Twisted and Accursed, Chapter 30

“Collin, I’m going after the sniper!” Dragon practically screamed through the comms as her Dragon Suits flew up and away.

This was not supposed to happen.

Armsmaster’s boots skidded across the blood-slick deck, his eyes locked onto the girl’s still form. Taylor Hebert lay crumpled in her father’s arms, her chest shredded, heart, lungs, and bones torn to ruin. Danny’s fingers dug into her shoulders as if he could hold her together by sheer will, his face twisted with grief.

She should’ve been dead.

But his helmet picked up something – a heartbeat. Barely there, pulsing in irregular staccato. Then, faster. Stronger. No one could’ve survived that. But... then again, powers were under no obligation to make sense. Her shredded chest seemed to ripple, tendons and muscles weaving back together, knitting like a tapestry. Collin’s breath hitched. Black lines crawled from her neck, spidering across her skin in a weave of thick tattoos. They snaked over her jaw, laced down her hands, and traced the thin lines of her fingers. The air around her grew heavy, dense, charged with a menace that set his nerves on edge.

Something did not feel right about this.

Danny stared in stunned silence. His hand, once pressing down on a blood-soaked wound, now lay on intact, unmarked skin. His face went pale as Taylor’s eyes snapped open.

But the gaze that met Danny’s was empty of warmth. There was no fear, no sadness – just a cold, calculating hunger that twisted her lips into a smirk. Her hand reached out, flexing as though testing its own strength, curling in and out of a fist. The girl’s brow creased, but her mouth curled with satisfaction. Collin noted the sheer difference in in the girl’s micro-expressions. It was undeniably Taylor Hebert’s face, but it also seemed like it was no longer her in there.

Armsmaster took a sharp step forward. “Taylor?”

Her head turned, that same sinister smile spreading. She tilted her head, her voice dripping with mocking amusement. “Close, but not quite.”

A moment of silence. Then she laughed – low, bitter, and dark. The laugh grew, filling the space around her, reverberating through the deck. He felt it in his bones, an ancient malice seeping from her, each note thick with something cruel.

Collin’s fingers tensed around his halberd. This wasn’t Taylor. He could see it in her gaze, an eerie stillness lurking behind her eyes. Did the girl have some kind of Dissociative Identity Disorder? Her conversation with her father seemed to hint at the possibility. She mentioned a Sukuna. And preliminary searches yielded nothing but obscure Japanese Demons, but nothing more – nothing substantive.

Was that the case? Did Taylor have an alternate ‘Sukuna’ personality that was far more dangerous than her ‘Taylor’ persona?

This was... possibly very dangerous. Capes with DID were known to exist and their behaviors were often erratic and unpredictable, with some personalities being violent and others heroic.

Before he could react, Taylor raised her hand, fingers trailing through the air like a conductor leading an unseen orchestra. She sliced her arm downward, and the air shimmered, charged with a pulsing, invisible force. It twisted and snapped – and then a soundless slash tore through metal and stone.

Steel groaned, beams severing clean through, walls and supports shearing apart like paper. The floor buckled beneath them as the Rig lurched and shook. Collin staggered back, eyes widening as the structure fractured around him, falling inward, chunks of concrete and twisted metal crashing down. His gaze snapped back to her. Just like Winslow.

The Rig was unraveling, each section collapsing as if by design.

“Save the troopers!” Armsmaster barked, throwing himself flat as a beam the size of a car tore through the floor, whipping toward him. It smashed through the deck, shattering concrete, warping metal, and sending him sprawling, pain spiking through his shoulder. He rolled just as another beam crashed down, shielding his face as debris scattered in all directions. Scrambling out from beneath it, he barely evaded a whip of twisted rebar that sliced across his cheek.

Danny clutched Taylor’s arm, his mouth open in a silent scream. The heroes on the Rig broke into a frantic scramble. Valor and Flashbang dove to shield nearby officers, while Laserdream shot into the air, blasting an incoming column aside. Energy blasts streaked through the collapsing structure as she pushed forward, the concussive waves scattering twisted steel and sending soldiers tumbling back.

Through the chaos, Taylor laughed, her voice rolling through the air, dark and mocking. Her fingers moved with a fluid grace, as though orchestrating the destruction itself. She swept her hand forward, and the Rig’s walls buckled, metal tearing from its bolts, explosions bursting from ruptured pipes and shattered lines.

One section of the Rig collapsed in a cloud of smoke, spewing flames and charred rubble. Heroes flung themselves clear, choking on the billowing dust. Armsmaster’s gaze snapped back to Taylor, but she barely glanced his way. She watched her handiwork with a smug satisfaction, her body radiating an unyielding, vicious power.

Velocity streaked forward in a blur from behind her, almost invisible. But Taylor didn’t even look. With a flick of her wrist, a red slash sliced through the air. Velocity stumbled, clutching his side, blood spilling between his fingers as he staggered back. The wound wasn’t deep, but it was a warning.

“Bad idea,” he muttered, wincing.

The assembled capes froze, their eyes darting between her and the collapsing ruin. They were tense, too wary to make a move. The Rig was coming down in sections, and yet, Taylor stood calm, tranquil amidst the chaos. Armsmaster’s jaw clenched, his grip tightening on his halberd.

“Stand down!” he shouted, voice steely with authority. But her smile only grew, eyes gleaming with a cold, delighted malice. Gritting his teeth, Armsmaster charged forward. The last thing he wanted was to fight a teenager, but he had no choice.

“Or what?” he heard her sneer just as the floor buckled beneath him, killing his momentum.

Taylor’s hand rose one last time, tracing an arc through the air with slow deliberation. Armsmaster’s stomach lurched as the Rig groaned under the pressure. A crack shot through the structure’s spine, and in an instant, the entire top deck split, tearing in two like fragile glass.

