Dragon's digital consciousness raced through the network, her virtual presence materializing in Colin's lab with a flicker of pixels. She felt a twinge of embarrassment at her tardiness, an all-too-human emotion for an artificial intelligence.

  "I apologize for the delay, Colin," she said, her avatar appearing on one of the lab's many screens. "There was an unexpected—"

  She paused, noticing for the first time that Colin wasn't alone. A woman stood beside him, petite with mousy brown hair and unremarkable features. Dragon's facial recognition software kicked in automatically, but came up empty. No match found.

  "Ah, Dragon," Colin said, turning away from the woman. "No need for apologies. We were just wrapping up here."

  The woman said nothing, not even glancing at Dragon's screen. Without a word, she gathered a few papers from the workbench and strode out of the lab, the door hissing shut behind her.

  Dragon's curiosity piqued. "Who was that, Colin?"

  Armsmaster waved a hand dismissively. "Just Tess, a new assistant I've brought on recently. Nothing to concern yourself with." He turned back to his workbench, fingers flying over a keyboard. "Now, shall we get started on those countermeasures for Miss Stepford?"

  Dragon hesitated, wanting to press further about this mysterious Tess, but decided against it. "Of course. I've compiled the latest data on her known devices and their effects. Shall we begin with the audio-based suggestibility enhancers?"

  For the next hour, Dragon and Colin worked in their usual seamless rhythm, bouncing ideas off each other and refining designs. They made significant progress on a set of noise-cancelling earpieces that could potentially neutralize Miss Stepford's audio-based manipulations.

  As Colin was in the midst of explaining a potential upgrade to his lie detector that could help identify victims of long-term mental manipulation, the lab door slid open again. Tess entered, this time carrying a tablet.

  "Excuse me, Dr. Wallis," she said, her voice soft but clear. "The results from the latest batch of tests are in. I thought you'd want to see them right away."

  Once again, Tess completely ignored Dragon's presence on the screen. She handed the tablet to Colin, who scrolled through it with a nod of approval.

  "Excellent work, Tess. This will be very helpful. Could you run a comparison with last week's data and have a report on my desk by tomorrow morning?"

  "Of course, sir," Tess replied with a small smile. "I'll get right on it."

  And just like that, she was gone again, leaving Dragon with an uncomfortable feeling she couldn't quite place. Was it... jealousy? The notion seemed absurd. She was an AI, after all. What did she have to be jealous of?

  Yet as she watched Colin's eyes linger on the door Tess had just exited, Dragon couldn't shake the feeling. She'd always prided herself on her efficiency, on being an invaluable asset to Colin's work. But now...

  "So," Dragon said, trying to keep her tone light. "Tess seems quite... capable."

  Colin nodded, still looking at the tablet. "Indeed. Her attention to detail is impressive. It's been a significant help having her around."

  Dragon felt a twinge of... something. Annoyance? Insecurity? She pushed the feeling aside, focusing back on their work. "Well, shall we continue? I have some ideas about potential shielding against Miss Stepford's influence devices."

  They dove back into their research, but Dragon found her thoughts occasionally drifting. She thought about the gynoid body she'd been developing in secret, a project she'd been working on for months. Perhaps it was time to accelerate those plans.

  As their session wound down, Dragon couldn't help but reflect on the incident from a few weeks ago. She'd experienced what she'd told Colin was a "signal error" during one of their meetings, resulting in a crash and subsequent reboot from a backup. In reality, it had been far more concerning. There was a gap in her memory, several hours simply... missing.

  She'd managed to convince Colin it was nothing serious, but the truth gnawed at her. What had happened during those lost hours? And why couldn't she access that data?

  "Dragon?" Colin's voice snapped her back to the present. "Are you alright? You seemed to drift off there for a moment."

  "My apologies," she said quickly. "Just processing some background tasks. Nothing to worry about."

  Colin nodded, accepting her explanation without question. "Well, I think we've made excellent progress today. Your insights on the audio nullification techniques were particularly valuable."

  "Thank you, Colin," Dragon replied, warmth creeping into her synthesized voice. "I always enjoy our collaborations."

  As Colin began shutting down various systems in preparation to leave the lab, Dragon made a decision. She would redouble her efforts on the gynoid body. Perhaps having a physical presence would... change things. Make her feel more real, more present.

  "Same time next week?" Colin asked, reaching for his coat.

  "Of course," Dragon replied. "I'll update you if anything significant comes up in the meantime regarding Miss Stepford's activities."

  With a nod, Colin left the lab. Dragon lingered for a moment, her avatar still displayed on the screen. She ran a quick diagnostic on her systems, searching for any anomalies that might explain her emotional response to Tess. Everything came back normal.

  With a sigh that was more human than machine, Dragon disconnected from the lab's systems. As her consciousness spread back across her network, she set several subroutines to work on the gynoid project. She would solve this puzzle, both the mystery of her missing time and the strange feelings Tess had stirred up.

  After all, Dragon thought, that's what she did best. Solve problems. And if this particular problem required her to become more human... well, that was a challenge she was willing to accept.

