May 7th. A Saturday like any other. Barely over a week out from her birthday, but Missy was not enthused.
Mostly because her entire friend group (of like five people) had completely shifted from a comfortable microcosm of Arcadia Middle School best kept at arms length into…well, a shitty romcom.
It started innocently enough. Dinah and Evan had gone off to have their chat, and Missy was tempted to eavesdrop on them. She had even been building a space tunnel to peep on them when Traci had approached, forcing her to dismantle her affront to physics before anyone could catch her in the act. As stupid as it would be to out herself that way, she admitted it would've been worth it if only to figure out what they were talking about.
Traci had asked her about it, swiping what remained of Evan's lunch. Missy didn't really have an answer, mostly because Dinah had remained close-lipped and had no reason to really trust Missy. It was a point of contention for them, especially because the other girl was overexposed at school and mostly tried to avoid the spotlight. Traci thought it was a salacious love confession, or a secret cape thing that involved surprise blood relations or a long lost twin. Or maybe she had cornered Evan about his villainous career, or maybe Evan had bought her something and she was telling him she accepted his dowry.
Missy asked what a dowry was.
Traci admitted she had no idea, but remembered the matron she and Evan lived with watched a bunch of vintage movies from the 70s, all blood and sex and cheap writing and other things children their age shouldn't be watching.
It was as Missy was considering the possibility that she needed new friends that Dinah burst into tears, hugging the life out of Evan.
She and Traci had gone silent, for entirely different reasons. Missy admitted that Dinah wasn't the type to cry openly, especially not to someone she didn't know well. Traci admitted that Evan Marko was not a boy built for comfort and affection, mostly possessed of the affectations of a particularly malnourished hairless cat soaked in piss.
Her words, not Missy's.
Then things got even weirder.
The moment they came back, they were different. Too different. Too close. Dinah had not left his side the rest of the day, refusing to elaborate on what they discussed and even promising to see Evan after school to help him with "the thing."
Evan told her to fuck off using only his stare alone.
Dinah ignored him.
Evan's afterschool activities were none of her business, according to their teachers.
Dinah told him she was sixty seven percent positive she'd "become his future wife."
Evan threw his hands up and stormed off, face beet red and hissing. Missy didn't get it.
She didn't get Dinah either, who ignored all her questions up until she appeared at her job the next day, signing a specially-curated contract that was written mostly by Dinah and a lawyer hired specifically by her. Apparently, she had a lot of allowance saved up, and her parents trusted her to keep herself safe after one too many nightmare scenarios beat into their skulls.
While Missy didn't know the details of the contract, only that Mr. Calle had taken one look at it and cackled like a madman, she did get some answers she was looking for.
When Dinah cornered her, unmasked her, and asked her how much a Ward can legally be paid for "killing a death pigeon with space magic birdshot."
When asked to clarify that, Dinah giggled to herself and claimed she wanted to give her future husband the Simurgh's head as a gift.
Within earshot of Opsec, making her fifth cup of shitty coffee that day after getting less than eight hours of sleep since Coil was arrested. Smug, unflappable Opsec, who took to her new job like a champ and smoothed over Mayfly's recruitment for a better paycheck.
Who took one look at Dinah's smiling face and promptly about-faced into her room, screaming obscenities.
And that was just one day! She doesn't even get patrols, she just sits next to Opsec at the console!
Dinah had clearly gone mad in Missy's eyes, and she wanted nothing more than to blame Evan fucking Marko for whatever he did or said to her. Traci didn't think Evan had it in him to really play with a girl's heart, mostly because he was utterly fucking clueless and likely thought girls had cooties. It was the only explanation she had for why he never seemed to behave like the other boys going through their hormonal stage, always sticking to himself and acting creepily self-sufficient.
Missy would've had a rebuttal for it, but that's when, that Wednesday, the Charlie twins stuck their nose in it, and God, did Missy wish she could just erase her memory.
So, Charlotte and Charles Dubois are both at the end of their stay at Arcadia Middle. Last year, entering high school, mostly unfamiliar with any of the new students but lacking any friends of their own year to gossip with.
So, they spent their time around Missy and Evan, mostly because the two had made such an amusing first impression that day weeks ago. Charlotte thought Evan was cute, in that bumbling, awkward underclassmen sort of way, and she had the great fucking idea of fulfilling her weird shoujo manga fantasies by acting like…what did she call it, an "Ara Ara Onee-sama" or something. The girl had been filling out in recent months, so she thought she could pull it off.
