~~~Railgun~~~​

~~~Railgun~~~​

~~~Railgun~~~​

~~~Railgun~~~​

~~~Railgun~~~​

~~~Railgun~~~​

I stared at the results of my latest attempt to make a vambrace. Okay, I decided, it wasn't too bad, just the tiniest bit off. If I added a bit more metal to it, and stretched it out just the tiniest bit, it should line up with the point on my elbow that was the perfect spot.As it turned out, making armor was a lot harder than I had thought. When I said harder, I meant 'I hated doing this more and more every day' harder. But it was ever so slowly becoming easier, mostly because I had decided upon a style of armor from the medieval period.Based upon Milanese armor circa fourteen hundred and fifty AD, I'd decided upon it as the best possible solution to what I wanted to accomplish. What I wanted was armor that would protect all of my exposed skin, not just my torso, head, and legs. That meant, I needed armor that would fit together like a puzzle, and still be able to move freely when I did.Which armorers all the way back in the tenth century had figured out. The suit I had chosen to emulate was a lot more advanced that initial armors. It was also pretty damn complicated, with a huge number of pieces which all had to fit together perfectly.What I had done was download a set of blueprints off of the internet, then I had used the accompanying directions in the text file to cut down the sizes based upon my measurements. Nominally intended for a LARP group, I wasn't sure that the damn thing hadn't been modified at some point by a Parahuman Thinker, as it seemed that the directions were almost too good.Take the vambrace I had just been working upon. Designed to protect the lower arm, it was essentially a metal tube that enclosed that part of a person's body, keeping it safe from slashing and stabbing attacks. It also had to be perfectly sized to keep it from chafing or being immobile when it was worn, not that I had the first issue, as my power kept it off my skin.But the immobile part sucked ass as I had found out when I attached it to the revebrace that I had already made. That part of the armor protected the upper arm and attached to the pauldrons, which covered the shoulders. Attached, I hadn't been able to bend my arm at all. Which annoyed me to no end.I'd already remade both of the latter items half a dozen times before I finally got them right. The pauldrons were one of the pieces of armor where fit was the most important. Even being off by the slightest amount, made wearing it untenable, especially as a base for all of the other arm pieces.My completed pauldrons and rerebraces were sitting on a steel stand that I had put together a week ago, once I actually had a piece of armor to put on it. Hopefully, they would soon be joined by the vambraces, once I worked out the remaining bugs.Then I was set to work on my gauntlets and helm. The gauntlets might just be the most complex item I would make, as they needed to be able to flex like real fingers. There were well over a dozen pieces that needed to be made and fitted for each one, something which was going to be a pain.However, that wasn't any worse than the helm. I'd figured out that I made a mistake when I'd made my earlier mask. Not just because there was no way to attach it to my helmet, at least not without a drastic reworking of the metal, but also because of the eye slits.The idea of something getting through those small holes, something which you simply couldn't discount when fighting other Parahumans, scared me. Plus, the vision through them sucked.While I could see using my Othersight whether my normal vision was blocked or not, it wasn't something that I wanted to solely depend upon in combat. No, I needed a better idea than that.Which brought me to my latest experiment. I had read up on how lead glass was made and wondered if I could do the same thing with iron. In front of me was about a pound of clear broken glass as well as a large pile of metal shavings.I used my power on the pile of glass, slowly ratcheting up the level until I felt waves of heat hitting my face. Absently, I flexed my power, pushing the heat away from me and directing it back into the glass that was starting to melt.I had gotten a lot better at redirecting heat since my first attempt a couple of weeks back. Now I could use it to cool myself, as well as direct it to wherever I wanted. Which came in handy when I was working out now, as I was able to cool my body without even the need to sweat.I did the same thing to the pile of metal shavings, heating them until the metal started to run like water. Now for the mixing part.Deciding that the glass in front of me was molten enough, I slowly add the molten metal to it, using my power lift the metal into the glass, then to stir them together until the resulting material was completely homogeneous. Then I tested the resulting mixture to see if it had magnetic characteristics.The molten material stirred under the lash of my power, but not enough. Or so I thought. To tell the truth, I was completely feeling my way on this. I added a bit more molten metal, then did it again, until the final mixture seemed sufficiently magnetic.Then I allowed the resulting material to