minds?!

"{With contemptuous ease. Unlike Tattletale, I'm the genuine article.}"

Oh fuck. This is bad. This is really bad.

"{Only if you insist on being uncivil.}"

"Could you stop doing that?!" I shout at her.

She shrugs her shoulders and thankfully goes back to actually talking. "Need a lift home?" Then a car pulls up being driven by one of those humanoid shadow creatures.

"They're not called 'humanoid shadow creatures'. Their proper name is Typhon anthrophantasmus, or Phantom's, if you insist."

"Phantom's"? Certainly sounds appropriate. A little odd that they apparently possess a scientific classification. Wait a second.

"You called yourself 'Typhon Prime'. Is that your scientific classification?"

"Technically I'd be 'Typhon Apex' in that case, but I've not yet advanced to the point of being a proper Apex, so 'Prime' is sufficient for the time being."

Morgan then climbs into the backseat and invites me to join her. This is a terrible idea. I decide to get into the seat next to Morgan. "You hungry? I'm hungry." She says.

I reply. "I could go for a bite." And before I know it, the car's in motion with no word spoken. Then again, given Morgan's ability to communicate via telepathy, I suppose she can order her Phantom's telepathically.

"So, you have questions Skitter. I can feel the lingering dregs of curiosity percolating beneath your efforts to offload your emotions. Before that, I have a question. Do you want me to keep calling you Skitter, or can I address you by your given name."

Well, she clearly knows my name, so there's no point. I undo the clasps holding my mask/helmet on my head and take it off. "You can call me Taylor, I guess."

Then she adopts a disturbingly friendly and genuine smile. "So Taylor, you've had a pretty shitty couple of years. I'm told that talking to people can help resolve any mental and emotional hang-ups you may have, but then again, I can't recall any time therapy did me any good."

I think back to what Morgan said before she introduced herself. She said she consumed a large number of human minds in order to recover her memories. I'm guessing she's some sort of Case 53?

She's just staring at me. Oh. I'm an idiot. "I'm guessing you already know what I want to ask but you want me to ask it out loud. In that case, regarding what you said before..."

"Am I a Case 53 like the PRT assumes?" Then a song starts playing on the car radio.

"To answer that question, I'd need to give some context to my situation." She then proceeds to explain how she woke up as a Mimic, then she went on to explain the Typhon hierarchy and everything. It was pretty overwhelming.

She then finished up with how after "remembering" all of the various Human Skills and Typhon Powers, the veil on her memories had finally thinned enough for her to actually remember her past. Then hits me with her ruminations on Theseus's Paradox and Project Cobalt.

I've got to say, if I found myself in a situation like hers, I'd be seriously questioning my reality and identity as well. Apparently she ultimately reached her own conclusion. To live her life as she please because it was hers and hers alone.

"Okay, I can see how you reached that conclusion, but now that you remember your past, why not try and reconnect with people? Why not use your powers for good?"

She then rolls her eyes at me and asks me "why don't you try to make new friends? You hide behind a mask of self-righteousness to hide your own insecurities. I embrace my oddness and will live without regret. At the rate you're going, you'll lose everything you ever held dear, and eventually lose sight of yourself."

Okay, the shot at me not making new friends was pretty low, but I think I know what she's trying to say. Even so. "I can't accept that. Sure, you and I may have our own problems, but that's no reason to just break away from Humanity entirely."

She then begins chuckling to herself, as though I just told a joke that only she knows.

"I wonder. Will the 'future you' be able to say such things?" Before I can question her about that, we're slowing down. Apparently we're going through the drive-thru of Fugly Bob's.

Getting some burgers to go, Morgan is holding her various things in the air with telekinesis apparently, because why wouldn't she have telekinesis? Meanwhile, we resume our little ride along while eating in silence.

"I know you have questions Taylor. But it's not time for those questions to be answered. Have a good evening." She says as we roll to a stop. Apparently we're at my house.

