Danny was still conversing with Vista asking for her autograph as he got out of his CMC power armor in that Dockworker jacket trying to scrounge some paper around his pockets "Uhh, I thought I have some paper somewhere" Vista look and and just smile and a grown ass man looking all flustered around a little girl asking for her autograph. She's enjoying this too much.

  I ignored it and follow Tobjorn further into the Dock working area in some corner where he made his tiny makeshift workshop. He could have just use any of the supply depot but he insist on building a workshop of his own, His signature turrets were strewn around the area, some of them half finished, some of them even resemble the Terran turrets deployed back at the Command Centre.

  Another place he refused to stay in, said it was too crowded and didn't like places with too much people. Despite his revitalization and becoming younger, the man soul is old, set in his ways. That makes the two of us, although I don't seem to share his sentiment in that regard. No two old man is the same I suppose.

  Or maybe its just me being Asian...

  Saving face culture and all that, refusing to believe that this is what I'm supposed to act as someone who lived longer than most people. I don't really pay attention to lip service, never did...never will be. Wouldn't start now either. Tobjorn notices me as he spread the blueprint I've given him. he liked it old school, print and paper. or in this case blueprints made from cyanotype in the good ol blue.

  "So commander ..." He said.

  "You want me to build a Starport and a Factory to produce these...Thor Mechs with some modifications"

  "So," I said, "that's the Thor. Backbone of Terran heavy assault. Hits like an angry god. Also turns like one." I showed him a holographic version of a Thor from my holopad. The thing is bulky and walk like a Siege tank. Im trying to see if Tobjorn can solve the issue of its mobility.

  He snorted. "Aye. I can see that already, you want me to try to increase its mobility like one of those Omnics Titans I've prototyped before."

  He reached out and flicked his fingers through the projection panning up the blueprint design to show the design flaw in bright red circles, peeling back layers actuators, power routing, joint articulation. His brow furrowed deeper with each pass.

  "This thing wasn't meant to move," he muttered. "It was meant to advance. Slowly. Relentlessly. Like a walking siege engine."

  "That's accurate, that is what it was design for around two hundred years into the future to fight against Xenos. invasions" I admitted. "Problem is, Earth Bet isn't that. Endbringers don't politely line up in front of firing arcs, and parahumans don't wait for targeting solutions, We don't need walking siege cannons. What we need is a Mech that can be piloted like the MEKA on a bigger scale."

  Torbjorn finally looked at me. "And you want to build a factory for this? DVA expertise would be valuable as well. Why haven't you call that young un here? Piloting isn't my strong suit lad, I can build it, but I can't test it."

  "Maybe I'll let her in later but this is still in the early stages and her input isn't really needed just yet" I said. "Look at the stock model. I want something faster. Smarter. Still terrifying but at least something maneuverable and maybe even fly if its possible."

  He grinned then, wide and feral. "Now ye're speaking my language."

  He jabbed a finger at the legs. "First problem's obvious. Mass distribution. Too much weight too low, too rigid. Ye've got piston-driven joints meant for flat terrain and trench warfare, these things gotta go."

  He glanced up at me. "Ye want speed, ye don't fight inertia head-on. Ye cheat it."

  I folded my arms. "How?"

  "Hybrid locomotion," he said instantly. "Keep the legs for stability and shock absorption, but integrate directional thrusters short-burst, high-output. Not flight. Controlled hops, lateral dodges, braking assistance. I noticed the Thor does not have and EVCA system nor any boosters equipped for lateral and vertical movement. Something to design around."

  "Hmm...I was thinking modular boosters before, Tried to experiment into one of the SCVs, didn't pan out well, boosters were too one directional and ended up rocketing around"

  "Aye that could happen without the right ECM system controlling the EVCA. Mech boosters is a Korean specialty, you really need DVA on this." he said approvingly. "And ye lighten the frame where it doesn't matter. Modular armor plates. Reactive composites instead of slabs, I design the Titan around those hardpoints, perhaps we can try to implement that."

