“…Faster-moving or durable capes are ideal for this rear guard.” Cinereal stated.

“Bring it back?” Scribe asked. ‘Rune’. Our kid Nazi from Brockton Bay, not so redeemed.

“If you can.”

The image on the screen behind Cinereal had text listing what she was saying, transcribed as fast as she said the words. One team to lead, one team to flank, one team to hold the rear and decide in a crisis if they needed to support the other two teams or run for it and take what information they had back to the Bunker.

“Let’s say we can. What then?” she asked. Fuck, I’d always kind of hated her, just the tone of voice and the way she always looked like she’d smelled a fart, like she was disgusted with everything. The costume was cute, but it really didn’t work with her overall… everything else. “Are you staying here?”

“I’m going, leading a primary team. I remained behind because my power is better at defense than offense. If we fail here, I don’t know what we do. The returning capes should do what they can to disseminate word that things have reached a critical state, while remaining safe in the Bunker. You could attempt to get into remote contact with other teams, fence-sitters, and villains to mount a third operation.”

“Third time’s a charm,” Scribe said, drawing an icon in the air that fizzled out of existence. “Maybe something different.”

“Those who bring messages back can decide what’s best, based on what they found.”

I turned to my right, looking over at the Malfunctions. Finale wasn’t with—she didn’t like the big stuff. Withdrawal and Caryatid were sitting with Fume Hood. I’d pointed them her way or vice versa, or grouped them at one point.

I didn’t want anything bad to befall them. They’d been people I’d brought in or tried to convince to get back into things.

“Objectives,” Cinereal said. “We’re recommending paths for each team. You’re moving through a three-dimensional structure, and it’s best to plot your route with the type and nature of the room in mind. We’re intentionally putting you on paths that should lead you into other teams from the first wave attack.”

And into what stopped them.

Everyone knew it, nobody said it. There were things we could gripe about, like team distribution or Foxtrot asking why we weren’t going in together, Imp questioning the working strategies against Teacher, or Scribe asking what happened later.

And there were things we couldn’t do shit about. There weren’t good options. Ignoring this whole thing wasn’t something we could do in good conscience.

Teacher would take the world.

⊙

“We never established anything like that,” Roman said, audibly heated.

“I learned to read first, I learned math first, I got straight As.”