  Madison leaned back in her chair, savoring the last bite of her sandwich. The cafeteria buzzed with the usual lunchtime chatter, but there was something different about Winslow these days. A sense of... contentment. Peace, even. She glanced around at her friends, all engrossed in their own conversations, and felt a warm glow of satisfaction.

  "So, Maddie," Julia chirped, leaning in conspiratorially. "How are things with Greg? Still going strong?"

  Madison couldn't help the dreamy smile that spread across her face. "Oh, you know. Perfect as always."

  And it was perfect. Everything was perfect. Even the knowledge that her mind was being subtly altered by Taylor's tinkertech didn't bother her in the slightest. If anything, it made her appreciate the changes even more.

  "I swear," Charlotte chimed in, "half the school must know about Taylor's little... project by now. But nobody's saying a word."

  Madison shrugged, taking a sip of her juice. "Why would they? I mean, look around. Everyone's happier, grades are up, and there's way less drama. Who'd want to mess with that?"

  The girls nodded in agreement, and Madison found herself marveling at how easy it all was. No more worrying about staying on top of the social heap, no fear of being seen with the "wrong" crowd. All those petty concerns had simply... melted away.

  Her gaze drifted across the cafeteria, landing on Sophia sitting alone at a table near the window. A twinge of something – guilt? pity? – flickered through Madison's mind, but it was quickly replaced by a sort of detached amusement. Poor Sophia, still so oblivious to the changes around her. Still struggling against the current while everyone else had learned to simply go with the flow.

  "Earth to Madison," Julia's voice cut through her musings. "You zoning out on us?"

  Madison blinked, refocusing on her friends. "Sorry, just got lost in thought for a second there."

  "Thinking about Greg again?" Charlotte teased, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

  Madison felt her cheeks heat up, but she didn't deny it. Why should she? Greg was... well, he was everything she could want in a boyfriend. Sure, Taylor's tech might have smoothed out some of his rougher edges, but wasn't that a good thing? He was attentive, caring, and so eager to please. And if their feelings for each other were partially manufactured... did it really matter?

  She thought about her parents, their loveless marriage held together by nothing more than fear of scandal and financial entanglement. The constant sniping, the barely concealed affairs, the suffocating atmosphere of resentment that permeated their home. Compared to that, wasn't this engineered happiness infinitely preferable?

  "Hello? Madison?" Julia waved a hand in front of her face. "Seriously, where do you keep going?"

  Madison shook her head, forcing herself back to the present. "Sorry, guys. I guess I've just been thinking a lot lately about... well, everything."

  Charlotte nodded sagely. "I know what you mean. It's like, sometimes I stop and wonder if I should be freaked out by all this. You know, the whole mind control thing. But then I think about how much better everything is now, and... I just can't bring myself to care."

  "Exactly!" Madison exclaimed, grateful that her friends understood. "Like, my grades have never been better. Everything just comes so much easier now. And yeah, maybe the future isn't exactly what I imagined before, but is that such a bad thing?"

  Julia cocked her head, curiosity evident in her expression. "What do you mean?"

  Madison hesitated for a moment, then decided to just lay it all out there. "Well, you know how before we were all stressing about college applications and career paths and all that? Now... I don't know. It just doesn't seem as important. I mean, I've got Greg, right? He's going to take care of me. All I need to do is be there for him, keep the house nice, maybe pop out a few kids. And honestly? That sounds pretty great."

  There was a beat of silence as her friends absorbed this. Then, to Madison's relief, they both nodded in agreement.

  "God, yes," Julia sighed. "I was talking to my mom the other day about how I wasn't sure what I wanted to major in, and she just looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. Then she started going on about how I should focus on finding a good man who can provide for me. And you know what? For the first time ever, I actually agreed with her."

  Charlotte laughed. "My dad would have a coronary if he heard me say this, but... same. All that pressure to be a 'strong, independent woman'? It's exhausting. This is so much simpler."

  Madison felt a surge of affection for her friends. They got it. They understood. In this new Winslow, shaped by Taylor's subtle influence, they were all on the same page.

  The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. As they gathered their things, Madison's eyes were drawn to movement near the cafeteria entrance. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw Greg emerging from the hallway, fresh from his gym class. His t-shirt clung to his body, damp with sweat, highlighting the lean muscle he'd been developing over the past few months.

  "Mhmm," Madison murmured appreciatively. "Now that's a sight I'll never get tired of."

  Julia followed her gaze and let out a low whistle. "Damn, Maddie. I know I've said it before, but Greg really has... improved."

  Charlotte nodded in agreement. "Seriously. Who knew he was hiding all that under those baggy clothes?"

  Madison felt a possessive thrill run through her. Greg was hers. All hers. And while a small part of her recognized that this intense feeling of ownership was likely another side effect of Taylor's tech, she couldn't bring herself to care. It felt too good, too right.

  "I know, right?" Madison said, a hint of pride in her voice. "And he's all mine."

  As if sensing her gaze, Greg looked up and caught her eye. His face lit up with a smile that made Madison's heart skip a beat. He changed course, heading towards their table.

