Chapter 9:
– Silas –
So… there I was. Standing in the middle of the Dallon family living room, trying not to sweat bullets while Victoria laughed like she was watching the best comedy of her life, Amy looked like she wanted to melt into the floor, and Carol was scowling at me with the kind of intensity that made even Endbringers look chill by comparison.
All of this, of course, because I panicked and—like a complete dumbass—blurted out the word "threesome" when Carol Dallon asked why I had her daughter's hero outfit in my inventory.
Yeah. Real smooth.
Carol didn't say anything right away. She just gave me that sharp, unreadable look, arms crossed, her expression frozen somewhere between stunned and disappointed. Amy let out a muffled groan and buried her face in both hands.
Victoria was dying. She was leaning on the back of the couch, giggling like she was about to collapse.
"Oh my God," Amy mumbled. "Why are you like this?" she shouted at me.
I just was...
Carol finally let out a long breath and turned to Amy instead of immediately stabbing me or something, which I figured was a good sign. "You're eighteen," she said with that clipped, lawyer-like tone. "You're free to sleep with whoever you want. That's your right. Just—" she paused, giving me a quick side-eye, "—not under my roof."
I blinked. Huh. That wasn't quite what I expected, but I wasn't complaining.
Amy let out an incredulous noise through her hands.
Vicky, meanwhile, perked right up. "Ooooh! Does that count for me too?" she asked brightly, flashing a grin and winking at me. I had no idea if she was flirting or just stirring the pot, but either way, she looked like she was enjoying herself way too much.
"No," Carol said flatly. "Absolutely not. Unlike you, Amy is usually the responsible one."
That made me blink. Okay, not what I expected to hear. In canon, Carol never trusted Amy with anything. Even Amy seemed stunned. She looked up slowly, blinking like her brain was buffering the statement. And then she smirked. Like full-on smug, right at Vicky.
"What?! That's not fair!" Vicky whined, spinning toward her mom. "Why does she get the responsible pass?! I'm the one with the good grades!"
Carol didn't flinch. "Grades don't mean much when you're sneaking around behind my back getting Amy to fix your little accidents."
Vicky froze. "Wha—what accidents?"
Carol folded her arms. "You think I didn't know? All those times you begged Amy to fix your little problems before I'd find out? I know exactly how many times you ran to your sister after screwing up with that ex of yours. How come you never used protection!?"
Vicky blanched. "Oh my God. Mom!"
My eyebrows went up. Ex-boyfriend, huh?
I glanced at Vicky Dallon. Interesting….
Vicky looked like she wanted to sink into the floor. Amy looked like she wanted to die from secondhand embarrassment.
Meanwhile, I was… just taking it all in? This family was wild. Wonder where the dad was during all this though…
Then Carol turned back to me. Her expression was sharp and almost unreadable, and I braced myself. "I'm going to say this once," she said, voice low and even. "You have my blessing to date my daughter. If that's what she wants. But if you get her pregnant without a ring on her finger, I will stab you." A golden hard light blade formed in her hand, perfectly solid and shimmering as she stared at me.
I swallowed. "Yes, ma'am…"
I took a second to recover from whatever that was all about…
I turned to Amy and winked. She just groaned and rolled her eyes like she couldn't believe she was still standing here. And then I raised my hand, summoning my system interface. The familiar translucent blue screen popped into existence.
I waved my hand and brought up my system interface again. The translucent blue screen flared to life in front of me, drawing immediate attention from all three women in the room. Carol and Vicky leaned forward slightly, eyes wide.
I reached in and pulled out her hero costume. The exact same one she'd been wearing back when we got yeeted into Skyrim. It materialized neatly in my hand, even folded properly.
Amy snatched it from me like I was holding her diary. "Thanks, I guess," she muttered, shooting me a quick stink eye. Her face was still red, but now it was more the annoyed kind of red than the flustered one.
Carol arched a brow, arms crossed. "That storage ability of yours seems useful. How much can you carry in there?"