cool.While I was waiting, I worked desultorily on the helm, shaping a few pieces of metal into a round shape, minus the front part where my face would be. I adjusted the shape further based upon something I had seen on the internet as I didn't want the helm to look as medieval as some of the rest of the armor.Turning back to the glass, I reached out with my power and lifted it up. Deciding it was cool enough to work now, I tried to mold it into a new shape. There was a sudden crack and I instinctively shielded myself with my power.There was a sphere of broken glass about three feet across hanging in mid-air where the piece of glass had been. I silently whistled. That would have been incredibly dangerous if I hadn't managed to grab it before it scattered.Clearly, I was off on my mixture. Or maybe I had to keep the glass molten while working it with my power until it toughened enough to attach to my helm. It was something I was going to have to work on over the next few weeks.Shaking my head, I went back to square one. Maybe I'd spend some time making the room more secure while I figured out another approach."What's wrong, Taylor? Emma got your tongue? I heard about the two of you, now I can see that it's true."I tried to not allow Sarah Mitchell's words to get to me, but I was failing. Sarah Mitchells was a a popular and pretty junior who had never really followed along with my trio of tormentors. Instead, she'd stayed aloof, avoiding becoming involved. Not that she hadn't laughed when Emma had dumped most of a Red Slurpee all over me, as well as other times, but she personally was never involved in bullying me. Out of the blue, she had started in on me about two weeks before. I didn't know why, and I didn't care. It was annoying, but after Emma, not something I couldn't handle.I figured I would just keep my head down and she would probably get tired of it before I did.Sarah's cruelly sly tone sounded again, "You know, Taylor, if you want to go find a place to cry, we can probably find another locker for you do it in."What the hell had that bitch just said? I looked directly at her and it was all I could do not to attack her. I think she saw something in my eyes, because there was just the slightest apprehension in her eyes as she looked back at me."Ms Mitchell, exactly what do you think you're doing?"We both turned at the sound of the voice behind us. Stunned, I stared at Mr Gladly, who was standing there with his hands on his hips, glaring at my tormentor. "I believe that I asked you a question.""Mr Gladly, I was just teasing Taylor.""It didn't sound like teasing to me. It sounded a lot like bullying.""No sir, it was just a little friendly banter between friends."Mr Gladly didn't look convinced. In a determined voice, he stated, "I don't care. If I hear anything else even slightly along those lines from you again, we can take this before Principal Blackwell and see what she thinks about what I just witnessed. Am I clear?"Sarah nodded sulkily. "Yes sir. Crystal clear.""Good." Mr Gladly gave me one final look, then with a nod, he walked off.What the hell had just happened?Okay, this was not going to work. I stared at the mess that was supposed to be the equivalent of a chain undershirt but was completely worthless. How the hell was I supposed to make something like this?I'd tried so far to make a shirt out of metal links, but it wasn't working well. The links themselves, tiny things that they were, weren't that hard to make, nor to combine. But somehow, when I tried to turn them into a shirt, it all went wrong.Maybe I was approaching this entire thing from the wrong direction. Maybe if I made material first, I could then cut it out and make a shirt from it. Heck if what I made was nice enough I might even be able to wear it out.I felt a blush heat my face as I contemplated some of the metal outfits I had previously seen when doing research on the web. Both the dress and the halter top weren't even close to anything I would ever consider wearing, as you couldn't wear a bra with either and they clung far too intimately for modesty's sake.But if I could make material, then shirts, I could use whatever pattern I wanted. So first to make material.I started out by making a few thousand pieces of metal that would become superfine chain mail. Or chain cloth, rather. Then I used my power to start weaving them together. Almost immediately I learned the benefits of this type of fine control on my power.It was as if I had extra senses available as I wove hundreds upon hundreds of tiny electromagnetic fields together. It actually felt like I could do a lot more pieces than just the ones in front of me. Surprisingly soon, I was done.I fingered the twelve by twelve inch swath of gray metal cloth that I had made. Could it really be that easy, I wondered? Cautiously, I picked up the scissors and tried to cut the material. Not surprisingly, it didn't have any effect. I had already felt the material beginning to toughen up, so I had figured it wouldn't cut with just scissors.Next, I tried cutting the material using my power. That went a lot better. Joining it back together was a bit harder, but I managed. So it could be made into clothing.I took a deep