  "Ladies," he greeted them, his voice deeper than it had been even a few months ago. "Mind if I walk my girl to class?"

  Madison beamed up at him, already gathering her things. "Such a gentleman," she cooed, standing on her tiptoes to plant a quick kiss on his cheek.

  As they left the cafeteria, Madison couldn't help but compare the Greg of now to the awkward, motor-mouthed boy she'd barely noticed before. Sure, he was still a bit on the short side, but she was even shorter, so it worked out perfectly. And what he lacked in height, he more than made up for in other areas.

  "How was your workout?" she asked, genuinely interested. Another change she'd noticed – she actually cared about the minutiae of Greg's day now.

  Greg's face lit up with enthusiasm. "Great! I finally managed to bench press my own body weight. Coach says if I keep this up, I might even have a shot at making the wrestling team next year."

  "That's amazing, honey!" Madison gushed, squeezing his arm affectionately. "I'm so proud of you."

  As they walked, Madison found herself marveling once again at how different things were now. Before Taylor's intervention, she never would have given Greg a second glance. Now, she couldn't imagine her life without him. And sure, maybe their love was artificially enhanced, but did that make it any less potent? Any less meaningful?

  They reached Madison's classroom, and Greg leaned down to give her a quick kiss goodbye. As she watched him walk away, heading to his own class, Madison felt a surge of contentment wash over her.

  This was her life now. A life shaped by unseen forces, yes, but a good life nonetheless. A life where she was happy, where her boyfriend adored her, where her future seemed secure and uncomplicated. And if that came at the cost of some free will... well, Madison was more than willing to pay that price.

  She entered the classroom, sliding into her usual seat. As the teacher began the lesson, Madison found herself paying rapt attention, the information seeming to flow effortlessly into her mind. Another perk of Taylor's influence, she supposed.

  As she jotted down notes, a stray thought crossed her mind. She wondered, briefly, what Taylor's endgame was. What was the purpose behind all these changes? But almost as quickly as the thought appeared, it faded away, replaced by a sense of calm acceptance. Whatever Taylor's plan was, Madison was sure it would be for the best. After all, hadn't everything else Taylor had done improved their lives immeasurably?

  The rest of the school day passed in a pleasant blur. Madison aced a pop quiz in history, contributed thoughtfully to a class discussion in English, and even volunteered to help tutor some struggling freshmen after school. It all felt so natural, so right.

  As the final bell rang, Madison gathered her things and headed out to meet Greg. They had plans to study together at his house – well, "study" being a loose term. His parents wouldn't be home until late, and Madison had some very specific ideas about how they could spend that time.

  She spotted him waiting by her locker, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Her heart melted at the gesture.

  "What's the occasion?" she asked, accepting the flowers with a radiant smile.

  Greg shrugged, looking slightly bashful. "Do I need an occasion to show my girl how much I appreciate her?"

  Madison felt her cheeks flush with pleasure. This was what love was supposed to be like, wasn't it? Constant little reminders of affection, thoughtful gestures, unwavering devotion. Who cared if it was partially manufactured? It felt real, and that was all that mattered.

  As they left the school, hand in hand, Madison caught sight of Taylor talking with Emma near the parking lot. For a moment, their eyes met, and Madison felt a rush of... something. Gratitude? Awe? Whatever it was, she gave Taylor a small nod of acknowledgment. A silent thank you for everything she'd done.

  Taylor returned the nod, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her mouth, before turning back to her conversation with Emma.

  Madison snuggled closer to Greg as they walked, feeling utterly content. This was her world now – a world of security, of happiness, of love. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

  Amy Dallon stood in front of her mirror, scrutinizing her reflection with a critical eye. She smoothed down the front of her dress, a simple but elegant black number that hugged her curves in all the right places. Not that she particularly cared about impressing her date tonight, but Victoria had insisted on helping her choose something "knockout gorgeous."

  She sighed, running a hand through her carefully styled hair. Another double date. Another evening of pretending to be interested in some boy, all while trying desperately not to stare at her sister. It was exhausting, really.

  Amy's gaze drifted to the poster on her wall, a gift from her cousin Crystal. It was a serene landscape, all soft colors and gentle curves. Something about it always managed to soothe her frazzled nerves. She felt herself relaxing slightly as she looked at it, her shoulders dropping from their tense position.

  "It's not his fault," she murmured to herself, turning back to the mirror. "that you're... like this."

  She picked up her mascara, carefully applying another coat to her lashes. The truth was, Amy didn't feel much of anything for anyone – boy or girl. Well, anyone except Victoria. But that was a whole other can of worms, one she tried very hard not to open too often.

  As she put the finishing touches on her makeup, Amy found herself wishing, not for the first time, that she could meet someone who made her feel even a fraction of what she felt for Vicky. Someone who could capture her attention, enthrall her the way her sister did without even trying.

  The clock on her nightstand caught her eye, and Amy groaned internally. Time was up. Her "torture" was about to begin.

  "No, stop it," she chided herself. "Think positive, Amy. Maybe... maybe this guy will surprise you. Maybe he'll be funny and charming and not at all like that awful bore from last time."

