“Are you ready to cooperate?” Miss Militia asked through the screen on the reinforced door. I looked up at her, then continued staring at the floor.

  “Are you ready to let me call my lawyer?” I replied. “I know what I’m entitled to, you read me my Miranda-Brutalizer Rights. You know I’m not going to fight you if you let me make a phone call.” I didn’t have plans to fight anyone here. These people were my friends, once upon a time.

  “You’re considered highly dangerous and unstable,” she said flatly. “I would need authorization from the director to—”

  “Go get it,” I cut her off. “Because I do want to talk, but I’m not stupid enough to do it without my lawyer.” Or truthfully, I didn’t think I’d be taken seriously without him.

  “And you won’t talk otherwise?”

  “No.”

  “It may take some time,” Miss Militia sighed. “Please make yourself comfortable.”

  I scoffed as the screen went blank, returning to the smooth, white wall that was made to contain monsters like me. I turned around and headed to the flat slab that passed for a bed and laid on my side. With nothing else to do, I shut my eyes even though I didn’t feel like sleeping. It was a better way to pass the time than pacing and moping.

  Of course I wasn’t allowed to sleep that easily. Instead, my brain decided it was ideal to play the last fight on repeat before my closed eyes. It was hideous, the lights from the fire burned so much brighter in my memory. I could feel Othala’s blood on me, even though it had only touched my boots. My arms wrapped around myself and I curled up as best I could, teeth creaking as I grit them.

  It was a success, I had to think of it that way. For all it had cost, we’d got out with every objective achieved. Three more Werwolf villains were dead, and I was confident my team could handle the rest without me.

  God...I’d never expected I wouldn’t be there to lead them in the final assault. I’d abandoned them, in a way, though in doing so I’d saved them from being here with me. I was the one that deserved this, so it was right that I was stuck here while they did the actual heroism.

  Now I had to figure out what exactly I was going to do to get out of here. Obviously I wasn’t just walking out the front door. I could probably break the shackles they’d wrapped around my wrists, but that’d just lead to be being confoamed. Maybe if they took me out of here I could somehow figure a way to bust out but…

  No, that wasn’t the way to do things. I had to be smarter, more underhanded. I had leverage, in the form of my little army. Of course I wouldn’t order them to break me out, but a bunch of people armed to the teeth and listless without a leader? Well Mr. PRT that sounds like a problem that I can put a stop to.

  What would I offer then? The PRT would probably want our leadership to stand trial, but I had a feeling we could knock that request down some. After all, we’d never gone toe to toe with the PRT, and only once against the cops when they’d joined forces with Werwolf. What if—

  “Planning how to escape justice already?” a cold, familiar voice asked, making me start. “Isn’t that just like you.” It turned my head, eyes widening. “What, didn’t expect to see me here?”

  “I...no, I didn’t expect to see me here.”

  “Looking as ugly as ever right?” I, or she, said, a mad grin stretching her cracked lips. “Worse these days. You do something with my hair?”

  “Cut it off, my hair hasn’t looked like that since…” I grimaced. “It hasn’t looked like that for a long time.”

  “Another thing you’ve taken from me,” she said, twirling a lock of auburn hair around an intact middle finger. “Not much in the grand scheme of things, I think my life is a pretty major one.”

  “Unfortunately, I literally can’t take my life,” I said, rolling my eyes. “If you mean the powers, I know who to blame.”

  “Don’t you dare put this on her,” she growled. “She was the best thing that ever happened to me, and you took her away.”

  “She did that herself,” I snapped. “I haven’t fucking forgotten how she abandoned me.”

  “She pulled out of a stupid decision you made,” she said sharply. “She was a hell of a lot smarter than you, you should have followed her lead and gone home.”

  “So what, so I could die to Leviathan?” I said, sitting up in my bed and glaring at myself. “That’s what would have happened you know, if I’d gone to the shelter. I’m the only reason I survived.” I pursed my lips. That sounded...crazy. “You know what I mean.”

  “I’d rather be dead than be you,” she said venomously. “Chew on that, bitch.”

  I found myself staring at the blank wall of my cell. It was flat matte, no reflection at all. The lights in my cell had dimmed slightly and I frowned. How long had it been? Surely I hadn’t fallen asleep, I certainly hadn’t dreamed that had I? It made me sick. The conversation, knowing it wasn’t real, and somehow that was little comfort.

  The lights in my cell brightened and made me flinch. There was a chime from the door, and I rolled over and sat up as a robotic voice ordered me to step back. I stayed where I was on the bed, cocking my head and forcing a neutral expression on my face. Had to just...settle down, ignore my pounding heart and desire to vomit. It was time for business.

