“Tristan had bonds,” Byron said, staring down at the ground. “I don’t think that’s it.”

“Either way,” I said. “It’s a workable idea. I have no idea what the long term ramifications would be, but… it’s worth keeping in mind.”

“Great idea,” Chris said, his tone sarcastic. “When the entire army of parahumans goes off the deep end and starts trying to eat each other in the midst of a thousand-person orgy, the Titans will be so freaked out they’ll stop what they’re doing and start planning the fastest route off this planet.”

“It wouldn’t come to that,” Rain said. “Bleedthrough and kiss-kill are overstated. It wouldn’t happen in five minutes.”

“It’s more intense in large clusters,” Chris said.

“What?”

“I studied up on some things when I was on the team,” Chris said, his voice low and quiet. He looked away, scanning the walls, where only a few images flickered. “But you’re welcome to try. Just don’t include me while you’re at it. It wouldn’t be five minutes, but it wouldn’t be five years, either.”

“Hell,” Rain muttered. “Really glad I disconnected Gilpatrick and the rest of that group from the dream room.”

“I like the directions you’re thinking, Rain,” I said. “I’m not sure how doable it is, but… I like it.”

“I’m drawing on experience, mostly. Thinking about the Fallen, and what my cluster did.”

“It’s good,” I said, again. “I don’t have any broad strategies in mind. I’m thinking about other things. Big picture—not the cape, the dynamic. I feel like there’s a way to topple them, or make them stop and pay attention to us.”

“Blowing up the shardstuff did something to get their attention,” Sveta said. “But it hurt us.”

She rubbed at her arm.

I nodded. “It’s something I’m keeping pinned up on the bulletin board in my mind. Stepping back, though… way, way back… what if we don’t look at the person that is Contessa?”

“The Titan?” Sveta asked.

“I’m talking about the past,” I said.

The images on the wall changed to Contessa, wearing clothes from another Earth.

“Is there any insight about this?” I asked, and I lifted a foot, stomping on the black crystal. The echo was loud and eerie, reverberating off the walls. “Why is this crystal black and not red?”

The scene on the wall changed.

It was something I’d heard about but hadn’t seen. Not seen and remembered. People had made attempts at illustrating it, but it did nothing to convey the effect of actually seeing it.