When I first got my powers I promised myself I would never use them on someone who didn't deserve it. And I mean really deserve it. Not even the people who had bullied me for nearly two years deserved that.

But it was so hard, I was sure the powers had done something to me, made me want to fight and keep fighting until there was nothing left. And the more the situation escalated the stronger the desire, and my powers, were.

So when the group of them had cornered me in the hallway to spew insult after insult framed in such a way that they weren't ever talking directly to me, I tried to distract myself with designing schematics for an acid thrower made out of Emma's wristwatch and smartphone battery. I would never do that, of course, even though she really needed to shut her stupid bitch face up and stop harassing me so I wouldn't get upset and use the other part of my power.

So when the hateful ice in my veins surged after another ridiculous jab about how much of a fat, ugly whore I was and the only reason I was so skinny was because my crackhead pimp kept giving me extra meth I finally wrenched my eyes off the ground and saw something surprising.

"None of them like you, Sophia," I said without meaning to. I retuned my power to see how everyone else thought of me, just to make sure. "They even like you less than they like me"

Which wasn't saying much.

"Fucking what?" Sophia sneered, her sharp dark eyes narrowing.

"Apart from Emma, no one really likes you. You'd have to be even more retarded than you think I am to not see it"

I turned to the group of hangers on recruited to torment me, my gaze flicking between their eyes.

"They all hate you because you're a rude bitch. And you hate them because they're a bunch of idiots who can't think for themselves"

They turned their collective denial of reality into anger, focusing it on me. The plan proceeded smoothly, my power reaching greater heights as the conflict escalated. Relationships between people and things became clearer, more detailed. My thoughts reached a crystal clarity, each one precise in its function, the sweet rush of getting smarter. Schematics for outrageous, wonderful pieces of tinkertech got more complex. I could feel there were other powers lurking in my head, giving me other benefits that I would soon discover and exploit.

"You really think you can play this game?" Emma said imperiously. "You're going to end up crying like a little bitch again, just like always. Does anybody want to all about how pathetic she is?"

I turned to the girl who had once been my best friend, the one person I would never ever hurt or betray.

"It doesn't matter what you say, Emma. What matters is what they think. And they already know you'd stab them in the back the first chance you get"

I tuned my relationship diviner between her and Sophia. What I gleaned was confusing. As far as I could tell Emma hero worshipped her for being cool and dark and mysterious because of something huge. She thought they were friends, and something else? A connection I didn't know how to parse.

"In fact," I continued, turning to face Sophia. "The only two people here who are friends are you and Sophia, and I have absolutely no idea why that is. Though I'm sure you have your… reasons"

I thrust my chin out and waggled my tongue to make sure they knew exactly what I was implying.

"You think you're being funny?" Sophia scoffed. "You stupid c-"

"Yeah," I cut her off. "And what the fuck're you gonna do about it?"

I focused all my power between us, processing how she felt, her expression, her body language and the thousand other little things that made leaning out of the way as she tried to shove me trivial. Sophia stumbled and I levelled at her a gaze so full of smugness even a Changer with a power specifically related to being a smug asshole would be hard pressed to match it.

There was a huge burst of humiliation and rage right before she slapped me so hard in the face I crashed into the wall behind me and slid down. Instead of pain there was only cold, my power and I welcomed it.

"Stay down, you pitiful fuck," she spat.

I pushed myself to my feet on limbs of burning ice, "oh no, we're going to go see the Principal"

Shock flittered across her face, a micro expression I wouldn't have seen had my power not been running so high.

"No we aren't," she said. "You're going to keep your mouth shut like always, because this is what you de-"

I leaned in as close as I could, putting my height to good use. I looked down my nose at her, straightening my glasses. "You chicken?" I asked.

For some reason being called a coward affected her more than the threat of the Principal. Interesting. Her jaw clenched, raw anger flashing in her eyes. She opened her mouth to reply and I pushed past one of her cronies before she could speak.

"Come on then," I jeered as I walked down the corridor. "Or are you going to puss out?"