  “Amaranth,” Miss Militia said, appearing on the screen of the door. “Your call has been allowed, you may come under escort. As your hands are considered deadly weapons, the number you wish to call will be dialed for you.”

  “Oh, so I’ll have listening ears?” I said, not particularly caring. I just needed to tell my lawyer to get his ass down here.

  “No, you’ll be allowed privacy as required by the law,” she said, sounding mildly offended. “Get up and approach the door slowly. Keep your hands down and make no sudden movements.”

  “I told you before, I’m not going to fight you,” I said, rising from my cot and rolling my eyes. I slowly walked forward and stopped a few paces from the door.

  “You look tired,” Miss Militia said gently. “If you need to rest, we can arrange this after you’ve had a chance to sleep.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said with a shrug. “Won’t be sleeping right now anyway.” I had far too much on my mind. Besides, apparently I wouldn’t let me sleep.

  “Very well,” she said. “If we need to detain you here long term, I will see what we can do about furnishings.”

  “I’m a Birdcage bound criminal, you don’t need to handle me with kid gloves,” I said, a little sharper than I meant.

  “If that’s what you’d prefer.” The screen winked out and I sighed. Fucked up again, like always. The door hissed suddenly and gave me a start, then slid smoothly open revealing Miss Militia on the other side. “Come on, stay close.”

  I nodded and stepped through the door, falling in behind her. A trio of PRT officers flanked us, heavily armed and armoured. They really thought I was going to try and pull something then. Apparently they had me confused with one Taylor Hebert. I had no intention of causing any trouble, at least not for these guys.

  I got a lot of looks as I was led through the concrete corridors of the PRT building, most of surprise. It seemed no one really expected me to be here, even though I’d surrendered without a fight. One or two officers gave me hostile sneers, but they were easy enough to ignore.

  I grimaced at a twinge in my shoulders and rolled them forward and back. My shackles covered my hands entirely and climbed partway up my forearms, pressing them firmly together. The bellies of my arms rested against each other, but the top end of the shackles were hollow. There was nothing inside I could grasp and use as leverage. A perfect solution for someone like me, except they weighed ten pounds and sucked to wear.

  There was part of me that was sorely tempted to just try and pop them open and make a run for it. I could probably free myself at least by flexing my projection a little. But I forced myself to keep following Miss Militia, silent and compliant. Cooperation with the PRT was something I’d wanted for a long time, and while this wasn’t exactly what I meant it was important to send them the right message. The Terriers weren’t crazed gangsters, we were just doing what the PRT wouldn’t.

  “The place looks better,” I commented as we got into an elevator. “Repairs are all finally done?”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  “Indeed,” Miss Militia said.

  “New defense systems too,” I said, eyeing a turret installed in the elevator. “Learned from experience with Skitter?”

  “Given the violent nature and instability of parahuman-led gangs in Brockton Bay, upgrading seemed like the right idea,” she said, tone neutral but I could read between the lines.

  “Again, never planned to attack you,” I said with a sigh. “Unlike the previous warlord, I was actually focused on helping people instead of control.”

  “Helping people by burning down their homes,” an officer behind me muttered.

  “Quiet,” Miss Militia said sharply.

  “I’ve burned down some houses,” I admitted. “But considering they belonged to Nazis, I’m not shedding any tears over them. What about you, Officer Kraut?”

  “You—”

  “Baldwin, shut up,” Miss Militia barked. “Amaranth, I recommend exercising your right to remain silent.”

  I did, snapping my mouth shut and glowering at the officer who’d decided literal Nazis were a nice part of the city’s scenery. No wonder they’d never cooperated with me, if people like that were part of the rank and file. Well no matter, just had to play nice so I didn’t catch any more charges before my lawyer showed up.

  Miss Militia led me into a small, windowless room containing a table, chair, phonebook, and phone. Besides a light embedded in the ceiling, there was literally nothing else there. I sat in front of the phone, shackled hands in my lap, and dictated the number to Miss Militia for her to dial. A moment later, the phone was ringing and on speaker, and I was left alone.

  “Samuel Bedford,” my lawyer answered a few rings later. “May I ask who’s calling.”

  “Three guesses,” I said dryly. “And if you’ve seen the morning news, the first two don’t count.”

  “Good morning to you too Amaranth,” Samuel said, and I could practically hear his eyes rolling. “I suppose this is a ‘drop everything’ situation?”

  “I’d rather you be at the PRT building sooner than later,” I replied. “The accommodations aren’t exactly five-star.”

  “I’ll cancel my appointments,” he sighed. “How many cases?”

