She's pretty sure that Musoka won't mind, but it's better for rebuilding trust between them if she checks, and it looks like Musoka's at another loading screen...

<Hey, real quick; are you comfortable with sharing video data from earlier with the authorities? Minerva and I think it's a good idea.>

<...yeah, that's fine.>

She bites her lip. <Do they need to talk to me about what happened?>

<At some point, but not tonight. I can help you remember any relevant details.>

Alright, sending you that data now.

And now... Musoka really should get to bed.

<Hey, I know it's been a really hard day and I'm glad you're enjoying that game so much, but if you stay up all night playing you'll wreck your sleep schedule.>

...but video game...

(Ceru is right, of course. But she doesn't want that to be true, and so she instead sighs and doesn't respond right away.)

Awww, poor Musoka...

<...so, I was planning on looking for a guild you could join after you went to bed. I'll have a list of recommendations for you to wake up to, okay?>

<Awww... Okay, okay, I'll stop for the night. And... thanks.> 

She saves the game and quits, shutting off the power armor.

...she remembers what happened the last time she got out of her power armor, and freezes up for a bit. But she's too tired to really panic about it, so instead she takes a deep breath, pushes the fear out of her mind, and floats herself out the armor and into the compound.

She washes up, mostly in a daze, and then passes out.

This evening, Mirror is standing on a high rooftop, listening to police radio and, you know, standing by the edge of a roof looking out across a city, which is a stereotypically superhero-ish thing to do and which Mirror therefore enjoys doing.

A red-eyed shadow appears behind her.

(There is a hatch leading down to the roof. It is still closed.)

There's a pause for a while, and then, "Yo."

"Mirror." His voice is deep and rich and his accent is RP and he has in fact never left the borders of the United States.

"So, what's the mystery thing this time? Another book of dark rituals, cryptic warnings, another chance for me to try and figure out your superpower..."

(The Gentleman is really quite unhappy, but he's good enough at controlling his voice that this is not obviously apparent.) "Well, darling, this time I was hoping you could help me."

"The omniscient foiled! I really wish I'd taken a picture of your face the last time this happened." She turns, smiling. "What is it?"

(The Gentleman's face is not visible and has never been visible. Not only does he have a bandit mask that covers everything below his red-lensed goggles, but he wears, separately, another complete full-face skintight mask under the obvious mask, just so nobody can ever learn his secret identity.)

"What, in God's name, is Blue Lantern?"

"New trigger?"

Mirror is actually really bad at lying for someone who wears a mask all the time. "My dear, I am more omniscient than that."

"Fine, fine, I hauled her out of the smoking ruins of a burning lab. She's cool, what's your problem with her?"

His problem with her is that he thought the butterfly effect was smaller than that. "Miracles rarely come cheap."

"We're superheroes, G. Miracles are our day job."

"And someone," he tossed out at random, "still pays the price." He raised an invisible eyebrow. "You can answer one question for me, at least."

"So important not to confused can and will."

"Ask your question and I'll tell you then."

"The source of her powers, darling." A demon's smile. "I need the name of the man who made it. Or do trust me, everyone on the continent will wish their only problem was Voidwrath."