She took the bait. The plan was going even better than I expected, had I really been such a meek little wallflower than this display of confidence put them off so much? My power roared as I strode quickly, Sophia in tow, towards the office of Principal Blackwell. Escalation to the highest level of authority I could swiftly access.

My eyes swept around the room, designs for a perfect lie detector/taser cobbled out of her computer fought from prominence in my thoughts, but I fought them down and concentrated on the situation at hand.

It was decidedly not going my way at all.

"I can't take action without evidence," Principal Blackwell said tiredly, doing her best impression of someone who was good at their job. "You say she hit you, she says you tripped"

She wasn't doing very well.

I glared, trying to piece together the clues into something I could use.

"This makes no sense," I ground out. "You don't like her, you know she did it. So why are you covering for her?"

"I'm not covering for anyone, Taylor," Blackwell said as Sophia sat splayed in her chair, smug as can be.

"No," I said. "You definitely are. I can see it in your eyes. You know, before today I always thought it might be because you were having an affair with Emma's dad"

I didn't, and Blackwell didn't like Alan Barnes at all either. But it pissed her off, and that's what I needed.

"And then I thought you might have been having an affair with Sophia, but that doesn't make sense since you really don't like her"

"Be careful you make such accusations," Blackwell spluttered.

"Oh, I haven't done that yet," I muttered. "And it's not blackmail either…"

Did one of them know someone higher up? My power grasped at the thought. I checked both of them, but only Blackwell knew the superintendent. Who was higher than that? They Mayor. I checked them, and surprisingly Sophia knew him well enough to have a strong opinion, but Blackwell didn't.

I pretended to read their faces. "This really makes no sense. What possible reason could you have for covering for her bullying of me? Is she in a gang or something? Are you being threatened?"

I trailed off as I checked both of their relationships towards the local gangs, and Sophia especially utterly and without reservation despised them. Hated them with the sort of passion that came with knowing someone personally.

"No…" I said reverently as my power ratcheted up another step, clinging to the hope I could take this higher up the chain. To escalate this to the point where win or lose carried huge consequences.

I checked their relationships to the PRT and the Protectorate.

"I need to make a call," I said quickly, turning pleading eyes towards Blackwell.

"A call?" said Blackwell in equal parts confusion and outrage. "I rather think we need to focus on your tendency to accuse people so outrageously"

"If I do not make this call I think I may be in danger"

And that sealed it. Blackwell reluctantly turned her desk phone towards me.

"One call," she said. "Then we will get back to sorting this whole mess out"

I gulped, my heart pounding in my chest, spreading the flood of ice that got colder and colder. I turned to Sophia.

"What's the Protectorate's number?" I asked.

Sophia flinched and Blackwell jumped about a foot, radiating alarm and panic and confusion.

I looked at Blackwell who was doing her best impression of a drowned corpse, then to Sophia who was staring me down with frightening ferocity.

Once upon a time I would be horrified beyond belief that the perpetrator of my bullying campaign was a Hero. But now it was the best moment of my life.

"Nah," I said, not knowing if my power dredged it up from my memory or read it off her. "Don't tell me, I remember"

I dialled the number and looked up at Sophia. It was truly surprising she hadn't attacked me yet, but considering her only options here were to be quiet or incriminate herself further by trying to violently silence me maybe it wasn't so surprising. It wasn't like she was insane.

The phone rang twice, I could barely hear it over my own heartbeat. I held my breath for what felt like a life age, watching Blackwell and Sophia caught in the indecision of total panic.

"Brockton Bay Protectorate headquarters," said a cheery woman on the other end of the line. "How my I help you?"

"I-" my voice caught in my throat, turning into a squeak. I took a deep breath and focused on the cold clarity of my power. "I would like to report some disturbing actions of a Ward to Armsmaster"

"Where are you calling from?" the woman asked, all the cheer replaced by professionalism.

