Chapter 7:
– Amy –
Amy sat at the dinner table, trying desperately not to roll her eyes as Vicky and Carol continued fussing over her newly discovered ability to heal herself. Inwardly, she cursed Silas Thorn and his stupid, ridiculously handsome face. This was entirely his fault, after all. Him and his weird, overpowered, reality-breaking powers had somehow infected her—and now she was stuck having to explain herself to her worried mother and overly excited sister.
"Come on, Amy," Vicky whined impatiently, practically bouncing in her seat with excitement. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with envy. "Do the glowy-hand thing again! I want to see more of this crazy magic of yours."
Amy sighed, feeling a headache brewing. A headache that she can technically heal now, but still! "Vicky, stop pestering me already. I don't even know how I did it the first time! It just happened, okay? Calm down."
Vicky didn't calm down at all. Instead, she leaned across the table, practically climbing onto Amy's lap in her eagerness. "Yeah, but Amy—this is actual fucking magic! Magic from another universe! Seriously, do you have any idea how incredibly jealous I am right now?"
"Yeah, I got that," Amy said dryly. She rubbed her forehead with one hand, trying to ignore the growing tension in the room. She wasn't used to this kind of attention—and she didn't particularly like it. Especially since her mother was watching her so intently, her sharp lawyer's eyes narrowed in thoughtful, suspicious assessment.
Carol cleared her throat, finally interrupting Vicky's endless gushing. "Amy," she said carefully, voice calm but edged with concern, "I really think we need to report this development to the PRT immediately. An unexpected new ability, especially something this significant—it could have serious implications."
Amy stiffened at once, glancing toward her mother with clear annoyance. "No way. I'm not running to the PRT about this, Mom. Not yet, at least. This...this ability, whatever it is—this is mine." Her voice softened slightly as she tried to explain herself. "Think about it. My powers have always only worked on other people. I've healed everyone from broken bones to terminal cancer, but I've never once been able to fix so much as a paper cut on myself. This magic or whatever—I don't want them poking and prodding me over it. Not now. Not when I've finally got something for myself!"
Carol's mouth tightened into a thin, worried line. "Amy, I understand wanting privacy, but—"
Amy held up her hand sharply, cutting off her mother's argument. "Car–Mom… Please. Can't I have this one thing to myself, at least for now? Just a day or two to process it before everyone jumps all over me about tests and forms and procedures? It's already stressful enough as it is."
Carol hesitated, visibly conflicted. Eventually, she let out a reluctant sigh. "Alright. A day or two," she conceded softly. "But promise me that if anything else changes, or if you discover more about this...magic, you'll come straight to us. Deal?"
Amy nodded quickly, relief flooding through her. "Deal. Thanks, Mom." Amy was surprised Carol conceded. This was definitely a new development lately with her mother but Amy couldn't say she hated it…
Satisfied—at least temporarily—Carol turned her attention back to her meal.
But Vicky clearly wasn't ready to drop the subject just yet. She nudged Amy's arm again, her eyes practically shining mischievously. "So...what else do you think you can do? Can you cast fireballs now? Teleport? Summon a 'snarky' magic dragon or something!?"
Amy groaned softly, burying her face briefly in her hands. "For God's sake, Vicky, don't be ridiculous. It's just a little healing spell…"
Vicky's grin didn't falter. "But you healed yourself! I bet that means you could do all sorts of cool things! Maybe you could finally stop your periods, too! You know, since you always make mine disappear."
Amy blushed slightly at the reminder, feeling faintly embarrassed. Her sister had a point, though. She was jealous every single time Vicky breezed through her month without cramps or irritation. Amy had always hated that her powers had never let her experience the same luxury.
She lowered her voice to a whisper, making sure Carol wasn't paying attention. "I mean...yeah. Maybe. I was just thinking about exactly that, actually…"
Maybe she would actually thank Silas later.
