Right now, tens of thousands of metal bodies are rising into the air. Right now, they're causing chaos and confusion. Right now, formerly happy Rook customers are wondering what just happened to their security. Right now, a passing thief is thinking about hitting that jewelry shop whose guard 'bot joined the growing army in the sky. Right now, Halcyon International Airport is shutting down, because its secret security apparatus just became very public and very uncontrolled. Right now, planes are being grounded, business travelers are venting frustration, families are being kept from their loved ones, time-sensitive materials are being delayed. Right now, the heroes of Halcyon are deciding what to do. Individual members of the HHL, the teen recruits to the JHHL, and the assorted Irregulators, all face a choice. Stay inside, help civilians, try to contain any damage the robots cause in passing, fly up and fight the horde. Right now is not a good time to be a robot. Summer looks out the windows with mounting concern. There seems to be no end of the things. She wants to go out there, wants to armor up, wants to help - but without clear guidance, she's as likely to be shot at as any other obviously artificial being on the streets right now. She stews, and grumps, and forces a smile when a customer approaches the counter, and gets more names wrong on the cups than she's supposed to. Aria comes through the door. Summer sees her immediately. The two girls lock eyes, recognize their own expression of concern on each others' faces, nod in unspoken understanding. Outside, every robot created with Rossum's technology has been usurped. They share a fear. Maybe my sister was one of them. Maybe I'll be one of them. "Give me a, uh, a mocha," Aria says. Summer realizes she's at the counter, placing an order for coffee. "And uh, two of the blintzes. Sour cream. And some ice cream." Summer's face registers brief confusion, followed by understanding. You can't digest any of this. Caffeine does nothing for you. Oh - oh. This is stress eating. You need something to chew on. Aria is staring at her phone. She's furiously texting, then waiting for replies, in cycles. The coffee comes up, the blintzes come off the rack. The shop doesn't technically have ice cream, but Summer keeps a tub of Rocky Road in the employee fridge. She asks for a break - "my sister's here" - and gets some time. She sets the tub in front of Aria, along with two spoons. The blintzes and coffee go untouched for a solid minute. "Thank you," the other girl finally manages, with a sigh. Summer smiles, a little worriedly. "What's going on?" Aria holds up her phone for demonstration. There's a steady series of tweets going on in the foreground, and plenty of SMS and other notifications at the top. "Ever since Christmas, we, the JHHL, and a few other key accounts somehow graduated to 'the place where authentic hero news comes from'. I'm on the Menagerie comms, of course. There's a lot going on, I'm digesting it and reposting what seems to be public, so people know what to do." Summer nods. Of course. That's a safe way to contribute right now, and it's still useful. "Well that's wonderful. Here, you have to try these." She pushes the blintzes across the table, then appropriates the Rocky Road for herself. Aria's phone - set to vibrate - engages in a slow and fitful journey across the tabletop, buzzing softly to itself. Around the two girls, there's a similar excitable and insistent hum from the coffee drinking patrons. "God damn robots." "Danger to the public." "More supervillain nonsense." "They're cool to look at." "Taking human jobs." "Can't trust machines like that." The Newman girls, heads down, eat in silence. More to come soon.