"Winslow High," I said. "I know I can't name names, but if SH is SS then Armsmaster really needs to hear this"

Muffled swearing issued through the receiver. Easy listening music played for the length of time it probably took the receptionist to get the message through.

The phone beeped and a deep voice spoke.

"This is Armsmaster," the leader of the Brockton Bay Protectorate spoke, he managed to sound polite, frustrated and furious all at once. "I've been told you have some information on a ward, potentially including their civilian identity"

The civilian identity of a cape, a hero with or without powers, was a closely guarded secret. Only one team in all of America boldly dropped their masks as a part of their vision of heroism.

"Yes," I said. "Is, uh, this line secure?"

"It should be," he responded.

"Sophia Hess has been bullying me, I have evidence going back months and the school is covering it up and I only accidentally found out just now on accident and you should see their faces please come and help me," I blurted out as quickly as I possibly could.

Armsmaster made a hissing sound on the other end of the phone. It really was lucky I was right, or this could have ended really poorly.

"Put Sophia on," he asked mildly, covering up his slip in composure.

I passed the phone to Sophia who, judging by her expression, was contemplating jumping out the window.

"Yeah?" Sophia said in a voice of false bravado, gingerly holding the phone to her ear.

"No, she's a liar. She's had it out for me for ages"

"Lucky guess"

"She picked a fight and went to the principal"

Blackwell took this chance to sink into her chair and put her face in her hands.

"How could she have evidence of something that didn't happen?"

"So ask her yourself"

She passed the phone back to me.

"This is a risky situation," Armsmaster said. "Accusing a ward of bullying is a serious allegation, are you completely sure of this?"

"I would bet my life on it," I said.

"Are you able to provide this proof of yours immediately?" He asked.

"You'd have to drive me home," I said before realising I shouldn't have given away the location to someone who could just go in and sweep this whole thing under the rug. This was the same man who had let Sophia be a hero.

Armsmaster hmm'ed. "In ten minutes there will be a dark blue van outside the front of Winslow, tell the driver you have to donate blood. They will then show you their PRT badge. Instruct them to your house, retrieve the evidence then they will drive you to the PRT building and we can sort this whole mess out, ok?"

"Ok," I said, completely ignoring other more sensible options than getting in a van with a stranger and delivering my only copy of the bullying log to people who were probably just going to make empty promises and pretend like the problem was dealt with once I had left.

But I was in too far to back out now. I had to keep my dad as a trump card.

"Can you put me on to Principal Blackwell? I'll inform her about the situation" Armsmaster asked, trying to sound kind in an obvious ploy to gain my trust.

I passed her the phone, waited for her to write me a note saying I could leave, picked up my bag and walked over to the door.

I cast one last look at the pair of them. Blackwell trying to stonewall Armsmaster with school protocol, Sophia rapidly texting someone.

I almost welcomed them trying to make this harder, to make it drag on, but not even the temptation of higher power could outweigh the thought of dealing with this shit as soon as possible.

I closed the door behind me and took a deep breath. I had maybe half an hour until my power started to wind itself back down again and if I was right about whoever was in charge of all of this they would want to see me as soon as possible. While I was still, to them at least, emotionally vulnerable.

I set off down the corridor, trying to think of a plan. My power wasn't very helpful on that front, seeming to be geared towards dealing with the immediate problem at hand and damn the consequences.

I had a couple of cards to play, namely threatening to expose Shadow Stalker's bullying of me to the media. Exposing that would surely cost a lot of people their jobs when it came out. I didn't know exactly what I'd do if they weren't willing to play ball, but I'd figure it out. Bringing up them dragging a minor out of school without parental consent would help.

I passed a chattering classroom and hastened my step, I had approximately nine minutes until the van arrived and none of them to waste.

I slipped out the front door and strode over to one of the old wooden benches fixed to the brick of the building. I sat down and tore open my bag, rummaging around for one of my notebooks and a pen. I just couldn't let the chance to sketch out some designs, when I didn't know when I would next have access to this level of power, pass by.