…After the pervert gave her back her freaking costume! And he better damn have it because she was not looking forwards to telling Carol she lost her expensive bullet proof cape costume. There would be so many more questions that would be worse to explain than why she suddenly had magic…
– Silas –
I woke up the next morning feeling more rested than I had in days.
After everything that had happened these last few days, a normal night's sleep was exactly what I'd needed. For a brief moment, I considered just rolling back over and ignoring the world entirely. Then again, something about living on the Rig—a literal floating superhero fortress—made me suspect that skipping out on responsibilities probably wasn't the best idea…
My suspicion was immediately confirmed by a firm, polite knocking at the door. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and swung my legs over the edge of the bed.
"Silas? Are you awake?" Miss Militia's gentle, muffled voice came through the door. "I have something important to talk to you about."
I yawned widely, scratching at the back of my head as I shuffled across the room. When I opened the door, Miss Militia stood there in full costume—camo fatigues, American-flag scarf wrapped neatly around her face. Watching me carefully. Even this early, she looked completely put-together and professional.
The exact opposite of how I felt right then. Still wearing the workout clothes I went to sleep in. Sophia and I weren't up too late in the gym because she told me there was something she had to take care of early in the morning, but I was up regardless. Struggling to fall asleep as the past few days really sunk in.
"Yeah, I'm up," I said, stifling another yawn. "What's going on?"
Miss Militia's eyes curved up slightly at the edges, betraying the faint smile hidden beneath her scarf. "Well, Silas, I know yesterday was strange. But we still have protocols we need to follow—especially when it comes to the Wards…"
I blinked at her slowly, my sleepy brain taking a second to process what she was implying. "Protocols? Like what?"
She hesitated, almost as if bracing for my reaction. "Like school, Silas. Despite everything that's happened recently, you're technically still enrolled at Winslow High. And unless there's a real emergency, Wards aren't allowed to just skip classes…"
My heart dropped slightly. Fuck. School. With everything going on, I had honestly completely forgotten about that little detail. I groaned, rubbing my forehead. "You can't be serious?"
Maybe I should have just gone the vigilante route…
Miss Militia chuckled softly, sympathetic but firm. "Rules are rules, and education matters—even to superheroes."
I sighed, resigned to my fate. "Fine. Whatever. I'll go. But how exactly am I supposed to get there from here? Are you guys expecting me to take the bus like nothing's changed?"
Her eyes sparkled with mild amusement. "No buses needed. I'll be driving you myself—on my motorcycle."
I paused at that, raising an eyebrow skeptically. "Wouldn't that kinda make me stand out? Aren't we supposed to be hiding my identity, or whatever?"
She winced slightly, visibly uncomfortable. "Ah. About that... There's actually something else you need to know." Miss Militia shifted awkwardly, clearly unsure how to break the news gently. "Late last night, an anonymous PHO account posted a video from the hospital. It showed your trigger event, clearly captured alongside Panacea. Your civilian identity is no longer private. Actually, at this point, your identity is completely public…"
"Oh," I replied slowly, digesting the news. Strangely, I wasn't nearly as upset as I'd expected to be. Maybe it was because I had mentally prepared for this possibility already. Or maybe I just didn't really care about secret identities all that much to begin with. "I guess that means riding to school on your motorcycle won't exactly make things worse."
Miss Militia nodded, relief evident in her posture. "Exactly. If your identity hadn't already leaked, we would've arranged something more discreet. But now there's no real reason to hide it. And honestly, arriving at Winslow with a Protectorate escort might actually be safer for you right now."
I shrugged, unfazed. "Works for me. Let me get dressed real quick, and I'll meet you by the Rig's main entrance."
Miss Militia gave a grateful nod. "Thank you, Silas. I'll wait for you there. Don't take too long—school starts in less than an hour."
"Got it," I promised, closing the door again and letting out another deep sigh.
This was so bizarre. I'd gone from nearly losing my virginity to a Panacea and the sexy dragonborn Hildra, to teaming up with Shadow Stalker, and then shocking a Nazi into unconsciousness, and finally officially joining a government-sponsored hero team.
