“Good afternoon Amaranth,” Dr. Yamada greeted me as she opened her office door. “How can I help you?”

  “Hi doctor um,” I shuffled back half a step. “Sorry to bother you, I know I’m not scheduled til Friday, just wanted to ask about like, maybe what we could talk about then?”

  “Certainly, please come in.” She turned and opened the door further to let me in. “Have a seat.”

  “I won’t be long,” I said quickly, standing beside the armchair I usually took. “Really just...okay, so you know about the end of the world sort of. Jack Slash starts it and...and I need to stop him. I don’t know how yet beyond working my ass off, but I think the key might be in my...in the other’s memories. Can you help with that somehow? If there’s even a chance then I need to take it.” She gave me a look full of concern.

  “Have a seat, please Amaranth.” Yamada pushed her glasses up her nose.

  “I don’t need a seat, doctor, I need your help. Whether I like it or not.”

  “I’m sorry Amaranth, are you saying you don’t want me to be your therapist anymore?”

  “I didn’t say that” I snapped. “But just...I’m not exactly jazzed about getting all that stuff we talked about reported to the PRT.”

  “Pardon me?” She sounded surprised.

  “Alexandria before she—” I swallowed against a sudden lump in my throat. “Before Skitter killed her, she told me there was a report about me and...and what I remembered.”

  “Case file seventy-eight,” she replied with a nod. “It doesn’t include any details about your memories, beyond that they are extradimensional in origin. But it also does not reference you in any way, Amaranth.”

  “She figured it out,” I replied with a shrug. “Means others could too. Can’t you like, retract it or something?”

  “I could, but Amaranth you consented to this.” Yamada frowned. “We discussed this at the beginning of your sessions with me, remember?”

  “I...was that on the forms?” I scratched my head. “I don’t know, I guess but now people know.”

  “I’m sorry that makes you uncomfortable,” she said. “I can request a retraction from the PRT citing a withdrawal of consent, if that’s what you want, and not publish any future information about your power.”

  “Just like that?” I knit my brows.

  “Of course,” Yamada replied. “It would be unethical not to. I cannot promise the PRT will follow through, and I apologize for that.” My shoulders slumped.

  “Huh.”

  “Is something the matter?”

  “I don’t know I expected...something,” I said, shaking my head. “Like, pushback or something.”

  “Why?” she asked, pursing her lips. “If you can’t trust me to respect your boundaries, this simply won’t work.”

  “I...okay.” I couldn’t look this gift horse in the mouth. If Yamada was willing to humour me, I couldn’t pass it up. “So, memories, will you help me find out if there’s something to stop the end of the world?”

  “How would you like me to help?” Yamada said. “We can continue the exercises from the beginning of talking about them, though more directed.”

  “I don’t know yet just, well.” I sighed and tugged at my mask. “I want you to help keep me me. I don’t want to fuck myself over like I did, like usual.”

  “I can teach tools to help with that,” she said with a nod. “Anything else you’d like to talk about?”

  “Not right now, I guess.” I wanted to talk about Amy but… “Yeah, not right now.”

  “Of course,” she replied. “In that case, I suppose I’ll see you Friday.”

  I gave her a nod and headed out, heading straight for the elevator; still plenty to do on a Tuesday afternoon. I caught a glimpse of Amy as she headed down the infirmary hall, and we shared a brief look before she quickly ducked behind a privacy curtain. I paused for half a second before thinking better of it and continuing; I had stuff to do still, far more important than that talk.

  Actually, right now I was doing probably the most important thing I’d do for the rest of my career; potential prevention of armageddon aside. I still didn’t have a date to give the heroes for Behemoth, but advanced warning was probably good enough. Hopefully just telling them it was in India would be enough too.

  For once, I arrived first for the meeting. I took a seat at the small, empty table in the little meeting room. Turning my head, I sighed as I looked out over the bay, past the skyscrapers with empty windows still gaping like eyeless sockets, to the darkening horizon. It looked peaceful, there weren’t any pillars of smoke rising from one fire or another, no chattering of distant gunfire.

