(AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN...) BACK TO BASICS

The feeling did not survive the morning.

Taylor had barely finished getting dressed when her dad knocked on her door. It wasn't the usual quick tap and a half-second wait, but something firmer that made her pause. She opened it to find him standing there with a phone in hand, his expression set in a way that told her everything she needed to know before he even spoke.

“They called,” he said.

That was enough.

The drive to the PRT building passed without either of them speaking. Her dad kept both hands on the wheel, his focus fixed straight ahead, and Taylor sat beside him watching the city move past the window. 

By the time they arrived, she already knew it wasn’t going to be good news.

The room they brought her into was different from the last one. Larger, colder somehow, with more people in it and less effort made to pretend this was anything other than what it was. Director Piggot stood near the far end of the table, arms crossed, while Miss Militia leaned against the wall with that same quiet intensity she always seemed to carry. Armsmaster was already there, his attention shifting toward Taylor the moment she walked in.

Jessica Yamada sat to one side, her presence unchanged, though something in her expression seemed more guarded than before.

Her dad stayed close.

No one spoke right away, but the silence didn’t stretch long.

“Lung has escaped,” Piggot said.

There it was.

Taylor felt something settle into place inside her, not quite surprise and not quite resignation. It made sense in a way that didn’t require much thought. The ABB had been hit hard, Bakuda was gone, and Lung had never been the kind of person to stay contained for long. The idea that he would come back for what was left of his territory, or for the people who had taken it from him, felt almost inevitable.

Her dad let out a slow breath beside her.

“That’s… not good,” he said, which felt like an understatement and not in a helpful way.

Armsmaster stepped forward slightly, picking up where Piggot had left off.

“We are already mobilizing to locate and contain him,” he said. “However, given his capabilities and likely state of mind, direct engagement carries significant risk. We need information before we commit to any large-scale operation.”

Taylor could see where this was going before he said it.

“And you think I can get that,” she said.

Armsmaster inclined his head.

“Your ability allows you to enter situations that would otherwise be considered too dangerous to scout,” he said. “You can gather information on his location, his condition, and any support he may have retained. If the situation becomes untenable, your power will—”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

Her dad cut in before Armsmaster could finish, his voice sharper than Taylor had heard it in a while.

“You’re talking about this like it’s some kind of tool she can just use whenever it’s convenient,” he continued. “She can’t control it. She doesn’t decide when it happens, or how far it goes back, or what she keeps. This isn’t a simulation. If something happens to her, it actually happens.”

Armsmaster did not argue.

“We are aware of the limitations,” he said. “However, the potential utility remains.”

“She’s not a soldier,” her dad said. “She’s not even a cape in any official capacity. You can’t just send her into something like this and expect it to—”

“I know.”

Taylor’s voice cut through the rest of it, quieter than his but enough to stop him.

He turned toward her immediately.

“Taylor—”

“I know,” she repeated.

She could feel all of them watching her now, waiting.

It would happen anyway.

That thought had been sitting somewhere in the back of her mind since the moment they said Lung’s name, and it hadn’t gone away. She wasn't being dramatic. If anything, she was being realistic. She knew that if she walked out of here and tried to ignore it, if she went home and pretended things could go back to how they were yesterday, it would still find her eventually.

It always did.

“I’m going to run into him,” she said, looking at her dad instead of the others. “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but it’s going to happen.”

He shook his head immediately.

“That doesn’t mean you have to go looking for it.”

Taylor hesitated, just for a second.

Maybe he was right. Maybe she could wait, let someone else handle it, and hope it played out in a way that didn’t drag her into it.

The thought didn’t stick.

“I’d rather just get it over with,” she said.

The words came out simpler than she expected, without much weight behind them, but they felt right in a way that mattered more than anything else she could have said.

She had been happy.

That was the part that lingered, more than the fear or the risk or anything else they were talking about. Yesterday had been… something close to normal, something she hadn’t had in a while, and the idea of sitting around waiting for it to be taken away again felt worse than just stepping into whatever came next.

Her dad stared at her, something in his expression tightening in a way she didn’t have a name for.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said.

“I know.”

That didn’t change anything.

The room stayed quiet after that.

No one stepped in to argue, not Piggot, not Armsmaster, and not even Miss Militia. Jessica watched her for a moment longer than the others, her expression unreadable, then looked away.

It didn't feel like an agreement.

It felt worse than that.

Taylor shifted her weight slightly, the decision settling into place in a way that left very little room for doubt.

“Okay,” she said. 

And that was that.