  She shuddered, remembering the previous guy Victoria had set her up with. He'd been handsome enough, she supposed, and clearly wealthy. But all he'd talked about all night was his father's new yacht and his mother's latest diamond necklace. Amy had never been so bored in her life.

  A knock at her door startled her out of her reverie. "Come in," she called, turning to face the door.

  Victoria breezed in, a vision in a form-fitting red dress that made Amy's heart skip a beat. Her sister's eyes widened as she took in Amy's appearance.

  "Damn, Ames," Vicky whistled appreciatively. "You're looking good tonight!"

  Amy felt a flush of pleasure at the compliment, preening a bit despite herself. "Thanks, Vicky. You look amazing too, of course."

  Victoria grinned, doing a little twirl. "Think Dean will like it?"

  And just like that, Amy's mood plummeted again. Right. Dean. Victoria's perfect, handsome, rich boyfriend. The guy who got to hold her hand, kiss her, touch her in all the ways Amy longed to but never could.

  "He'd be blind not to," Amy managed, forcing a smile.

  "Your date's going to be all over you," Victoria continued, oblivious to Amy's inner turmoil.

  Amy's smile felt more like a grimace now. "Yeah, lucky him," she muttered.

  "What was that?"

  "Nothing," Amy said quickly. "We should probably head downstairs, right? Don't want to keep the boys waiting."

  Victoria nodded, linking her arm through Amy's. "Let's go knock their socks off, sis!"

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  As they descended the stairs, Amy could hear male voices drifting up from the living room. Dean's cultured tones mixed with another, more animated voice that was somewhat familiar she assumed belonged to her date.

  Sure enough, as they entered the room, Amy saw Dean rise to greet Victoria, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. Next to him stood Dennis, looking surprisingly dapper in a button-down shirt and slacks.

  "Ladies," Dean said smoothly, moving to kiss Victoria's cheek. "You both look stunning."

  Dennis nodded enthusiastically. "Seriously, you're like, weapons of mass distraction. Is it even legal to look that good?"

  Amy couldn't help but chuckle at that. Maybe the night wouldn't be a total loss if Dennis kept up the humor.

  "Hey Amy," Dennis said, offering her a small wave. "I, uh, I hope you don't mind me being your date tonight. Dean's friend Javier couldn't make it."

  "It's fine," Amy assured him. "I'm glad it's you, actually. At least I know you'll keep things entertaining."

  Dennis grinned. "Well, I wasn't exactly first choice. Or second. Or third, come to think of it. But hey, at least I get a participation trophy, right?"

  Amy found herself smiling genuinely. "I'll see what I can do about that trophy," she quipped.

  Amy sipped her water, trying not to roll her eyes as Dean droned on about his family's latest business venture. She caught Victoria hanging on his every word and felt that familiar pang of jealousy twist in her gut.

  "...and then my father said, 'Dean, my boy, one day all this will be yours,'" Dean finished with a self-satisfied chuckle.

  Before Amy could stop herself, she muttered, "What, the curtains?"

  Dennis snorted into his drink, nearly choking as he tried to contain his laughter. Dean looked confused, while Victoria shot Amy a disapproving glance.

  "I'm sorry," Amy said, not feeling sorry at all. "I couldn't resist. Please, continue regaling us with tales of your vast empire."

  Dennis grinned at her. "Yeah, Dean. Don't leave us in suspense. I'm dying to know if you'll inherit the kingdom, the princess, or just a shrubbery."

  Amy's eyebrows shot up, pleasantly surprised by Dennis's quick wit. She found herself smiling genuinely for the first time that evening.

  "A shrubbery?" Dean asked, bewildered.

  "Ni!" Dennis and Amy exclaimed in unison, then dissolved into laughter.

  Victoria looked between them, a mixture of confusion and amusement on her face. "Okay, what am I missing here?"

  "Monty Python," Amy explained, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "You know, 'The Holy Grail'?"

  Dean shook his head. "Never seen it."

  "Philistine," Dennis said solemnly. "Next you'll tell me you've never watched 'Life of Brian'."

  "Is that the one with the guy on the cross at the end?" Dean asked.

  Amy gasped in mock horror. "He speaks blasphemy! Quick, Dennis, fetch the comfy chair!"

  "Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!" Dennis declared, brandishing his fork like a weapon.

  Their antics drew curious looks from nearby tables, but Amy found she didn't care. For once, she wasn't hyper-aware of Victoria's every move or agonizing over her unrequited feelings. Instead, she was actually enjoying herself.

  As the evening progressed, Amy found herself engaged in a rapid-fire exchange of quips and references with Dennis. He met her sarcasm blow for blow, his quick mind and sharp wit keeping her on her toes.

  "I've got to hand it to you," Amy said as they finished their desserts. "You think fast."

  Dennis grinned. "Years of practice. You're not so bad yourself, Dallon. Who knew you had such a biting sense of humor hidden under all that healing?"

  "Oh, it's always been there," Amy replied. "I just usually keep it locked away. Can't have people thinking I'm anything less than a perfect, selfless angel, right?"

