- Location
- Kansas
How long has it been since the last clone spawned?
Abaddon Born(e) - (Worm CYOA)
- Thread starter PublicLee S.
- Start date
- Status
- Location
- Wonderland
rein in,
It was a nightmare, but…Brandish does have that lightball mode to fall back on, too? Not that she seems too sane, either.
than if you're
Vejovis
Preparation 11.4 – May 12th
- Location
- United States of America
Preparation 11.4 – May 12th
A teenager with a red streak dyed into her hair strode down the street in rubber boots, trying not to be noticed.
Normally she did the exact opposite, having the attention of others on her made it so much easier to make them hers, to do exactly what she wanted, but that would create too much of a splash. That wasn't what he wanted, but it wasn't what she wanted either.
If she was honest, and she only was with herself, she was at a crossroads. She liked to tell herself that she'd joined the Nine because she was bored and they were exciting, but the truth was she'd been scared. Guillaume and Nicholas had almost caught her the last time they'd found her, and they always found her, so she'd decided to find a better patron.
Getting in had been. . . not what she'd expected. Even now her skin still itched, though she knew better to take the brat's offer to 'fix' it. That little girl had been pouting, since she'd been denied her newest 'friend', and Cherish knew better to go under her knife. Under her knife again. She'd had to get certain 'upgrades' that the others all got, but she'd been firm on only having the basics.
Everything had been fine, perfectly fine, everyone off having their fun in that city in New York, though not New York City, sadly, when they'd all gotten the call to scatter. She hadn't even known she'd had a radio in her until Jack had turned it on, telling them to run. She'd listened, since he was in charge, for the time being, but hadn't known why. Nothing was in her range, and she'd spot any threat long before it was a threat, or so she'd thought. Then he arrived.
The Shadowed Sun.
Faster than should be possible he'd streaked in, hitting Crawler with god knows what. He'd grabbed the provoker and been gone in minutes, not nearly long enough for Cherish to get a solid read on him, but enough to know that something was deeply wrong with him. His song felt. . . off, like someone had taken a mind and auto-tuned it.
It wasn't by a lot, but it had been enough for her to notice. Beneath his mind was something else, something she hadn't seen enough to put a name to. The names she came up with always came to her, like the name of a song that perfectly fit the tune, but they always started as feeling, and what little she'd gotten she didn't like. All she knew that wherever it was, she wanted to be anywhere but there.
They'd regrouped shortly after, once again in the truck they'd commandeered to move Crawler, who barely fit in the back, and left the still burning city. He'd looked. . . different after he'd healed, and she wasn't sure which she preferred. The way he'd been ugly before, all eyes and scales, but now. . . She shivered, not wanting to think about it.
After he'd blasted through, not even bothering to acknowledge their presence, nothing else had happened, which if anything was worse. It said he didn't care about them, and he hadn't, not really, and no one in the Nine liked what that said. They'd all been on edge until they left it far behind, though they all tried to hide it. Even Mannequin, despite not having a face, couldn't hide the song of his thoughts from her, and they'd all been unsure, waiting for Jack to tell them what to do, though they'd never admit it.
Jack himself had been. . . off, for a day, which for him was an eternity, but he'd come to a decision, and now it was only a matter of time until he told the others. Cherish didn't much care where they went, as long it wasn't New England. She'd looked up who he could've been, and she was fairly certain it'd been Boardwalk, though his PHO page hadn't mentioned his penchant for jets.
He'd let them all wait until he was ready, though the others knew it was a matter of time, so she wasn't worried. As the newest member, it'd fallen on her to do the grocery run, so she'd accepted, if only to get away from the rest. For her plan to work, she couldn't just prime them, she needed for them to feel the 'loss' of her not being there, so she'd grumbled and done it. Well, except for Crawler, but he'd eat at night when a couple people going missing wouldn't be noticed right away.
It wasn't even worth paying attention as she made the cashier smile down at her and believe her sob story about not having the money but coming back tomorrow, letting her slip out without having to spend a dime. It was boring to use her powers this way, and when she was in charge they wouldn't 'lay low', they'd be the force that the Slaughterhouse Nine was supposed to be.
Returning to the house they'd taken for themselves, she wondered how much longer Jack would make them wait. She could probably take over now, if she had to, but you couldn't rush perfection, and this needed to be perfect.
Walking inside, she repressed a snort of disgust. Burnscar was reading her comics, like a little kid, while Shatterbird was reading some smutty romance, probably putting her and Jack in for the protagonists, like she always did. Cherish didn't need to read about that kind of thing, she'd lived it, and it was overrated.
Mannequin was still on the computer, just like when she left, and Bonesaw was sketching something horrible, having gotten over her funk by experimenting on the original owner of the house, who was probably still alive in the basement. Jack was watching television, but not really paying much attention to it, just waiting for something to catch his eye, though from the music of his thoughts he just had it on for noise.
The entire scene was so domestic it made her want to hurl.
She'd run away to get away from this bullshit, and now it turned out she shouldn't have bothered. She had no idea who daddy had pissed off this time, but it'd been one time too many and he'd lost it all. After the problems he'd had with that actress, she should've known it'd been inevitable. Some long-range lightning cape had tracked him down and killed him, his pets, and everyone else. If she'd just waited another month, she could've stopped running and started having fun.
She was free from daddy, only to be tied to this bunch, pissing away their potential just like her father had. They were the Slaughterhouse Nine, and what did they do? Odd jobs, mercenary work, just drifting from place to pace. That would change though, and soon. She'd done too much, sacrificed too much, to let this opportunity slip through her grasp.
"I'm back," she announced unnecessarily. "Anyone going to help me put this away?" A subtle rush of pleasure got them to look up, Burnscar jumping to her feet.
The little pyro bounded over, eager to help. Cherish faked a smile of thanks and let her do most of the work. Burnscar liked to pretend she was nice and normal, but normal people didn't make others. . . she didn't want to think about that, only that she was the reason her skin itched.
Grabbing another seat, Cherish tried to just close her eyes and let the music from the mp3 player she'd grabbed take her away, but she just couldn't find the right song. Nearly and hour later, and with evening darkening the sky, Jack nodded to himself and stood up, turning off the television. "I do believe I've decided our next destination."
"You have?" Bonesaw asked excitedly, smiling up at her 'father' in adoration that wasn't faked in the slightest.
"That's right, little one," he smiled back in a parody of fatherly love. "Our last endeavor was ruined, and it just isn't right to leave things unfinished." Cherish felt her stomach drop at this, but just smiled back at him. It wasn't enough, and he noticed her trepidation, glancing over. "Something to say, mon Cherie?"
With the attention of the others on her, she had to say something. "Are we really going to let some newcomer decide what we're going to do?" she asked, but from the others' expressions they didn't really care, even with the bit of extra incentive to agree with her she provided. Shatterbird even scoffed, but that bitch always had to make herself look the coolest for their 'dear leader'.
"Ah, but he took what was rightfully ours," Jack countered, Bonesaw nodding seriously with a pout. "And though our employer is, sadly, no more, her wish will live on, since her body can't." Cherish knew that was bullshit, and knew that he knew that she knew that was bullshit, but there was no fighting him when he got like this.
"So we're going to Brockton Bay?" Burnscar asked without inflection, interest and dread spiking in her song in equal amounts.
"Not quite," Jack hedged. "I'd originally planned to have us go recruiting, and this will require a full roster. No, I think we'll stop by for some Brotherly Love first, before heading there. Even if they fail, my little girl was denied her toys, and what kind of father would I be if I didn't provide for her." He grinned, and the song that rang through him showed his lie easy enough. "Besides, Brockton Bay seems like it will be much more interesting soon, and not just because we're there. Before then, Cherish, what can you tell us about our eventual prey. He's certainly powerful enough, but do you think he could be number nine, if our recruits aren't to our liking."
"He's hiding who he is," she responded immediately. She'd learned long ago that trying to outright lie to him just got you caught that much faster, unlike her father. "It's like he's not. . . real." Jack cocked an eyebrow and nodded in the direction where the old man was currently napping. "No, more real than her, just. . . there's more there."
"I thought so," Jack murmured to himself, attention sliding as curiosity and interest slid from him in questioning notes. "He almost reminds me of. . ." he trailed off, shaking his head. "As I was saying, Philadelphia is where we're going next, that means everyone need to do you research! And an extra set for Brockton Bay, those that are left, just in case no-one makes the cut. Good men are so hard to find these days."
Shatterbird gave him an offended look, and he grinned roguishly at her, the woman blushing darkly as he continued, "And good women, of course. Any objections?" he asked. Just like every time he did so, no one had any, at least none they'd say out loud.
Jack smiled and headed towards the kitchen to start cooking dinner, leaving Cherish to her thoughts. They weren't ready for her to take over, but even if Jack didn't realize it, going after Boardwalk seemed like a bad idea. She had time though, since from what she'd heard recruiting always took at least a week, and Jack always liked to have the Nine disappear after a job. It might be a bit riskier, but she'd push their training a bit more. It was a matter of time to get them to harmonize with her instead of Jack, and then the Slaughterhouse Nine would be dancing to her tune.
Dinah Alcott couldn't sleep.
This wasn't new, so she laid in bed, thinking.
She knew she couldn't go back home. There was a 87.43% chance of her parents not believing her when she told them she need to be hidden, that they needed to leave Brockton Bay, and if they didn't there was a 94.89% chance she'd be taken by Coil again, with a 72.42% chance that at least one of them would die, 46.52% chance it would be both.
Staying with Mr. Elric and Herb, as he said she should call him, meant they had a 26.08% chance of dying this year, and nothing she could think of changed it. She was happy that Mr. Elric didn't ask her to answer questions for him, but that just meant she could ask herself more questions. Her only being able to see him half the time, when she really pushed herself, didn't help either.
She didn't hurt anymore, and didn't shake, but she wasn't really sure what to do. Without her power, she couldn't really help. More specific questions were always easier to answer, but sometimes using her power helped her get to sleep.
Closing her eyes she looked at all the universes that hid, just out of sight. Trillions of them, too many to ever see at once, but with patterns of colors, patterns of smells, patterns of sounds between them. They all ended eventually, when she ended, but the ends had gotten farther and farther away lately.
When she was being hurt by Coil, there were always a couple hundred that ended that day, now there were only a couple dozen. Most of them kept going on for a while though, enough to give her an idea of where they were without looking to close at them, without hurting herself. She'd either live for two and a half more years, or eight more years. There were a few hers that kept going afterwards, some for a little bit, some for a long time, but she knew better than to look too closely at those, even though she wanted to.
My power doesn't want me to use it that way, she told herself, but it didn't make her want to know any less. She knew something bad was going to happen here, and on the fifteenth. She'd told Mr. Elric, and he'd just smiled from behind the mask he always wore and told her, "I know, Dinah, I'm trying to make it less bad," and offered to help make her headache go away. He was the only one who could, though last time she'd asked he said that she needed to not just go to him, and that she needed to learn to reign in her power and use it responsibly.
She'd told him that she was getting better, that she could use it more without getting a headache, and he'd told her that was good, but that he still wasn't going to make her headache go away. She'd tried to tell him the chances of her getting better with her power with him helping versus him not helping, but he'd just laughed when the chances were the same as he disappeared to her sight. Not even pouting had helped, the meanie. He had made her hot chocolate and sent her off to bed, which helped, but didn't make her headache go away nearly as fast.
Looking at everyone's chances of surviving what was coming made her feel better, especially Ms. Kayden's which had gone from 44.328% to 68.985% in the last few days! The other people she'd met had gotten better as well, though there was a good chance one of them wasn't going to make it. She'd tried getting as close to what happened as she could without hurting herself, but all she got was that it was raining and she was hiding, sometimes with a bunch of people, sometimes just with Robin and Theo.
She'd told Mr. Elric this too, who'd told her he knew about the raining part, and had asked, if she wanted to, what the ratios of a lot of people to just the three were. Hearing that it was 63.24% and 31.09%, he'd thanked her and once again asked her to not strain herself.
She'd said that didn't have anything to do, and he'd muttered to himself that she wasn't in school, so he'd had her sit down and came back a few minutes later with paper and pens, and talked to her about what she'd learned in math class. They'd been doing fractions when. . . when she stopped going, so he'd talked about how you could turn a decimal into a fraction, and how to figure out compounding probability to better use her power.
It was confusing, but she thought she got it, and wasn't exactly happy when he gave her more problems for homework, along with a book to read that he'd talk about with her next week and some vocabulary words. Doing them helped, though, and putting the desk in her room together like her desk at school had made her feel less alone.
She wanted to call her parents, tell them to get out of the city, or call her friends, but doing so dropped the chance they'd survive, and even if it wasn't by much, she wouldn't do that to them just to talk to them. The chance that she'd get to talk to her friends after whatever happened was 87.35%, though the chance that she'd talk to all three was 52.3%, and she didn't want to find out why.
It was late at night, almost midnight, but she didn't really have a bedtime anymore. It was right there with homework in things she'd never thought she'd miss, but she did. "Zilla?" she asked the base, "Is Mr. Elric still up?"
"He is Dinah," the robot woman replied. "Would you like me to call him?"
She hesitated, not sure. She didn't have anything to tell him and shook her head after a moment. "No."
"As you wish, good night Dinah," Zilla replied, going quiet.
She checked the chance that Mr. Elric would survive what going to happen, and she got 99.99%, 0%, and 77.7% the three times she tried to check, the feeling of him slippery to her power. She couldn't figure out why, and she'd asked, it wasn't something he could turn off. She wanted to help him, wanted to do something to thank him for what he'd done for her. She tried to grab the concept of him, to not let him slip through her power's grasp, and to help him. Her power flailed around giving her a headache, but, just for a second, she saw it. She saw all the futures with him where she was there to see what was happening, and she wished she hadn't. Mr. Elric, who'd saved her, who didn't want to use her for her power, who'd sat down and tried to teach her when everyone else was ignoring her?
Mr. Elric's chance of surviving the next year was 6.41154186156%.
A teenager with a red streak dyed into her hair strode down the street in rubber boots, trying not to be noticed.
Normally she did the exact opposite, having the attention of others on her made it so much easier to make them hers, to do exactly what she wanted, but that would create too much of a splash. That wasn't what he wanted, but it wasn't what she wanted either.
If she was honest, and she only was with herself, she was at a crossroads. She liked to tell herself that she'd joined the Nine because she was bored and they were exciting, but the truth was she'd been scared. Guillaume and Nicholas had almost caught her the last time they'd found her, and they always found her, so she'd decided to find a better patron.
Getting in had been. . . not what she'd expected. Even now her skin still itched, though she knew better to take the brat's offer to 'fix' it. That little girl had been pouting, since she'd been denied her newest 'friend', and Cherish knew better to go under her knife. Under her knife again. She'd had to get certain 'upgrades' that the others all got, but she'd been firm on only having the basics.
Everything had been fine, perfectly fine, everyone off having their fun in that city in New York, though not New York City, sadly, when they'd all gotten the call to scatter. She hadn't even known she'd had a radio in her until Jack had turned it on, telling them to run. She'd listened, since he was in charge, for the time being, but hadn't known why. Nothing was in her range, and she'd spot any threat long before it was a threat, or so she'd thought. Then he arrived.
The Shadowed Sun.
Faster than should be possible he'd streaked in, hitting Crawler with god knows what. He'd grabbed the provoker and been gone in minutes, not nearly long enough for Cherish to get a solid read on him, but enough to know that something was deeply wrong with him. His song felt. . . off, like someone had taken a mind and auto-tuned it.
It wasn't by a lot, but it had been enough for her to notice. Beneath his mind was something else, something she hadn't seen enough to put a name to. The names she came up with always came to her, like the name of a song that perfectly fit the tune, but they always started as feeling, and what little she'd gotten she didn't like. All she knew that wherever it was, she wanted to be anywhere but there.
They'd regrouped shortly after, once again in the truck they'd commandeered to move Crawler, who barely fit in the back, and left the still burning city. He'd looked. . . different after he'd healed, and she wasn't sure which she preferred. The way he'd been ugly before, all eyes and scales, but now. . . She shivered, not wanting to think about it.
After he'd blasted through, not even bothering to acknowledge their presence, nothing else had happened, which if anything was worse. It said he didn't care about them, and he hadn't, not really, and no one in the Nine liked what that said. They'd all been on edge until they left it far behind, though they all tried to hide it. Even Mannequin, despite not having a face, couldn't hide the song of his thoughts from her, and they'd all been unsure, waiting for Jack to tell them what to do, though they'd never admit it.
Jack himself had been. . . off, for a day, which for him was an eternity, but he'd come to a decision, and now it was only a matter of time until he told the others. Cherish didn't much care where they went, as long it wasn't New England. She'd looked up who he could've been, and she was fairly certain it'd been Boardwalk, though his PHO page hadn't mentioned his penchant for jets.
He'd let them all wait until he was ready, though the others knew it was a matter of time, so she wasn't worried. As the newest member, it'd fallen on her to do the grocery run, so she'd accepted, if only to get away from the rest. For her plan to work, she couldn't just prime them, she needed for them to feel the 'loss' of her not being there, so she'd grumbled and done it. Well, except for Crawler, but he'd eat at night when a couple people going missing wouldn't be noticed right away.
It wasn't even worth paying attention as she made the cashier smile down at her and believe her sob story about not having the money but coming back tomorrow, letting her slip out without having to spend a dime. It was boring to use her powers this way, and when she was in charge they wouldn't 'lay low', they'd be the force that the Slaughterhouse Nine was supposed to be.
Returning to the house they'd taken for themselves, she wondered how much longer Jack would make them wait. She could probably take over now, if she had to, but you couldn't rush perfection, and this needed to be perfect.
Walking inside, she repressed a snort of disgust. Burnscar was reading her comics, like a little kid, while Shatterbird was reading some smutty romance, probably putting her and Jack in for the protagonists, like she always did. Cherish didn't need to read about that kind of thing, she'd lived it, and it was overrated.
Mannequin was still on the computer, just like when she left, and Bonesaw was sketching something horrible, having gotten over her funk by experimenting on the original owner of the house, who was probably still alive in the basement. Jack was watching television, but not really paying much attention to it, just waiting for something to catch his eye, though from the music of his thoughts he just had it on for noise.
The entire scene was so domestic it made her want to hurl.
She'd run away to get away from this bullshit, and now it turned out she shouldn't have bothered. She had no idea who daddy had pissed off this time, but it'd been one time too many and he'd lost it all. After the problems he'd had with that actress, she should've known it'd been inevitable. Some long-range lightning cape had tracked him down and killed him, his pets, and everyone else. If she'd just waited another month, she could've stopped running and started having fun.
She was free from daddy, only to be tied to this bunch, pissing away their potential just like her father had. They were the Slaughterhouse Nine, and what did they do? Odd jobs, mercenary work, just drifting from place to pace. That would change though, and soon. She'd done too much, sacrificed too much, to let this opportunity slip through her grasp.
"I'm back," she announced unnecessarily. "Anyone going to help me put this away?" A subtle rush of pleasure got them to look up, Burnscar jumping to her feet.
The little pyro bounded over, eager to help. Cherish faked a smile of thanks and let her do most of the work. Burnscar liked to pretend she was nice and normal, but normal people didn't make others. . . she didn't want to think about that, only that she was the reason her skin itched.
Grabbing another seat, Cherish tried to just close her eyes and let the music from the mp3 player she'd grabbed take her away, but she just couldn't find the right song. Nearly and hour later, and with evening darkening the sky, Jack nodded to himself and stood up, turning off the television. "I do believe I've decided our next destination."
"You have?" Bonesaw asked excitedly, smiling up at her 'father' in adoration that wasn't faked in the slightest.
"That's right, little one," he smiled back in a parody of fatherly love. "Our last endeavor was ruined, and it just isn't right to leave things unfinished." Cherish felt her stomach drop at this, but just smiled back at him. It wasn't enough, and he noticed her trepidation, glancing over. "Something to say, mon Cherie?"
With the attention of the others on her, she had to say something. "Are we really going to let some newcomer decide what we're going to do?" she asked, but from the others' expressions they didn't really care, even with the bit of extra incentive to agree with her she provided. Shatterbird even scoffed, but that bitch always had to make herself look the coolest for their 'dear leader'.
"Ah, but he took what was rightfully ours," Jack countered, Bonesaw nodding seriously with a pout. "And though our employer is, sadly, no more, her wish will live on, since her body can't." Cherish knew that was bullshit, and knew that he knew that she knew that was bullshit, but there was no fighting him when he got like this.
"So we're going to Brockton Bay?" Burnscar asked without inflection, interest and dread spiking in her song in equal amounts.
"Not quite," Jack hedged. "I'd originally planned to have us go recruiting, and this will require a full roster. No, I think we'll stop by for some Brotherly Love first, before heading there. Even if they fail, my little girl was denied her toys, and what kind of father would I be if I didn't provide for her." He grinned, and the song that rang through him showed his lie easy enough. "Besides, Brockton Bay seems like it will be much more interesting soon, and not just because we're there. Before then, Cherish, what can you tell us about our eventual prey. He's certainly powerful enough, but do you think he could be number nine, if our recruits aren't to our liking."
"He's hiding who he is," she responded immediately. She'd learned long ago that trying to outright lie to him just got you caught that much faster, unlike her father. "It's like he's not. . . real." Jack cocked an eyebrow and nodded in the direction where the old man was currently napping. "No, more real than her, just. . . there's more there."
"I thought so," Jack murmured to himself, attention sliding as curiosity and interest slid from him in questioning notes. "He almost reminds me of. . ." he trailed off, shaking his head. "As I was saying, Philadelphia is where we're going next, that means everyone need to do you research! And an extra set for Brockton Bay, those that are left, just in case no-one makes the cut. Good men are so hard to find these days."
Shatterbird gave him an offended look, and he grinned roguishly at her, the woman blushing darkly as he continued, "And good women, of course. Any objections?" he asked. Just like every time he did so, no one had any, at least none they'd say out loud.
Jack smiled and headed towards the kitchen to start cooking dinner, leaving Cherish to her thoughts. They weren't ready for her to take over, but even if Jack didn't realize it, going after Boardwalk seemed like a bad idea. She had time though, since from what she'd heard recruiting always took at least a week, and Jack always liked to have the Nine disappear after a job. It might be a bit riskier, but she'd push their training a bit more. It was a matter of time to get them to harmonize with her instead of Jack, and then the Slaughterhouse Nine would be dancing to her tune.
Dinah Alcott couldn't sleep.
This wasn't new, so she laid in bed, thinking.
She knew she couldn't go back home. There was a 87.43% chance of her parents not believing her when she told them she need to be hidden, that they needed to leave Brockton Bay, and if they didn't there was a 94.89% chance she'd be taken by Coil again, with a 72.42% chance that at least one of them would die, 46.52% chance it would be both.
Staying with Mr. Elric and Herb, as he said she should call him, meant they had a 26.08% chance of dying this year, and nothing she could think of changed it. She was happy that Mr. Elric didn't ask her to answer questions for him, but that just meant she could ask herself more questions. Her only being able to see him half the time, when she really pushed herself, didn't help either.
She didn't hurt anymore, and didn't shake, but she wasn't really sure what to do. Without her power, she couldn't really help. More specific questions were always easier to answer, but sometimes using her power helped her get to sleep.
Closing her eyes she looked at all the universes that hid, just out of sight. Trillions of them, too many to ever see at once, but with patterns of colors, patterns of smells, patterns of sounds between them. They all ended eventually, when she ended, but the ends had gotten farther and farther away lately.
When she was being hurt by Coil, there were always a couple hundred that ended that day, now there were only a couple dozen. Most of them kept going on for a while though, enough to give her an idea of where they were without looking to close at them, without hurting herself. She'd either live for two and a half more years, or eight more years. There were a few hers that kept going afterwards, some for a little bit, some for a long time, but she knew better than to look too closely at those, even though she wanted to.
My power doesn't want me to use it that way, she told herself, but it didn't make her want to know any less. She knew something bad was going to happen here, and on the fifteenth. She'd told Mr. Elric, and he'd just smiled from behind the mask he always wore and told her, "I know, Dinah, I'm trying to make it less bad," and offered to help make her headache go away. He was the only one who could, though last time she'd asked he said that she needed to not just go to him, and that she needed to learn to reign in her power and use it responsibly.
She'd told him that she was getting better, that she could use it more without getting a headache, and he'd told her that was good, but that he still wasn't going to make her headache go away. She'd tried to tell him the chances of her getting better with her power with him helping versus him not helping, but he'd just laughed when the chances were the same as he disappeared to her sight. Not even pouting had helped, the meanie. He had made her hot chocolate and sent her off to bed, which helped, but didn't make her headache go away nearly as fast.
Looking at everyone's chances of surviving what was coming made her feel better, especially Ms. Kayden's which had gone from 44.328% to 68.985% in the last few days! The other people she'd met had gotten better as well, though there was a good chance one of them wasn't going to make it. She'd tried getting as close to what happened as she could without hurting herself, but all she got was that it was raining and she was hiding, sometimes with a bunch of people, sometimes just with Robin and Theo.
She'd told Mr. Elric this too, who'd told her he knew about the raining part, and had asked, if she wanted to, what the ratios of a lot of people to just the three were. Hearing that it was 63.24% and 31.09%, he'd thanked her and once again asked her to not strain herself.
She'd said that didn't have anything to do, and he'd muttered to himself that she wasn't in school, so he'd had her sit down and came back a few minutes later with paper and pens, and talked to her about what she'd learned in math class. They'd been doing fractions when. . . when she stopped going, so he'd talked about how you could turn a decimal into a fraction, and how to figure out compounding probability to better use her power.
It was confusing, but she thought she got it, and wasn't exactly happy when he gave her more problems for homework, along with a book to read that he'd talk about with her next week and some vocabulary words. Doing them helped, though, and putting the desk in her room together like her desk at school had made her feel less alone.
She wanted to call her parents, tell them to get out of the city, or call her friends, but doing so dropped the chance they'd survive, and even if it wasn't by much, she wouldn't do that to them just to talk to them. The chance that she'd get to talk to her friends after whatever happened was 87.35%, though the chance that she'd talk to all three was 52.3%, and she didn't want to find out why.
It was late at night, almost midnight, but she didn't really have a bedtime anymore. It was right there with homework in things she'd never thought she'd miss, but she did. "Zilla?" she asked the base, "Is Mr. Elric still up?"
"He is Dinah," the robot woman replied. "Would you like me to call him?"
She hesitated, not sure. She didn't have anything to tell him and shook her head after a moment. "No."
"As you wish, good night Dinah," Zilla replied, going quiet.
She checked the chance that Mr. Elric would survive what going to happen, and she got 99.99%, 0%, and 77.7% the three times she tried to check, the feeling of him slippery to her power. She couldn't figure out why, and she'd asked, it wasn't something he could turn off. She wanted to help him, wanted to do something to thank him for what he'd done for her. She tried to grab the concept of him, to not let him slip through her power's grasp, and to help him. Her power flailed around giving her a headache, but, just for a second, she saw it. She saw all the futures with him where she was there to see what was happening, and she wished she hadn't. Mr. Elric, who'd saved her, who didn't want to use her for her power, who'd sat down and tried to teach her when everyone else was ignoring her?
Mr. Elric's chance of surviving the next year was 6.41154186156%.
- Location
- Wonderland
I'm disinclined to trust that number.
rein in
City of Heroes Abaddon Born(e) Mockups
- Location
- United States of America
Having discovered that City of Heroes is back, I'm shamelessly copying Greg Veder vs. The World (Great fic BTW!) and have done mock-ups of the Abaddon Born(e) in the character creator, to help better represent the characters. The character creator, while limited when one wants to get specific, is really good for a 3D character for someone who doesn't know how to do graphic design.
First off is Vejovis:
There's a caduceus with Entities instead of snakes instead of an Ankh, but even a standard caduceus wasn't an option.
Next is Boardwalk
Again, the rainbow effect wasn't available, but it works as a good basis.
Then Break.
Yes, the hat is new. No, Brownie didn't mention it until we were making his character.
and Enter
Æonic
The clock-face helmet, again, was just a tad too specific, as was the pocketwatch-patterened vest.
And lastly The Neutral Party
Very basic and forgettable, just the way he wants it.
Hope this helped!
My next book Burrows & Behemoths should be coming out Memorial day, and a chapter of Abaddon Born(e) will be posted this Sunday, as usual
First off is Vejovis:
There's a caduceus with Entities instead of snakes instead of an Ankh, but even a standard caduceus wasn't an option.
Next is Boardwalk
Again, the rainbow effect wasn't available, but it works as a good basis.
Then Break.
Yes, the hat is new. No, Brownie didn't mention it until we were making his character.
and Enter
Æonic
The clock-face helmet, again, was just a tad too specific, as was the pocketwatch-patterened vest.
And lastly The Neutral Party
Very basic and forgettable, just the way he wants it.
Hope this helped!
My next book Burrows & Behemoths should be coming out Memorial day, and a chapter of Abaddon Born(e) will be posted this Sunday, as usual
- Location
- Kent, WA
CITY OF HEROES IS BACK?! How!? Where!?
- Location
- United States of America
Here ya go. Just go to the video and follow the steps in the description (you don't have to listen to him).
Preparation 11.5 – May 13th
- Location
- United States of America
Preparation 11.5 – May 13th
Rebecca Costa-Brown sat at her desk, arguably the most important desk in America, and filed paperwork. It could be argued that the president held more power, and in a legislative sense he absolutely did, but power was not merely a matter of legal capabilities, but of the ability to enforce change on the world. Her office received a fraction of the scrutiny, had a fraction of the limitations, and could implement orders in a fraction of the time. Just as she'd designed.