  A facade. Nazis were spread all over the south and east, butting heads with the Undersiders and especially Ambassadors. Autumn had made a passing comment about a new gang, Orchard, apparently rolling into town. Arguably as bad as the Nazis, human traffickers and Masters. That wasn’t even getting into the litany of unpowered gangs filling in the gaps.

  Peace. How was the Protectorate able to spout that when things were getting uglier every day? Maybe not more violent, certainly not more than when the Nine were in town or the Undersiders were being run by a teenage nutbag. Still, Nazis and human Masters weren’t something to let slide. I chewed my lip ragged as I stared out the window, wondering if I’d ever actually see ‘peace’ again.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  “Ah, hello Amaranth,” Miss Militia said as she finally joined me. “How are you doing today?”

  “Fine, all things considered,” I said with a shrug; bitching about the truce wouldn’t get me anywhere. “I need to make a sworn statement for a prediction, did you bring the stuff?”

  “I did,” she replied, placing a piece of paper and a pen on the table in front of me before taking a seat. “May I ask what this is about?”

  “Behemoth’s next attack,” I replied, ignoring the sharp intake of breath as I grabbed the pen and started writing. “India, next month I think. Not totally sure, my brain doesn’t really give me dates.” Not until I died and came back anyway…

  “Predicting the Endbringers—”

  “Run it by Dragon and Defiant,” I cut her off. “I know it’s ‘impossible’, but here we are. You can’t run it by Watchdog because it’s Behemoth, but they have some kind of computer thing that helps, don’t they?”

  “It’s still being worked on, is my understanding,” she said. “Amaranth, how are you able to predict an Endbringer attack?”

  “My power, or memories, or however you want to describe it,” I said. “I don’t remember a lot of details, or like where it is. Um, could you pull up a map actually?”

  She stared at me quietly for a moment, then nodded and pulled out her phone. I snagged it when she turned it my way, scrolling around the subcontinent looking for any familiar names. I spotted Lucknow in the north, that one I remembered being important for some reasons. Nearby was New Delhi, which also sounded familiar but it was the national capital. Could be there, that would make some sense because it was important.

  “Dammit,” I swore quietly, writing the two city names down with question marks next to each. “Maybe here or here, the names sound familiar. I...don’t exactly know many places in India.”

  “You understand the consequences of making a false prediction, don’t you Amaranth?” Miss Militia asked, taking the paper back and reading it quickly.

  “The Birdcage,” I said simply. “Ma’am I’ve been shit scared of talking about this stuff for so long. Can you maybe not push me to keep my mouth shut?”

  “I only want you to understand the dangers of this,” she replied. “No precog is able to predict Endbringer attacks.”

  “Neither can I,” I said. “This, plus the Simurgh next is about all I remember. She doesn’t even attack a city I think, just a plane somewhere.” She bristled.

  “You’ve been holding back.” I flinched at the accusation in her tone.

  “Yeah,” I admitted, hanging my head. “Not without good reason. Coil...yeah, I wasn’t going to start talking with him around because I knew how badly that would end. But yeah, I don’t exactly like thinking about the future, or how I know about it either. But I can talk about it now and I’m trying.”

  “And what else?” I sighed.

  “I’ve changed enough that I have no sweet clue, ma’am,” I said glumly. “Don’t even know exactly how the world ends, beyond Jack causing it. But I’m trying to figure it out, okay?”

  “Alright,” Miss Militia said after a moment, retrieving the paper and pen. “Was there anything else you needed to discuss right now?”

  “No, I’m good,” I said, then frowned and lowered my voice. “Um, actually, this new truce...I think it’s a bad idea.” She narrowed her eyes. “Look I get it, wanting to keep capes alive to stop the apocalypse, but what about civilians? If we let the villains off the leash, people are going to suffer. We should at least be wiping out the real monsters, the Nazis, the Masters and shit.” She took a deep breath and shut her eyes.