Now I was expected to show up at school and act like everything was normal?
I moved back into the room, pulling off the plain white t-shirt I'd slept in and carelessly tossing it onto the floor. Just as I was about to dig through the dresser for clothes, the door suddenly cracked open behind me.
"Oh, one more thing—" Miss Militia's voice cut off abruptly as she saw me shirtless. She let out an embarrassed squeak, her eyes widening dramatically. Her cheeks reddened as she immediately spun around, facing the hallway. "Silas! Please—don't just start changing clothes in front of me!"
She was the one who walked in on me though…
I laughed softly at her startled reaction, already feeling better about the ridiculous morning I was having. "Sorry about that, Miss Militia. I figured you were already gone."
"Clearly," she muttered, voice muffled by her scarf. "Just... hurry up, please. I'll meet you outside."
Once she quickly retreated, firmly shutting the door behind her, I managed to get myself properly dressed in some casual jeans, a dark shirt, and a jacket that fit surprisingly well. It felt good to be back in normal clothes again. Skyrim's rough leather armor had gotten really uncomfortable.
A few minutes later, I passed a lot of security checkpoints until I made my way outside to the Rig's main entrance. Miss Militia stood waiting by her motorcycle, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently against the ground.
"About time," she teased lightly, tossing me a sleek black helmet. "Hop on, and hold tight."
I slid the helmet onto my head and climbed onto the seat behind her. "You ever driven a Ward to school like this before?" I asked curiously, wrapping my arms cautiously around her slender waist.
"Believe it or not, Silas, you're my first," she replied dryly, starting the engine.
Miss Militia drove fast. Seriously fast!
Even with my enhanced senses from being Dragonborn, the speed was something else entirely. My arms tightened instinctively around her waist as we took corners at reckless speeds. The wind whipped around us, sharp and cold even through my jacket, and I squeezed my eyes shut briefly, pressing my body against her back just to hold on.
Despite the rapid pace, I became distinctly aware of exactly how Miss Militia felt against me. She was slender, toned, muscular in all the right places—but soft and warm, too. It didn't help that her tight combat fatigues hugged every curve of her body. The steady vibration of the motorcycle only intensified things.
I bit the inside of my cheek, trying desperately to think about anything else. Skyrim, dragons, Nazis, whatever—anything that would distract me. But it didn't really work, and I felt myself start to get embarrassingly hard. I mentally cursed myself, hoping she wouldn't notice.
But of course, she did.
Miss Militia suddenly stiffened in my arms. Her back went rigid for a brief second. It was only a tiny reaction, but enough to make my face flush hot with embarrassment.
"Sorry," I muttered awkwardly, my voice drowned out by the roar of the engine and the wind. If she heard me, she gave no indication. Instead, she just adjusted her grip on the handlebars and pressed the motorcycle even faster. Clearly, her strategy for dealing with this was pretending it hadn't happened, which honestly worked just fine for me…
We flew through Brockton Bay streets at lightning speed, blatantly ignoring at least half a dozen traffic laws along the way. Red lights meant nothing. Speed limits were merely suggestions. And lane markers? Apparently, those were just decorative.
Finally, Winslow High loomed up ahead, and Miss Militia expertly skidded the motorcycle to a stop right in front of the main entrance. I quickly released her waist, relieved and embarrassed in equal measure, and stumbled a bit awkwardly off the bike. My legs felt a little shaky beneath me as I straightened up and took off the helmet she'd given me. The boner in my pants also quickly went back down which I was thankful for.
That's when I finally took notice of my surroundings. Dozens of students were gathered near the front doors, all of them frozen in place, openly gawking at us in shock. I glanced around slowly, feeling a sudden rush of self-consciousness. Everyone had their phones out, filming or taking pictures, whispering excitedly to one another.
"Great," I muttered under my breath. "Just fantastic."
Miss Militia stepped off the bike gracefully, completely composed, like a celebrity used to constant attention. She tugged her scarf up just a little, hiding her smile from everyone but me. "Welcome to fame, Silas," she said quietly, amusement clear in her voice.