I shrugged. "A lot, honestly. I haven't hit a limit yet, but I haven't exactly tested it to the extreme."
Before she could say anything, I reached in again, this time pulling out a thin book. A familiar one. The cover was black with glowing orange runes—Spell Tome: Flames.
Amy blinked as I held it out to her. "You're giving me more magic?" she asked.
I tilted my head. "More? Huh? You already have magic?"
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she held up her hand. A golden aura flickered to life around her fingers, glowing warm and steady. My jaw tightened a little. That was Skyrim healing magic!
"When the hell did that happen?" I asked.
Amy looked sheepish. "I found out after we got back. Cut myself on accident, freaked out, and—boom." She wiggled her fingers. "Turns out I can cast healing spells on myself now."
I blinked. That was news to me. I hadn't gotten a notification or anything. I didn't realize my party members got rewards from my quests. "Guess the system is more generous than I thought," I muttered. No wonder Vicky seemed so excited earlier…
While Amy turned her attention to the new spell tome, Vicky finally decided to snap out of her depression.
She stepped up beside me and casually pressed her body against my arm—specifically, the side with the most skin contact possible. I could feel the warmth of her chest through the ridiculously thin tank top she was wearing. The fabric was barely thicker than a sheet of paper. Her nipples were hard, and I felt every detail of them through it.
She leaned up and whispered right against my ear. "I really want to go with you next time. You know, wherever you end up… The two of us could have a great time together." She obviously wanted her own magic powers…
I turned red immediately. "I'll… think about it," I mumbled.
She giggled softly. "That's STILL not a no."
Before she could push her luck any further, Carol gave an exasperated sigh. "Victoria. Let go of him!"
Vicky huffed and stepped away, flouncing back over to the couch like she'd been wronged. She dropped onto it, then stretched her arms above her head with a loud yawn. Her already short tank top rode up, flashing her toned stomach, and the neckline dipped low enough that one good sneeze would probably pop a tit loose.
Amy let out a low hiss from behind me. I didn't need to turn to know she was glaring daggers at her sister.
Carol turned to me, shaking her head like she'd seen this routine a hundred times. "Apologies for my daughters," she said, voice tired. "Why don't we head into the kitchen to get the paperwork out of the way?"
I patted the side of my PRT-issued backpack. "Got everything with me."
Carol and I sat at the kitchen table with the PRT contract spread out in front of us. The sun had shifted slightly, casting long shadows through the blinds, but all I could really focus on was keeping up with the rapid-fire legal analysis coming out of her mouth.
She was good. Really good.
"This clause here?" she said, tapping a paragraph halfway down page three. "If you're ever injured in the line of duty, the PRT reserves the right to classify details of your treatment as confidential. That sounds fine on the surface, but it could mean they won't tell you everything they're doing to you if they bring in their own medics."
My eyebrows shot up. "Wait—seriously?"
She nodded, already pulling a pen from her blazer pocket and crossing the line out. "We'll remove that. You deserve full transparency with your own body. They've been known to experiment on capes before..."
I leaned back in my chair, exhaling. "Alright, yeah, definitely glad I asked for help with this."
Carol gave a small smile, professional but not cold. "Most people don't realize how many traps are buried in this kind of paperwork. Especially minors and young adults." She tapped her nails against the edge of the folder. "Piggot tried to make it look generous, but this reads like someone still covering her ass in case you go rogue."
I let out a low whistle. "So she's not as trusting as she acted when I first met her."
"No. But that doesn't mean she's unreasonable either," Carol added. "Just cautious."
To be fair, the contract wasn't bad overall. Carol tore through it like a machine, crossing out some terms, rewording others, making notes in the margins. I was being offered full medical, housing if I needed it, gear and logistics support—and a base salary of a hundred thousand a year. Not bad for someone who hadn't even figured out a hero name yet.