  “The last few months have been a serious challenge,” Miss Militia began after a moment, eyes still closed. “We’ve lost too many good heroes and good people, some to enemies, some because of the recent revelations. I agreed with the assessment that we need to focus on Jack Slash and the prophecy. But we won’t be letting the villains ‘off the leash’, we’re still going to fight them and protect people.”

  “But we won’t go after them,” I said. “We won’t wipe them out.”

  “This isn’t a war, Amaranth, and we aren’t soldiers.”

  “Guess I know where Clockblocker got that line.”

  “Amaranth…” Her look turned to one of concern. “I know you’ve only been a Ward in the worst of times, but we can’t let ourselves become stuck there. I understand how you feel, but we need to look towards the future.”

  “I know,” I said with a sigh. “Whatever, I knew complaining wouldn’t do anything, but now it’s on record or something.”

  “Trust me Amaranth, things are going to get better.” Miss Militia rose from her seat. “Just wait and see. I’ll make sure this prediction is taken seriously, despite its nature, okay?”

  “Alright,” I replied, standing. “Thanks for that at least, ma’am.”

  “Have a good day.”

  She left me alone in the meeting room. I turned to the window again, sighing as the warm tones of early evening spread across the sky. Glancing down towards the streets, I frowned. A series of small lights were flickering down there, outside a ring of armoured vans and officers. Curious, I left the room and headed to the elevator.

  There were two squads of tactical officers in the lobby when I entered, armed with rifles and SMGs. Despite rolling heavy, it didn’t sound like there was a fight going on. I headed out and walked towards the ring of vans that kept people away from the entrance of the building. Even with Skitter dead and the gangs quiet, they were keeping security tight.

  “What’s going on?” I asked a trooper with lieutenant’s markings on his collar. Further down the line, I could see Battery standing with her arms crossed.

  “A vigil, ma’am,” he replied, gesturing to the crowd beyond who were placing candles pretty much as close to the officers as they dared. “They blame us for killing Skitter.” I glanced out at the crowd.

  There were a lot of kids. Well not kids exactly, not most of them. They looked around my age, maybe even a little older. Classmates? Gang members? They weren’t wearing colours, just approaching the line of officers with grenade and confoam launchers ready, putting down a candle, and leaving. I couldn’t see a single mask or cape among them.

  A genuine memorial. I felt a lump growing in my throat. Yes, Skitter was a villain, one of the worst Brockton Bay had seen. She was also a brutal warlord that ruled her area of the city with a chitinous fist. But she fed people, she made sure trash had been cleared, she gave them medicine, organized them, took care of them.

  She was just sixteen, and she had to save the world.

  I checked my hood and mask were in place, then shouldered through the line of officers and made my way into the crowd. I ignored the lieutenant calling to me, and Battery after him. People avoided me as I walked out, giving me a wide berth as they continued to place candles. I saw where they were getting them, a small van with a few people passing them out. I headed over, ignoring the glares I was getting from the people working.

  “Hey,” I said, croaked really. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Hey, um, this is for Skitter or...Taylor, right?”

  “Yeah,” a burly guy in a white-striped tracksuit said, crossing his arms. “What’s it to you, pig?”

  “Can I have one?”

  “Why?”

  “I…” I licked my lips and took a deep breath. “Because she didn’t deserve it.” The three shared a look, and a girl with dreads grabbed a candle and lit it, then put it in a jar. She passed it to the beefy guy who held it out to me. “Thanks.”

  “Thank us by not killing more of us,” dread-head said.

  What the hell could I say to that? I just bobbed my head and turned around, walking back towards the line of officers. They let me through, though I got a few looks carrying the candle past the lines. No one stopped me though, not when I walked across the plaza, or when I walked up the stairs. I paused at the top, looking back at the crowd beyond the vans.

  Impulsively, I raised the candle over my head and held it there for a second, then bent down and placed it at the top of the stairs. When I looked again, I saw more candles being raised. With a sigh, I turned around and headed back in. Memorializing the villain I’d arrested...what a fucked up world. But in a way, it wasn’t just about her.

  I was just sixteen after all, and I had to save the world.