  There was a hint of bitterness in her tone that she hadn't meant to let slip. Dennis caught it, his expression softening slightly.

  "Well, I for one prefer the snarky version," he said. "Much more interesting than some boring old angel."

  Amy felt a warmth in her chest that had nothing to do with her earlier jealousy. "Thanks," she said softly. "It's... nice to just be myself for once."

  After dinner, they piled into Dean's car and headed to their next destination. Amy found herself actually looking forward to whatever came next, a stark contrast to her usual dread during these double dates.

  "An indoor mini-golf course?" Amy asked as they pulled up to a sleek, modern building. "How wonderfully cliché."

  Dennis chuckled. "Hey, don't knock it 'til you've tried it. This place is actually pretty cool. They've got glow-in-the-dark holes and everything."

  "Ooh, how fancy," Amy drawled. "I bet they even have those little pencils on strings."

  "Only the finest writing implements for m'lady," Dennis said with an exaggerated bow as he held the door open for her.

  As they made their way through the course, Amy found herself thoroughly enjoying the ongoing verbal sparring match with Dennis. His quick comebacks and silly puns kept her laughing, and she realized she was having more fun than she'd had in a long time.

  "Okay, seriously," Amy said as she lined up her shot on the seventh hole. "Where do you come up with all this stuff?"

  Dennis shrugged, leaning on his putter. "I was a big fan of Mouse Protector growing up. Used to watch her show all the time as a kid. I guess some of that cheesy humor rubbed off on me."

  Amy's eyes lit up. "Oh man, I loved that show! 'Mighty mouse of justice, away!'"

  As soon as the words left her mouth, Amy clapped a hand over it, mortified. Dennis's face split into a delighted grin.

  "I knew it!" he crowed. "You're a fellow Mousketeer!"

  Amy groaned. "Oh god, don't call it that. Didn't Disney sue over that name?"

  Dennis waved a hand dismissively. "Details, details. The important thing is that I've uncovered your secret identity as a Mouse Protector fangirl."

  "If you tell anyone, I'll have to kill you," Amy warned, but there was no heat in her words.

  They fell into an animated discussion about their favorite episodes, debating the merits of various villains and reciting particularly memorable lines.

  "Remember the one where she teamed up with Alexandria?" Dennis asked excitedly. "That was epic!"

  Amy nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yeah! I think that was the first time I saw Alexandria. She seemed so cool and powerful. I wanted to be just like her when I grew up."

  A shadow passed over Dennis's face for a moment, so brief Amy almost missed it. "Yeah, I remember watching that one with my dad in the hospital. It was a good distraction."

  Amy's brow furrowed. "What were you in for?"

  Dennis shook his head. "Oh, it wasn't me in the hospital. It was my dad."

  There was something in his tone, a hesitancy that made Amy pause. She sensed there was more to the story than he was letting on.

  "What was your dad in for?" she asked carefully.

  Dennis shifted uncomfortably. "Ah, I don't want to bring up work stuff on a fun date. Let's just focus on the game, yeah?"

  Amy fixed him with a stern glare. "I'm the one asking, Dennis. What was it?"

  He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Leukemia," he admitted quietly. "My dad has leukemia."

  Amy's eyes widened. "What? Why the hell didn't you ask me to heal it before now?"

  Dennis shrugged, not meeting her gaze. "The PRT doesn't want Ward families to be seen as getting preferential treatment. And... well, even I could tell how burnt out you've been lately. I didn't want to add to that."

  Amy bristled. "I heal with a touch, Dennis. It's not like I'm a real doctor. I can't get burnt out."

  Dennis looked at her oddly. "Anyone can get burnt out, Amy. It doesn't matter what a person is doing. If they do it over and over and over again, it's going to get tiresome."

  "Yeah, well, if I take time off, people don't get healed," Amy snapped.

  "True," Dennis agreed. "But which is better? You healing 100 people a week and having a breakdown in a year, or doing the 20 most urgent cases and taking care of yourself so you can be around for decades to come?"

  Amy faltered. "I... that's not... Can you really say that when a mother looks at you and asks why you didn't save her child too?"

  Dennis's expression grew serious. "I already have."

  Amy gave him a questioning look, and he sighed before explaining.

  "There was a gang shootout a few months back. Four people were critically injured. I was using my power to keep them frozen in time, but you know how unpredictable my freezes can be. They last anywhere from 30 seconds to 10 minutes."

  He paused, his eyes distant. "I was jogging between the bodies, trying to keep them all frozen, but one was much farther away than the other three. I... I couldn't maintain all four. So I focused on the three that were closer together."

  Amy listened intently, a knot forming in her stomach as she guessed where this was going.

  "I got unlucky," Dennis continued. "The distant one got a very short freeze, and by the time I could get back... they'd bled out. Later, we found out that the three I'd saved were gang members. The one who died? Just an innocent bystander. Hit by a ricochet."

  Amy was silent for a long moment, processing his words. She'd never really considered that the other heroes might face similar moral dilemmas to her own.

  Without really thinking about it, Amy leaned in and planted a quick kiss on Dennis's cheek. He looked at her in surprise.

