Chapter 2:
– Alexandria –
Alexandria—Rebecca, as her "friends" called her—sat in her office, staring at the secure terminal screen as she connected to the encrypted video conference. Moments later, the familiar faces of Eidolon, Legend, and Contessa appeared in separate panels.
"We've got a serious issue," Alexandria began immediately, wasting no time on pleasantries. "I just received a priority message from the PRT Director in Brockton Bay. Panacea has gone missing from the hospital."
Eidolon immediately frowned deeply, leaning forward with an intense look of concern. "Shit," he muttered, clearly frustrated. "She's literally the best healer we have. We can't afford to lose her—especially not with an Endbringer attack coming up."
Legend's expression darkened as well. "Do we have any idea what happened to her yet?" he asked calmly, though Alexandria could see the worry beneath his composed exterior.
Alexandria shook her head slightly. "No, not yet. The situation is still developing. Immediately after this call, I'm conferencing with Brockton Bay PRT command and the members of New Wave. But first, I wanted to loop you all in and get your initial thoughts."
There was a brief pause as all eyes slowly shifted toward Contessa—the most powerful thinker alive. Annoyingly, Contessa seemed entirely oblivious, munching absentmindedly on a glazed donut while scrolling casually through something off-screen.
Alexandria cleared her throat sharply, her irritation growing. "Contessa?"
Contessa glanced up, entirely unbothered. She raised an eyebrow, finishing off her donut deliberately before sipping slowly and dramatically from a large coffee cup. Alexandria's jaw clenched tighter with every passing second.
Finally, Contessa placed her cup down and sighed. "Sorry," she said casually, clearly unrepentant. "I've been awake for over twenty-four hours straight, managing multiple Paths across multiple Earths simultaneously. So many things to keep track of—people to kill, people to save—honestly, it's exhausting. Remind me, what's the question again?"
Alexandria rubbed at her temples, exasperated. "Panacea," she said sharply. "We're talking about Panacea. She's missing."
The woman known worldwide as the cape community's most feared bogeyman tilted her head slightly, utterly unimpressed. "Oh, her. She'll be fine," Contessa said dismissively. "She'll reappear within a day or two, along with the cape who took her."
Alexandria was about to ask for clarification when Contessa abruptly froze mid-sentence, her eyes going wide with shock. Her jaw practically dropped, the casual demeanor instantly replaced by astonishment. "Wow," she muttered quietly to herself, clearly stunned by something she'd just perceived through her power.
"What's 'wow'?" Legend asked, concern evident in his voice.
Contessa slowly smiled, genuine excitement overtaking her previous disinterest. "Our odds of victory and of surviving the final battle just shot up astronomically…"
Eidolon leaned closer, suddenly alert. "Define 'astronomically,'" he demanded sharply. "Last I checked, we were hovering around thirteen percent for a total victory."
Alexandria grimaced slightly at the blunt reminder. She hated hearing how pitiful their odds were against Scion—trillions of lives and countless alternate Earths riding on a goddamn roll of the dice. And a bad roll at that…
Contessa's grin widened further, nearly triumphant. "We just jumped to a forty-seven and a half percent chance of total victory."
"What?" Alexandria blurted in shock, momentarily forgetting herself. Beside her on-screen, Legend and Eidolon looked equally stunned, both men staring slack-jawed at the casual revelation.
Eidolon recovered first, narrowing his eyes in disbelief. "That's impossible," he insisted harshly. "How the hell could our odds suddenly quadruple?"
Contessa's grin refused to fade. "Because whoever this new cape is—or whatever he is, if he's not a traditional trigger—he just became the single most important cape on this planet." Her tone carried a note of genuine excitement Alexandria rarely heard from the enigmatic woman.
Eidolon visibly bristled at that statement, scowling bitterly. Alexandria suppressed a weary sigh, David always hated losing his spot as the most important person in the room.
Still, Alexandria pushed those internal frustrations aside, refocusing on the mission at hand. She had questions—questions that demanded immediate answers. Whoever this cape was, whatever he'd done to vanish with Panacea in tow, Alexandria knew she needed to find him, now. He might be the key they desperately needed!
"We'll discuss this later, Contessa," Alexandria said curtly, already reaching for the control panel. "I'm conferencing with Brockton Bay and New Wave right now. Keep me updated if anything else changes."
Contessa gave a relaxed salute, clearly enjoying the chaos she'd caused. "Will do, boss."