  “It’s just me,” I said. “You’ll probably want to bring...well, whatever you need to handle my shit.”

  “Give me an hour,” he said. “I’ve got to make a few calls.”

  “Thanks,” I said, feeling just a little relieved. “I’m okay, by the way. They haven’t beat me up or anything, not that they could. And no I’m not causing trouble either, I’m a model citizen.”

  “We’ll put that to a vote,” Samuel said dryly. “Take care Amaranth.”

  “You too.”

  He hung up and I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. At least everyone would know I was okay now. I had no doubt one of those calls he was making was to Joy, we’d agreed he would get in touch if I was ever captured. Things were bad, but I didn’t want to end it and try again. After all, the arrest warrant was a given at this point. If I went back, I’d just have to relive the fight I’d left behind. Maybe I could get a better result, but the insanity of battle meant there would always be casualties I couldn’t prevent.

  “Get up,” Miss Militia said as the door opened. “If your conversation is done, you need to return to containment.”

  “Yeah yeah,” I sighed, rising and rolling my shoulders. “Lead on warden.”

  I trailed behind her back to my cell, settling in for a long wait.

  “Sorry I’m late, traffic’s awful today,” Samuel said as he entered the interview room. He sat next to me at the table, glancing at my wrists. They were shackled to the top, preventing me from even moving my fingers. “This seems unnecessary, Amaranth has been totally cooperative.”

  “She’s a dangerous criminal,” Miss Militia said coldly. “We will take all precautions we can to ensure our safety, and yours Mr. Bedford.”

  “Allegedly, Miss Militia,” he said sharply.

  “By her own admission,” she countered. “Frankly, I’m not even sure why she asked for you, Amaranth is smart enough to know she’s guilty.”

  “Director this sounds awfully prejudicial,” Samuel said, looking over at Director Higgins. “Are you sure Amaranth is being treated appropriately.”

  “I am,” Higgins said flatly. “For what it’s worth, I’m not sure what you’ll accomplish here either. We already have an emergency appeal for trial taken up for ruling this evening. Unless you’re here for a plea bargain, you won’t do very much.”

  “Well we should start with a mutual problem,” I said, keeping my tone level. “Because currently, there are a lot of armed people out there who are very unhappy that I’m in here.”

  “Amaranth, plead the fifth before you dig yourself deeper, please,” Samuel said, sounding tired.

  “She does have a point,” Miss Militia said. “Though I can’t say I expected you to stoop to threats, Amaranth.”

  “Hey, we avoided confrontation with you until now,” I said, shrugging as best I could in my shackles. “But now my vote isn’t there to say ‘hey they’re good guys’. That’s a fact, not a threat. If I wanted to make threats, I’d do it.”

  “Why not use your phone call to make them stand down?” she asked.

  “Job’s not done,” I replied. “There are still Nazis in Brockton Bay, and we all know you won’t do anything about it.”

  “Amaranth,” Samuel said sharply and I shut my mouth. “Of course, there’s no guarantee they would listen to my client. After all, they’ve shown they can operate without her. How about we focus on the matter at hand, hm? What are you charging her with?”

  “Do you want the full list?” Higgins asked sarcastically. He slid a thick manila envelope over. “I’ll give you the line items that are most egregious. A hundred and two counts of first-degree murder with and without parahuman abilities, two-hundred of conspiracy to commit murder, and terrorism using a parahuman ability. This isn’t getting into the litany of charges in leading her gang, which of course are nearly as serious. You may browse the rest as you please.”

  We sat silently for a moment as it sunk it. Yeah, no wonder I was facing the Birdcage. No one had said it yet, but I could read the writing on the wall. I wasn’t sure why they weren’t charging me with all the deaths that had happened over the last few weeks, but maybe this was just stuff they could pin to me. Samuel flipped through the envelope for a few minutes before shutting it and sighing.

  “That’s quite the array of charges,” Samuel said at last. “But I think you’re overestimating what my client is capable of. She’s a seventeen year old orphan, the jury isn’t going to buy into all this.”

  “Quite the contrary,” Higgins said calmly. “Given the severe circumstances and potential for intimidation and violence against jurors, Amaranth will be sitting before a tribunal of judges. They will determine the facts of the case and its outcome.”

  “You’re denying a child her constitutional rights,” Samuel said sharply.

  “We’re ensuring the safety of the public,” the director countered. “Amaranth is responsible for the circumstances that this trial must be conducted under. The trial will be fair and swift, as is her right.”

  “And I can only guess what you’ll be pushing for.”

