It is a nightmare. It is your nightmare, come alive. The past that was supposed to have died is here, on this earth, running amok in your city. Julianne’s city. You’re almost there, but not quite. You knew it the moment the confusion started. Someone asking you why you were where you were not. Why you were acting so strangely. You are nothing if not (mostly) consistent. There are probably a hundred explanations for it, given the wild new world you’ve found yourself in. But your luck followed you here. You know it deep in your gut. You’ve only seen her face, her real face, in your nightmares. The briefest moment before going under the knife, through an interstellar jail cell. In the years since she last ruined your life, you have used these memories to map out every green pore. If you had the ability, you think you could also steal her face with precision. But she will not be wearing that face. She will be adorned with these high cheekbones and unsettling green eyes. She will have the eyebrows that Jules wishes she had not plucked so meticulously in high school, the puckered c-section scar, the work-callused feet. In an effort to take your life, she has stolen a complete history from Julianne, and that simply cannot stand.

Cooper is surprised to see you on his doorstep. You’ve been warned that he knows of the shifting now, but he stares at you like he is trying to decipher just who is wearing this face, and you know that it is just a precursor to what is to come. His confusion will soon be shared across the city, and you want to hide your face behind your mask and get this over with. You tell him to keep Jeremiah safe, when what you really mean is keep them both safe-- Jeremiah and Gerry. You tell him you won’t come back to this house until Sunday and to turn you away if you show up before then. You tell him that he should stay away from the news if at all possible. You tell him the truth, as much of it as you think he can handle, and you know that you’ve gauged it wrong. He pulls Jeremiah to his chest, an unconscious move to protect him from the stranger in the room. You bite your tongue because you know it is probably what you would do in this situation as well.

“Mama?” Gerry. You know it is Gerry, and you take the chance to step forward despite Cooper’s motion to pull away. Putting your hand to the little boy’s face, you stare into those big eyes. He is going to cry because he came here with the intuition of a child who had grown up around this but had never seen it. Nothing has ever been easy when Gerry cries. So you smile for him, warm and comforting. You tell him to be good and that you will see him soon. You hope he believes you, but you do not stay to find out. What you have to do is hard, and for the first time in a long time, you are choosing to do the hard thing rather than having it thrust upon you. The world descends into chaos around you. The sounds of the city are peppered with the sounds of fear. Galactus is coming and all of San Francisco knows it.

You drive to the park where Jules was once nearly drowned by mythical creatures, and you walk slowly around it, taking in nature as if it is the last time you see it. Within the trees, you are sure you are no longer being followed. It is quiet here, the sound of your breath audible as you shed your jeans and your jacket, which had been hiding the red suit. You never thought you’d be glad to use this thing again, but it has come in handy in this world. And you wonder if that is now lost. Has Veranke cost you the safety of the suit in this world as well? The mask fits as well as ever and you climb the tree nearest you, scuttling along neighboring trees until you are forced to reenter the urban landscape.

You follow the sound of sirens because you know they will lead you to something, and instinct, your shared instinct now, tells you to go to the hospital. She will be waiting for you. There can only be one of you in this world, after all. She just doesn’t have the convenience of your desperation to use against you this time. The closer your speed brings you to where you know she is waiting, the more the spark of your anger pushes you forward. Why does it have to be her? Why here? Why has Galactus let loose someone who would do everything to save this world? Because he is using her desperation against her.

You stop short with this realization. Galactus has let free a terror so predictable and talented that he is almost assured to get the thing that he wants most. This is not about torturing the people of this earth. She is a tool as much as innocent people are expendable. She will get the Motherbox and she will do it wearing your face. The speed comes again all at once, your thighs burning as the crowd parts. The suit may now be useless, but it absolutely gets people out of your way.

When you find her, she is balancing at the sharp glass point of the UCSF Clock Tower, her arms out at her sides, almost playful. Across from her is the sign for the hospital and she is unbothered by the two squad cars parked below her. Passersby give her their attention just long enough for their heads to swivel over their shoulder but no further. Inside the hospital, however, there are people lined up against the windows, staring in awe at the woman in the skintight red suit. Below her, the lights within the clock tower are coming to life as the sun makes its escape.

