I touched his face, and I wiped the snow away from the eyes.

“Hey!” This from the woman in charge.

I ignored her. My eyes were fixed on him. Scaffold, half his stomach, one arm, and everything below the waist missing, his jaw unhinged, crushed his eyes closed, then opened them. His eyes met mine, wavering like he couldn’t really see me half the time.

“We need medical attention!” I shouted. “He’s alive!”

Oh no, I thought. He’s alive, and he has no power that’s anything like that.

He had no right or ability to be alive, which meant—

Horror surged through me as I flew over the field. People were rushing to Scaffold, and I was rushing to find a piece of meat that I could recognize.

A quarter of a human head, a fragment of mask clinging to it by stubbornness and the stickiness of gore more than by mechanics. A single eye.

I turned it, so the eye faced the headlight. The pupil narrowed.

“They’re all alive!” I shouted. “It might be every piece!”

They’d been hanging back, everything happening slowly, sticking together for numbers against a parahuman threat, and to provide light. Now they were acting, everyone in motion. Nobody with any idea what to do.

The woman in charge had to shout at people who were heading to the bushes to throw up, because pieces had been strewn so far and wide across the field that there might be some in the bushes.

When she was done shouting, and when most people had their orders or had decided they’d be useless, the woman was left leaning against the hood of her car, hands in her pockets, her eyes wide.

“They said something was off,” she muttered. “I figured powers, right?”

I pressed my lips closed, watching. At this stage I wasn’t sure what to do that wouldn’t put me in the way.

“What do I even do?” she asked.

“We see if we can put them back together, or if we can give them mercy,” I said.

“I meant… this is going to be a nightmare, with everything that’s already going on.”

I could picture Love Lost’s group. I remembered Sidepiece’s words about the state of the itinerant villain.

“Don’t tell anyone anything yet. Get your guys to keep quiet,” I said, my voice low and quiet. I met her eyes, incredulous eyes, and then I explained just why it was necessary.

Polarize 10.11

“B. Alright. Which half? Again. Alright. T, U. Alright. Ambulance? Ambush? Ambush it is. I’m going to write that down.”

My voice didn’t sound like mine, as I went through the steps. Robotic, methodical, motivated rather than cheer. No, cheer was the polar opposite of the emotion that touched my voice. Harrowed fit better. My finger shook as I moved it to the screen of my phone, to the point where I missed the ‘A’.