The paperwork she was completing was another aspect of that design. There was a delicate balance between delegation and direct oversight that had to be walked in order to keep the optimal level of control needed to hold the system in stasis. If it weren't for her enhanced intelligence and tirelessness, she would've been overwhelmed by the amount of information she was required to process each day, constantly walking the edge of exceptional without being obviously superhuman. It had been enough to overwhelm her predecessor, allowing her to gain this position and keep it. Any who usurped her position found themselves crumbling under the workload, returning her to her rightful place. After the second attempt, those who would be inclined to take her station found different positions to aspire to.
Approving the transfer of Clipper to Minneapolis, having improved her Mover capabilities to better fit in with the paradigm Director Scovel was trying for, she cleared her desk in preparation for the video conference that one of her directors had demanded. Pushing her monitor backwards so her camera was in the proper position for maximum psychological effect, she waited the remaining ten seconds for her assistant to contact her, telling her that she had a call coming. Appreciating the short lull, she accepted it, her screen showing her the woman in question.
"Director Piggot, you wished to talk to me?" Rebecca asked calmly. "I hope this is not about your requests for other heroes to be assigned to your department, as that has already been officially denied and the rationale given." This was of course the exact reason she was calling, but certain fictions were required to be upheld to keep things polite. As the other woman grit her teeth, unable to hide her frustration, the Chief Director did feel some sympathy for the woman, but that didn't matter. Emily Piggot had been handpicked to manage the East-North-East department of the PRT because she was the best to allow Doctor Mother's experiment to come to fruition.
Given the likely outcome even if they managed to kill Scion, the breakdown of society was guaranteed. Both she and Numberman had run the calculations, and while some strongholds of control could be kept, it was inevitable that lawlessness would descend upon large portions of the civilized world, as it already had elsewhere. The gradual appearance of parahumans had allowed many governments to maintain their power, which would not last through the coming cataclysm. Both of them could run theoretical models, but they needed experimental data to hone their predications and Brockton Bay was that experiment.
Emily Piggot had been psychologically scarred by the Nilbog incident, instilling within her a distrust of parahumans and a reticence to move with anything short of overwhelming force. Her promotion and direction to the ENE office ensured that, as long as Rebecca kept her staffed with enough heroes to handle the situation, and no more than that, then the other woman would hold back the Protectorate and let the non-aligned parahumans do as they wished. Too few heroes, and her claims for support would spur the other directors to help, but with enough to reasonably handle the situation all she came across as was greedy.
Director Piggot took a breath and replied in a strained voice, "Chief Director Costa-Brown, the situation has changed. We now have confirmation that it was the Penumbral Defenders who clashed with the Empire Eighty-Eight. They killed several of the villains, escalating the situation, and shortly after bombed a warehouse that the Undersiders, killing over a dozen nearby. They're escalating things to a dangerous degree"
Unbeknownst to the Director, the Chief Director had already reviewed the report on this situation, despite it being filed only two hours previously. It was an underhanded trick, as Director Piggot was counting on her superior having glanced over it before her call, but not having read the full document in detail. Such a cursory reading would've been enough to give weight to the woman's words without giving her the ability to pick out what was being left out. "And you have proof that this was the Penumbral Defenders? If anything, this sounds like a de-escalation of events from what you previously had to deal with. Should I approve the transfer requests I've received, given the lowering of the Villain population you are currently reporting?"
A look of fear shot across the smaller woman's face, too fast for anyone other than Rebecca to have caught it. "The Penumbral Defenders are threatening the position of the PRT," Emily stated evenly. "By moving without our permission, they are undermining us in the eyes of the public and are committing crimes-"
"Which are not crimes, given they are officially registered," the Chief Director interrupted, "and those actions that are crimes you have no evidence of. Do you even have witnesses that will testify and circumstantial evidence to back them with at the very least, Director Piggot?"
Flushing with anger, the woman replied, "We have witnesses that will testify under oath!"
Rebecca let the statement hang, before asking, "And evidence?" At Emily's silence she continued, "You know the official doctrine of the Parahuman Response Teams, Director Piggot." She let the statement hang for a moment before offering the woman a way out. "However, as Chief Director I could be persuaded to temporarily re-assign personnel, if other concerns were addressed."
It was an incredibly blatant offer, the kind that the other woman would be suspicious of, but which she would take at face values once the difficulty of the task was revealed. Emily had a head for tactics, not politics, after all. "What could I do to help you, Chief Director?" she ground out, obviously upset at having to deal with the even the simplest of realpolitik.
"There's a villain operating in your city; he calls himself Boardwalk. We have reason to believe he is behind several previously unsolved incidents. We would like him taken in for questioning." This was an absolute lie, of course. As far as they could tell, he had likely Triggered only a few weeks ago and had only operated in Brockton Bay. It didn't matter, she had a file of 'incidents' that she could use when needed, and this qualified. Someone that Contessa couldn't Path, and Clairvoyant couldn't see, was a threat to the plan that couldn't be allowed to run free.
Director Piggot didn't look happy but believed what she was told. "He's broken out of the Rig once already, when the Protectorate received orders to detain him. Asking him to come in won't work anymore," she replied crossly, Miss Militia likely informing her of the Chief Director's orders. Given what was known about the parahuman, Rebecca's plan would've worked, but he'd been far more powerful than he'd let on.
"I've reviewed the footage," she replied, not addressing Director Piggot's thinly veiled accusation. "It is what confirmed his involvement in the incidents in question beyond a shadow of a doubt. This is why I would be willing to divert resources for what would normally be an official directive."
"Boardwalk has been working with the Penumbral Defenders, should they be taken in as well?" the other woman pressed. Emily obviously wanted official attention on the PD, assuming the greater force of the PRT would be enough to quash the blackmail material they had on her, blackmail the other woman believed her superior had no knowledge of. It wasn't true blackmail, as nothing was officially being asked, but the intention was the same.
With Armsmaster moved and the Brockton Bay Wards under a competent leader, however, it was a temporary bargaining chip that, in a year's time, would be close to worthless. Director Piggot wanted Rebecca to take the heat, triggering that political landmine instead of her. However, the risk was not worth the reward even if she hadn't had an agent in the Penumbral Defenders.
She'd questioned Break on Boardwalk a few days prior as Alexandria, but while he'd met the parahuman in question a few times, he didn't know more than surface details him. Break's partner, Lee Elric a.k.a. Vejovis, was the one who was in contact with the vigilante. Boardwalk had also seen Doormaker's portal, having been the one to shoot Eidolon with a knife, so was cognizant of some hidden organization, complicating matters to a dangerous degree. Break had stated that he hadn't told Boardwalk about the specifics, and that the parahuman had never asked. Even behind his mask, Alexandria could easily read the man's fervent honesty behind his attempts to seem nonchalant.
"If you can find evidence that they knew of Boardwalk's previous dealings, then I shall consider it," the Chief Director responded without promising anything. "Is there anything else you wanted to discuss, Director Piggot?"
"Can I at least have an additional member to replace Armsmaster?" Emily tried. From her body language, she disliked what she likely saw as begging, but was desperate.
"His removal is why I approved the retention of Paninla," Rebecca gently rebuked. "While she did not have his experience, his worth to the PRT, given what has come to light, was not equal to what his station would suggest." After what had been said, it would do for her to appear conciliatory, but firm.
"The machine army has gone quiet, which has always signaled an attempt to breach containment; we're dealing with the aftermath of the Slaughterhouse Nine's work in New York, which was worse than usual; and we're still trying to clean up the mess Heartbreaker left," she 'revealed' to Director Piggot. "If I could send you more resources, I would, but we're stretched as is. Giving you more support would short someone else of support they would need." Just like you were shorted in Ellisburg, was not stated, and was put subtly enough to get the point across without seeming like she was doing so intentionally.
The shorter woman nodded, mollified, "I understand. Thank you for talking to me, Chief Director."
"Anytime," she replied, "I'm glad we could address your concerns. I'm sorry to cut this short, but I have something else that requires my attention." Emily nodded, and Rebecca ended the call. She hadn't lied, the Machine army had gone quiet, recovery efforts in Poughkeepsie were ongoing, and they were still finding Heartbreaker's victims. If she hadn't known better, she would've been worried about what Heartbreaker could have done with the sheer number of assets he'd gained that worked in the Canadian government, the PRT, and elsewhere. Half the Montreal team was in confinement, though they had the resources to reverse the damage done if they needed to use him.
Calling up the next emergency that needed her attention, she was glad things in Brockton Bay were quieting down.
Everything was going wrong.
It shoulda been great, she thought, tears in her eyes. The Asians were gone, and something had happened to the Nazis, so it should've been all beers and blunts for her and Skidsy. Well, it is for him, she told herself, sitting in the driver seat of her baby, running her hands over the wheel while her skin felt like it was going to crawl off her and over to the crystals sitting in the tray where he'd left them. She wanted to take smoke it, snort it, hell, she'd shove it up her ass like he'd convinced her to do that one time, but she wasn't going to take anything that cunt made.
Fucking Snowball.
She thought she and Skidsy had something special, that they'd be together like Baby and Johnny, but she'd only been his until he got something better. She thought she knew how it worked. She'd build the things that kept him safe, and he'd keep her safe, love her like she loved him. She'd make him feel good, and he'd return the favor, not dump that and walk off after not seeing her for days, getting' mad at her when she wanted a little suga'.
She sobbed, feeling worse than she had in years.
She didn't care that he'd smacked her around, she probably deserved it for yellin', and it wouldn't be the first time, but he always came back a bit later, always apologizing and makin' it up to her with some lovin'.
It'd been hours.
She knew all she had to do was take the shards and she wouldn't care, she could lose herself in working on her baby, or maybe something else. Maybe if I built something really good then he'd come back, she hoped, but she knew it wasn't going to happen. Skidsy liked to show off her babies, but he didn't really care if he didn't have anyone to show off to. The only other villain left was that Sherlock Holmes lookin' asshole, and he didn't give a shit about showin' off. She heard he had Tinkers working for him, and they were probably classy shits that wouldn't give her the so much as a 'fuck you'.
Her chest hurt, and she hiccupped, snot running down her face, not having the energy to wipe it off as she cried. She knew she wasn't that bad off, her family was there for her, makin' sure she ate when she came over, even if she din't want to. They were the only thing that kept her goin' sometimes, and what did she do? She pushed 'em away. They usually came back, even though she din't deserve it, but Skidsy normally came back, and he wasn't. He was fuckin' those bitches.
Yeah sometimes some whore would try to snuggle up to her S- to Skidsy, and yeah he'd fuck 'em when she was busy, but he'd always made time for her. None of those bitches had had powers though. Now she was busy, and she wasn't going to share a bed with those skanks. She had standards, goddamnit!
Whirlygig wasn't that bad, like some chicks Sheryl had hung out with when she was high, Skidsy was busy, and she was waitin' on parts. Kinda lanky, Latina, probably, and nothin' special. Hell, she seemed like the type Sheryl coulda pointed Skidsy towards when she was real busy without havin' to worry 'bout nuthin' goin' on. No it was fucking Snowball.
Turns out, Skidsy was an ass man. Sheryl had a bit of junk in her trunk, but that bitch had a fuckin' junkyard, and was just as fuckin' dirty. Sheryl sometimes got a bit of stuff on her when she was busy, but the smell of engine grease was just sexy. That cunt just smelled like whore.
She wiped her face off, more pissed than tired. That wouldn't be bad enough, but that slut's fuckin' power. She made fuckin drugs! Right outta thin fuckin' air! Crack, smack, Angel dust, bitch even made Oxy! It was all the same off white, kinda salmon-ish in tint. Skidsy just said it was good branding, but she wasn't gonna take anything that made by the hoe who'd stolen her man had made!
Sheryl waited a long moment, before getting out of the car. Maybe Skidsy gave me the good stuff. Maybe it'd just looked like it was made by her, she told herself, moving to the back of her garage, where he'd put the rock. She wasn't necessarily gonna take it, just look at it, double check, just in case.
Wandering over to where it had been, it was gone. Not even a bit of dust, whoever had snagged it leaving nothing left for her. Someone took my meth. SOMEONE TOOK MY METH! I'll FUCKING KILL THEM! she raged. She was going to kill the asshole who took her drugs, the drugs Skidsy had left for her, and then she was going to kill that bitch! And the other bitch too! And Mush, for leaving her alone to deal with all of this shit! And. . . and. . . and what the hell was she thinking? If she killed that bitch, Skidsy would kill her.
She should talk to him, tell him how she felt. He couldn't still be doing that whore. Just in case, Sheryl moved to open the laptop Skidsy had gotten her over a year ago. He hadn't known, but she'd put a camera in his room. He looked so cute when he slept, it always reminded her that he was really a big softie and din't mean what he said when he got a bad high.
Opening it up and connecting to the camera, she felt her heart sink. He was still going at it, Snowball taking it from behind, doggystyle, while Whirlygig was off to the side, lighting up. Hesitantly, she turned up the sound, and listened to her Skidsy call the woman things that he'd promised he'd only call her. Tell that bitch that he din't care about her, that Snowball was the top bitch, and that if she wanted he'd kick Squealer out tomorrow.
"Nah, that bitch be useful, but I catch you fuckin' her I'm cuttin' you off!" the woman commanded.
She was telling Skidsy how to run the Merchants? Sheryl grinned, ready to watch her Skidsy put this uppity bitch in her place! He might not always be the same, dependin' on what he was on, but he always made sure everyone knew he was in charge of the Merchants. Instead of beatin' the hell out of the woman, like he'd done to Sheryl when she'd told him what to do when he was fuckin' her, he just nodded, not missin' a beat in his thrusting. He even grinned as he told her, "Sure thing sweet cheeks, long as I get to keep getting' what's mine!"
Sheryl watched, horrified, as Snowball went back to moaning, and complimenting Skidmark's dick. Shakily, she reached over and closed the feed, feeling like she was on a bad trip. Skids-Skidmark never let anyone tell him what to do, not even Kaiser, and Snowball's cooch was so good that he just let went along with it? What the hell had happened? She hadn't even taken anything!
Is this withdrawal? she thought. Am I hallucinating? It wouldn't be the first time, but it's never been this. . . real. She felt like she was going to die, coming down from god knows how many different things, though most of it was meth. Hesitantly she reached over to re-open the feed, just in case she was-
"Oh yeah take my black anaconda you chocolate whore! I'm gonna drop my-"
No. No, this is real. She told herself, closing the window, silence returning to her garage. What do I do? Do I go home? Can I go home? She wouldn't know unless she asked. Opening up the chat program, she sent a message to her aunt.
RidinHigh9: Hey aunt Barb, can I come home for a bit. Had a fight with Skidmark.
She didn't get a response right away, so she took the laptop back to her Baby, putting it in its slot on the dash. Sitting in her creations always made her feel better, but instead of the warm feeling she normally got, all she felt was sick to her stomach, like she'd had bad clams. The beeping of her laptop distracted her.
SmexyB!tch: u sry 4 wat u said
Ridinhigh9: Yes.
Sheryl really was sorry. She hadn't meant to say it, or to yell at her Aunt. Her Nana had raised her better than that. Nana had also taught both of 'em to write all proper, but her Aunt still had her husband, and was the one she needed help from, so she wasn't going to say anything.
SmexyB!tch: U hi
Ridinhigh9: No.
SmexyB!tch: srsly?
She growled at the screen. How could Barb think she'd come home if she was high? She never was around Isabella. It sent the wrong message!
Ridinhigh9: Would I be asking to come home if I was?
SmexyB!tch: u wer lst wk
Ridinhigh9: Weed doesn't count!!! I'm not stoned.
The pause was longer this time, and Sheryl wondered if she'd finally gone to far, if she was really going to be alone. She deserved it, for what she did. For trusting that asshole. For not being able to keep him. For-
SmexyB!tch: k c u at dnr
Sheryl let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She had some place to go for a bit, though she wouldn't want to stay there for long. She'd either have to come back to Skidmark, or he'd come to take her back, like he had when she'd stayed home last time. He was usually nice when he did so, nice for Skidmark, but she wasn't sure he'd be this time. She'd either have to come back or. . .
She pulled the card out of her belt pouch, one corner of it bent from looking at it too many times. It was a business card, fancy-ish, like some high-powered lawyer might have. Nice, but not in your face. The opposite of Skidmark, just like the man who'd given it to her had been. He hadn't treated her like she was dumb, like she was just another thing of Skidmark's, and while he hadn't stared at her tits, he had noticed them. And it wasn't like you weren't staring at his junk either, she admitted to herself.
She wouldn't go through with it, not 'till she was sure, 'cause she got the feelin' that was bell she couldn't un-ring, 'specially with what had happened during the truce. Maybe it was the withdrawal talking, but maybe she needed a change in her life, and he might be able to help. She slipped the card back into her pouch. On one side was a phone-number and e-mail address, the other side read:
Rebecca Costa-Brown sat at her desk, arguably the most important desk in America, and filed paperwork. It could be argued that the president held more power, and in a legislative sense he absolutely did, but power was not merely a matter of legal capabilities, but of the ability to enforce change on the world. Her office received a fraction of the scrutiny, had a fraction of the limitations, and could implement orders in a fraction of the time. Just as she'd designed.
The paperwork she was completing was another aspect of that design. There was a delicate balance between delegation and direct oversight that had to be walked in order to keep the optimal level of control needed to hold the system in stasis. If it weren't for her enhanced intelligence and tirelessness, she would've been overwhelmed by the amount of information she was required to process each day, constantly walking the edge of exceptional without being obviously superhuman. It had been enough to overwhelm her predecessor, allowing her to gain this position and keep it. Any who usurped her position found themselves crumbling under the workload, returning her to her rightful place. After the second attempt, those who would be inclined to take her station found different positions to aspire to.
Approving the transfer of Clipper to Minneapolis, having improved her Mover capabilities to better fit in with the paradigm Director Scovel was trying for, she cleared her desk in preparation for the video conference that one of her directors had demanded. Pushing her monitor backwards so her camera was in the proper position for maximum psychological effect, she waited the remaining ten seconds for her assistant to contact her, telling her that she had a call coming. Appreciating the short lull, she accepted it, her screen showing her the woman in question.
"Director Piggot, you wished to talk to me?" Rebecca asked calmly. "I hope this is not about your requests for other heroes to be assigned to your department, as that has already been officially denied and the rationale given." This was of course the exact reason she was calling, but certain fictions were required to be upheld to keep things polite. As the other woman grit her teeth, unable to hide her frustration, the Chief Director did feel some sympathy for the woman, but that didn't matter. Emily Piggot had been handpicked to manage the East-North-East department of the PRT because she was the best to allow Doctor Mother's experiment to come to fruition.
Given the likely outcome even if they managed to kill Scion, the breakdown of society was guaranteed. Both she and Numberman had run the calculations, and while some strongholds of control could be kept, it was inevitable that lawlessness would descend upon large portions of the civilized world, as it already had elsewhere. The gradual appearance of parahumans had allowed many governments to maintain their power, which would not last through the coming cataclysm. Both of them could run theoretical models, but they needed experimental data to hone their predications and Brockton Bay was that experiment.
Emily Piggot had been psychologically scarred by the Nilbog incident, instilling within her a distrust of parahumans and a reticence to move with anything short of overwhelming force. Her promotion and direction to the ENE office ensured that, as long as Rebecca kept her staffed with enough heroes to handle the situation, and no more than that, then the other woman would hold back the Protectorate and let the non-aligned parahumans do as they wished. Too few heroes, and her claims for support would spur the other directors to help, but with enough to reasonably handle the situation all she came across as was greedy.
Director Piggot took a breath and replied in a strained voice, "Chief Director Costa-Brown, the situation has changed. We now have confirmation that it was the Penumbral Defenders who clashed with the Empire Eighty-Eight. They killed several of the villains, escalating the situation, and shortly after bombed a warehouse that the Undersiders, killing over a dozen nearby. They're escalating things to a dangerous degree"
Unbeknownst to the Director, the Chief Director had already reviewed the report on this situation, despite it being filed only two hours previously. It was an underhanded trick, as Director Piggot was counting on her superior having glanced over it before her call, but not having read the full document in detail. Such a cursory reading would've been enough to give weight to the woman's words without giving her the ability to pick out what was being left out. "And you have proof that this was the Penumbral Defenders? If anything, this sounds like a de-escalation of events from what you previously had to deal with. Should I approve the transfer requests I've received, given the lowering of the Villain population you are currently reporting?"
A look of fear shot across the smaller woman's face, too fast for anyone other than Rebecca to have caught it. "The Penumbral Defenders are threatening the position of the PRT," Emily stated evenly. "By moving without our permission, they are undermining us in the eyes of the public and are committing crimes-"
"Which are not crimes, given they are officially registered," the Chief Director interrupted, "and those actions that are crimes you have no evidence of. Do you even have witnesses that will testify and circumstantial evidence to back them with at the very least, Director Piggot?"
Flushing with anger, the woman replied, "We have witnesses that will testify under oath!"
Rebecca let the statement hang, before asking, "And evidence?" At Emily's silence she continued, "You know the official doctrine of the Parahuman Response Teams, Director Piggot." She let the statement hang for a moment before offering the woman a way out. "However, as Chief Director I could be persuaded to temporarily re-assign personnel, if other concerns were addressed."
It was an incredibly blatant offer, the kind that the other woman would be suspicious of, but which she would take at face values once the difficulty of the task was revealed. Emily had a head for tactics, not politics, after all. "What could I do to help you, Chief Director?" she ground out, obviously upset at having to deal with the even the simplest of realpolitik.
"There's a villain operating in your city; he calls himself Boardwalk. We have reason to believe he is behind several previously unsolved incidents. We would like him taken in for questioning." This was an absolute lie, of course. As far as they could tell, he had likely Triggered only a few weeks ago and had only operated in Brockton Bay. It didn't matter, she had a file of 'incidents' that she could use when needed, and this qualified. Someone that Contessa couldn't Path, and Clairvoyant couldn't see, was a threat to the plan that couldn't be allowed to run free.
Director Piggot didn't look happy but believed what she was told. "He's broken out of the Rig once already, when the Protectorate received orders to detain him. Asking him to come in won't work anymore," she replied crossly, Miss Militia likely informing her of the Chief Director's orders. Given what was known about the parahuman, Rebecca's plan would've worked, but he'd been far more powerful than he'd let on.
"I've reviewed the footage," she replied, not addressing Director Piggot's thinly veiled accusation. "It is what confirmed his involvement in the incidents in question beyond a shadow of a doubt. This is why I would be willing to divert resources for what would normally be an official directive."
"Boardwalk has been working with the Penumbral Defenders, should they be taken in as well?" the other woman pressed. Emily obviously wanted official attention on the PD, assuming the greater force of the PRT would be enough to quash the blackmail material they had on her, blackmail the other woman believed her superior had no knowledge of. It wasn't true blackmail, as nothing was officially being asked, but the intention was the same.
With Armsmaster moved and the Brockton Bay Wards under a competent leader, however, it was a temporary bargaining chip that, in a year's time, would be close to worthless. Director Piggot wanted Rebecca to take the heat, triggering that political landmine instead of her. However, the risk was not worth the reward even if she hadn't had an agent in the Penumbral Defenders.
She'd questioned Break on Boardwalk a few days prior as Alexandria, but while he'd met the parahuman in question a few times, he didn't know more than surface details him. Break's partner, Lee Elric a.k.a. Vejovis, was the one who was in contact with the vigilante. Boardwalk had also seen Doormaker's portal, having been the one to shoot Eidolon with a knife, so was cognizant of some hidden organization, complicating matters to a dangerous degree. Break had stated that he hadn't told Boardwalk about the specifics, and that the parahuman had never asked. Even behind his mask, Alexandria could easily read the man's fervent honesty behind his attempts to seem nonchalant.
"If you can find evidence that they knew of Boardwalk's previous dealings, then I shall consider it," the Chief Director responded without promising anything. "Is there anything else you wanted to discuss, Director Piggot?"
"Can I at least have an additional member to replace Armsmaster?" Emily tried. From her body language, she disliked what she likely saw as begging, but was desperate.
"His removal is why I approved the retention of Paninla," Rebecca gently rebuked. "While she did not have his experience, his worth to the PRT, given what has come to light, was not equal to what his station would suggest." After what had been said, it would do for her to appear conciliatory, but firm.
"The machine army has gone quiet, which has always signaled an attempt to breach containment; we're dealing with the aftermath of the Slaughterhouse Nine's work in New York, which was worse than usual; and we're still trying to clean up the mess Heartbreaker left," she 'revealed' to Director Piggot. "If I could send you more resources, I would, but we're stretched as is. Giving you more support would short someone else of support they would need." Just like you were shorted in Ellisburg, was not stated, and was put subtly enough to get the point across without seeming like she was doing so intentionally.
The shorter woman nodded, mollified, "I understand. Thank you for talking to me, Chief Director."
"Anytime," she replied, "I'm glad we could address your concerns. I'm sorry to cut this short, but I have something else that requires my attention." Emily nodded, and Rebecca ended the call. She hadn't lied, the Machine army had gone quiet, recovery efforts in Poughkeepsie were ongoing, and they were still finding Heartbreaker's victims. If she hadn't known better, she would've been worried about what Heartbreaker could have done with the sheer number of assets he'd gained that worked in the Canadian government, the PRT, and elsewhere. Half the Montreal team was in confinement, though they had the resources to reverse the damage done if they needed to use him.
Calling up the next emergency that needed her attention, she was glad things in Brockton Bay were quieting down.
Everything was going wrong.
It shoulda been great, she thought, tears in her eyes. The Asians were gone, and something had happened to the Nazis, so it should've been all beers and blunts for her and Skidsy. Well, it is for him, she told herself, sitting in the driver seat of her baby, running her hands over the wheel while her skin felt like it was going to crawl off her and over to the crystals sitting in the tray where he'd left them. She wanted to take smoke it, snort it, hell, she'd shove it up her ass like he'd convinced her to do that one time, but she wasn't going to take anything that cunt made.
Fucking Snowball.
She thought she and Skidsy had something special, that they'd be together like Baby and Johnny, but she'd only been his until he got something better. She thought she knew how it worked. She'd build the things that kept him safe, and he'd keep her safe, love her like she loved him. She'd make him feel good, and he'd return the favor, not dump that and walk off after not seeing her for days, getting' mad at her when she wanted a little suga'.
She sobbed, feeling worse than she had in years.
She didn't care that he'd smacked her around, she probably deserved it for yellin', and it wouldn't be the first time, but he always came back a bit later, always apologizing and makin' it up to her with some lovin'.
It'd been hours.
She knew all she had to do was take the shards and she wouldn't care, she could lose herself in working on her baby, or maybe something else. Maybe if I built something really good then he'd come back, she hoped, but she knew it wasn't going to happen. Skidsy liked to show off her babies, but he didn't really care if he didn't have anyone to show off to. The only other villain left was that Sherlock Holmes lookin' asshole, and he didn't give a shit about showin' off. She heard he had Tinkers working for him, and they were probably classy shits that wouldn't give her the so much as a 'fuck you'.
Her chest hurt, and she hiccupped, snot running down her face, not having the energy to wipe it off as she cried. She knew she wasn't that bad off, her family was there for her, makin' sure she ate when she came over, even if she din't want to. They were the only thing that kept her goin' sometimes, and what did she do? She pushed 'em away. They usually came back, even though she din't deserve it, but Skidsy normally came back, and he wasn't. He was fuckin' those bitches.
Yeah sometimes some whore would try to snuggle up to her S- to Skidsy, and yeah he'd fuck 'em when she was busy, but he'd always made time for her. None of those bitches had had powers though. Now she was busy, and she wasn't going to share a bed with those skanks. She had standards, goddamnit!
Whirlygig wasn't that bad, like some chicks Sheryl had hung out with when she was high, Skidsy was busy, and she was waitin' on parts. Kinda lanky, Latina, probably, and nothin' special. Hell, she seemed like the type Sheryl coulda pointed Skidsy towards when she was real busy without havin' to worry 'bout nuthin' goin' on. No it was fucking Snowball.
Turns out, Skidsy was an ass man. Sheryl had a bit of junk in her trunk, but that bitch had a fuckin' junkyard, and was just as fuckin' dirty. Sheryl sometimes got a bit of stuff on her when she was busy, but the smell of engine grease was just sexy. That cunt just smelled like whore.
She wiped her face off, more pissed than tired. That wouldn't be bad enough, but that slut's fuckin' power. She made fuckin drugs! Right outta thin fuckin' air! Crack, smack, Angel dust, bitch even made Oxy! It was all the same off white, kinda salmon-ish in tint. Skidsy just said it was good branding, but she wasn't gonna take anything that made by the hoe who'd stolen her man had made!
Sheryl waited a long moment, before getting out of the car. Maybe Skidsy gave me the good stuff. Maybe it'd just looked like it was made by her, she told herself, moving to the back of her garage, where he'd put the rock. She wasn't necessarily gonna take it, just look at it, double check, just in case.
Wandering over to where it had been, it was gone. Not even a bit of dust, whoever had snagged it leaving nothing left for her. Someone took my meth. SOMEONE TOOK MY METH! I'll FUCKING KILL THEM! she raged. She was going to kill the asshole who took her drugs, the drugs Skidsy had left for her, and then she was going to kill that bitch! And the other bitch too! And Mush, for leaving her alone to deal with all of this shit! And. . . and. . . and what the hell was she thinking? If she killed that bitch, Skidsy would kill her.
She should talk to him, tell him how she felt. He couldn't still be doing that whore. Just in case, Sheryl moved to open the laptop Skidsy had gotten her over a year ago. He hadn't known, but she'd put a camera in his room. He looked so cute when he slept, it always reminded her that he was really a big softie and din't mean what he said when he got a bad high.
Opening it up and connecting to the camera, she felt her heart sink. He was still going at it, Snowball taking it from behind, doggystyle, while Whirlygig was off to the side, lighting up. Hesitantly, she turned up the sound, and listened to her Skidsy call the woman things that he'd promised he'd only call her. Tell that bitch that he din't care about her, that Snowball was the top bitch, and that if she wanted he'd kick Squealer out tomorrow.
