I step out of the alley without any weapon, feels like im missing something to sling upon my shoulders, gone are the old bones, now fully developed muscles that I didn't trained for engineered in a tank to create a clone of me while they inject an Engram of my old memories, Memories I seem to struggle to remember, spotted memories of being shot in the head, that one was vivid enough

  Old habit dies hard I suppose, the yearning of a a rifle slung beneath my coat like a phantom limb missing. You never look like a threat until it's too late with a rifle hidden under your coat, its what I was taught in the army.

  They're clustered behind a delivery truck that's taken a hit to the axle. Four of them. Teenagers. No, just children. One is bleeding from the scalp, another shaking with adrenaline, one glaring at the world like it owes her something, and one… the blonde girl is smiling too much. Always a bad sign when someone is smiling too much, either too absorbed into her own reality and it blurs the line between dreaming and waking.

  And between them of course, it's not like I haven't notice. A duffel bag so full of money it can't close properly even if it tried. The zip was broken, probably from forcefully trying to force everything inside.

  Those bills were still fresh. Newly branded and wrapped in paper.

  I stop walking.

  They all freeze when they notice me.

  Good. At least they have that much sense.

  I plant my leg on the pavement and let my weight settle. My leg would ache if this were the old me,It always does. Pain is a useful reminder that I am still alive and that I survived worse than whatever mess they think they're in now. Now? All that valuable markers as a veteran is gone, New body new way to interpret danger. It is humbling to know that even at this age I will learn something new each day.

  God is merciful to allow me and my daughter to be brought back from Jannah into the living realm. For Jannah and the Rivers of Duat could not slate my boredom, my memories might be missing a little but my emotions are true, I would not take kindly to lounge and relax about in Heaven.

  This? Second chance? This is my heaven. My Jannah Darulsalem.

  "Alright," I say, voice flat. "Which one of you thought stealing from an active gang was a good idea?"

  The boy in black Grue, if I remember correctly steps half a pace forward protective of his team, a little responsible of him if I might add, reminds me of a younger Reinhard if he wasn't so boisterous all the time, This young man on the other hand just seems resigned and. exhausted. I recognize the posture immediately. He's carrying more weight than he should at his age, One simply does not carry that gait by himself. For someone so young, He's quite the talent in mixed martial arts. My eyes without the cybernetic, while inferior from before gave me a newer perspective on things, I see different things clearer.

  The boy is desperate.

  "We didn't have a choice," he says.

  I look at the bag and the rest of them. What compels a bunch of young teenagers to rob and steal, there's always an underlying problem elsewhere. If I were your average Elder I wouldn't meddle too much, but…That's not me anymore.

  "You always have a choice children," I reply. "You just didn't like the ones where you walked away empty-handed."

  The guy with the knife amd cane strutting around like a peacock, always confident and smiling like a fox,Regent tilts his head, slightly amused by what I just said, the crease of the eyes tells me he's Testing me.

  Humph..a mere child wish to test an old lady, How bold and audacious of you lad, Unfortunately I am quite aware I am no longer that old lady anymore. I can't help but frown a little at the rest of them

  The red-haired one with the dogs, calls herself Bitch of all things bristles like I've insulted her personally. Her psychological mentality is something I wish to know more about as to why a girl such as herself would consider calling herself that, Unlike the blonde one of course, Tattletale?

  She watches me the way a chess player watches a board after someone makes a very clever move, thinks she clever too and clearly enjoys it. Moira would love a protege like her and so would Mina Liao. two extremes under different perspective. They would at least enjoy molding a smug young girl like her into their specific mold of Academia.

  She knows who I am.

  Or at least what I am, I am told that powers can do such a thing, Meeting Matron Legadman and talking to Commander Jason shows me the height of metahuman ingenuity that the world, or in this case Multiverse is a very large world, anything is possible, nothing is excluded. Someone who reads minds? Or could read someone like a book shouldn't be too surprising for me. Afterall I did work with Winston. I really do hope Lena and that Monica girl find what they were looking for so we can bring the rest of the team back.

  "That was Oni Lee," Tattletale says lightly. "You helped scare him off. Thanks for that."

  I fix her with a look and gave her a flat stare. It's best not to talk to her directly.

  "Don't thank me children."

