[AMY IN DISPATCH (2025)] CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Two days later, the door of Room Three of the DADA slid shut behind them with the same soft, airtight hiss it always made, sealing them once again inside the office of Dr. Selene Marris, where four chairs had been arranged around the circular table in anticipation of another uncomfortable conversation.

Amy occupied one of them with an armful of pretzels and marshmallow bags balanced precariously in her lap, casually munching on her snacks while still dressed in her Panacea costume, though she had at least pushed her hood down, as if that small concession made the situation feel more informal than it actually was.

Blonde Blazer sat to Amy’s right, her left leg crossed over her right in a way that positively screamed professionalism, even if the twitches at the corner of her eye betrayed just how aware she was of the loud noise her ward’s snacking was producing in such a confined space. 

On Amy’s other side sat Hunter, who looked noticeably smaller when she was not in the middle of a meltdown, her dark gray hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands, her toned shoulders tight, and her blue eyes flicking uneasily toward the corners of the room as though she half expected something to emerge from them if she looked away for too long.

Dr. Marris sat across from them at the table, her tablet resting in her hands as she finished typing her last notes, a slight crease of concern lingering between her brows.

“Well,” she said at last, her voice still gentle despite her visible expression, “this is not ideal. But it is informative.”

Amy raised her hand automatically, still chewing, and only spoke once she had swallowed. “Define ‘not ideal’ in this context.”

“The fact that you are no longer our only displaced parahuman from Earth Bet,” Dr. Marris replied, meeting Amy’s gaze, “and the arrival of our newest friend here has confirmed an unknown factor that we must now anticipate, one that has existed ever since your own appearance five months ago.”

Amy slowly lowered her hand, the humor draining from her expression.

“…Ah. Of course.”

Hunter’s jaw tightened, her fingers curling into the fabric of her sleeves. “So what does that make me, exactly? The start of something awful?”

“No,” Dr. Marris said firmly, though after a moment she shook her head, as if reconsidering her phrasing. “Not exactly.”

A holographic display bloomed to life above the table, its pale blue light filling the room as two wireframe silhouettes appeared, one clearly Amy’s and the other Hunter’s, both threaded through with noticeable distortions.

Mandy crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair as she studied the image. “That’s the same pattern Amy has.”

“Yes,” Dr. Marris confirmed. “A similar signature, because they originate from the same cluster event.”

Amy leaned forward despite herself, her attention fully captured. “Cluster?”

“In our terminology,” Dr. Marris explained, “a cluster event refers to multiple displacements that originate from the same dimension.”

Hunter blinked. “You mean our Earth Bet.”

“In simplified terms, yes.”

Amy stared at the overlapping distortions on the hologram, something cold settling in her stomach as the implication became unavoidably clear.

“So Hunter suddenly appearing here like I did is not random,” she said quietly.

“No,” Dr. Marris replied. “It is not.”

A small, heavy silence followed.

Hunter’s fingers twitched against her sleeves. “Is it… bad?”

Dr. Marris did not meet either of their eyes this time. “That depends on what you consider bad.”

Amy made a small, distressed sound in the back of her throat.

Blonde Blazer intervened smoothly. “Doctor.”

Dr. Marris inclined her head. “Apologies. Let me rephrase.”

The hologram shifted, dissolving the silhouettes and replacing them with what looked like layered sheets of translucent glass, each one slightly misaligned, drifting against one another slowly.

“In your home dimension,” she said, addressing both Amy and Hunter, “parallel Earths exist, separated by defined barriers, and while travel between them is possible and even relatively common, it usually requires extraordinary power or highly specialized technology.”

Amy swallowed and nodded, while Hunter stared at the projection as though it might suddenly come alive and reach for her.

“In our dimension,” Dr. Marris continued, “the barriers are looser, so to speak, which is why this department exists at all.”

The glass layers shifted again, one bending slightly toward another before easing back into place.

“We exist at what you might call a high-traffic intersection, a dimensional thoroughfare.”

Amy’s mind immediately supplied the phrase loose gateway.

