(TAYLOR HEBERT) CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Armsmaster didn’t move, and neither did Taylor Hebert. For several long seconds the only movement between them came from the slow currents carrying scraps of paper, splintered timber and broken masonry through the drowned city. Her flames cast an unsteady orange glow over the wreckage, throwing long shadows across office cubicles, parked cars, and shattered streets. Somewhere above them Leviathan had retreated, but his absence had done nothing to soften the devastation the Simurgh had engineered.

He had expected to find Taylor hunting for survivors, or worse, injured and in need of immediate evacuation. Instead, she stared past him.

He turned just enough to follow her gaze. A woman drifted silently between two abandoned cars, her blue dress billowing with the current while strands of dark hair obscured her face. By the time he looked back, Taylor had already slipped past him without a word.

She crossed the distance to the nearest building in moments and drove both hands into the outer wall. Concrete burst apart beneath her grip, a section large enough to drive a truck through folding inwards as she disappeared into the darkness beyond. Armsmaster followed her through the breach.

The offices inside looked almost untouched. Desks remained bolted to the floor, computer monitors still rested neatly on workstations, and family photographs drifted lazily through the rooms, occasionally bumping against overturned filing cabinets before continuing on with the current. Taylor didn’t spare any of it a glance. She searched with a methodical urgency that quickly became concerning, opening one room after another without hesitation, never lingering, yet never rushing either. It was as though she’d already accepted what she was going to find behind every door.

She checked a conference room, then a storage cupboard, finding nothing in either before forcing open the kitchen door. Three bodies floated inside. She paused only long enough to sigh before swimming over to them, gently closing each pair of eyes before continuing deeper into the building.

Armsmaster remained where he was, an unfamiliar discomfort tightening somewhere in his chest.

“…Taylor Hebert.”

She either hadn’t heard him or had chosen not to answer. By the time he caught up, she had already broken through another wall and entered what appeared to be a stairwell.

A fist struck weakly against a fire door.

Taylor reached it first.

The hinges shrieked as she tore the door from its frame, revealing two men clinging desperately to one another inside the stairwell.

An air pocket.

They had survived on an air pocket.

Without a word, Taylor gathered them beneath one arm and shot towards the surface. Armsmaster followed in her wake, watching the water erupt into steam as she burst into the open air. She didn’t pause to orient herself or call for assistance, instead flying directly towards one of the floating buildings.

By the time Armsmaster surfaced, Glory Girl had already landed beside her. She helped one of the survivors onto the building while Shielder pulled the other to safety.

“They’re alive,” Glory Girl called.

Taylor acknowledged her with a single nod before diving straight back beneath the waves.

Armsmaster looked towards the dark ocean where Taylor had already vanished from sight.

“Is she alright?” Glory Girl asked.

“I don’t know.”

The pattern repeated itself until Armsmaster lost track of how many buildings they had searched. Taylor tore her way inside, swept every room she could reach, carried the living to the surface and returned for the dead once there was nobody left to save. She never questioned whether she should bring the bodies back. She simply did it, every single time, as though leaving anyone behind had become unthinkable.

He watched her lay an elderly man beside his wife on one of the floating buildings before stepping back to give the woman room. She dropped to her knees immediately and began compressions, pleading with her husband between desperate breaths while Taylor stood motionless a few feet away.

The man never responded.

Eventually the woman’s hands slowed before coming to a stop altogether. She lowered her forehead onto his chest and sobbed silently.

Taylor turned away without a word.

Armsmaster followed her beneath the waves, catching her wrist as she reached for the wall of another building.

She stopped and looked back at him, the fire burning beneath her skin reflecting in the blue plates of his armour.

“Miss Hebert.”

“…There are still people.”

“There are.”

“You should help them.”

“I am.”

She looked at him for another moment before gently easing her wrist from his grasp. Armsmaster let her go, expecting her to continue.

She made it only a few strokes before slowing to a halt. The seconds slipped by while the current carried debris between them, but Taylor remained exactly where she was, staring into nothing.

“…Miss Hebert.”

“What?”

“You’ve stopped.”

Her brow furrowed, and she glanced around herself, as though only just realising she had been standing still.

“…Oh.”

Then she started forward again, and Armsmaster followed, staying beside her as they entered what had once been an apartment building. Bedrooms opened onto flooded corridors where children’s drawings still clung stubbornly to the walls despite the water that now filled every room.

The first bedroom was empty.

So was the second.

The third held a family of four.

They floated together beneath the ceiling, the father’s arms still wrapped around the little girl he had tried to protect.

Taylor didn’t move, but the flames surrounding her body dimmed almost imperceptibly.

“Miss Hebert.”

“I asked for this.”

Her voice was flat enough that, for an instant, Armsmaster wondered whether she realised she’d spoken aloud.

“I wanted to fight Leviathan.” She swallowed once. “I thought… I thought it would help.”

Understanding came immediately.

She wasn’t talking about the portals or the drowned city surrounding them. She was talking about choosing this battle in the first place, about every warning she had brushed aside after driving the Simurgh away, convinced that one victory meant she could change the outcome of another.

None of that changed what had actually happened. The Simurgh had orchestrated this. Taylor couldn’t have known. She couldn’t have predicted the sudden appearance of the portals.

Looking at the dead gathered around them, that distinction had become almost meaningless to her.

Armsmaster opened his mouth, searching for something useful to say. Finding nothing, he closed it again. 

Taylor broke the silence herself.

“There are still people.”

“Yes.”

She pushed away from the doorway, resuming her search with the same relentless determination as before. Armsmaster remained at her side while they moved from one ruined building to the next, crossing drowned streets littered with broken vehicles and fragments of another world.

After a while he noticed she had stopped checking identification altogether. Earlier she had paused long enough to read names whenever she found a wallet or employee badge. Now she spared them barely a glance. If someone was alive, she carried them to the surface. If they weren’t, she closed their eyes before moving on.

Hours seemed to pass that way, or maybe only minutes. Time had become difficult to judge without actively taking note of it.

His communicator crackled to life, and Armsmaster made no attempt to keep the coming conversation private. 

“Armsmaster.”

Dragon.

“We’ve confirmed Leviathan has disengaged.”

He acknowledged the report without taking his eyes off the girl. “Understood.”

“There are rescue vessels inbound.”

“Thank you.”

There was a brief pause.

“Update?”

Taylor had just found another survivor, a little girl trapped beneath the collapsed ceiling of what had once been a classroom. She lifted the child with extraordinary care, one burning hand shielding her from falling debris as she began the long ascent towards the surface.

“…The situation is under control,” he  said.

“And Miss Hebert?”

He watched the orange light of her flames fade into the blue above.

He sighed.

“…She requires immediate psychological evaluation.”

Dragon was silent for a moment.

“I understand.”

The channel closed.

Armsmaster waited only long enough to ensure Taylor had reached the surface before following after her once again.