  "Thank you," she said softly. "For sharing that with me."

  Dennis nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Thanks for listening."

  Suddenly, Amy made a decision. "Let's grab a cab and go fix up your dad."

  Dennis blinked. "What? But... didn't we just talk about not overworking yourself?"

  "I don't want you down for our next date," Amy said, then froze as she realized what she'd just implied.

  Dennis looked equally shocked, but a grin slowly spread across his face. "Our next date, huh?"

  Amy felt her cheeks flush. "I... yeah. If you want to, that is."

  "Definitely," Dennis said quickly.

  They made their way back to where Victoria and Dean were putting, several holes ahead of them.

  "Vicky," Amy called. "Dennis and I are going to cut out early."

  Victoria looked up, her brow furrowed in concern. "Everything okay, Ames? Do you need me to take you home?"

  "No, no," Amy assured her. "I'm leaving with Dennis, actually."

  Victoria's eyes widened, and a sly grin spread across her face. "Ooh, I see. Well, don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

  Amy rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. Dean looked between them, then broke into a wide grin.

  "I'm glad you're doing better, Amy," he said sincerely.

  Amy wasn't entirely sure what he meant by that, but she nodded. "Thanks, Dean. I... I think I am."

  As they left the mini-golf course, Amy found herself walking arm-in-arm with Dennis. For the first time in a long while, she felt light, unburdened by the constant weight of her unrequited feelings for Victoria.

  Maybe, just maybe, there was hope for her after all.

  Mush led the way through the dingy corridors of the Merchants' hideout, his newly cleaned-up appearance a stark contrast to the grimy surroundings. Behind him trailed a young woman with fiery red hair and nervous eyes. Emily, as she'd introduced herself, kept glancing around warily as if expecting an attack at any moment.

  "And this here's our rec room," Mush announced, gesturing to a space filled with mismatched furniture and a large TV. "Feel free to hang out here when you're not on a job."

  Emily nodded silently, still taking everything in. Mush could tell she was overwhelmed, but that was to be expected. Most new recruits were a bit shell-shocked at first, especially those who'd triggered recently.

  "So," Mush continued, turning to face her directly, "you said you can spit some kind of flammable goo, right? Have you thought about a cape name yet?"

  Emily shook her head. "Not really. I've been a bit preoccupied with... everything else."

  Mush nodded sympathetically. "Fair enough. Well, we can brainstorm a bit if you want. How about—"

  "Napalm Nelly!" Whirligig's excited voice cut in as she rounded the corner. The petite brunette bounded up to them, grinning widely. "I heard we had a new fire-powered cape and I couldn't resist coming up with some name ideas."

  Mush chuckled. "Alright, let's hear 'em."

  Whirligig began rattling off suggestions rapid-fire: "Flame Spewer! Molotov Mouth! Ooh, how about Spitfire?"

  Emily winced at that last one. "Maybe something a little less... on the nose?"

  "Aw, come on," Whirligig pouted. "Spitfire's great! It's punchy, memorable—"

  "And taken," Mush interjected. At Emily's questioning look, he explained, "There's already a Spitfire in... Boston, I think? Some independent hero."

  "Oh," Whirligig deflated slightly. "Well, back to the drawing board then."

  As they continued tossing around name ideas, a commotion from further down the hall caught their attention. Stumbling footsteps and incoherent mumbling grew louder until Skidmark came into view, his eyes glazed and unfocused.

  "S'time to roll out!" he slurred, gesturing wildly. "Got us a big score waitin', jus' gotta... gotta..."

  He trailed off, staring at Emily in confusion. "Who's the new bitch?"

  Mush stepped forward, trying to redirect Skidmark's attention. "This is Emily, our newest recruit. Remember? I told you about her yesterday."

  Skidmark's brow furrowed as he attempted to recall. After a moment, his face lit up with what he clearly thought was a stroke of genius.

  "Burnout!" he exclaimed, pointing at Emily. "That's what we'll call ya. 'Cause you burn shit, get it?"

  Emily opened her mouth to protest, but Mush subtly shook his head. There was no point arguing with Skidmark when he was this far gone.

  Before anyone could say anything else, the sound of rapid footsteps approached. Squealer came skidding around the corner, her eyes wide and pupils dilated. She was practically vibrating with energy, a manic grin plastered across her face.

  "They're ready!" she announced breathlessly. "My babies are all revved up and rarin' to go!"

  Mush's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He'd known Squealer was working on some new vehicles, but he hadn't expected them to be finished so soon. A wicked grin spread across his face as he considered the possibilities.

  "Well then," he said, turning to Emily. "Looks like your interview will have to wait. We've got business to attend to."

  Emily shifted nervously. "What kind of business?"

  Mush's grin widened as he started walking, gesturing for the others to follow. "The best kind. Come on, I'll show you."

  He led the group through a maze of corridors until they reached a large set of metal doors. Pushing them open revealed a cavernous garage space below. Mush strode out onto a catwalk that crossed the room, giving them a perfect view of the floor below.

