I sat patiently.

  I watched and listened.

  I cursed my terrible luck as the situation developed.

  I’d released control over to Silver for the remainder of the day after meeting with Lily and Melody.

  I had perked up when the two of us heard the sounds of activity coming from a nearby alleyway after leaving the store.

  She’d been scared. I was excited.

  I’d been thinking about the pushback she had given me earlier in the day. Thinking about how we lacked common ground, because she’d never had her life twisted and yanked off to one side in the same way that I had. But I thought I knew myself pretty well, and that extended to knowing her, too. She was less mature than I was, more sensitive, and not as used to rolling with the punches life threw our way.

  I thought that perhaps this would be a good opportunity to give her a taste of what my life was like, or had been, at least, for a while. The life of a parahuman, and the life of a hero, specifically. I’d been sucked in by it, maybe she would be too, if she were only given the chance to experience it.

  So I’d pushed her to investigate. I was ready to take action if something happened that might put her in any real danger. My assumption had been that it might be a mugging, or that someone was doing some property crime and making off with some stolen loot. Simple, easy things to handle, for me, at least. I’d guide her hand and give her the tools and mental nudge on what to do, let her get that adrenaline rush that I knew we both craved. Bust a criminal, or save someone from getting their valuables snatched.

  What I hadn’t expected was what appeared to be a fairly well-organised kidnapping operation with not one, but multiple parahuman villains involved.

  Red lights went off in my head immediately when she started acting oddly around Mr. Small. Acting out of character, feeling a spike of anxiety, but one that was rapidly swept away as she was lulled into a sense of security she shouldn’t be feeling.

  She’d never been given any Master/Stranger protocol training. Didn’t know some of the tactics and techniques that the PRT taught field operatives and heroes to try to resist or undermine the effects of perception-altering or mind-altering effects.

  I wasn’t under any illusions at all that she was dealing with some kind of a Master, and I wasn’t affected by the ability in the same way that she seemed to be.

  I’d thought that in the moment, I’d wait and see how things played out. I had a plan of action. I could take over, and I’d trigger changes to hopefully nullify the ability of the master to issue commands. I’d deafen myself and give myself a huge surge of adrenaline. Preventative measures, and I could take further action if I felt the need, maybe blinding myself as well, and relying on other, newly adopted senses instead. Heat-sensing vision only, perhaps.

  I had tools. I was going to wait to find out more about what was going on here. To not leap into action right away and give away the game. Maybe I’d learn more, and could make a bigger splash by taking down co-conspirators, or find out what it was they were doing kidnapping people in the first place.

  Mr. Small was then joined by Mr. Big. The most blatantly obvious Brute-rating parahuman I’d seen in a good while. Brutes didn’t always look like Mr. Big, or Manpower, but it wasn’t uncommon for people triggering with Brute ratings to undergo physical changes in the way that a Changer might. Usually not to the same degree, they would often become a more traditionally super-powered appearing person, the way Aleph portrayed them, with increased height, muscle mass, and the like.

  A Master I could handle fairly easily. A Brute, too, but it would require a touch more work on my part, and a bit of time. We were still good to remain a passive observer until the time was right.

  Unfortunately, Mr. Big climbed into the back of the large van with the rest of the placated people and was able to directly observe not just them, but me, too. That meant I couldn’t work on preparing changes without the risk of revealing myself as a fellow parahuman.

  So I continued to bide my time and watch as Silver discarded her means of calling for help and being located, sat in the van, closed her eyes when instructed, and as all of us rode along to wherever it was that we were going.

  The fact that they didn’t want us watching where they were driving was a good sign.

  I waited and listened for details. Nothing really stood out. Traffic sounds, a short trip on a larger road or highway, and people breathing. Nobody spoke or moved. Mr. Small had politely asked us to remain quiet for the ride, so he could concentrate on driving us all safely to our destination.

  I wasn’t sure if it took more concentration on his part to control people or if he simply didn’t want to hear any chatter from the back.