  He swiped to the reactor. "This power plant's a monster, but it's inefficient. Bleeds heat everywhere."

  "Terran runs on nuclear," I said. "Bigger reactor, bigger gun."

  "Dumb doctrine," Torbjorn shot back without hesitation. "Route excess heat into secondary systems. Overclock weapons only when needed. Otherwise, that heat should be feeding movement."

  He paused, then looked almost offended. "And who in their right mind put fixed shoulder cannons on a platform that can barely pivot?"

  "Generals," I said. "Usually ones who didn't pilot them, I doubt Terran doctrine is great on flexibility and creativity. It's the military so it tends to be rigid…it is why I'm trying to change it."

  "Hah!" He laughed, sharp and delighted. "Put the main cannons on articulated mounts. Give the torso independent rotation. Ye lose some armor integrity, but gain reaction time. Or make it modular as an extra slot"

  "What about production?" I asked. "Can we actually mass-produce something like this?"

  Torbjorn stroked his beard, thoughtful now. "Aye. But not like Terrans do it. Ye don't build one perfect machine. Ye build a a factory using a base and you build it one by one. It wont be mass production. Not in the real sense its not."

  He tapped the hologram. "Base chassis standardized. Everything else modular. Legs, weapons, armor packages. Different roles, same core. We wont know what will work once the first batch is up. Build them one by one and then custom work and see what works."

  I nodded slowly. "That's the original Idea. I aint expecting a Gundam to be build in one day, but maybe something along an AC with Raven setting."

  "Gundam? What is that? What's An AC? What in gods name is that?," he asked.

  "AC or Armored core. Modular Mechs designed around a cockpit and the pilot needs depending on the situation, modular factory, modular builds. Its an idea from a different place as for Gundam? Eh…that's neither here nor there. It's fantasy Mech on a scale to 10, the kind that goes toe to toe with battlecruisers, and soars around in mach speed in the air."

  Tobjorn scoffed "Sounds like horseshit to me, there's no way the tech holds up. Somethings gotta give…like G force for example. No pilot will survive that"

  I nodded "Yeah…well, those mechs are kinda unrealistic but follow the rule of cool. Who wouldn't want a one man army mech that could do everything?"

  . " Keep to reality son, and ye keep the factory flexible…I dream big, but even I wouldn't dream something so unrealistic like that, if ya want something similar, we can automated assembly for the big parts, hand-tuned calibration for the joints and weapons…huh, never thought about that before…yeah we could try to make every part modular and see if we can improve upon individual parts." Tobjorn wondered deeply stroking his beard contemplating on this new mech design doctrine.

  He looked at me then, eyes serious beneath the bushy brows. "If ye build this factory, Jason… ye're not just making Mechs you're changing modern warfare as we know it."

  "I know," I said quietly. "I'm changing the balance of Mech warfare probably. The only Mech warfare on this earth."

  Tobjorn held my gaze for a long moment, then grinned again, the fire back in his eyes. "Best I get to work then, it'l take time to implement this into the Command Centre and its system, I'll check in with your adjutant Monica once the build is ready, the SCVs can start building the standard stand alone Factory here in the Docks, away from prying eyes. Don't want the authorities in this world to know what we're doing."

  I nodded , music to my ears" I'll leave it to ya then" before I could go, Tobjorn stopped me with his hammer.

  "Oh wait! If you see my daughter, tell her to come visit, I may need her expertise as well as Hana's input on the console, the both of them should have a look at this before its finalize, preferably within this week"

  I nodded "Okay, I'll tell them. Gotta go look for them first, wanna eat lunch with us?"