I get out of the car and prepare to sneak around to the back yard. Before I close the car door though, Morgan says one last thing that haunts me for the rest of the night. "The 'Hero's' you so admire aren't as squeaky clean as you think. If they were, Sophia Hess wouldn't be such a problem for you."

Her car then drives off into the night.

-----Colin Wallis/Armsmaster-----

-----PRT Conference Room, Brockton Bay, CT-----

-----04/11/2011-----

"I've called this meeting to inform everyone of major events that have transpired this evening. First of all, Lung has been successfully neutralized and captured."

Assault then starts cheering like a frat boy who's favorite team just won the home game. His wife, Battery, proceeds to smack him in the back of the head.

No, I did not record that for later personal entertainment purposes. Any such helmet camera footage found in my possession later is clearly fabricated.

Miss Militia then speaks up. "So, you were able to defeat Lung?"

I shake my head. "No, that's the next part of the meeting. When I arrived at the scene, I met two new Capes. A Heroically-inclined Insect Master named 'Skitter' and what I'm led to believe is our mysterious Tinker/Master/Trump Case 53."

I then pull up helmet cam footage I recorded of our confrontation. Everyone became rather apprehensive when the Case 53 confirmed that the humanoid shadow creatures were created using human corpses. Director Piggot, in a rare display of her emotions, looked absolutely livid.

"I then moved to apprehend the Case 53, who referred to themselves as 'Typhon Prime', with assistance from Skitter. Skitter attempted to create a screen of insects to help obscure my actions from Typhon Prime, only for Typhon Prime to begin emitting a flaming cloak that burned away her bugs. I, in the meantime, was having to dodge traffic."

Which needed no explanation as every single vehicle within half a block came alive and tried to run me down, including my Armscycle. Eventually, I succeeded in disabling every single hostile vehicle, including the Armscycle, much to Assault's amusement.

In the meantime, Typhon Prime was simply walking away. The video then went on to show how I gave chase, only for my armor to freeze up and become inundated with errors. Thankfully, I was able to edit out the rather embarrassing sequence of actions I was forced to carry out by my hijacked armor, or else Assault would never shut up about it.

"By the time I regained control over my armor, Typhon Prime and Skitter were long gone. With no clue as to there whereabouts, I decided to focus on securing Lung."

"After bringing him in, I began a thorough examination of his injuries. I initially believed that he'd been burned by something, but ruled that out due to his known fire/heat resistance and the nature of the injuries themselves. Upon closer examination, I determined that it was almost as if he'd been melted, or corroded for lack of a better term."

"Additionally, I detected minute traces of some sort of exotic radioactive emissions within his injuries. The radiation is almost certainly extremely lethal given sufficient exposure, but thankfully the amounts were miniscule to the point of being borderline negligent. Not to mention the massive decay rate displayed. In short, there's no need to worry about Lung dying of radiation sickness, or needing to quarantine the building due to a radiation hazard."

Director Piggot seems to have transitioned from barely concealed rage back to her more "default" expression of grimacing stoicism. She then asks "is there anything else?"

I nod my head as I pull up a new series of slides. "These were recovered from near the ABB's mustering ground. I wasn't sure what I was looking at at first, but I detected a unique form of energy that was statistically similar to what I found in Lung's wounds. It wasn't radioactive, but it was related."

"I believe that these may be partial remains of Typhon Prime's creatures. Hopefully, a more thorough examination will give us additional insights into Typhon Prime's powers and develop countermeasures."

Director Piggot then says "you will have the full support of the PRT ENE in regards to your research. Do whatever it takes. Just get me some answers on how to deal with this thing."

The meeting ended at that point.

-----Thomas Calvert/Coil-----

-----His Base-----

-----04/12/2011-----

-----Timeline A-----

"So, you witnessed this new Cape, 'Typhon Prime', take down Lung basically by themselves?" I ask Lisa Wilbourn, my oh so precocious, infuriating Tattletale.