Alexandria disconnected the call sharply, leaning back in her chair with a heavy exhale. Forty-seven percent—still not great, but significantly better than before. Now all she needed to do was track down this mysterious new cape, convince Panacea's family not to panic, and figure out what the hell just happened in Brockton Bay.
Just another fucking day at the office of the secretly most powerful woman on the planet…
…
With a quiet sigh, Alexandria removed her iconic helmet, placing it carefully on the corner of her desk. She tapped a small switch built discreetly into the side of her monitor, triggering a subtle holographic overlay. Instantly, her appearance shifted slightly—enough to transform her from Alexandria, the invincible cape, into Rebecca Costa-Brown, respected Director of the PRT.
She straightened her posture and initiated the next encrypted video call, watching as the large monitor before her divided into two distinct panels. The left side revealed Director Emily Piggot, looking as exhausted and grim as always, alongside Armsmaster, stoic and composed in full armor. On the right panel, a few members of New Wave appeared—Brandish, Lady Photon, and Glory Girl, whose anxious energy practically radiated through the screen.
"Good evening, Director," Armsmaster spoke first, nodding politely. "Thank you for responding so quickly."
"My sister's missing!" Glory Girl burst out immediately, unable to contain herself. Both Brandish and Lady Photon turned sharply toward her at once, hissing softly to shush her. Glory Girl sank back, looking embarrassed. "Sorry," she mumbled sheepishly.
Rebecca waved off the interruption, offering a reassuring but professional smile. "No need to apologize, Glory Girl. Actually, since you're our primary witness, I'd prefer hearing the details directly from you."
Emily Piggot nodded sharply. "Agreed. I'd also like to hear exactly what happened."
Glory Girl straightened up again, clearly relieved. She took a deep breath and began to recount her story. "Well, I'd gone to Brockton General like usual to pick up Amy after her shift. She only had one patient left to heal—a guy named Silas. Cute guy, pretty funny too. Amy healed him mostly. I think he had a fractured skull or something. Anyway, she couldn't fix his concussion because, y'know, Amy doesn't heal brains." Glory Girl paused briefly, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "We might've spent a bit too long flirting with him, honestly—"
Rebecca rolled her eyes subtly, quickly cutting her off. "Focus, Glory Girl."
The young heroine blushed, glancing at Brandish, who was shooting her a warning look. "Right, sorry," she continued. "Anyway, suddenly we heard a huge commotion downstairs. Turns out it was a newer gang called the Poppers. They're drug addicts who specialize in prescription pills instead of street stuff. They raided the hospital to steal medications, I guess."
"I engaged immediately," Glory Girl said proudly, puffing out her chest slightly. "I took down all of them in the lobby, no civilians or staff were hurt."
Lady Photon gave her niece an approving smile. "Good job, Vicky."
Brandish sighed quietly, muttering under her breath, "At least we don't have to worry about collateral damages this time."
Glory Girl pouted at her mother briefly before continuing. "Anyway, right after that, I heard gunshots coming from upstairs—from Amy's floor. I flew straight up, breaking through a couple windows to get there faster—"
"Dammit, Vicky," Brandish interrupted, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.
Glory Girl winced apologetically. "Sorry, Mom. Anyway, by the time I got back upstairs, Amy and Silas were both gone. There were just two gang members in the room. I, uh, interrogated them."
Rebecca raised an eyebrow slightly. "Interrogated?"
"I beat them up," Glory Girl admitted sheepishly. "But I got them to talk! They said Silas had somehow triggered with powers—maybe a teleportation ability or something—and disappeared with Amy right before the Poppers were about to shoot them."
Armsmaster visibly stiffened in shock. "They intended to shoot Panacea? Don't they realize killing the world's best healer would turn every cape on Earth against them?"
Lady Photon shook her head coldly. "Drug addicts in this city aren't exactly known for making smart decisions."
Rebecca turned to Piggot, her expression thoughtful. "Emily, Armsmaster—do we have any additional information on this 'Silas'?"
"He's really handsome," Glory Girl piped up again helpfully. "And funny."
Brandish sighed wearily. "Yes, dear, you've already mentioned that."
"Oh, right," Glory Girl murmured, sinking into her chair slightly.
"One moment," Armsmaster said, quickly typing into a side terminal. After a brief pause, he nodded slightly and began reading from the file on-screen. "Silas Thorn, eighteen years old. Currently a senior at Winslow High. Lives alone after being legally emancipated at sixteen. His file mentions a history of family troubles, but no criminal record or even minor disciplinary issues. Decent grades, quiet student, no notable incidents until now." Armsmaster paused, clearly thinking. "Given the circumstances, it seems likely this was a classic trigger event—he awoke a teleportation or mover-type power under extreme duress. My guess is that wherever he teleported himself and Panacea, they're currently safe. Probably."
