The present, taken as a whole, felt like a painting that refused to stay still. More like a movie paused mid-frame, except everything was smeared together into a muddle.
Depending on how it shifted, patterns sometimes emerged. A dominant color. Repeating shapes. Bursts of motion that blurred together into something almost readable.
That was the future.
At least, that’s what she thought…
Thinking hurt.
Her head was always pounding, a dull pressure that never fully went away. It was a little better now that her parents weren’t home.
They asked so many questions. It hurt.
So she tried not to think.
She sat on the couch instead, knees tucked in, staring at nothing. Looking too hard made it worse. For a while, she’d been stuck in bed because even opening her eyes felt like death.
It had gotten better with time. Before, a single question was enough to leave her shaking and bedridden. Now she could manage a few before she had to stop and rest.
Sometimes, though… she wished she hadn’t started asking at all.
“Chances of something really bad happening to me within the next month…” she whispered.
The mosaic shifted. Colors slid over one another, patterns snapping into place just long enough for her to see.
“Fifty-seven point three percent chance.”
Her head spiked with pain. Her eyes watered. She clenched her jaw and breathed through it. She had to keep asking. The future churned endlessly in front of her, colors folding and refolding, infinite paths branching and collapsing.
She wanted to reach out, to just see the one where things worked out.
But she couldn’t. The last time she tried, the pain had been too much, and everything she saw slipped through her mind.
“Focus,” she murmured. “Just… keep to the rules.” She swallowed. “Chances of my family dying within the next month?”
The mosaic twisted violently. She winced, vision blurring as she slumped sideways, but she saw it.
“Thirty point five percent.”
She frowned.
It was still so high…
When she’d first realized she could see the future, she’d thought telling someone would fix things. Her parents. Her uncle. Rory. Anyone.
But every time she tried—every time she made a fuss or tried to show proof—the future showed the same result.
They died.
It happened a little differently each time. Sometimes it was her mom making a call. Sometimes it was her cousin taking her to the PRT. Sometimes it was something else entirely. But whenever she tried to bring attention to it, it happened anyway, even when she asked more questions, even when she tried to plan around it.
No matter what she did, the numbers changed against her.
The only way to avoid it was not to make a fuss at all. When she stayed quiet, the chances dropped.
But the bad thing never went away.
She couldn’t let it hurt everyone. Even if it still happened to her.
She wouldn’t let her family die.
If she could just ask enough questions, she’d find a way. At least… she hoped she would. The only thing she could do was keep asking, even if it hurt.
A knock at the door made her groan.
“Did Mom come home…” she mumbled.
She could take a short break. Just a moment. She pushed herself up and shuffled toward the door, hand on the knob—then froze.
“Greetings, Miss Alcott. I’ve been sent to speak with you.”
The man bowed his head. He was older, neatly groomed, dressed in a dark suit with a bow tie.
“Wuh—um. Did my parents send you?” She stared at him. A butler? Really? She knew she was stuck at home, but this felt like a bit much for her parents. Even if it was… kind of cool.
“My apologies, miss. I was not sent by your parents.” He straightened. “My employer wishes to speak with you. I would also like to clarify that we mean you no harm. If you wish for me to leave, I shall do so at once.”
He produced a phone and held it out to her.
“However, I believe speaking with my employer would be beneficial, young lady.”
She hesitated, heart pounding. Part of her wanted to scream. Instead, reluctantly, she asked the question.
What are the chances this man and his employer will hurt me?
Zero percent.
Her head twitched in surprise.
“…Okay,” she said quietly, taking the phone.
There was only a single contact on it. She stared for half a second, then dialed. The line picked up almost immediately.
“Hello, Dinah.”
“…Hi.”
“This must be strange for you, so I’ll be brief. There is a man named Coil who is going to try to kidnap you in the future.”
“You know about the bad man,” she blurted out before she could stop herself.
“So you do know.” There was a hint of surprise in his voice. “Then let me add this: I’m aware you can see the future, Dinah. I’m doing my best to phrase my sentences carefully so you don’t get headaches from my questions.”
“…Okay.”
Relief hit her all at once. Someone knew. She hadn’t realized how much that mattered until now.
“Dinah, you don’t have to be afraid. The bad man is going to… go away. I promise. But to do that—I’m sorry, is it alright if I ask one question?”
Relief at not having to fight or explain anything made her nod before she remembered he couldn’t see her.
“Okay.”
“Will Coil leave Brockton Bay in the next twenty-four hours?”
Countless worlds rose, twisting and folding in on themselves. She winced, fingers curling as the pressure spiked.
“Zero point five percent chance,” she said, fidgeting as she felt the ache.
“I see. Thank you, Dinah.” His tone softened. “I promise he won’t bother you ever again.”
“You’re not going to ask more?”
“No. Not without your permission.” A pause. “Although I think you’d be willing to help if you were able. There are some very bad people I may need to ask you about in the future, if you don’t mind.”
“Who?” she asked.
“The Slaughterhouse Nine.”
“Oh…” With her power, she might be able to save a lot of people.
“Get some rest, Dinah,” he said gently. “And don’t worry about the bad man coming for you. I’ve sent a friend to protect you.”
“Friend?”
She turned and looked at the butler. He shook his head once, then reached into his pocket.
Sand spilled onto the floor.
It moved.
Almost magically, the sand pulled itself together, clumping and shaping until it formed a small, poorly made doll. It looked like a tiny puppy. A bit lumpy. Definitely fat.
“The Fool is a good friend,” the voice on the phone continued. “He’ll defend you and your family. He can manipulate sand and deal with most capes in the Bay fairly easily. But if you don’t trust him, I can take him back.”