  Tobjorn shoos me away "Go away now, I'll eat at the canteen, you know how I hate crowding around when Im at work, just don't bother me and go bother someone your age"

  I turned and look at him and said "But I'm around your age…"

  Tobjorn turned to me and gave me a raised eyebrow "Right, forgot about that nonsense and all this bullshit. Sheesh…another earth in another universe. Reinhardt would flip if he were here"

  I haven't revived Reinhardt yet. Someone like Winston and Reinhardt needed recalibration due to how big his original size is and Winston? He's a gorilla. We need Gorilla DNA before we could even attempt it. Part of the reason why im visiting Boston soon. Gonna get myself some Gorilla DNA and then some.

  "Alright old man…seeyah!"

  "And to you too old lad, happy hunting" Tobjorn went back to tinkering with his hammer and summon various SCV to do his bidding, he's adapting too well to this world compared to the rest of them.

  …………….

  The vehicle is a little crowded with Danny, Shadow Stalker, Vista along for the ride. Perhaps it would be wiser to get something bigger than a four seater with mounted gatlings instead. My current vehicle already screamed cape and its not like I was actually hiding my identity, Occasionally i've been going around in public with the ghost operative helmet and this over the top Commander Outfit.

  To be fair, it gets tiring and annoying real fast wearing a uniform in public, today we're visiting further down into former Merchant territory and check out the new facilities we built to accommodate displaced orphans.

  There's even a facility to get rid of addiction from drug abusers. It's part of the policy Monica and I've design for those wanting to stay here for free. Danny grumbled a little " Don't you think this is a little too peculiar for a crowd? I aint exactly a cape. Is it really alright for me to be here?"

  I was keeping my eye on the bumpy road, thinking about smoothing and fixing the roads as well once the place is all spruced up. "It's fine. The place is practically a dead zone before I took over. Just a bunch of empty abandoned buildings with squatters and the homeless, dont be surprised at what you see later"

  The old Merchant territory had always felt like a wound Brockton Bay refused to close. Whole blocks where the city had simply stopped pretending that its part of the city,. Burned-out storefronts. Half-collapsed tenements. Graffiti layered so thick it became a kind of agares records that's forgotten in time. I remembered driving through here just two weeks ago when the warbus was rampaging about, not to mention the piss signature smell of Brockton Bay,

  Now the air tasted different.

  Gone is the smell of piss and rust, waters are still deadly as it is but the water filter we installed has cleaned up the majority of the toxic Ocean around the area. Makes you wonder how the hell this place became this toxic when it's in a few kilometers away from the Boardwalk.

  Illegal dumping? I could only speculate what happened here due to extreme neglect.

  As the Stinger we ride crested the last broken overpass, the skyline rose to meet us as the first signs of Future tech building came out on the horizon, not tall in the way of downtown towers, but it's pretty obvious if you purposely drive into these parts of the town against the concrete jungle of Brockton Bay.

  StarCraft structures didn't sprawl; they asserted everywhere in tight eficientcy. Angular pylons fed power along glowing conduits embedded into the streets themselves. Prefab habitation blocks stacked cleanly, each one identical at first glance, then subtly different the longer you looked, I had designed balconies with planters, solar veils adjusting to the light, maintenance drones crawling like beetles along the seams blending nature and technology seamlessly kinda like a forest city.

  It looked wrong in Brockton Bay.

  Which meant it was working well for me, a place just for me and my people, if I could even call them that.

  I slowed the car without thinking. My hands tightened on the wheel as the first civilians came into view. Not the shambling ghosts that used to haunt this place, but people moving with purpose. Wearing clean clothes. Carrying tools. Some walked in groups, some alone, but all of them belonged here after our direct involvement.

  Mercy made sure of it. Inoculated and vaccinated each and every one of them.

  The reeducation centers were tucked away from the main roads, by design. Away from prying eyes, form the outside it just look like an ordinary facility that houses some sort of techhub.

  . No spotlights. Just low, reinforced buildings with soft lighting and wide entrances. The kind of places that didn't scream prison, even though the schedules inside were strict. Skills training. Therapy. Literacy. Structure. Accountability.

  People called it indoctrination. I call it free education directly imbedded into your brain whether you like it or not.

