Isaac's awareness slammed back into his body with the familiar jolt of transference re-sync.
"…think we should poke him or something?" He heard one of the boys say.
He opened his eyes to find the cafeteria exactly where he left it. Noise, motion, bad food. The two boys from his class were hovering over him like badly trained medics.
"Isaac?" the shorter one said, waving a hand in front of his face. "Dude, you good?"
He straightened slowly, letting his limbs feel heavy for effect. "Yeah. Sorry. Told you—narcolepsy. Comes and goes."
Both of them relaxed at once.
"Man, that's freaky," the taller one muttered. "You were out. Like out-out."
Isaac rubbed at his eyes. "I'm used to it. Thanks for not drawing too much attention."
"Yeah, no problem," shorter one said. "Didn't want E88 over there deciding you were an easy target like that." He jerked his chin toward the skinhead table.
He reached for his fork again like nothing had happened and took another bite of his now lukewarm food.
In his head, Ordis spoke, voice low and tight with barely contained curiosity. "Operator, the anomaly—"
"Was Taylor," Isaac answered. "Looks like she ran into her bullies while in the restroom."
There was a surprised sound from Ordis.
"Taylor Hebert?" Ordis asked, as if there were multiple Taylors he was tracking. "The same Miss Hebert you spoke to in Computer Studies? Did she trigger just now?"
"No," the Operator replied, keeping his expression neutral while the boys beside him resumed their conversation about some cape fight in downtown last month.This time he paid close attention because it sounded fun. "At least it didn't seem like it. Her control was too good. She moved that swarm of insects like they were her own hand, so it's clear that she's been practicing. Run a search. Find out which cape she is."
He speared another fry, chewing slowly while Ordis hummed in thought.
"Understood Operator," Ordi's affirmed.
Isaac speared another fry, chewing slowly to avoid jumping back into another verbal conversation while Ordis did his research.
"Running a cross-reference now…" Ordis voice took on a lilt of concentration even though the effort was likely miniscule for him. "Female, Brockton Bay, approximate age, insect control."
The Operator continued to wait patiently, giving a little chuckle when a joke was cracked by one of the guys.
"I'm sorry Operator, I'm getting nothing." Ordi apologized, his voice surprised. "It would seem there are no recorded heroes or villains matching Miss Hebert's power profile and physical description in Brockton Bay or neighboring regions. There is one retired cape in Miami with insect-linked surveillance powers, but she is in her late forties and very much not Taylor."
"So she hasn't debuted," the Operator thought with excitement. "Perfect."
"Perfect for what, Operator?" Ordis asked, though he already suspected the answer.
"Echo Zero," he replied casually. The Tenno hadn't told Ordis much of the idea due to not having figured it all out himself but the cephalon knew the broad strokes of the plan. "If she passes my assessment. Power's useful, control's already solid, and she hasn't killed those girls despite every opportunity and more than enough motive. That takes restraint. Self-control. Or something else I need to understand."
"And what will this assessment entail?" Ordis asked enthusiastically, eager to hear more of the plan and what role he could be playing in it. "Should I begin compiling a psychological profile, medical history, scholastic record, estimated trauma index—?"
"Keep it non-invasive," the Operator cut in before his friend got too excited. "Basic data only. I want the important parts from her directly. I don't want to walk in with a dozen preconceived notions and I certainly don't want to spook her by knowing something I shouldn't."
There was a small pause as Ordis sighed in disappointment. He didn't think something so basic was beneath him, nothing that served the Operator could be. But doing such mundane tasks when his reach was far greater did bore him.
"As you wish, Operator," he replied. "I'll limit myself to a surface-level report.'"
"Thanks," he thought back.
Isaac's attention snapped back outward as one of the boys nudged him again. The lunch period was over. It was time for Art.
His two not-quite-friends stuck close for the next class, filling dead air with commentary about capes and which ones were "cool" versus "try-hard."
The Operator, being well versed in the great and noble Tenno art of fashion, chimed in and corrected their horrible taste in costumes by imposing his much greater and superior ideals on them. The teacher only had to call them out once.
He still didn't know their names.
At this point, it felt too awkward to ask. He'd just have to catch it from someone else later because these two only seemed to address each other as "bro" and even the teacher had just called them "you boys." Ordis could dig it up in under a second, but it felt wrong to learn that way when they were trying to be genuine.
With Art over they three had to go their separate ways. One boy peeled off toward shop, the other toward gym. Isaac headed to Math, alone this time. With no one trying to socialize with him and with no one to slow down for, Isaac completed his assignment faster than anyone else in the room, then spent the rest of the period watching the class dynamics and spying on the other classes in void mode.