Unfortunately, she did all this to no effect, as Evan had no reaction other than a very disappointed raised eyebrow and a slow, condescending sip of his orange juice.
Charles exploded on him then, clearly unsettled by the lack of response and altogether solemn maturity the other boy had. He had a crush on Dinah, had admitted to it right then and there, and accused Evan of being a playboy and a soulless freak for reasons unknown.
While Missy admits his outburst was harsh, the chilling response he got was exceptionally out of pocket.
Dinah, casually and without hesitation or context, told Charles in no uncertain terms that he would die next week. "A sixty percent chance by drowning, thirty-two percent chance by falling debris, and a seven percent chance by shitting himself to death like the whiny, baby-faced, cheese-eating, piss-soaked surrender monkey" that he is.
The cafeteria had gone completely silent. Dinah became a legend twice over that day.
The rest of the week passed in horrified, nail-biting tension, kids picking sides and goading fights, acting stupid and vapid and utterly too concerned with other people's personal lives like the nosy idiots they were.
Thank God Missy wasn't like that, she was normal.
Anyway, the Charlie twins had pulled back from the group, Traci was mostly too afraid to even talk to Dinah without Evan present, and Evan himself? Well, he seemed mostly unbothered. Too unbothered actually.
Much like now, where she, Gallant, and Glory Girl were trying to breach the barrier where he and Panacea were taken hostage.
By Uber and Leet.
With a hundred disposable robot minions made to look like zombies.
Streamed live to all of Brockton Bay.
How the hell did we get here? What insane course of events had to happen to lead to this, Evan?
Oh, if only she knew.
***
This week had been an eventful rollercoaster of emotions. I got discovered by Dinah, who stuck to me like glue, claiming many things that I will not dwell on ever since I allowed her to model me with her power. I thought it would give her peace of mind, and even with that information, her Shard would be unable to share what it knew about me with other Shards.
Of course, Dinah abused this religiously, the traitor, and claimed that she would be…well, it doesn't matter, because she was lying to fuck with me. She had to be, especially since I granted her wish to be able to do so. I don't regret it, not with how much joy I see in her face every time she can spout numbers without feeling immediate pain.
Of course, the others had no idea what the fuck she was talking about, except maybe Missy, who looked mostly pale and buying into Dinah's jokes a little too much. Seriously, I asked Dinah what she had told her, and Dinah freely admitted to being a Ward now. She claimed she'd be the breadwinner of the family, so that I can spend more time being a hero to people.
I told her I wasn't a hero, of course.
She laughed.
"Even if nobody knows the real you, they know what you do for them. You're a hero to me, Evan."
I didn't give that a response, mostly because I had better things to do than convince Dinah how utterly wrong she was, but the Charlie twins had seen us bickering and tried to get in on that. Charlotte thought I was bulliable, playing the perfect Ojou-sama and even doing the laugh when I glared at her. She called me her Little Man, mostly due to the fact I was abnormally short for my age, which is something I can't control and thus have to endure until I managed to find an opportunity to fake a growth spurt using my powers.
While I didn't mind being tiny anymore, as the dysmorphia became manageable once I accepted the fact I was fully Evan Marko, it was getting a little tiring being the victim of midget jokes from everyone around me. Case in point–
"Morning, Evan! I heard you were pickpocketed yesterday, sorry to hear about that."
*visible confusion*
"I know, right? How could someone stoop so low?"
*two seconds pass, realization, angry Evan noises*
And more shit like that.
Charlotte was a lovely girl, don't get me wrong. She was easygoing and I'll admit that she filled out her clothes nicely enough. If I were like any other boy in the school, I wouldn't have a problem admitting I had a crush on her, she was ranked number three on Arcadia Middle School's "Top Five Big Sisters" for a reason after all.
However, looking like a fully grown teenager at fourteen and being smart enough to do beginner college work didn't matter to me much. I may be a child still, but I was above such petty things like hormones. You can thank my other life's memories for that.
Of course, that didn't sit well with her brother, who had been watching me, testing me, had even cornered me before lunch wanting to hang out later only to be humiliated when I made him quiver under my dead-eyed gaze. I felt bad for him then, because he really had just wanted to get to know me, share his interests and even be an older sibling figure like his sister. Unfortunately, I was the last person he could do that to, and something about my emo chic made him incredibly nervous.
Enough to nearly piss himself.
Enough to go off at me in front of everyone and call me a freak, because I merely sat there and took it. I'll admit, it hurt a bit, but I couldn't help it. With an adult's memories, most of which were used to being yelled at by much more intimidating and personal figures than a preteen, his words didn't really register.
