Panacea describes Taylor

Taylor’s body was strange, peculiar, and downright fascinating.

It wasn’t that it was inhuman. She had all the right number of bones, her musculature was not in any way altered, and it wasn’t like she had extra organs or anything. She didn’t have a third eye or a tail or anything like that. No, everything was in its proper place, and Taylor had exactly as many parts as she was supposed to and no more.

What made her fascinating was in how those parts were structured. Her bones were sturdier than they had any right to be, her muscles were denser and stronger than any athlete Amy had ever had the pleasure of examining, her blood and her cardiovascular system were more resilient and more efficient than should be humanly possible, and her nerves…the speed at which her neurons fired, the rapidity with which impulses traveled from her brain, down her spinal cord, and into her limbs was just…

If a normal human being was a machine working to the tune of The Rolling Stones’ Rock ‘n Roll, Taylor’s body was a Classical symphony written by Beethoven.

It was possible to explain all of that if Taylor was a parahuman with a Brute power (and she was, indeed, a parahuman, because Amy could see the well-formed and active Corona Pollentia and Corona Gemma), and in terms of biology acting in ways it wasn’t supposed to, Aegis of the Wards still had her beat for sheer oddity.

But only because his power let him adapt and do things like breathe through his skin or hear through his fingernails. In other ways, Taylor was stranger still, because with a body structure like hers, her muscle definition should rival an Amazon and her metabolism should have her going through almost four times as many calories as a normal human — and yet, neither of those was true.

How? Amy didn’t have an answer, right then. But it might have something to do with the strangest part of Taylor’s body.

Because the strangest part? The strangest part, the part that was both fascinating and frustrating, was what Amy couldn’t see. There were parts in Taylor’s biology that were just…not missing, exactly, but invisible. They were like black holes; Amy could only see them, could only tell where they were, by their connection to the surrounding tissues. Otherwise, they were just blank spaces thrown randomly around Taylor’s body. Whatever was actually in those blank spaces, Amy could only guess based upon where they were and what was around them.

Amy had never seen anything like it, before. Of all the countless people she had touched and healed, of all the maladies and diseases she had cured, of all the subtle differences in everything from genetic structure to calcium content to some truly bizarre allergies, Amy had never before touched someone whose body wasn’t like an open book.