The Path to Victory was sometimes hard to understand.

Why she had to show up on a particular intersection at a particular time with traffic cones and a detour sign wasn't something she understood, but on a deep down level she knew that this was somehow important.

She watched from the shadows as a car slowed ahead of her. A well dressed man and his young daughter stared at the sign, and the man turned to take the detour.

As she gathered up the cones and the signs, she wondered why the Path would have her send two people into the heart of ABB territory at this time of night. It seemed nonsensical, but the thought of not doing it created feelings of alarm.

Two people had to be assaulted; if they weren't it would literally mean the end of the world.

The Door opened and she stepped into another world.

A simple bribe and it was done.

The Winslow school secretary would shred any applications to Arcadia from Taylor Hebert, and she would be paid more each time an application came through.

Why the Path required a skinny fifteen year old girl to stay in a school that looked like the first circle of Dante's inferno she'd never know, but she knew that this too was critical.

Sometimes she felt a little like the Simurgh, creating Rube Goldburg-esc series of events, flapping butterfly wings that affected events across the world...possibly across all worlds. Except, she suspected that the Simurgh understood exactly what each step would accomplish, the horrors that would be unleashed all part of a larger plan.

Contessa only knew the steps she had to take to achieve her own plans, not the reason behind them. It was frustrating sometimes. Why did she have to buy a coffee from a cafe in Italy at exactly a certain time, or arrange for a car to be delayed?

She stiffened as she noticed a teenage girl walking down the hallway. She looked familiar; it took her a moment to recognize her. It had been months ago, but the red hair was distinctive.

It was unusual that the things she had to do were related.

Perhaps she should look into this school a little further, at least to assuage her curiosity.

Walking through the PRT late at night, supposedly on the way to a meeting, Contessa casually bumped a desk as she was passing by.

A set of papers fell into a trashcan by the desk. They'd be taken by the custodial staff and shredded before morning, long before the officer in charge had a chance to look at a rather damning report about bullying.

Shoving a girl in a locker with feminine wastes was bad enough. Leaving her for hours was worse. Getting the entire student body to go along with it was the icing on the cake.

Contessa knew what she was doing this time; she'd looked into it. Twenty years before she would have been sickened; aiding in the torture of a young girl wasn't ever something she would have aspired to.

However, with the fate of the world resting on her shoulders she couldn't afford compassion.

Tragedy sometimes led to strength. Contessa certainly hoped so; she hoped that years of soul crushing steps along the Path would be worth it in the end.

Saving the world was the only goal she cared about, and if it meant she had to be a villain so be it.

Still, she hoped that this would be the last she would see of Taylor Hebert. The girl had been though enough already, and she wasn't even sixteen years old.

At least the girl wasn't likely to be a major player. Contessa suspected that if she was this much trouble without powers, she'd be a major pain with them.

As she left, Contessa couldn't help but wonder if she was missing something.

It bugged her.