"Is this seriously what it's like every day?" I asked, genuinely curious.
Miss Militia nodded slowly, suddenly serious again. "Unfortunately, yes. It's not always fun. But at least for today, you might enjoy the attention a bit." She turned back toward the motorcycle and pulled something from a saddlebag. "Before I forget—this is for you."
She handed me a black backpack with the distinctive PRT logo subtly embroidered onto one side. It looked sturdy, practical, and extremely government-issued. "What's in it?" I asked curiously, accepting it.
"Standard emergency supplies, mostly," she explained briskly. "Extra notebooks, pens, pencils, a calculator, textbooks—basic school supplies to replace anything you lost recently. Plus emergency money, some energy bars, and a secure phone that links directly to the PRT."
I raised an eyebrow skeptically. "A direct line to the PRT? You expecting trouble today?"
She shook her head quickly, reassuring. "Not really. Villains attacking schools is rare because of the unwritten rules. Nobody sane wants the Protectorate coming down on them that hard. But just in case..." Miss Militia leaned closer, her voice low and firm. "If anyone—any villain or criminal—so much as thinks about messing with my Wards, they'll quickly find out just how seriously I take my new job!"
I swallowed, impressed by the sheer intensity of her protective glare. She might've been new as the head of the Wards, but Miss Militia wasn't playing around. "Thanks, mom militia!" I said and she pouted at me.
"I hate that name…" she muttered, before telling me to call if I needed anything.
I told her I would.
As she swung back onto her motorcycle, I turned toward the school's entrance. Everyone around me quickly parted, still staring wide-eyed.
– Sophia –
Sophia pulled Emma and Madison quickly into an empty classroom down the hall before first period started. The door shut quietly behind her, and she leaned against it, eyeing the two girls carefully. Madison looked nervous—then again, Madison was almost always nervous, Sophia realized. It was just part of her personality at this point. Emma, on the other hand, practically vibrated with barely contained excitement.
"So?" Emma whispered fiercely, grinning wide. "Today's the day. The locker prank—we've been setting this shit up for months! Taylor's gonna be completely wrecked. Tell me it's all good."
Sophia hesitated for a moment, running a hand over her face. She took a deep breath and shook her head. "Yeah, about that," she finally muttered. "We're not doing the locker prank. I cancelled it."
Emma's expression froze instantly, eyes wide with shock and disbelief. She stepped forward sharply, getting right into Sophia's personal space. "Wait, what the fuck do you mean 'cancelled'? Sophia, we've literally planned this out for weeks! Everything was perfect!"
Madison shifted anxiously, her eyes darting back and forth between them, clearly unsure what to say. She tugged nervously at the ends of her hair and avoided meeting Sophia's eyes. Typical Madison, never comfortable with confrontation.
"Look, Emma, relax," Sophia said firmly, trying to sound reasonable despite her growing irritation. "I got here super early this morning and used my powers to clean out Taylor's locker. Disinfected it, wiped it clean, got rid of every disgusting thing we put in there." Her face twisted with disgust, remembering the experience. "And let me fucking tell you, it was the most vile thing I've ever done in my life. Seriously, Emma. I had to take three fucking showers in the gym locker rooms afterward!"
Emma's shocked disbelief quickly morphed into anger. "You cleaned it up? Why the fuck would you do that, Sophia? The whole point was to make Taylor finally break! It was supposed to ruin her once and for all!"
Sophia's eyes narrowed dangerously, her expression shifting into annoyance. "Keep your voice down, Emma. Fuck's sake. Look—I have a damn good reason, okay?"
Emma's face was flushed with anger, but she held her tongue, clearly waiting for Sophia's explanation.
Sophia glanced at Madison briefly, who looked uncertain, then back to Emma. She sighed deeply. "So, the Protectorate got a new Ward yesterday. That Silas Thorn guy—you've both seen the videos on PHO, right? He's going to school here now, and…" Sophia trailed off, a slight blush rising to her cheeks. "Well, he made it clear he doesn't like bullies."