breath. Now to try the final experiment.I had been looking for a way to color my armor and had stumbled across a type of paint that had a metallic base, specifically ferric iron, that gave it its distinctive glittering finish. I'd bought one can to try it out before buying more.In front of me I had the swatch of cloth, as well as piece of metal that I had worked my power upon. I wanted to see how it would look on my armor as well, although clearly I didn't want glittering gold for that. Still, it would be a good first test.Shaking the can vigorously, I began spraying it in slow, careful strokes across my items. I ended up putting three different coats over the piece of metal. It ended up looking great. However, the metal cloth, once I lifted it up, looked anything but right.The paint had ended up not just covering the metal, but the spaces in between, so when I moved it, it cracked and broke. I had half expected it to happen and had an idea, but first I wanted to see if I could even get the paint to stick to the metal once I began using my power upon it.I took up the piece of metal, which was almost like a larger version of one of my metal rounds, about ten inches across. Then I tossed it into the air, hanging it there with my power. Then I began using my power to do tiny, micro-adjustments in the metal and its surface. I focused on trying to blend the two of them together.It was amazing how much my earlier work with the micro links helped in doing this. I had to use my power on such a small scale, but at the same time, putting a lot of power into it, that I wasn't sure I would have been able to do this immediately without that practice. I could feel the iron in the coating and the iron in the flat piece slowly melding together until they became one piece.I focused more power on the metal piece and tried to flex it. Okay, that was damn hard. Which meant it was ready. Lowering it into my hands, I carefully examined what I had created.The flat metal round was a beautiful, glittering gold in color, light reflecting off of it in waves. It really was stunning to look at. But I needed it to be more. So I set the metal on a makeshift table I'd built, picked up a solid pieces of I-beam steel with my power, and began smashing into it as hard as I could.Almost immediately, I stuck two fingers into my ears, because the noise was nothing less than insane. I kept it up for about five minutes, then finally stopped, ears ringing despite my fingers. I leaned over to carefully examine the metal round.There was a bunch of rust, metal fragments, and crap all over it, but with a gust of magnetism, it flew off. That left the surface of the metal round exposed. As I looked at it, I managed to activate my Othersight, and was able to take a very close look at it.The surface of the round was still just as smooth and glittering as it had been before. Not a single chip had been knocked out of the top. It was every bit as perfect as it had been before. A grin of delight curved my lips as I felt like I literally couldn't wait to try some of my chosen color on my actual armor. Now I just needed to solve the situation with the chain cloth.Using my power, I managed to tear off all of the old paint from the piece I had made. I decided to try it again, but this time within my magnetic field. What I was going to try to do was make sure that every single link was covered with zero over spray in between. I wasn't sure if it would work, but it couldn't be worse than the earlier trial.Shaking the can again, I extended my magnetic fields, then began spraying. I could literally feel the tiny particles of iron in the paint, and did my best to use my power to flow them into a light coating over the entire surface of the micro-links. Then I continued to hold it in mid-air while I waited for it to dry.I was just about to put on another coat when I realized that it didn't really need it. By using my power, I'd ensured such an even coating that it didn't really require a second one. Now, hanging in front of me was a beautiful, glittering piece of metallic gold cloth.Huh. I slowly pushed my power into the cloth, bind the paint to the metal, working the tiny magnetic fields over and into the material again and again. As I felt sweat start to break out over my skin, I shunted additional power to radiating heat away from me, all the while I continued working on the metal cloth.After a few minutes, I decided that was enough. Looking it over, I didn't need my Othersight to see that the metal cloth was pretty much perfect. The glittering color of gold, it hung there in the air so bright and beautiful that it took my breath away.Now for the real test, I thought. Bringing it over the metal table, I used the same I-beam to smash the cloth as I'd used on the round. For a moment, I was a bit concerned as I was probably hitting the material I'd made harder than even a bullet would have, but if it was going to rip or tear, now was the time to find out.In the end, though, it looked just as good as the metal round did, once I cleared off the detritus. Okay, I was in business. Now I just had to make a few yards and color it either the gold I'd already bought, or the same color as my armor, an