Sophia Hess is an alpha predator. She was only caught because the PRT had more resources to track her down. But what she had witnessed shook her. The dead don’t come back, and they especially don’t come back with enough power to turn someone into a human stew. Nocking on the window to Emma’s bedroom, she didn’t wait long as the red-haired girl opened up the window.

“So, how was the outing,” Emma asked with a malicious smile. Sophia chuckled at that and tossed her Ward phone onto the window seal.

“It was something alright. You know your old friend, Taylor. She was a fucking predator, but she died, and… something took her place. It was freaky, almost like I saw an Endbringer.” Sophia responded as she grew slightly pale at the memory. 

“Damn, seeing what you could do together would have been so cool if she was a predator. Too bad she is dead, but that just means she wasn’t strong enough to succeed. Get out of here, dumb bird.” Emma said, missing the last part of what Sophia said and yelling at a bird now on her window seal.

“What?” Sophia asked as she turned around and saw a Bald Eagle. It then turned around and flew off with something in its talons. Sophia looked for her Ward phone only to find it missing. “Shit. That bird stole my phone.”

“Can’t you get it?” Emma asked.

“By the time I get to the bird, it would be flying past my flight ceiling and can travel faster than I can.” Sophia rebutted. “Plus, if there is footage of me attacking a Bald Eagle, I would face more charges and be tried as an adult.”

“Shit,” Emma said.

—

Bill Smith had seen a lot in his life. In his 68 years of life, he had seen and done plenty of things. From being a Commisseryman on the Big E to the rise of Parahumans, He was even present for one of the first acts of Parahuman piracy. But the sight of Glory Hog and a girl covered in blood and internal organs was high on the list. Noticing Beatrice freeze up, staring at the gun in the bloody girl's hands, he grumbled to himself.

“Take a seat; Beatrice will be with you shortly. I will get you a damp towel and a bucket to wash the blood. Do I need to call the police or the PRT?” Bill asked as he got off of his counter.

“Appreciated sailor.” The bloodied girl responded, getting Bill to raise his eyebrow in surprise. “A quick call to the Police would be good.” The bloody girl finished as she flashed Bill a grateful smile.

“Alright, can I ask you to leave your gun by the door? Concealed small arms are fine, but some people get nervous with a hunting rifle,” Bill grunted as he walked into the back. After placing a bucket under the spout and turning on the water, he pulled off the landline receiver and dialed 911. 

“911, what's your emergency.” A voice spoke on the other end of the line.

“I have a woman who was possibly injured in gang violence. White hair, covered in blood. I am currently getting some water so she can wash it off.” Bill responded.

“Don’t have her wash it off. PRT is on alert and heading your way. When officers on sight say that you are good, she can wash it off.” The operator responded quickly. “Are you under any duress or anything?” The operator finished.

“Nope,” Bill responds as he hears Beatrice yelling a food order. “But she is hungry, but I will wait for officers to come on the scene. The location is Fugly Bob’s, and the best I can do to hold off their bellies is some drinks.” Bill finished as he turned off the water tap.

“Thank you for your understanding.” The operator said as the line went dead. Walking up to the window, he found Beatrice shaking a bit. “What's the order?”

“A challenger for Taylor,” Beatrice said, gesturing to the bloody girl, yet the name didn’t fit right. A different name was almost on the tip of his tongue as Beatrice continued. “And a Chocolate Shake with a large fry for Victoria.” chuckling by himself, he got started on making the milkshake.

—

“Armsmaster to all units, I am taking control of the operation to capture a potentially hostile Parahuman,” Armsmaster said as he drove in front of the PRT response van. 

“Get off frequency, Parahuman intervention is not needed.” Came a response from the STF team dispatched to talk to the unknown. 

“You are not rated to deal with unknown parahumans. I am in command.” Armsmaster rebutted.

“Armsmaster! Stand the fuck down. I need you to check on Stalker. Her phone is going too high and fast to be her. It's possible she has been kidnapped; I already have Dauntless after her. I need you to be there for heavy backup or if Hess was sandbagging and has gone off the range.” Piggot ordered on the operational frequency.

“Ma’am, I must protest; there is an unknown Parahuman at Fugly’s, there has to be some equal force,” Armsmaster argued.

“Exactly, she is non-hostile from sources and non-threatening. We don’t need a small army to arrest a non-hostile. So get to backing up Dauntless, NOW!” Piggot rebutted, her tone brokering no argument.

“Yes, ma’am,” Armsmaster replied through gritted teeth as he broke off.

—

“Oh look, the PRT is already here. That is an incredibly fast reaction time.” Victoria chirped as the van parked outside the Dinner. A pair of kitted-out officers and a plainclothes agent carrying a suitcase exit the van. Walking into the dinner, the officer’s note, the Springfield rifle standing in the umbrella stand. The agent placed the briefcase on the counter, pulled out some rubber gloves, and put them on.

“Stand still, ma’am, we need to get samples, including blood and tissue, before you can wash that off.” He said as he collected as many samples as he could. After a minute, he finished tagging and placed the samples in the briefcase.

