“Incredible work everyone,” Director Higgins said from the head of the table, an uncharacteristic smile on his face. “I could not be more proud the Brockton Bay teams were spearheading today’s fight. Every single one of you will get the credit you deserve. To the Wards especially, your bravery today will be remembered.” The four children nodded solemnly. Despite the unbelievable victory, none of them were smiling.

  “Regarding more immediate matters,” the local deputy director, Rennick if he remembered right, spoke up. “Most of the gangs agreed to a week long ceasefire. We’ll continue to patrol, just in case, but I think this means they’ll be partying too hard to cause much trouble. Wards, we’ll step back your schedule a little, let you breathe and catch up with school. God knows you’ve earned it.”

  “Thank you sir,” Clockblocker said flatly. “Can we discuss that later?”

  “Tomorrow, of course,” Rennick said quickly. “Today, after this, I expect you all to sleep for the next eight hours, then celebrate your victory. Clockblocker, if you need anything to put together a party, you have it; I think we can budget for the death of an Endbringer.” The boy nodded once.

  “Standard classification rules still apply here,” Higgins said. He hated to bring the mood down, but it needed to be said, especially these days with the PRT leaking like a sieve. “No footage, no specifics to the media, at least until someone above me says otherwise. Questions?” None of the heroes said a word. “Alright, dismissed. Rest well.”

  The Wards, then Protectorate members slowly filed out of the room. Higgins sighed and took a kerchief from his pocket, briefly dabbing his brow before putting it back. The heat was oppressive today, though he had no doubt the heroes had worse in India. He kept his suit jacket on as a matter of principle, and just as much to hide the sweat stains on his shirt.

  He returned to his office, slowed along the way by the many, many people partying. He could hardly blame them, and certainly wouldn’t reprimand them. This was the first time mankind had achieved a victory against the Endbringers, at least a permanent one. New Delhi may never recover, but its sacrifice would never be forgotten. And he had his doubts any of the heroes there would forget today.

  Higgins sighed as he finally reached his desk, flicking on the small fan for a modicum of relief. Without wasting a moment, he logged back into his computer and returned to work. He’d have to reprioritize some paperwork, with the Endbringer attack, but it was all manageable. Fortunately, he didn’t need to write any fatality reports this time.

  A ding from his phone and he spared a look, then smiled. Barely eleven, but there was already a block party on his street; on every street really. School had been cancelled, so his wife was taking their boys to it, bless her. He shot back a quick message saying he’d join them when he could, maybe slip out at lunch for a cheeky visit. He set his phone down just as a knock came at the door.

  “Sir?” Amaranth said after he invited her in. “Battery said you wanted to see me as soon as I was back. Sorry.”

  “No apology necessary, please,” Higgins said, offering the Ward a gentle smile. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine sir,” she said quickly, eyes flicking to the door. “Um, sorry about running off during the fight. I know I had a job but—” Higgins held up a hand to cut her off.

  “I haven’t heard any particulars,” he said. “Which means your conduct was nothing short of exemplary. Endbringer battles tend to have some...leeway, given the circumstances.” She blinked owlishly.

  “Really sir?” Amaranth asked, cocking her head. “Um...okay. So why am I here?”

  “Well, even though we’re celebrating today, we still need to consider the future.” Higgins leaned back in his seat. “With that in mind, and I am sorry to ask you so soon after the battle, but do you remember anything in the coming days or weeks?” There was a beat as Amaranth stared at him.

  “Uhh, no sir?” She sounded confused. “Do you mean my disciplinary hearing? I know that’s on Friday.”

  “I mean regarding your power,” he said evenly. He knew Amaranth had a history of being...difficult with her predictions. Ideally he would simply leave it to her to bring things up when needed, but right now that simply wasn’t viable. “Any events, attacks, or other things in the near future?” She shook her head.

  “I don’t know sir,” she said. “I mean maybe the Undersiders? They’re pretty mad about Skitter still, but I think we worked together okay during the fight. Hopefully that means they aren’t outright hostile.”

  “Well, I appreciate your assessment,” Higgins said with a sigh. “Dismissed. Have a good afternoon, Amaranth.”

  “Thank you sir.”

  She left quickly, a little nervous maybe. A shame, Higgins hadn’t wanted to add to her fears, he’d heard plenty about it already. A nigh-invincible Brute with severe anxiety, who said powers didn’t have a sick sense of humour? He couldn’t help feeling a bit of relief though. A verified Thinker with the apparent ability to predict Endbringer attacks to some degree, and she didn’t see anything forthcoming; a good omen if ever there was one.