ebony black.Don't ask me why I'd decided on black, but the color just appealed to me, and not just because it would make me at least a little stealthy. I could actually picture it in my mind's eye. A flying, battling knight wearing gleaming black armor. It almost made me shiver at the thought of how it would look once done.Of course I wouldn't be able to feel the air upon my face, but that wasn't such a big deal as I would-My brain stuttered to a complete halt. Slowly the details of a plan that would allow me to fly whenever I wanted to percolated down from the innermost depths of my brain.Okay, so what if I made not just the inner body suit for going under my armor, but a few sets of clothes, tops and pants and such? I was fairly sure that I could easily lift my body using a shirt and pants with my magnetism. Wearing clothes like these, I would be able to fly.I also had to admit that flight wasn't my only criteria here. For a very long time, I had been bullied by Emma and company, who had done their very best to utterly destroy any vestige of my femininity, likely in an effort to completely break me. I had managed to hold onto my long, curly brunette hair through sheer stubbornness, but sometimes it had been a close thing.But ultimately, I was a girl, dammit, and had a desire to look pretty. I knew that I wasn't all that much, tall and skinny, and plain, but maybe if I wore something beautiful, it would rub off on me. Then again, maybe it wouldn't. But the New Taylor I was trying to be wouldn't be afraid of at least trying.So then and there I decided that I would try to find a seamstress to make me some clothing of metal cloth once I had made enough to matter. I'd also get them to make me an undersuit for wearing beneath my armor to make sure to cover all gaps, not that there would be many with the full plate mail I'd chosen to emulate.As I stood there contemplating all of this, a slow smile stole over my mouth, even though I knew it would mean even more work than I already had planned.I quickly climbed down into the interior of the derelict ship which I had made my 'official' hide out. I had cordoned off a room just off the main hold that held my workshop. I had made it as secure as humanly possible using my power. I had reinforced the metal of the walls, roof, and floor, and the metal was now very tough, although not as tough as it could be, as the exercise of using my power on so much material had kicked my ass and I'd had to cut corners.Still against most threats, it was virtually impregnable. It was also a great place to keep my armor and other gear while I was working on it, as well as anything else related to my new future as a cape. Even better, the nearby main hold was great for working on my power as it was as private a place as I was likely to find.I had now been running, doing calisthenics, and free climbing with my power for just over six weeks and I could feel the difference in my wind and general level of fitness. No more noodle arms and legs after a work out these days. Instead, I felt tired, but good, and my general energy level had been steadily rising. My slight paunch had flattened out, and when I flexed my arm, there was a visible bicep there. Not large, but very firm.My triceps had the same firmness, no longer jiggling when I moved my arm. My legs were still far too thin, but they, too, were getting stronger the more I exercised. Even better, my mood also seemed to rise with my increasing level of fitness, which was a good thing because of the short bout of bullying I'd dealt with recently.After Mr Gladly had stopped her, Sarah Mitchell hadn't bothered me too much since, something for which I was grateful. I didn't know why she had started doing it, nor did I know why one of my least favorite teachers had stopped it.I hadn't been the only one surprised that day. I had seen the faces of my classmates and Mr Gladly's intervention had been the last thing any of them expected. It had virtually disarmed Sarah, limiting her to gossiping with her friends and spreading rumors about me, but none of them to my face or anywhere a teacher could overhear. And it had made me think. Why had the teachers turned a blind eye to Emma, Sophia, and Madison's bullying, but not to Sarah's? What was so different about the two situations?I had come up with a few explanations. The most reasonable being that, after the settlement with my dad, the last thing the school administration wanted was for it to happen again. So they had informed the teachers to be on the look out for it. Which made sense in a self-centered kind of way as it was driven more by self-interest than a desire to do the right thing. But somehow, it rang hollow. I wasn't sure why, just that it did. I suspected I was going to have to ask Mr Gladly directly if I wanted a better explanation.I shook off the dark thoughts and focused on something positive. My future status as a hero for example. I had made significant progress on the costume that I would be wearing when I made my debut. As I climbed down into what was swiftly becoming my home away from home, I looked forward to working on my costume more today after I worked on my ability.Setting my bag on the floor, I