"Nah, that bitch be useful, but I catch you fuckin' her I'm cuttin' you off!" the woman commanded.
She was telling Skidsy how to run the Merchants? Sheryl grinned, ready to watch her Skidsy put this uppity bitch in her place! He might not always be the same, dependin' on what he was on, but he always made sure everyone knew he was in charge of the Merchants. Instead of beatin' the hell out of the woman, like he'd done to Sheryl when she'd told him what to do when he was fuckin' her, he just nodded, not missin' a beat in his thrusting. He even grinned as he told her, "Sure thing sweet cheeks, long as I get to keep getting' what's mine!"
Sheryl watched, horrified, as Snowball went back to moaning, and complimenting Skidmark's dick. Shakily, she reached over and closed the feed, feeling like she was on a bad trip. Skids-Skidmark never let anyone tell him what to do, not even Kaiser, and Snowball's cooch was so good that he just let went along with it? What the hell had happened? She hadn't even taken anything!
Is this withdrawal? she thought. Am I hallucinating? It wouldn't be the first time, but it's never been this. . . real. She felt like she was going to die, coming down from god knows how many different things, though most of it was meth. Hesitantly she reached over to re-open the feed, just in case she was-
"Oh yeah take my black anaconda you chocolate whore! I'm gonna drop my-"
No. No, this is real. She told herself, closing the window, silence returning to her garage. What do I do? Do I go home? Can I go home? She wouldn't know unless she asked. Opening up the chat program, she sent a message to her aunt.
RidinHigh9: Hey aunt Barb, can I come home for a bit. Had a fight with Skidmark.
She didn't get a response right away, so she took the laptop back to her Baby, putting it in its slot on the dash. Sitting in her creations always made her feel better, but instead of the warm feeling she normally got, all she felt was sick to her stomach, like she'd had bad clams. The beeping of her laptop distracted her.
SmexyB!tch: u sry 4 wat u said
Ridinhigh9: Yes.
Sheryl really was sorry. She hadn't meant to say it, or to yell at her Aunt. Her Nana had raised her better than that. Nana had also taught both of 'em to write all proper, but her Aunt still had her husband, and was the one she needed help from, so she wasn't going to say anything.
SmexyB!tch: U hi
Ridinhigh9: No.
SmexyB!tch: srsly?
She growled at the screen. How could Barb think she'd come home if she was high? She never was around Isabella. It sent the wrong message!
Ridinhigh9: Would I be asking to come home if I was?
SmexyB!tch: u wer lst wk
Ridinhigh9: Weed doesn't count!!! I'm not stoned.
The pause was longer this time, and Sheryl wondered if she'd finally gone to far, if she was really going to be alone. She deserved it, for what she did. For trusting that asshole. For not being able to keep him. For-
SmexyB!tch: k c u at dnr
Sheryl let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She had some place to go for a bit, though she wouldn't want to stay there for long. She'd either have to come back to Skidmark, or he'd come to take her back, like he had when she'd stayed home last time. He was usually nice when he did so, nice for Skidmark, but she wasn't sure he'd be this time. She'd either have to come back or. . .
She pulled the card out of her belt pouch, one corner of it bent from looking at it too many times. It was a business card, fancy-ish, like some high-powered lawyer might have. Nice, but not in your face. The opposite of Skidmark, just like the man who'd given it to her had been. He hadn't treated her like she was dumb, like she was just another thing of Skidmark's, and while he hadn't stared at her tits, he had noticed them. And it wasn't like you weren't staring at his junk either, she admitted to herself.
She wouldn't go through with it, not 'till she was sure, 'cause she got the feelin' that was bell she couldn't un-ring, 'specially with what had happened during the truce. Maybe it was the withdrawal talking, but maybe she needed a change in her life, and he might be able to help. She slipped the card back into her pouch. On one side was a phone-number and e-mail address, the other side read:
VEJOVIS
PENUMBRAL DEFENDERS
PENUMBRAL DEFENDERS
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My Second Book is Available!
- Location
- United States of America
Hey all, my second book, Burrows & Behemoths, is out!
The e-book version for kindle is found HERE. The Print version is found HERE. If you enjoy my writing, you'd likely enjoy this as well. The first book, Amateurs & Adventurers can be found HERE. You don't need to read the first to understand what's going on in the second, but it introduces the characters, tabletop roleplaying games, and the world the story takes place in in greater detail. If the print version is not available yet, wait a day or two, as even though Amazon says it's finished processing, it I've discovered that if you don't set it up for pre-order it sometimes takes a little bit for it to actually become ready to order.
And if you do enjoy it, please leave a review on the page, as that helps bump it up in search results!
The e-book version for kindle is found HERE. The Print version is found HERE. If you enjoy my writing, you'd likely enjoy this as well. The first book, Amateurs & Adventurers can be found HERE. You don't need to read the first to understand what's going on in the second, but it introduces the characters, tabletop roleplaying games, and the world the story takes place in in greater detail. If the print version is not available yet, wait a day or two, as even though Amazon says it's finished processing, it I've discovered that if you don't set it up for pre-order it sometimes takes a little bit for it to actually become ready to order.
And if you do enjoy it, please leave a review on the page, as that helps bump it up in search results!
- Location
- Wonderland
As fanfic, no obligation to keep the intentional nature of BB's villain balance hidden, natch. Typo roundup:
theoretical
delete one 'would'
of.
Preparation 11.6 – May 14th
- Location
- United States of America
Preparation 11.6 – May 14th
I can't believe he said yes.
Taylor sat in her seat in the well-lit restaurant, looking at a menu whose prices made her wince, not sure what to do now. She'd thrown it out expecting him to say no, because of course he would, but he'd just looked thoughtful, smiled, and said that going out for dinner the night before everything happened was a great idea. Ten minutes after that he'd told her he'd made the reservation for tomorrow, and to dress business casual. She had no idea what that had meant, but Herb helped her find something nice to wear, though she'd wished he hadn't laughed so much.
Now she was here, having dinner with Lee, in what was absolutely a romantic setting. He'd said he didn't want to do anything until she was older, but how was this not a date? Trying not to blush, she stole a glance over her menu as he studied his own across the small table from her. He glanced up and caught her staring. "Do you know what you want? I was thinking the lamb," he asked, voice lowered.
"I, um, the price," she stuttered, not sure how to respond. She shut up, not wanting to sound like more of an idiot than she already was. She felt like a fraud, wearing clothing that Purity had picked out for her a little over a week ago, in a place she'd never even heard of, and her family would've never been able to afford.
Lee smiled at her in the way he occasionally did, pure affection like a spotlight shining on her, warming her face as it did odd things to her stomach. "Taylor, relax," he rumbled, pitching his voice low to keep quiet and just making it worse, the sound reverberating down her spine. "Even if we ordered the most expensive things on the menu, I'd make it back in ten minutes working with Quinn, maybe five. Your suggestion was good, and we've both been working hard this week. We deserve this."
She nodded, not trusting herself not to say something embarrassing, quickly hiding behind her menu. He wasn't wrong, she had been working to get Eclipse ready for full operations, and he was oddly insistent on everything being waterproof. . . no.
She nearly dropped her menu as things felt into place. An S-class threat was arriving, which was on par with an Endbringer. Except it wasn't going to be on par with an Endbringer, it was going to be an Endbringer!
"Leviathan!" she squeaked, looking over the table at him in shock. She broke out in a cold sweat, the world seeming to go quiet as she realized what was coming. She had to get out, warn someone, do something. Frozen, she just stared at him imploringly, hoping he had some plan, something that would justify not telling people.
He just smiled, and shook his head, "Should've figured you'd figure it out. Yes, Leviathan is attacking tomorrow. About noonish, not sure exactly when." She looked around, but everyone kept eating, talking, and not paying attention to this proclamation of doom at all. The only thing that seemed to change was that everything was just a bit quieter around them, though the insects farther away hadn't noticed anything. That meant it was. . . .
"You're keeping this quiet!" she accused, anger bubbling up. She didn't care what plan he had, people had to know.
He just laughed. "Depends on what you mean," he quipped, as if this was the time to make jokes! "I'm keeping us quiet because you were right, a nice dinner before everything goes to hell is just what we needed. Alexandria's going to be informed at two in the morning, giving the PRT anywhere between eight to fourteen hours to prepare. I think the most warning they've ever had before was twenty minutes. Hopefully I'm right about what's going to happen because of my actions."
She had no idea what that meant, but she had more important things to worry about. "My dad-"
"Is being taken to safety by Herb," he interrupted. "He'll wake up in pre-paid hotel room in Buffalo with a couple hundred dollars, and without his wallet, so he can't make it back here in time. I've written a note telling him that you're safe, and that you arranged for his safety in exchange for your assistance. It's up to you if you want to tell him if that was as Lady Bug or as an unpowered assistant that we hired. I'd suggest the former, but it's up to you."
Taylor breathed a sigh of relief. He had his secrets, and she knew why he didn't share them, even if she didn't like it, but she should've known he would've told people when it mattered. However, as she listened to him talk, a horrible thought came to her. Lee'd meant it to be nice, but since she'd. . . left home, her dad would take that much differently. He'd probably think that she'd been doing. . . things. Not that she didn't want to – focus Taylor – but it'd just make her dad worry more. "Okay, what'd I do wrong?" Lee asked, cutting across her thoughts.
"Nothing," she said quickly, still freaking out internally. How was she going to fix this?
"Taylor, you're not that good at hiding how you're feeling. It's one of the things I like about you but- damn, wait a sec. Figure out what you want to eat," he instructed as the world got a little louder, the waitress coming over to take their orders, giving her time to think about what to say.
After she left, Taylor took control of the conversation. She'd considered lying, but this had started by her not saying things. "Iranawayfromhome," she blurted out, adding, "sorry," lamely.
"Okaaaay," he replied, blinking. "Um. . . huh. . . why?" he asked after a long moment.
"I wasn't going to school," she explained, and he nodded, having already known and agreed with her doing that, "and I got busy doing other things, and he didn't notice I was gone, and I got distracted, and then I'd realized I'd hadn't been home in days, and if something happened I didn't want him hurt, and I already had a room with you at your base, and so I just took my stuff from my base and my room and moved out. Without telling him. Or you. Sorry," she apologized, the entire thing coming out in an unstoppable rush.
Lee stared at her, and she wasn't sure what he'd do. Would he make her leave the base? Would he kick her from the team? She knew he hated liars, and she had been lying to him for days. Would he-
"Okay."
She looked back at him, nonplussed. "Okay?" she echoed.
"Okay," he repeated, shrugging. "I mean, I'd preferred to have known about this earlier, so. . . oh, that's not gonna look good. Fuck it, too late to fix it now," he muttered to himself. "Okay. I mean, the entire secret identity thing, and him not noticing when things were so bad you triggered, and. . . it's a mess, just. . . a mess," he sighed, and she got the sense he was talking about more than her. "We'll figure out what to do. . . next week," he decided, and she could almost see the wheels spinning as he came up with a plan on the spot. "Next week. I don't like to lie, but this is one of those grey areas. You can tell your dad your working with us as a hero, or that you ran away from home and we took you in, and you've been helping out. I'd suggest the former as it will cut down on. . . unless he. . . fuck," he swore. "He would, wouldn't he?"
"He would what?" she asked, feeling like she was being left out of the conversation, despite being the only other person there. Lee glanced up at her, and she could practically feel his eyes pinning her from behind his shades.
"Taylor, if your dad found out you were a parahuman, how likely would he be to ignore everything you said and try to force you to quit the PD and join the Wards instead?" he asked intently.
She didn't want to believe her dad would do that. She didn't want to believe her dad would not notice that she hadn't been home either, but that had happened. "Fuck," she agreed. Her dad didn't care, until it was too late, then he cared too much, like when she'd gotten her powers. He'd been there for her, but she couldn't exactly tell him what was going on. He'd felt so bad about not being able to help that telling him what else had been happening, how she'd been too weak to just ignore them like you were supposed to. A dark part of her had thought it might've been too much for him, and she didn't know what she'd do if she lost her dad too.
Finding out she had powers, that she was in danger, he'd lose it. He'd either try to make her stay home, which wasn't going to happen, or he'd go after Lee, who had enough problems without her making more. "Do I have to tell him anything?" she asked.
Lee thought about it. "Technically, no. You should though. He's your dad, and he does care about you," he reminded her, and she felt ashamed. "Plus, you are fifteen, he's got to be worrying about you. I know I would be."
She wasn't sure how to take that last bit, so she did what she'd been learning to do with her feelings around Lee and ignored it. "Can I just tell him I've been working for you? Like, without powers?"
From the movement of his head, he was obviously rolling his eyes. "No Taylor, I suggested that because it wasn't an option. Sure, let's go with that. Anything else you want to drop on me, so we can get it over with?" he asked sardonically.
"No, that was it," she shrugged, trying to remember what they were talking about. "Wait, you're complaining about me not telling you things when you were hiding-" she hesitated, continuing in a whisper "Leviathan!"
"Hiding is a strong- no, no that's actually pretty accurate," he corrected before she could say anything. "Also, whispering draws the eye, just speak normally, they won't hear us. Okay, so, Endbringers," he said tone colored with disgust instead of the fear anyone else would've expressed about them. "There is so much bullshit going on with them, and that's assuming everything I've heard, will hear about them, is true, which it probably isn't. Due to the. . . circumstances of what allowed us to come here to help, Herb, Charlie, and I are pretty much Endbringer Bait until we throw down with at least one of them."
"Charlie?" she asked, having so many questions.
"Huh? Oh, Æonic. He's my little brother," he revealed, as if this wasn't incredibly important. "He's a bit of a brat, but a good kid. Also just a bit older than you. Anyway-"
"No," she cut him off, "don't just 'anyways'. He's your brother? The leader of Bell Tolls?" She'd thought she'd figured Lee out, that she'd understood what was going on, and then he just dropped a bomb like this? What was next? He was he had a second group he was running? He was friends with Scion? He was secretly three midgets in a trench coat? She just didn't know anymore.
"Yes?" Lee asked, confused, not seeing the problem with running a Hero Team while his brother was leading a Supervillain Gang. "And?"
"And?" she parroted. "Aren't you worried that you'll have to take him down? Arrest your own family?" She tried to think what she'd do if her dad was secretly a villain, and she had no idea what she'd do.
He cocked his head in confusion, "I don't see why."
"He's a villain," she stressed.
"So is Herb. Still not seeing why."
"But he's not really," she scoffed. "He is."
Lee held up a finger. "Herb's not really, but Charlie is? We've got two he's, both of which claim to be villains."
"Æonic is a villain," she clarified, annoyed that he was trying to stall. "He's got a villain gang. He does villain things. Herb doesn't!"
"Well yes, but actually no. We've talked about it, and he's going to be doing it correctly." She just stared at him incredulously, wondering what the hell he meant by that. "Okay, hear me out. People are going to do things that are illegal, mostly because half of the things that are illegal are illegal because someone decided to legislate to control, instead of to protect, despite whatever excuse they used at the time. Before the seventies drug use was frowned upon, but if you look at the history most anti-drug laws were usually passed to punish one group or another to try to engineer society. Anti-opium laws were made specifically to target the Chinese, anti-cocaine laws to target black men, and anti-marijuana laws to target Hispanics, who were all the primary users of the substance at the time the respective laws were passed."
"So, what, drugs are okay?" she asked hesitantly. She hadn't expected him to start supporting the Merchants out of nowhere, but she'd listened to him, well, rant for long enough she assumed he had a point.
"What? God no. Even if I could use them I wouldn't," he replied immediately, quieting down as their food arrived.
"If you could use them?" she asked once the waitress left.
"Okay, so, eat, but just know that in addition to heat, I'm also immune to acid, disease, and poison, which drugs count as," he listed off. "Even if I wanted to get high, I couldn't. I'll explain, but first, let's eat."
She had so many questions, but indulged him and quickly became distracted, trying to understand exactly what she was eating and why it was so good. Her first thought was powers, but when she suggested it, he just laughed. "No Taylor, just skill and high-quality ingredients," he'd told her smugly. "There's a reason this costs as much as it does.
When they were about half-done, he said, "Okay, right, what were we talking about?"
It took her a moment to remember having been distracted by the panoply of flavors which had danced their way across her palate. "Um, you were defending the Merchants?"
Lee looked at her, confused, "Why would I. . . oh, right. Drug laws. No, fuck the Merchants. I mean, don't. You'll catch something," he joked, but it fell flat as she was trying to figure out where he was going. "Right, so you have a bunch of things that people want to do, like gambling, drugs, prostitution, so on, but they don't intrinsically hurt anyone."
He held up a hand, forestalling her questions. "It's not the acts themselves that are harmful, but the things that tend to go hand in hand with them. I wouldn't do them because I can do math, like remaining in control, and find the act of sex without any form of love just wrong, but just because I wouldn't do them doesn't mean that I should stop anyone else from doing so."
"You, what?" she asked, having stopped listening halfway through his explanation when he'd mentioned prostitution being okay. She got it, he was a guy, but still.
"If it couldn't work, then Las Vegas wouldn't work, and it does. Well, sort of," he hedged, not stopping. "But because it's illegal, you can't exactly go to the police without being punished yourself, so a lot of really messed up practices become common, well, practice. However, if you have someone moral in charge with the power to not be run out of business by evil assholes, it doesn't have to be bad. Follow the Amsterdam model where drugs are regulated, maybe have on-site medical staff for the harder stuff. Prostitution is voluntary, with stringent health guidelines, and a place where both the clients and staff feel safe."
"Feel safe?" she said, a little annoyed that all she was doing was repeating what Lee was saying.
"The guys, or occasionally girls, soliciting the prostitutes are many times just as scared of being attacked and robbed as the girls, or occasionally guys, that they're hiring. Or so I've heard, it's not something I actually have any experience with," he added, which made her feel better for reasons she didn't want to examine. "So, as long as Æonic handles it well, I won't care, having more important things to take care of."
"Oh," she replied, searching for a safer topic of conversation. "So, um, Leviathan? You said you were Endbringer Bait? What does that mean?"
"We're going to have to deal with Levi gunning for us. That's. . . okay that's gonna suck, but it's doable. No, really, it is," he reiterated as she just stared at him.
"Leviathan is going to try to kill you personally?" she whispered. How could he be so calm about this? She'd looked up videos of all three, trying to understand exactly what fighting a class S threat meant, and they all tore through heroes like they weren't powered at all!
He laughed, laughed! "Taylor, the problem isn't going to be surviving, it's going to be surviving as Vejovis. It's why you're going to be running the 'converter' for Amy."
He was talking about the device he'd figured out with her and Panacea's help. Device was a strong term. It was a box. A fancy box, but still a box. Taylor would direct insects inside and they'd be 'converted' into bio-slurry, which Panacea could then use as a base material to heal people's wound in a fraction of the time it normally took her. Really Taylor would just collect them into a bowl inside the shoebox sized device, and Panacea would put her hand in it, melting the bugs and taking a handful of the somehow still alive goop. It looked like Tinkertech, with a switch that lit up the outside while making it hum, and it had the Arachne Assemblages logo, but it was just a box.
She'd been annoyed that it'd require her to stay next to the girl who obviously had a thing for her teammate, but if it was that or fight Leviathan, it wasn't so bad. But that meant that he'd be fighting an Endbringer. Something else he'd said filtered through her memory. "You said you couldn't tell anyone what was coming or else it might make it worse. How could it be worse than an Endbringer?"
Lee shrugged helplessly. "He could've arrived earlier, he could've stopped sandbagging, he could've brought his siblings," he rattled off.
Taylor made a noise of distressed frustration, having reached the point where words just didn't express what she was feeling. If they'd been holding back, that suggested a whole host of terrible things. On top of that she tried to consider more than one Endbringer attacking, and just couldn't. There wouldn't be a Brockton Bay left!
He sighed, "Sorry, I'm good at tactics, good at experimentation, bad at managing secrets. Or, well, not really secrets, just talking to people. It isn't so bad, honest. Okay. So. In order: Having him show up early would be bad, as the more time I had to get ready, the more likely I'd survive the fight, along with everyone I care about, like Amy, Vicky, and you." She appreciated him saying so, but felt annoyed that she was at the end of the list. She nodded, signaling him to go on.
"Second of all, holy crap are the Endbringers holding back. Behemoth doesn't have to be slow, The Simurgh doesn't need to scream, and Levi. . . I don't know, but it won't be good," he admitted. "They're not trying to destroy; I think they're trying to test us. I'm pretty sure that's why no-one Triggers during an Endbringer attack, when you'd think that's when the most people would be in the kind of 'abandon all hope, about to die' situation that triggers, well, Trigger Events. The more prep time we have, the harder Levi might go. Or maybe not. I really don't understand what Endbringers are, though I probably understand more than pretty much anyone else on Earth Bet."
That made. . . sense. Too much sense. She'd looked into Trigger Events after she'd had her own, and there was a lot of confusion, but most of the research said things had to get bad, and what was worse than an Endbringer attacking? "And the third?" she asked, not certain she wanted the answer.
"There's three of us that are targeted by Endbringers. There's three Endbringers. If that happens, take Amy and run," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. "I don't care what she says, you get away and you get her to safety. I can trust that you'll be smart about it, but she might not be. If Eclipse is still intact, go there after the fight, but during? Run. Don't hide in shelters, don't try to help, just run. I'll probably still survive, but there's no way I'm keeping Vejovis intact."
She didn't reply, turning over what he just said. All three attacking at once was a nightmare scenario, the kind of thing she hadn't even considered, the kind that almost no one but the most pessimistic people out there probably had planned for. If he said he'd still be able to survive, she really didn't have a choice but believe him. His talking about 'keeping Vejovis intact', while a weird way of saying it, did make her feel better. That he was going to handicap himself during an Endbringer attack was insane, but the way he was talking about it he was sure that he'd survive, just that he might need to use more powers than he was supposed to have as Vejovis.
"Okay," she agreed, not sure what else to say. "I will."
"Thanks," he sighed, looking like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. "Tomorrow's gonna suck, but this. . . this is really nice. We should do this again, though if we don't recruit a chef we're probably going to need to go to Boston."
"How bad is, was, will it be?" she asked, looking around at the people who had no idea what was coming. Was this what it was like to be Lee all the time? she wondered. She didn't like it, and wished she could help, but she had no idea how, and focused back on him, clarifying, "After tomorrow?"
"Following the original timeline? Half the city's wrecked," he shrugged. "Most of the funds to help rebuild the city are diverted because of corruption and only downtown is really patched up. You were still with the Undersiders, having tried to do the undercover thing only for Armsdick to try to brand you a villain, his own malfeasance undercutting him but putting you firmly on the side of villainy, as far as the PRT was concerned. Idiots," he snorted. "Like you'd actually be a villain."
If she hadn't seen it herself, she wouldn't've believed him, but having Armsmaster, one of her favorite heroes growing up, turn on her like he had? It'd hurt. She wasn't stupid, she knew she'd joined Lee's group because she was mad at the Protectorate, but she'd chosen him, and she wasn't going to back out now. She knew she could, if she wanted to. Lee'd be hurt, but he'd let her. That was just the way he was.
"Each of you claimed a lot of territory individually and you tried to help out the people in the area you'd taken over," he said, and that didn't sound like something she'd do. The claiming territory thing, if she had taken over an area, she'd like to believe she would've helped the people there.
"Did," she hesitated. "Did I do a good job?"
He thought about it, which wasn't a good sign. "Yes," he said after far too long. "You had no idea what you were doing, had no direction whatsoever, and the reputation that others had built up around you hurt more than helped, but for what you knew and what you were given, you did good. Could you have done better? Yeah, but you had no support and even from your own team. Tattletale could've easily helped set things up, but with the Teeth, the Fallen, and Accord all moving in; the Slaughterhouse Nine coming calling, nearly killing half the city; and the PRT deciding that while they weren't going to help people, they'd be damned if they let Villains help innocent civilians, you were kinda busy."
"Oh. . . okay," she said. That had been. . . fair. She knew the Fallen went to places that Endbringer went, so that made sense, and, with the power vacuum the ABB left, Teeth coming back and Accord coming up from Boston made sense too. She'd always thought that Lee's dislike of the Protectorate, which is what he always meant when he said PRT, was a bit much, but if they were stopping people from helping after an Endbringer attack, he might have a point. "Wait, is that why you've been having me get everything running?" she asked. "We're going public after tomorrow?"
"We'll start expanding, we won't go public until after the. . . no, they have Cherish. Damn. Yeah, after tomorrow. We'll need to figure out how we're doing it, maybe tap Sarah to vet upper level staff? Hmm. . . ." he trailed off.
"Okay, yeah," he said, slowly nodding. "I've got some ideas, but we can handle that this weekend. More than that, I'll have Dryad use her powers to quickly build shelters and facilities for those who've been displaced and I've been stockpiling food to help supply kitchens. I've got some designs from a contact for those, and that'll help get things back on task in a fraction of the time. I'll probably buy up the area around the base right after the attack, since anyone with sense will be dumping what they see as bad investments, but after that I'll get to work restoring the city. I'll definitely need your help there, Taylor," he smiled warmly.
"Um, I control bugs. How could I help?" she asked. She wanted to help. To make the city like it used to be was something her dad and fought for for years, but other than making sure a place was bug-free, she wasn't that useful.
He looked at her incredulously. "Seriously? You control an immense workforce that can do the most finicky of detail work with ease. You can't handle things that require brute strength, yet, but that's what you have other people for. You could have ants dragging electrical wires, termites boring the holes to drag said wires through, and who knows what else?"
Like a lot of things Lee said, he sounded crazy until you really thought about it. Now that he had said it, though, she could see how to do so easily. She'd learned more about how to repair, replace, and sometimes re-install all sorts of things than she'd ever thought possible in the last week. That meant he'd planned this, and just hadn't told her. "Why didn't you say so?" she asked, annoyed.
"Say what?" he asked back blankly. "You've been using them to do that all week. The only difference would be that you'd be building from scratch instead of repairing things."
She started to object, but didn't really have anything to say, taking a bite of her risotto instead. Then another, because she still didn't have anything to say. "This is really good," she said, just to move on from her being stupid.
"Yeah, I never took Amy to a place like this when we got dinner," he commented idly, causing her mental processes to crash to a halt.
"You went on d- you took Panacea out to dinner?" she asked, catching herself.
"Yeah, during the Bakuda Bombings. She would've worked herself to the breaking point otherwise. Never somewhere as nice as here though," he mused, glancing around.
"Oh, okay," she replied feeling better.
"Should I?"
"Should you what?" She questioned, hoping to take the hint. Like usual, he didn't.
"Should I take her someplace like this, or here, assuming this place is still in business," he explained.
"No!" she blurted out, getting an inquisitive look from Lee. "Not here, it'd look weird, taking different girls to the same place," she explained, trying to play it cool.
"Fair enough," he shrugged, buying it and turning back to his food.
"This has been a good week," he said, more to himself than her. "Peaceful." She looked up at him, and he continued, "It's the first week since I've arrived that I haven't killed someone."
She. . . didn't have any response to that. "Before the Truce, who. . .?"
"Merchants and Nazis that tried to kill me first. Not having to do that was. . . nice. After everything, it was getting to be a bit much," he admitted, his tone oddly fragile, only for a moment. He continued, once again as confident as he normally was, "It's been good to get everyone else up to snuff. Well, closer. I even got some training time in. Thanks for the suggestions, by the way."
"It wasn't anything special," she muttered. It'd just made sense that if he'd made her and Glory Girl Orichalcum weapons, he'd make one for himself. The fact that he hadn't was pure Lee. It'd taken them a bit to figure out the spiral pattern was the source of the effect that made it hit so much harder. That and layering it with his costume so he could hide it when he didn't want to hit that hard. She still hadn't believed it would be that effective until he launched that train-car upwards with a single punch that wasn't using one of his 'special' shields. She wondered if it ever came down, but that's why he'd arced it towards the bay.
"Between that, increasing my shields to sixteen, and my work with my Aerokinesis, I think I'll do well," he declared. "Or at least, you know, not have to out myself as having more powers to keep from dying." He grinned, "Though there's one thing I'm looking forward to."
"In an Endbringer attack?" she asked, incredulous.
"Yeah. I try not to copy the powers of heroes, but there's going to be a lot of people who don't meet that qualification that are going to be fighting. Levi's my focus, but that's gonna be one hell of a windfall."
I can't believe he said yes.
Taylor sat in her seat in the well-lit restaurant, looking at a menu whose prices made her wince, not sure what to do now. She'd thrown it out expecting him to say no, because of course he would, but he'd just looked thoughtful, smiled, and said that going out for dinner the night before everything happened was a great idea. Ten minutes after that he'd told her he'd made the reservation for tomorrow, and to dress business casual. She had no idea what that had meant, but Herb helped her find something nice to wear, though she'd wished he hadn't laughed so much.
Now she was here, having dinner with Lee, in what was absolutely a romantic setting. He'd said he didn't want to do anything until she was older, but how was this not a date? Trying not to blush, she stole a glance over her menu as he studied his own across the small table from her. He glanced up and caught her staring. "Do you know what you want? I was thinking the lamb," he asked, voice lowered.
"I, um, the price," she stuttered, not sure how to respond. She shut up, not wanting to sound like more of an idiot than she already was. She felt like a fraud, wearing clothing that Purity had picked out for her a little over a week ago, in a place she'd never even heard of, and her family would've never been able to afford.
Lee smiled at her in the way he occasionally did, pure affection like a spotlight shining on her, warming her face as it did odd things to her stomach. "Taylor, relax," he rumbled, pitching his voice low to keep quiet and just making it worse, the sound reverberating down her spine. "Even if we ordered the most expensive things on the menu, I'd make it back in ten minutes working with Quinn, maybe five. Your suggestion was good, and we've both been working hard this week. We deserve this."
