(LIMITLESS) INTERLUDE III: JUDGMENT

Director Emily Piggot sat behind her desk, spine rigid, and hands steepled beneath her chin as she read through the files glowing on her tablet.

Madison Clements’ statement; a timeline analysis; a review of Sophia Hess’s disciplinary record; and Armsmaster’s personal report, annotated in his usual, meticulous way.

Across from her, the man himself stood in silence, a plain temporary mask covering the upper half of his face in place of his usual helmet. His jaw was clenched tight enough to creak, and he didn't pace or fidget. He simply stood at a parade rest—straight-backed, squared shoulders, and feet at regulation stance—every inch the soldier he had trained himself to be. 

Piggot respected that about him. Respected his professionalism, his discipline, and his commitment to process and order, even if it occasionally veered into tunnel vision. But now there was something else simmering beneath that professionalism. Something he didn't know how to deal with.

When she finally looked up, her face gave nothing away. The face of a woman who had spent years making hard decisions and living with them.

“She confessed?”

“Yes,” Armsmaster replied, adjusting his stance slightly. “Voluntarily. There was no prompting or coercion from my end. She stayed behind after our scheduled meeting, and from what I observed, confessed because she genuinely felt remorse.”

“And you believe her.”

“I do.” His response was immediate. “There was no benefit for her in coming forward—if anything, she implicated herself—and her account was too detailed to be fabricated. I believe the guilt is genuine, that she spoke to me because she finally understood the consequences of her actions. And she wanted to make things right.”

Piggot let out a slow breath through her nose. “Well. That’s rare.”

Armsmaster gave a short nod but didn’t speak.

“And Hess?”

“If even a fraction of what Clements described is true,” he said, “then we’re dealing with a pattern of violence and assault for months. Hebert was targeted consistently with a level of occurrence and cruelty that suggests this wasn’t just typical teenage bullying. It was methodical.”

Piggot watched him closely. There was more than just frustration or anger. Not just outrage either, but shame and guilt, hanging behind every word.

He was the leader, and as such, was her official handler. This had happened under his watch.

“And she used her status as a Ward to avoid consequences,” Piggot concluded coldly. “A textbook case of what happens when a probationary cape is given too much leeway.”

Armsmaster inclined his head slightly. “Taylor Hebert triggered because of prolonged abuse. And based on everything we’ve learned since, that trauma contributed directly to the volatility of her current psychological state.”

“You’re recommending Hess be removed,” Piggot said.

“I’m saying we owe Hebert more than just that.” His voice was clipped with restrained emotions. “We unknowingly placed her on the same team as the person involved in her trigger. And while Hess concealed the connection, we didn’t investigate thoroughly enough to catch it ourselves. That’s a failure of oversight. Our oversight.”

Piggot didn't argue. Her face remained expressionless, but her fingers, previously still, tapped once against the tabletop. 

“Hess cannot remain a Ward,” Armsmaster continued. “Even if we somehow kept them apart, even if she agreed to distance or restrictions, the risk is too high. Hebert doesn’t know yet, but when she does, the fallout could be catastrophic for everyone involved.”

Piggot’s lips thinned. “What would you recommend?”

“At minimum, given the nature of her actions, criminal charges aren’t out of the question. But at the very least, she should answer for what she did.”

There was a long silence, filled with an unspoken and thick tension. 

Then, finally, Piggot nodded once. “Approved. I’ll authorize her removal from the Wards program, and a review board will convene for potential disciplinary and criminal proceedings. Take your findings to Renick. I’ll draft the official statement myself and handle the announcement.”

“I’ll inform Hess personally,” Armsmaster said. “She’ll report to my office today.”

“She has school.”

“She won’t be staying long,” he replied. 

Piggot said nothing as he turned and left. The door clicking softly shut behind him, and only then did she allow herself a steadying breath. 

She had known from the beginning that Sophia Hess was a headache waiting to happen—most parahumans were—but like Armsmaster, she’d hoped the structure of the Wards would curb some of her worst traits. It hadn't. 

With a quiet sigh, Piggot opened the internal Wards database. Her fingers hovered over Sophia Hess’s file, the pause betraying something like regret. But only for a moment.

Then she began to type.

Whatever came next, Sophia Hess had made her choices. Now she would face the consequences.