walked over the stands that held my armor, each piece spread out. So far, the completed pieces consisted of the face mask and the matching back half that together made a helmet, a gorget, a breastplate and corresponding backplate, pauldrons, vambraces, rerebraces, and a tasset.It had been surprisingly difficult making the armor. But, then again, I should have known it would be. As it turned out, I knew nothing about the actual mechanics of how a suit of armor was made and fit together. Even with the plans I'd downloaded, along with directions for alterations as needed, hadn't answered all of my questions.Fortunately, I was a quick learner. I had, for example, rapidly figured out how badly I'd messed up making my face mask. While it would float on what was essentially a cushion of electromagnetic force above my skin, it still needed to be fastened to the other pieces of my armor to make it more secure. I had not allowed for that. In the end, it had actually been easier to make another face mask the right way, than to adjust the one I'd already made. The metal, once I had shaped it with my power, wastough.Another mistake I'd made originally was to not allow for any kind of eye protection, such as lenses, to keep my eyes safe in a fight. Later, I had considered ordinary glass or possibly plastic lenses, but neither had seemed strong enough.In the end, the ironglass I'd gone with had worked out well, even if I had to repeat the original experiment several times to get the mixture right so that it was clear enough to see through. And so it wouldn't explode when I was manipulating it with my power. That wasn't something I would forget anytime soon, the glass erupting out from its original shape. Fortunately, the last batch had a high enough iron content to be stable and allow me to manipulate it with my power.After I'd finally come up with a formula for my visor, I had to change the design of the helm twice because I had not liked the lack of visibility. I had ultimately decided on a different look entirely after testing the new material and finding out just how durable the addition of the iron made it.After getting rid of any features that gave away my sex, I made the front of the mask a single visor of ironglass that was vertically flat and horizontally curved, running from ear to ear. At its widest, along the bridge of my nose, it was four inches tall, while tapering up to about one inch by the time it reached my ears. It allowed a fantastic amount of visibility versus just having lenses for my eyes and blended seamlessly into the surface of the mask, which was now much flatter and more starkly modern looking. Unfortunately, as easily as I could see out, someone else could see in.After further experimentation, I finally discovered a solution. With the addition of an ultrathin coating to the interior of the ironglass, I eventually managed to make the glass mirrored so I could look out, but no one could see me. Even better, the ironglass was only the slightest bit less strong than the armor around it, so I wouldn't have to worry about anything getting through and into my eyes. I had also solved the connection problem for the two pieces of the helm.The connections for the helm and some of the new pieces I'd made now had a very important thing going for them. They attached together with metal pins, whose heads fit into keyhole slots, fastening them together securely. Just as important, they could be removed without using my power, a solution to a just-in-case scenario where I was too weak to use my powers to remove my armor (or unconscious, which I did not like to think about). I wasn't one hundred percent sure if I would have the physical strength to remove them in that scenario, but I was getting stronger every day. If it turned out I didn't, I could probably get someone to help me take it off.Regardless, I was making some seriously cool armor, one piece at a time. The breastplate was the last piece that needed to be finished. It was exactly as it sounded, a solid plate of treated steel ranging from a quarter inch to a half inch thick that would be ridiculously tough, as was the corresponding back plate, which should provide my torso with protection from most threats.Being based almost completely on a set of Milanese plate mail, there was nothing to give away my sex, something which I was happy about. I had actually added a thicker line in the center of the breastplate so as to aid shedding force from projectiles or explosives to either side, making it even more asexual. All that remained to complete it was to extend the bottom of the breastplate, to cover any gaps, then infuse it with my power.I looked at the stand with the completed pieces. First, there was the gorget, a rounded piece of steel that transitioned from the helmet to the breastplate to the pauldrons. It protected the neck and kept someone from cutting or stabbing your throat. The one I'd made actually worked very well, and allowed a range of motion that I hadn't believed at first. However, as I saw just how perfectly fitted my armor was, I began to understand why I was able to move as well as I did in it.When I had originally read up on plate mail, I wasn't sure I believed