She nodded, not trusting herself not to say something embarrassing, quickly hiding behind her menu. He wasn't wrong, she had been working to get Eclipse ready for full operations, and he was oddly insistent on everything being waterproof. . . no.
She nearly dropped her menu as things felt into place. An S-class threat was arriving, which was on par with an Endbringer. Except it wasn't going to be on par with an Endbringer, it was going to be an Endbringer!
"Leviathan!" she squeaked, looking over the table at him in shock. She broke out in a cold sweat, the world seeming to go quiet as she realized what was coming. She had to get out, warn someone, do something. Frozen, she just stared at him imploringly, hoping he had some plan, something that would justify not telling people.
He just smiled, and shook his head, "Should've figured you'd figure it out. Yes, Leviathan is attacking tomorrow. About noonish, not sure exactly when." She looked around, but everyone kept eating, talking, and not paying attention to this proclamation of doom at all. The only thing that seemed to change was that everything was just a bit quieter around them, though the insects farther away hadn't noticed anything. That meant it was. . . .
"You're keeping this quiet!" she accused, anger bubbling up. She didn't care what plan he had, people had to know.
He just laughed. "Depends on what you mean," he quipped, as if this was the time to make jokes! "I'm keeping us quiet because you were right, a nice dinner before everything goes to hell is just what we needed. Alexandria's going to be informed at two in the morning, giving the PRT anywhere between eight to fourteen hours to prepare. I think the most warning they've ever had before was twenty minutes. Hopefully I'm right about what's going to happen because of my actions."
She had no idea what that meant, but she had more important things to worry about. "My dad-"
"Is being taken to safety by Herb," he interrupted. "He'll wake up in pre-paid hotel room in Buffalo with a couple hundred dollars, and without his wallet, so he can't make it back here in time. I've written a note telling him that you're safe, and that you arranged for his safety in exchange for your assistance. It's up to you if you want to tell him if that was as Lady Bug or as an unpowered assistant that we hired. I'd suggest the former, but it's up to you."
Taylor breathed a sigh of relief. He had his secrets, and she knew why he didn't share them, even if she didn't like it, but she should've known he would've told people when it mattered. However, as she listened to him talk, a horrible thought came to her. Lee'd meant it to be nice, but since she'd. . . left home, her dad would take that much differently. He'd probably think that she'd been doing. . . things. Not that she didn't want to – focus Taylor – but it'd just make her dad worry more. "Okay, what'd I do wrong?" Lee asked, cutting across her thoughts.
"Nothing," she said quickly, still freaking out internally. How was she going to fix this?
"Taylor, you're not that good at hiding how you're feeling. It's one of the things I like about you but- damn, wait a sec. Figure out what you want to eat," he instructed as the world got a little louder, the waitress coming over to take their orders, giving her time to think about what to say.
After she left, Taylor took control of the conversation. She'd considered lying, but this had started by her not saying things. "Iranawayfromhome," she blurted out, adding, "sorry," lamely.
"Okaaaay," he replied, blinking. "Um. . . huh. . . why?" he asked after a long moment.
"I wasn't going to school," she explained, and he nodded, having already known and agreed with her doing that, "and I got busy doing other things, and he didn't notice I was gone, and I got distracted, and then I'd realized I'd hadn't been home in days, and if something happened I didn't want him hurt, and I already had a room with you at your base, and so I just took my stuff from my base and my room and moved out. Without telling him. Or you. Sorry," she apologized, the entire thing coming out in an unstoppable rush.
Lee stared at her, and she wasn't sure what he'd do. Would he make her leave the base? Would he kick her from the team? She knew he hated liars, and she had been lying to him for days. Would he-
"Okay."
She looked back at him, nonplussed. "Okay?" she echoed.
"Okay," he repeated, shrugging. "I mean, I'd preferred to have known about this earlier, so. . . oh, that's not gonna look good. Fuck it, too late to fix it now," he muttered to himself. "Okay. I mean, the entire secret identity thing, and him not noticing when things were so bad you triggered, and. . . it's a mess, just. . . a mess," he sighed, and she got the sense he was talking about more than her. "We'll figure out what to do. . . next week," he decided, and she could almost see the wheels spinning as he came up with a plan on the spot. "Next week. I don't like to lie, but this is one of those grey areas. You can tell your dad your working with us as a hero, or that you ran away from home and we took you in, and you've been helping out. I'd suggest the former as it will cut down on. . . unless he. . . fuck," he swore. "He would, wouldn't he?"
"He would what?" she asked, feeling like she was being left out of the conversation, despite being the only other person there. Lee glanced up at her, and she could practically feel his eyes pinning her from behind his shades.
"Taylor, if your dad found out you were a parahuman, how likely would he be to ignore everything you said and try to force you to quit the PD and join the Wards instead?" he asked intently.
She didn't want to believe her dad would do that. She didn't want to believe her dad would not notice that she hadn't been home either, but that had happened. "Fuck," she agreed. Her dad didn't care, until it was too late, then he cared too much, like when she'd gotten her powers. He'd been there for her, but she couldn't exactly tell him what was going on. He'd felt so bad about not being able to help that telling him what else had been happening, how she'd been too weak to just ignore them like you were supposed to. A dark part of her had thought it might've been too much for him, and she didn't know what she'd do if she lost her dad too.
Finding out she had powers, that she was in danger, he'd lose it. He'd either try to make her stay home, which wasn't going to happen, or he'd go after Lee, who had enough problems without her making more. "Do I have to tell him anything?" she asked.
Lee thought about it. "Technically, no. You should though. He's your dad, and he does care about you," he reminded her, and she felt ashamed. "Plus, you are fifteen, he's got to be worrying about you. I know I would be."
She wasn't sure how to take that last bit, so she did what she'd been learning to do with her feelings around Lee and ignored it. "Can I just tell him I've been working for you? Like, without powers?"
From the movement of his head, he was obviously rolling his eyes. "No Taylor, I suggested that because it wasn't an option. Sure, let's go with that. Anything else you want to drop on me, so we can get it over with?" he asked sardonically.
"No, that was it," she shrugged, trying to remember what they were talking about. "Wait, you're complaining about me not telling you things when you were hiding-" she hesitated, continuing in a whisper "Leviathan!"
"Hiding is a strong- no, no that's actually pretty accurate," he corrected before she could say anything. "Also, whispering draws the eye, just speak normally, they won't hear us. Okay, so, Endbringers," he said tone colored with disgust instead of the fear anyone else would've expressed about them. "There is so much bullshit going on with them, and that's assuming everything I've heard, will hear about them, is true, which it probably isn't. Due to the. . . circumstances of what allowed us to come here to help, Herb, Charlie, and I are pretty much Endbringer Bait until we throw down with at least one of them."
"Charlie?" she asked, having so many questions.
"Huh? Oh, Æonic. He's my little brother," he revealed, as if this wasn't incredibly important. "He's a bit of a brat, but a good kid. Also just a bit older than you. Anyway-"
"No," she cut him off, "don't just 'anyways'. He's your brother? The leader of Bell Tolls?" She'd thought she'd figured Lee out, that she'd understood what was going on, and then he just dropped a bomb like this? What was next? He was he had a second group he was running? He was friends with Scion? He was secretly three midgets in a trench coat? She just didn't know anymore.
"Yes?" Lee asked, confused, not seeing the problem with running a Hero Team while his brother was leading a Supervillain Gang. "And?"
"And?" she parroted. "Aren't you worried that you'll have to take him down? Arrest your own family?" She tried to think what she'd do if her dad was secretly a villain, and she had no idea what she'd do.
He cocked his head in confusion, "I don't see why."
"He's a villain," she stressed.
"So is Herb. Still not seeing why."
"But he's not really," she scoffed. "He is."
Lee held up a finger. "Herb's not really, but Charlie is? We've got two he's, both of which claim to be villains."
"Æonic is a villain," she clarified, annoyed that he was trying to stall. "He's got a villain gang. He does villain things. Herb doesn't!"
"Well yes, but actually no. We've talked about it, and he's going to be doing it correctly." She just stared at him incredulously, wondering what the hell he meant by that. "Okay, hear me out. People are going to do things that are illegal, mostly because half of the things that are illegal are illegal because someone decided to legislate to control, instead of to protect, despite whatever excuse they used at the time. Before the seventies drug use was frowned upon, but if you look at the history most anti-drug laws were usually passed to punish one group or another to try to engineer society. Anti-opium laws were made specifically to target the Chinese, anti-cocaine laws to target black men, and anti-marijuana laws to target Hispanics, who were all the primary users of the substance at the time the respective laws were passed."
"So, what, drugs are okay?" she asked hesitantly. She hadn't expected him to start supporting the Merchants out of nowhere, but she'd listened to him, well, rant for long enough she assumed he had a point.
"What? God no. Even if I could use them I wouldn't," he replied immediately, quieting down as their food arrived.
"If you could use them?" she asked once the waitress left.
"Okay, so, eat, but just know that in addition to heat, I'm also immune to acid, disease, and poison, which drugs count as," he listed off. "Even if I wanted to get high, I couldn't. I'll explain, but first, let's eat."
She had so many questions, but indulged him and quickly became distracted, trying to understand exactly what she was eating and why it was so good. Her first thought was powers, but when she suggested it, he just laughed. "No Taylor, just skill and high-quality ingredients," he'd told her smugly. "There's a reason this costs as much as it does.
When they were about half-done, he said, "Okay, right, what were we talking about?"
It took her a moment to remember having been distracted by the panoply of flavors which had danced their way across her palate. "Um, you were defending the Merchants?"
Lee looked at her, confused, "Why would I. . . oh, right. Drug laws. No, fuck the Merchants. I mean, don't. You'll catch something," he joked, but it fell flat as she was trying to figure out where he was going. "Right, so you have a bunch of things that people want to do, like gambling, drugs, prostitution, so on, but they don't intrinsically hurt anyone."
He held up a hand, forestalling her questions. "It's not the acts themselves that are harmful, but the things that tend to go hand in hand with them. I wouldn't do them because I can do math, like remaining in control, and find the act of sex without any form of love just wrong, but just because I wouldn't do them doesn't mean that I should stop anyone else from doing so."
"You, what?" she asked, having stopped listening halfway through his explanation when he'd mentioned prostitution being okay. She got it, he was a guy, but still.
"If it couldn't work, then Las Vegas wouldn't work, and it does. Well, sort of," he hedged, not stopping. "But because it's illegal, you can't exactly go to the police without being punished yourself, so a lot of really messed up practices become common, well, practice. However, if you have someone moral in charge with the power to not be run out of business by evil assholes, it doesn't have to be bad. Follow the Amsterdam model where drugs are regulated, maybe have on-site medical staff for the harder stuff. Prostitution is voluntary, with stringent health guidelines, and a place where both the clients and staff feel safe."
"Feel safe?" she said, a little annoyed that all she was doing was repeating what Lee was saying.
"The guys, or occasionally girls, soliciting the prostitutes are many times just as scared of being attacked and robbed as the girls, or occasionally guys, that they're hiring. Or so I've heard, it's not something I actually have any experience with," he added, which made her feel better for reasons she didn't want to examine. "So, as long as Æonic handles it well, I won't care, having more important things to take care of."
"Oh," she replied, searching for a safer topic of conversation. "So, um, Leviathan? You said you were Endbringer Bait? What does that mean?"
"We're going to have to deal with Levi gunning for us. That's. . . okay that's gonna suck, but it's doable. No, really, it is," he reiterated as she just stared at him.
"Leviathan is going to try to kill you personally?" she whispered. How could he be so calm about this? She'd looked up videos of all three, trying to understand exactly what fighting a class S threat meant, and they all tore through heroes like they weren't powered at all!
He laughed, laughed! "Taylor, the problem isn't going to be surviving, it's going to be surviving as Vejovis. It's why you're going to be running the 'converter' for Amy."
He was talking about the device he'd figured out with her and Panacea's help. Device was a strong term. It was a box. A fancy box, but still a box. Taylor would direct insects inside and they'd be 'converted' into bio-slurry, which Panacea could then use as a base material to heal people's wound in a fraction of the time it normally took her. Really Taylor would just collect them into a bowl inside the shoebox sized device, and Panacea would put her hand in it, melting the bugs and taking a handful of the somehow still alive goop. It looked like Tinkertech, with a switch that lit up the outside while making it hum, and it had the Arachne Assemblages logo, but it was just a box.
She'd been annoyed that it'd require her to stay next to the girl who obviously had a thing for her teammate, but if it was that or fight Leviathan, it wasn't so bad. But that meant that he'd be fighting an Endbringer. Something else he'd said filtered through her memory. "You said you couldn't tell anyone what was coming or else it might make it worse. How could it be worse than an Endbringer?"
Lee shrugged helplessly. "He could've arrived earlier, he could've stopped sandbagging, he could've brought his siblings," he rattled off.
Taylor made a noise of distressed frustration, having reached the point where words just didn't express what she was feeling. If they'd been holding back, that suggested a whole host of terrible things. On top of that she tried to consider more than one Endbringer attacking, and just couldn't. There wouldn't be a Brockton Bay left!
He sighed, "Sorry, I'm good at tactics, good at experimentation, bad at managing secrets. Or, well, not really secrets, just talking to people. It isn't so bad, honest. Okay. So. In order: Having him show up early would be bad, as the more time I had to get ready, the more likely I'd survive the fight, along with everyone I care about, like Amy, Vicky, and you." She appreciated him saying so, but felt annoyed that she was at the end of the list. She nodded, signaling him to go on.
"Second of all, holy crap are the Endbringers holding back. Behemoth doesn't have to be slow, The Simurgh doesn't need to scream, and Levi. . . I don't know, but it won't be good," he admitted. "They're not trying to destroy; I think they're trying to test us. I'm pretty sure that's why no-one Triggers during an Endbringer attack, when you'd think that's when the most people would be in the kind of 'abandon all hope, about to die' situation that triggers, well, Trigger Events. The more prep time we have, the harder Levi might go. Or maybe not. I really don't understand what Endbringers are, though I probably understand more than pretty much anyone else on Earth Bet."
That made. . . sense. Too much sense. She'd looked into Trigger Events after she'd had her own, and there was a lot of confusion, but most of the research said things had to get bad, and what was worse than an Endbringer attacking? "And the third?" she asked, not certain she wanted the answer.
"There's three of us that are targeted by Endbringers. There's three Endbringers. If that happens, take Amy and run," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. "I don't care what she says, you get away and you get her to safety. I can trust that you'll be smart about it, but she might not be. If Eclipse is still intact, go there after the fight, but during? Run. Don't hide in shelters, don't try to help, just run. I'll probably still survive, but there's no way I'm keeping Vejovis intact."
She didn't reply, turning over what he just said. All three attacking at once was a nightmare scenario, the kind of thing she hadn't even considered, the kind that almost no one but the most pessimistic people out there probably had planned for. If he said he'd still be able to survive, she really didn't have a choice but believe him. His talking about 'keeping Vejovis intact', while a weird way of saying it, did make her feel better. That he was going to handicap himself during an Endbringer attack was insane, but the way he was talking about it he was sure that he'd survive, just that he might need to use more powers than he was supposed to have as Vejovis.
"Okay," she agreed, not sure what else to say. "I will."
"Thanks," he sighed, looking like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. "Tomorrow's gonna suck, but this. . . this is really nice. We should do this again, though if we don't recruit a chef we're probably going to need to go to Boston."
"How bad is, was, will it be?" she asked, looking around at the people who had no idea what was coming. Was this what it was like to be Lee all the time? she wondered. She didn't like it, and wished she could help, but she had no idea how, and focused back on him, clarifying, "After tomorrow?"
"Following the original timeline? Half the city's wrecked," he shrugged. "Most of the funds to help rebuild the city are diverted because of corruption and only downtown is really patched up. You were still with the Undersiders, having tried to do the undercover thing only for Armsdick to try to brand you a villain, his own malfeasance undercutting him but putting you firmly on the side of villainy, as far as the PRT was concerned. Idiots," he snorted. "Like you'd actually be a villain."
If she hadn't seen it herself, she wouldn't've believed him, but having Armsmaster, one of her favorite heroes growing up, turn on her like he had? It'd hurt. She wasn't stupid, she knew she'd joined Lee's group because she was mad at the Protectorate, but she'd chosen him, and she wasn't going to back out now. She knew she could, if she wanted to. Lee'd be hurt, but he'd let her. That was just the way he was.
"Each of you claimed a lot of territory individually and you tried to help out the people in the area you'd taken over," he said, and that didn't sound like something she'd do. The claiming territory thing, if she had taken over an area, she'd like to believe she would've helped the people there.
"Did," she hesitated. "Did I do a good job?"
He thought about it, which wasn't a good sign. "Yes," he said after far too long. "You had no idea what you were doing, had no direction whatsoever, and the reputation that others had built up around you hurt more than helped, but for what you knew and what you were given, you did good. Could you have done better? Yeah, but you had no support and even from your own team. Tattletale could've easily helped set things up, but with the Teeth, the Fallen, and Accord all moving in; the Slaughterhouse Nine coming calling, nearly killing half the city; and the PRT deciding that while they weren't going to help people, they'd be damned if they let Villains help innocent civilians, you were kinda busy."
"Oh. . . okay," she said. That had been. . . fair. She knew the Fallen went to places that Endbringer went, so that made sense, and, with the power vacuum the ABB left, Teeth coming back and Accord coming up from Boston made sense too. She'd always thought that Lee's dislike of the Protectorate, which is what he always meant when he said PRT, was a bit much, but if they were stopping people from helping after an Endbringer attack, he might have a point. "Wait, is that why you've been having me get everything running?" she asked. "We're going public after tomorrow?"
"We'll start expanding, we won't go public until after the. . . no, they have Cherish. Damn. Yeah, after tomorrow. We'll need to figure out how we're doing it, maybe tap Sarah to vet upper level staff? Hmm. . . ." he trailed off.
"Okay, yeah," he said, slowly nodding. "I've got some ideas, but we can handle that this weekend. More than that, I'll have Dryad use her powers to quickly build shelters and facilities for those who've been displaced and I've been stockpiling food to help supply kitchens. I've got some designs from a contact for those, and that'll help get things back on task in a fraction of the time. I'll probably buy up the area around the base right after the attack, since anyone with sense will be dumping what they see as bad investments, but after that I'll get to work restoring the city. I'll definitely need your help there, Taylor," he smiled warmly.
"Um, I control bugs. How could I help?" she asked. She wanted to help. To make the city like it used to be was something her dad and fought for for years, but other than making sure a place was bug-free, she wasn't that useful.
He looked at her incredulously. "Seriously? You control an immense workforce that can do the most finicky of detail work with ease. You can't handle things that require brute strength, yet, but that's what you have other people for. You could have ants dragging electrical wires, termites boring the holes to drag said wires through, and who knows what else?"
Like a lot of things Lee said, he sounded crazy until you really thought about it. Now that he had said it, though, she could see how to do so easily. She'd learned more about how to repair, replace, and sometimes re-install all sorts of things than she'd ever thought possible in the last week. That meant he'd planned this, and just hadn't told her. "Why didn't you say so?" she asked, annoyed.
"Say what?" he asked back blankly. "You've been using them to do that all week. The only difference would be that you'd be building from scratch instead of repairing things."
She started to object, but didn't really have anything to say, taking a bite of her risotto instead. Then another, because she still didn't have anything to say. "This is really good," she said, just to move on from her being stupid.
"Yeah, I never took Amy to a place like this when we got dinner," he commented idly, causing her mental processes to crash to a halt.
"You went on d- you took Panacea out to dinner?" she asked, catching herself.
"Yeah, during the Bakuda Bombings. She would've worked herself to the breaking point otherwise. Never somewhere as nice as here though," he mused, glancing around.
"Oh, okay," she replied feeling better.
"Should I?"
"Should you what?" She questioned, hoping to take the hint. Like usual, he didn't.
"Should I take her someplace like this, or here, assuming this place is still in business," he explained.
"No!" she blurted out, getting an inquisitive look from Lee. "Not here, it'd look weird, taking different girls to the same place," she explained, trying to play it cool.
"Fair enough," he shrugged, buying it and turning back to his food.
"This has been a good week," he said, more to himself than her. "Peaceful." She looked up at him, and he continued, "It's the first week since I've arrived that I haven't killed someone."
She. . . didn't have any response to that. "Before the Truce, who. . .?"
"Merchants and Nazis that tried to kill me first. Not having to do that was. . . nice. After everything, it was getting to be a bit much," he admitted, his tone oddly fragile, only for a moment. He continued, once again as confident as he normally was, "It's been good to get everyone else up to snuff. Well, closer. I even got some training time in. Thanks for the suggestions, by the way."
"It wasn't anything special," she muttered. It'd just made sense that if he'd made her and Glory Girl Orichalcum weapons, he'd make one for himself. The fact that he hadn't was pure Lee. It'd taken them a bit to figure out the spiral pattern was the source of the effect that made it hit so much harder. That and layering it with his costume so he could hide it when he didn't want to hit that hard. She still hadn't believed it would be that effective until he launched that train-car upwards with a single punch that wasn't using one of his 'special' shields. She wondered if it ever came down, but that's why he'd arced it towards the bay.
"Between that, increasing my shields to sixteen, and my work with my Aerokinesis, I think I'll do well," he declared. "Or at least, you know, not have to out myself as having more powers to keep from dying." He grinned, "Though there's one thing I'm looking forward to."
"In an Endbringer attack?" she asked, incredulous.
"Yeah. I try not to copy the powers of heroes, but there's going to be a lot of people who don't meet that qualification that are going to be fighting. Levi's my focus, but that's gonna be one hell of a windfall."
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- Location
- Wonderland
Typo roundup time.
Bit of a literal calm before the storm, huh?
Endbringer
how to … things than she'd ever thought
Lee accidentally puns! (Not a typo).
Bit of a literal calm before the storm, huh?
Deadline 12.1
- Location
- United States of America
AN: I've written my second book! It's called "Burrows & Behemoths" and it's currently available on Amazon. Think Jumanji meets D&D, in reverse. If you enjoy this story, I believe you'll enjoy it as well. As something I'm selling, its writing is tighter, its editing is far better, and if you do like it, please leave a review!
Deadline 12.1
It was 5:30 in the morning when the door to the common room of the upper base was flung open. I was weighing the benefits of different types of breakfast and looked up as Glory Girl, wide-eyed in panic, flew in.
"Leviathan!" she yelled, hair mussed, her costume obviously hastily donned.
"Yeah, in like eight hours," I replied, ignoring the wave of Aura that was trying to make me feel guilty. Normally I'd be on her ass for not controlling it, and part of me still wanted to, but her lack of control was understandable, even if only barely.
Getting the email from my father detailing Leviathan's arrival at exactly 1:18 this afternoon was an unexpected windfall, and would be very useful in the future, as the chances of Behemoth still attacking New Delhi were likely going to be such that we couldn't count on it. Herb had then gone and told Cauldron about it with ten hours left before Leviathan's arrival. It was two and a half hours later, and they were apparently getting off their asses to tell everyone else.
A bit of the panic faded from Vicky's eyes, replaced with confusion. "Huh?"
I slipped out my own phone and checked, just to make sure they hadn't been that dumb. For once, they hadn't. "'The PRT has received reliable information that Leviathan will attack Brockton Bay, New Hampshire sometime after eleven a.m. today. If you are currently in Brockton Bay, New Hampshire, please proceed to an Endbringer Shelter in the next two hours for safe transportation out of the area of probable attack,'" I read aloud. "'If you live within ten miles of Brockton Bay, please vacate the area in the next four hours. If you are a parahuman that wishes to participate, please contact the PRT for the nearest transportation point. Please do not panic.' Okay, the last part's dumb, but it's not bad," I editorialized.
"You. . you knew?" she asked, shock and outrage playing across her features.
I shrugged again, "Who do you think told the PRT? Yeah, we're fighting Leviathan today, shortly after one in the afternoon. My previous orders stand: stick near Dean no matter what, keep him alive, and for god's sake make sure you're never in the water. Go back to sleep Vicky, I'll have breakfast ready for everyone at seven."
"The bugs!" she yelled in realization. "That was training!"
"Levi's going to be faster, but yeah," I admitted. "Go back to sleep."
"I can't sleep when I know an Endbringer is attacking!" she shot back.
"Well, he's not for several more hours, and you're going to need that sleep Vicky. Go bug Panacea if you're having trouble, she can help. Now get," I commanded gently. "Worrying isn't going to make it any better. There's a lot of reasons I didn't tell you, and we'll go over them during the team meeting we'll be having over Breakfast."
She nodded, numbly, and left, while I decided to just say 'fuck it' and make a full spread, people could get eat whatever they wanted. That just left figuring out how to make everything so that it was ready all at once.
I got to work, sending a message to everyone's phones saying, "Don't worry, I'll explain over breakfast at 7."
When the residents of Eclipse assembled, they were extremely quiet, each wrapped up in their thoughts. I waved for them to partake in the spread, having gathered my own plate. "Everyone get something, then I'll talk," I instructed when they just stood and stared at the food, and from the expressions of the others, they didn't like it, but they complied. Herb grinned, but it looked forced.
Once everyone had gotten their first plate, I set my waffle aside and clapped my hands. "So, as you likely guessed, the first real threat is here. Leviathan." Looking at Theo, Canary, Hedera, and Dean, who'd shown up to the base five minutes ago, I revealed, "Break and I got a very in depth view of what would've happened in Brockton Bay from a month ago to late July, but we had to deal with the prophet's dilemma: we would know what was coming only if we didn't stop what happened before it. Obviously, we've meddled, but we've kept it small."
Panacea let out a disbelieving snort, but Herb beat me to responding. "Nah, really. For him, he has."
"Thanks?" I replied, not sure if that was a compliment or not. "Anyways, the more we change things, the more unreliable it gets. That's why we've been working to prepare, but weren't able to tell you for fear of things going much worse."
"What's worse than an Endbringer?" Purity asked, starting to glow in agitation.
"Three," replied Taylor, not missing a beat. "No one's got warning like this, so who knows what it'll do?"
"Luckily, we got word from the short-term precog I've got on retainer that it's just going to be Leviathan, who's coming in at one-eighteen. Given how precogs mess with precogs, and all the other abilities that affect precogs, all of whom are going to be flooding the city to fight him, that's all I was able to get, but that's why we were able to warn the Triumvirate, who told the PRT, who are managing everything else," I reassured them. "And if for some reason we're wrong? If two, or all three show up? Every needs to run. Those in the base hold tight, short of a direct attack it should hold, and everyone else scatter while Æonic, Break, and I hold them off."
"Hold them off?" Vicky scoffed, unbelieving. "You think. . ." she trailed off as I subtly thickened the air in the room, lightly pressing down on all of them as I looked at her seriously. It was underhanded, but it was needed to impress upon her that I was being completely serious.
"Victoria, the three of us are Triumvirate-Tier parahumans, and we've got four of Break's brothers coming in for the fight, all of whom are just a little weaker than him. If things get bad, Boardwalk will jump in, as well as a new recruit, and they're each almost as strong as I am. We'll do it, but how well do you think the PRT would react to the Super-strong Nine of us coming out of the woodwork all at once?" I asked, stressing the phrase as I let up on the pressure.
Dean started to say something, but stopped himself. "I hope they'd be grateful, because you're helping," he finally stated.
"I do too," I earnestly agreed, getting a surprised look from him, "but I'd hope they'd be thankful that Boardwalk saved their Wards, and we know how that turned out. Let's just say I know things that make that highly unlikely. What's the phrase? Hope in one hand?" Herb snorted and Kayden shot me a reproachful look, glancing over to Theo to see if he understood me. She needn't have worried, as only Taylor got the reference, smiling into her tea. "So, let's talk Leviathan. First of all, do everything you can to stay out of the water, obviously. He's good at large-scale displays of power, like his tidal waves. Speaking of which."
I tossed everyone an earpiece, giving two to Dean. "This will keep us all in touch. I'll be giving Æonic his later. Dean, give the other one to Missy. Theo, Robin, Hedera, use the base's computers to watch what's going on and warn us if you see something you think we should know about, like a tidal wave." I waited for nods from everyone before continuing.
"So, Leviathan. Never was a Parahuman, the Endbringers are something else entirely. Their bodies are incredibly tough, and they have a core somewhere you need to break to kill them permanently. We're not trying to kill Leviathan," I stressed to the capes around me. "The damage done to Brockton Bay in the process would be catastrophic. Behemoth explodes like a Nuke when he dies, and I have no idea what Leviathan would do."
Complete silence met my statement. Mollified that they were taking this seriously, I continued, "He has 'eyes', but they may just be for show. He definitely feels all of the water around him, so unless you're indoors he knows you're there, and even if you are indoors he may or may not be able to feel the water in your body. But here's the thing: he's kind of a dick."
"Um, Endbringer?" Glory Girl chimed in, sounding off balance and trying to find something solid to cling to. "Being a dick is totes all they do."
"Kinda," I told her, noticing how she'd scooted closer to Dean and was currently holding his hand. I really hoped they both survived. "Behemoth is generally apathetic, and Ziz might seem sadistic, but she's more curiously sociopathic than anything else. Levi likes to play with his opponents like a cat playing with a mouse. He's the only one where having a Striker power matters in the slightest, as he'll let his opponents get close, putting up only a token resistance, and let them hit him. Then he'll try to strike back, but he'll play at being injured. He even pretends to 'bleed' despite it having no effect whatsoever. Then, when the cape thinks they're actually doing something, they get cocky and bang," I hit the table causing everyone else to jump, "he'll actually kill you. However, this is exploitable. If he gets close, hit him once, and while he's acting injured fucking run. He'll likely send a blast of compressed water at you, or try to hit you with his tail, or something, but if you can get away and let someone else distract him you're safe, or as safe as you're going to get. Watch from attacks from behind, as he can turn any water around you into a weapon, and he brings a freaking monsoon with him wherever he goes."