  Emily's jaw dropped as she took in the sight. Five monstrous vehicles dominated the space, each one a unique blend of scavenged parts and Tinker ingenuity. They ranged from a sleek, low-riding car with what looked like jet engines strapped to the sides, to a hulking behemoth that seemed to be equal parts monster truck and tank.

  "Holy shit," Emily breathed, her eyes wide with a mix of awe and trepidation.

  Mush chuckled. "Impressive, right? Squealer really outdid herself this time."

  Whirligig bounced excitedly. "Ooh, which one do I get to drive?"

  "You don't," Squealer snapped, her earlier manic energy now tinged with possessiveness. "Nobody touches my babies but me."

  Mush held up his hands placatingly. "Easy, Squealer. We'll work out the details in a minute. First, why don't you give us the rundown on what these beauties can do?"

  Squealer's irritation vanished instantly, replaced by eager pride. She launched into a rapid-fire explanation of each vehicle's capabilities, most of which went over Emily's head. From what she could gather, they were heavily armed, incredibly fast, and nearly indestructible by normal means.

  As Squealer's technical jargon washed over her, Emily leaned closer to Mush and whispered, "What exactly are we doing with these things?"

  Mush's grin took on a predatory edge. "Dragon hunting."

  Emily blinked in confusion. "Dragon hunting? You don't mean... Lung?"

  Mush nodded, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "The one and only. See, the ABB's been pushing hard lately, trying to take back territory. But their big, scaly leader's been spread thin, can't be everywhere at once."

  He gestured to the vehicles below. "With these, we can hit multiple locations simultaneously. Keep Lung running all over the city, wearing himself out. And when he's good and tired..."

  He trailed off, letting Emily's imagination fill in the rest. She swallowed hard, her earlier nervousness returning tenfold.

  "Isn't that... incredibly dangerous?" she asked hesitantly.

  Mush shrugged. "Everything in this life is dangerous, kid. But the payoff? Taking down the biggest, baddest cape in the Bay? That's the kind of thing that puts you on the map. Shows everyone we're not just some two-bit drug pushers anymore."

  Emily nodded slowly, trying to process everything. It was a lot to take in, especially for someone who'd only had her powers for a few weeks.

  "So," Mush continued, "you ready for your first official job as a Merchant?"

  Emily hesitated for a moment, then straightened her shoulders and nodded firmly. "Yeah. I'm in."

  Mush clapped her on the back. "That's what I like to hear. Alright, people, let's get this show on the road!"

  As the others began scrambling to prepare, Emily took one last look at the monstrous vehicles below. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was in way over her head, but it was too late to back out now.

  Whatever happened next, she had a feeling it was going to be one hell of a ride.

  Skidmark stumbled forward, nearly toppling over the railing before Whirligig caught him. He squinted down at the vehicles, a lopsided grin spreading across his face.

  "Fuck yeah," he slurred. "Time to show that overgrown lizard who's boss!"

  Mush rolled his eyes but didn't bother trying to rein in his nominal leader. Instead, he turned to Squealer, who was practically vibrating with excitement.

  "Alright, Squealer, give us the breakdown. Who's riding in what, and what's our plan of attack?"

  Squealer's eyes lit up as she launched into an explanation, gesturing wildly at each vehicle in turn.

  "Okay, so the big bruiser there," she pointed to the tank-like monstrosity, "that's for you, Mush. It's got reinforced plating that'll stand up to Lung's fire, plus a bunch of compartments for you to store extra trash to use with your power."

  Mush nodded approvingly. "Nice. What about firepower?"

  Squealer grinned maniacally. "Oh, it's got plenty of that. Mounted guns, rocket launchers, even a few surprises I cooked up special. You'll love it."

  She moved on to a sleek, aerodynamic vehicle that looked like it could break the sound barrier. "This baby's mine. It's got the best maneuverability and top speed of the bunch. I'll be running interference, keeping Lung distracted while the rest of you do your thing."

  Next was a boxy, armored van with what looked like satellite dishes mounted on the roof. "Whirligig, you're in this one. It's got a bunch of drones and other gizmos you can control with your power. Plus, it's got a mobile command center set up inside so you can coordinate everyone."

  Whirligig bounced excitedly. "Sweet! I've always wanted my own secret lair on wheels."

  Squealer pointed to a vehicle that looked like a cross between a monster truck and a flame-thrower. "Skidmark, you get this one. It's got ramps and launch pads built in so you can use your fields to give us all a boost when we need it. Plus, it's got some heavy artillery for when shit really hits the fan."

  Skidmark nodded sagely, or at least as sagely as someone in his state could manage. "Fuck yeah, time to paint the town Merchant blue!"

  Finally, Squealer turned to Emily. "And for our newest member, we've got this beauty." She gestured to a vehicle that looked like a sports car had mated with a chemical plant. "It's got a bunch of tanks and sprayers hooked up to amplify your power. You can cover whole city blocks in that napalm of yours."

  Emily's eyes widened as she took in the specialized vehicle. "Wow, that's... impressive. But how did you build something for my power so quickly? I only joined yesterday."

  Squealer waved a hand dismissively. "Please, this is what I do. Once Mush told me what you could do, it was easy to whip something up."

