The girl reeled from the slap, then hissed at Miyoko. "Ow! What the hell?! You can't treat me like this! I'm exercising my freedom of the press here you benighted assholes! You ought to be thanking us! Tsunami did this for<em>you</em>too! You've obviously got powers. Well, Tsunami feels that guys like you should step up and make the world a better place. No more stinkin' politicians and their endless wars, no more pollution, no more crime! We're working to make a better world, not just for us but for you! Instead of harassing poor journalists who are just doing their jobs, you ought to be out there,<em>helping</em>make the world better! Those drones who got washed away this morning? They'd be cheering us on too! Look, I know it's hard at first for a super to really<em>feel</em>like a super. I get that. But hey, a few old-world drones are going to have to die to make way for the better world. Don't cry over it. Just know that they'll be happier away from this rotten world. We're doing them a favor, and you all ought to be grateful and helping!"<br/><br/>Phoenix could see into the girl's mind. Her telepathic touch brushed past the righteous indignation and fanaticism to reveal memories of the girl standing among a crowd of others at some sort of rally in a decaying warehouse. There were flags up with the image of a black tidal wave on a sea-blue background. The speaker was not the Chinese-American man she'd seen earlier but a slender young black woman decked out for guerrila warfare and working the crowd into a frenzy. Phoenix could see the memories of the girl chanting along with the crowd, pumping her fist in delight.