The devices I could conceive of at base level weren't very amazing. Even someone like Squealer the Merchants Tinker could match them, and she was as bottom of the barrel as it got.

Following that train of thought I started sketching out the framework of a polyphase engine, making little annotations to the side. Tinkertech designs, I imagined, tended to not be very coherent to people who weren't tinkers and didn't have the schematics bursting into their head as inspiration struck.

Judging from my research, done on a laptop I cobbled together with my newfound understanding of all things electronic and mechanical, I was what was called a Universal Tinker. This meant I could build pretty much anything if I had the materials, unlike most other tinkers who were stuck to one speciality like Squealer and vehicles. It sounded better than it was, I had to get into fights to get my power up to build anything really good and there were other weird restrictions I couldn't figure out. For instance, I could build a countdown timer but not a clock.

Sure, I could build a timer that counted up exactly like a clock and reset at midnight, but I couldn't build an actual clock.

I glanced up from where I was adding all terrain legs to the chassis of what was turning into a cat themed minibus, not my best design, and scanned the road. No sign of the van, and the guy in charge of making sure students didn't just walk out the front gate apparently didn't care that I wasn't in class.

I gave up the cat bus as a bad job and flipped the page, at the very least it might give me an idea for something later on. I tapped the pen agitatedly against the paper for a moment, mind whirling with ideas. All I needed was for one to leap out at me and crystallise into a solid design…

My pen flew across paper as I envisioned an upgraded version of my sonic pistol.

One of my first attempts at tinkering had produced the guts of a pistol that would, in theory, induce nausea and vertigo. The range wasn't very good but it was completely non-lethal, something my tech was good at.

It would be interesting to see if I could either make it or upgrade my old one when my power had receded. Getting the parts was going to be a complete pain, I had no idea where I could get my hands on that sort of graphene or lithium. And then I'd need the tools to make the parts if I wanted something more complex than an earphone speaker wired to a circuit board.

I scribbled out the bare bones design of a truck mounted vibro-pulse emitter cannon my upgraded sonic pistol was developing into. Too big, too vicious.

That had to be ten minutes by now, I thought, designing and tinkering were amazing at eating up time unnoticed. Perhaps this would be a better strategy, give up some time designing so that when the van finally pulled up the driver wouldn't see me scribbling feverishly. They might have even seen Armsmaster or Kid Win, the only tinker in Brockton Bay's Wards, doing something similar and connect the dots. My heart pounded blood like rivers of ice, I needed to be more paranoid.

I stuffed the book and pen into my bag, got up and approached the man at the gate. He looked up from his phone with dispassionate eyes and tilted his head to the side, not sparing the effort to ask a question.

"I have permission from Mrs. Blackwell to leave," I pulled the note out of my pocket and handed it over.

The man sighed as he read it, expression unchanging, and nodded.

"Ok," he said, stepping aside to let me pass. "Have fun"

I walked out through the gate, glancing back to see the guard once again glued to his phone, and headed off along in the direction I thought the van would probably come from. I walked about halfway along the tall fence before leaning against the bars, fingers tapping an agitated pattern on my leg.

It wasn't long before a dark blue van came round the corner of the four way intersection and crawled along the street. The driver must have seen me because the van parked as close to where I was standing as it could. I took a second to ready myself, I could feel the ice in my veins starting to thaw. In another ten or fifteen minutes it would start to go…

Maybe I could get into a shouting match with the PRT driver.

I sprang from where I was leaning against the fence and headed around to the driver's side of the van. At the wheel was a young woman looking at me with kind brown eyes as she wound the window down, no doubt chosen to put me at ease and leave me more pliable to their manipulations.

"I have to give blood," I said as casually as I could. This was where I would need to be extra careful of what I said, I had to be extra careful not to let anything slip that might imply I was a parahuman. This wasn't a heat of the moment thing like with Sophia, the Parahuman Response Team were specifically trained for that sort of thing.

I of course checked her with my power, confirming who she was before she could say anything.

"Ms. Hebert?" she asked, pulling her badge of office out of her pocket and opening it.