Gangs. Cliques. Popular kids. Where they hung out. Who liked or disliked who. All of it. There was one person he hadn't seen though.
"Where Tayor?" he asked Ordi's as kids shuffled seats around him for group work. He was still pretending to be asleep so no one had bothered him and the teacher didn't care.
"Miss Hebert left the building after lunch period, Operator," Ordis answered.
The Operator thought of what to do for a moment. He should leave her be. But with her being a new prospect for Echo Zero and the fact she was living in a city like Brockton, he felt it best to have some assurance that she wouldn't meet any unpleasant fate when he wasn't looking. It felt especially prudent to do it now after the bullies had gotten the jump on her in the restroom.
"Ordi's, add her to a new subsection of priority observation targets." the Operator ordered. "Label it Echo Zero."
"Yes Operator, I assume you wish for more passive observation to respect Ms Hebert's privacy?"
The Tenno gave a non-verbal mental agreement to the cephalon's words.
"Excellent, I'll deploy Shade. I'm sure It'll be thrilled to have something to do again," Ordis said cheerfully. "
"Good choice," the Operator thought. If anything potentially life threatening happened then Shade could handle some street thugs and even the average Parahuman. "Just make sure it knows we don't want it sneaking into her house for us."
"Shade is under strict instructions to maintain distance and only report to me if she is in immediate danger."
"Thanks Ordis."
By the time the final bell rang, he'd sat through enough classes, listened to enough whispered gossip, met the infamous trio of bullies in passing and watched enough petty power games in their lackeys to assemble a decent first impression of Winslow's hierarchy.
Like he initially thought. It was bad. But it certainly wasn't anything, a bit of violence, money, and political maneuvering wouldn't be able to fix. His first step to the top would have to wait until tomorrow though, school was over.
Isaac stepped out into the front school with the rest of the tide of students, hands in his pockets, bag slung over one shoulder as Umbra pulled up in the car and rolled to a smooth stop at the curb.
"Operator," Ordis warned quietly, "one of the E88 members from lunch is approaching from your three o'clock. And he is not alone."
Nevermind, it seemed he would be taking that step today.
Isaac didn't change his pace. He kept walking toward the car, eyes half-lidded in focus, tracking the reflections in the windows instead of turning his head.
Four of them. The one who'd thrown the water bottle led, face twisted into a too-wide grin. Another flanked him, slightly taller, with shaved sides and a half-faded swastika inked on his neck. Two more hung back a little, scanning the crowd.
The crowd, as expected of Broktonites, began to notice.
Conversations dampened. Students angled their trajectories to give the forming circle space without looking like that's what they were doing. A few phones came out, screens tilted just so as the E88 boys drifted closer.
By the time Isaac reached the curb, they'd shifted enough to box him in—one to his front-left, one to his right, two sliding behind him with all the subtlety of a Grineer maniac.
Umbra saw it and immediately the car door opened before Isaac could reach for it. The man stepped out in one smooth motion—tall, broad-shouldered, dark suit hanging perfectly, tinted glasses hiding his eyes. Up close, the lines of his face were harsh and cold enough to make most adults think twice. To teenage gang wannabes, he might as well have been Alexandria.
His head turned toward the gathering students and the four boys closing in.
The air around the car went tight and an almost growl came from Umbra's throat.
The lead E88 kid's grin flickered and died as Umbra started forward with intent written in every line of his body.
Isaac stepped in before things could escalate.
"Dad," he called, just loud enough for the recording cameras to pick up.
Umbra stopped immediately and murmurs started spreading out. No doubt rumors would spread fast that Umbra was his rich over protective father or something of the sort. This was not the plan though. A school like Winslow wouldn't respect him if they thought he was some baby that was behind his dads money. It was part of why no one in the school genuinely liked the "Queen Bitches."
Isaac turned just enough to meet Umbra's gaze though the shade and gave the slightest shake of his head.
"I've got this," he added, tone casual, almost cocky. "It'll be fine."
Umbra held his stare for a heartbeat, anger radiating off him like a heat wave. Then, slowly, he stepped back to the car and leaned against the hood, arms folding across his chest.
Watching.
Maybe it was the cocky way Isaac dismissed them as threats or the fact that Umbra had backed down but ego and pride reared it ugly head. Despite the shaking from just Umbra's presence, the E88 leader straightened, confidence worming back into his posture.
"So that's your old man, huh?" he said, turning his attention fully on Isaac now that the bigger problem had stepped out of the way. "He made the right choice. You don't wanna fuck with the Empire."