“So people can just… slip through?” she asked.

“Yes,” Dr. Marris said.

Hunter’s breath hitched. “That sure as hell is not comforting.”

“No,” Dr. Marris agreed rather calmly. “It is not intended to be.”

Mandy gestured toward the projection. “How often does this happen?”

“Rare on a population scale,” Dr. Marris said, “but significantly more common among individuals with unusual energy signatures.”

Amy and Hunter both went very still.

“…Oh,” Amy said faintly.

Hunter narrowed her eyes. “You mean us.”

“Yes.”

The projection zoomed in on the distortions threaded through their silhouettes.

“Parahuman energy,” Dr. Marris explained carefully, as if sensing the sudden tension in the room. “Your abilities operate on a transdimensional mechanic, so when something destabilizes, you are more likely to slip through.”

Hunter clenched her jaw. “But I did not do anything.”

“To be clear,” Dr. Marris said, watching both of them closely, “we have no indication that either of you caused this.”

Amy exhaled, Hunter didn’t, and Blazer simply stared at the display

“But,” Dr. Marris continued, “the appearance of a second individual from the same origin point strongly suggests that your arrival was not an isolated event.”

Blonde Blazer’s voice cut in. “Meaning what.”

“Meaning that the pathway between your Earth Bet and ours is… looser than average.”

The layered glass flickered again, this time showing faint, hairline fractures of light between two of the sheets.

Amy stared at it. “...Will more parahumans be coming through?”

Dr. Marris did not answer immediately.

The silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable, and Hunter’s breathing began to quicken.

Without thinking, Amy reached out.

Hunter flinched, but she did not pull away as Amy rested their joined hands on the table between them.

“We are not back there,” Amy said quietly. “Things work differently here for people like you and me. This is not Earth Shin or the Birdcage or any of that.”

Dr. Marris nodded, but said nothing.

Hunter swallowed. “Does that mean it is going to keep happening? More parahumans showing up and losing control as I did?”

Dr. Marris considered her words carefully again. “We cannot rule it out. However, if additional displacement events occur, we will detect them.”

“And then,” Hunter asked.

“Then,” Blazer answered evenly, “we make sure they do not hurt anyone.”

An hour later, the dimensional crisis talks had been shoved aside in favor of getting milkshakes.

After the meeting and the necessary paperwork for Hunter’s extended stay in this world had finally been completed, the superpowered trio drifted from Dr. Marris’s office into a quieter lounge space down the hall, one of the many neutral areas designed for staff and heroes alike who needed somewhere to decompress. They were content to enjoy the warm lighting, low tables, and the view of the city through the thick, reinforced glass. 

Amy was halfway through a neapolitan milkshake, straw working methodically through the chocolate layer. Blazer had opted for cookies and cream, her posture still unmistakably professional even with a tall glass slowly condensing against her palm, as though she were trying very hard not to relax too much on principle. Hunter had peanut butter and chocolate, but her movements were still restless in a way that suggested she was still bracing for something to go wrong.

Amy watched her for a few seconds longer than was strictly polite and came to the obvious conclusion that the girl desperately needed to learn how to relax, because that level of paranoia could not possibly be healthy for anyone, even by parahuman standards.

For a little while, though, none of them mentioned dimensional thoroughfare, energy signatures, or the looming possibility of more parahumans, and instead allowed themselves to just enjoy their meal. But, with such a conversation still relatively new in their heads, they all knew the silence wouldn't last long. 

Hunter was the one who broke it.

“So,” she said, staring down into the swirling surface of her shake instead of looking at either of them, as though the words themselves were easier to manage than eye contact. “Dimensional ward.”

Blonde Blazer nodded once. “It formalizes things for you, especially once we get you officially employed at SDN: resources, legal coverage, training access… the works. You’ll have the same protections as Amy does.”

Hunter’s jaw flexed slightly. “Right.”

Amy, clearly trying to keep the mood from sliding back into something too heavy, chirped, “It means you’re officially like me. Congratulations, fellow parahuman from Earth Bet. There is probably a lot of paperwork involved, though. There is always paperwork.”