"And the others?" Purity asked intently, the attention of the others snapping to her, then back to me as Herb groaned and sighed, putting his face in his hand.
"Khonsu's a coward, and I don't know enough about Tohu and Bohu to say, but they're not showing up for six months at the earliest," I explained quickly. "But we're talking Leviathan. Behemoth is strength, The Simurgh is finesse, but Leviathan is speed. I'm pretty sure can move the water he leaves behind himself to move himself, so if you're in visual range, you're in striking range, or in blasting range as he whips his hand or tail towards you, sending a high-velocity blast of water in your direction."
Honestly, most of this was conjecture, the Endbringer in question never having shown these abilities in the (extremely limited) video that was available of him fighting. If I was wrong about his capabilities, those gathered around me would just be overly cautious, but that would be just fine by me. If I was right, it'd save their lives if I couldn't be there to do it myself.
"Purity," I instructed, "follow Legend's lead, blast from afar. Yes, you could probably hit him better up close, but the reverse is also true, and while you've got that defensive move you still need a moment to pull it off and it might not hold up to a concentrated stream. We want your help, but we also want you to live." Herb nodded seriously, and she glanced over to him, expression flickering, emotions flashing by in complex combinations before she looked back to me and nodded. Hedera didn't look too happy about what she saw in Kayden's expression, but I didn't care.
"Lady Bug, Panacea, you stay in the triage center they set up, and I don't care what anyone says, you aren't going to leave unless Leviathan is either gone or is coming for you. The first will be obvious, and if it's the second then call for us, run, and hide together. I can save both of you if you're together easily, but things get much worse if you're split up." I did not want to make some bullshit 'which do you save' choice. On one level, Panacea was objectively more useful, on the other hand I didn't want either of them to die!
They both glanced at each other, frowning, then glared at each other, then turned back to me. Panacea nodded while Taylor promised, "I will."
"Glory Girl, I don't care what anyone says, don't go with Alexandria. You stay with Gallant, and both of you stay with Vista. Gallant, I don't give a shit if doing so is insubordination, I don't give a shit if you're benched for a month because of it, you all stay together," I commanded.
Dean looked unsure, but Vicky mouthed 'he died', and I gave a firm nod. She moved to hold his hand with both of hers, and he looked between the two of us. She gazed into his eyes, imploringly, and he slowly nodded. "Okay, I will," he agreed, giving a short laugh. "I'm not going to argue with anything that keeps Vics from fighting an Endbringer." She gave a short, vulnerable, teary laugh and nodded as well.
"And what about you two?" Hedera asked, looking at Herb and I.
"Us?" I smiled grimly. "We'll be in his face, trying to beat the shit out of water-Godzilla while trying to stay alive."
Flying over the city, the sky was clear with barely a cloud in sight, the peacefulness in stark contrast to what was happening below. To be frank, it looked like someone kicked over an anthill. While I could practically feel the tension, there were no screams, no crying, just a lot of car horns and a bit of yelling here and there. The roads downtown were jammed with traffic, people not listening to the directions and trying to drive out, though at the edges of the city things appeared to be progressing fairly well.
Squinting, I could barely make out someone picking up a wrecked car and clearing the road for traffic to continue. There were dozens of fliers in the air, going this way and that, and several mechanical dragons with windows in their sides flew through the air, ferrying people from where they'd gathered at what must be the Endbringer Shelters to the edges of the city, where a small fleet of busses was waiting, more continuing to arrive as I watched.
As much as I hated the PRT, this kind of large-scale operation was something they were far better at than I ever could be. Continuing to the Unitarian church Æonic used as a front, there were a lot of people moving in and out, some still in the uniform of my brother's gang. It wasn't subtle in the slightest, but, with the threat of the imminent attack, no one cared. While a couple people gave me a worried look when I touched down, carrying a large duffel bag, a Middle Eastern girl hurried forward to me, leading me inside without a word.
Blinking, a Vibrant Blue & Light Green glow surrounded her. Respawn was her most prevalent ability, but Temporal Overwrite and Tinker Cybernetics swirled around her main power's glow. Keeping my expression neutral, I carefully looked her over as I followed her, seeing if I could spot any cybernetic implants on her, but if there were any, they were either too subtle to spot or covered up by her BDU's. I was broken from my thoughts by my brother clearing his throat, having been taken to a side room. The Tinker left, closing the door behind her, leaving the two of us in a side obvious.
"Dude, no checking out my minions!" my little brother scolded.
"What?" I asked, unsure of what he was talking about. I wasn't planning on poaching his lieutenants, but that didn't seem to be what he was implying.
"You were staring at her ass!"
Oh. "I was looking to see if she had augmentations," I defended. "Since she's your cybernetics Tinker."
He gave me a measuring look, before snorting and shaking his head. "That ass ain't fake."
I wanted to ask what, exactly, what he meant by that, but changed the subject, putting the bag I was carrying down on the desk with a solid thunk. "I've got some things for you." Passing him the box with the earpiece, I instructed, "This will patch you into my base's comms, so we can keep in touch during the fight, but this is what I'm sure you really want."
Opening the bag fully, I pulled out what Theo had completed a few days prior. He'd been stuck until he'd started working with Herb, who'd been able to copy the kid's Tinker ability and whose different mindset allowed him to work synergistically with Theo to create something truly impressive. It was a long, blocky thing that looked like it came from a gritty sci-fi movie, and practically screamed TINKERTECH.
Gunmetal grey, what started life as a Bushmaster rifle had a standard trigger assembly and down the thick, extended barrel were a series of circular protrusions that, when I flipped the safety off and activated it, glowed a dull brown. In front of the trigger, hanging slightly, was a circular power cell that was slotted in at a thirty-degree angle to hold tight to the gun, and which was had lines running down it that glowed the same brown.
"This is a desiccation gun, which'll instantly destroy any water in a thirty-foot cone in whatever direction its fired. It will not, however, hurt anyone," I warned.
"Where's the fun in that?" Æonic scoffed, folding his arms, and I could hear the smug grin in his tone.
I gave him a disapproving look, "The fun is not having to choose between being hunted down by every other cape by violating the Endbringer Truce or being unable to stop a high-pressured blast of water from cutting you in half." From his head movement, he was rolling his eyes, but I just continued, "Right, so each cell gives you eleven shots, and you've got six cells, counting the one in the gun. That's enough to help you survive an encounter with Levi, but not enough to use for everything. These fights can last anywhere from forty-five minutes to several hours, though Levi's tend to be shorter but more brutal, so try not to use it if you don't have to."
The villain nodded, "Won't be a problem. Got any more goodies?"
"That's not enough?" I asked incredulously, holding something that gave him a hard counter to half of Levi's arsenal. "What else do you want?"
He shrugged, "What'dya got?"
I considered the issue. "What's your preferred melee weapon?"
He started to respond, holding up a hand, only to hesitate, holding them both up in a 'I don't care' gesture as he shrugged agin, "Yes? I mean, ever since my ass got dropped here I know how to fight, but I'm not sure. Something classy?"
"Define 'classy'," I prodded. He just waved to his costume. Rolling my eyes, I slipped my phone out with one hand, considering the different Victorian age weapons my browser provided, finding something immediately. "Do you have something with your gang's symbol on it?" I asked, and he slipped a business-card from a pocket. Reaching out towards the bare wall to my side, I tapped Metal Creation and got to work, extending a long tube of gold and white metal from the wall, giving it the spiral pattern, which Taylor and I had discovered was the secret to giving Orichalcum its force enhancing properties.
"Kaiser?" Charlie asked, and I nodded as I put my phone away and the wall rippled violently, rattling the doorframe slightly. Someone knocked and he told them "Nothing to worry about, my dear. I have everything in hand," as I concentrated, forming not only the rod, but what was contained within. It took several minutes before I finished, narrowing the tip to an infinitesimally small wire, which snapped as I pulled my creation free.
It appeared to be a cane, with the symbol of 'For Whom the Bell Tolls' on the top instead of Arachne Assemblages, and I manifested a tiny air blade to cut the wire connecting the two separate parts. "Don't toss it to anyone, it amplifies force if you swing or throw it," I informed him, carefully handing it to him.
"I suppose a cane works," he said, sounding a little disappointed. "But it's kinda basic bitch. I was hoping for some. . ." he trailed off, head tilting as he looked at what I'd given him, watching as his arms seemed to move without any input from the rest of him. Holding the middle with one hand, and the top with another, he moved a bit stiffly as he separated the cane into two pieces, unsheathing the thin blade.
"Huh," he remarked, swinging the blade, his movements far smoother than the time I'd tried to teach him how to wield a blade, years ago. A tip caught the metal table I'd laid the duffel bag down, and it cut through the solid steel like it wasn't even there, sending the corner flying off to crash against the floor. "Oh fuck the hell yes," he muttered to himself as the door opened.
It was an Asian girl, who was carrying a tablet in one hand and a drawn pistol in the other, looking ready to fight. She froze as she saw the two of us, him with the sword while I was holding an obviously Tinkertech rifle, aiming it down and away from anyone else. "Um, boss-man? I heard somethin' and you asked to know when we'd finished. . ." she glanced at me, before going back to staring at the weapon in my hands, "doing the thing."
"Wha?" Charlie asked, looking over at her before clearing his throat and sheathing the weapon. "Ah, yes of course. The base has been sealed?"
His minion, who glowed with the Vibrant Blue & Light Grey of Respawn, Temporal Leap, and Tinker Small Arms, glanced up at me before refocusing on the gun with undisguised interest, which made a certain amount of sense. "Um. . . can I?" she asked, edging closer, her Tinker-born curiosity overcoming her caution. Looking over at Æonic he nodded, so I held it out for her, not letting go.
She lifted it, but frowned as she tried to look it over, having to struggle to get a good hold on it, the four-foot-long weapon looking ridiculous being held by the five-foot-two girl. Æonic walked over, lifting it fairly easily, his own Peak Condition allowing to handle the thirty-five-pound gun with ease. "Hefty," he commented as she looked at him in disbelief, looking over to me as well.
"It needed to be, to make this work. Any lighter and it'd be shorter range, have less shots, or have a lower limit on how much it could dissipate, instead of what it has now, which is yes," I observed. "So, I've got a few more people to see before this thing goes down. You're keeping your people out of the fight, right?"
"All of them except for Gnomon," he agreed. "He's a new recruit, and insisted. His power isn't something your gear would help with," he added. "He's the impetuous sort, and hopefully this will let it get it out of his system, assuming he survives."
"Fair enough," I agreed. While I'd offer my help, as long as he wasn't being evil, his operations were his responsibility, not mine. Heading for the door with the duffel bag I called over my shoulder, "In that case, good hunting, Æonic."
"I appreciate it," he thanked me, "as we are going to be hunting the Most Dangerous Game. . . Endbringers."
I was on my way to Boojack and Rune, to brief them for the upcoming battle, when a pigeon appeared before me. What made this odd was that that damn thing seemed to teleport, was staring right at me, and had superpowers.
"Mick," I greeted, and it flinched, form shifting until it turned into an enormous, sky-blue vulture with a twenty-foot wingspan, the man in question riding said bird, glancing around nervously. "I thought we were avoiding mythological creatures?" I asked without malice. From when he was formed, he would've had Herb's memories from when we'd gone over his dire-werewolf form, agreeing that anything mythological should not be used with our primary identities, so as to seem less dangerous to the PRT.
He flinched again, as if I'd took a swing at him, and replied quickly. "Prehistoric. Argentavis. Not Myth." His Stand, who I still didn't know the name of, kept its head on a swivel, keeping careful track of all the parahumans around us.
Reaching into my belt, they both stiffened as I pulled out an earpiece. "So you can stay in touch during the fight," I explained, holding it out as we both flew towards my destination, making no move to come closer. With a flap the giant bird blew past me in an instant, Mick grabbing the device and putting it in his ear.
"We'll be around," was all he said, before the bird flapped and they both disappeared.
"You'll also want to get an armband from Dragon," I told him over the comms. "She'll be able to tell you when someone needs help, and without Armsdick there to mess with things they won't be messed with."
"Ok," he replied curtly, before the connection was cut. If I had to assume it was because he shifted forms, the earpiece going into whatever space his clothing was shunted to when he changed shape.
Happy to get that taken care of, that left three more replicants to contact. Tyrone had moved out to somewhere else in the city but was likely to just show up at the base. If he didn't, I'd just meet him at the gathering of capes at eleven. The PRT had sent a text to all registered heroes, and the time and location of the meeting was being played every few minutes as an emergency broadcast far below. Curtis. . . I had no way to contact, which, in retrospect, was a mistake. He'd said he'd show up to the fight, but I had no idea if that meant he'd come back to the base, show up at the meeting, or just jump Leviathan in the middle the battle. That left Boojack and Rune, who I was en-route to now.
Touching down on the roof, a hand over the door unlocked it in an instant, the cameras not covering the roof's entrance, oddly enough. Strolling down to the proper floor, the entire place was dead quiet except for the thumping base coming from the room I was walking towards. Knocking on the door, the music continued, and no one answered. I tried again, with similar results. Feeling rather annoyed, I blanketed the area in silence for a long moment, before knocking on the door and allowing only that sound to propagate throughout the area, before letting go, the music slamming back into place.
Muffled cursing could barely be heard, the music shutting off a few seconds later. The locks slid open and the door opened, as Rune opened the door and yelled, "The fuck you wa. . ." freezing when she saw me.
"I came to talk to you and Boojack about your role in the upcoming Endbringer fight," I informed her, the smell of weed mixed with something else assaulting my senses. In addition, Rune was wearing an oversized T-shirt and, apparently, nothing else, though it was large enough to effectively be a dress on her slight frame. "Tell Boojack I want you both showered and ready to discuss strategy in ten minutes, or I'll come in myself. Go." I commanded, causing her to jump and slam the door shut, locking it again, like that'd help.
I sighed, pinching my nose as I tried not to think of any of the unfortunate implications of what I just saw. That and trying to place the secondary smell I'd been hit in the face with. It was hard to smell anything over the overpowering stench of pot, but there was something else there, almost musky. Did they not take out the trash or something?
With no cameras in the hallway, and everyone else long gone, I was able to work, though I did drop a wall of darkness around me just in case. It was easy to create the folding platform I'd sketched out for her, even if I did have to fly to keep the rippling of the floor from knocking me over. Stashing it in the bag, I made an orichalcum knife as well, just to test a theory.
That ate up a good bit of time, and I only had to wait another minute before Rune opened the door again, once again hitting me face-full with that odd stench, letting me in. Her hair was still soaking wet, but she wasn't dressed in Boojack's shirt or the skimpy outfit she'd worn when I'd first seen her, so I'd take what I could get.
Boojack was waiting inside, smoking a blunt, but he was dressed so that was acceptable. Well, he was wearing pants, which seemed to be dressed for him. He did look annoyed, but I didn't care. Tossing him his earpiece, he opened it, snorted, and put it in. "Rune," I commanded, getting the teenager's attention as I set the reinforced duffel bag on the small kitchen table they had, which groaned slightly under the weight, "first of all put this on." She hesitantly put her own earpiece in, jumping when Zilla greeted her. "This'll keep you in contact with everyone else. Now, go back to your room and put this on, It's cloth, then plate, then robes." I instructed, handing her the new costume. I'd had Regent's armor flash red for a few minutes before dismissing it to reclaim the material to make her armor. Rune was in that grey zone where she was not only too useful an asset to not bring in, but also was low priority overall so had very little in the way of training.
It was something I'd fix when I had enough time, and if she wanted to join the Penumbral Defenders, but I could help her this way. She looked incredulous, then surprised when what appeared to be steel turned out to be nearly weightless. She retreated back to the main bedroom of the apartment instead of the guest room, which was odd. Finally placing the second smell, I looked over at Boojack, who had gone back to smoking his joint and waiting placidly.
"Dude, she's fourteen!" I chided, scandalized.
He just shrugged, "So?"
"You're thirty!"
He shrugged again, "So?"
"Dude, no!" I said, unable to come up with anything more substantive in the moment. From my interactions I knew that Herb's clones would do things that he never would, but while this was the kind of thing I might've expected from Curtis, I thought Boojack was better than this!
He shrugged a third time. "It's not like it was my idea. Told her I didn't give a shit how she dressed 'cause I didn't find her skinny white ass sexy, so she tried to prove me wrong. She's not bad."
I was in no way okay with any of this, but I didn't have time to try to handle this right now. "Stop shtooping the fourteen-year-old! She's young enough to be your daughter!"
"Shtooping?" Boojack snorted. "And I'm the old one? Don't see what you're worried 'bout. I'm a villain. 'Sides, it's not like anyone gives a shit if it's just statutory."
"I give a shit!" I shot back. "Gah. . . just, just stop doing it, okay?"
He shrugged, which I'd somehow forgotten was his default response to any and all criticism. "I'll try."
"No, there is there no try, only do or do not, and stop doing her!" I argued.
"I'll try."
I growled in frustration, and he ignored me, taking another pull off his joint. "You need some help?" he called to Rune instead.
"I can do it myself, not like a sambo like you could figure this out!" she called back, reminding me that she was also a nazi, or at least an ex-nazi, which didn't make what they were doing any better. A moment later she called, "But I guess you could. It's not like I need your help or anything!"
Boojack gave me a smug smile and walked in after her. Listening in, to make sure they weren't doing anything while I was right there, there was a lot of racial slurs from both parties, but if you ignored the content of what was being said and focus on the tonality, she seemed embarrassed and relieved at his help, and he seemed both amused by and comforting about.
The two returned, and looking at her in armor, the effect seemed more Jedi than Mage, but it still worked. Handing her the smooth, perfectly clear helmet, she frowned, flipping her hood down to put it on. Just as intended, when she put the hood back up it was undetectable.
Taking out my phone and pretending to do something on it, I adjusted the armor, causing her to squeak as it tightened up slightly, lengthened slightly, and generally reshaped itself to fit her, as I had to guess the sizes. Once that was done, I put my phone away and addressed them both, focusing on the task at hand instead of the newest problem I just discovered, "Boojack, you're to harry Levi whenever possible. Try to do so when you can save someone, or if no-one else is engaging him. Keep him off balance, but don't get into a one-v-one slugfest, you'll either lose or escalate things too much. Rune. . . you need a better name. First of all, see if you can use your power on your armor."
"I," she hesitated, continuing when I made a 'go on' gesture. "I can't do it on cloth." Boojack snorted, but I ignored him.
"Which is why you've got a breastplate," I told her. She looked at the metallic bust of her armor, her hand hovering over the portion of the armor that displayed assets she did not yet have. "Breastplate means a single piece of armor covering your entire torso. Draw it on your stomach."
Obviously relieved, she did so, her finger glowing even through her glove as she traced an intricate pattern with a practiced hand. It didn't match any runes that I knew of, being far too complicated to be Futhark. I copied her power as it took effect, the armor, which had included a modified climbing harness, lifting slightly, causing her to float in the air, limbs windmilling as she tried to maintain her balance. Boojack lazily reached up and stabilized her.
She set herself down, giggling in delight as she took off and landed a few more times. I cleared my throat and she dropped to the ground with a thunk, a look of panic flashing across her face. "Alright, next idea. Take this," I told her, handing her the Orichalcum knife. Creating a steel plate in the duffel bag, I pulled it out and held it up. "Alright, use your power and try to stab the knife into this. I'm serious, try it," I insisted when she hesitated.
She traced her symbol on the handle, the blade levitating upwards before it shot forward and impacted the plate in my hand. Lacking any unnatural force, it bounced off, scratching the metal, but that was all. "Okay, keep it as a holdout weapon," I instructed, creating a sheath on her armor and pointing it out. "Just be careful throwing or striking with it, since it'll hit harder than you'd think. Last thing, this is for you."
Opening the duffel wide, I pulled out what looked like a chain-link fence folded over many times. I showed her how to unfold it into a ten-foot diameter circle, with thin, metallic rods keeping it stable. "Use this as transport if you need it, it'll collapse for easy travel, but it'll be good if you need a platform in a pinch. Don't advertise that you can use your armor to fly, only use it to get away if you need to. I don't want you to fight Levi, or to get anywhere close to him. I want you to volunteer for search and rescue instead. Understand?"
She nodded, relieved. "Okay," I said, wracking my brain. "And as for names. . . Let's go with Raida."
"Raida?" she echoed, confused.
"Raido's the rune for movement, you move things, but Raido sounds masculine so Raida," I explained. "If you can come up with something better, I'm open to suggestions, but it's a good name for an Endbringer fight." Looking at her, I realized that you could see her face and set the top half of the helmet to be the same dark-green of her cloak, but slightly darker, giving her an Alexandria-ish look. Additionally, I imprinted the rune in question on the back of her cloak in an eye-catching yellow, in case any of us needed to spot her in a hurry.
"If you need help, call and we'll try to get there if we can, and if we call for help you'll need to come help in turn, though we're not going to ask you to go anywhere close to Levi," I reassured her. "Any questions?"
She just stared at me, not saying anything. "We're good," Boojack said, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder, which snapped her out of whatever she was thinking, and she nodded.
"Yeah, I won't let you down," she promised.
"Your main priority is to survive, Raida," I cautioned her. "Boojack can heal from pretty much anything, even if it'll take a bit, but you can't. Stay safe, and try to save as many as you can."
Deadline 12.1
It was 5:30 in the morning when the door to the common room of the upper base was flung open. I was weighing the benefits of different types of breakfast and looked up as Glory Girl, wide-eyed in panic, flew in.
"Leviathan!" she yelled, hair mussed, her costume obviously hastily donned.
"Yeah, in like eight hours," I replied, ignoring the wave of Aura that was trying to make me feel guilty. Normally I'd be on her ass for not controlling it, and part of me still wanted to, but her lack of control was understandable, even if only barely.
Getting the email from my father detailing Leviathan's arrival at exactly 1:18 this afternoon was an unexpected windfall, and would be very useful in the future, as the chances of Behemoth still attacking New Delhi were likely going to be such that we couldn't count on it. Herb had then gone and told Cauldron about it with ten hours left before Leviathan's arrival. It was two and a half hours later, and they were apparently getting off their asses to tell everyone else.
A bit of the panic faded from Vicky's eyes, replaced with confusion. "Huh?"
I slipped out my own phone and checked, just to make sure they hadn't been that dumb. For once, they hadn't. "'The PRT has received reliable information that Leviathan will attack Brockton Bay, New Hampshire sometime after eleven a.m. today. If you are currently in Brockton Bay, New Hampshire, please proceed to an Endbringer Shelter in the next two hours for safe transportation out of the area of probable attack,'" I read aloud. "'If you live within ten miles of Brockton Bay, please vacate the area in the next four hours. If you are a parahuman that wishes to participate, please contact the PRT for the nearest transportation point. Please do not panic.' Okay, the last part's dumb, but it's not bad," I editorialized.
"You. . you knew?" she asked, shock and outrage playing across her features.
I shrugged again, "Who do you think told the PRT? Yeah, we're fighting Leviathan today, shortly after one in the afternoon. My previous orders stand: stick near Dean no matter what, keep him alive, and for god's sake make sure you're never in the water. Go back to sleep Vicky, I'll have breakfast ready for everyone at seven."
"The bugs!" she yelled in realization. "That was training!"
"Levi's going to be faster, but yeah," I admitted. "Go back to sleep."
"I can't sleep when I know an Endbringer is attacking!" she shot back.
"Well, he's not for several more hours, and you're going to need that sleep Vicky. Go bug Panacea if you're having trouble, she can help. Now get," I commanded gently. "Worrying isn't going to make it any better. There's a lot of reasons I didn't tell you, and we'll go over them during the team meeting we'll be having over Breakfast."
She nodded, numbly, and left, while I decided to just say 'fuck it' and make a full spread, people could get eat whatever they wanted. That just left figuring out how to make everything so that it was ready all at once.
I got to work, sending a message to everyone's phones saying, "Don't worry, I'll explain over breakfast at 7."
When the residents of Eclipse assembled, they were extremely quiet, each wrapped up in their thoughts. I waved for them to partake in the spread, having gathered my own plate. "Everyone get something, then I'll talk," I instructed when they just stood and stared at the food, and from the expressions of the others, they didn't like it, but they complied. Herb grinned, but it looked forced.
Once everyone had gotten their first plate, I set my waffle aside and clapped my hands. "So, as you likely guessed, the first real threat is here. Leviathan." Looking at Theo, Canary, Hedera, and Dean, who'd shown up to the base five minutes ago, I revealed, "Break and I got a very in depth view of what would've happened in Brockton Bay from a month ago to late July, but we had to deal with the prophet's dilemma: we would know what was coming only if we didn't stop what happened before it. Obviously, we've meddled, but we've kept it small."
Panacea let out a disbelieving snort, but Herb beat me to responding. "Nah, really. For him, he has."
"Thanks?" I replied, not sure if that was a compliment or not. "Anyways, the more we change things, the more unreliable it gets. That's why we've been working to prepare, but weren't able to tell you for fear of things going much worse."
"What's worse than an Endbringer?" Purity asked, starting to glow in agitation.
"Three," replied Taylor, not missing a beat. "No one's got warning like this, so who knows what it'll do?"
"Luckily, we got word from the short-term precog I've got on retainer that it's just going to be Leviathan, who's coming in at one-eighteen. Given how precogs mess with precogs, and all the other abilities that affect precogs, all of whom are going to be flooding the city to fight him, that's all I was able to get, but that's why we were able to warn the Triumvirate, who told the PRT, who are managing everything else," I reassured them. "And if for some reason we're wrong? If two, or all three show up? Every needs to run. Those in the base hold tight, short of a direct attack it should hold, and everyone else scatter while Æonic, Break, and I hold them off."
"Hold them off?" Vicky scoffed, unbelieving. "You think. . ." she trailed off as I subtly thickened the air in the room, lightly pressing down on all of them as I looked at her seriously. It was underhanded, but it was needed to impress upon her that I was being completely serious.
"Victoria, the three of us are Triumvirate-Tier parahumans, and we've got four of Break's brothers coming in for the fight, all of whom are just a little weaker than him. If things get bad, Boardwalk will jump in, as well as a new recruit, and they're each almost as strong as I am. We'll do it, but how well do you think the PRT would react to the Super-strong Nine of us coming out of the woodwork all at once?" I asked, stressing the phrase as I let up on the pressure.
Dean started to say something, but stopped himself. "I hope they'd be grateful, because you're helping," he finally stated.
"I do too," I earnestly agreed, getting a surprised look from him, "but I'd hope they'd be thankful that Boardwalk saved their Wards, and we know how that turned out. Let's just say I know things that make that highly unlikely. What's the phrase? Hope in one hand?" Herb snorted and Kayden shot me a reproachful look, glancing over to Theo to see if he understood me. She needn't have worried, as only Taylor got the reference, smiling into her tea. "So, let's talk Leviathan. First of all, do everything you can to stay out of the water, obviously. He's good at large-scale displays of power, like his tidal waves. Speaking of which."
I tossed everyone an earpiece, giving two to Dean. "This will keep us all in touch. I'll be giving Æonic his later. Dean, give the other one to Missy. Theo, Robin, Hedera, use the base's computers to watch what's going on and warn us if you see something you think we should know about, like a tidal wave." I waited for nods from everyone before continuing.
"So, Leviathan. Never was a Parahuman, the Endbringers are something else entirely. Their bodies are incredibly tough, and they have a core somewhere you need to break to kill them permanently. We're not trying to kill Leviathan," I stressed to the capes around me. "The damage done to Brockton Bay in the process would be catastrophic. Behemoth explodes like a Nuke when he dies, and I have no idea what Leviathan would do."
Complete silence met my statement. Mollified that they were taking this seriously, I continued, "He has 'eyes', but they may just be for show. He definitely feels all of the water around him, so unless you're indoors he knows you're there, and even if you are indoors he may or may not be able to feel the water in your body. But here's the thing: he's kind of a dick."
"Um, Endbringer?" Glory Girl chimed in, sounding off balance and trying to find something solid to cling to. "Being a dick is totes all they do."
"Kinda," I told her, noticing how she'd scooted closer to Dean and was currently holding his hand. I really hoped they both survived. "Behemoth is generally apathetic, and Ziz might seem sadistic, but she's more curiously sociopathic than anything else. Levi likes to play with his opponents like a cat playing with a mouse. He's the only one where having a Striker power matters in the slightest, as he'll let his opponents get close, putting up only a token resistance, and let them hit him. Then he'll try to strike back, but he'll play at being injured. He even pretends to 'bleed' despite it having no effect whatsoever. Then, when the cape thinks they're actually doing something, they get cocky and bang," I hit the table causing everyone else to jump, "he'll actually kill you. However, this is exploitable. If he gets close, hit him once, and while he's acting injured fucking run. He'll likely send a blast of compressed water at you, or try to hit you with his tail, or something, but if you can get away and let someone else distract him you're safe, or as safe as you're going to get. Watch from attacks from behind, as he can turn any water around you into a weapon, and he brings a freaking monsoon with him wherever he goes."
"And the others?" Purity asked intently, the attention of the others snapping to her, then back to me as Herb groaned and sighed, putting his face in his hand.
"Khonsu's a coward, and I don't know enough about Tohu and Bohu to say, but they're not showing up for six months at the earliest," I explained quickly. "But we're talking Leviathan. Behemoth is strength, The Simurgh is finesse, but Leviathan is speed. I'm pretty sure can move the water he leaves behind himself to move himself, so if you're in visual range, you're in striking range, or in blasting range as he whips his hand or tail towards you, sending a high-velocity blast of water in your direction."
Honestly, most of this was conjecture, the Endbringer in question never having shown these abilities in the (extremely limited) video that was available of him fighting. If I was wrong about his capabilities, those gathered around me would just be overly cautious, but that would be just fine by me. If I was right, it'd save their lives if I couldn't be there to do it myself.