that a knight could actually not just fight in a complete suit, but they could do most things short of a somersault while wearing it. As it turned out, most of the stories of knights being almost like turtles when they fell over were based upon specialized tournament armor that was a lot heavier and less flexible than regular plate.No, all of my armor worked well together to give me a complete range of motion. I'd tested it myself on a couple of occasions and it hadn't been that hard to move, although that had been without the breast plate and back plate on. With those, the armor would be heavier, but still not impossible. I wouldn't be turning cartwheels anytime soon, but I could fight if I had to.Now that I had completed so much of the armor, I could focus on painting it. I had finished all of my experiments with paint and had picked my color from the color palette from the paint manufacturer. Ebony Black was what it was called and it was absolutely perfect for the look I was going for.So far I had only painted and cured the two pieces of the helmet, which I looked over before putting them on. The resulting helmet literally gleamed in the light coming in from outside. I could even see clearly through the helm's visor, whether with my glasses, or using my Othersight.With my helmet now on, I started working on the different applications of my ability. I was pleased to see that I was up to five shots a minute when firing metal discs, using my 'railgun' ability before fatigue set in. I had started out only able to do three and had already improved substantially. Eventually, I wanted to be able to work up to at least ten shots per minute or even more. As the last splash started to subside, I moved on to electrostatic wall climbing once I'd rested a bit.I was getting a lot better at this too through my practice, growing a just little stronger every day. At the end of my session, I had a smile on my face despite the sweat dripping off me, something which even bleeding off heat hadn't prevented when I was working this hard. Everything was improving. I was now able to lift three tons of metal and simultaneously manipulate several hundred individual smaller pieces, moving them in extremely intricate patterns as my control continued to improve. My electrical blasts were now powerful enough to melt steel, blasting out like bolts of lightning. But I still couldn't fly no matter how I tried.Shaking my head, I finally gave up. I hadn't made any significant progress recently in using my power to fly and it irked me. At best, I had reduced my weight by just over half, and that was after taking iron supplements. While I wasn't giving up just yet, I was starting to doubt that I would ever succeed in actually flying just using my power. At best, I might end up being able to hover or slow a fall.It wasn't as if I needed to fly like that, as I would be able to lift the entire suit with myself in it, a version of flight. It was also something I had already succeeded with just wearing the incomplete upper half of my armor. I had just wanted to be able to do it without armor, to feel the wind in my hair and on my face. However, that would just have to wait until I finished more of the metal cloth and found a seamstress for it. Thinking about everything I still had on my list, I almost felt dismayed. I still had soto do.I finished my computer assignment in Mrs Knott's class and emailed it to her to grade. Then I set out to do a little research on Parahumans dot net. I was really only killing time until Mr Gladly's class. I had decided that today was the day I confronted him regarding his about face on the bullying. While in some ways I was dreading the answer, I felt like I really needed to know.More importantly, it was my last day at Winslow High as my request all those months ago to transfer to Arcadia had finally come through and I was starting there tomorrow. Principal Blackwell had made sure to let me know that she had found a way to make it happen and that I should be suitable grateful. I had managed to say thanks while gritting my teeth. Still, it was a new start and I was actually looking forward to school tomorrow with people I didn't know and who didn't know me.After a few minutes, I actually got interested in my research as it had turned up a potential name for a seamstress. It turned out that a local rogue named Parian was supposed to be a whiz with a needle and thread, and who primarily focused her efforts on parades and animating huge figures, mascots, animals, and such. Still, there was no reason that she wouldn't be able to make clothes as well. I actually preferred the idea of working with another Parahuman rather than a normal person.I'd need to talk to her. I was pretty sure I had enough metal cloth to at least get started. The only sticking point was money, but I hoped we could work something out. Heck, maybe I could make her some super scissors or something.All too soon, the class was over and I headed to World Issues. I sat in my usual seat, now that I didn't have to worry about the presence of anything from glue to orange juice anymore and waited more or less patiently for the class to finish. Of course, it dragged along forever