She identified capes she was reasonably confident could help, and asked them to help support Legend. Then she composed messages for Drank Tank and Anomaly. Her message to Drank Tank acknowledged his injuries and fatigue, but highlighted that he was specifically equipped for this task. Anomaly had faced a very tough time of things for four years preceding Gold Morning, and had retired after the event. Her message to him was a first and last appeal.

She made Anomaly’s phone ring, despite the fact it had been set to mute. He answered and read the message, then called Dragon’s child system.

Back in the headquarters, many of the key players had filed into the lobby, with the impossibly high ceiling and the staircase up to the top of the old Cauldron base with its branching paths leading to various floors. Advance Guard, the Shepherds, Foresight, Semiramis, Little Midas, Marquis. The truism she’d noted earlier still held. Sweaty, grimy, the aesthetics of costumes worn down by varying degrees of battle damage, patch jobs, and improvising of winter-wear and equipment.

Too many things here needed attention. She let the child system handle the call. It was capable.

Very few stood straight. Part of that was that the people who were strong enough to not be worn out by this point were important enough to have seats on the ‘stage’, an elevator at the base of the stairs that would run up the length of the stairs, carrying any vehicles with it.

Capes gathered behind their leaders and lieutenants. Some even sat on the floor, at the base of pillars or against the walls.

Breakthrough entered. Antares, at the very least, stood tall, even though she had dark circles under her eyes. Capricorn was with Vista, and between injuries and the death of his brother, the fact he looked fatigued was understandable. Precipice was injured. Tress had issues with her limbs. Cryptid’s appearance in the group was as strange as Lookout’s absence. His being hunched over seemed to be a quality of his twisted, shaggy, long-limbed form, in addition to his natural propensity, as Lab Rat or this cloned child.

No Lookout. Dragon was secretly glad. She had harbored concerns the team would go to talk to Lookout and return with the child in tow.

Antares came right to her.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t reply earlier. We were fighting,” Dragon told her.

“It’s fine. I understand.”

Dragon checked. “You just met with Lookout. Should I take over?”

“Please do,” Antares told her.

“She won’t fight me? I only ask because it would change how I approach it.”

“She won’t.”

Dragon turned on servers, and set about taking over Lookout’s workshop and the contents therein.

“You’re still wearing peripherals. How would you like me to handle those? I could connect your gun to the one you’re wearing. It would be better than the beeps, I’m sure.”