Hunter let out a sound that might have been a laugh if it had not come out so strained and breathless.

Blonde Blazer set her glass down gently on the table. “You would continue staying with me, of course. We will make room.”

Hunter hesitated at that. It was subtle, just a slight tightening around her eyes and shoulders, but Amy noticed it immediately. She always noticed the small biological tells, even without directly touching someone, and this one read very clearly as discomfort.

“Is your place built for three?” Hunter asked quietly.

Blonde Blazer opened her mouth to respond, but Amy, almost absentmindedly helpful, spoke first.

“Oh, that’s fine. I have a lot of money.”

They both turned to look at her.

Amy blinked at the sudden attention, then shrugged. “The slimes and the patent royalties through SDN are being used in construction sealants, emergency medical foam, eco-packaging, and at least three different toy lines. It is kind of obscene, honestly, the amount of money these little guys are generating.” She took another sip of her shake. “I could just buy a place for the two of us. Or rent something huge. It’s not a big deal.”

Blonde Blazer stared at her. “Aren’t you underage?”

“Still a multidimensional biotech entrepreneur,” Amy corrected automatically. “It’s very on brand.”

Hunter was still staring at her, though with an expression Amy could not immediately interpret.

“You’d move out for me?” Hunter asked. “Just like that?”

Amy frowned slightly, as if genuinely confused by the question. “I mean… yeah. If it makes things easier for our designated watcher here. We wouldn’t be imposing, and you wouldn’t have to squeeze into Blazer’s guest room slash storage closet slash ‘temporary’ disaster area.”

“It is not a storage closet,” Blonde Blazer sniffed primly.

“It has a treadmill you don’t use.”

“I intend to.”

Hunter’s lips twitched despite herself, a small, reluctant smile breaking through before she looked back down at her milkshake again.

“You’re serious,” she said after a moment.

“Sure,” Amy replied, then hesitated. “Wait. You wouldn’t want to?”

Hunter looked up at her properly this time.

“You’re Panacea.”

Amy blinked. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

Hunter rolled her eyes. “There isn’t a single person, parahuman or not, who hasn’t heard of you back home. On Earth Bet, you were the gold standard. The healer everyone compared themselves to.” She paused. “Even after that.”

Even after that.

Amy’s straw stopped moving.

Hunter continued, her tone blunt and strangely gentle at the same time. “Everyone thinks you’re dead where we come from. That whole incident you saved us from at the cost of your life, or so the story goes now.”

Amy’s eyes twitched.

“Yes,” she said, her voice a tad too squeaky. “I recall. Very vividly, actually.”

Blazer’s gaze narrowed in response, sensing the tension spike, but she held her silence.

Hunter either did not notice the discomfort she had stirred or did not know how to navigate around it. Or maybe she simply did not care enough to try. All three possibilities felt equally plausible.

“My point,” Hunter said more quietly, “is that if I’m stuck in another universe, I would rather room with the world’s best healer than roll the dice with anyone else.”

Amy stared at her.

There was no sarcasm in Hunter’s expression, just blunt practicality. Trust, in its own strangely cynical form.

“…Oh,” Amy said softly. “Of course.”

Blazer leaned back in her chair, folding one leg over the other again. “You’re asking my permission?”

Hunter shifted in her seat. “You’re my designated guardian here. It felt like the polite thing to do.”

“And it wouldn’t be like we’re disappearing,” Amy added quickly. “We would just have… different addresses.”

Blonde Blazer smiled, warm and reassuring in exactly the way a responsible mentor should. “That’s fine. You’re both independent enough to manage that, and I will still be overseeing training and check-ins.”

Hunter’s shoulders relaxed a fraction.

Amy immediately brightened, halfway into planning. “Oh, we could get a place with a basement lab and reinforced walls… and maybe a yard. For, I don’t know, snail training.”

Blonde Blazer nodded along, though the smile on her face dimmed just slightly.

Hunter took another sip of her milkshake. “So. House hunting in a different universe.”

Amy grinned. “I’ve had worse Tuesdays.”