  With a sigh, Higgins turned his attention back to his screen and continued working. No fatality reports today, but quite a number of non-S-List volunteers who needed compensation. The fact that his entire Wards roster, barring Autumn Rain, had gone to an attack by Behemoth across the world was… Higgins meant what he said, about their heroics being remembered. But even now, five years as a deputy director, then director of a PRT department, he didn’t like it.

  Still, he’d make sure they got everything due to them. Half to their trust funds, half to their personal accounts. Technically they weren’t supposed to get more than thirty percent right away, but he had doubts the Youth Guard would give him much grief about properly compensating their charges for duties they really shouldn’t be doing.

  But perhaps they wouldn’t have to much longer. That was quite a thought to entertain, one Higgins had never hoped to since the first attack. And yet here, almost twenty years later, he felt like he could breathe again. Optimism was a mistake in this line of work, but it was hard not to be when one realized that monsters could be slain. Maybe one day, he wouldn’t have to fear the idea that his children may develop powers of their own and be forced to fight as well.

  No more disturbances, fortunately, and Higgins soon found his rhythm. He hummed quietly to the rapid drumbeat of his fingers on the keyboard, lines and lines of text filling the forms in front of him. Brockton Bay’s was a department that truly never slept. Even now, with things quieting down relative to what they had been, trouble abounded and needed responses.

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  The containment and tactical teams had been run ragged over the last three months, with more injury discharges than he’d seen...ever. The PRT teams had been whittled down by a war of attrition, and looking back on the way things had been running ‘war’ was the correct word. He sighed and shook his head, finishing another line of his review on the state of affairs here.

  That wasn’t even touching on the Protectorate and Wards teams. Several died to Leviathan, fortunately none to the Slaughterhouse Nine though Battery had almost been invalidated from service, and then more in the wake of the chief director’s allegations. The core members remaining were exhausted, even if they wouldn’t say anything he could see it. The levies were failing and he didn’t have the plaster to fix it all.

  Still, it wasn’t all bad. Between peace overtures from the former warlords and the celebratory ceasefire, there was a moment here to step back and recover and by god Higgins would make sure this department did recover. He’d managed with Portland three years ago, after the near-open war between the Elite and Red Chinese Triads that left it in flames for a month; and again with Oklahoma City a year later, after an attack by Behemoth.

  He was hardly a miracle worker, and Brockton Bay was certainly in worse shape than those places had been, but it was all manageable. The next few months would be a vital litmus test, both of Higgins and the city. If gang activity could be curtailed to where it had sat before Leviathan’s attack in May, or ideally lower since the city was one of the most violent in the country, he’d count that as a resounding success.

  That meant getting more heroes, filling the PRT’s ranks again, and working effectively with local law enforcement efforts. The latter was probably Higgins’ strongest tool, since they actually had the membership to cover the ground needed. Reinforcements of his own would come with time and lobbying, and there was plenty of both.

  His phone buzzed again and made him start. Higgins pursed his lips, glancing at the clock. Damn, the entire day had slipped through his fingers as they danced on his keyboard. His stomach rumbled and he winced, sighing as he completed the last line of the paragraph he’d been working on. Thought finished, he logged off of his computer then shut it down.

  After setting the variety of counter-intrusion methods, Higgins headed down the elevator and into the motor pool. His little Plymouth was waiting for him, and he climbed inside and got started on the way home. Traffic was awful, people still partying in the streets even now. Probably would be for a few days, the way reporting was being driven.

  There were talks about releasing the footage. Some had already leaked, the native parahuman’s attack, Scion’s final blow, but they were keeping a tight grip. A lot of heroes had shown just how powerful their abilities were; the guns Kid Win had created alone delivered payloads ranking in the gigatons, Clockblocker had set up a mesh of wires that had managed to seriously wound Behemoth.

  There would be questions of why they hadn’t been going all out on the monsters before, which simply wasn’t the case but more a matter of many, truly powerful heroes attending. More importantly would be the fears it could raise over whether parahumans were simply too dangerous. These days, that was a question Higgins found himself asking a lot.

  An hour of ruminating later, he finally pulled into his driveway and shut off the engine. It was quite nice, the family selling it had been asking practically nothing considering the state of the city. He and his wife had none of that, paying what it had been listed at before Leviathan's attack; Higgins believed the city would bounce back. He headed up the steps and unlocked the door.

  “Hello Mum!” he called out as he came in.

  “Hello Dad!” his wife, Miriam, called from the other room. “You’re back late, traffic?”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe,” Higgins replied with a sigh, taking off his jacket as the pitter-patter of feet descended the stairs. “Party city.”