  I reach into my coat and pull out a small injector. Yellow casing. Biotic stabilizer. I toss it gently toward the injured boy. Grue catches it on reflex.

  "Use it," I say. "Now. Before shock sets in."

  He hesitates only a second before doing exactly as I told him.

  Good boy.

  Then I turn my full attention back to the group.

  "You are wounded, exhausted, carrying stolen money, and standing in territory that will be crawling with armed men in less than five minutes," I say. Calm. Precise. "If you think you've won something tonight, you're wrong."

  Bitch snarls something under her breath.

  I ignore her.

  "You," I say, pointing my cane at Regent. "You think pain is funny. That tells me you don't understand it yet."

  His smile flickers.

  "And you," I say to Tattletale, "you're already calculating how to talk your way out of this conversation and perhaps ditch me. Am I correct?"

  Her grin sharpens. "Ooh, the lady knows.Am I doing well?"

  "No," I answer immediately. " I would ask what you would do with that money, but I'm afraid it won't be anything good."

  Silence.

  I step closer to them, The streetlight catches the lines on my face, the Horus tattoo over my eye. I don't soften it. Children playing at being criminals don't need kindness. They need boundaries and perhaps a little beating.

  "You stole money from a gang that will retaliate by killing people who had nothing to do with this," I say. "I'll gotten money that came from unknown means. By the looks of it, if it came from the ABB, then it would be prostitution. Tell me children, Are willing to step so low to steal money from the blood sweat and unwilling tears of women who are forced to sell themselves in order to live?."

  Grue stiffens.

  Good. Let it sink in.

  "So here is what is going to happen," I continue. "You are going to give back the money , If you need money? My organization can provide it. Provided your cause is a valid reason, I sense that none of you are really doing this to harm people intentionally, or else why steal from the villains at all?"

  Regent laughs once. Short. Nervous "The pretty mommy does have a point, But why should we? We have the upper hand. There's four..nope, six of us if you count two extra giant dogs, I think we like our odds, isn't that right our fearless leader?"

  The boy grue nodded "Thank you for the emergency first aid Ma'am, I appreciate it. But we can't back down now. Some of us here really need that money, It's important I get that back to the boss, I have responsibilities to other people. Hope you don't take it the wrong way but we're leaving with the money"

  I look him dead in the eye.

  "Then I see" I say.

  I took out my phone and called my daughter, it took awhile, I wonder if she dealt with that terrorist bomber yet" Hello?"

  "Fareesha. You're safe? Did you deal with the Terrorist?" I asked.

  "Yeah I did, where are you mother?" she said and

  Hmm, what do I tell her? Do I tell her that I'm about to beat a bunch of kids senseless in the name of discipline? They won't understand otherwise. Violence is sometimes and often the truest way to teach and educate stubborn children.

  "One of the kids is actually injured, meet us on the way to the General Hospital. I'm just..having some brief trouble disciplining these wayward kids"

  "Okay, see you at the Hospital, I'll go chat up with Mercy first, Go easy on them mother please?" she asked worriedly. Having disciplined me herself she should know of course. But I was always careful with my daughter of course. I can't say if I could do the same to these children.

  "I can't make any promises, daughter. They have been very naughty lately" I gave her my honest reply. Hopefully that would be good enough.

  I turn off my phone and stared at each one of them. Regent was already making faces as if to mock me. Perhaps he will have extra serving.

  "Perhaps a demonstration is in order, stand down or I will take you down even if I have to do it myself." I said.

  The words land harder than shouting ever could. Regent tried to laugh but then saw the blonde girl stopped smiling. Tattletale studies me for a long moment, then exhales. "Oh?…oh! Oh fuck! She's serious, get ready!"

  "Child, it doesn't have to be this way" I confirm.

  Grue nods slowly. "We'll do it anyway. Try to stop us" and he starts spreading his power around everyone.

  Bitch looks furious but she doesn't argue and super charge her dogs "Brutus! Judas! Attack!"

  Negotiation collapses the moment they decide I'm just another obstacle. I feel it before when I was in their shoes, Back In Cairo, back when I first joined the Egyptian Military. The shift in posture, the tightening of intent to harm or to kill,

  Children stop being children when fear and pride mix. I have seen it in deserts, cities, and ruined villages. Brockton Bay is no different, the only difference is…Kids here have powers. So perhaps, their ego is a little more inflated than your average child rabble.