Sargent Jennifer James, Brockton Bay PRT.

A thought suddenly occurred to me, could I check a person relationship to themselves? I tuned my power between Jennifer James and Jennifer James and the feedback I got was vague. Blurry, like looking through an old tarnished mirror. I had the feeling I would be able to get more out of it if my power was running high enough.

I nodded, "that's me"

Jennifer smiled winningly, "well, if you'll just hop in the other side there we can go get what you need"

I nodded again and walked around the front of the car and opened the passenger side door. I slid into the seat and buckled my seatbelt. The van smelt of dust and oversweet pine, no doubt coming from the air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror.

The van purred to life and Jennifer pulled out into the street.

"Can you tell me your home address?" she asked.

I gave it to her, hoping to god there wasn't a microphone somewhere in here transmitting everything I said to the crack Evidence Destroying Team.

The words had barely left my mouth when a metallic clang sounded from right behind my ear. I jerked forward, my seatbelt catching. I twisted violently, turning to see a helmet and visor peering through a sliding panel from inside the back of the van.

"I'm sorry if I startled you, Ms. Hebert," said the beard poking out from under the visor in a deep voice. "This isn't the van I normally use"

"Armsmaster," I breathed as the thawing in my blood ceased. "Holy fucking shit"

"Indeed," he replied.

There was an awkward pause.

"How did you want to handle the meeting with Director Piggot?" Armsmaster asked.

"…Quickly?" I replied. This was not going how I thought it would at all.

"I meant," he said, "in regards to contacting your parent or guardian"

Of course. It was foolish of me to not expect them to have situations like this down to a science, that they wouldn't just hustle me into the office. Well, it wasn't like I hadn't prepared for this, to make every sacrifice to gain victory. To throw away parts of myself I would never get back if it just meant I would win.

"Oh, um… I'd prefer if I not tell my dad. He doesn't really know about me being bullied" I said meekly.

I tuned my checker between him and me. Annoyed at me for having dragged him away from work, wondering if I was a liar, thought I was kind of pathetic…

That wouldn't do.

"I never said anything because I could handle it myself," I added. "All I needed was for them to slip up, like today"

"When I spoke to her on the phone, Sophia said you goaded her into a fight. Is this true?"

"Turns out," I said, "that Sophia likes to talk a whole bunch of shit when she's backed up with all her friends. Today was the first time I actually talked back. She slapped me, by the way, right there"

I pointed to my face.

"And that's not even the best bit, you can check the hospital or police reports or whatever for this it only happened like three weeks ago, she shoved me into a locker full of literal shit and locked me in. School can't do anything apparently, so the first chance she gets she starts heaping shit on me again. So you fucking tell me, Armsmaster, did I goad her?"

I shouted that last bit.

Confused as to why I blew up, doesn't believe me, doesn't not believe me

At least he didn't think I was pathetic anymore.

"And you definitely have proof of this?" he asked cautiously.

I nodded.

"Months and months of writing down all the crap they've pulled"

"It's a good start," said Armsmaster, still in that same careful tone. "But it's not actually proof"

How the hell was I supposed to do this if he kept trying to defuse?

"Yeah, me writing all that down for months and continuously getting nothing out of it is proof of nothing, right?" I asked sarcastically.

Thinks I'm an obstinate little shit

"Ms. Hebert," Armsmaster said dully, like he had mentally checked out of the conversation. "It's a good start but it's not proof"

Shit.

"So that's it?" I asked incredulously. "You're going to pull the exact same shit as school and sweep it under the rug because I have no 'proof'?"

"No, Ms. Hebert," said Armsmaster. "At the very least this warrants an investigation"

"Which you will assuredly not fudge, am I right?"

Armsmaster didn't reply. I didn't need powers to tell he wanted to be anywhere but here, dealing with a snotty teenager.

The rest of the drive was entirely uneventful. We arrived at my house, I ran inside and retrieved the logbook, locked the house and got back in the van then sat in moody silence until we got to the PRT building.

