She stopped. She looked down at Kenzie. Kenzie’s projection looked up at her. For a moment, it looked like an impossible decision, a paralyzing one.

“I miss you more than almost anything,” Kenzie said.

Ashley dropped her hand, the claw clacking against the floor.

“The worst thing about the world ending is I might not get to see more of you,” Kenzie said.

The tone had shifted. Capes adjusted their footing. Armor creaked. I hated every little sound, because I worried it might set things off again, disturbing the moment.

Ashley looked off to one side. “You shouldn’t admit to weakness. It’s unbecoming.”

“Right,” Kenzie said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Ashley looked down the hall at me, then back down to Kenzie.

“The harder we try to be strong, the weaker we are.”

“I know. It’s sort of the same here,” Kenzie replied, nodding.

“It’s kind of at the heart of the plan,” I said, from a distance. “Accepting that sometimes we have to be weak, step down, let the current take us.”

Ashley nodded.

“I’m still getting used to that,” Kenzie admitted.

“Are they taking care of you?” Ashley asked.

“They’re a little preoccupied. But mostly.”

“So I’ve heard. Did you… join them?”

Ashley was tense as she asked it.

“No. That’s part of where I feel left out.”

“Perhaps I should offer them some assistance? Lighten the load, provide one less distraction?”

Kenzie shrugged.

“You’d better act fast,” she said, turning to look at the heroes nearest her. “Before I slip.”

“I’ve got you,” I told her. The Fragile One reached out and touched her, pressing blood to bare shoulder.

She shivered, full-body. “You’d better restrain me, so you don’t have any further Damsel problems.”

Some heroes hurried to the task.

Kenzie sighed, heavy. She looked at me. “I’ve got to get back to work. Side projects, recording things so people know what they need to know.”

“Don’t go touching Chicken Little,” I told her.

She stared at me for a little too long. Her projection didn’t have the helmet on.

“Byron is—”

“On the roof,” I said. “I know.”

⊙

I arrived on the rooftop, feeling very much like a third wheel, even as other capes arrived. The sky around us distorted, distant places lunging to be in close. Portals a short distance away had been distorted to be large, providing huge windows for Vista’s space distortions.

“Need anything?” I asked.

“No,” Byron said.

“You’re content?” I asked.

He sat on a shielded ventilation duct with Vista beside him.

“Mostly,” he said.

Vista elbowed him, hard. Her elbow protector clacked hard against his armor.

“Not anything to do with you,” he told her. He pointed.

The distance was laced with red, ominous and spreading. I could see the silhouettes of the largest Titans.