  Mercy called it triage. Surprisingly, she doesn't have any qualms with forcing people to study.

  Danny sat in the passenger seat, rigid, like he was afraid any sudden movement would break the illusion. I didn't need to look at him to feel the weight of it, the union man seeing another part of the docks replaced by something cleaner, quieter, more efficient. A future that didn't ask permission because I certainly didn't.

  In the back seat, Vista leaned forward slightly, her power quiet but curious, sensing the area around fighting back against her expectations. The space here was very different and she will learn soon that her powers wont work very well. Monica and I made sure that power dampners were installed all around so it would inhibit it.

  . Shadow Stalker, by contrast, had gone still in that way predators do when they don't understand the territory anymore. No dark alleys. No blind corners. The light followed you.

  That had been intentional too, shes been here before, but never fully formed like this, Last time she visited was when the place was still in its building phase. Lots of empty rubble and flat lands, now those flat lands are replaced with people and activity.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  It's a lot to take in.

  We passed what used to be a drug den, now a fabrication annex. The walls were still the same footprint, but everything else had been stripped and rebuilt. Inside, I knew, former addicts worked alongside automated assembly arms, learning routines, some things still stay the same, Can't exactly change people overnight, but people got used to how we do things, they had jobs, a home to go back to, a place to eat and unwind.

  Normalcy? I'd like to think i'd provide some semblance of normalcy.

  This was the part I hadn't prepared myself for.

  A scaled-down civic core modeled loosely after Tarsonis, The main hub of the place I've been building up into, Its wide open space, greenery grown through accelerated terran biotech, clean water flowing in channels that doubled as coolant systems. Children ran across the plaza, not watched over by armed guards, but by unobtrusive drones that tracked vitals and movement patterns with quiet vigilance.

  No Merchants symbols remained. No Skidmark stains. No Squealer wreckage.The past had been scraped away so thoroughly it was almost cruel that I erased a part of history that made this Archer's bridge territory for what it is. You cant call this place the former Boat Graveyard anymore. Now only South Docks belongs to the ABB haven't gotten my brand of treatment.

  I don't regret it one bit.

  For a moment, doubt crept in. The familiar, dangerous kind. The thought that maybe this was too much. Too fast. That cities weren't meant to be fixed like this,This is the wormverse afterall, places like this where suffering was supposed to linger, to teach lessons no one could articulate due to the plot design or what not, I upturned all of that.

  Then I remembered the bodies.

  I remembered the nights where my SCVs had to scrounge for bodies, half carcasse s and unburied bones, their graves unmarked. Identity not available. Either immigrants or people trying to find a better place to live ended up here and died.

  I kept driving.

  There's nothing I can do to changed that, might as well not think about it.

  "Okay, we're almost here…"

  We entered a gated Archway and everyone eyes were glued at the sudden cityscape they saw.On the ground, scale was the first thing that struck you.

  The streets were wide enough that crowds never pressed shoulder to shoulder, yet they never felt empty. Pedestrian levels ran above and below vehicular transit, layered so efficiently that traffic was never an issue if this place is filled with cars. Not like there's any visitors lately, but I've accounted to future traffic as well.

  The air hit me before anything else. Clean. Filtered, but not sterile The air was cool and faintly perfumed, scrubbed clean by atmospheric processors embedded invisibly into the architecture, tuned to compensate for weather, pollution, and even emotional comfort.That's what you get when building an air purified that could cover the whole place.

  So piss smell even if it wasn't an issue before, wouldn't be an issue now.

  . There was a faint mineral sharpness from the coolant channels running under the street, mixed with the green smell of accelerated-growth trees lining the boulevard. They weren't decorative. Their leaves twitched almost imperceptibly, micro-adjusting to sunlight and air quality.

  Vista whistled under her breath.

  "Okay," she said, craning her head back. "That's… not how buildings are supposed to do that."