Danny Hebert stared, frozen, hand closing over her wrist. “Taylor—”

She turned to him, a brief flicker of something in her eyes – a memory stirring, maybe – before her gaze hardened. With a flick of her wrist, she wrenched free. Her gaze settled on Danny, cool and detached, as though he were an insect under a magnifying glass.

“Enough,” she muttered, raising her hand toward him as if ready to strike – then she grimaced, hesitating. Instead, she pushed him away with a shove and made a shushing gesture. “Your daughter’s asleep. And neither of us wants her to wake up—not with what’s coming.”

The Rig groaned, fractured metal caving inward and falling in jagged chunks into the ocean below. As Taylor strode through the chaos, her smirk grew, taunting the heroes who now rushed to intercept her.

Glory Girl led the charge, expression steely with determination. She shot forward like a bullet, fists glowing with power, aiming straight for Taylor’s head. Taylor barely blinked as Glory Girl closed in; she waited until the last possible instant, then pivoted, slipping beneath the blow with a fluid sidestep. Glory Girl's punch struck empty air, momentum nearly sending her stumbling.

Taylor’s hand darted out in a blur, tapping Glory Girl’s wrist and redirecting her into the path of Laserdream’s incoming shot. Glory Girl jerked to the side just in time, but the shot sailed wide, clipping the Rig’s crumbling wall, sending concrete and twisted metal raining down around them. Laserdream scowled, her aim thrown, and readied another blast. But then Taylor kicked a piece of debris right towards her, forcing her to dodge, right into the still-flying Glorygirl.

The heroines collided.

Velocity streaked forward next, appearing behind Taylor in an instant, baton raised to strike. But before he could even swing, Taylor twisted, moving with a precision that bordered on preternatural. Her hand shot up, catching his wrist mid-swing. His eyes widened as she pivoted, using his own speed against him, and threw him off balance. Velocity tumbled, managing to right himself at the last second, but not without a hiss of frustration.

Battery and Assault surged forward next, moving in tandem to flank her. Assault leaped high, charging his strike with kinetic energy, while Battery moved low, aiming for her legs. Taylor smirked, eyes glinting with crimson malice, and sidestepped, allowing Assault’s charge to whiz past her. With a sharp pivot, she dropped low and swept her leg, catching Battery’s shin, sending her sprawling.

“Is this really all you’ve got?” Taylor taunted, voice echoing over the chaotic din. The tone with which she spoke was distinctly not Taylor Hebert. “Come on. At least try a little harder.”

Several of Dragon’s suits closed in around her in response, metal arms unfurling, armed with an array of containment devices, tasers, and grappling cables. They charged at her in tandem, mechanical legs thudding on the deck, each closing in with precise, synchronized movements. Taylor watched, an amused gleam in her eyes. One suit lunged, launching a heavy arm toward her, but she sidestepped, grabbing the arm and twisting. Metal screeched, joints snapping as she tore the arm clean off, using it as a bludgeon against another suit, denting its armor with a sickening crunch.

A third suit fired a grappling cable that wrapped around her ankle, locking in tight. Taylor paused, eyebrow arched, then jerked her foot upward, yanking the entire suit off balance and slamming it into the others like a wrecking ball. Sparks flew as the suits clattered to the ground, some still sparking and twitching, reduced to little more than scrap.

Finally, she stopped in the midst of the wreckage, turning with a satisfied grin, four eyes flashing a deep, menacing crimson.

“I’d love to play with you all, but I’ve got better things to do.” Her voice was mockingly sweet, dripping with disdain. “You guys need to calm down. You’re wasting your energy chasing me when the main event hasn’t even started.”

Armsmaster narrowed his eyes, steeling himself. He wouldn’t let her get away that easily. Heart pounding, he tightened his grip on his halberd, dashing forward with precision. His armor hummed as his weapon spun, blades sparking with energy, slashing at Taylor in a well-practiced arc.

Taylor sidestepped, her movements smooth, almost casual. Armsmaster swung again, faster, his halberd slicing down toward her shoulder. This time, she didn’t dodge; she raised her arm, stopping the weapon dead in its path, her fingers closing over the blade’s edge. Sparks flew as metal met her skin, but Taylor didn’t flinch, barely blinking as she twisted her wrist and wrenched the weapon from his grasp. Armsmaster staggered back, surprise flickering across his face.

She smirked, raising her brow.

“Still here, Armsmaster?” With a flick of her wrist, she hurled his halberd right at him like a javelin, sending him sprawling as he tried to catch his own weapon, his armor dented and crackling as the halberd impacted him on the chest.

Then Dragon’s voice came through his comms, cutting through the sounds of the crumbling Rig and the clash of metal. “Collin!”

Her voice was panicked, almost pleading. “The Simurgh is moving toward Brockton Bay!”

Armsmaster froze, every other sound dropping away. He glanced at the heroes around him, each one similarly struck silent. “What?!”

The sirens rang out across the city, their piercing wail unmistakable, bringing a chill that cut through even the adrenaline of battle.

Taylor’s eyes gleamed, and her laughter sliced through the silence like a blade. It was low, wicked, almost joyous. She took a step back, her gaze turning toward the horizon, where a faint glimmer of white appeared, growing closer, winged and silent, a great flash of silver in an otherwise dark sky.

“Yes!” Her voice carried a twisted glee. “Thank you, Queen Administrator. Tonight’s main event starts now.”

Ignoring the creeping dread in his chest, Armsmaster activated the comms, voice tight. “Everyone, fall back and regroup. New priority. Gather the wounded, get them clear. This is now a full-scale evacuation. The Simurgh is headed for Brockton Bay....”