She spots you the exact moment one of the police officers does. His gun is drawn, but too low. He looks too confused and scared to use it. What is someone supposed to do when confronted by two people in the same suit? Has he seen footage of you helping his city in the past? Or maybe his orders are very clear-- don’t kill the supers. They’re valuable. Behind him, she slides down the glass sides of the clock tower, steadying herself with one hand. She lands with practiced grace and saunters forward. Her muscles are tight the way your muscles are tight.

“I thought it was easier to let you come to me,” she calls out. Just as people moved away from you, they move away from her. They give you a free shot at each other. The streets are already blocked off and traffic redirected to the entrance on the other side of the building. For a moment, you look up at the people in the hospital, silently willing them to move away from the windows. Pleading with the nursing staff to escort them deeper into the building where they will be safe. When you turn back, she is already there. It is the first time you’ve come face to face with her, and all reason and inhibition drain from your consciousness. She does not smile menacingly. She stares at you in concern and fury and you know it is a perfect mirror of your own face. “You can’t--” The crack of your fist against her cheekbone is loud enough to make the police officers flinch. You do not want a monologue. You definitely don’t want to hear what she believes you cannot do. Because you can do anything, and you will do anything to stop her.

You get in two more solid hits before the shock wears off and she fights back. Her instincts and her motions match yours completely and she blocks your blows with ease. When you release a jet of bioelectricity with your left hand, she does the same, causing a wide hoop of green energy that crackles off into nearby parking meters and steel framework. The lights inside the clock tower flicker and you do not stop. The longer that this goes on, the more you feel the difference. She is more flexible, more adept, superpowered beyond even your capabilities. The first blow that she lands is direct to the ribcage and you feel the rush of air leave your lungs, burning on its way out. You block the next fist and the next. And you do not stop.

She tries to speak again, to boast, to feign concern for the people of this earth, to make her occupation of this body believable. You rush her, furious, and you tumble to the ground together. The force of the collision makes her slide across the pavement, your body weighing her down. There is some blood, red and glittering in the dying light. The grunt that comes out of her is higher-pitched than the voice in your head like the few recordings Jules has left you. When you wrestle her arms beneath your knees, your hands are already balling into fists. You want this to be over, but a small part of you wants this to last long enough to enjoy it. You know that small part of you is dangerous. It was cultivated when you were too young to know the difference between heroism and fanaticism. When you shared more with the woman pinned below you than you would like to admit. Still, you continue your assault, hoping to squash down that part of both of you.

You do not understand it at first. Your body goes stiff and your nervous system catches fire. Your fists stay clenched but you lose all function in your arms as you are suddenly airborne. As your body slices through the thick air, your eyelids get heavy and your heartbeat squeezes irregularly. It feels like you are dying. Or are dead. And wouldn’t it be much simpler if you were dead? On the ground, there are pebbles embedded in your skin and everything is warm. Something liquid is matting the back of your hair as you rest your bones flat. You feel footfalls rather than hear them. You’ve landed in a group of people just outside of the blockade and they’ve scuttled away from your prone body. Soon, the pain and the rage break through the electric haze and pull from you a scream so guttural that the space around you clears completely.

In your periphery, as the blood clears from your eyes, you see that others are beginning to arrive. You see Guy, that all-American good boy face staring in awe, and Diana, all but glowing as she takes it in. They will intervene soon, because they are heroes and that is what heroes do, but this is your fight. You want this fight and you do not want another hero to lose anything to this woman. Neither of them have encountered Veranke. They have not experienced the shame of coming back into a world in which your own visage has led an invasion. For the first time in your life, you had been completely innocent, and just the memory of your face was enough to turn people away. Julianne could not live like that. Penny and Donny could not live like that. You do not know what horrors exist in the world from which Diana and Guy emerged, but you know that you can protect them from this.

You climb to your feet, you fix your mask which is torn and peeling away, and you absolutely do not stop. You can protect all of them from this.