  Residential districts radiated outward in elegant arcs. Homes were modular, adaptable, designed to evolve with the people inside them. Walls shifted to accommodate growing families. Lighting adjusted automatically to circadian rhythms. Water, power, and food distribution were so reliable that citizens rarely thought about them at all. Scarcity was something taught in history classes, not experienced.

  Shadow Stalker snorted. "Looks fragile."

  I followed her gaze. The towers weren't tall in the traditional sense, but they shifted. External plates slid along rails as internal load changed people moving, elevators cycling, power rerouting. The city breathed, just slow enough that you only noticed if you were paying attention. The city based on Tarsonis, all it's missing is the various Orbital Platforms but that's a work in progress.

  I reached down and knocked my knuckles against the nearest wall.

  The sound that came back was dull, dense. Not hollow. Not forgiving. "Composite ceramite over reinforced neosteel," I said. "Same stuff frontier colonies use for meteor shielding."

  She stared at me with uncertainty, thinking I was pulling her leg. "You're kidding."

  "Nope." I based all of this on Tarsonis. Might as well call it Mini Tarsonis 2.0 Brockton Bay edition.

  Danny hadn't moved yet. He stood by the car, hands on his hips, staring straight ahead like the city might disappear because it was an illusion, the man had to clean his glasses a few times before what he sees is actually just reality staring back at him.

  . A group of workers passed us three men and a woman, all wearing simple gray uniforms with color-coded shoulder tabs. One of them nodded at me. Not reverent. Not afraid. Just acknowledgement.

  "Hi boss! Bringing in tourist in here!" One of the guys waved over and I waved back.

  Danny watched them go. "They're… organized."

  "Shift just ended," I replied. "Fabrication annex C. They rotate to education blocks in the afternoon."

  "Education?" Vista asked, eyes tracking a transparent tram gliding silently overhead. No rails. No visible propulsion. "Like… school?"

  "Like retraining," I said. "Or certification. Depends on the person."

  Shadow Stalker crossed her arms. "So you built a city and decided how people live in it."

  I turned toward her. "No. I built a system that doesn't collapse if people make bad choices, so I made it for them. You think folks know what best for them? These were former junkies and the homeless, the, people who were beaten low with no direction in life. You think someone like that don't need a guiding hand? hah…I did what I had to do to restore order."

  She opened her mouth, then stopped.

  A low chime rolled through the plaza, soft and harmonic. Around us, people adjusted their pace without panic. Lights along the walkway shifted from cool white to warm amber.

  Vista tilted her head. "What was that?"

  "Power redistribution," I said. "A fabrication line spiked demand. Residential load compensated automatically."

  Danny exhaled slowly. "What does it even mean?"

  "It means when there's a problem with the city, it fixes itself, this means a power issue so it redistributes the power load automatically to the part of town that needed more of them.. " I explained.

  As if on cue, a maintenance drone descended from a tower above us, legs unfolding midair. It landed near a cracked curb stone one I hadn't even noticed scanned it, and extruded a thin ribbon of molten composite. Thirty seconds later, the crack was gone. The drone lifted off again without ceremony. Instead of an SCV we have moondrones similar to MULE. or in this case it's just MUD- Mobility Unit Drones

  Vista stared. "That's cheating! Not even Dragon could invent something like that!"

  I smiled despite myself."Dragon? She's alright. But this? This is my specialization. I build cities and factories. Call it my power's specialization"

  We walked deeper into the civic core. The ground underfoot subtly reshaped itself to shorten distances, curves straightening, paths widening as foot traffic increased. I felt it more than saw it, a gentle insistence guiding us forward.

  A child ran past us, laughing, chased by another. Shadow Stalker stiffened automatically, eyes scanning rooftops, alleys habits ingrained too deep to shake.

  There were no alleys. Danny noticed it too. "There's nowhere to hide."

  "And why the hell do we need alleys?" I asked kindly..

  He frowned. "That's not always a good thing."