They registered to Dinah, though.
Who then proceeded to take him apart by lowkey suggesting Leviathan was going to attack the Bay and personally kill him.
Which…holy shit.
Now I was meandering through Gateway Plaza, a massive shopping mall between Downtown and the Boardwalk that opened at the beginning of the year. "To attract the youth," they said. Most saw it as a monument to corporate colonialism, because businesses everywhere opened chains that charged up the ass for products that were priced lower online and in thrift shops. Speaking of, I was in one such shop, buying new clothes with money I made from Kyubey.
The funny things is, as much as I dissuade the downtrodden from making offerings to Kyubey for mostly easy and benign wishes, many cultures had respect and equivalent exchange baked in. Especially the Asian grandmas and former yakuza who considered Kyubey a part of the family now. Most of the wishes I granted in Japan was restoration work, and recently I've branched out into healing and transport after finding the combination of powers that helped me cure Case 53s. My latest wish came from a really shy girl who was too scared to have Kyubey come in person, who only wished to become human. She was willing to give anything, even eternal servitude, just to feel the sun on her skin again.
I had a sneaking suspicion that girl was Sveta, and being Ward's Best Girl meant I granted her wish at no cost to her. She still chooses to worship me, though. Defends my right to heal others to the government and everything.
Cases like hers, where I resisted from taking advantage of people, ended up benefitting me more in the long run. Kyubey was now widely known to the public as a well-kept secret, a humble and benevolent figure that nobody could agree on. If they were Parahuman or divine or magic. If they were taking advantage of people or genuinely meant to do good. If they were better in the hands of the government, or in the wind serving the people.
I started arguments everywhere I sent the mascot, to the point that PHO had dedicated, pinned threads for Kyubey and his happenings. Stories about wishes granted, theories about where he'll go next, powerscaling against various heroes and S-Class threats, and especially heavily moderated threads about his opinions on politics and gender and sexuality and whether or not he was the only one of his kind. Mostly because the thought of Kyubey with tits turned some people on.
Fucking furries…
Long story short, I had spending money now, in numerous currencies and precious items. I was using that money to get some better clothes, spending my time in this Hot Topic out of spite more than anything.
If I was a typical Worm MC, I'd be at Parian's, spending money on getting a "speshul totally kool hero costume" that was bulletproof, waterproof, knifeproof, fireproof, plotproof, and perfectly measured after a bout of sexual tension with the older Rogue admiring how thick and awesome my muscles were. If I were a girl, I'd get shipped with her and force her into the fight as an ally after saving her from the Empire trashing her shop.
Or other such nonsense like that.
See, I'm avoiding the plot after the bullshit that was Arbor Day. If I'm nowhere near canon characters or their haunts, I won't run into contrived plot bullshit that threatens to expose my civilian identity. I won't be forced to do hero nonsense if I'm out running errands for myself like clothes shopping.
Nobody gets attacked while clothes shopping, surely? This is the kind of thing that gets skipped over in fanfic, if its mentioned at all. I chose Hot Topic over other, more mainstream and expensive bands because I didn't want to look like a main character, and judging by how nothing's happened in the hour I've spent playing into the emo stereotype, I feel like it's working.
"Are you lost, little girl? Where are your parents?"
A concerned worker saw me picking out oversized music tees and shiny baubles and decided to help me. Despite confusing me for a girl, I didn't mind her attention one bit because, reader, when I say this woman was a genuine, ten out of ten, BIG TIDDY GOTH GF in all caps, I mean it.
This woman was entirely different from Charlotte's amateur flirting. She was clearly a college student at Brockton U, and she was blonde, dyed black with blonde roots, perfectly smooth-skinned with no acne or pock marks, and she had piercings on her ears and lip, and occult tattoos on her arms, and her tits were straining the nu metal v-neck she wore, and…
Awooga. Awooga for ten thousand years!
"Oh," She chuckled, her dark red eyeshadow and lipstick catching my attention and making me ignore the next sentence, "You're new to the scene, aren't you? Looking for tips?"
"Bwuh."
She reached out, pulling the Skulls and Wishbones shirt from my hands and shuffling through the clothing rack. With practiced ease, she pulled out a similar black shirt, more my size and style, a fake university plastered on it that screamed rebel goth if you looked at it.
"This one won't get you in trouble at school for dress code violations. At least you can wear it all year," She pressed the shirt into my hands, brushing against me as she searched for a complimentary accessory "on the house."