  It felt like we drove for between a quarter and half an hour. Still within the city, I was pretty sure, but navigating streets and moving a fair distance. No ferry, but that seemed like an obvious liability to avoid with so many people able to move around, see things, and ask questions.

  We wove through some turns and then came to a halt. The front door of the van opened, I heard chains and metal squeaking, then the van pulled forward some, and it repeated. More chains and grating sounds. It reminded me of something, but I couldn’t put my claws on what it was, exactly. Vaguely familiar, in an annoying way.

  The van moved again, then stopped and shut off. Chains and grating again, and then the side door to the back of the van was opened.

  Mr. Small’s voice asked us to keep our eyes closed, link hands with our seat-mates, and shuffle out of the van. Everyone linked up to a single chain afterwards. I was almost certain I was at the front, and holding Mr. Big’s hand, judging by the fact that I felt like I was holding on to a pair of large sausages instead of fingers. The person on my other side had a cool, dry hand with longer nails.

  We were led along empty-sounding corridors, with doors opening and closing behind us. It was cool and slightly damp, echoey, with hard floors. The doors sounded heavy and metallic, some of the frames missing stoppers and the doors clanking shut. Like fire doors, not residential doors. The air was slightly musty and mildewy, and I could smell some kind of chemical in the mild funk. Some kind of cleaner, maybe? It also reminded me of things that I wasn’t able to place. My mind latched on to ‘cleaning stuff.’

  Eventually, we reached our new destination, and Mr. Small explained that we would be waiting here for some time, and to remain calm and patient. There would be a buzz sound, and we could open our eyes and talk if we liked afterwards.

  Mr. Big pulled his hand free, and Silver dropped her grip on the other person's hand. A solid clank, followed by a clunk and a brief electric buzz, sounded in the space.

  Silver opened her eyes and looked around.

  I didn’t like what we were seeing. I didn’t like it at all.

  It was a large, bare, concrete, windowless room, maybe fifty feet in diameter, round, with metal drain grates like you might see on a storm drain set into the floor. The ceiling was twenty or so feet off the floor, and the only visible entrance or exit to the room was a single door near the ceiling, with some steel catwalk and stairs down to where we were.

  The room was lit in yellow light by evenly spaced cylindrical floodlights in metal cages ringed around the ceiling. There were stains on the walls and floor: mildew and water marks. The concrete was two-toned, with the lower half a lighter shade than the upper half. The floor was very slightly concave, sloping down to where the drains were located in the middle of the room. A pair of metal tables and fifteen or sixteen matching metal chairs were the only other things in the room, other than the group of people from the van.

  The room smelled slightly of must and chemicals.

  About half the people in the room took seats and relaxed. The other half milled about, looking at the room we found ourselves in. A few people spoke quietly, small talk sorts of things you might say while waiting in line at a grocery store.

  It was surreal and very concerning. I wasn’t going to take over, not yet.

  So, what do you think, Silver?

  It seems very…

  Industrial? I offered when she failed to finish her sentence.

  Yeah, very industrial.

  Mhm. Why don’t you go take a look at the door?

  We’re supposed to wait here, aren’t we?

  Sure, sure. But we’re not leaving. I’m just curious, humor me.

  She climbed up the steep staircase and walked along the catwalk over to the door. It was a heavy, ugly thing. Solid metal from what I could tell, set into a heavy frame. The handle was more like what you’d see on a hatch for a boat than what you’d see in a building.

  Is it locked?

  She tried the handle, and it didn’t budge or wiggle at all. Not that she was strong enough to force it even if she needed to.

  Okay, seems like it’s locked. We can go back down now, thanks.

  This was clearly some kind of industrial location, but I wasn’t sure for what, exactly. Not for people, that much was readily apparent. If it weren’t for the addition of chairs and tables, I’d be more concerned than I already was. Breaking out of here would be noisy, at the very least. Things could get ugly quickly if someone were posted on the other side of that door.