  I stopped walking and turned to face him. "My cities my rules, there's no way id design streets with random alleys for blindspot," I said quietly.

  He didn't argue.

  Ahead, the central spire rose from the plaza administration, logistics, conflict mediation, all housed in one structure. Its surface shimmered faintly, reflecting the sky in fractured layers.

  Vista squinted at it. "Is that… cloaking tech?"

  "Partial," I said. "Mostly thermal dispersion and signal dampening. Keeps Thinkers from mapping it cleanly. The Ghost Academy is that way if you want to visit it."

  Shadow Stalker let out a low whistle despite herself. "Ghost Academy? The same thing i'm wearing? You building an army of capes or something?."

  " Maybe…maybe not? It's a school. Don't think too much."

  Danny finally laughed, short and incredulous. "This used to be Skidmark's turf." I looked around at the clean streets, the working lights, the people who walked like tomorrow was something they expected to arrive.

  "I know now it's my turf. Come on…Orphanage is this way, there's a place with good food nearby" I said.

  Vista and Shadow Stalker frowned "Orphanage?"

  We hop on a transport pad. Kinda works like an elevator except you only need to stand on the platform and it brings you to the vertical spot along the city. Tarsonis was designed vertically as multi level platform city. People will get used to it if they travel on these things enough.

  Vista floated on it warily like she never take an open elevator before "Is this safe?" she asked. I just rolled my eyes and grab her onto the platform where she stopped floating with her powers.

  "Just get on. You wont fall, there are these railguards around us. Just hold on to it if you're afraid of heights" I said

  Shadow Stalker even made fun of her "Yeah pipsqueak, stop being such a baby and get on. You're hogging down the line" There wasn't anyone else using the platform so her comment is kinda moot.

  That left me with a grumpy little girl and Danny Hebert just shakes his head" I didn't expect a tour of a city, thought we were going for lunch"

  Errbody's a critic these days and impatient. Lunch wont run away. "Is everyone that hungry? It's barely 1 pm."

  We took the brief ride towards the second floor where most of the facilities I build for local dwelling and where most services work. There was the orphanage where I left the little girl Schneider back when I found her Mom overdose on drugs and left her there with the other children we manage to round up.

  I brought four people from the Starcraft world. Teachers and caretakers mostly. The term Teacher is loosely based on whether the general public will accept Preceps that trained Ghost Agents under the Confederacy when it still exist before Tarsonis Fall.

  One Such caretaker is Applebaum.

  Miss Applebaum. Psionic rank 7 capable of minor telekinesis and thought reading and could mind blast you into catatonic state if you're aren't careful with her. She's the perfect caretaker for children.

  They came running the moment I stepped off the transport pad.

  This was a full swarm of little boys and girls with light footsteps, laughter echoing between the clean lines of Tarsonis-style towers, arms wrapping around my legs, my waist, my back.

  "The Commander is here!" for a minute there i just froze…just for a brief moment.

  "hey, easy there kids. I brought guest this time" I said, automatically lowering myself to one knee before I remembered that half of them were already climbing me like I was a piece of playground equipment.

  Shadow Stalker just snorted " You're popular with pipsqueaks. Makes you wonder why Vista here aint taking a shine towards you"

  "Hey! That's uncalled for! " Vista chimed in almost immediately. Some of the kids notices the wards and recognize them " oh wow. You're Vista. And you're ..Shadow Stalker wow! You're superheroes!" I could already see little kids and their hero worship culture kicking in already.

  I really need to work on my PR if a bunch of Wards is more prolific than me, not like I try to advertise myself…sigh. The rest of the kids went to swarm Vista and to much disdain even Shadow Stalker but she took it with a brave face and played along with the kids. Good for her. Danny Hebert is more interested in the ongoings of how the orphanage is run as he talk with one of the security guards.

  Small hands tugged at my sleeves. And then I saw her.

  Schneider didn't run and just kept tugging.