  I plant my foot down aside and straighten into a stance.

  I have no weapons, just my body armor and nothing more. That healing biotic was the only thing I brought for emergency, and now that's gone too, given away but I do not regret it.

  The darkness blooms first.

  Grue's power rolls over the street like a suffocating fog swallowing even sound, light and my view of the distance. I let my eyes close and slow my breathing. Vision is a luxury. Balance in everything, and remind myself of my training, those never leave you.

  Something moves to my left.

  I pivot, intercept a clumsy punch with my forearm, redirect it, step inside the guard. My elbow snaps up into a throat I barely see. The body crumples. I keep moving, odd, I did not meant to do that. One of their powers?

  Pain flares at my ankle,

  Dogs. Bitch's creations hit hard and without hesitation. I let one lunge, catch its momentum, twist, and drive my knee down into muscle and joint. It yelps and retreats. Another slams into my ribs. I roll with it, hit the pavement, come up on one knee and strike upward into its jaw with the heel of my palm.

  Too many angles, can't see. But the pathing is predictable, these kids are too young to know teamwork tactics.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  A hand brushes my sleeve. Again, a twitch and my elbow smack myself again, This isn't me. Regent. I feel the wrongness immediately. Muscles hesitate, signals misfire. I force myself forward anyway, using the movement he gives me instead of fighting it. I grab his wrist, twist sharply, dislocate. He screams but he disengages.

  The darkness thickens.

  Something cold clamps down on my spine.

  Regent again.

  My body betrays me for half a second too long…Powers truly are annoying.

  That's enough.

  I hit the ground hard. Air leaves my lungs in a sharp burst. A boot connects with my side due to poor form on my part which is strange again…so. I roll, strike blindly again and missed,, feel bone give beneath my knuckles. I push myself upright, blood in my mouth, heart steady despite everything.

  Then the ground shakes.

  Bitch's largest beast crashes into me like a truck.

  I hit a wall.

  Something cracks, maybe concrete, maybe me, my pain tolerance seems to be higher and My vision swims from that interference again. I force myself up anyway, stance sloppy now, breath ragged. I manage three more strikes before hands grab me from behind, locking my arms.

  Grue form is sold and strong,. Trained enough to be dangerous, plurally able to shift to different fighting style, I detected Karate, Aikido, Brazilian Jujitsu but he usually sticks to the good ol American boxing.

  Regent tightens his grip on my nervous system.

  My leg gives out as II got to one knee. I feel is disappointment not in them, but in myself. I underestimated how badly this city has failed its children. As the darkness closes in completely, one bitter thought settles in my mind:

  I won the war years ago.

  But here?

  Here, I lost to kids who never had a chance to learn better. The first rule of losing is that it only counts if you stay down.

  I do not.

  Pain is information. I sort through it as I force my breathing to slow, to deepen. Regent's grip on my nerves isn't absolute The boy ability seems to worsen if he's further away and. He's gotten sloppy. Overconfident. Used to people panicking when their bodies don't obey.

  I don't panic.

  I let the pain settle, then move with it. My left leg twitches when I command my right. Fine. I pivot on the wrong foot and use the imbalance as momentum, dropping my weight instead of fighting it. Regent doesn't expect me to fall forward.

  My head snaps back hard.

  Tattletale notices and shouted "Regent! She knows! Fall back!"

  His grip falters for a fraction of a second, and that fraction is all I need. I twist, wrench my arm free, and slam my elbow backward into his solar plexus. Once. Twice. The third strike is unnecessary, but satisfying. He collapses, breathless, power gone with his concentration and I take him out. Unconscious.

  The world comes back to me in pieces coming slowly as sound and sight come back slowly. Grue lunges out of the darkness.

  I step into him.

  His reach is long, his strength real, but his stance is wrong, too tense, too defensive. Boxing is supposed to be fluid and freeform. Move like a butterfly sting like a been, weaving as a boxer is an artform, a dance of precision and meticulous rhythm, He expects technique to compensate for skills but rely too much on his Powers.

  Again, Tattletale with her warnings "Grue! She's plotting something! Don't fight her in the same space as her!"

  Grue snapped back " It's martial arts! What the hell do you want me to do then?! Shoot her?! We don't have a gun!"

