The fog was unrelenting, a thick, heavy shroud that muffled sound and obscured vision. Every street in Brockton Bay seemed eerily quiet, as though the city were holding its breath. Rose tightened her cloak around her shoulders, the chill of the night air sinking into her skin. Her footsteps were cautious, her wand held close.
Beside her, Glaistig Uaine moved like a ghost, her green cloak blending into the swirling mist. She seemed unbothered by the cold, her glowing green eyes cutting through the fog like twin beacons. Despite the earlier encounter with the thug, she was as calm and unruffled as ever. Rose couldn't help but feel frustrated at her companion's nonchalance.
"Little sorceress," Glaistig said softly, her voice carrying an almost musical lilt, "do you feel it? The threads of this city quiver. So many players on the stage, so many paths intertwined."
Rose sighed. "I feel cold and tired, and we need to find somewhere to stay. Preferably somewhere dry and warm."
Glaistig tilted her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Shelter is fleeting, like all things. But if it will soothe you, we shall seek it."
Rose resisted the urge to snap at her. The Fairy Queen's cryptic remarks were grating on her nerves. She focused instead on their surroundings, scanning for any sign of a suitable place to rest. The fog made it difficult to tell which buildings were abandoned and which were still in use, but eventually, she spotted a small structure with boarded-up windows and a faded sign above the door. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.
---
The interior of the building was as unwelcoming as its exterior. Dust coated every surface, and the air was damp and stale. Rose wrinkled her nose but quickly set to work. With a few flicks of her wand, the dust disappeared, the air warmed, and the space took on a faint, golden glow.
"This will do for now," Rose said, conjuring a blanket and draping it over a battered couch. She sat down heavily, her wand resting in her lap. "At least it's better than being out in the fog."
Glaistig wandered the room, her gaze sweeping over the walls as though she could see things Rose could not. "This city is a tapestry unraveling," she murmured. "Its threads are frayed, its weavers blind to their craft."
Rose sighed, leaning back against the couch. "You keep talking about threads. I just see a city in trouble. People struggling to get by."
"Ah, little sorceress," Glaistig said with a soft chuckle. "You see the surface, but the threads are there, binding all things. Shall we not pull them, to see what unravels?"
"No," Rose said firmly. "We're not here to make things worse."
Glaistig smiled faintly. "And yet, chaos may bring clarity. Shall we not play this game, you and I?"
"It's not a game," Rose said, her voice tight. "People's lives are at stake."
"Lives are but threads, dear sorceress. All must be woven, all must be cut."
Rose closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She was too tired to argue, and she doubted Glaistig would listen even if she tried. For now, they needed rest.
---
Across the city, in the sterile confines of a PRT command center, Armsmaster stood before a holographic display. The footage from Dragon's drones played on a loop, showing Glaistig Uaine and her enigmatic companion moving through the fog-covered streets.
"We need a designation for the companion," Armsmaster said, his voice clipped. "We can't keep referring to her as 'unknown.'"
Dragon's calm, measured voice came through the speakers. "Given her abilities and appearance, I suggest we use the placeholder 'Sorceress' for now."
Armsmaster frowned, his eyes narrowing at the screen. "The energy her abilities use don't align with any known parahuman powers. It's something entirely different."
"Magic," Dragon said simply.
Armsmaster's frown deepened. "You can't seriously believe—"
"I don't believe," Dragon interrupted. "But the evidence doesn't conform to parahuman mechanics. Until we have more data, calling it magic is as accurate as anything else."
Armsmaster exhaled sharply, turning away from the display. "And what about containment? Any new ideas?"
"None that will work," Dragon admitted. "Even with updated protocols, Glaistig Uaine's power is beyond conventional measures. If she escalates, our options are limited."
Armsmaster's jaw tightened. "Then we monitor and prepare. For now."
---
In another part of the city, Lung sat in his lair, the dimly lit room filled with the scent of smoke and incense. The video playing on his phone showed Glaistig Uaine, her green eyes glowing like eerie flames in the fog, and the girl beside her casting spells that defied explanation.
"She dares to enter my domain," Lung growled, his voice low and dangerous. "The Fairy Queen thinks she can claim what is mine."
His lieutenants stood silently, their eyes downcast. Lung's temper was as fearsome as his transformation, and none dared to speak. They could feel the heat rising in the room, the faint shimmer of scales beginning to form on his skin.
"Prepare the men," Lung commanded, his voice like a thunderclap. "We will show her the price of trespass."
---
Back in the abandoned building, Rose sat cross-legged on the floor, studying a glowing map she had conjured. It showed the city in intricate detail, with faint golden points marking areas of interest. Glaistig watched her from across the room, her expression unreadable.
"You work so hard, little sorceress," Glaistig said softly. "What do you hope to find?"
"Answers," Rose replied without looking up. "We need to understand this city. Who's in charge, what's going on. We can't just blunder around blind."
Glaistig tilted her head, her faint smile growing. "And yet, chaos reveals so much. Shall we not pull the threads and see what unravels?"
"No," Rose said firmly. "We're not here to make things worse."
"And yet, we shall," Glaistig said, stepping closer. "It is inevitable, little sorceress. The threads demand it."
Rose didn't respond. She was determined to find a way to navigate this city without adding to its troubles. But as she looked at the glowing map, she couldn't shake the feeling that chaos was already following in their wake.