When we got out of the van I took a moment to admire Armsmasters midnight blue power armour. I hoped that someday I could produce such a fine piece of tinkertech. No other tinker could build power armour that sleek, Armsmaster wasn't the miniaturisation tinker for nothing.

The inside of the PRT building was pretty average, like a more modern looking police station. Kevlar and chainmail clad PRT officers walked alongside their less armoured co-workers as they went about their duties.

With Armsmaster we breezed through the security protocol, and after a short walk and an absurdly smooth elevator ride we stood in front of a door labelled 'Director E. Piggot'.

"If you could please behave better than in the van," said Armsmaster as he knocked on the door, "it would be much appreciated"

My power had gotten a nice little boost from that shitfit, so I wasn't making any promises. And I was sure I'd need every drop I could wring out of it.

"Enter"

Armsmaster twisted the doorhandle and pushed the door open, revealing the final frontier. My power surged in anticipation.

My final frontier looked disappointingly like an overworked middle aged bureaucrat who had put on some weight over the years and forgotten that bowl cuts went out of style centuries ago.

Hopes I'm wrong.

Thinks Sophia is a liability.

I smiled as she stood and walked around her desk to shake my hand, even the director didn't like Sophia.

But what did that imply? If the people in charge didn't like her, how could she keep getting away with it?

"I'm told you have some disturbing news, Ms. Hebert," said Director Piggot, ushering me into the chair sitting in front of her desk.

I rallied my thoughts.

"Yes, Shadow Stalker has been bullying me"

"In your civilian guises?"

I nodded, "Shadow Stalker, who is Sophia Hess, has been bullying me. For like, nearly two years. How did she keep getting away with it?" I started raising my voice. "Aren't you guy's hero's? Shouldn't you be stopping this from happening?"

Director Piggot looked at me gravely, "Perhaps you should tell us everything from the beginning"

So I did. Everything from her turning my former best friend against me to her picking her campaign back up as soon as it looked like the school would keep covering for her and our encounter in the principal's office.

"So what do you have to say for yourself?" I hissed as I slammed the logbook onto her desk and slid it over to her.

The director's lips were thin as she opened the book and read the first few entries before skimming the rest.

Thinks I'm not lying, pities me, thinks I'm a liability, angry at my rudeness

Huh.

"I think, Ms. Hebert," she said as she placed the book back onto the desk. "That you should control yourself"

"Oh no no no, director," I said as my blood reached something approaching sub zero. "I think you need to control your Wards"

I leaned over and picked my logbook back up, "or else"

My power jumped. I could see it now, so much clearer than before. The second she labelled me as a threat. The leap was almost overwhelming, the clarity of the laser focus of my power, so much higher than it had ever been. I tuned my power between her and every relevant party, searching for the most damaging threat.

"Ms. Hebert," Director Piggot bristled. "Please sit back down. We both agree this is a terrible, unfair situation. I promise I will handle this, regardless of your attitude"

I smiled thinly, my wide lips hiding clenched teeth.

"We both know that if this ever gets out, you're finished. The headline 'Brockton Bay Ward Terrorises Fellow Student; PRT Does Nothing' doesn't paint a very nice picture to the Chief Director or the Youth Guard, does it? The media would tear you apart. You should pay attention to my attitude, because I'm at the end of my fucking tether," I dropped the logbook softly onto her desk. "And unluckily for the both of us you're the only one who would do something to right this injustice, so I'm going to trust you'll do the right thing and carry out a thorough investigation. Don't let me down"

I looked down my nose at Piggot who I knew would see this through to the end even if she loathed me. Piggot glared back and ground out words learned by rote, dismissing me from her office.

I folded my arms as my fingers started twitching. This was about as much power as I would get from here, I really wanted to get home and start tinkering.

So there's that whole mess out of the way early on.

Lung still exists, just not in Brockton Bay, thus no ABB. He's currently overseas trying to rebuild Japan, the landmass not the nation.