  The boy is not an old soldier who's been fighting in close quarters since before he was born. I catch his wrist, rotate, and drive my shoulder into his chest.

  He stumbles. I hook his ankle and sweep. He hits the ground hard, darkness flickering as his focus breaks. He tries to jab but I weave around in a Dempsey roll as he looks surprised.

  He made a mistake with a jab and I countered hard and set up devastating counters by loading up body rotation and shifting weight delivering my full weight into a proper perfect Dempsey roll. Yes..the Dempsey Roll.

  A certified full counter to the face where he least expected it, the look on the boy?

  Priceless

  . I even smiled a little as he settled into unconsciousness. Good fight. He could use some proper training.

  Light spills back in.

  Bitch is already charging, her remaining beast at her side.

  I grab a chunk of broken concrete from the ground and throw it, not at the dog, but at her face. Instinct makes her flinch. That half-second of hesitation is fatal. I close the distance, strike her collarbone, then her jaw. She goes down snarling, stunned more than injured.

  Tattletale is last.

  She doesn't attack.

  She's watching me with wide eyes, calculations collapsing in on themselves as she realizes what I am. Someone without any powers. Not even a cape and yet…

  A professional.

  "H-how did you?! W-wait wait! We can perhaps negotiate with this?I know stuff that your boss would want to know! Really! My B-"

  I don't give her time to finish thinking. One step. One strike to the side of the head. Controlled and precise, just enough to faint her.. She drops without permanent harm.

  Silence follows.

  I stand alone in the wreckage, shoulders rising and falling, blood dripping from my knuckles, not my blood. Perhaps I've overdid it a little. These kids aren't my Fareesha, they are soft. My body aches, but it answers me again with regret.

  Regent groans on the floor with his hands on his stomach. Grue stirs a little but not quite awake, the punch should have knocked him out straight, I'll give it to him, the boy has the will and tenacity to get back up after a fight, but not after a counter like that.

  The dogs whimper and try to lick their Master..or in this case, perhaps she's the Alpha. Girl doesn't think like a human, more like a canine. This girl is out cold but even when she's unconscious her teeth were showing as if she was ready to bite me.

  I exhale slowly.

  Children…the lot of them.

  I made a call to Mercy by turning my phone on again.

  "Angela dearie,, I have injured kids that need some medical attention. Would you kindly send someone to my location?"

  ………………………

  I sit on the narrow bench with my hands folded still feeling the pain a little, my back straight despite the ache crawling up my spine after that hit on the wall, but its tolerable. The siren has already died; we're coasting now, rolling into the bay with practiced urgency. Four stretchers. Four children.

  Villains, they call themselves but all I see are kids who didn't know when to stop when an unstoppable force met them for the first time, they lucky they meet me instead of a true villain that's willing to kills, but still…

  That part is on me injuring them like that.

  The doors swing open. L the choreography of a hospital workers and porters that's learned to live in crisis. I step down last as I was the one escorting them.

  And there she is.

  Angela Ziegler stands at the edge of the chaos of Medical life like a blade wrapped in silk. White coat. No longer I see that golden biotic staff she brought along with her, but she still wore her valkyrie suit underneath, I can tell of course.

  . Her eyes flick from stretcher to stretcher, already cataloging injuries, triaging without touching. Her jaw tightens a little when she notice something was amiss.

  That look is worse than any shouting.

  I stop in front of her and bow my head slightly. Old habits. Old respect.

  "I'm sorry," I say, quietly. "I misjudged the situation."

  She turns to me fully then, blue eyes sharp with restrained anger.

  "Multiple fractures," she says, voice calm in the way only doctors get when they're furious. "Concussions. Internal bruising. Ana, these are children.Um Gottes willen!"

  "I know," I answered. My throat tightens. "They were robbing from someone and refuses to relent,I acted to disable, not to kill."

  Her grip tightens on the staff.

  "You won ja," she says. "That was never in question. But winning and protecting are not the same thing Ana."

  The words land because they're true.

  Behind her, I notice a girl hovering near the nurses' station red hair, pale skin, eyes too tired for her age. She's holding a thick medical textbook to her chest like a shield, fingers white at the edges. She watches everything without judging, just call it a peculiar curiosity of the younger generation. I surmise she must be one of these capes as well. I didn't think there were capes within the medical profession. So she must be Angela's little student. Panacea.