The little sand dog did a clumsy shuffle, like a wag without a tail.
Cute.
“No, it’s okay,” Dinah said, crouching down. She reached out and gently petted the sand pup. It seemed to like it, its form softening as it curled around her hand.
“I’ve got to go, Dinah. Be well, kid. Keep this phone and call me if you ever need a hand. If you go to the PRT, feel free to tell them we had this conversation.”
“Bye-bye.”
She sat back down with the little dog in her lap. Despite being made of sand, its shape shifted again and again, turning into different kinds of dogs until she started giggling. The butler bowed once more and quietly disappeared around the corner.
After a moment, she whispered one last question.
“Chances of something really bad happening to me within the next month…”
The mosaic shifted. Her head began to ache, but she grinned as she saw the answer.
“…Zero.”
The Bay was beautiful in a rough, stubborn way. I hadn’t appreciated it the night before, but seeing it from the water made it hard to ignore. Rusted docks, half-dead ships, abandoned buildings lining the shoreline. I could pick all of it out, even from this far away.
Ugly, sure. Still, there was something almost poetic about how the city endured, lights filling the night like it refused to give up.
Or maybe I was just relaxed enough to get sentimental.
Hypnos’ Blessing was pulling its weight as one of the most useful damn rolls I’d ever gotten. Either that, or putting some literal distance between myself and a Simurgh-shaped death sentence was doing wonders for my psyche. I’d slept through the night and still woken up feeling one hundred percent.
Talking to Dinah early that morning had helped, too. Poor kid was wound tight, stress layered on stress from everything Deeds had told me, but hopefully that was going to change soon.
A day of rest was enough.
Now it was time to get to work.
I double-checked the phone Deeds had pilfered. I’d sent a few texts after giving Dinah time to rest, asking about Coil’s location.
I’d briefly considered just sweeping the city. But that was pretty much guaranteed to cause an obscene amount of collateral damage.
So the questions I’d sent earlier had been carefully worded. Broad enough to avoid specifics, detailed enough to point me in the right direction.
The result boiled down to a simple answer.
Ninety-seven percent chance of running into Coil if I headed west.
Good enough.
I reached into my inventory and pulled out the Cloak of Levitation, letting it settle around my shoulders as the wind picked up.
I shot Ridley a look. The space dragon huffed, then grudgingly lowered himself so Igris could climb onto his back.
We took to the skies quickly, staying relatively low and keeping an even pace so I could keep an eye on the city. I caught people pointing up at us, a few stopping outright to gawk, but I ignored them.
Flying over the Bay was mostly boring. Seconds slid by as we sped westward, my attention half-focused, eyes sweeping the streets out of habit more than expectation.
Naturally, the peace didn’t last.
“Hey!”
A blonde girl in a short skirt and a fake tiara shot up in front of us, blocking our path.
“…Ugh.”
“What do you mean, ugh?” Glory Girl snapped, clearly offended.
“Sorry?” I said.
Fantastic. My greatest weakness. Teenage girls. I’d rather be dealing with Nazis.
She launched into a tirade about unwritten rules, hero etiquette, and something about turning myself in. I mostly tuned her out.
The PRT was something I didn’t want to piss off. Mostly because I didn’t feel like having the government and Cauldron breathing down my neck. Not yet, at least. It was an annoyance bomb I could exploit later if I really needed tickets.
New Wave was a bit different. Same bomb, different flavor. Emotional landmines instead of groups of heroes trying to kill me. Amy Dallon’s whole… situation was a mess. Unlike Dinah’s problem, hers couldn’t be solved with simple brute force. I’d already decided to ignore it and circle back later.
Which led to this.
I wasn’t brutal enough to attack a teenage girl, no matter how irritating. Especially not one whose potential well-being might send one of the most dangerous biokinetics on the planet spiraling.
“Are you even listening to me?” Glory Girl demanded, fists clenching as her aura flared.
How do you deal with an emotionally compromised teenager who you can’t hurt without causing a bigger disaster?
“No.”
You do what any self-respecting adult does.
You ignore the problem!
I flowed into roses and shot upward, the air rushing past me as I accelerated. Ridley followed instantly, surging up after me without hesitation.
I heard Glory Girl scream as she tried to follow, her voice stretching thin as she failed to keep up.
It was fun. Just racing through open sky, the city blurring beneath us, her presence falling farther and farther behind until I was sure we’d shaken her.
Then I angled us downward again, diving west.
The city rushed closer, details snapping into focus, and then I saw it.
Somers Rock.
I only needed a second to recognize what I was looking at. Cars lined the road, too many of them, with clusters of people standing around.
The reinforced van stood out immediately. Armored panels. Guards spread around it in a practiced formation, tinkertech guns held at the ready.
And there, clear as day in the middle of it all, Coil’s snake-motif bodysuit.
Bingo.
I tapped Ridley’s side. The dragon’s grin widened, his mouth opening as he let out a primal scream.
Fire gouted downward, slamming into the road and burning the van to cinders.
[Feat Achieved! Kill the Catspaw!]
[+1 Bronze Gacha Ticket]
I clicked my tongue at the notification.
A body double?
Screams scattered as people ran, powers flaring on instinct. Another pillar of flame erupted from the opposite side, shooting up toward us.
Lung was already growing, scales crawling across his skin as he roared.
Metal screamed into existence as a barrier of metal spikes formed, Kaiser’s constructs surging upward. I spotted several Empire capes scrambling for cover alongside him.
I felt my grin widen.
I could find the real one later.
How nice of him to bring me a feast.
***
Started another Chaos Gacha Fic called Gotham Goon Gacha(DC/Chaos Gacha) check it out if you're interested
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