CHAPTER SIXTEEN: FOUNDATIONS

The Narrows had taught Taylor a lot over the past few months—how to move unseen, how to fight without powers, how to build something out of nothing. But it had also exposed her weaknesses.

She had always prided herself on being resourceful and adaptable, but she had never realized how much she relied on the framework of her old life to fill in the gaps. When she was Skitter, she didn't need to think about things like navigation; her swarm had mapped everything for her in her mind. When she was Weaver, she had an entire team backing her up. Even as Khepri, when her own mind had started to unravel, she could still see everything through the eyes of countless millions.

Now?

Now she was just Taylor Hebert. And Taylor Hebert didn’t even know how to hotwire a car.

Her assumptions from Earth Bet didn’t always hold up here, and the gaps in her knowledge were becoming dangerous liabilities.

It wasn’t just the practical knowledge she was lacking, though that was a glaring issue. Simple things—local geography, cultural shifts, even basic technological advancements—felt foreign to her. That realization had hit her hard when she tried to piece together information about the Calculator’s technology. 

She understood the fundamentals of circuitry, sure, but this was beyond that. The average Gotham tech wasn’t just advanced—it was alien to her in a way Tinker-tech had always been. No weird biological components, no impossible materials warping physics, yet still so far ahead of civilian technology that it might as well have been magic.

And she had no idea where to even start.

Which was why she now found herself at the Gotham Public Library, walking through the heavy front doors like an ordinary person and trying not to feel too out of place.

The building was massive, and like many buildings in Gotham, had a kind of faded grandeur and elegance to it. Vaulted ceilings, intricate mouldings, rows upon rows of towering bookshelves stretching into the distance. The air smelled like paper, ink, and dust, and for a moment, Taylor paused to take it all in.

It had been a long time since she’d stepped foot in a library. Back in Brockton Bay, school had never felt like a safe place, and libraries weren’t much of a refuge when gang activity lurked around every corner. But here, beneath the high arches and surrounded by the quiet hum of turning pages, she felt a rare sense of peace.

Focus, she reminded herself, adjusting the strap of her bag. 

She wasn’t here for leisure. This was necessity.

Without her powers, she needed more than just brute force and makeshift tools. Penguin, Black Mask, the Calculator—they were playing for keeps. If she slipped up, she wouldn’t just get beaten up. She would disappear. Survival in Gotham meant playing the game smarter than everyone else, and to do that, she needed to understand the board.

Taylor approached the reference desk, where a middle-aged librarian with wire-rimmed glasses and a patient smile glanced up from her computer. She gave Taylor a long, appraising look, taking in the hoodie, the worn-out backpack, the wary posture.

“Can I help you?” 

Taylor hesitated. “I… need to do some research.”

The librarian’s smile widened slightly. “You’ve come to the right place. What are you looking for?”

Taylor considered how much to reveal. “Geography and infrastructure for Gotham City,” she said carefully. “And, uh, maybe some history. Technology too.”

The librarian’s brow lifted slightly, but she thankfully didn’t ask any questions. “Follow me.”

She led Taylor to a section filled with maps and atlases. Taylor ran her fingers along the spines, pulling one down and flipping through its pages. Detailed diagrams of Gotham’s districts spread before her, from the towering skyscrapers of Downtown to the sprawling mess of the Narrows.

“This should be a good start,” the librarian said. “For history and technology, you’ll find more on the fourth floor.” She gestured towards the elevators.

“Thanks,” Taylor said, her voice sincere.

The librarian nodded. “Take your time. And if you need anything else, just ask.”

Taylor made her way through the massive library’s floors and aisles, pulling books on electronics, engineering, chemistry; things she already had a foundation in but needed to reinforce. Then she grabbed ones on emergency medicine, urban survival, and vehicle mechanics—the things she should have learned long ago but had never needed back in Brockton Bay.

She hesitated when she reached a section on criminology.

It wasn’t something she had ever studied in-depth before. Back home, she had been a villain, then fought villains, but she had never really thought like one. She had operated on instinct, adapting as she went. But Gotham wasn’t Brockton Bay. If she wanted to stay ahead of its villains, she needed to start thinking the way they did.

She pulled a book on organized crime from the shelf and tucked it under her arm.

As Taylor turned to leave the narrow aisle between the shelves, she saw a fair-skinned blonde girl, her age or a year or so younger, dressed in a lightweight purple jacket, a cropped tee, and black jeans. For a moment there, in the deep shadows of the library shelves, she thought, 'Lisa?'

But, of course, it wasn't.

"Excuse me," the girl said, as she squeezed by, then stopped in front of the shelves that Taylor had just been browsing.

Taylor avoided eye contact, and moved on.

By the time she settled at a long wooden table near the back of the library, her stack of books was bordering on excessive. Spreading them out in front of her, she methodically absorbed the information, making notes in a scuffed but never-used bound notebook she’d salvaged from a dumpster.

The maps were invaluable, providing a clearer understanding of Gotham’s layout. She traced the routes between districts, memorizing key landmarks and potential escape paths.

The history books painted a grim picture—decades of corruption, crime, and fleeting attempts at reform. Not to mention, the ubiquitous presence of the name, Wayne. Gotham had always been a city teetering on the edge of chaos, its people hardened by the constant struggle for survival.

No wonder this place feels familiar. It’s Brockton Bay on steroids.

The technology books were more challenging. Taylor frowned as she flipped through pages filled with complex diagrams and technical jargon. All manner of weapons, energy cells, encryption algorithms. The advancements here were leagues beyond what was commonplace on Earth Bet, and it was clear that whoever the Calculator was, he had access to cutting-edge resources.

Understanding this technology was crucial if she wanted to dismantle his operation.

Hours passed unnoticed. The library grew quieter as the evening wore on, the few remaining patrons moving toward the exits.

Taylor leaned back in her chair, rubbing her eyes. Her notebook was filled with scribbled notes and diagrams—a chaotic but valuable collection of information—but she knew she had barely scratched the surface.

Gathering some books to take home, she walked to the checkout desk.

The librarian glanced up, arching a brow at the stack in her arms. “You writing a thesis?”

Taylor forced a small, polite smile. “Something like that.”

She reached into her pocket for an ID—only to come up empty. Right. She didn’t have one. Not here.

“Library card?” the librarian prompted.

Taylor forced a small, polite smile. “I, uh… left it at home.”

The woman gave her a look, unimpressed but not unkind. “Can’t check anything out without one.”

Taylor nodded, already stepping back. “I figured. I’ll just… read here for now.”

The librarian hummed but didn’t press, already turning to her next task.

Taylor exhaled, pushing down her frustration. Of course she hadn’t thought of this. No ID, no proof she even existed in this world. A simple, everyday thing—checking out a book—was just another reminder that she didn’t belong.

She left with nothing but her notebook and a promise to return.

At least she had a place to start.