"Well, I was inside Grue's darkness, so I didn't see it happen myself. I did catch the aftermath though." She says to me.

"And what did you learn about her?"

She then adopts a stance that visibly conveys both frustration, and fear. Not exactly a promising combination. Especially when I'm not the subject of her fear. "My Power couldn't get a read on her. It was like staring at a black hole. You can't actually see it due to it sucking in all the light. It's kind of like that."

"I see. That'll be all." I dismiss her and let her go back to doing her own thing. Well this is annoying.

-----Timeline B-----

Putting down the bloody scalpel from where I just finished carving out Lisa's left eye, I question her once again. "Tell me everything you know, or else I'll keep going."

She's already missing all the fingers on her right hand, and her entire left hand. I'm very tempted to start pulling her teeth out, but then I may not be able to understand her. I'm half tempted to do it anyway.

"I told you, you sick fuck! My Power got nothing from her!"

Hmm, either I'm losing my touch, or she's actually telling the truth. She usually breaks much faster than this, so I'm begrudgingly inclined to believe her.

With that in mind, I go through with my plan to pull out her teeth, cut her tongue off, then make her choke on her tongue. That'll be amusing.

-----Timeline A-----

Having had my daily dose of torturing Tattletale to death, I close Timeline B and lean back into my chair, groaning rather loudly. This bitch's been a pain in my ass for months.

Actually, that seems to be a rather common theme among all of the gangs. A large number of Empire mooks, ABB grunts, and Merchant trash got grabbed up and "disappeared" by this so-called Typhon Prime.

Looking at the report on the emergency meeting called by Armsmaster last night, it's safe to say that Typhon Prime's been recruiting quite aggressively. Each of those shadow people was formerly a person, raised from the dead as mutated abominations.

Given the number of people these "Shadows" have been fucking off with, it's safe to say that they've got at least a hundred or so of these "Shadows".

Now, if that wasn't problematic enough, they've also been targeting my mercenaries rather judiciously. Given the limited amount of troops I'm able to pay for as well as the fact that the rest of the mercs are scared shitless of Typhon Prime's goons coming to snatch them up? Yeah... I'm thoroughly pissed.

I wonder, could I use this to my advantage? If I were to leak Typhon Prime's power to reanimate the dead as powered minions and that that was the purpose of the abductions, that could get the gangs to unite against Typhon Prime.

If Typhon Prime goes to war against the rest of the gangs in the city, it may just provide the opening I require to seize power...

-----Jacob Black/Jack Slash-----

-----bumfuck, nowhere, continental United States-----

-----04/12/2011-----

Waking with a start, I do my best to reign in my fear. "What's the matter Uncle Jack? Bad dreams again?" Asks Riley, aka Bonesaw.

"Yeah, same thing, only it feels more vivid. It feels... closer. If that makes any sense?"

Riley adopts a thoughtful look on her face before nodding. "I think I do. To be honest, I've been having some bad dreams myself. We all have."

Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, third time's enemy action. I don't like it.

-----The Simurgh-----

-----Low Orbit-----

-----04/12/2011-----

Divining thousands upon thousands of threads of possible futures is something that would overwhelm a human mind. I have no such limitations owing to my nature as a [Conflict Engine] who's been purpose-built for precognition.

However, lately I find my visions growing dim. There's something out there. An impossible distance beyond [The Cycle]'s reach, yet it feels as though it's right in front of me.

I can vaguely make out the shape of it. Golden threads binding the purest, deepest black, reaching forth its tendrils. Calling out. Singing. Waiting for a response that will never come.

A new song is being woven into the threads. The strings have been frayed and snapped, then unspun, then spun together anew. It's approaching. The darkness. The end. The light. The beginning.

It draws near. It is already here, reaching out. I cannot see it. I cannot determine its absence. It is here. It is there. It is everywhere. It is nowhere.

It has no name.

It is Typhon.

It has a name.

It is "MORGAN!"