  “Hi Dad!” his youngest Penelope yelled as she cannoned into his stomach, making him wheeze. “Did you have a good day at work? You’re smelly, that means you worked hard right? Mum took us to the party up the road, did you go yet? Riley’s parents are—”

  “Penny,” Higgins interrupted, hoisting her off the ground and giving her a hug. “It’s good to see you too.”

  “Eww, you’re stinky!” she complained, wriggling in his arms. He let her go and she scampered off, then he joined Miriam in the kitchen.

  “The party was fun then?” he asked.

  “Well the girls are all still there,” she replied with a sigh. “Hate to ask but could you run up the road to get them? I know you’ve been at work all day but I need to take the meatloaf out in a few minutes and—” He cut her off with a peck on the lips.

  “Be back with them in a minute,” Higgins said, giving her a grin and getting to see her gorgeous smile in return.

  “Thanks love,” Miriam said, giving his shoulder a brief squeeze before turning back to the stove.

  Higgins put his shoes back on, then headed back out. The day had cooled down a little at least, and without his jacket it wasn’t near as sweltering. A stiff breeze was blowing out towards the ocean, warm and comfortable in his face and carrying the smell of barbeque. He loved his wife’s meatloaf, but lord whatever they were cooking smelled incredible. He followed the delicious smells and pounding music to the crowd of people spread between half a dozen lawns, and the street out front of them.

  Mostly people were just lounging, drinking, and eating now. The atmosphere was still ecstatic though and put a smile on his face. Higgins craned his neck, looking for his various daughters. Susan, his eldest, was cosied up with the Peters’ boy. Well...she was old enough to make her own mistakes these days. Katie and Anya were chatting with Riley and Lily, the other Peters’ children.

  Higgins rounded them all up, despite their groans of protest, and led them home. They brightened up when he promised they could go out after dinner. He wasn’t going to curb their fun on possibly the biggest day of their lives. They sat around the table and joined hands for a quick grace, then dug in.

  The girls ate quickly and were back out the door, or up to her room in Penelope’s case, in less than ten minutes. He and Miriam shared a look, smiled, and enjoyed their quiet meal. After that, Higgins washed up while Miriam headed into the living room for Coronation Street. It had never been the same after Behemoth’s attack a few years ago, but he supposed today was revenge for all that. He joined her once he was done and smiled; the cast was filming live in the Manchester Memorial Tower.

  Once they were done, it was about time to get ready to turn in. He gave Miriam a kiss and left to round up the kids while she made sure Penelope got a bath. Endbringer death or no, bath time was never on hold. He chatted with Nate Peters for a while while the sun set, sharing a cold beer to ward off the remaining heat of the day.

  When he’d finished, Higgins gathered the girls and headed home. The three of them took off once they were inside, off to do their nightly skincare and other things teenaged girls did these days. He grabbed a quick shower in his en-suite, then changed into his nightshirt and got into bed. Miriam joined him after a shower of her own, resting her head on his chest.

  “A good day?” she asked quietly.

  “Like you wouldn’t believe,” Higgins replied. “One in four, that’s a good day for Leviathan. We were lucky to have so many healers, to have so many parahumans there. Lots of permanent injuries but, well, it’s all outweighed by Behemoth dying. The partiers have the right idea.” He and Miriam shared a chuckle in the darkness of the room as the bass thumped in the distance.

  “You think it’ll happen again?”

  “Honestly?” He shrugged. “Scion has never acted like this before. He also apparently chased down a young parahuman, one of my Wards. Slipped my mind to ask her about it today, damn.”

  “Don’t curse,” Miriam chided him.

  “Sorry Mum.”

  “Oh come on Llewellyn, we’re in our room.”

  “Sorry, Miriam.” He sighed. “It’s been a long day.”

  “Hopefully the last for a while.”

  “I…” Higgins swallowed, his gut churning. “They brought up the possibility today, of replacement Endbringers. They doubt it’s possible, since more than three never appeared but…”

  “Sounds like a bunch of nonsense,” Miriam said flatly. “Unless we get footage of Ziz and Liz shacking up, I think their days are numbered on this planet.” He smiled and kissed the top of her head.

  “I love you Mir.” She grabbed his collar and pressed her lips to his.

  “I love you too, Lew.” She chewed her lip, smiling. “You know...Penny’s getting about school age and...well, the world seems a little more hopeful these days. Want to see if Llewellyn Junior is going to be a boy or a girl?”

  “You know?” Higgins replied, his hand gripping her hip. “I think I do.”