"Purity," I instructed, "follow Legend's lead, blast from afar. Yes, you could probably hit him better up close, but the reverse is also true, and while you've got that defensive move you still need a moment to pull it off and it might not hold up to a concentrated stream. We want your help, but we also want you to live." Herb nodded seriously, and she glanced over to him, expression flickering, emotions flashing by in complex combinations before she looked back to me and nodded. Hedera didn't look too happy about what she saw in Kayden's expression, but I didn't care.
"Lady Bug, Panacea, you stay in the triage center they set up, and I don't care what anyone says, you aren't going to leave unless Leviathan is either gone or is coming for you. The first will be obvious, and if it's the second then call for us, run, and hide together. I can save both of you if you're together easily, but things get much worse if you're split up." I did not want to make some bullshit 'which do you save' choice. On one level, Panacea was objectively more useful, on the other hand I didn't want either of them to die!
They both glanced at each other, frowning, then glared at each other, then turned back to me. Panacea nodded while Taylor promised, "I will."
"Glory Girl, I don't care what anyone says, don't go with Alexandria. You stay with Gallant, and both of you stay with Vista. Gallant, I don't give a shit if doing so is insubordination, I don't give a shit if you're benched for a month because of it, you all stay together," I commanded.
Dean looked unsure, but Vicky mouthed 'he died', and I gave a firm nod. She moved to hold his hand with both of hers, and he looked between the two of us. She gazed into his eyes, imploringly, and he slowly nodded. "Okay, I will," he agreed, giving a short laugh. "I'm not going to argue with anything that keeps Vics from fighting an Endbringer." She gave a short, vulnerable, teary laugh and nodded as well.
"And what about you two?" Hedera asked, looking at Herb and I.
"Us?" I smiled grimly. "We'll be in his face, trying to beat the shit out of water-Godzilla while trying to stay alive."
Flying over the city, the sky was clear with barely a cloud in sight, the peacefulness in stark contrast to what was happening below. To be frank, it looked like someone kicked over an anthill. While I could practically feel the tension, there were no screams, no crying, just a lot of car horns and a bit of yelling here and there. The roads downtown were jammed with traffic, people not listening to the directions and trying to drive out, though at the edges of the city things appeared to be progressing fairly well.
Squinting, I could barely make out someone picking up a wrecked car and clearing the road for traffic to continue. There were dozens of fliers in the air, going this way and that, and several mechanical dragons with windows in their sides flew through the air, ferrying people from where they'd gathered at what must be the Endbringer Shelters to the edges of the city, where a small fleet of busses was waiting, more continuing to arrive as I watched.
As much as I hated the PRT, this kind of large-scale operation was something they were far better at than I ever could be. Continuing to the Unitarian church Æonic used as a front, there were a lot of people moving in and out, some still in the uniform of my brother's gang. It wasn't subtle in the slightest, but, with the threat of the imminent attack, no one cared. While a couple people gave me a worried look when I touched down, carrying a large duffel bag, a Middle Eastern girl hurried forward to me, leading me inside without a word.
Blinking, a Vibrant Blue & Light Green glow surrounded her. Respawn was her most prevalent ability, but Temporal Overwrite and Tinker Cybernetics swirled around her main power's glow. Keeping my expression neutral, I carefully looked her over as I followed her, seeing if I could spot any cybernetic implants on her, but if there were any, they were either too subtle to spot or covered up by her BDU's. I was broken from my thoughts by my brother clearing his throat, having been taken to a side room. The Tinker left, closing the door behind her, leaving the two of us in a side obvious.
"Dude, no checking out my minions!" my little brother scolded.
"What?" I asked, unsure of what he was talking about. I wasn't planning on poaching his lieutenants, but that didn't seem to be what he was implying.
"You were staring at her ass!"
Oh. "I was looking to see if she had augmentations," I defended. "Since she's your cybernetics Tinker."
He gave me a measuring look, before snorting and shaking his head. "That ass ain't fake."
I wanted to ask what, exactly, what he meant by that, but changed the subject, putting the bag I was carrying down on the desk with a solid thunk. "I've got some things for you." Passing him the box with the earpiece, I instructed, "This will patch you into my base's comms, so we can keep in touch during the fight, but this is what I'm sure you really want."
Opening the bag fully, I pulled out what Theo had completed a few days prior. He'd been stuck until he'd started working with Herb, who'd been able to copy the kid's Tinker ability and whose different mindset allowed him to work synergistically with Theo to create something truly impressive. It was a long, blocky thing that looked like it came from a gritty sci-fi movie, and practically screamed TINKERTECH.
Gunmetal grey, what started life as a Bushmaster rifle had a standard trigger assembly and down the thick, extended barrel were a series of circular protrusions that, when I flipped the safety off and activated it, glowed a dull brown. In front of the trigger, hanging slightly, was a circular power cell that was slotted in at a thirty-degree angle to hold tight to the gun, and which was had lines running down it that glowed the same brown.
"This is a desiccation gun, which'll instantly destroy any water in a thirty-foot cone in whatever direction its fired. It will not, however, hurt anyone," I warned.
"Where's the fun in that?" Æonic scoffed, folding his arms, and I could hear the smug grin in his tone.
I gave him a disapproving look, "The fun is not having to choose between being hunted down by every other cape by violating the Endbringer Truce or being unable to stop a high-pressured blast of water from cutting you in half." From his head movement, he was rolling his eyes, but I just continued, "Right, so each cell gives you eleven shots, and you've got six cells, counting the one in the gun. That's enough to help you survive an encounter with Levi, but not enough to use for everything. These fights can last anywhere from forty-five minutes to several hours, though Levi's tend to be shorter but more brutal, so try not to use it if you don't have to."
The villain nodded, "Won't be a problem. Got any more goodies?"
"That's not enough?" I asked incredulously, holding something that gave him a hard counter to half of Levi's arsenal. "What else do you want?"
He shrugged, "What'dya got?"
I considered the issue. "What's your preferred melee weapon?"
He started to respond, holding up a hand, only to hesitate, holding them both up in a 'I don't care' gesture as he shrugged agin, "Yes? I mean, ever since my ass got dropped here I know how to fight, but I'm not sure. Something classy?"
"Define 'classy'," I prodded. He just waved to his costume. Rolling my eyes, I slipped my phone out with one hand, considering the different Victorian age weapons my browser provided, finding something immediately. "Do you have something with your gang's symbol on it?" I asked, and he slipped a business-card from a pocket. Reaching out towards the bare wall to my side, I tapped Metal Creation and got to work, extending a long tube of gold and white metal from the wall, giving it the spiral pattern, which Taylor and I had discovered was the secret to giving Orichalcum its force enhancing properties.
"Kaiser?" Charlie asked, and I nodded as I put my phone away and the wall rippled violently, rattling the doorframe slightly. Someone knocked and he told them "Nothing to worry about, my dear. I have everything in hand," as I concentrated, forming not only the rod, but what was contained within. It took several minutes before I finished, narrowing the tip to an infinitesimally small wire, which snapped as I pulled my creation free.
It appeared to be a cane, with the symbol of 'For Whom the Bell Tolls' on the top instead of Arachne Assemblages, and I manifested a tiny air blade to cut the wire connecting the two separate parts. "Don't toss it to anyone, it amplifies force if you swing or throw it," I informed him, carefully handing it to him.
"I suppose a cane works," he said, sounding a little disappointed. "But it's kinda basic bitch. I was hoping for some. . ." he trailed off, head tilting as he looked at what I'd given him, watching as his arms seemed to move without any input from the rest of him. Holding the middle with one hand, and the top with another, he moved a bit stiffly as he separated the cane into two pieces, unsheathing the thin blade.
"Huh," he remarked, swinging the blade, his movements far smoother than the time I'd tried to teach him how to wield a blade, years ago. A tip caught the metal table I'd laid the duffel bag down, and it cut through the solid steel like it wasn't even there, sending the corner flying off to crash against the floor. "Oh fuck the hell yes," he muttered to himself as the door opened.
It was an Asian girl, who was carrying a tablet in one hand and a drawn pistol in the other, looking ready to fight. She froze as she saw the two of us, him with the sword while I was holding an obviously Tinkertech rifle, aiming it down and away from anyone else. "Um, boss-man? I heard somethin' and you asked to know when we'd finished. . ." she glanced at me, before going back to staring at the weapon in my hands, "doing the thing."
"Wha?" Charlie asked, looking over at her before clearing his throat and sheathing the weapon. "Ah, yes of course. The base has been sealed?"
His minion, who glowed with the Vibrant Blue & Light Grey of Respawn, Temporal Leap, and Tinker Small Arms, glanced up at me before refocusing on the gun with undisguised interest, which made a certain amount of sense. "Um. . . can I?" she asked, edging closer, her Tinker-born curiosity overcoming her caution. Looking over at Æonic he nodded, so I held it out for her, not letting go.
She lifted it, but frowned as she tried to look it over, having to struggle to get a good hold on it, the four-foot-long weapon looking ridiculous being held by the five-foot-two girl. Æonic walked over, lifting it fairly easily, his own Peak Condition allowing to handle the thirty-five-pound gun with ease. "Hefty," he commented as she looked at him in disbelief, looking over to me as well.
"It needed to be, to make this work. Any lighter and it'd be shorter range, have less shots, or have a lower limit on how much it could dissipate, instead of what it has now, which is yes," I observed. "So, I've got a few more people to see before this thing goes down. You're keeping your people out of the fight, right?"
"All of them except for Gnomon," he agreed. "He's a new recruit, and insisted. His power isn't something your gear would help with," he added. "He's the impetuous sort, and hopefully this will let it get it out of his system, assuming he survives."
"Fair enough," I agreed. While I'd offer my help, as long as he wasn't being evil, his operations were his responsibility, not mine. Heading for the door with the duffel bag I called over my shoulder, "In that case, good hunting, Æonic."
"I appreciate it," he thanked me, "as we are going to be hunting the Most Dangerous Game. . . Endbringers."
I was on my way to Boojack and Rune, to brief them for the upcoming battle, when a pigeon appeared before me. What made this odd was that that damn thing seemed to teleport, was staring right at me, and had superpowers.
"Mick," I greeted, and it flinched, form shifting until it turned into an enormous, sky-blue vulture with a twenty-foot wingspan, the man in question riding said bird, glancing around nervously. "I thought we were avoiding mythological creatures?" I asked without malice. From when he was formed, he would've had Herb's memories from when we'd gone over his dire-werewolf form, agreeing that anything mythological should not be used with our primary identities, so as to seem less dangerous to the PRT.
He flinched again, as if I'd took a swing at him, and replied quickly. "Prehistoric. Argentavis. Not Myth." His Stand, who I still didn't know the name of, kept its head on a swivel, keeping careful track of all the parahumans around us.
Reaching into my belt, they both stiffened as I pulled out an earpiece. "So you can stay in touch during the fight," I explained, holding it out as we both flew towards my destination, making no move to come closer. With a flap the giant bird blew past me in an instant, Mick grabbing the device and putting it in his ear.
"We'll be around," was all he said, before the bird flapped and they both disappeared.
"You'll also want to get an armband from Dragon," I told him over the comms. "She'll be able to tell you when someone needs help, and without Armsdick there to mess with things they won't be messed with."
"Ok," he replied curtly, before the connection was cut. If I had to assume it was because he shifted forms, the earpiece going into whatever space his clothing was shunted to when he changed shape.
Happy to get that taken care of, that left three more replicants to contact. Tyrone had moved out to somewhere else in the city but was likely to just show up at the base. If he didn't, I'd just meet him at the gathering of capes at eleven. The PRT had sent a text to all registered heroes, and the time and location of the meeting was being played every few minutes as an emergency broadcast far below. Curtis. . . I had no way to contact, which, in retrospect, was a mistake. He'd said he'd show up to the fight, but I had no idea if that meant he'd come back to the base, show up at the meeting, or just jump Leviathan in the middle the battle. That left Boojack and Rune, who I was en-route to now.
Touching down on the roof, a hand over the door unlocked it in an instant, the cameras not covering the roof's entrance, oddly enough. Strolling down to the proper floor, the entire place was dead quiet except for the thumping base coming from the room I was walking towards. Knocking on the door, the music continued, and no one answered. I tried again, with similar results. Feeling rather annoyed, I blanketed the area in silence for a long moment, before knocking on the door and allowing only that sound to propagate throughout the area, before letting go, the music slamming back into place.
Muffled cursing could barely be heard, the music shutting off a few seconds later. The locks slid open and the door opened, as Rune opened the door and yelled, "The fuck you wa. . ." freezing when she saw me.
"I came to talk to you and Boojack about your role in the upcoming Endbringer fight," I informed her, the smell of weed mixed with something else assaulting my senses. In addition, Rune was wearing an oversized T-shirt and, apparently, nothing else, though it was large enough to effectively be a dress on her slight frame. "Tell Boojack I want you both showered and ready to discuss strategy in ten minutes, or I'll come in myself. Go." I commanded, causing her to jump and slam the door shut, locking it again, like that'd help.
I sighed, pinching my nose as I tried not to think of any of the unfortunate implications of what I just saw. That and trying to place the secondary smell I'd been hit in the face with. It was hard to smell anything over the overpowering stench of pot, but there was something else there, almost musky. Did they not take out the trash or something?
With no cameras in the hallway, and everyone else long gone, I was able to work, though I did drop a wall of darkness around me just in case. It was easy to create the folding platform I'd sketched out for her, even if I did have to fly to keep the rippling of the floor from knocking me over. Stashing it in the bag, I made an orichalcum knife as well, just to test a theory.
That ate up a good bit of time, and I only had to wait another minute before Rune opened the door again, once again hitting me face-full with that odd stench, letting me in. Her hair was still soaking wet, but she wasn't dressed in Boojack's shirt or the skimpy outfit she'd worn when I'd first seen her, so I'd take what I could get.
Boojack was waiting inside, smoking a blunt, but he was dressed so that was acceptable. Well, he was wearing pants, which seemed to be dressed for him. He did look annoyed, but I didn't care. Tossing him his earpiece, he opened it, snorted, and put it in. "Rune," I commanded, getting the teenager's attention as I set the reinforced duffel bag on the small kitchen table they had, which groaned slightly under the weight, "first of all put this on." She hesitantly put her own earpiece in, jumping when Zilla greeted her. "This'll keep you in contact with everyone else. Now, go back to your room and put this on, It's cloth, then plate, then robes." I instructed, handing her the new costume. I'd had Regent's armor flash red for a few minutes before dismissing it to reclaim the material to make her armor. Rune was in that grey zone where she was not only too useful an asset to not bring in, but also was low priority overall so had very little in the way of training.
It was something I'd fix when I had enough time, and if she wanted to join the Penumbral Defenders, but I could help her this way. She looked incredulous, then surprised when what appeared to be steel turned out to be nearly weightless. She retreated back to the main bedroom of the apartment instead of the guest room, which was odd. Finally placing the second smell, I looked over at Boojack, who had gone back to smoking his joint and waiting placidly.
"Dude, she's fourteen!" I chided, scandalized.
He just shrugged, "So?"
"You're thirty!"
He shrugged again, "So?"
"Dude, no!" I said, unable to come up with anything more substantive in the moment. From my interactions I knew that Herb's clones would do things that he never would, but while this was the kind of thing I might've expected from Curtis, I thought Boojack was better than this!
He shrugged a third time. "It's not like it was my idea. Told her I didn't give a shit how she dressed 'cause I didn't find her skinny white ass sexy, so she tried to prove me wrong. She's not bad."
I was in no way okay with any of this, but I didn't have time to try to handle this right now. "Stop shtooping the fourteen-year-old! She's young enough to be your daughter!"
"Shtooping?" Boojack snorted. "And I'm the old one? Don't see what you're worried 'bout. I'm a villain. 'Sides, it's not like anyone gives a shit if it's just statutory."
"I give a shit!" I shot back. "Gah. . . just, just stop doing it, okay?"
He shrugged, which I'd somehow forgotten was his default response to any and all criticism. "I'll try."
"No, there is there no try, only do or do not, and stop doing her!" I argued.
"I'll try."
I growled in frustration, and he ignored me, taking another pull off his joint. "You need some help?" he called to Rune instead.
"I can do it myself, not like a sambo like you could figure this out!" she called back, reminding me that she was also a nazi, or at least an ex-nazi, which didn't make what they were doing any better. A moment later she called, "But I guess you could. It's not like I need your help or anything!"
Boojack gave me a smug smile and walked in after her. Listening in, to make sure they weren't doing anything while I was right there, there was a lot of racial slurs from both parties, but if you ignored the content of what was being said and focus on the tonality, she seemed embarrassed and relieved at his help, and he seemed both amused by and comforting about.
The two returned, and looking at her in armor, the effect seemed more Jedi than Mage, but it still worked. Handing her the smooth, perfectly clear helmet, she frowned, flipping her hood down to put it on. Just as intended, when she put the hood back up it was undetectable.
Taking out my phone and pretending to do something on it, I adjusted the armor, causing her to squeak as it tightened up slightly, lengthened slightly, and generally reshaped itself to fit her, as I had to guess the sizes. Once that was done, I put my phone away and addressed them both, focusing on the task at hand instead of the newest problem I just discovered, "Boojack, you're to harry Levi whenever possible. Try to do so when you can save someone, or if no-one else is engaging him. Keep him off balance, but don't get into a one-v-one slugfest, you'll either lose or escalate things too much. Rune. . . you need a better name. First of all, see if you can use your power on your armor."
"I," she hesitated, continuing when I made a 'go on' gesture. "I can't do it on cloth." Boojack snorted, but I ignored him.
"Which is why you've got a breastplate," I told her. She looked at the metallic bust of her armor, her hand hovering over the portion of the armor that displayed assets she did not yet have. "Breastplate means a single piece of armor covering your entire torso. Draw it on your stomach."
Obviously relieved, she did so, her finger glowing even through her glove as she traced an intricate pattern with a practiced hand. It didn't match any runes that I knew of, being far too complicated to be Futhark. I copied her power as it took effect, the armor, which had included a modified climbing harness, lifting slightly, causing her to float in the air, limbs windmilling as she tried to maintain her balance. Boojack lazily reached up and stabilized her.
She set herself down, giggling in delight as she took off and landed a few more times. I cleared my throat and she dropped to the ground with a thunk, a look of panic flashing across her face. "Alright, next idea. Take this," I told her, handing her the Orichalcum knife. Creating a steel plate in the duffel bag, I pulled it out and held it up. "Alright, use your power and try to stab the knife into this. I'm serious, try it," I insisted when she hesitated.
She traced her symbol on the handle, the blade levitating upwards before it shot forward and impacted the plate in my hand. Lacking any unnatural force, it bounced off, scratching the metal, but that was all. "Okay, keep it as a holdout weapon," I instructed, creating a sheath on her armor and pointing it out. "Just be careful throwing or striking with it, since it'll hit harder than you'd think. Last thing, this is for you."
Opening the duffel wide, I pulled out what looked like a chain-link fence folded over many times. I showed her how to unfold it into a ten-foot diameter circle, with thin, metallic rods keeping it stable. "Use this as transport if you need it, it'll collapse for easy travel, but it'll be good if you need a platform in a pinch. Don't advertise that you can use your armor to fly, only use it to get away if you need to. I don't want you to fight Levi, or to get anywhere close to him. I want you to volunteer for search and rescue instead. Understand?"
She nodded, relieved. "Okay," I said, wracking my brain. "And as for names. . . Let's go with Raida."
"Raida?" she echoed, confused.
"Raido's the rune for movement, you move things, but Raido sounds masculine so Raida," I explained. "If you can come up with something better, I'm open to suggestions, but it's a good name for an Endbringer fight." Looking at her, I realized that you could see her face and set the top half of the helmet to be the same dark-green of her cloak, but slightly darker, giving her an Alexandria-ish look. Additionally, I imprinted the rune in question on the back of her cloak in an eye-catching yellow, in case any of us needed to spot her in a hurry.
"If you need help, call and we'll try to get there if we can, and if we call for help you'll need to come help in turn, though we're not going to ask you to go anywhere close to Levi," I reassured her. "Any questions?"
She just stared at me, not saying anything. "We're good," Boojack said, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder, which snapped her out of whatever she was thinking, and she nodded.
"Yeah, I won't let you down," she promised.
"Your main priority is to survive, Raida," I cautioned her. "Boojack can heal from pretty much anything, even if it'll take a bit, but you can't. Stay safe, and try to save as many as you can."
Last edited:
This demands a slightly different test: Let go of it with a throwing motion to get the amplification, and then guide it in circles with powers before striking and see if it keeps the extra oompf.
Your.
- Location
- Wonderland
Deadline 12.2
- Location
- United States of America
Deadline 12.2
Returning back to base, Curtis was leaning against the entrance, arms folded as he watched me land.
"Hey birdie," the man practically purred. "The cat's back."
"I wondered," I replied, tossing him one of the extra earpieces I'd been carrying. "Use this to keep in touch, after that it's up to you. Respect the Endbringer Truce, don't kill Levi, and other than that do what you do best."
He smiled widely, "Ooo, well isn't that sweet and tasty. My master's letting me off the leash? Well isn't that something new and. . . interestin'."
"The Endbringer Truce is your leash," I replied flatly. "This requires all hands on deck, even yours."
He mimed being shot, "Oh, hero, I'd almost think that was an insult, but you wouldn't be trying to provoke me again, would ya?"
I stared at him. "Curtis, I can either kill you now, or you can try your hand at hunting one of the toughest creatures in existence. Pick one."
The monster currently in human skin shook his head, "Come on V, you're no fun." I manifested an Air Blade. "I'm down with kickin' some big ass," he reassured me. "Just talkin' shit, no need to get rough." I didn't dismiss the blade. "Dontcha have a chill bone in your body, bud?" he asked, and I just stared at him, waiting for him to actually say something actionable.
His stand appeared, shifting into a cheetah with oversized canines which slowly stalked towards me.
I beheaded it.
"All I wanted was a little pet, but that's okay. I'll leave your little tightass to all your little worries. But like any good hunter, I'll always be waiting," he threatened, turning his back to me and slowly slinking off into the mess of rusty corridors that was the railyard. If I didn't need him for the coming fight, and if doing so wouldn't have moved back the possibility of getting an actually helpful replicant, I would've killed him where he stood. I could practically feel the smugness coming off him as he paused, barely for a moment, when he was a few steps away. When he continued, there was an extra swing to his steps.
Entering the base and calling everyone together, I had Theo grab his latest project. Everyone arrived, suited up for battle with the sisters in their full armor. Purity wore a suit of pure white plate armor which I'd had to dismiss Bitch's costume to create. Parian was working on a suit that didn't require me to use the anomalous material of my suit to create, but it wasn't going to be ready until next week at the earliest.
Our resident Tinker walked in carrying a case which he plopped on the table, clicking it open to reveal five identical pistols, each barrel studded with circular protrusions that glowed a dull brown. "Desiccation pistols," he announced. "Each one is good for twenty-three shots, and will destroy all water in a fifteen-foot cone. They won't hurt anyone, but it'll stop Levi's attacks cold. Er, dry," he finished lamely.
"That's ode Gucci!" Glory Girl exclaimed, flying over. "Can I?" she asked the boy, using the non-powered Master effect of smiling honestly and giving him puppy dog eyes.
"Uh, sure," he replied dumbly, his brain shutting down at the unexpected female attention. She grabbed one, looking it over, and he blinked as his power flared, suddenly confident. "The trigger's meant for normal people, so you'll need to be careful since it'll fire easier than you think. There's a safety on the side you need to switch to turn it on, and it can stay ready for the rest of the day no problem. Don't put your finger on the trigger until you're ready to fire," he cautioned, causing her to blush as she almost fired it accidentally. "When you have five shots left the light on the top will start blinking. I can't be there to fight with you, but with this I can still help," he grinned almost roguishly.
"Great, thanks!" she smiled, flying back to where she was, looking it over.
Rolling my eyes, I walked over, grabbing one for myself, the Tinker jumping slightly as I did so. "Good work Theo. Lady Bug, Break, Purity, come over here, you each get one." They did so, holstering their weapons, though Taylor was hesitant in taking the gun, looking to me for confirmation before taking it and attaching it, along with the holster that came with it, to the back of her belt. The weapon rested, concealed in the small of her back, one of the few lightly armored portions of her costume.
Opening my arms in an all-encompassing gesture, I asked, "Everyone ready to go?" At the chorus of nods, I let out a long sigh and dropped my hands to my sides, having run out of things to say to prepare them. "Okay, those going out will meet at the heroes meeting at eleven, which is in two hours. Glory Girl, if you want to use the 'hover sled' I got during the ABB Raids, Zilla can tell you where I stashed it. Anyone have any questions?"
Everyone looked at each other, Panacea speaking up, "Are you sure we can do this? We're fighting an Endbringer."
"Yes," I replied simply. "We're doing this intelligently, and we're a powerful group with powers and protections that most don't have. Is there a chance things will go bad? Yes, yes there is, but Levi was going to come here no matter what. This time around, you all are much more prepared, and even if it costs us, Break and I will do our best to make sure you live through this."
In a 'cruel calculous of war' way, Herb and I keeping our true strengths hidden was more important than the lives of those we'd gathered. However, I'd risk being outed if it meant Taylor, Victoria, or Amelia would survive. I'd be willing to let Kayden die, but Herb wouldn't, and he wouldn't hesitate to save the girls either. I felt a pang of guilt, as I would hesitate. I had when the thought occurred to me, after all, but I'd made my decision and I'd live with it. "This fight's not going to be like anything you've ever faced, but if we're careful, smart, and just a little lucky, we can all come through this alive," I promised them, hoping I was right. "I'll see you at the meeting, and best of luck to you all."
The group split up, Taylor and Amy heading out together, while Herb & Kayden moved to the side to discuss something. The woman still wasn't happy with my teammate, but she had enough professionalism to know they'd need to work together in battle. Victoria walked over to me, suddenly unsure. "What's up Glory Girl?" I asked, curious at the hesitation writ large across her face, her helmet tucked under her arm.
"I, I need to ask a favor," she admitted, trailing off. I waited, and she continued, "I totes need you to help my family get ready." I raised an eyebrow, but didn't say no. "I get that you aren't a fan, and if you're still salty about what Mom did, I sorta get it, she was throwin' stupid amounts of shade, but. . . I don't want my family to die," she admitted, voice small, desperation filling her tone. I was glad her sister had left, and Herb glanced over at me, but I shook my head. "Like, I'll be there for Dean, because of course I will, but I'm worried about them. They've fought before, but never against an Endbringer," she revealed. "They always had a reason, but it's coming here, and I know they're not gonna bail. I know you don't like them, but please, help them? For me?"
I let out a slow breath. She was right, I had a multitude of reasons to despise New Wave, but, to be honest, most of those boiled down to Brandish, and the others' protection/backing of the woman. Besides, I'd gotten to the point where they were no threat to me, and I only had things to gain by helping them survive this in order to help with the coming crisis. Whether they'd get off their self-important asses to actually help afterwards was another matter, but it would cost me very little and might just give them a chance to be the heroes they claimed to be.
"Okay, I will," I agreed, and had to double check for her Charm Field as she seemed to light up, physically lifting off the ground in relief. "I'll meet you at the entrance in ten minutes, then we'll fly over and I'll give them a crash course. I'm not promising that I'll be nice, but I'll help them."
Vicky jumped up and gave me what would've been a bone-crushing hug for anyone else. "You are so the GOAT!" she cheered, flying out of the room. Theo watched her leave while Kayden and Herb smiled at me, the latter giving out a disturbingly realistic 'baaa'.
Flipping him off, I left as well, plans already forming on how I'd handle New Wave.
It was only as we were descending towards the Pelham's house that a thought occurred to me. "You did tell them we were coming, right?"
"Pfft, duh," she said, stopping her descent, reaching for her belt pocket. "But lemme text someone real quick."
"Just call your aunt, she'll handle the others," I suggested as Zilla did so, connecting Vicky's phone to the earpiece she was wearing so she didn't have to try to handle her phone and helmet mid-air. She jumped, shot me a look, but nodded in agreement.
"Hi, aunt Sarah? It's Vicky. Yeah, I was wondering if I could come over for a bit. No, just for a little bit, I'm bringing Vejovis," she said, pausing a bit as Lady Photon replied. "No, he can help! He really can! He's helped me get a lot stronger, and he can help you too! Yes, he totes can!" she argued.
"If it helps, tell her I've helped Gallant, Miss Militia, and a few other PRT heroes," I advised.
"He's helped Dean and he's helped the Protectorate!" she told her aunt. "I was there for when he talked to the air guy in Texas. Yeah, him! Um, a minute? Yeah, we're over the house. Sorry, I forgot, and you said I could come home if I needed to!" she whined.
I rolled my eyes as I made a seat in the air and sat down, trying not to disturb the quiver slung across my back. Looking down at the Pelham's house, several hundred feet down, I saw the front door open and someone who burned with the White & Purple Flames of Kinetic Forcefields. I waved.
"Yes, he's right here with me," Vicky said. "Yeah, we can wait a few minutes. We can wait a few minutes, right?" she asked me, and I nodded, holding up an open hand. "He said he'll wait five. Okay."
"Sorry," she apologized, having hung up.
"It happens," I shrugged.
We hung there in the air, waiting, awkwardly. "So. . . Leviathan?" she finally asked.
I nodded, "He's going to try to agitate the aquifer underneath Brockton Bay to turn it into quicksand and sink the entire city, as well as kill certain people. In the original timeline he was stopped, but a lot of people died."
"Like Dean," she said quietly. I nodded. "Why?" she asked, sounding more confused than anything. "He's strong, but not 'throw down with Endbringers' strong. He's tough, but that's just his armor. Why. . . why send him to fight that?"
I just had to shrug. "Maybe it was incompetence, as Armsmaster was still running the Protectorate. Maybe it was malignance, given the rarity of human Masters working for the PRT. Maybe it was just them throwing everyone they had at the problem, regardless if they could help or not. I don't actually know."