  “We’re not at liberty to discuss prosecution strategy,” Higgins said, all business. “I would suggest, Mr. Bedford, you consider a plea to spare Amaranth the stress that may come with a trial.” Samuel grimaced and glanced at me.

  “May I have a moment to discuss all this with my client privately?” he asked.

  “Of course,” Higgins said, rising from his seat. “Take all the time you need.” He and Miss Militia left the room, and I sighed, staring at the envelope cataloging my sins.

  “Well this is a bit of a pickle,” Samuel said dryly. “Amaranth I know I said I’d fight for you but…” He shook his head slowly.

  “Not exactly a great hill to die on,” I said with a shrug. “I get it.”

  “Oh I don’t mind a losing battle,” he said with a pained smirk. “But I agree with the director a little. This wouldn’t be a good time, odds are you’d come out worse for wear, not to mention what it might be like for people you care about.”

  “Nobody left who does that much,” I said glumly.

  “And your team?”

  “They won’t even watch it,” I replied. “They have better things to do than worry about one soldier. A lot of their friends died, I’m far from the first thing in peoples’ minds.”

  “I’ll forgive you being ignorant since you’ve been locked up,” Samuel said, opening his binder and showing me a printed out web page. “There are already people practically begging the Terriers to attack the PRT and spring you, wondering openly about retaliation. You’ve become a lot more than some gangster or killer to a lot of people, and that probably includes your team.” He smirked and turned the page, tapping the headline printed there. “That said, how about some good news?”

  For the first time since landing in prison, I smiled.

  “Thanks Samuel,” I said, shutting my eyes and leaning back as far as I could in my chair. “It’s good to know my team can do it without me.”

  “The defendant Amaranth has been found guilty on all charges,” the judge chairing the tribunal said, reading from a piece of paper in front of him. “While the state recognizes Amaranth’s troubling circumstances in Brockton Bay, as well as her youth, the prosecution demonstrated a history of recidivism during her time as a Ward. Given that, and the extreme and deadly nature of her actions, we have made the difficult decision to sentence her to the Baumann Parahuman Containment Center.” He whacked his gavel on the bench, and that was that.

  “Well, thanks for trying Samuel,” I said as a quartet of heavily armed and armored PRT officers came over. “I guess I can’t say see you later so...goodbye. Give everyone my best would you?”

  “I’m sorry Lia I...sorry,” Samuel said quietly, patting my shoulder. “When you get down there, try and learn a little diplomacy would you? Get close with someone in power, make yourself indispensable.”

  “Prison tricks from experience?” I asked dryly as the officers unshackled me from the desk and grasped my arms, pulling me to my feet. They muscled Samuel away from me.

  “Worked with a lot of people on the other side,” he said with a smile. “Goodbye Amaranth, and good luck.”

  With that, I was bundled away through the back halls of the courthouse to a waiting, armoured transport. It was hard to feel even the least bit surprised, but I’d consigned myself to this a long time ago. I just hoped my team would cut their losses and focus on the fight. I’d only been in custody for two days before this trial, and it had only lasted eight hours.

  Two days of sitting and ruminating, praying that Nadir was able to handle the mess I’d left behind, hoping she wouldn’t hate me too much. At least she had Fidel to help her along, plus our friends who’d been with us from the start. Hopefully they were doing okay...

  Too bad I’d been cut off from any news. They hadn’t let me talk to Samuel before the trial date, and he hadn’t had time to let me know what was going on outside. At least he’d been able to pass along the word of Krieg’s death. With him gone, I was absolutely confident in Nadir’s ability to lead everyone in finishing the Nazis off.

  The truck rumbled to life and began driving. Before long, the chassis began to vibrate from high speed and I knew we were on the freeway. I settled back in the chair I was chained to, trying to move my bonds so they weren’t dragging on my joints.

  “Stop struggling,” a PRT officer who’d been assigned as one of my escorts in here said sharply. “I’ll foam you.”

  “Just trying to get comfortable,” I said, keeping my voice demure. “Chains are heavy, you know?”

  “Last warning.” He raised his foam gun and I sighed, settling down in a marginally more comfortable position.

  Did Taylor get this much shit on the way? Probably, considering she’d actually gone after the PRT directly. But she wasn’t around to talk about it if she had. Huh, I still owed Cauldron that favour. Surely they weren’t going to spring me from the truck just to collect on that, were they?

  A brief mote of hope, hope, ignited in my chest. I was resigned to the Birdcage, I even deserved it, but there was part of me that was screaming at the idea of being locked up until Scion blew the planet up. It was certainly possible they could yank me before I got there, they could open portals anywhere they wanted. But would they?

  I settled down and waited to find out.