Paris glanced through the mask that covered his brow, nose, and cheekbones, peering at the crowd. Rain pattered off of his hood. He looked cold—a guy as tall with as little body weight as he had probably didn’t retain heat well, and being soaked in cold weather impacted him. He still managed to stand with head erect, no visible signs other than clenched fists and a slightly drawn-out look to his face.

“I had a taste of revenge,” Paris said.

“What?” I asked.

“Capricorn. You took photos while out with Moonsong, didn’t you?”

“What did you do?” Byron asked.

“I had a taste of revenge. The Shepherds and Advance Guard came after us. And the Shepherds are led by Moonsong.”

Byron struggled to stand. Chastity gave him a hand, while being unable to stand herself, her shoulder as a support.

Standing up, moisture streaming off of his armor, Capricorn flinched as a spasm caught him by the side.

“What have you done?” Byron asked.

“You let me, Thud, Vulturehawk and Contender walk away, I’ll tell you what you want to know. And you do want to know this.”

Byron’s gauntlet squeaked. He looked to Swansong and me.

“Could be a lie,” Swansong said.

“It’s up to you,” I told Byron. “We’ll manage either way.”

“No,” Byron said. “Not up to me.”

He blurred, and the blur separated. Two segments, side by side. An armored Capricorn, insides partially hanging out.

Paris didn’t look especially happy at the sight. But there was something in him that looked… satisfied? Behind him and all around us, veins of rock ran through the water in the irrigation canals, filling the bottoms of ditches.

Tristan lay there, arms propping him up, Chastity providing more support. I saw villains in the larger group behind Bluestocking look away.

“Do what you have to. Save our old teammate. Paris will get what he deserves—eventually.”

“I deserve to see you suffer ten times what I did for your fake murder charge. This? It’s a beginning,” Paris said.

Tristan began to change back. As the blur fought to reconcile, I had to wince, worrying about what would happen if it didn’t.

“For those who don’t know, Cradle did that to multiple people. For those who do know and allowed it to happen? Fuck you.”

“Extenuating circumstances,” Prancer said. He tapped his hand, where a faint mark dotted the side.

I didn’t respond. Up on the road, Tristan became Byron again, and the veins of rock splashed violently, the water resettling. A few people flinched or reacted with surprise.

“He knows you’re coming, and he researched who we were up against. Breakthrough. Foil. He knows Foil can shoot through anything, that Precipice can break through anything if he uses his power and then hits it hard enough. He knows that… they’ll be tempted to.”

“What?” I heard Foil. She was still in the ditch, still recovering.