"What does Armsmaster being in charge have to do with Dean dying?" she questioned, confusion still dominating her tone, but it was more of an active consternation than the helpless lack of understanding it had been before.
"Talk to Break or The Lady, Bug," I replied, not wanting to get into it right now. "Just know that with you there, and trained up, and with Dean telling his superiors to go pound sand if they try to make him fight Levi, his chances are much better."
"Not his chances, he's going to survive!" she declared, and I could practically feel the challenging glare from behind her helmet.
"We'll all do our best," I agreed, which from her harrumph she wasn't exactly happy with, but I didn't want to promise something that I couldn't deliver on. "That's why we're here and. . . shit."
"What?" she asked, looking around, hand going to the hilt of her sword. "Is he here?"
"No. . . but your mother is."
"That's not a bad thing," Glory Girl dismissed, and I turned to give her a disbelieving look.
"The last time I met your mother, she tried to kill me. Literally. She tried to take my head off with an energy sword, attempting to murder me when I was refusing to fight her," I pointed out. "How is this not a bad thing?"
Glory Girl was silent for a moment, saved from having to respond by her phone ringing. "We'll be right there," she promised, hanging up. "Okay, we can go down," she told me needlessly, dodging the subject as she started her descent.
Sighing, I followed her down to the shared backyard of the Pelham and Dallon households, where New Wave had gathered. They'd formed a defensive semi-circle, which Vicky moved to join without seeming to realize what it meant. I got a good look at each member, Seeing their powers more deeply than I had the night of the mayor's gala. Actively searching the Flames for a hint of the capability to pull off what I planned, I got the sense that it was within the shard's power, though how well it'd actually work and if their hosts had the skill to pull it off was another matter entirely.
"Victoria, is that really you?" Flashbang asked hesitantly, his wife glaring daggers at me as I silently landed a few feet behind the armored girl, dropping my duffel bag and the long quiver across my back.
Her daughter, reached up and took her helmet off, looking a bit unsure, but smiling brightly. "Hi dad! Yeah, Vejy got me some armor."
"Given the propensity of the criminals to use firearms during and after the ABB's insanity, I thought it prudent," I remarked neutrally. Brandish could go die in a fire for all I cared, but Mark got almost no characterization in Canon. He was depressed, and then suffered brain damage during the Leviathan fight, so I completely understood his lack of action, but the man before me didn't appear to be suffering in the slightest.
"Thank you for keeping my little girl safe," he said seriously, his gratitude obvious, and I wasn't really sure how to respond.
"Um," I said, a bit off balance, "you're wel-"
"Safe? You think he's been keeping her safe?" Brandish interrupted. "When she's with her?"
Ah. This I can deal with. "I'm sorry, there's several 'hers' you could be referring to. I reassure you that Purity has indeed turned over-"
"You know exactly who I'm talking to. Tell me, Vejovis, how many of her little creations have you had to put down?" she spat, and, this time, I had no idea what she was talking about. By the expressions of the others, I wasn't the only one who was confused.
"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked.
"Don't play dumb," she replied, expression nasty.
"Right," I said, turning to focus on her sister. "So I'm here to help all of you but Brandish, as I have a standing policy of not helping people who have tried to kill me in the past without good reason."
"Don't you ignore me!" Brandish yelled, taking a step forward and forming a longsword from crackling energy. I ignored her.
"Carol," Flashbang said firmly, putting a hand on her shoulder, "What are you talking about? Is this about your nightmares?"
"They aren't nightmares!" she yelled, pulling away. "They're real and he knows they're real!"
From the Pelham's expressions, they were just in the dark as I was. Victoria stepped forward, "Mom, what are you talking about?"
"It's his fault!" she declared, pointing her weapon at me. "If he hadn't shown up you wouldn't have turned your back on me!"
"I didn't!" Vicky denied, hurt. "I helped my sister!"
"You don't have a sister!" Brandish hissed, hatred in her eyes.
"Yes, you do," Flashbang stated with authority.
"Mark!" Brandish exclaimed, as if she were the one being betrayed.
He shook his head, telling her, "We've talked about this, Carol. Go inside."
"Not while he's here!" she declared.
Before this could devolve even further, I spoke up. "Brandish, you're not a threat, you're just wasting my time. I didn't hurt you when you tried to kill me, not because I was scared, but because you weren't worth the effort. I'm here as a favor to your daughter, so either stop yelling at me and let me say my piece, help your family survive, and leave, or I will make you leave. Your choice." Even as I said it, I realized I could've been nicer, but my patience for those who accused me of rape, statutory or otherwise, was nonexistent, and she'd long since exhausted it even that.
"Now you're threatening me?" she shrieked, turning to the others. "Why aren't you doing anything?"
Lady Photon winced. "Carol, go inside."
"You're talking his side?" the crazy woman with the energy sword gasped.
"No," her sister disagreed, "There aren't any sides, Carol. I understand, you don't like him, but there's an Endbringer coming here, for god's sake! Maybe you're right, but that doesn't matter right now. Go inside."
"No!" she declared, turning to face me. "You might have fooled them, but I know the truth."
"Jesus Christ woman, I'm not Marquis," I sighed. "I'm both not a villain, but I also have no honor code against fighting women for you to hide behind. Listen to your family before you do something stupid."
I knew this wasn't exactly de-escalating the situation, but that wasn't my goal. My goal was to get this over with. Looking around, I'd need to move to the left to have the ocean at my back. Brandish took the bait, because of course she did, and charged me. "And now we have murder attempt number two," I commented blandly, and Brandish was on me before her sister could hold her back. The woman was predictable to a fault, though that might've just been my ability to see her power work.
She swung her sword for my head, and I reached up and caught the blade, the blow not even draining the crystalline shield covering it, the heat neutralized by one power before I could even ignore it with another. I commented conversationally, "Sphere, please," as she made a dagger in her off hand and swung it for my stomach, the blade harmlessly skidding off my armor.
As my free hand came up, she reflexively sphered, her form condensing into a foot-wide ball of orange-white light. Not holding back, I slammed that sphere with my palm as hard as I could, draining the crystalline shield as I did so.
The world slowed, as my perceptions temporarily accelerated for a reason I still didn't understand, and the sphere rippled as it absorbed the kinetic energy being transferred into it. With the sound like a cannon going off, Brandish's sphered form blasted up and away, leaving the city limits in a matter of seconds with a sharp crack as she broke the sound barrier. With a bit of Acoustokinesis to keep the sound from hurting anyone, the shockwave still pushed everyone back slightly.
"Mom!" Vicky yelled as Brandish seemed to disappear.
The others brought their powers up, and I dusted my hands off. "She'll be fine. You didn't want her to get hurt, and she'll probably be touching down in New York. Maybe now she won't try to kill me a third time. I swear to god if she wasn't your mother." I looked around at the others, ready to fight.
Knowing what they could do, I could take them down without breaking a sweat. "Yeah, that's cute. You can attack me, and I'll try to take you all down without hurting you, or I can try to help you all survive. Besides, you'd think that, with her being a lawyer, she'd realize what breaking the Endbringer Truce would result in, but I won't say anything if you all don't."
That took the wind out of their sails. I know I was being the 'tough guy', but I didn't care about this bunch of rule-breaking, honorless, blight on the name of heroes. However, Shielder and Laserdream didn't deserve to be judged by their parent's action, and Vicky did ask, but there were dozens of things I could rather be doing and this entire fiasco had already eaten through a good chunk of my quickly diminishing time.
"She's fine?" Vicky asked.
"Her ego's likely bruised, but," I smoothly reached behind myself and pulled out my pistol, New Wave stiffening, "If I wanted her dead, I'd just shoot her." Stowing the weapon, I turned my back on them and walked over to the duffel bag, pulling out the long, pointy, flattened, teardrop-looking piece of metal out. "So, this applies to Shielder mostly, but also Laserdream and Lady Photon, since you all have the same basic power. So, Shielder," The boy, who had been primed to create a shield, did so, dismissing it as I looked at him expectantly, though he was ready to pop it back up again. "Quick question, why do you always make your shields circular?"
"I. . . Uh. . . what?" he stuttered, looking to his mother for help.
"Listen," I sighed, "Even if I wanted to hurt you, which I don't, I wouldn't be dumb enough to do it during an Endbringer attack. Yes, if you wanted to try squirm out of the restriction like a villain you could try to argue that the attack hasn't technically started, but I'm here to help you survive. The PD's got a Thinker to give us some numbers and without me coming here you die," I told him, the poor kid paling.
"As does your father, while your uncle suffers brain damage," I pressed, You guys are theoretically heroes, even if you did jack-all the last few weeks. Also, more than just fighting Levi, your cousin has asked that I come over here to help you all out. For whatever reason I don't think of powers like most people do, which lets me find new uses very quickly. So. Why the hemisphere? I know you can shape it, since you make it a circle when you fly, but you flatten out the bottom on land. So, why a circle?"
"I. . . I don't know," he said, sounding on the edge of panic.
"Look, if you're not dumb then you're not going to die this time. So, make your shield, and then make it look like this," I instructed, tossing him the hollow piece of metal. He fumbled as he caught it, barely, looking down at it then up at me.
"You can do it!" Vicky told him, and he looked at her, then at his mother, who was frowning in thought. He looked down at the shape in his hands, holding one out, his blue shield springing back up around him, perfectly circular.
"Girls, you do the same. I know yours aren't as strong, but they should be strong enough for this," I instructed, casually taking a seat on thin air. That earned me some odd looks, but a crimson and purple shield quickly joined the blue, all three starting to ripple and shimmer, like they were made of glowing Jell-O.
Leaning back and Seeing their powers at work, it was fascinating. All three were working, but in slightly different ways, but for every bit of progress one made, the other two quickly followed suite. My own power wanted to go and copy all three, but I had a moment of indecision. On one hand, they were theoretically heroes. On the other, they sure as hell weren't acting like it, which was really my metric, and I was already doing them a service. Combined with the fact that, despite my efforts, there was a good chance they'd die, made the decision easier.
Interestingly, I didn't copy three powers, I copied one. Copying Shielder, I gained Kinetic Forcefields. Copying his mother's power, the power warped and changed, adding increased blast power, flight speed, and ability to shift focus between blasts and shields. Copying his sister's, it changed again, further increasing blast power and flight speed. Turning back to watching their progress, it was picking up, all progress anyone made copied by my power and then by others immediately.
Manpower, who was splitting his focus between myself and his family, offered advice to them to help smooth out the shapes, viewing them from the outside. Meanwhile Flashbang was talking to his daughter, who seemed happy, though she did send me an annoyed look when she saw I was looking at her.
Okay, blasting her mother off at the speed of sound was probably not the best of ideas, but having been on the end of baseless accusations, and seeing firsthand the damage a crazy or malicious person could do ('obviously if there's smoke there's fire, people don't just make things up out of nowhere, after all', being what most people think, which is exactly what the liar counts on), it was quite cathartic to lay her out. I hoped that once she realized the power gulf between us, and that, now that I'd explicitly told her, she didn't have any special protections, that she'd cut it out. I was aware that that was unlikely.
As the shapes were firming, I stood up. "Good, now, do you know why I had you make those shapes?"
Manpower shared a look with his wife. "They're aerodynamic, like an airplane's wing. It'll make it easier to carry people when flying. Providing lift from moving forward instead of having to lift yourself up."
I nodded, not actually having thought about that. "While true, it is an aerofoil, that's not why it's important to know now. You are going to be fighting against Leviathan, who's all power and very little finesse. Shielder, could you make your round shield please?" I requested, walking to put the ocean behind him as he did so. I smoothly unholstered my pistol and shot it in a place that wouldn't hit anyone if it popped. The kid grunted as he tanked the round, but it held steady. Ignoring the glare from his parents, and the exasperated sigh from Glory Girl, I nodded. "Good, now the shield I showed you, pointing the front towards me."
He did so, watching the gun in my hand in apprehension. Aiming again above and to his side, Lady Photon raised her hand to create a shield but Manpower shook his head, watching me closely. I fired again, the bullet deflecting off the shape and flying out over the bay. "Easier, right?" I asked, holstering my weapon.
"Um, yeah?" he replied, surprised.
"Can you please not shoot at my children again?" Lady Photon asked, visibly annoyed.
I looked at her and cocked my head in disbelief. "You're sending him to participate in an Endbringer fight and you're worried about bullets? Fine, whatever." Turning back to her son, I explained, "Now Levi works with streams and waves of water, so you'll always want to point it in the direction the water is going to hit, as while it'll be easier to deflect it, anything hitting the flat planes of your shield will be much harder to deflect then it would with the normal bubble configuration. Furthermore, as your dad said, the shape will provide lift, allowing you to get to the surface in a hurry. Levi rarely crushes people that are on top of the water, but he's done so to people under-water with impunity."
"Bring people with you if you can, but if you have to make the choice between a smaller, stronger shield and saving more people, choose the stronger shield every time," I instructed him seriously. "You aren't responsible for the ones you don't save, as they would've died without you anyways. You are responsible for those you can, and if you die, anyone you might've saved in the future is likely going to die as well. Okay?"
"Okay," he echoed, looking to his parents who nodded in confirmation, their expressions both complex. I got sadness, resignation, anger, and a few other things I couldn't really recognize.
"Laserdream," I said, turning on my heel to face her. She blinked, surprised, with a definite deer in the headlights look. "You and your mother can do similar things, though your shields are smaller. I'd suggest you don't try to carry more than two people and always keep your shield tight. Your strength lies in your blasts."
I slipped out my 'sword' handle, forming the blade, covering it with a shield, and filling it with Darkness as I flicked the switch on, 'activating' it. Holding it up the 'blade' expanded, forming a matte-black shield. "Hit me as hard as you can."
"Are you sure?" she asked hesitantly. I nodded, and she shrugged, holding both hands forward. The space between them glowed a bright crimson, her power gathering the energy, before it was shot at me in a solid beam.
It struck my construct dead center, pushing me backwards slightly, my own crystalline shield straining to hold. She continued pushing it for several seconds before it cut out, my own shield breaking in the process, leaking Darkness everywhere. Dismissing it, I nodded. "Good, but could be better. Focus the blast more, concentrate it. If I can tank it, Levi'll be able to shrug it off, though he'll act like he's hurt."
"Act like it?" Manpower asked.
"Endbringers don't have blood," I told him. "Levi fakes it to draw people close. If he's pretending to be injured, run. He'll try to hit you as you do so, but you're a lot more likely to survive than if you get close. Hit hard, and get away."
I looked around at them, "Unless you're a Triumvirate-tier threat, or just below, you can't go toe to toe with him, and even then all it takes is a single mistake for him to capitalize on. First time around Legend got taken down, but Levi was driven off before he could finish the job. None of you are that strong, nor are you likely to be anytime soon. However, that doesn't mean we can't give you some claws."
"Flashbang, are you immune to your own blasts?" I asked, knowing the answer.
"Yes," he replied, without hesitation.
"You have three hours, look up shaped charges. Also, how long do your grenades last?"
"A couple hours, but if they get hit, they go off," he revealed, heading off my next question.
I nodded, "Shaped charges are your friend. Also, figure how much you can concentrate them and their range when you can. Point blank blasts might deflect an attack, but don't count on it. Your power would make a good 'throw and run' ability, but to be honest you really shouldn't be in this fight."
"It's my home," he shrugged, and I couldn't really argue that.
"Manpower," I said, facing the seven-foot-tall blonde man. "This is either going to blow your mind, or you've already thought about it."
He crossed his arms, looking down at me. "Go ahead."
"You control electromagnetism around you, right?" He looked at me for a long moment, before nodding, slowly. "Good. Railguns."
He stared at me for a long moment, looking slightly down at me, eyes slightly narrowed. "How," was the entirety of his response.
"Do you know what Lorentz force is?" Another shake of his head. "Okay, how far from your body can you project your field?" Looking at his shard, I knew the answer was a meter.
"Two and a half feet," he lied.
"More than enough," I smiled, continuing to explain the principals of a rail-gun, how the contrary rotating magnetic fields interacted with electricity being run through it. When trying to create the free-standing electricity was beyond his current skill level, I nodded, grabbing the quiver.
"I thought that might happen. In that case, let's try a coil-gun instead." This was far easier, just requiring a him to create a series of magnetic fields in sequence. Copying his power for myself helped me get a better sense of what he was doing, tweaking it until the concept worked completely. While doing so did create some recoil, most of what was visible in the form of a back-blast of air, a small fraction running through the larger man's arm which he easily shrugged off. For the force of the ball bearings he was firing over the bay, a sizeable amount of the recoil was missing, but I had to assume his power was absorbing it.
"This'll only work on ferrous materials, as opposed to Railguns which are anything that can conduct electricity," I said, handing him the quiver. "As such, I figured this might happen, so here you go. Give one of these a shot."
Manpower took the extra-large quiver, extracting a three-foot-long iron spike from the two foot long case, and giving me a questioning look as another spike popped up in place of the one he'd just removed. "It's bigger on the inside," I shrugged. I'd had the idea of it a few days ago, when I was considering how to use Momentum Infusion without obviously creating projectiles with Kaiser's power. It took a bit, but I was able to create a spring-loaded assembly inside a space made bigger with Armsmaster's secondary power. I couldn't use it for this fight, but that didn't mean I couldn't give another version of it to a different persona later on.
Taking to the air, I reformed my sword, growing it into a tower shield I could completely hide behind. The others, who had been working with their powers, all quieted down as I yelled, "Give it a shot!"
Able to see through my own shield, which was an opaque, inky black to everyone else, I saw Manpower look to Flashbang and Lady Photon. Flashbang looked to Glory Girl, who said, "It's fine. He does stuff like this," before he nodded back to his brother in law. Lady Photon looked up at me, before nodded back to her husband.
Giving a 'well, if you insist' shrug he raised his right arm, pointing it right at me. Dropping the spike over his arm, it stayed there, hovering and slowly rotating as it sparked with golden lightning. His power pulsed and fired, the spike accelerating in an instant as god knows how much energy flashed through it.
Crossing the distant between us in a flash, it left a burning line between us, but I was more focused on the impact. It broke my reformed crystalline shield to pieces and striking the construct it protected. The bolt, glowing hot from the firing process, ignited the shield in an explosion which sent Darkness in every direction as I was thrown backwards through the air, the shield on my chest breaking as well, though my armor and my face shielding held firm.
Tumbling up through the air, I stabilized myself, laughing as I flew back to the Pelhams backyard. A pigeon teleported nearby with a burst of wind, and I waved it off. "That was what I wanted," I told Mick, who nodded and disappeared with a matching gust, going back to wherever he'd been hiding.
Landing, I clapped, an irrepressible grin on my face. The rest of New Wave was staring at Manpower, who was looking at his own arm as if he didn't recognize it. "Now that's what I'm talking about!" I crowed. "Not bad for a first test. So, Glory Girl, what would you say that clocks in at. Blaster eight?"
Returning back to base, Curtis was leaning against the entrance, arms folded as he watched me land.
"Hey birdie," the man practically purred. "The cat's back."
"I wondered," I replied, tossing him one of the extra earpieces I'd been carrying. "Use this to keep in touch, after that it's up to you. Respect the Endbringer Truce, don't kill Levi, and other than that do what you do best."
He smiled widely, "Ooo, well isn't that sweet and tasty. My master's letting me off the leash? Well isn't that something new and. . . interestin'."
"The Endbringer Truce is your leash," I replied flatly. "This requires all hands on deck, even yours."
He mimed being shot, "Oh, hero, I'd almost think that was an insult, but you wouldn't be trying to provoke me again, would ya?"
I stared at him. "Curtis, I can either kill you now, or you can try your hand at hunting one of the toughest creatures in existence. Pick one."
The monster currently in human skin shook his head, "Come on V, you're no fun." I manifested an Air Blade. "I'm down with kickin' some big ass," he reassured me. "Just talkin' shit, no need to get rough." I didn't dismiss the blade. "Dontcha have a chill bone in your body, bud?" he asked, and I just stared at him, waiting for him to actually say something actionable.
His stand appeared, shifting into a cheetah with oversized canines which slowly stalked towards me.
I beheaded it.
"All I wanted was a little pet, but that's okay. I'll leave your little tightass to all your little worries. But like any good hunter, I'll always be waiting," he threatened, turning his back to me and slowly slinking off into the mess of rusty corridors that was the railyard. If I didn't need him for the coming fight, and if doing so wouldn't have moved back the possibility of getting an actually helpful replicant, I would've killed him where he stood. I could practically feel the smugness coming off him as he paused, barely for a moment, when he was a few steps away. When he continued, there was an extra swing to his steps.
Entering the base and calling everyone together, I had Theo grab his latest project. Everyone arrived, suited up for battle with the sisters in their full armor. Purity wore a suit of pure white plate armor which I'd had to dismiss Bitch's costume to create. Parian was working on a suit that didn't require me to use the anomalous material of my suit to create, but it wasn't going to be ready until next week at the earliest.
Our resident Tinker walked in carrying a case which he plopped on the table, clicking it open to reveal five identical pistols, each barrel studded with circular protrusions that glowed a dull brown. "Desiccation pistols," he announced. "Each one is good for twenty-three shots, and will destroy all water in a fifteen-foot cone. They won't hurt anyone, but it'll stop Levi's attacks cold. Er, dry," he finished lamely.
"That's ode Gucci!" Glory Girl exclaimed, flying over. "Can I?" she asked the boy, using the non-powered Master effect of smiling honestly and giving him puppy dog eyes.
"Uh, sure," he replied dumbly, his brain shutting down at the unexpected female attention. She grabbed one, looking it over, and he blinked as his power flared, suddenly confident. "The trigger's meant for normal people, so you'll need to be careful since it'll fire easier than you think. There's a safety on the side you need to switch to turn it on, and it can stay ready for the rest of the day no problem. Don't put your finger on the trigger until you're ready to fire," he cautioned, causing her to blush as she almost fired it accidentally. "When you have five shots left the light on the top will start blinking. I can't be there to fight with you, but with this I can still help," he grinned almost roguishly.
"Great, thanks!" she smiled, flying back to where she was, looking it over.
Rolling my eyes, I walked over, grabbing one for myself, the Tinker jumping slightly as I did so. "Good work Theo. Lady Bug, Break, Purity, come over here, you each get one." They did so, holstering their weapons, though Taylor was hesitant in taking the gun, looking to me for confirmation before taking it and attaching it, along with the holster that came with it, to the back of her belt. The weapon rested, concealed in the small of her back, one of the few lightly armored portions of her costume.
Opening my arms in an all-encompassing gesture, I asked, "Everyone ready to go?" At the chorus of nods, I let out a long sigh and dropped my hands to my sides, having run out of things to say to prepare them. "Okay, those going out will meet at the heroes meeting at eleven, which is in two hours. Glory Girl, if you want to use the 'hover sled' I got during the ABB Raids, Zilla can tell you where I stashed it. Anyone have any questions?"
Everyone looked at each other, Panacea speaking up, "Are you sure we can do this? We're fighting an Endbringer."
"Yes," I replied simply. "We're doing this intelligently, and we're a powerful group with powers and protections that most don't have. Is there a chance things will go bad? Yes, yes there is, but Levi was going to come here no matter what. This time around, you all are much more prepared, and even if it costs us, Break and I will do our best to make sure you live through this."
In a 'cruel calculous of war' way, Herb and I keeping our true strengths hidden was more important than the lives of those we'd gathered. However, I'd risk being outed if it meant Taylor, Victoria, or Amelia would survive. I'd be willing to let Kayden die, but Herb wouldn't, and he wouldn't hesitate to save the girls either. I felt a pang of guilt, as I would hesitate. I had when the thought occurred to me, after all, but I'd made my decision and I'd live with it. "This fight's not going to be like anything you've ever faced, but if we're careful, smart, and just a little lucky, we can all come through this alive," I promised them, hoping I was right. "I'll see you at the meeting, and best of luck to you all."
The group split up, Taylor and Amy heading out together, while Herb & Kayden moved to the side to discuss something. The woman still wasn't happy with my teammate, but she had enough professionalism to know they'd need to work together in battle. Victoria walked over to me, suddenly unsure. "What's up Glory Girl?" I asked, curious at the hesitation writ large across her face, her helmet tucked under her arm.
"I, I need to ask a favor," she admitted, trailing off. I waited, and she continued, "I totes need you to help my family get ready." I raised an eyebrow, but didn't say no. "I get that you aren't a fan, and if you're still salty about what Mom did, I sorta get it, she was throwin' stupid amounts of shade, but. . . I don't want my family to die," she admitted, voice small, desperation filling her tone. I was glad her sister had left, and Herb glanced over at me, but I shook my head. "Like, I'll be there for Dean, because of course I will, but I'm worried about them. They've fought before, but never against an Endbringer," she revealed. "They always had a reason, but it's coming here, and I know they're not gonna bail. I know you don't like them, but please, help them? For me?"
I let out a slow breath. She was right, I had a multitude of reasons to despise New Wave, but, to be honest, most of those boiled down to Brandish, and the others' protection/backing of the woman. Besides, I'd gotten to the point where they were no threat to me, and I only had things to gain by helping them survive this in order to help with the coming crisis. Whether they'd get off their self-important asses to actually help afterwards was another matter, but it would cost me very little and might just give them a chance to be the heroes they claimed to be.
"Okay, I will," I agreed, and had to double check for her Charm Field as she seemed to light up, physically lifting off the ground in relief. "I'll meet you at the entrance in ten minutes, then we'll fly over and I'll give them a crash course. I'm not promising that I'll be nice, but I'll help them."
Vicky jumped up and gave me what would've been a bone-crushing hug for anyone else. "You are so the GOAT!" she cheered, flying out of the room. Theo watched her leave while Kayden and Herb smiled at me, the latter giving out a disturbingly realistic 'baaa'.
Flipping him off, I left as well, plans already forming on how I'd handle New Wave.
It was only as we were descending towards the Pelham's house that a thought occurred to me. "You did tell them we were coming, right?"
"Pfft, duh," she said, stopping her descent, reaching for her belt pocket. "But lemme text someone real quick."
"Just call your aunt, she'll handle the others," I suggested as Zilla did so, connecting Vicky's phone to the earpiece she was wearing so she didn't have to try to handle her phone and helmet mid-air. She jumped, shot me a look, but nodded in agreement.
"Hi, aunt Sarah? It's Vicky. Yeah, I was wondering if I could come over for a bit. No, just for a little bit, I'm bringing Vejovis," she said, pausing a bit as Lady Photon replied. "No, he can help! He really can! He's helped me get a lot stronger, and he can help you too! Yes, he totes can!" she argued.
"If it helps, tell her I've helped Gallant, Miss Militia, and a few other PRT heroes," I advised.
"He's helped Dean and he's helped the Protectorate!" she told her aunt. "I was there for when he talked to the air guy in Texas. Yeah, him! Um, a minute? Yeah, we're over the house. Sorry, I forgot, and you said I could come home if I needed to!" she whined.
I rolled my eyes as I made a seat in the air and sat down, trying not to disturb the quiver slung across my back. Looking down at the Pelham's house, several hundred feet down, I saw the front door open and someone who burned with the White & Purple Flames of Kinetic Forcefields. I waved.
"Yes, he's right here with me," Vicky said. "Yeah, we can wait a few minutes. We can wait a few minutes, right?" she asked me, and I nodded, holding up an open hand. "He said he'll wait five. Okay."
"Sorry," she apologized, having hung up.
"It happens," I shrugged.
We hung there in the air, waiting, awkwardly. "So. . . Leviathan?" she finally asked.
I nodded, "He's going to try to agitate the aquifer underneath Brockton Bay to turn it into quicksand and sink the entire city, as well as kill certain people. In the original timeline he was stopped, but a lot of people died."
"Like Dean," she said quietly. I nodded. "Why?" she asked, sounding more confused than anything. "He's strong, but not 'throw down with Endbringers' strong. He's tough, but that's just his armor. Why. . . why send him to fight that?"
I just had to shrug. "Maybe it was incompetence, as Armsmaster was still running the Protectorate. Maybe it was malignance, given the rarity of human Masters working for the PRT. Maybe it was just them throwing everyone they had at the problem, regardless if they could help or not. I don't actually know."
"What does Armsmaster being in charge have to do with Dean dying?" she questioned, confusion still dominating her tone, but it was more of an active consternation than the helpless lack of understanding it had been before.
"Talk to Break or The Lady, Bug," I replied, not wanting to get into it right now. "Just know that with you there, and trained up, and with Dean telling his superiors to go pound sand if they try to make him fight Levi, his chances are much better."
"Not his chances, he's going to survive!" she declared, and I could practically feel the challenging glare from behind her helmet.
"We'll all do our best," I agreed, which from her harrumph she wasn't exactly happy with, but I didn't want to promise something that I couldn't deliver on. "That's why we're here and. . . shit."
"What?" she asked, looking around, hand going to the hilt of her sword. "Is he here?"
"No. . . but your mother is."
"That's not a bad thing," Glory Girl dismissed, and I turned to give her a disbelieving look.
"The last time I met your mother, she tried to kill me. Literally. She tried to take my head off with an energy sword, attempting to murder me when I was refusing to fight her," I pointed out. "How is this not a bad thing?"
Glory Girl was silent for a moment, saved from having to respond by her phone ringing. "We'll be right there," she promised, hanging up. "Okay, we can go down," she told me needlessly, dodging the subject as she started her descent.
Sighing, I followed her down to the shared backyard of the Pelham and Dallon households, where New Wave had gathered. They'd formed a defensive semi-circle, which Vicky moved to join without seeming to realize what it meant. I got a good look at each member, Seeing their powers more deeply than I had the night of the mayor's gala. Actively searching the Flames for a hint of the capability to pull off what I planned, I got the sense that it was within the shard's power, though how well it'd actually work and if their hosts had the skill to pull it off was another matter entirely.