  She stood behind me, I almost didn't realize her due to how small and still she is, like she wasn't entirely convinced this was real yet. Nine years old, blonde hair cut unevenly not sloppy, just a little messy. At least now her hair looks a little blondish unlike when I first found her not that it matter how she look at all it's just…she's much fuller and healthier compared to two weeks ago.

  Her eyes met mine.

  I felt that familiar, quiet weight settle in my chest. She was holding a bowl one of those nutrient porridge from the canteen, judging by the steam and the faint citrus-grain scent. Both hands around it, careful, deliberate. She always ate like that. Like food might disappear if she wasn't paying attention.

  shifted fully down to her level, still surrounded by a loose halo of children. The armor's servos adjusted automatically, quiet enough not to startle anyone. I made sure my movements were slow.

  "Hey," I said softly.

  She didn't answer. She rarely did.

  Instead, she took two small steps forward and pressed her forehead gently against my chest plateI closed my eyes for a while, I haven't seen her for the past few days. I should probably have checked on her instead I was too busy. Unlike the other kids I've rescued, Schneider is a little too needy around me.

  I guess I don't fault her. Unlike the other kids, they were well taken care off even among the homeless crowd, Still…they al deserved better. Unlike everyone else here, I think she's one of the youngest staying here.

  I rested a hand lightly on her shoulder. She leaned into it, just enough to be sure.

  Schneider pulled back slightly and looked up at me, eyes searching my visor as if trying to see past the metal. I resisted the urge to remove it. Some symbols mattered.

  She nodded once.

  Just once.

  Schneider stayed close to my side.

  She still didn't talk much, but today she didn't drift away either. Progress, I'd learned, came in increments you could miss if you blinked. "How's the place treating you?" I asked, keeping my tone light, like I wasn't asking something important.

  She shrugged, one shoulder lifting higher than the other. I took that as permission to keep going.

  "Food still decent? I told the system not to skimp on comfort just because it's 'nutritionally optimal.'" A tiny huff escaped her. Not quite a laugh, but close.

  I smiled under the visor.

  We passed a group of kids sprawled on the floor inside one of the common rooms, projecting a holo-map of the city and arguing quite loudly about which transit line was fastest when its done, I had a maglav train build around the place for easy transportation. to think the kids were already arguing about that. An instructor watched from the corner, pretending not to listen while absolutely listening to the bickering with a smile on his face. He clearly enjoys his job.

  Schneider glanced at them, then back at me.

  "They teach you anything interesting lately?" I asked.

  She hesitated, then lifted one finger. Held it up like she was weighing whether it was worth the effort.

  "…math," she said.

  The word came out soft, a little rough around the edges, like it hadn't been used much.

  "Math," I echoed seriously. "Dangerous subject." That earned me a sideways look. Suspicious about everything, in a cute way.

  "It's hard," she added after a moment.

  "Yeah," I said. "It usually is. That just means you're doing it right I think."

  Miss Applebaum found me talking with Schneider as she walked with regality befitting of her noble stature back in the Confederacy. To think that this women here is a psionic capable of immense power.

  I hadn't realized how deliberately quiet she moved until she was already there, standing at a respectful distance, hands folded in front of her. Late forties, maybe early fifties. Sensible clothes. Practical shoes. The kind of person who had learned, through long experience, that comfort and reliability mattered more than appearances. She also runs the day to day operations when Monica or I isn't monitoring much, kind of like a middle manager.

  "Commander It's good to finally see you again" she said.

  I turned and inclined my head. "Miss Applebaum."

  She smiled faintly, then gestured toward the second floor within the Orphanage,. Below us, kids moved through the courtyard in loose clusters some chasing a drone ball, others sitting with tablets, a few simply lying on the grass and watching the artificial clouds drift overhead.

  "They're settling in better than I expected, I wasn't sure at first when you brought me back from …stasis." she said. "The facility does helps. But settling in isn't the same as healing."