  Angela follows my gaze and exhales, some of the tension bleeding out of her shoulders. "These injuries are repairable," she says, more to herself than to me. "But they shouldn't have happened. I would think you would show more restraint? They must be good if they are forcing you to incapacitate them like this."

  I straighten, meeting her eyes fully now.

  "I come from a war where hesitation got people buried," I say. "I forget sometimes that not every battlefield is the same."

  She studies me for a long moment. Then she nods once.

  "Help me fix them," she says. "That's how you make it right, you still remember about biotic transmutation? We have a prototype Cadeceus reactor that emulates biotic signals."

  Relief loosens something in my chest. "Yes, I could help with that"

  I move when she moves, fall into step as the stretchers roll past us into trauma rooms. I wash my hands. I take instructions without question. When Angela works, she is precise, relentless, compassionate in ways that hurt to watch.

  Panacea drifts closer as we work, silent, absorbing every word, every motion. Her eyes flick to the fractures, the swelling, the torn muscle.

  I recognize that look.

  The fear of what you can do and what people expect you to do with it. When the worst of it is over, when the undersiders are stabilized and sedated, Angela finally turns back to me.

  "This world doesn't need more soldiers," she says softly. "It needs more healer. Have you thought about what you vant to do here in this new world?"

  I nod.

  "I'm trying to remember things…For now, being there for my daughter is enough." I reply.

  She gives me a small, tired smile.

  "You should stay here. she says. "Learn and Teach. And next time… let me yell at the villains first. Your biotic applications could be a new scientific study in modern warfare for emergency nano healing deployability"

  I laughed "no Angela…I'm a soldier first and medical sniper second. My application is too niche to be deployed you know this"

  ………

  Once the kids were all healed up and resting in the ward, we moved away to the rooftop.

  She has removed her coat and draped it over a chair, sleeves rolled up, blonde hair slightly out of place. It makes her look… human. Less like the legend people whisper about and more like the woman I remember sharing coffee with between missions.

  Panacea sits nearby, cross-legged on a stool, her book open again. She pretends to read. She listens to everything.

  "How is it," I ask, keeping my voice low, "being a doctor here? Having a little protege like her?"

  Angela exhales slowly, as if she's been carrying the answer in her chest all day and gave a brief look towards Panacea and smiles.

  "Messy," she says. "Overworked and underfunded. If it weren't for Monica's investment, Brockton Bay would bleed faster than it heals." Her eyes drift toward the hallway where the injured were taken. "Gangs, capes, poverty? it all ends up here eventually."

  She leans back against the counter. I nod. I've seen cities like this before held together by willpower and routine. In a way, they were far more resilient than Cairo could ever be when the Omnics came.

  "And Panacea?" I ask, glancing toward the girl who suddenly finds her page very interesting.

  Angela's expression softens instantly.

  "That," she says carefully, "is far more complicated."

  Panacea stiffens, then relaxes when Angela reaches out and rests a hand on her shoulder. The touch is gentle. Grounding. "Sorry" she said.

  "Don't be, it's not entirely a you problem, it's your mother and the PRT and everyone who seems to want to make use of your name as Panacea.You have this power that could rewrite medicine," Angela says. "Erase disease. Undo damage we've never learned to fix." Her fingers tighten just slightly. "And you know what Ana? she's terrified of it."

  Panacea's jaw clenches. She does not look up.

  "I don't tutor her to make her stronger," Angela continues. "I tutor her so she doesn't break herself trying to meet everyone else's expectations and to allow her time to learn real medical knowledge and procedure so she doesn't rely too much on her powers."

  That hits close. I think of Fareeha. Of the weight she carries. Of the way the world never lets gifted children simply be children.

  "You're teaching her to live like an ordinary girl, but she's not ordinary. You know that," I say.

  "I'm teaching choice," Angela corrects. "There's a difference Ana, I would rather give her the choice to choose if the medical profession is something she really would like to pursue."

  Panacea finally looks up at me then. Her eyes search my face, as if measuring whether I am another person who will demand miracles from her. " I do but…Yeah its not easy studying for this"

  Mercy scoffs "Nothing is ever easy especially when it's about the medical profession, I can attest to this, there will always be a new pathogen or a new strain of virus some lunatic decided to create out there"

  I meet her gaze and incline my head. "Power without limits is a curse," I say quietly. "Anyone who tells you otherwise has never lived with one. Take heart, child, you're on the right path."