  I took the opportunity to look over the people.

  A middle-aged man wearing coveralls and work boots. A young woman wearing a purple hoodie with chipped purple nail polish. A middle-aged woman with dark circles under her eyes, wearing slightly wrinkled office clothing. A younger guy wearing a dirty kitchen apron, with patterns shaved in the sides of his close-cropped hair.

  To my eye, it looked like a random sampling of whoever they’d managed to pull off the streets. No pattern to it from what I could see. Well, that wasn’t quite true. Everyone looked to be an adult, or at the very least, a late teen. No children, and nobody past their mid-forties.

  Interesting.

  Hmm? Silver asked.

  Oh, nothing. Just thinking to myself.

  About what?

  The situation we’re in currently, for the most part.

  Oh. I’m not too worried. I think we’ll get going soon and be back home in no time.

  Maybe. I have ideas that things might go differently. And… I mentally sighed. I suppose I owe you an apology for getting you into all of this. We’d be back home already if I hadn’t given you suggestions to do other things.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Why did you, anyway?

  It’s stupid in hindsight, I muttered.

  Tell me anyway?

  I sighed mentally. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I thought I’d show you what my life was like. Before, I mean. As a hero.

  She was silent for several long beats.

  That’s sweet of you.

  Don’t say that. At least not until we’re out of this mess.

  Is it… really that bad?

  Hang on, I have an idea.

  I bumped her off the driver’s seat. She immediately started screaming in our head.

  Well, that confirms that suspicion.

  Ahh! We’re going to fucking die! This is serial killer shit! They’re never going to find my body!

  I tongued the inside of my cheek and strolled over to glance at the large drains in the floor while she got her freak-out out of her system. I couldn’t see much. It was several pipes–large ones–situated around a central, heavy, galvanized steel grating. The grate was bolted into place with some serious hardware, and the bolts were partially corroded, but it looked like it was only surface-level corrosion. The pipes weren’t big enough to fit in, perhaps a foot in diameter, and they curved off into different directions and out of sight.

  There was a possibility of escape there. I wasn’t looking forward to it, and I didn’t know how well Silver would take it, if it came to that. I brought my eyes up to survey the people here once again.

  I didn’t want to leave them unattended. I was getting some pretty serious bad vibes from this entire ordeal so far, and I wasn’t sure that I’d be able to find them again if I made my exit to try and get help.

  I still wanted to know what this was all about, too. Nothing good, I assumed, but still. Information was power, and I didn’t like being in the dark.

  Silver was just crying at this point, the screaming having died down.

  How- how are you so calm about all of this?

  I rolled my head around on my shoulders, stretching my neck muscles with my eyes closed.

  I’ve been in worse situations. Much worse, actually. I’m fairly confident that I can get us out of this without too much of an issue. The thing is… I don’t particularly want to get us out of it at the moment.

  You’re insane. Other-me lost her mind. I’m doomed.

  My chest jolted in a chuckle that I held in. If only she knew.

  I did, but I found it again. And I’m not insane.

  Great. That’s just great. I’m happy for you that you found your lost marbles. Acerbic sarcasm dripped from her voice.

  I get that you’re concerned for your safety. That makes perfect sense. You should be. The thing is, I’m not concerned about our safety.

  Clearly! She practically shouted into my ear.

  Can you not shout in my head? Thanks. My response was perhaps a bit more growly than I’d have liked, and I could feel her flinching.

  …As I was going to say. I’m not concerned about our safety; I’m concerned about their safety.

  I purposefully looked over the other people in the room, knowing full well that she was seeing what I was seeing.

  I could get us out of here pretty easily, but to what ends? You’re not wrong that this seems pretty grim, right? What about them?

  So leave! Call someone! Emergency services, the PRT, I don’t know, the fucking army, or something!

  They have a Master. We leave here, and they can just relocate these people and do whatever it is they want. Which, by the way, we need to figure out what their objective is, too.

