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She downs the stimulants without hesitating. "If Britannia is across the ocean, this is Liberion with a different name. Taking her down stopped the bombings? Good. Don't need people blowing up cities, Neuroi do that just fine on their own."

"One of the escaping group told me how she was controlling the bombs though my whisper spell - toe rings. Hey, these stims are good stuff." She starts floating, a faint presence and slight glow coming off her. "Lead the way."
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Armsmaster jumps off the roof, hauls Bakuda onto his motorcycle, and heads toward the hospital. He makes a brief stop to hand Bakuda off to someone at the PRT building, which is very intentionally near their destination. After reaching there, he addresses Grendyne, "Lots of injured from the bombs. You willing to help rescue civilians? It'll get you bumped up the line."

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"Of course. I have no idea what's going on here, but explanations can wait. I can carry one person flying but I'll need more stims and probably some food. The invisible guided-arrow was really draining. Oh, and I can incompletely copy some powers, is there someone with a healing power I can try to grab?"

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The line in which Grendyne is being bumped is the list of people waiting for just such a healer. Capes currently doing emergency services take precedence over anyone who isn't immediately getting worse. The healer looks almost jealous at the capes with more traditional functions.

Armsmaster answers, "Yes, definitely. If you can copy powers, you'd be more effective here with Panacea. This is where all the injured are being brought."
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"I can try to copy her power, and probably succeed, but I definitely won't be as good with it as her. I can smell the healing power from here now that you mention it. Can you carry me there?"

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He can. Carrying injured people: one of the things power armor is good for.

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"Hi, Panacea. Eesh - yeah, that's slippery. I can only just barely copy your power. I think I can do blood, bones, burns, shrapnel, and cuts, but not torn nerves or vital organs or anything, you'll have to keep doing the detail work. I'm thinking I either prep or clean up the little things after you're done. Mind getting my leg real quick? The pain is starting to be annoying."

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"Of course." The healer's voice is almost mechanical. She touches Grendyne, and in a few seconds the leg is back to normal.
"If I can focus on the nerves and organs, that'll speed us up."

She goes back to asking each patient for permission and then touching them. Now some of them end up not completely healed, and she passes those ones to her partner.
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She's a bit slow, at first. She asks how to deal with this or that a few times, but gradually gets better and faster at it.

After a couple of hours of this, she's too low on mana to continue, stims or no stims. It's not even physical exhaustion, the magic just isn't there. She apologizes, leaves, attempts to find food and water.
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Finding food is easy.

In the process, she gets approached by a man not wearing a costume. Dark hair, unshaven face, taller than most.
"Hi. You the new cape?"
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"I'm not a cape. The word is Witch."

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"If you say so.

I'm Senegal. I'm with a paramilitary group, fighting some of the superpowered criminals we got here. I'm here to invite you to join. Or, if you just landed here out of nowhere, to volunteer a place to stay and hold off on the invitation until tomorrow."
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"I landed here out of nowhere. I'm technically AWOL right now. Or maybe MIA, since it's not my fault. I'm not sure I want to add 'defector' to that, but I'll hear you out. Tomorrow."

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"Sure. I can give you a lift, whenever you're ready to go."

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"I'm just about of mana for the day. Long fight this morning, got teleported to a random insane dimension, had another fight, collapsed myself doing a fancy trick, then two hours of healing people. But flying takes just the tiniest speck, so I'll follow you once I pick up my steelwing."

She does that, and follows him close to ground level, presuming nobody has moved it and nothing stops them.
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He leads her to a perfectly ordinary-looking car. "That thing going to fit in the trunk? You could follow from above, but that's just asking for someone to track us."

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"It comes apart." She takes it apart, and it does fit in the trunk.

Military guy will probably be slightly concerned if he sees the no less than eight flintlock pistols and bags of gunpowder and shot stored in one of its compartments.

"Nice, a horseless carriage. Someone made engines that fit inside something smaller than a train."
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Senegal is more surprised at the type of weapon than their presence.

"These are common here. They not been invented yet where you're from?"
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"No. And trains are shiny-new. Most, er, invented things have come in the last three dozen years since the Neuroi invasion tossed the kings and dukes out on their heads."

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"You're really not from around here. Cars are over a hundred years old, and trains are almost another hundred on top of that. Still got kings, some places, maybe because of the lack of Neuroi."

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"Oh, we still got nobles in some places too, they just can't order you executed for daring to look upon them with unclean eyes or some other thing anymore."

She gets in the car, and copies him with the seatbelt.
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He drives off. "Executed? That sounds even farther back. Don't suppose we share a calendar? We're twenty-eleven A.D."

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"Thirteen forty one years since the death of Jesus Christ."

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"And you got steam engines. Impressive. Bet we could help deal with those invaders, if we manage to get to the right world and all."

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"Those bombs from earlier would probably do it by themselves, with a Sew to deliver them. Ah, S-W-W, Strike Witch Wing. How does one cross worlds here? In my case it was a botched in-world teleport."

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