“That’s not the convention, you dolt. I try to make it sound good. It’d be Wallowing Filth or something.”

“Oh God,” Capricorn said. He shook his head. “This team.”

“I’ll stop,” Lookout said.

“If anyone can overhear, I think they’ve made up their mind already,” Capricorn said.

A few of the stragglers were arriving, now. The last-minute change of location had screwed some people up. Most fleshed out other groups. A few solo individuals stood off to one side.

I spotted Longscratch. He didn’t join Tempera and Fume Hood.

I spotted my mom and dad. They were together, part of the same ramshackle group I’d seen my mom with when they’d been dealing with the student protesters.

An odd, uncomfortable feeling, seeing that.

Dad had updated his costume a little, too.

The key players of our big meeting here were the last to arrive. The trees swayed as the wind changed, and the soft roar of engines preceded the display.

A Dragon-craft, sleek and powerful, loaded to bear with weapons. It descended slowly with engines working against gravity, emitting a blue shimmer into the air that diffused into the area, tinting the craft’s surroundings.

It landed in the water, and the head rested on the stone. The occupants emerged.

Yeah, that was something. Wow. After getting taken out of the picture like I had, I’d missed so much of what had gone on in Brockton Bay, during the latter part of the Slaughterhouse Nine attacking, the villain takeover and the heroes’ attempt to establish the peace. I’d missed this.

Defiant. Armsmaster.

An awful lot of the bad that had flowed from that point in time had been due to a lack of leadership on the heroes’ side. Miss Militia had stepped up, but Armsmaster had ‘retired’ after flipping out at the hospital. My sister had filled me in on details. We’d been left short on good guys when we’d really needed them.

Things were never going to be okay after an Endbringer attack. I knew that. I’d known it to the core of my being when I’d attended Eric and Uncle Neil’s funerals, my dad unable to stand for segments because he hadn’t had the faculties. I’d known it when I’d lost Dean.

But something had gone fundamentally wrong, even beyond that. Between the Endbringer first arriving and the Slaughterhouse Nine, things had gone from a bad situation to something almost unsalvageable.

I wanted to know what. I wanted to know more about the role he played in it or the perspective he had on it.

Because we were in a place very close to that.

“Can we ambush them, knock them out, and then see about kidnapping the Speedrunner guys, just so I can have two forevers to look at her stuff?” Lookout asked.

“Either one of them would kick our asses,” Sveta said.

“I’m joking,” Lookout said.

“Maybe if we ask nicely,” I said.

People were drawing closer to the vantage point. Dragon was greeting Narwhal, leaning in close enough to say something in her ear. Narwhal smiled.