Emma paused, blinking in surprise, her anger fading slightly. "Wait—Silas? The guy who triggered in the hospital next to Panacea? He's actually going here?" Her tone shifted rapidly, becoming curious and excited. "No shit? Seriously? How did we never notice him before? He looked kinda hot in those PHO clips, too…"
Sophia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms defensively. "Yeah, that's the guy. And yes, he's actually going here. I met him yesterday. He joined the Wards officially. Dude took down fucking Rune from the Empire instantly. I was right there with him. Trust me, Emma, he's a total badass. A predator."
Emma raised an eyebrow, a knowing grin suddenly spreading across her face. "Uh-huh. And is there maybe another reason you want us to suddenly play nice with Taylor besides all that?"
Sophia felt her face heat up even further, annoyance mingling with embarrassment. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Emma smirked smugly, folding her arms. "Come on, Sophia. You're blushing like crazy. You've never even glanced at a boy before. Never showed any interest in anyone at this school. And now suddenly, this mysterious, strong, and probably hot-as-hell new cape appears, and you immediately stop messing with Taylor—something we've been doing for over a year. You really expect me to believe you don't have an ulterior motive?"
Sophia sputtered indignantly, desperately trying to regain control. "Fuck off, Emma. It's not like that. This isn't about me wanting to fuck the guy—" She immediately stopped herself, realizing that was exactly what it sounded like. Emma's smug grin widened triumphantly. Madison, for her part, looked stunned and amazed.
"Holy shit, Sophia," Madison murmured quietly. "Do you actually like someone? Is that even possible?"
Sophia groaned softly, burying her face briefly in her hands. "I hate both of you so much right now."
Emma laughed openly, her anger forgotten, clearly delighted by this unexpected turn of events. "Okay, fine. I get it now. We lay off Taylor Hebert, because you're crushing hard on the new guy who doesn't tolerate bullying. That's fucking adorable. Seriously. Who knew Shadow Stalker even had hormones…?"
Sophia glared fiercely, though the blush on her cheeks only deepened. "You're an asshole, Emma."
Emma simply shrugged casually, unfazed. "Maybe, but I'm also your best friend. And hey—if backing off from Taylor helps you land a hot superhero boyfriend, then I guess I can sacrifice some petty vengeance. For now…"
Madison looked visibly relieved, finally relaxing a little. She spoke quietly. "...Honestly, I'm kind of glad we're not doing it. I was feeling pretty uncomfortable about the whole thing. It seemed really messed up."
Sophia nodded at her briefly. After cleaning all that shit up… She could agree the locker thing was a step too far.
Emma took a step closer, suddenly serious again. "So Silas? Does he know who you are? Out of costume, I mean?"
Sophia shook her head. "No. At least, not yet. But I'm planning to fix that soon."
Emma's eyes immediately lit up, excitement sparkling openly. "Oh! Introduce me, too! Seriously, Sophia, if you're not claiming him for yourself already, I definitely want a shot!"
Sophia groaned loudly, rolling her eyes again at her friend's blunt thirstiness. "Emma. Could you at least pretend to have some dignity?"
Emma shrugged shamelessly, smiling widely. "Nope. Dignity's overrated."
"Fine," she finally muttered dryly. "I'll introduce you—eventually. But only after I've talked to him alone first!"
Emma's grin widened triumphantly. "Deal."
Sophia pushed off from the door, stepping past her friends toward the hallway. "Come on," she called back to them. "Let's go. If I'm skipping out on making Taylor miserable, I might as well enjoy something else today. Like watching the entire school lose their shit when they find out we've got a new cape student."
– Silas –
Walking through the halls of Winslow felt fucking surreal. Students stared at me like I was some kind of exotic zoo exhibit, openly pointing, whispering to each other. Some didn't even bother to whisper, talking loud enough for me to hear every word.
"Dude, is that really him? The new cape from PHO?"
"Yeah, man! That's Silas Thorn, the guy who triggered alongside Panacea!"
