W Scion

> > Instead, I watched as Scion’s partner came to life.  There was only one growth at first, like a stem, a human-sized body, pure white.

> > The rest bloomed forth beneath it.  A garden of body parts, hands, stretches of flesh, a maze of parts, all interconnected, all flowing from the piece in the center.  All of it alive, this time.  The garden, as Golem had said.

> > Hands turned to gesture, and flames rose from fingertips.

> > A moment later, ice.  Experimenting, testing powers.

> > Then it spoke.  A soft voice that somehow seemed familiar.

> > Scion’s companion had been gray, this one was white.  This wasn’t it.

> > A third entity?

> > I stared, my blood running cold.

> > Scion tried to float down to it, fighting almost tooth and nail with the Endbringers to get to his new companion.  Even in the midst of the fighting, the mood was entirely different.  The rage had given way, gone.  I could sense shock, bewilderment…

> > He reached out, almost as if he were afraid to touch it.  To touch her.

> > Where had it come from?  I used the clairvoyant, tracing it back to the origin point-

> > I realized it at the same moment Scion did.  Our emotions at our simultaneous realizations couldn’t have been more different.

> > [...]

> > It wasn’t an epithet.  The third entity was Bastard, the wolf cub.  Grown large by the bizarre interaction of Lab Rat’s formula and then cosmetically altered by Panacea, given a handful of special effects.  No doubt coordinated by Tattletale.

> > Scion’s mad sorrow was so thick on the air I could almost taste it.

> Speck 30.5

> > This wasn’t an attack on his body.

> > I was going after his mind, his emotions.

> > If the feelings were still raw after thirty years, if he hadn’t learned how to handle it, then I’d target that as his weak point.

> > [...]

> > Remind him of what he didn’t have.  His partner, his… life cycle.

> > [...]

> > The projections began to haunt him.  They emerged from walls or crept around corners.  Images of his deceased, slain partner.  Images of others, which almost seemed to bother him more.

> > If he was forming any kind of tolerance, it was slow.  He wasn’t getting a chance to breathe.

> > Scion was striking down these constructions faster than I could raise them.

> > Up until the moment the man in gold and black armor shot his sword at him.  It bought time to put more of these illusions and constructions in place.

> > Scion righted himself, then hesitated.

> > Fury was giving way to a kind of fear.

> > I knew this fear well.  It was a fear that was all too easy to fall into when one’s focus was too narrow.  To be caught up in an environment, facing down a relentless torrent of negative experiences.  Even the minor things added up, if you couldn’t step back to look at things in perspective.

> > He fought back.  That was a fairly normal thing.  A lot of people fought back when they faced something like this.  A lot of people liked to think they could fight back up until it stopped.

> Speck 30.6