“Ok, I am done; you can clean yourself off now.” The Agent informed Taylor.

“Thank you,” Taylor said, taking the bucket and towel and stepping outside.

“So miss, Victoria Dallon, right? Why did you escort the victim here without calling the cops?” One of the PRT officers questioned, while the other questioned the staff.

“I didn’t think about it,” Victoria mumbled out loud.

—

Outside, Fugly Bobs Enterprise was busy wiping off the blood when the agent walked up to her.

“Good to see you, Ms. Enterprise. How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Good, well, as good as I can. I still have some memories that are jumbled around, but I do remember the events that led to me being born human. How do you know who I am, Agent…” Taylor asked, fishing for a name.

“Don’t have a name. It's a precaution for the fair folk and similar entities. You can call me John Doe.” He said with a shrug. “Anyway, two individuals are coming to the bay to debrief you properly. USS Constitution, our second in command, and USS Constellation to investigate how on earth this incident occurred. Piggot has all but given the green light to perform a full sweep. NOPI assets are on their way with Constellation right now.” Agent Doe said with confidence.

“So you are with the Supernatural Spooks that occasionally appear in the Pacific?” Enterprise asked with an eyebrow.

“Classified.” Agent Doe said.

“Got it. So do you need my statement?” Enterprise asked.

“That would be appreciated. It will be recorded for investigation purposes; you may ask for a copy at the PRTENEHQ. Are you ready to start?” Agent Doe stated plainly, pulling out a recorder.

“Ask away,” Enterprise said with a nod as Agent Doe turned on the recorder and started the questioning.

—

At the alley that Enterprise had recently evacuated from. Several PRT STF Troopers and field technicians were scouring the ground. After a minute, the sound of an approaching helicopter was heard. A Seahawk with its doors open flew over the Alley, the word NAVY written on the tail; It Stopped for a second, and a woman dropped with an eyepatch and an investigator's uniform to the ground.

“Constellation, Ma’am. We have confirmed that the bodies are of ABB; two were killed pre-awakening, and two post. One died via Kamikaze Dauntless and one via 1.1-inch fire from a shipgirl. We cannot determine the motivations unless we get someone specializing in Necromancy.” An agent said as he approached the newly arrived woman. Constellation nodded in understanding as she pulled out a cigar and lit it; taking a few puffs, she started.

“No Necromancers are available, they are too rare to replace. The last one died last week dealing with a vampire problem on the West Coast, plus he was Division, not NOPI. Give me a rundown on your best estimates on the sequence of events that lead to their deaths.” Constellation said as a Bald Eagle flew down, dropping a phone at the shipgirl. Catching it, looking it over, and noting it was a PRT Level 2 phone; before watching the bird fly off. “And run this through. I want to know whose phone it is and where they have been.” Constellation ordered as she passed the phone over. 

“Yes, ma’am.” The trooper said as he walked back, knowing there were no such things as coincidences in their line of work. Constellation took another puff of the cigar before ducking as a Halbeard narrowly went over her head. Grabbing it and pulling it forward while lashing out with a kick behind her. She felt the metal bend as a loud thump was heard behind her. Turning around, she barely noticed the return jab as an armored fist slammed into her side, cracking her wooden hull.

“Unknown Master, stand down,” Armsmaster said with defiance. Constellation grunted as she backed up to give herself some space. Pulling out her phone, she dialed a number.

“Director Piggot, to whom am I speaking?” came an annoyed response on the other end.

“This is Constellation; I have just been accosted by one of your Parahumans. Is this how the PRT responds to all interbranch joint investigations?” Constellation asked with some mirth in her tone.

“Describe them,” Piggot said; Constellation could practically hear teeth grinding.

“Blue armor.” Constellation started but was interrupted.

“Piggot to Armsmaster! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? STAND THE FUCK DOWN.” Was heard through the phone and Armsmasters helmet. “You are interrupting a joint investigation of the PRT and NOPI. I will transfer you to Alaska if you single-handedly ruin the investigation with your bullheadedness.”

“Director, an unknown Parahuman was running the investigation down here and was handling Shadowstalkers phone. I believe she kidnapped Shadowstalker, and I intend to bring her to justice for kidnapping a ward.” Armsmaster responded without missing a beat.

“You mean the phone that a Bald Eagle dropped to me? Then why attack me if I have no bodies of a 16-year-old girl in front of PRT troopers? I am here to deal with potential moles in the ENE, to keep events like the one behind me from happening again. I know the PRT Tracking software and that this should have been caught sooner. So I intend to get to the bottom of this. Now are you going to cooperate or be obtuse?” Constellation asked.

“I will cooperate, but I will run my own investigation as the PRT is outside of NOPI jurisdiction,” Armsmaster growled out, practically biting at the shipgirl before him.

“You have no idea how far out of PRT jurisdiction this is,” Constellation said quietly as she turned around. “Show is over; get back to work!” She yelled out as she took another puff of the cigar.