  Her shoulders loosen a fraction as Panacea even smiled a little as she got back to her book. Angela studies me, something like relief flickering across her expression.

  "And you?" she asks. "How did the talk go with Fareesha? Did you make things right with your daughter? You know, she's one of my best friends, I do hope you will stick around more these days."

  "She is…on her way here. We had ice cream. It was fun. I had fun" I said. Angela smiles then. Not the practiced one for patients but for her best friend's mother.

  "I'm glad" she said.

  "Angela," I say, quieter than before, "how is Genji these days?"

  Her hand stills. For half a second the room seems to hold its breath with her. She doesn't look at me right away. Instead, she finishes what she's doing guiding Panacea's hands, murmuring a reminder about pacing and fatigue then steps aside, giving the girl space.

  Panacea, mercifully sensing the weight of the moment, gathers her book and slips toward the doorway without a word. When we are alone, Angela finally meets my eyes.

  "That's complicated too," she says, and there's a softness there that wasn't present when we spoke about Brockton Bay.

  I lean back against the chair on the rooftop, folding my arms. I already know it won't be simple. It never is with him.

  "He's revived of course," she continues. "Very much so. Jason ensured that. New body, stabilized, functional beyond anything I could have managed back then. He doesn't need me anymore to calibrate a cyborg body. He has a new body."

  Relief washes through me before I can stop it. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. I was never that close to Genji but I knew he takes great care of Angela. Fareesha told me of course. That boy is smitten with her. But Fareesha often complains how slow their relationship tend to progress. When an introverted Japanese man meets a very extroverted German girl, you think that things would progress faster, no? It seems that everytime they met its the other way round.

  "And?"

  Angela's lips curve faintly, but there's sadness behind it.

  "And he's still the same Genji, still the same person who struggles with any world trying to fit in," she says. "Different rules. Different scale of suffering. No Omnic Crisis. No clear enemy. Just… well, he's still the same confused man inside regardless where he is."

  That's Genji for you. Maybe even Angela as well. The both of them are so dense. When I was with Sam, it was easy. We just pounce on each other and the rest is history. Fareesha was born. These young uns keep relationships so complicated for no reason. It baffles me.

  "And you?" I ask. "Where do you stand with him?"

  She hesitates this time. Truly hesitates.

  "I care for him," Angela says at last. "Deeply. I always have." Her fingers curl together in front of her. "But I am not his anchor. Not anymore. He's finding his own balance," she adds quickly. "Meditation. Training. Helping his brother Hanzo with..gang related thing? I'm not so sure about that one. But he does help with discipline drills for the soldiers at Jason's base.."

  I raise an eyebrow. " So…everything seems quite good to me?"

  Angela smiles despite herself. "I guess so."

  I can imagine. Jason collects people the way Overwatch once did: broken, gifted, dangerous. Not to mention he can just build his own private army. The man reminds me of a self contained Omnics if an Omnics knew to not self propagate endlessly and only do it in moderation. With all the machines he created, he could take over this country easily if he wanted to.

  "Does that boy Genji… know you're here?" I ask.

  "Yes, of course!" she says. "He asked about you yesterday."

  That surprises me. "What for? What did you tell him?" I asked.

  Angela's expression warms. "That you're still exactly who you've always been. That you fight when you must. That you umm..didnt try to run atleast, since Fareesha was revived together."

  I huff a quiet laugh. "You make me sound much better than I am Angela."

  "No," she says gently. "I make you sound honest, Fareesha would be heartbroken if you weren't here in her life anymore"

  "If he wants to see me," Angela say, "he knows where to find me, we would always have tea late night up here staring at the stars and-"

  Suddenly something landed on the rooftop.

  Its Genji…injured no, not entirely injured..just really burnt and singed to a crisp. What happened to him?

  "A-angela…I need healing"

  "Genji!!" Mercy panicked.

  **********************

  A/N

  yeah got nothing to say except uhh, I notice some people donated to my patreon? Thank you very much. I shall keep posting frequently like this then. I'm still not that familiar with the patreon thing but I shall continue to post daily like this as long as my health holds up.