as today was a day for discussion groups, and my misfit one was a complete waste of time.When the bell finally rang, I stifled a sigh of relief and lingered as the last of my classmates filed out the door. Mr Gladly had an almost apprehensive look on his face as he noticed me still sitting there. After a moment, when I didn't leave, he asked, “Taylor, is there something I can do for you?”I took a deep breath, ignoring the sick feeling in my stomach. Getting up, I walked over to stand in front of him. “I wanted to talk with you. About what happened a few weeks ago. With Sarah Mitchell.” There. I'd said it. Now I waited for his response.He didn't look surprised and his questions seemed more rote than genuine. “Why? Did something else happen? Is she bullying you again?”I shook my head. “No. It's nothing like that. I just wanted to know...”Mr Gladly's face wore an expression of dread, as if he were afraid of me even as he asked, “Know what?”With a rush, I got out, “Why you never helped me before with any of the bullying that Sophia, Emma, or Madison did?”His eyes slid off of mine as he looked down and away to his left. He hedged, “I don't know what you mean, Taylor. I encouraged you to come with me to talk to Principal Blackwell, but you refused.”With more courage than I thought I possessed, I stated, “Mr Gladly, you are not a stupid man. You know what I mean. You saw them do far, far worse to me than what Sarah did. So did other teachers. And none of you ever did anything to stop them. I just want to know why.tell me.”Mr Gladly wearily perched on the corner of his desk, shoulders slumping. His eyes looked dull as he looked down at the floor. “Taylor, I'm sorry, but I can't tell you that.”In a flat tone, I responded, “You mean you won't.”His eyes met mine finally. There was a look of such shame in them that I wanted to turn away. “No, I mean I can't tell you. I can't talk about it. None of us can. We all signed- look, I could get in trouble just talking to you. Please leave this alone for both our sakes. You got your transfer. You're out. Live your life. Forget about this.”I stood there, frozen, my mind working furiously. What was he talking about? What had he signed? A nondisclosure agreement or something else? If it was the former, the only thing he would need to fear for prosecution was the government. Who else could scare him? So it almost had to be them in some fashion. Was it the FBI? US Marshalls? Was Sophia or one of the others in witness protection? It seemed unlikely. Was it...Like lightning, a thought hit me. The Protectorate and the PRT. Teachers wouldn't need to know about someone in witness protection, but if a teenage cape, a member of the Wards, was going here, they would need to be told to be understanding of their extra duties. To give them the benefit of the doubt. To let them slide if they did something minor wrong.I could feel bile rising in my throat as my mind grasped the ramifications of someone like Sophia Hess, Emma Barnes, or Madison Clements being considered a hero and a member of the Wards. Bit by bit, I could feel numbness spreading through me as my dream was ground away by this new, brutal reality. Bitterly, I realized that even after all of this time I wasn't free of them. They were still finding new ways to hurt me even when they were no longer here. To take away the things I loved, leaving me with ashes.“Taylor, are you okay?”I heard the concern in Mr Gladly's voice and wanted to scream at him. I wanted to use my ability and burn him down where he stood for his part in what had happened. Instead, I held it in. I counted to ten, then to ten again as I struggled to regain my composure. But there seemed to be no number that could contain it.“Taylor?”I could feel tears starting to sting my eyes and blinked furiously. I would not give them the satisfaction of making me cry. Never again. I placed the words like armor across my heart. Never again. I would die first.As if from a great distance, I heard the worry in Mr Gladly's voice. “Taylor! Are you all right?”Suddenly, I was aware of the flickering light from overhead. An icy feeling washed over me as I realized I could be outed. If I lost control here, they would know I was a cape. And if I were revealed, I could be pressured to join the Wards. I took an iron grip on my emotions and managed a reply, “I'm fine.”Mr Gladly stood, almost wringing his hands as he stared at me. The lights had finally settled down. Glancing upward, he offered a weak joke, “Darn power company. If that had kept up, we'd need to be breaking out sticks for people to bite down on to keep the convulsions from breaking their teeth.”Unfortunately, I couldn't even offer him a weak smile in return. I wanted to ask him if he thought I was a Parahuman after that little display. Instead, I just stood there impassively until he finally asked, “Was there anything else, Taylor?”I shook my head and shouldered my pack. I started out the door, then paused. I half turned back towards him. “Thanks, Mr Gladly. For talking to me. And... for everything.”He hesitated a second. “I am truly sorry, Taylor.”Wordlessly, I turned back around and left, feeling his sad eyes following me until I was out of sight.