The circle tightened another notch. The crowd thickened at the edges, a ring of faces pretending not to be staring or just interested in recording the drama.
"Dude, this is bad," one of Isaac's not-quite-friends muttered in the increasingly larger crowd. He didn't look, but Ordis kindly augmented his sight by highlighting them and every other E88 member or sympathiser in the crowd.
One stayed. The other was already slipping out, no doubt heading for a teacher—or at least away from whatever this was turning into.
He could hear snippets of whispers.
"Isn't that the kid from the cafeteria?"
"Should we call the cops?"
"No, man, they'll just bail. It'll be over before anyone gets here."
The lead E88 kid stepped into Isaac's personal space, wearing the kind of bravado he'd seen on Corpus crewmen that didn't buy into the horror stories of what a Tenno could do to them and everyone else on the vessel if they were unlucky enough to have something of importance on it.
"C'mon, crowds getting big," he said, reaching out, tone fake-friendly. "Let's take a walk. Talk in private."
He never got the chance to make contact.
Isaac, having enough of this farce, moved.
The skinhead never saw the punch coming. It rocked the gangster hard. The kid's eyes rolled back as he dropped backward like someone had unplugged him. He would've been hitting the asphalt in an ungraceful heap if not for Isaac holding him up by his shirt.
Silence hit the immediate circle like a slap as people barely processed the fight had started.
"What the—" The kid to his left processed his friend was now unconscious faster than the rest.
Isaac didn't let him finish. With a twist of his hips and a shift of weight, he spun the leader around like he was weightless and threw, using him like a human bowling ball.
The ring leader bowled into the one at his flank, sending all them to the ground hard and sprawling. Another staggered sideways into the watching crowd, who recoiled like a wave.
The other two wasted no time anymore and started attacking. Both came at Isaac one with both fists up and the other going in for a grapple.
The Operator slipped beneath the first punch, pivoted around the grapple, and let the clumsy momentum carry the boy past him and nearly into the friend who got out from under their unconscious leader. Another jab from the boxers was figured and the Operator counter attacked with a guy luck that put the boy in his knees, struggling to breath though the pain. One last kick to the back and the kid kissed concrete before he knew what hit him.
"Holy shit," someone in the crowd breathed in awe. And like an infection, almost indiscernible cheering and jeering started filling the circle.
More E88 guys—ones who'd been hanging back at the edges of the crowd—started forward, anger and pride swamping whatever caution Umbra's presence had inspired. Two more peeled away from a nearby car, one with brass knuckles, the other with something that looked suspiciously like a knife hilt tucked into his waistband.
"Operator," Ordis warned, "we are approaching escalation to 'stupid' levels."
"I noticed," Isaac thought back, shifting his stance. Hopefully a teacher came soon because even for him, fighting in a ring like this would be disadvantageous unless he started breaking bones.
He finally let his bag slide off his shoulder, dropping it next to the car with a soft thud.
The next attacker with brass knuckles came in fast but controlled. This one seemed to be another boxer from the looks of it. Isaac stepped into the strike, one forearm deflecting the punch while his other hand snapped up to grab the boy's wrist. A head butt to daze him, followed by a horse kick to someone trying to sneak an attack in from behind. Isaac pulled brass knuckles forward as he fell backwards, bringing them both to the ground so the Operator could plant his feelings on his chest and kick him off into a group of his fellow gang members.
The new members who joined in tried to take advantage of him being on the ground but he simply spun using the power in his arms and knocked the bunch of their feet before getting back up and kicking in some faces to keep them down.
The one with the knife from earlier was smarter. He hesitated, put the knife back in and walked away.
"Enough," a new voice cut in drawing attention.
The Operator recognized her immediately. Sophia Hess, codename Shadow Stalker, stepped through the outer ring like it wasn't there, the crowd parting for her without conscious thought. She was still in civies but her posture and demeanor was dangerous, screaming out the promise of violence.
"So the hero has finally decided to join," he thought dryly. "What's her plan though?"
She sized up the scene in a heartbeat. Isaac. Umbra. The groaning and unconscious E88 kids. Teachers still nowhere in sight.
Then she smiled.
It wasn't a nice expression.
"Hey, skinheads," she called to the boys gearing themselves up to rush Isaac. "You didn't seriously think you were gonna jump someone in front of half the school and get away with it did you?"
"Stay out of this, Hess," one of them snapped, trying to sound tough by adding a growl to his voice. "This doesn't concern a monkey like you."
