With Armsmaster's death, Miss Militia is promoted to team captain. Even with the losses, however, the Protectorate ENE doesn't get new capes—all teams got hit hard by the last Endbringer attack, and even though it was by all accounts a major victory, it did not cause capes to start lining up to join.
Days pass, and winter hits Brockton Bay. It's pretty mild, as winters go, but it's enough to drastically reduce criminal activity. The heroes have an altercation with white supremacists the following week, but nothing much comes of it, as cape muscle seems to prefer to remain comfortable inside. Capes nationwide are somewhat subdued, perhaps as the aftermath of the victory against Behemoth. Nothing much seems to change, however—the Simurgh continues to fly around in her unpredictable pattern, Leviathan continues to be impossible to locate, lurking in the depths of the ocean. The public gets hopelessly contradictory information about what really happened during the fight from unofficial sources, secretly fed from official ones to make sure people don't jump to the right conclusions, and the topic loses its momentum.
And all of this completely fails to distract Sadde, who seems to not be getting better from the post-battle funk. Or, at least, not straightforwardly better. The depression and fatalism turn—maybe not completely, but at least a bit—into unease and anxiety, or perhaps stir craziness. It is, after all, true that, other than for class, Sadde doesn't really leave HQ a whole lot, not since they reached the comfortable position of being able to patrol from the comfort of the console—of, in fact, being more effective when doing that, for the average uneventful patrol.
Fatalism, depression, anxiety, and unease, all combined into a Sadde-shaped ball, are currently floating upside down in Lorica's workshop, failing to read a book while she fugues.
"If these alternate universes are like Everett's, there is an infinite number of them that are actually computing everything that can be computed. Or that's the authors' argument."
"That's a Library of Babel problem, though, you have to find the one making the right computation and that's nearly equivalent to actually making it."
"Yup, they raised that as an objection to that hypothesis, and suggested the possibility that there's an intelligent agent running the calculations elsewhere instead, with massively parallel computers in other dimensions."
"I didn't read the whole review, but they did some interesting math on the requirements. Like, it wasn't just wild guessing, they were trying to come up with reasonable estimates for stuff that'd need to be true for each hypothesis to make sense."
"Of course our current observations don't rule any of the hypotheses out according to their math."
"Sure, although I will totally have the bot digest it for me so I don't have to pick through jargon."
"D'you want me to make you a list? We're both smart, pragmatic, altruistic, ambitious, have similar tastes, similar personalities but not so much that it gets boring, typically good at dealing with our thoughts and emotions..."
The bot receives copy's email.
The bot observes, "This paper would not have been published if Behemoth had made more progress in Pittsburgh."