3.12

Tattletale dangles Panacea’s deepest secret like a lure, a whispered truth about her parentage that could shatter her world. “It’s not the man,” she explains, her voice laced with knowing cruelty, “It’s the knowing.” The constant, gnawing doubt, the fear of an inherited darkness, a lifetime spent measuring herself against a ghost.

Glory Girl, ever the shield for her sister, refuses the bait. A vault for silence, a tempting trade, but she calls Tattletale’s bluff. Yet, the threat is aimed not at her, but at Panacea, the promise of “humiliation, shame, heartbreak.”

Panacea, breaking free, sparks a brutal brawl. Glory Girl slams Tattletale into a wall, a desperate move to silence the truth-teller. A baton strike brings Panacea down, but Glory Girl unleashes her full, terrifying power. A threat of the Birdcage, a prison for the worst of the worst, hangs heavy in the air.

“Bugs,” Tattletale gasps, a desperate plea. A swarm is unleashed, but Glory Girl’s invincibility is a frustrating barrier. Tattletale, injured but defiant, reveals the chink in the armor: a forcefield, not true invincibility, that flickers under impact. A gunshot pierces the room, a deafening roar, and Glory Girl falls, the swarm finally finding purchase.

A hasty retreat ensues, a dislocated shoulder a painful souvenir. Outside, the battle rages on, Aegis the last Ward standing against the monstrous dogs and Regent’s makeshift weaponry. Grue’s darkness cloaks their escape, a terrifying, disorienting flight atop the monstrous Angelica.

Despite the chaos, a strange elation surges. They’ve done it, escaped relatively unscathed, the only real casualties being the Wards and their own adversaries, Panacea and Glory Girl, whose injuries will undoubtedly be healed. Property damage is minimal, enemies made, perhaps, but unavoidable.

Grue’s darkness becomes a strategic maze, Aegis’s aerial view rendered useless. A planned switch to civilian clothes, a tense wait in the suffocating darkness, and then a return to a rain-soaked city, the sounds of sirens a distant symphony.

Two girls, arm in arm, their dog trotting beside them, melt into the crowd, the picture of innocence amidst the chaos they’ve orchestrated. A good day, a very good day, where victory is measured not just in escape, but in the delicate dance of controlled chaos, a secret held, and a family, however fractured, preserved.