Rebecca nodded, deciding to carefully reveal a bit more. "For what it's worth, one of our most reliable Thinkers has already confirmed that Panacea should resurface unharmed within a day or two."
Glory Girl's expression quickly shifted to indignation. "Are you kidding me? Amy gets to have some crazy adventure with a hot new cape while I'm stuck going to school? So unfair…"
Lady Photon shook her head softly, while Brandish looked like she was actively resisting the urge to scold her daughter again.
Piggot ignored Glory Girl's outburst entirely, focusing sharply on Rebecca. "Director, given the importance of Panacea and the trigger of this Silas Thorn, how do you want to handle this?"
Forty-seven and a half percent….
The number echoed firmly in Rebecca's mind as she carefully considered her next words. "I want Silas Thorn recruited into the Wards immediately, no matter what." A few years ago, they raised the maximum age for joining the Wards to twenty. It was a good decision in hindsight that had lowered heroic deaths by quite a large margin. It turned out that 18-year-olds were stupid as hell, and making them full members of the protectorate was never a good idea.
Emily Piggot raised an eyebrow slightly. "Are we certain he'd accept a position in the Wards…?"
Rebecca didn't hesitate to continue. "I don't care. I want you to make it happen."
Piggot nodded slowly, but still looked a bit annoyed. "Very well. As soon as Panacea and Silas surface, I'll send Armsmaster personally to extend the offer..."
Rebecca nodded in approval. "Good. Keep me updated."
Finding Silas Thorn and securing his cooperation was now one of the highest priorities for the PRT. She disconnected the call with a sigh, leaning back heavily into her chair. Recruiting an unknown, newly triggered teenager into the Wards was never easy—but if Contessa's prediction was correct, Silas Thorn was now essential to their survival. Rebecca knew better than anyone what was at stake.
She would not let this opportunity slip away.
– Panacea –
"Ugh...Fuck me," Panacea muttered bitterly under her breath.
She slowly pushed herself up from the ground, brushing dirt off her palms.
Dirt? She paused, confused, staring down at the rough earth beneath her fingertips. Why the hell was there dirt instead of hospital tiles?
She looked around, her confusion rapidly turning into shock. She was standing in the middle of a dense forest, surrounded by thick trees and underbrush that stretched endlessly in all directions.
"What the fuck happened?" Amy said aloud, desperately trying to piece things together. Her memory was fuzzy, but fragments quickly rushed back: Silas in the hospital bed, two gun-wielding assholes from the Poppers gang breaking into the room, a strange glowing screen floating in midair, and then—
"Oh shit," she whispered, eyes widening as realization struck. "Did Silas trigger right in front of me?"
It made sense. She remembered him standing up despite his injuries, stubbornly telling the thugs he wasn't letting them take her. Then the flash of brilliant white light. Now, suddenly, she was in a goddamn forest.
Definitely some kind of teleportation power.
Amy scanned the area, worry gripping her chest until she spotted Silas lying unconscious a few feet away. She groaned softly, both relieved he was still alive and annoyed that he was completely out cold when she desperately needed answers.
"Of course you're unconscious," she muttered sarcastically, kneeling beside him to check for injuries. She placed a gentle hand on his chest, letting her powers flow into him to assess the damage. Amy grimaced when she realized Silas's concussion had worsened significantly. If left untreated, he wouldn't wake up anytime soon.
Oddly, though, something felt off.
She frowned, reaching deeper, searching for the familiar corona pollentia—the source of power she'd sensed in every cape she'd healed before. Strangely, there was nothing. Either Silas's power was different from anything she'd encountered, or his corona was somehow invisible to her power.
"Great," Amy sighed, glancing around nervously at the looming trees. She hated breaking her own rules, especially her strict policy about not healing brains. But they were stranded in the middle of fucking nowhere. If Silas really was a Mover, he might be their only chance of getting home alive. Before she starved to death, because she had never been a girl scout and there was no way in hell she was going to survive in the middle of the woods on her own.
"Fuck it," she finally decided, pressing her palm more firmly against Silas's forehead. "I'll just pretend this never happened." Just like all the times she healed the criminals that her sister Vicky almost beat to death.
It took her only seconds to repair the damage to Silas's brain, reversing the concussion completely. She withdrew her hand quickly, feeling uncomfortable at having crossed her personal line, even if nobody else ever found out.
