"She was in London," nods James.

"I was already a Ward when she came in and her dad teleported in and she had some random T-shirt she found on the ground over her face and she was crying and holding a cell phone she'd tinkered into calling him over from wherever he was to get her. The timing was exactly right and Transit had been on vacation to England and everything."

"...at least she's immune to the Simurgh," he says lamely.

"She wasn't before she got her powers."

"Yeah. Uh." He decides he's not comfortable taking about her to James anymore. "...I triggered in New York, ten years ago."

"That was Behemoth, that's different."

"I know. I was just... making conversation." Pause. "And she still goes to Simurgh fights," he murmurs mostly to himself in wonder.

"Yeah, 'cause she's immune. Supposedly."

"You'd what?"

"Flashback. Like, there'd be all these details that would remind me of New York and the memories would be going through my mind all the time. I'm... kinda terrified of even thinking about going to a Behemoth fight."

"Oh." Pause. "So don't."

"I—" He'd been thinking it, that he wouldn't be able to, that he oughtn't, but... "I can hurt him. I can build another gun, like the one I used on Leviathan, but better. If—if I could spare someone of even one second of that, then... I think I will."

James nods.

Yup. Looks like she's reading email correspondence her bot has handled for her. "Hi Glam."

"Hullo. 'Sup?"

"Not a ton, you?"

"Nnnnot much either." He's not wearing his suit, so no floating about. "What criterion do you use to decide which emails you actually read?"

"I read most of them eventually."