Carol hesitated when she read that part of the offer. I caught a slight flicker in her expression. It wasn't much—just a tiny twitch of her brow—but it made me pause. I got the feeling that amount of money probably meant something different to her family than it did to the PRT. Still, I didn't bring it up. Would've felt rude.
After the final page was signed and marked up with her edits, I leaned back and gave her a warm grin. "Thanks, Carol. I seriously appreciate the help. It's always good to have someone brilliant and beautiful in your corner."
She froze mid-reach for her coffee.
Then she looked up at me. "You're already trying to seduce both of my daughters," she said flatly. "And now you're aiming for me too?"
My face went hot instantly. "Shit—no, I didn't mean it like that. I swear. It just kinda came out."
Carol blinked slowly, then actually laughed. A soft, dry sound, but genuine. "...Relax. I've heard worse. Honestly, it's nice to be appreciated as a woman every once in a while." She said it quieter, almost under her breath.
I didn't respond to that. Didn't feel like I was meant to. I just gave her a respectful nod and stood, offering my hand. She shook it firmly, and I noticed how soft her hand felt in mine. That stuck with me more than I expected.
We stepped back into the living room together, and the moment we did, the sound of excited chatter hit us.
Vicky was sitting on the couch beside Amy, bouncing slightly in place as she clapped. "That's so badass!"
Amy sat next to her with her left hand raised, a soft, controlled flame hovering above her open palm. It danced steadily without flickering or spreading. She didn't seem burned at all. Her eyes were wide with concentration, and the smile on her face was brighter than I'd ever seen it.
She looked up at me as we walked in. "I figured it out," she said proudly. "The spell. It worked. I actually cast fire."
I grinned at her. "Guess you're a pyro now."
Amy rolled her eyes, but she couldn't hide the grin. "Thanks, Silas."
I was just about to head out, but before I did, Vicky made sure that I had the phone numbers of all three of them. She shot me a wink saying that she'd make sure Amy would text me properly later.
"And maybe I will too…" she giggled.
Carol just sighed and told me not to expect anything from her that wasn't about business. She gave me a flat look, clearly remembering just now in the kitchen.
I honestly wasn't trying to flirt with her earlier, it just came out of nowhere.
…Wait a second? I was a dragonborn now like Hildra. Was I developing the fabled "dragon rizz?" I had noticed that I'd been staring at girls a lot more than either my past selves usually did.
…
…The ride back to the Rig was quiet. The two PRT agents in the front didn't say much, which was fine by me. I wasn't really in the mood for small talk anyway. My brain was still reeling a bit from everything that had just happened at the Dallon house. Between Carol's lawyer-mode, Amy's almost meltdown, and Vicky being… well, Vicky, I was mentally tapped out.
When we finally pulled up to the Rig, I grabbed my backpack and slid out of the van. The air was cooler out here, the ocean breeze cutting through the lingering stress of the day. I stretched my arms out, cracking my neck.
Miss Militia was waiting for me just outside the main entrance. Full uniform, scarf in place, guns at her side. Her posture was as straight-backed and professional as ever, but there was a hint of awkwardness in the way her shoulders shifted when she saw me. Her eyes crinkled a little, which was the only part of her face I could see, but it was enough to read.
I knew exactly what that expression was about. Of course my brain picked that moment to flash back to that morning—me pressed against her back on the motorcycle, hands around her waist, and the very unfortunate boner situation that followed. Yeah. I remembered that awkward silence way too clearly.
Before I could say anything, she cleared her throat and spoke first. "There's someone here to meet you. Someone very important."
That immediately got my attention. I straightened up. "Important like…?"
She didn't answer directly. "Follow me."
That wasn't ominous at all.
We headed into the Rig, moving through several layers of security. Scanners, ID checks, biometric bullshit—all routine, but they still made me feel like I was walking into the Pentagon. Miss Militia didn't say another word as she led me deeper into the facility. Eventually, we stopped outside one of the meeting rooms I'd never been in before. She reached for the handle and paused, glancing back at me.