I absentmindedly followed her around as she searched the aisles, getting a bunch of shirts, pants, shorts and oversized sweaters that could outfit an entire four-season wardrobe with spares for less than two hundred dollars.
Stopping at the cash register, the Goth Mommy Of My Dreams rang me up herself, introduced herself as Crystal, and sent me on my way before I could recover.
Walking around the mall with bags full of clothes, not straining a bit thanks to my Spider Man powers, I hardly noticed when I bumped into someone walking near the food court. I clearly knocked her over, not bothering to pick her up because doing so would look suspicious, and did my best to look sorry in preparation for whatever tirade the stranger would throw at me.
However, that was not to be. Instead, I found out that Murphy hated my guts, that man plans, but God laughs, because sitting flat on her ass was none other than Panacea, wearing what had to be a poor attempt at a disguise considering it was just sunglasses over streetwear. I could recognise those freckles and frizzy hairdo anywhere, and sadly, I stuck around long enough for our eyes to meet on the way up.
She glared at me, brushing off her pants while judging every purchase I've made today. I know, Amy. I judge me too.
"Watch where you're going," She spat, mostly out of habit then any actual malice. She made to move past me, muttering about meeting her sister later when I made the horrific mistake of wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt today.
We made skin contact on her way past, and I thought nothing of it. Her eyes had mostly glossed over me when she saw me, so I had nothing to fear.
However, that changed when she turned around, my bad self already moving away, and grabbed my exposed arm again.
"You…" She said, and I turned around to face her. I couldn't say anything, but I really wanted her to know that I had a busy day scheduled, and wanted nothing to do with canon characters, "Why can't I see your…Wait."
Alas, it was not to be, as I tried to pull away. She gripped my arm tighter, really looked me in the eyes. I made my second mistake, allowing her to get a good look at me and not running for the hills with my new stuff.
"You're…I recognize you!"
Her eyes seemed to sharpen, memories coming back to her all at once. I made my third and final mistake, not switching powers to wipe her memory that instant, because her grip became a vice that I could no longer escape from without outing myself.
Not that it mattered anymore. She knew.
"You were that kid at the bank! Why couldn't I remember you until now?" She paused, leaning forward, "They said I took down the villains and I took the credit without thinking about it. But it was you, wasn't it? Who are you? Why are you here?"
To do my shopping, lady, please let go of my arm, I don't want cancer.
And like a shark smelling blood in the water, God decided to really go for the throat by introducing yet more problems.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"
The mall shook. People stopped in their tracks. Panacea let me go to look around, as the world rippled around us. To my dismay, I saw the straight line to the mall's entrance, just fifty meters away from the food court, close off with a semi-translucent silver barrier, going up and around the mall itself.
"Welcome to the latest episode of the Uber and Leet Show! I'm Uber!"
"And I'm Leet!"
"And we're especially proud to host our special guest star, Amy Dallon of New Wave! Say hi, Amy!"
I looked up as a golden spherical drone, the Snitch, buzzed around us, focusing on Amy especially. The girl herself looked bewildered, completely out of her element.
"Fuck you! I don't want to be a part of whatever this is, so let these people go!" Amy yelled.
"Oh, but the people of Brockton Bay deserve to see your wild side, Amy! Especially since we have proof that you weren't the only one kicking ass at Bay Central Bank weeks ago," Uber teased, his voice tinny, "Now Leet, why don't we show our special guest what game she'll be playing?"
Like clockwork, multiple flashes went off, startling the few civilians who were still around and not barricaded in the stores nearby. From them stepped rotting, moaning corpses, unarmed but shuffling dangerously. They moved sluggishly, their robotic nature clear. I counted ten of them, but something told me this was only the first wave.
"Your objective is to use the weapons we give you to save the civilians by doing what must be done! There's no Frank West here, buddy, no dashing hero here to save you," Leet cooed menacingly…somehow. "All that's left is your rage, your creativity, and a bunch of acceptable targets! Welcome to Dead Rising, folks! Try not to get creamed!"
My arms are full of clothes and I was pretty sure we were being streamed to all of Brockton Bay. This little attack on Amy's reputation as the peaceful healer ran the risk of outing me and it wasn't even my own fault this time. Whatever powers I summoned would have to be subtle if I intended to help, because if I summoned a Stranger power and suddenly became imperceptible, that would damn me.
Waves of robot zombies, a mall full of terrified civilians, and one very repressed healer with anger issues who possibly knew I was more than human. How could this get any stupider?
"Sponsored by He-Tap!"
Ah. There it is.