"No shit! I heard he took down Rune last night. It's all over the forums."
I winced slightly hearing that last bit. I hadn't expected news about last night's confrontation with Rune to get out quite so quickly. Then again, Brockton Bay was basically drowning in cape gossip. It was naive to think something like that wouldn't leak almost immediately.
Ignoring the murmurs, I kept moving, trying to stay calm and act casual. Winslow was exactly as rundown and shitty as I remembered—flickering fluorescent lights, peeling paint, the faint smell of mold everywhere. Honestly, it was hard to believe I'd forgotten how terrible this place really was after just a few days away in a fantasy world.
I rounded the corner toward my first-period classroom and stopped short.
Five white kids—big guys, all with shaved heads—stood directly in my path, blocking the hallway completely. They stared at me, sneering openly.
My eyes quickly noted the baseball bat gripped tightly in one kid's hand. Another guy, standing slightly behind him, casually flipped open a switchblade. The other three didn't have any visible weapons, but their clenched fists and eager glares made their intentions pretty damn clear.
Great. My first morning back at school, and I was already dealing with Nazi wannabes. Seriously, fuck school...
I sighed, rolling my shoulders back slightly, meeting the gaze of the largest guy—the one holding the baseball bat. "Morning, gentlemen," I said dryly, forcing myself to sound casual despite the spike of adrenaline suddenly flooding my system. "Can I help you?"
The lead guy scowled deeper, taking a step forward. "You think you're fucking funny, Thorn? You messed with Rune last night. Got her arrested by your hero buddies. You fucked with the Empire. You made us look weak!"
I raised an eyebrow. "So, you're admitting you're Nazis out loud in the middle of the hallway at school? Bold move. Really fucking stupid, but bold."
His face flushed an ugly shade of red. He pointed the baseball bat threateningly in my direction. "We're the ones gonna teach you a lesson. Nobody fucks with the Empire!"
Behind him, the guy with the knife smiled nastily, flicking the blade in a way he probably thought was menacingly as the others moved to flank me. I glanced around quickly.
Dozens of other students had gathered, forming a wide circle around us, clearly excited to watch the coming fight. I briefly hoped one of them might actually do something useful—like getting a teacher or calling security—but of course, this was Winslow. They all had their phones out instead, ready to record everything instead.
Yeah that's about how I figured it would go.
I turned my attention back to the five idiots surrounding me, exhaling slowly and taking an amateurish fighting stance. Honestly, I had no formal training or anything. I definitely couldn't use lightning magic in the middle of the hallway, either.
No, this had to be done the old-fashioned way: fists only.
Thankfully, being Dragonborn meant I was considerably stronger and faster than the average high-school thug, even without my new Nightingale Costume to make me even tougher. I had no doubt I could handle these idiots.
The guy with the bat snarled and charged first, swinging clumsily toward my head. I ducked instinctively, his swing passing harmlessly over me. Before he could recover, I stepped in and slammed my fist hard into his stomach, feeling the satisfying impact as air whooshed out of his lungs. He doubled over, gasping for breath, dropping the bat loudly onto the floor.
Knife guy lunged next. Going for my torso. I twisted to the side, narrowly avoiding the blade as it whistled past my ribs. Grabbing his wrist, I twisted sharply and slammed his elbow down onto my raised knee. He let out a sharp cry of pain, dropping the knife immediately. My fist then lashed out and hit his jaw. His head whipped to the side with blood and spit flying out. He hit the ground hard and wasn't getting back up.
Two down, three to go.
The remaining skinheads exchanged uneasy glances, clearly reconsidering their decisions. But peer pressure was a bitch, and they all charged at once.
I blocked a sloppy punch aimed at my face, responding instantly with a jab to the guy's nose. There was a sharp crunch and a spray of blood as he stumbled backward with a pained yelp. Another grabbed me from behind, wrapping his arms tightly around my torso, but he wasn't even close to strong enough to hold me. I easily broke out with my strength before grabbing him and slamming him hard to the floor.