  Why? Why do WE need to do that?

  Because they’re up to no good. Because without knowing what it is they’re trying to do, all we have is a modus operandi without a motive. You need both a MO and a motive if you’re going to try to figure things out. Let’s say they get away, or we get away. If we know those things, we can use them to track them back down. If we’re in the dark, then we have very little to go off.

  I’m… I’m not…

  I waited for her to finish her thought, but I had a good idea of what she was going to say already.

  You’re not what?

  I’m not a hero, not like you! I shouldn’t be trying to fight villains and rescue people, or do any of this… shit!

  I mentally licked my chops in her direction, my best approximation of a smile.

  Being a hero isn’t a job or a title, Silver. It’s a mindset. Those other things come after the fact.

  Yeah, okay. I’m just going to will myself to being a cape. Because clearly that’s how that works. She was back to sarcasm once again.

  It is. It actually is. Dragon taught me that. Haven’t you ever seen the news? ‘Man rescues pets from burning house.’ Being a hero doesn’t mean strapping on Spandeez and punching bad guys robbing banks. It doesn’t mean stopping some giant, nefarious plot and saving the entire world.

  Come on. You don’t seriously believe that. Stop trying to… cheer me up, or whatever this is.

  I do seriously believe that. What do you think being a hero is, Silver? Or should I call you princess, with the way you’re acting?

  You’re being a bitch again.

  Maybe. I get that you’re upset. You’re new to this, and you got pulled into the deep end. I thought maybe letting you splash in the shallow end of the pool would, I don’t know. Wake you up a little. Give you an idea of what my life was like. Stir some interest, maybe.

  I… I get what you were going for. Maybe just, I don’t know, talk it over, first, next time? Assuming we’re not dead inside a trash compactor tomorrow.

  There you go, that’s the positive thinking you need. Anyways, yeah, back to the point. Being a hero is a mindset. Tell me, truthfully. Would you want to escape here if it meant that everyone else here would never be seen or heard from again?

  I– Her voice carried indignation clearly at first, but she paused. I still think getting out and calling for help would be the smart thing.

  What if we call for help, but it doesn’t get here in time, and Mr. Big starts getting violent? What then?

  I don’t know! I don’t do this! You’d take over and… do whatever it is you do.

  I’m not asking you what I’d do. I know what I’d do. I’m asking you what YOU would do? We’ll make this easy. We’ll say that you have all of my powers, and you can use them however you like. What then?

  I could feel her squirming in my head. Her discomfort as she thought through things. Warring with herself. She didn’t answer as the silence stretched between us.

  You don’t need to answer. You just need to think about it.

  She didn’t speak, instead performing the mental equivalent of a nod.

  I need you to take back over. I’m not going anywhere.

  I don’t want to. Not… now. Now that you’ve, I don’t know, broken the illusion, or whatever.

  I will, when the time is right. But I can’t be in the driver’s seat all the time. I need you up front.

  Why? This is what you’re all about, isn’t it?

  Think about it, Silver.

  All I’m thinking about is how I feel like I’m going to throw up from the stress.

  I mentally sighed once again. You weren’t immune to the Master effect, so what makes you think that I would be?

  I… I thought it was your power, or something?

  I don’t think so. I think I wasn’t affected because most people don’t have more than one of themselves kicking around in their cranium. You can obviously understand why it might not be a good idea for me to get mind-controlled, right?

  …Because they could use your powers then?

  Bingo. And that would be, shall we say, very bad.

  So you’re going to let me get brainwashed again, instead? That’s not much of an improvement!

  No, it isn’t. And I have ideas on how to prevent that from happening, at least, when I’m in the driver's seat. But it’s going to give up the game, show our hand, reveal us as not being one of the fish that they thought they were catching. When that happens? That’s when things are going to escalate quickly. And I’m still trying to put that off, for now. So can you play along? I won’t let you do anything you’ll regret, if it comes to that.