"Try not to be too nervous," she said. "And be respectful."
That did not help.
She opened the door.
I stepped inside—and immediately froze.
Sitting casually at the table, arms resting calmly in front of her, was a woman in a sleek black-and-blue costume. Her cape rested behind her chair like it had been arranged deliberately, and her helmet—iconic, clean, angular—hid most of her face, but there was no mistaking who she was.
Alexandria.
One of the goddamn Triumvirate. And the Illuminati.
I stared at her, mouth half-open. My heart thudded once, hard.
…I'm fucked.
– Kaiser –
Kaiser sat alone at the head of the long metal table, gloved fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair. He'd been waiting for twenty minutes.
The meeting was supposed to start ten ago. Hookwolf was often late—his attitude always skated close to disrespect—but this was different. None of them had shown. No Stormtiger, no Cricket, no Krieg. Not even Othala. The entire roster had ghosted him.
He clenched his jaw behind the cold steel of his helmet. His patience was wearing thin.
"Where the fuck is everyone?" he muttered under his breath, grinding his teeth.
The door to the chamber opened with a sharp clang.
"I told them not to come," a familiar voice said, cold and unbothered.
Kaiser's spine stiffened. He turned in his chair slowly as Iron Rain stepped into the room.
He stood slowly. "...You're back…"
She cocked her head slightly. "Surprised?"
Not nearly as surprised as he was pissed. He had sent her off to Gesellschaft under the pretense of building international alliances, but really, he'd hoped they'd keep her. Or lose her. Either was fine! Her being back was not good!
He forced a stiff nod. "Welcome home, sister."
Iron Rain strolled into the room like she owned it, ignoring his sarcasm entirely. "No point in having a meeting, Max," she said, using his real name just to needle him. "Talk is cheap. You've always been better at speeches than war."
Kaiser didn't reply immediately. Years ago, he'd tried to have her quietly eliminated. It hadn't worked. She thought the hit came from the undesirables. She went on a killing spree and nearly brought the PRT down on all of them, which had led to her being quietly shipped out to Europe before the chaos collapsed everything. He was still thankful she never found out it had been him.
And now she was back. Which meant she'd want to start up again. That wasn't good. The Empire had a good thing going right now. A slow, calculated expansion. No unnecessary heat. Minimal attention from the PRT.
"Your timing is just… complicated," he said carefully.
"I heard you lost Rune." She cut him off without a care.
His jaw clenched again. "Yes. That's why I called this meeting."
She made a dismissive sound. "And I'm sure it would've been riveting. A long talk about how the Empire can 'respond appropriately' while we wait for the media heat to die down."
"We lost a powerful asset," he reminded her.
"And you got your ass kicked by a black bitch Ward and some newbie cape," she snapped.
Kaiser's eyes narrowed behind his mask. He held up a hand quickly. "We don't know that Shadow Stalker's for sure is black..."
"Doesn't matter," she said flatly. "She's fucked with the Empire too many times! And now this new one—Silas Thorn, right? That's the one who took Rune down? His identity is completely public already."
Kaiser nodded slowly. "Yes. I was going to propose something different, actually. He's new. He's obviously been led astray by heroic propaganda. We could approach him. Show him the truth of the world and have him join us. His blonde hair and blue eyed look would win us a lot of points."
Iron Rain tilted her head. "You would forgive someone who made you look weak just like that?"
"It was a misunderstanding. Rune escalated—"
"I don't give a shit what she did," she snapped. "The fact is, WE looked weak! Now the entire Bay's laughing at us. I say we remind them who runs this city."
Kaiser felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Telling her no would be a mistake. She might've been his sister, but in a direct fight, she'd win. She always had. She was always dear ol' daddy's favorite for a reason…
Fuck…
"What exactly do you have planned?" he asked with a sigh.
Iron Rain turned to face him fully. "We send a message. A very public, very loud message. One they won't forget…"
XXX