A woman in orange and white is pointing a mace made of light at the uncostumed warlord.

"You've held our home hostage long enough, Marquis!"

A man stands next to her, sparking visibly, while two men and two women spread out slightly behind them. The blasters in back are all preparing to either throw things or shoot lasers.

The man who owns this home in particular glances around, pointedly, at their surroundings. It might've been amusing, if he weren't coldly furious at Brandish's audacity.

"That is not a line I've ever crossed. And it is not a line you will not regret crossing, Brandish."

There is movement, beneath the sleeves of his pajamas, beneath the shins of his pajama pants.

The battle is short and brutal.

Brandish lunges for the Marquis, battering him with help from Manpower, while the rest of the family brackets him in with their blasts. Eventually they notice a pattern to his dodging.

With a few subtle nods, this is communicated to Brandish. Oh really? She's quite sure that anything Marquis wants can't be good. She dives towards the closet, the weapon in her hand shifting to an axe.

She clubs Marquis aside with the flat of her axehead when he throws himself between her and the door, knocking him to the wall, where he slumps, unconscious.

The impact knocks the closet door ajar. It bounces open.

The smol girl inside is silent, but her face is slack, stunned by what she just witnessed.

Her daddy is on the floor and he isn't moving.

"Oh god... he has a kid."

"What."

Sarah's feet sink to the floor, and she sags slightly.

"You were going to kill her. He took the blow for her."

"What."

Carol drops her axe to the floor, where it shatters into tiny motes of light, which slowly fade from view.

"What do we do? Neil, Carol, what do we do?"

Neil releases his charge and steps towards his wife and sister-in-law.

"I don't know. If we leave her here, the PRT will pick her up."

"Regulations would have her put into foster care."

"Where she'll be kidnapped by other villains and used for her powers."
 
 
 

Carol starts rubbing at her temples.

"They obviously won't publish her location."

"We all know the PRT leaks like a sieve."

"What if..."

She looks at Neil.

"What if one of us took her in?"

It doesn't look like Ame is listening. But Ame is listening. She just isn't caring. Or understanding the finer implications. She could, if she thought about it. She's a smart kid. But she isn't trying.

Her daddy still isn't moving.

Neither is Ame. Her feelings have all stopped. Gone numb. She doesn't know what to feel, so she isn't feeling anything. Just an eerie, detached calm. A deathly calm.

Neil shakes his head.

"We can't afford another, and Mike and Jess aren't ready either."

Sarah turns to her sister.

"Carol... We can't let her get taken by the other gangs."

Carol puts her head in her hands.

"I wasn't sure I was ready for one, let alone adopting a second...

"She's about Vicky's age."

"And she might not even like us! I know I d—", Carol cuts herself off abruptly.

Are the flashy home-invaders even still talking about Ame? It seems like it, but they're ignoring her, so Ame isn't sure anymore.

Sarah glares at Carol, stepping up to the closet and leaning in.

"Hi there, sweetie. I'm Sarah. What's your name?"

Ame regards Sarah neutrally.

"Ameron."

Her neutral stare bores into the woman, unblinking.

This is a very intense child. Sarah does her best to remain welcoming, though.

"Did we scare you with that fight. I'm sorry if we did."

She holds out her hand.

"It's safe to come out now."