  What… what do I have to do?

  Take back over. Act like you’re calm, try to actually remain calm, too. Play along with what they want.

  Fine, I’ll–

  A thump and a clank sounded from the door up above our heads.

  Showtime, you’re up. You’re going to be totally fine.

  I all but shoved her into the front and took position back in the rear. I felt our heart do a fluttery backflip in our chest.

  Breathe slowly. Don’t clench your hands. Pretend you’re strolling in a park, that’s the sort of vibe he was fostering.

  Shut up! This isn’t easy, you know!

  She glanced up as the door squealed on its hinges and Mr. Big stepped through, followed by Mr. Small, who was carrying a silvery, metal-looking briefcase. The two made their way down the staircase and over to one of the unoccupied tables. Mr. Small put his metal case on the table and opened it.

  I wasn’t able to see what was inside from the position we were in.

  “Alright, everyone. Please form a line in front of the table for me. Nice and orderly, please!”

  Silver drifted toward the rear of the formation. Mr. Small pulled out a clipboard and a pen from his case and started quietly asking people questions one at a time, then handing them something. The line moved quickly, and within a few minutes, it was our turn.

  Silver was doing a pretty good job at maintaining her composure, which was good, because Mr. Big was mean-mugging each of us from the side of the table while we interacted with Mr. Small.

  I wonder what type of Brute he is… I hope it’s not one of the annoying ones.

  I’m trying to concentrate on not losing my shit, and you’re not helping here! Silver chided me.

  “Hello again, I have a few quick questions for you, and then, a gift.”

  Silver nodded.

  “How old are you?”

  “Eighteen.”

  “Occupation?”

  “Student.”

  “Your sex is…”

  “Female.”

  I watched him fill out a simple form in blue ink from the periphery of Silver’s vision, which was focused on his face. She was calming down again, and I expected that it was the influence of his power at work.

  “Any major medical conditions?”

  Silver shook her head.

  “Are you on any medications? Anything that isn’t over-the-counter?”

  “No medications.”

  He asked a few more mundane questions of the sort you’d expect from a clinic or doctor’s office. Which was confusing to me, as it wasn’t at all what I’d expected.

  Finally, he looked up from his paperwork and made eye contact with us. Smiling and asking in a nonchalant voice, he asked: “Do you have any powers?”

  “Sort of?” Silver answered. I saw Mr. Big twitch, and his head turned to face us directly. Mr. Small cocked an eyebrow in response to her answer.

  Fuck.

  “Please explain,” he said in a warm, compassionate voice. I mentally jerked Silver to the side of the driver’s seat so I could do the equivalent of shouting out of the driver's side window.

  I brought her hands up and stroked her hair with her fingertips, and smiled wistfully, using her face. “I consider my genetics like my own personal superpower.”

  He paused, pen poised over his paper. “You said you don’t have a medical condition?”

  “My pigment issue doesn’t really impact my health. Well, I guess it makes me more susceptible to…”

  He held a hand up, and I shoved Silver back into position.

  “Tell me the truth. Do you have parahuman abilities?”

  I mentally prepared to take back over at a moment’s notice. This could be it.

  “No, I don’t,” Silver said.

  I let out the breath I'd been holding in.

  He resumed smiling and checked a box on his sheet. “Great! What’s your favorite color?”

  “Orange,” Silver replied automatically.

  He turned his gaze to the box, and I saw his eyes roaming over the contents. I couldn’t see…

  He lifted a foam tray out of the box. It was mostly filled with tiny glass bottles with rubber stoppers. Brightly-colored fluids sloshed around inside as he held it to the side, then pulled one out and handed it to me. It was filled with a bright orange liquid.

  “This is for you! A buzzer will sound in a few minutes. When it does, take the top off and drink the contents all at once. You might experience some discomfort after drinking it; that’s normal, and nothing to worry about.”

  “Okay. What is it?” Silver asked him.

  He just smiled and said, “Vitamins.”