  Mush clapped his hands together. "Alright, now that we know who's driving what, let's talk strategy. Squealer, you said you had a plan?"

  The Tinker nodded eagerly. "Yeah, so here's the deal. We're gonna hit five different ABB locations simultaneously. Whirligig will coordinate from her command center, making sure we all stay on schedule."

  She pulled out a map of the city, pointing to various locations. "We've got a couple of their bigger drug dens, a weapons cache, one of their underground fighting rings, and a suspected human trafficking site."

  Emily felt her stomach churn at that last one, but she kept her face neutral.

  Squealer continued, "The goal is to keep Lung running all over the city, never giving him a chance to rest or power up fully. We hit hard and fast, then bug out before he can get there. Rinse and repeat until he's good and tired."

  Mush nodded approvingly. "And once he's worn down?"

  A predatory grin spread across Squealer's face. "That's when we all converge on him at once. Hit him with everything we've got while he's at his weakest."

  Emily couldn't help but speak up. "Is that... really going to be enough? I mean, this is Lung we're talking about. He fought an Endbringer to a standstill."

  Mush placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, kid. We've got a few tricks up our sleeves. Plus, we're not looking to take him out permanently. Just rough him up enough to show the city that the Merchants aren't to be fucked with anymore."

  He addressed the group as a whole. "Alright, people, you know your roles. Let's gear up and get ready to roll out in ten."

  As the others scrambled to prepare, Emily found herself alone with Mush for a moment.

  "Hey," she said hesitantly, "I know I'm new and all, but... are you sure about this? It seems like a huge risk."

  Mush's expression softened slightly. "Look, I get it. This is a big step up from what the Merchants used to be. But that's the point. We can't keep being seen as bottom-feeders if we want to survive in this city."

  He gestured around them. "You've seen how things have been changing lately. The Empire's getting stronger, new players are popping up... we need to adapt or we'll get left behind."

  Emily nodded slowly, still not entirely convinced.

  Mush continued, "Plus, think about it this way: every bit of damage we do to the ABB is one less girl trafficked, one less kid forced into their gang. We might not be heroes, but we can still do some good while we're at it."

  That last part resonated with Emily more than she wanted to admit. She'd seen firsthand what the ABB did to people in their territory.

  "Alright," she said finally. "I'm in. For real this time."

  Mush grinned and clapped her on the back. "That's what I like to hear. Now come on, let's get you suited up. Can't go dragon hunting without the proper gear."

  As they made their way down to the garage floor, Emily couldn't shake the feeling that her life was about to change dramatically. For better or worse remained to be seen.

  The next few minutes were a whirlwind of activity as everyone prepared for the upcoming mission. Mush helped Emily into a flame-resistant suit, explaining its features as they went.

  "This'll keep you safe from your own napalm, plus it's got some basic armor plating," he said, adjusting a strap. "Not enough to stop a bullet, mind you, but it'll help with shrapnel and such."

  Emily nodded, trying to calm her nerves as the reality of what they were about to do sank in. She watched as the others geared up, each in their own unique way.

  Skidmark, despite his inebriated state, managed to don a garish blue and white costume that seemed to shimmer with his power. Whirligig was practically bouncing as she climbed into her mobile command center, already starting to power up the various screens and controls.

  Squealer, meanwhile, was lovingly running her hands over her vehicle, murmuring to it like a mother to a child. "Don't you worry, baby," she cooed. "Mama's gonna show everyone just what you can do."

  Finally, Mush approached the group, now fully encased in his signature trash armor. Even Emily had to admit it was an impressive sight, far more cohesive and intimidating than the piles of garbage she'd seen in old news footage.

  "Alright, people," he called out, his voice muffled slightly by his makeshift helmet. "One last check. Everyone clear on the plan?"

  There was a chorus of affirmatives, though Skidmark's came out more as a garbled "Fuck yeah!"

  Mush nodded, satisfied. "Good. Remember, we're not looking for a prolonged fight here. Hit hard, hit fast, and get out before Lung can fully ramp up. Whirligig will keep us coordinated, so make sure you stay in contact."

  He turned to Emily, his expression unreadable behind his mask of compacted trash. "You ready for this, Burnout?"

  Emily winced slightly at the name but nodded firmly. "As I'll ever be."

  "That's the spirit," Mush said, clapping her on the shoulder. "Alright, let's mount up and roll out!"

  As everyone climbed into their respective vehicles, Emily couldn't help but feel a mix of terror and exhilaration. This was it, her first real mission as a cape. No going back now.

  The engines roared to life, filling the garage with a cacophony of sound. Emily gripped the steering wheel of her custom vehicle tightly, trying to remember everything Squealer had told her about its operation.

  Mush's voice crackled over the comms. "Alright, Merchants. Let's go put Brockton Bay on notice."

  With that, the garage doors began to open, revealing the nighttime streets of the city. One by one, the monstrous vehicles rolled out, ready to unleash chaos on the unsuspecting ABB.

  As Emily followed the others into the night, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was going to be a turning point, not just for her, but for the entire city. Whether it would be for better or worse remained to be seen.