Chatter went dead as the crowd held their breath. It was language expected of their gang but people still went quiet. Looking at Sophia for her reaction and as expected she was pissed was off.
"Wrong answer," she said with a dark glare that promised bodily harm.
She closed the distance in three long strides, he punched first and she dodged and made him pay by driving her fist into his face. Cartilage crushed as his nose broke.
The kid reeled, stumbling while holding his nose as blood leaked out of it. Another lunged at her. She dipped under his swing, shoulder-checking him in the ribs hard enough to send him crashing into the guy behind him. They nearly went down in a tangle of limbs but bumped into one of the Asian groups in the crowd. The Asians pushed back and the two E88 kids got back into the fight. Naturally, the two racist got annoyed but this time their target wasn't Hess or Isaac.
And just like that a dam broke, more E88 kids swarmed in, drawn by stupidity and pride. Others—students who'd had enough of being stepped on, or just wanted an excuse to hit a racist with plausible deniability—surged in too.
In seconds, the front of the school was an all out brawl. Isaac was sure that some of these people had started accidently attacking their own friends.
With so much going on, Isaac had to move without thinking or he the sheer number of his opponents would already have overwhelmed him.
He kept his strikes tight, efficient. No wasted motion. No showy finishes. Every step repositioned him, every dodge set up the next counter.
To anyone watching closely, it looked wrong on a high school student. Too smooth. Too practiced. But most weren't looking closely. They were too busy trying not to get punched.
But even through the thoughtless movements, he paid close attention to Sophia. The girl fought like someone who wanted to hurt people.
She ducked a swing, drove her fist into a kidney, then brought her knee up between another boy's legs without hesitation. When one tried to grab her from behind, she twisted, hooked his arm, and sent him flying over her hip into the concrete where he was nearly trampled. .
"Operator," Ordis said, voice tight with worry. "I believe it is almost time to wrap this little rough housing session up before these kids get hurt more. Umbra is barely holding himself back from launching in to protect you. And between you and I Operator, I do not believe now to be a good time or place to test how many patients he has left."
"Noted," Isaac thought, slipping past a flailing elbow and shoving its owner gently into another E88 boy who'd been trying to circle behind Sophia. They collided, went down together and started punching each other.
All around them, the fight roared and the Operator was begging to what in Void was taking these teachers so long to break this up.
A kid who'd never thrown a punch in his life swung on an E88 boy and got rewarded with a bloody nose and a proud grin anyway. Another tried to pull his friend out of the mess and got dragged in himself. Phones kept recording, voices kept shouting—cheering, swearing, panicking, all at once.
Someone finally screamed, "Teachers!" loud enough to cut through the noise.
"Break it up! Break it up right now!" a teacher he hadn't met bellowed.
Naturally, some still too into the fight ignored them.
The teacher grabbed at shoulders—some trying to restrain, others having to nearly fight the kids before the student realized who they were trying to swing on. A whistle shrieked from somewhere. Another teacher started yelling names.
By this point, those who weren't getting grabbed by teachers or had been let go off started booking it down the street
Isaac stepped back from the nearest cluster, breathing steady, shirt barely rumpled.
He saw Sophia taking one last cheap shot at a retreating E88 kid's ribs before letting herself be separated, expression hateful.
Several E88 boys, a few merchants, and the ABB, lay on the asphalt, groaning or clutching various bruised parts of themselves. None were seriously injured. A couple might limp for a day or two.
"Operator," Ordis said, sounding pleased despite himself, "I have successfully recorded the entire incident from seven different angles. I am also pleased to report that you did not break anyone."
"Directly maybe," Isaac mumbled to himself as he glanced over at Umbra.
His "father" still leaned against the car, arms crossed, but he was calmer now. His head turned just enough to meet Isaac's gaze before nodding towards the car.
Isaac gave the smallest of nods.
It was time to leave.
"Isaac!" one of the boys from earlier hissed, appearing at his elbow. "Dude, what the hell was that? You destroyed them!"
Isaac rolled one shoulder, feigning mild discomfort. "Got lucky," he said. "They're amateurs at fighting."
"That's not luck bro," the other boy insisted, eyes still wide. "That was… that was some Batman-level shit."
Before he could answer, a teacher's voice snapped out.
"You, you, you—and you," she said, pointing at Isaac, his friends, Sophia, one E88 boy who was still conscious, and a random kid with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles who'd been a little too enthusiastic about joining in right. "Inside. Now!"
Isaac sighed internally.
So much for leaving.
___________
If thi chapter ooks bad, ill fix i tomorrow . its almost 2 in morning