  She nodded, and he motioned for her to move along to make room for the next in line.

  I was confident that what was in that bottle was not vitamins. I briefly toyed with the idea of imbibing it to see what happened. If it had just been me, I might have. I think my power would have been able to handle whatever was inside. I didn’t want to risk Silver more than I already had, though.

  How do you feel?

  Fine.

  Are you going to drink that?

  I’m supposed to, yeah.

  Ugh. Human Masters made my fucking skin crawl.

  A few minutes passed while we waited for the last few people to be interviewed, and then Mr. Small closed his briefcase and headed upstairs. Before stepping out of the heavy door, he turned and looked back down at us from the catwalk. “Thank you all for your cooperation! We’ll begin shortly, and then you can all resume your business when we’re done.”

  People nodded along. I took over and played the part. Silver started mentally hyperventilating when I tossed her into the back seat.

  We’re fine. You’re fine. We’re not going to drink that. It could be the exact evidence that we’re looking for. I think I’ll be making my move here shortly.

  P-please. I don’t want to be here a second longer than we have to be.

  We won’t, I promise. I assured her.

  There was a pause, then she whispered, I’m scared.

  In our weird, shared little mental space, I reached out with my lower arms and squeezed her shoulders firmly. She let out a tortured sob, and I felt her trembling under my claws.

  You haven’t really experienced me using my power for real before. Or felt what it’s like to be me. The real me, not the me driving you around like a puppet.

  O-okay? She sniffled.

  It can be pretty unpleasant when I change, usually worse when it’s fast, but I remember being kind of grossed out about it, once upon a time. Doesn’t really rustle my wings anymore.

  Why are you telling me this? Aren’t things bad enough already?

  I’m telling you because you’re probably going to experience it second-hand when I decide to make my move, and so you can have a moment to prepare yourself. It can be violent and painful, but only briefly. It’s… I’d say it’s more disturbing than painful, I suppose. Anyways, try not to panic too much, and trust me, okay?

  I’ll try…

  And I’ll try to keep things on the minimal side as much as possible. We’re going to be fine. We’ll get through this. I promise you.

  I wish… She swallowed and took a ragged breath. I wish I had the confidence that you seem to always have.

  I let my tongue loll out, not that she could see it currently with her head downturned. I think my amusement carried through in my voice, though.

  You do have it, you just don’t realize it. I can help you find it when we’re through all of this shit.

  I’d like that.

  Mr. Big climbed up the staircase and rapped his meaty fist off the inside of the door, and it clanked and thunked from the other side. I saw him turn to look down at us.

  Showtime, Silver. Say it with me.

  It’s showtime, I guess.

  Mhm.

  The electric buzz sound reverberated in the barren space.

  Everyone in the group brought their bottles up, pulled the stoppers off, and tossed back the contents.

  I mimed doing the same, and palmed the bottle with the stopper still securely in place. I had my eyes firmly planted on the other occupants to observe their reactions so I could copy them. I also fired up a change, an auditory block switch, and for subtle quills on my inner arms. A dozen each, just in case I needed to subdue some of the other people. I kept some other, more obvious changes on standby in case they were needed.

  The people in the room were gasping and writhing in place. Some were clutching at their throats, some had their eyes closed. Others were turning various shades of flushed. I followed suit as they seemed to be getting poisoned, or something. Trembling and shaking, like seizures, and some fell over, quickly followed by more and more, flopping on the floor like fish out of water.

  Then the blood-curdling screaming started.

  I dampened my hearing and played my part, twitching and jerking in a half-fetal position with my hair scattered across my face. My eyes were watching Mr. Big. I surreptitiously stuffed the bottle into my underwear for safekeeping and so that I’d have my hands free if needed.

  He didn’t seem surprised in the least, but he was cracking his knuckles and rolling his neck like he was about to throw down.

  Just what the fuck is going on here, exactly!?

  I had a feeling I’d soon find out.