Amy took a deep breath, shaking off the guilt, and was just about to wake Silas when the sound of movement suddenly reached her ears. She froze instantly, heart hammering in her chest. Something large—no, multiple large somethings—were approaching quickly through the trees.
"Oh fuck," she whispered, her voice tight with anxiety. "What now?"
Within moments, a group of riders emerged from the trees, mounted on massive horses. They were large, rough-looking men clad entirely in red and grey armor, each one armed with a sword. Their hostile eyes immediately settled on Amy and Silas, suspicion and hostility clear in their stares.
Amy stood defensively, heart pounding as one of the riders urged his horse closer, looking down at her with obvious disdain.
"Trying to cross the border illegally, are you?" the armored man barked roughly, drawing his sword with a metallic scrape and pointing it directly at her. "You're under arrest, girl."
Amy stared at him incredulously, momentarily too stunned to respond. Arrested? Border? What the hell was this guy talking about?
She glanced back down at Silas, still frustratingly unconscious, and grumbled quietly under her breath, her frustration boiling over.
"Fuck."
– Silas –
I felt like I was gently rocking from side to side, my body swaying with a slow, rhythmic movement. Strangely enough, my head felt a lot clearer. The fog from earlier was completely gone. Instead, vivid memories rushed back into my mind—far more detailed than before—filling in gaps I hadn't even realized were there.
Wait...what the fuck was going on?
Two entirely different sets of memories collided sharply in my brain, both equally clear. It almost felt like I'd died and reincarnated into some alternate version of myself—or merged with him, somehow. One part of me clearly remembered a life as Silas Thorn, senior at Winslow High in the absolute shithole city known as Brockton Bay. A city that, until today, I'd firmly believed was pure fiction. Apparently, that wasn't the case anymore, because I had eighteen fucking years' worth of memories from living there.
Then there was the other set, fuzzier but persistent—memories of going to university, of reading web novels and fanfiction, even memories of playing video games and shit-posting online. I was fairly certain those memories belonged to the 'original' me, but it was damn hard to tell anymore.
Either way, I was Silas Thorn now, and Brockton Bay was apparently very real. Except there were a few inconsistencies with the original Worm story I'd once read. Amy and Vicky, for instance—they definitely weren't teenagers here. They both looked older—maybe eighteen, nineteen? And if I was honest, way hotter than I'd expected.
Slowly, my senses returned to normal, and reality finally sank in as I cautiously opened my eyes. Holy shit—I was actually in Worm. And somehow I'd triggered with powers. Not bad for an average day, right?
Unfortunately, that feeling of excitement didn't last long.
My eyes adjusted to my surroundings, and I immediately realized something was very, very wrong. I was sitting in a slow-moving wooden cart, wrists tightly bound with rope. Around me were several strangers in rough-looking clothes, also tied up, looking just as miserable and confused as I felt.
Sitting directly across from me was Panacea—Amy—also tied and looking absolutely fucking furious. Next to her sat a large, muscular guy wearing battered blue armor, a look of grim resignation on his face.
"What the fuck…?" I mumbled under my breath, testing the ropes binding my wrists. Yup, securely tied. "Amy? You okay?"
She shot me a glare sharp enough to cut glass. "Do I fucking look okay to you, Silas?"
Fair enough.
A soft groan beside me drew my attention. A strikingly beautiful woman with long, tangled blonde hair was slowly coming to consciousness, tied just like the rest of us. She wore dirty, ragged clothing that barely covered her impressive figure, and she clutched her head painfully as she woke up.
Just as I was about to say something reassuring—or maybe just ask her where the hell we were—the man in blue armor across from us sighed heavily, looking at me with weary eyes.
"Hey, you two," he said, voice deep and tired. "You're finally awake."
I blinked slowly, a sinking feeling gripping my chest as he continued.
"You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush. Same as us—and that thief over there."
My brain momentarily froze at those iconic words.
No fucking way.
Hadn't I literally just been in Worm, stuck in Brockton Bay with a goddamn concussion a second ago? How the hell had I ended up in fucking Skyrim?
Before I could panic—or maybe laugh hysterically—a glowing blue screen popped into existence directly in front of my face, causing everyone around me to gasp and mutter nervously.
[Tutorial Quest Initiated: You and your partner must survive the tutorial and slay a dragon! Rewards will be distributed based on performance and heroic deeds accomplished.]
"Oh, shit," I muttered quietly to myself, feeling my heart drop into my stomach. Apparently I hadn't dreamed up the fact that I had awoken some kind of System as well…
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