“When I walked into the building that day, I never expected to become involved in anything more dangerous than a lab accident. I was… two months out of the hospital, and a few - I think two or three - weeks into my time as a cape. I didn’t have a good grasp on my powers, or responsibilities, at the time. Lots of… novice mistakes, let’s say. Power incontinence, too. Usually came to me, instead of the other way around. More stable now - mostly headaches and sensory overload.”

“She entered through the front door. The security office didn’t see - or maybe they did, and died - but I did. Assumed direct control, saw Dragoon starting to head up the stairs. Pulled the alarm, then sent out a call to as many capes as possible. Official Guardian forums, trending hashtags, logged-in social media accounts, whatever was available in the building, I used. At the same time, did my best to make sure the robots opposing her didn’t obstruct evacuation routes, organized escape procedure with my insects, so on so forth. Lots died. More didn’t.”

“Everyone out. Except me, Dragoon, and the boss: Warren Vargas. Might also know him as the Guardian, “Thinker”. People don’t call him that a lot anymore; he revealed his identity a while back. A real modern-Da Vinci-type, he was. And not a terrible boss, as far as bosses go. Just pedantic and, I guess… weird? Neurotic? Paranoid, maybe? Something like that - a very fussy man. I suppose he was onto something, though. What with Dragoon, and all.”

“But he was smart, not tough. Yet he hadn’t left the building, or called for help. Thought that was suspicious. Sent some bugs to his office, and the first thing I see is him just… typing and clicking away. It’s like he was on some kind of deadline. Never mind the divine juggernaut taking out security drones left and right. I suppose I understand why, now. Anyway, I got his attention by forming a conspicuous, little, buzzing mass, and… This guy... The guy doesn’t even look up from the screen. He just says: ‘hold her off’, in the straightest, flattest voice possible.”

“Mmm. I’m not sure he knew who he was talking to, either. I hadn’t been active for a month, and my power was - is still - far from maturity. But here was a hero who’d been active longer than I’d lived, telling me to go hold off Dragoon. And I did. Or, tried to, at least. I thought the great Thinker had some master plan, or secret weapon, in store. He didn’t, but I managed well enough on my own.”

“The fight… It was terrifying. But also unlike anything I’d ever done. No tainting judicial procedure. No hologram training. Just five minutes. One on one. Worm on wyrm. Couldn’t call it a real fight, though. Had to play dirty, or I’d be dead. Lots of decoys, lots of distractions, lots of bugs. Strength, speed, divine armament - nothing in her arsenal had too much compatibility against me... Err, bugs. Not me. I’m not the swarm, even if I’m Swarm. Wasn’t enough, anyway. My power proved problematic, yes, but it went the other way, too. Lots of bug bites, but nothing major. Too scared to use bees. Or brown recluses. Or widows. Probably could've avoided a lot of trouble. Also, would have been in more trouble. At any rate, couldn’t penetrate her armor personally, and, in the first place, only got close enough twice."

"No, definitely not a real fight. Just an insect making a nuisance of itself, trying not to get crushed.”

“Failed to defeat her myself, sure. But the objective was completed, to an extent. Reinforcements came. Victory, however pyrrhic, came after. Dragoon’s hero-killer reputation was well-deserved. About a dozen dead capes, and one left heavily wounded. Loss of limb, exposed innards, nth degree burns. Not Dragoon’s fault, ironically. Thinker, Mr. Vargas, died too. Don’t how - I had bugs on Dragoon at all times - but he was definitely not breathing, nor was the heart beating. Checked the body myself. Also, checked his laptop. He’d left a webcam recording - a last will. It told me about this project of his. Details. Restrictions. Background. Guardian project, obviously, except halfway through he went off script. Made his own adjustments. At the end, he begged not to delete it, or leave it on the shelf forever. Wanted it tested, used for the betterment of Halcyon.”

“The project itself… It was a sapient AI. Part-administrative assistant, part-simulator, from my understanding. Has a lot of restrictions on it - no AI singularities here, thank you. My theory? Obtaining that was Dragoon’s real goal. Explained why she didn’t care about preserving the projects on the floor. The ones that got destroyed, or covered in rubble, or set on fire, or whatever. Including the one I... Err, Hana-the-intern, was helping with. I kept it, by the by. The AI, not the spoiled fruits of m... Hana's, labour, I mean. At the time, figured I could only trust myself... Kh. Sounds so edgy when I say it like that.”

“Anyway. We - the six survivors - ended up forming a team. So, I brought it during meet two. A show of faith. And, I guess, a way to figure out what I should do with it. We spent... a few hours talking about it. Lots of opinions. Lots of bad sci-fi tropes. In the end, we called it ‘Sai', and left it with me.”