  I nodded. That tracked from what I knew about raising children, at least professionally. Its complicated. I'll just take the word of a Ghost precept that trains psionic children since they were young.

  She opened a slim holopad and brought up a list, not shoving it in my face, not hiding it either. Just… honest data.

  "We're staffed adequately for day-to-day care," she continued, "but trauma doesn't run on schedules, some of these kids need serious counselling. We do have older children among the ones taken care of wo suddenly wake up screaming at three in the morning. Others don't sleep at all unless someone sits with them. We'll need to find more professionals. Could you have Miss Mercy or someone from the General Hospital take a look at these kids?. People trained for this specifically are quite needed and I don't have the full expertise to tackle this unless we do it the old way. And I'm sure…you won't like the old ways."

  "Don't we have any volunteers from any of the people we have?" I said.

  "I'm afraid finding someone with a medical profession, especially counsellors within the rank of the homeless, is like looking for a needle in a haystack. We have none.," she agreed immediately. "Consistency matters. Faces they see tomorrow, and next week, and six months from now, If we can hire from elsewhere I don't mind. We need a permanent resident for the job."

  I filed that away and tagged it for action.

  She scrolled.

  "As for these children's education? Well it is… tricky. Your systems are excellent. Adaptive, and patient. But some of the children freeze when the lessons get hard. They associate 'not understanding' with punishment."

  I exhaled slowly.

  "Okay, I'll try to ask and see if the Dockworkers Association knows anyone in that field" I said. Her eyebrows rose, just a fraction. Approval, maybe mixed with relief.

  "That would help," she said. " More traditional teachers around here in this era and age would certainly help, I suppose we could start building a school properly once the decision is made"

  She hesitated before continuing, and I recognized the look. The moment where someone decided whether to push or play it safe.

  She pushed.

  "They also need things that aren't …well, I found two of them," she said carefully. "Psionics tend to notice those who have similar abilities as them and..."

  She glanced down towards Schneider and back to me. The implication of her stating means. Schneider has the potential to awaken as a psionics.

  "How? This is Earth. It shouldn't be…but then again" I murmured.

  "Yes, it is possible, Miss Lagdamen from the Ghost Academy seems to believe that this world psionics seem to lay dormant, you would find more adequate data from her when you visit the Academy. She's still…trying to sort out the place for possible recruits." Miss Applebaum said.

  I felt that land harder than I expected, Psionics? Sarah Kerrigan level? Who knows. What the hell? Psychics? Real psychics soldiers? And one of them is the little kid Schneider?

  "I might need to think on this and revise the budgets," I said after a moment. She smiled properly this time.

  "There's one more thing," she said.

  "Go on."

  " Some of the kids looked up to you on PHO and realize who you really are, that you are their benefactor" she said.

  Ah.

  "I don't really…" I said quietly.

  "That's no good Commander," she replied. "I'd suggest you show up sometimes without doing anything. Just be present. Let them see that you don't disappear when there's nothing broken."

  I absorbed that in silence. Finally, I nodded. "Thank you. For telling me the uncomfortable parts."

  "That's my job, I can imagine that everyone is busy, A new world with new set of rules. I'm not even in the Korpulu Sector but Old Terra and you made Tarsonis in its image in this city..it's no small feat Commander." Miss Applebaum said simply. She closed the datapad. "You've built something extraordinary here. Now it just needs to grow into being Terran certified."

  She left me there, alone with the city and the children and the weight of responsibility that came with both.

  Schneider looked at me innocently and all I can say is "Heh…guess you're psychic"

  And she just tilt her head like she doesn't understand what it means.

  Oh…dear goddess…really. Why?

  This is such a headache.

  **********************

  A/N

  Slow buildup. I'm trying to cram as much information and things that changed in two weeks. Next chapter we will meet with the rest of the Overwatch gang that get revived. There's afew of em with some Starcraft NPCs as well.Applebaum and Legadman are Ghost Preceptors and were the Pillars of the original Ghost Program. Appears in comics too.