The final guy swung a clumsy haymaker toward my chin, trying to get me while I was distracted. I dodged easily, driving my fist straight into his jaw just like knife-guy.
I exhaled heavily, adrenaline still buzzing in my veins. All five of them were down or unconscious. None of them tried to get back up. The hallway fell completely silent for a second, then exploded into excited cheers and applause from the crowd gathered around us!
"Holy shit! He wrecked them all!"
"I got the whole thing on camera!" another voice called excitedly.
"Get fucked, Nazi's!"
I glanced around slowly, still breathing a little heavily. There were a lot of cameras on me. Yeah, this shit was definitely going straight to PHO.
"Alright, show's over," I called out loudly, trying to sound calm and authoritative despite the lingering adrenaline spike. "Someone actually wanna grab security now? That'd be great."
A few students finally scattered, running off down the hall toward the main office. The others stayed put, still filming, whispering excitedly, clearly thrilled by the unexpected morning spectacle.
I ducked into the nearest bathroom, letting the door swing shut behind me. My knuckles stung a bit from the fight, and there was a little blood splattered on my hands—none of it mine, thankfully.
I stepped up to the sink and turned on the faucet, watching the rusty Winslow water sputter before flowing clean. Slowly, I scrubbed my hands clean.
The last thing I needed was my first period teacher seeing me walking into class with blood on my hands and having a heart attack over it.
When I was sure I'd gotten it all off, I stared at my reflection in the dirty, cracked mirror. Making sure none of it had gotten on my clothes either. Thankfully, it was all good. I briefly considered calling Miss Militia–but it had barely been 10 minutes since she left and I'm pretty sure things were handled after the public beating those guys just got.
I almost jumped when a familiar blue notification screen suddenly flashed into existence right in front of my face!
[Congratulations! You have prevented the rise of two future villainesses, turning them toward the path of heroism instead. You have been awarded: Spell Tome: Flames.]
I blinked a few times.
Wait? What did I do now? Villainesses?
When did I do that? All the Nazi's I punched out were dudes though…?
Eh. Whatever. Honestly, I wasn't going to complain if m System wanted to reward me randomly for stuff. I didn't even know it could do that! Which was actually pretty freaking awesome. Would it award me everytime I did "hero stuff?"
I shrugged to myself and clicked my inventory screen, checking out the newly acquired tome.
I grinned slightly, pretty damn tempted to pull it out and learn it right then and there. Fire magic sounded awesome!
But on second thought...did I really need it?
I already had lightning, which was badass enough on its own. Lightning could do basically everything fire could, probably even better. More precise, faster, less risk of accidentally burning the whole damn place down. Realistically, fire would just be redundant in combat.
Another thought occurred to me. My mind drifted back to Amy—Panacea. Considering everything she'd been through because of me lately, maybe I owed her something nice. I didn't really need the Flames spell—but Amy might actually get some genuine use out of it. Her powers were scary as hell, but she still had to touch someone's bare skin for them to work. I think she'd appreciate some ranged offensive abilities to protect herself.
I could already picture the shock on her face later when I hand her the tome. I quickly rearranged my inventory, carefully sliding the "Spell Tome: Flames" icon, with my finger, right next to Panacea's neatly hero costume—which I still needed to return.
I exited the bathroom feeling a hell of a lot lighter and started walking toward my first-period class again. The hallway was already mostly clear. People had moved on now that the entertainment was over, and classes were starting soon. Maybe this day would finally settle down into something resembling normalcy now?
And just as I had that thought, the crackly intercom system blared out overhead, echoing throughout the entire building: "Silas Thorn, please make your way to the principal's office immediately. Silas Thorn to the principal's office…"
I paused mid-step, sighing deeply.
Yeah, I should have figured that was coming.
XXX
Stuff happened in this chapter! Along with things! And some Nazi's getting punched in their faces…
And just because they're not going to basically be "villains" anymore doesn't automatically make Emma and Sophia "good." They have a long way to go.