"Victoria, is that really you?" Flashbang asked hesitantly, his wife glaring daggers at me as I silently landed a few feet behind the armored girl, dropping my duffel bag and the long quiver across my back.
Her daughter, reached up and took her helmet off, looking a bit unsure, but smiling brightly. "Hi dad! Yeah, Vejy got me some armor."
"Given the propensity of the criminals to use firearms during and after the ABB's insanity, I thought it prudent," I remarked neutrally. Brandish could go die in a fire for all I cared, but Mark got almost no characterization in Canon. He was depressed, and then suffered brain damage during the Leviathan fight, so I completely understood his lack of action, but the man before me didn't appear to be suffering in the slightest.
"Thank you for keeping my little girl safe," he said seriously, his gratitude obvious, and I wasn't really sure how to respond.
"Um," I said, a bit off balance, "you're wel-"
"Safe? You think he's been keeping her safe?" Brandish interrupted. "When she's with her?"
Ah. This I can deal with. "I'm sorry, there's several 'hers' you could be referring to. I reassure you that Purity has indeed turned over-"
"You know exactly who I'm talking to. Tell me, Vejovis, how many of her little creations have you had to put down?" she spat, and, this time, I had no idea what she was talking about. By the expressions of the others, I wasn't the only one who was confused.
"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked.
"Don't play dumb," she replied, expression nasty.
"Right," I said, turning to focus on her sister. "So I'm here to help all of you but Brandish, as I have a standing policy of not helping people who have tried to kill me in the past without good reason."
"Don't you ignore me!" Brandish yelled, taking a step forward and forming a longsword from crackling energy. I ignored her.
"Carol," Flashbang said firmly, putting a hand on her shoulder, "What are you talking about? Is this about your nightmares?"
"They aren't nightmares!" she yelled, pulling away. "They're real and he knows they're real!"
From the Pelham's expressions, they were just in the dark as I was. Victoria stepped forward, "Mom, what are you talking about?"
"It's his fault!" she declared, pointing her weapon at me. "If he hadn't shown up you wouldn't have turned your back on me!"
"I didn't!" Vicky denied, hurt. "I helped my sister!"
"You don't have a sister!" Brandish hissed, hatred in her eyes.
"Yes, you do," Flashbang stated with authority.
"Mark!" Brandish exclaimed, as if she were the one being betrayed.
He shook his head, telling her, "We've talked about this, Carol. Go inside."
"Not while he's here!" she declared.
Before this could devolve even further, I spoke up. "Brandish, you're not a threat, you're just wasting my time. I didn't hurt you when you tried to kill me, not because I was scared, but because you weren't worth the effort. I'm here as a favor to your daughter, so either stop yelling at me and let me say my piece, help your family survive, and leave, or I will make you leave. Your choice." Even as I said it, I realized I could've been nicer, but my patience for those who accused me of rape, statutory or otherwise, was nonexistent, and she'd long since exhausted it even that.
"Now you're threatening me?" she shrieked, turning to the others. "Why aren't you doing anything?"
Lady Photon winced. "Carol, go inside."
"You're talking his side?" the crazy woman with the energy sword gasped.
"No," her sister disagreed, "There aren't any sides, Carol. I understand, you don't like him, but there's an Endbringer coming here, for god's sake! Maybe you're right, but that doesn't matter right now. Go inside."
"No!" she declared, turning to face me. "You might have fooled them, but I know the truth."
"Jesus Christ woman, I'm not Marquis," I sighed. "I'm both not a villain, but I also have no honor code against fighting women for you to hide behind. Listen to your family before you do something stupid."
I knew this wasn't exactly de-escalating the situation, but that wasn't my goal. My goal was to get this over with. Looking around, I'd need to move to the left to have the ocean at my back. Brandish took the bait, because of course she did, and charged me. "And now we have murder attempt number two," I commented blandly, and Brandish was on me before her sister could hold her back. The woman was predictable to a fault, though that might've just been my ability to see her power work.
She swung her sword for my head, and I reached up and caught the blade, the blow not even draining the crystalline shield covering it, the heat neutralized by one power before I could even ignore it with another. I commented conversationally, "Sphere, please," as she made a dagger in her off hand and swung it for my stomach, the blade harmlessly skidding off my armor.
As my free hand came up, she reflexively sphered, her form condensing into a foot-wide ball of orange-white light. Not holding back, I slammed that sphere with my palm as hard as I could, draining the crystalline shield as I did so.
The world slowed, as my perceptions temporarily accelerated for a reason I still didn't understand, and the sphere rippled as it absorbed the kinetic energy being transferred into it. With the sound like a cannon going off, Brandish's sphered form blasted up and away, leaving the city limits in a matter of seconds with a sharp crack as she broke the sound barrier. With a bit of Acoustokinesis to keep the sound from hurting anyone, the shockwave still pushed everyone back slightly.
"Mom!" Vicky yelled as Brandish seemed to disappear.
The others brought their powers up, and I dusted my hands off. "She'll be fine. You didn't want her to get hurt, and she'll probably be touching down in New York. Maybe now she won't try to kill me a third time. I swear to god if she wasn't your mother." I looked around at the others, ready to fight.
Knowing what they could do, I could take them down without breaking a sweat. "Yeah, that's cute. You can attack me, and I'll try to take you all down without hurting you, or I can try to help you all survive. Besides, you'd think that, with her being a lawyer, she'd realize what breaking the Endbringer Truce would result in, but I won't say anything if you all don't."
That took the wind out of their sails. I know I was being the 'tough guy', but I didn't care about this bunch of rule-breaking, honorless, blight on the name of heroes. However, Shielder and Laserdream didn't deserve to be judged by their parent's action, and Vicky did ask, but there were dozens of things I could rather be doing and this entire fiasco had already eaten through a good chunk of my quickly diminishing time.
"She's fine?" Vicky asked.
"Her ego's likely bruised, but," I smoothly reached behind myself and pulled out my pistol, New Wave stiffening, "If I wanted her dead, I'd just shoot her." Stowing the weapon, I turned my back on them and walked over to the duffel bag, pulling out the long, pointy, flattened, teardrop-looking piece of metal out. "So, this applies to Shielder mostly, but also Laserdream and Lady Photon, since you all have the same basic power. So, Shielder," The boy, who had been primed to create a shield, did so, dismissing it as I looked at him expectantly, though he was ready to pop it back up again. "Quick question, why do you always make your shields circular?"
"I. . . Uh. . . what?" he stuttered, looking to his mother for help.
"Listen," I sighed, "Even if I wanted to hurt you, which I don't, I wouldn't be dumb enough to do it during an Endbringer attack. Yes, if you wanted to try squirm out of the restriction like a villain you could try to argue that the attack hasn't technically started, but I'm here to help you survive. The PD's got a Thinker to give us some numbers and without me coming here you die," I told him, the poor kid paling.
"As does your father, while your uncle suffers brain damage," I pressed, You guys are theoretically heroes, even if you did jack-all the last few weeks. Also, more than just fighting Levi, your cousin has asked that I come over here to help you all out. For whatever reason I don't think of powers like most people do, which lets me find new uses very quickly. So. Why the hemisphere? I know you can shape it, since you make it a circle when you fly, but you flatten out the bottom on land. So, why a circle?"
"I. . . I don't know," he said, sounding on the edge of panic.
"Look, if you're not dumb then you're not going to die this time. So, make your shield, and then make it look like this," I instructed, tossing him the hollow piece of metal. He fumbled as he caught it, barely, looking down at it then up at me.
"You can do it!" Vicky told him, and he looked at her, then at his mother, who was frowning in thought. He looked down at the shape in his hands, holding one out, his blue shield springing back up around him, perfectly circular.
"Girls, you do the same. I know yours aren't as strong, but they should be strong enough for this," I instructed, casually taking a seat on thin air. That earned me some odd looks, but a crimson and purple shield quickly joined the blue, all three starting to ripple and shimmer, like they were made of glowing Jell-O.
Leaning back and Seeing their powers at work, it was fascinating. All three were working, but in slightly different ways, but for every bit of progress one made, the other two quickly followed suite. My own power wanted to go and copy all three, but I had a moment of indecision. On one hand, they were theoretically heroes. On the other, they sure as hell weren't acting like it, which was really my metric, and I was already doing them a service. Combined with the fact that, despite my efforts, there was a good chance they'd die, made the decision easier.
Interestingly, I didn't copy three powers, I copied one. Copying Shielder, I gained Kinetic Forcefields. Copying his mother's power, the power warped and changed, adding increased blast power, flight speed, and ability to shift focus between blasts and shields. Copying his sister's, it changed again, further increasing blast power and flight speed. Turning back to watching their progress, it was picking up, all progress anyone made copied by my power and then by others immediately.
Manpower, who was splitting his focus between myself and his family, offered advice to them to help smooth out the shapes, viewing them from the outside. Meanwhile Flashbang was talking to his daughter, who seemed happy, though she did send me an annoyed look when she saw I was looking at her.
Okay, blasting her mother off at the speed of sound was probably not the best of ideas, but having been on the end of baseless accusations, and seeing firsthand the damage a crazy or malicious person could do ('obviously if there's smoke there's fire, people don't just make things up out of nowhere, after all', being what most people think, which is exactly what the liar counts on), it was quite cathartic to lay her out. I hoped that once she realized the power gulf between us, and that, now that I'd explicitly told her, she didn't have any special protections, that she'd cut it out. I was aware that that was unlikely.
As the shapes were firming, I stood up. "Good, now, do you know why I had you make those shapes?"
Manpower shared a look with his wife. "They're aerodynamic, like an airplane's wing. It'll make it easier to carry people when flying. Providing lift from moving forward instead of having to lift yourself up."
I nodded, not actually having thought about that. "While true, it is an aerofoil, that's not why it's important to know now. You are going to be fighting against Leviathan, who's all power and very little finesse. Shielder, could you make your round shield please?" I requested, walking to put the ocean behind him as he did so. I smoothly unholstered my pistol and shot it in a place that wouldn't hit anyone if it popped. The kid grunted as he tanked the round, but it held steady. Ignoring the glare from his parents, and the exasperated sigh from Glory Girl, I nodded. "Good, now the shield I showed you, pointing the front towards me."
He did so, watching the gun in my hand in apprehension. Aiming again above and to his side, Lady Photon raised her hand to create a shield but Manpower shook his head, watching me closely. I fired again, the bullet deflecting off the shape and flying out over the bay. "Easier, right?" I asked, holstering my weapon.
"Um, yeah?" he replied, surprised.
"Can you please not shoot at my children again?" Lady Photon asked, visibly annoyed.
I looked at her and cocked my head in disbelief. "You're sending him to participate in an Endbringer fight and you're worried about bullets? Fine, whatever." Turning back to her son, I explained, "Now Levi works with streams and waves of water, so you'll always want to point it in the direction the water is going to hit, as while it'll be easier to deflect it, anything hitting the flat planes of your shield will be much harder to deflect then it would with the normal bubble configuration. Furthermore, as your dad said, the shape will provide lift, allowing you to get to the surface in a hurry. Levi rarely crushes people that are on top of the water, but he's done so to people under-water with impunity."
"Bring people with you if you can, but if you have to make the choice between a smaller, stronger shield and saving more people, choose the stronger shield every time," I instructed him seriously. "You aren't responsible for the ones you don't save, as they would've died without you anyways. You are responsible for those you can, and if you die, anyone you might've saved in the future is likely going to die as well. Okay?"
"Okay," he echoed, looking to his parents who nodded in confirmation, their expressions both complex. I got sadness, resignation, anger, and a few other things I couldn't really recognize.
"Laserdream," I said, turning on my heel to face her. She blinked, surprised, with a definite deer in the headlights look. "You and your mother can do similar things, though your shields are smaller. I'd suggest you don't try to carry more than two people and always keep your shield tight. Your strength lies in your blasts."
I slipped out my 'sword' handle, forming the blade, covering it with a shield, and filling it with Darkness as I flicked the switch on, 'activating' it. Holding it up the 'blade' expanded, forming a matte-black shield. "Hit me as hard as you can."
"Are you sure?" she asked hesitantly. I nodded, and she shrugged, holding both hands forward. The space between them glowed a bright crimson, her power gathering the energy, before it was shot at me in a solid beam.
It struck my construct dead center, pushing me backwards slightly, my own crystalline shield straining to hold. She continued pushing it for several seconds before it cut out, my own shield breaking in the process, leaking Darkness everywhere. Dismissing it, I nodded. "Good, but could be better. Focus the blast more, concentrate it. If I can tank it, Levi'll be able to shrug it off, though he'll act like he's hurt."
"Act like it?" Manpower asked.
"Endbringers don't have blood," I told him. "Levi fakes it to draw people close. If he's pretending to be injured, run. He'll try to hit you as you do so, but you're a lot more likely to survive than if you get close. Hit hard, and get away."
I looked around at them, "Unless you're a Triumvirate-tier threat, or just below, you can't go toe to toe with him, and even then all it takes is a single mistake for him to capitalize on. First time around Legend got taken down, but Levi was driven off before he could finish the job. None of you are that strong, nor are you likely to be anytime soon. However, that doesn't mean we can't give you some claws."
"Flashbang, are you immune to your own blasts?" I asked, knowing the answer.
"Yes," he replied, without hesitation.
"You have three hours, look up shaped charges. Also, how long do your grenades last?"
"A couple hours, but if they get hit, they go off," he revealed, heading off my next question.
I nodded, "Shaped charges are your friend. Also, figure how much you can concentrate them and their range when you can. Point blank blasts might deflect an attack, but don't count on it. Your power would make a good 'throw and run' ability, but to be honest you really shouldn't be in this fight."
"It's my home," he shrugged, and I couldn't really argue that.
"Manpower," I said, facing the seven-foot-tall blonde man. "This is either going to blow your mind, or you've already thought about it."
He crossed his arms, looking down at me. "Go ahead."
"You control electromagnetism around you, right?" He looked at me for a long moment, before nodding, slowly. "Good. Railguns."
He stared at me for a long moment, looking slightly down at me, eyes slightly narrowed. "How," was the entirety of his response.
"Do you know what Lorentz force is?" Another shake of his head. "Okay, how far from your body can you project your field?" Looking at his shard, I knew the answer was a meter.
"Two and a half feet," he lied.
"More than enough," I smiled, continuing to explain the principals of a rail-gun, how the contrary rotating magnetic fields interacted with electricity being run through it. When trying to create the free-standing electricity was beyond his current skill level, I nodded, grabbing the quiver.
"I thought that might happen. In that case, let's try a coil-gun instead." This was far easier, just requiring a him to create a series of magnetic fields in sequence. Copying his power for myself helped me get a better sense of what he was doing, tweaking it until the concept worked completely. While doing so did create some recoil, most of what was visible in the form of a back-blast of air, a small fraction running through the larger man's arm which he easily shrugged off. For the force of the ball bearings he was firing over the bay, a sizeable amount of the recoil was missing, but I had to assume his power was absorbing it.
"This'll only work on ferrous materials, as opposed to Railguns which are anything that can conduct electricity," I said, handing him the quiver. "As such, I figured this might happen, so here you go. Give one of these a shot."
Manpower took the extra-large quiver, extracting a three-foot-long iron spike from the two foot long case, and giving me a questioning look as another spike popped up in place of the one he'd just removed. "It's bigger on the inside," I shrugged. I'd had the idea of it a few days ago, when I was considering how to use Momentum Infusion without obviously creating projectiles with Kaiser's power. It took a bit, but I was able to create a spring-loaded assembly inside a space made bigger with Armsmaster's secondary power. I couldn't use it for this fight, but that didn't mean I couldn't give another version of it to a different persona later on.
Taking to the air, I reformed my sword, growing it into a tower shield I could completely hide behind. The others, who had been working with their powers, all quieted down as I yelled, "Give it a shot!"
Able to see through my own shield, which was an opaque, inky black to everyone else, I saw Manpower look to Flashbang and Lady Photon. Flashbang looked to Glory Girl, who said, "It's fine. He does stuff like this," before he nodded back to his brother in law. Lady Photon looked up at me, before nodded back to her husband.
Giving a 'well, if you insist' shrug he raised his right arm, pointing it right at me. Dropping the spike over his arm, it stayed there, hovering and slowly rotating as it sparked with golden lightning. His power pulsed and fired, the spike accelerating in an instant as god knows how much energy flashed through it.
Crossing the distant between us in a flash, it left a burning line between us, but I was more focused on the impact. It broke my reformed crystalline shield to pieces and striking the construct it protected. The bolt, glowing hot from the firing process, ignited the shield in an explosion which sent Darkness in every direction as I was thrown backwards through the air, the shield on my chest breaking as well, though my armor and my face shielding held firm.
Tumbling up through the air, I stabilized myself, laughing as I flew back to the Pelhams backyard. A pigeon teleported nearby with a burst of wind, and I waved it off. "That was what I wanted," I told Mick, who nodded and disappeared with a matching gust, going back to wherever he'd been hiding.
Landing, I clapped, an irrepressible grin on my face. The rest of New Wave was staring at Manpower, who was looking at his own arm as if he didn't recognize it. "Now that's what I'm talking about!" I crowed. "Not bad for a first test. So, Glory Girl, what would you say that clocks in at. Blaster eight?"
Hmm. That might be a problem.
Isn't the real win condition during an Endbringer fight not "applying respectable cosmetic damage", but "making Eidolon look good" with a fallback of "run out the clock until Scion shows up"?
And the last would be a critical fail in this case with Lee and co around.
Isn't the real win condition during an Endbringer fight not "applying respectable cosmetic damage", but "making Eidolon look good" with a fallback of "run out the clock until Scion shows up"?
And the last would be a critical fail in this case with Lee and co around.
- Location
- Yuritopia
Actually if Lee wasn't there, Zion showing up would be fine as his reaction to Contessa, the only other confirmed Abbadon host, was confusion not murder, it's just that Zion would stop at nothing to claim Lee's shard, on account of it being negentropic, and that's a bad end because then Zion doesn't have worry about energy constraints on his shards.
- Location
- Oregon, USA
But would he be able to tell that it's Negentropic?
Deadline 12.3
- Location
- United States of America
Deadline 12.3
Wrapping up with New Wave, I left with a warning that even that wouldn't be enough to seriously injure Leviathan, just knock him back. That might be overestimating the Endbringer's toughness, but I'd rather have them be pleasantly surprised then be overconfident. I returned back to base to complete the last of my preparations, still ahead of schedule. My normal weapons wouldn't so much as annoy Levi, so I traded out my pistol for something that'd only taken Theo a few hours to whip up.
With the only requirement being 'semi-auto, magazine fed, and requiring a Brute rating of one to fire', he'd gone a bit overboard. Slipping the oversized pistol out of its case, I grabbed one of the five magazines it came with, each holding five twenty-millimeter rounds he'd personally made for it. The rounds looked, off. Normally there was a certain ratio of bullet to cartridge, but these things were 90% projectile, 10% everything else, allowing them to fit in a magazine smaller than a textbook, further shortened by a bit of Armsmaster's secondary power to allow the thing to be a minor extradimensional space, resulting in a bar of metal that was four inches long, 1 inch wide, and one inch deep.
Trying to fire an anti-materiel round with a pistol would've broken a regular person's wrist on its own, but with the Speed Zones lining the barrel, even I needed to enhance myself to use it. If I hadn't been able to reinforce my joints with projected metal, I'd have needed to discharge a shield every time I wanted to fire the damn thing. After testing, I'd had to have had Theo repair the gun from the stress of firing, which had then turned into a redesign of the entire assembly to work with the speed zones contained within, which had only taken him another hour. Tinkers, with proper support, were bullshit.
Holstering the weapon, and my four spare clips, I tried to think of what else was left. I could make melee weapons with Metal Creation if I needed to, and there wasn't much else I could do with my powers. Vejovis' build really didn't lend itself to Endbringer fights. Glory Girl's power was a good enough base, but Bug Control, which was practically useless, combined with a bio-manipulation power that I didn't dare use to its fullest extent meant that, while he was good in small circumstances, he was completely outclassed in this situation.
Cheating subtly with Aerokinesis, Speed Zones, and maybe Spatial Manipulation would help, but getting through the day without outing myself was going to be a bitch and a half considering I couldn't just act as support, I was going to have to throw down with Leviathan to fulfill the terms of my. . . choices? My contract with Abaddon? I wasn't really sure how to frame it, but in the end it didn't really matter.
I could lean more heavily on Metal Projection if I needed to, use Size Manipulation to shrink projectiles, and use Momentum Infusion to 'throw' things, but anything more than I'd hold in reserve. If I really needed to, I could say 'fuck it' and let loose, throwing suns, creating Hard Light tentacles, and blasting with Light while hiding in Shadow, but there'd be no coming back from that.
I'd live, and I could, if not defeat Levi, fight him to a standstill that way. That wasn't even counting in the powers I was about to grab. If they were heroes, and they lived through the fight, I wouldn't use the copied powers. However, given how the death toll of these things, if I didn't grab some of these powers now then I never would be able to.
Speaking of which, I called upon the powers I'd just acquired. Kinetic forcefields blazed to life in my hands, not glowing but seeming to burn with Purple & Red Flames, the same flames that burned when I covered an air-blade with a weapon shield. Fair enough, I thought. Given how they were color coded, I'd expected that to be the case, though the flames were an odd touch. Flipping over to Manpower's ability, I brought it online, only for it to. . . bounce?
It wasn't like trying to use Night or Fog's ability, I could mentally grasp it fairly easily, but as soon as I tried to use it, it wouldn't click. It was an odd feeling, like trying to turn the key in an ignition, only to find there was already a key there. A key that started an entirely different car. It wasn't the best metaphor. Is there a limit to how many powers I can copy? Have I hit it?
No, I thought, I copied it, I just can't use it. If there was a limit, then it'd make sense that I could copy, but not use, more powers until my Unlimited Shard Works grew in strength (as all Abaddon Shard based powers constantly did) to handle them. I could add them to my repertoire, just not grasp them to use yet. I'd finally hit the cap with Lady Photon's power, and with time I'd be able to handle more, I'd just need to be more careful about which ones I activated from now on.
That was assuming, of course, that it wasn't something entirely different, as, if I was being honest, I had no idea what was going on, but it could wait. None of my plans required me to use newly copied powers, so I'd still try to keep copying, even if I wasn't able to utilize them. If I could use one, it'd be Manpower's, since the methods of his strength and toughness would likely stack with Glory Girl's, creating, if not a multiplicative effect, then at least an additive one.
Flechette definitely jumped up in priority, however. I needed to copy her power from her, and to save if I could, but this didn't change my short-term plans. I needed to survive, I needed to keep Taylor, Amy, & Vicky safe, I needed to keep my true powers hidden, and I needed to keep this fight from turning into a bloodbath, in that order.
I couldn't remember where everyone gathered the first time around, but I arrived twenty minutes early at the convention center that was serving as a staging ground for the heroes before Levi made landfall. The place was abuzz with activity, hundreds of parahumans milling about outside, so many that I couldn't pick out any individual power. The Flames and Auras overlapped each other, giving me a headache when I tried to pick them out individually to See them.
Before I stepped into the building proper, I looked for one Flame in particular. Noting an area that had been set up near the entrance, with tape blocking it off from foot-traffic except for one section with a tape arrow pointing outwards, I waited. It took a minute, but there was a warping of air and suddenly there were a dozen parahumans. I knew Strider was male, but other than that I didn't know who to focus on, the Flames and Auras of everyone's powers stacking up and muddling any cursory read.
A man in black and blue, with a lightning bolt jacket, suddenly disappeared, the air twisting around where he'd just been. Right, gone in a flash, like a bolt of lightning, I mused, waiting. He was back a minute later, and I got a better look at him, able to See the Silver & Black Flames of Area Teleportation among the mess of other powers, though before I could get a good read on it, it collapsed in on itself in a blazing vortex and he was gone once more. The six others he brought walked off, and it was another two minutes before he arrived once more, with three more, all of which seemingly in cold-weather gear. My power reached out to his, but it couldn't get a good handle until the power pulsed and he disappeared once more, leaving behind a single, glowing ember of power which was carefully pulled back to me.
It blazed to life but, having no idea how it worked and not wanting to accidentally use Striders power in front of everyone else, I didn't pull it up. That was assuming I could even use it in the first place, and I hadn't been correct about hitting my limit, or that, like Trickster, something about me disallowed teleportation, or that something entirely different was happening entirely. There was nothing I could do now; I'd deal with that later. Having already stood outside the door for nearly ten minutes, and starting to attract a few looks, I moved through the doors into the lobby of the convention center. If I'd thought there were a lot of parahumans outside, I was completely unprepared for what met me inside. There were hundreds of parahumans gathered here, their Shards overwhelming me as I had to wrestle my Power Sight down before I walked into something, or someone.
Blinking my eyes clear, I tried to find a familiar face. New Wave was here, Manpower's quiver slung across his back. Victoria was over with Dean, the other Brockton Bay Wards gathered around them as they spoke quietly, along with what seemed to be the Wards from other cities. They turned, almost as one, and stared at me. Their expressions rang the gamut from impressed, to dismissive, to evaluative. I gave them a solid nod and continued to look around. Feeling Taylor's presence, I glanced over and saw her and Panacea off to the side, a muscular guy in what looked like a He-man costume talking to them as they both looked like they wanted to be anywhere but there.
'Help' Taylor wrote in bugs in a vent, and I rolled my eyes as I walked over, hearing the tail end of what the guy was saying, "After this we should spend some time together. I'm the Apotheosis of humanity, after all. You won't be disappointed."
"Everything all right?" I asked, getting twin thankful glances from the pair. The other guy noticed and turned to face me, his expression annoyed but quickly shifting to an aggressive smile.
"Haven't seen you before. You must be new. I'm Apotheosis," the man said, offering his hand.
"Vejovis," I replied distractedly, taking the hand as I focused to See him. Screened as he was by powers I already knew, I was able to get a glimpse of what he could do. He wasn't wrong, I supposed, he had an Aura of Peak Physical Potential. It was hard to get the details from his power, but it seemed similar to Peak Condition, just inferior to the version Herb, Charlie, or I had.
His grip was unusually firm, and it took me a moment for me to realize he was trying to crush my hand. I let go, looking down amusedly as he squeezed harder. "Sorry, I don't swing that way. Can you please let go of my hand?"
He scowled and did so, moving to walk away, bouncing off as he tried to shove me with his shoulder. He recovered and strode off, muttering under his breath about cockblockers. "Villain?" I asked the other two.
"I wish," Taylor replied, shaking her head and looking up at me, tense anticipation radiating off of her. "This is really happening." I nodded, not really sure what else to say. "Okay," she told herself, nodding in return. "Okay, we can do this."
Panacea expression was hidden behind her helmet, but her body language seemed to indicate indecision before she put a hand on the bug controller's arm. "We'll be in the back. We'll be fine." I'd never really noticed how much shorter than Taylor Amelia was, the bug controller having a good six inches on the Biokinetic, but the gesture seemed to help.
"You've done this before?" Lady Bug asked, turning to look at the her.
The healer nodded, "You're with me, so we'll both be safe." She turned to look at me, "And you'll keep Vicky safe." It wasn't a question as much as a command, but I didn't mind.
"Even if I have to pull out the stops," I promised. Mollified, she pulled her hand back, crossing them once again, the armor under her robes making the gesture awkward.
Falling into an uneasy silence, I looked around, trying to spot heroes that were stand apart to See their powers. It was a wild mix: Matter Absorption, Coral Creation & Manipulation, Ammo Tinker, Laser Form, Bubble Blasts, Hardening, Imperfection Bestowment, Personal Velocity Manipulation, the list went on.
Scanning the Wards, I Saw several powers there, Bullet Form, Weapon Empowerment, Mist Binding and others, before I spotted the one I wanted. Dressed in purple and white, her power blazed in the same colors, the intensity of the flames nearly making my eyes water. Unlike the other powers, I didn't get a description, but what felt like a name in my mind.
This was STING, and it could be nothing else. Even looking at it made my head hurt, but I new for sure I'd be able to pick it out if I needed to later on. She was talking with others, and hadn't noticed my staring, likely due to my turning my face to the crowd as a whole as I Saw her out of the corner of my eye.
Actually that might be a good idea. Looking around the room, I tried to spot another power of similar strength, as this pre-meeting gathering would make for a great scouting opportunity. Sadly, none of them seemed to jump out at me, each of them muddled and screened by all the others. I could focus in on people individually, with powers ranging from Terrakinetic Whips to Inertia Cancelling, the latter with a cooldown that scaled with the force cancelled, but nothing really stood out in power.
A familiar Burnt Orange & Bright Yellow Aura caught my eye, and I told the girls, "Be right back," as I made my way to the crowd towards Sundancer. She was leaning against a wall in her old costume, holding her left arm with her right as discomfort and nervousness practically hummed through her stance.
"Sundancer," I called as I got close, causing her to jump in surprise.
Her expression was unreadable behind her helmet, but the way she said "Vejovis," caused me to smile.
"I hadn't heard from you since the Truce ended," I greeted her warmly. "How are you doing?"
"Good," she offered half-heartedly, looking around. "Are you sure you should be talking to me?"
I shrugged, "I don't see why not. We're all here to fight together, just like before." I moved to lean against the wall next to her, looking at all those gathered. "Besides, you're not one of the bad ones."
She was silent for a long moment, before muttering so quietly that I would've missed it without my powers, "Yes I am."
"Wanting to go home isn't a crime, Marissa," I murmured back, my words only reaching her. Her head snapped over to me, as she went completely still. "You aren't the only one far from home. Superheroes, . . this is all absolutely insane, and to them it's completely normal, and now we're going to fight water Godzilla."
She stared at me for a bit longer before relaxing, looking back out across the crowd with me. "At least this one doesn't have atomic breath," she quipped.
I blinked in surprised, before I shook my head, ruefully. "I think you're the first one here that's gotten my references. Have you looked at the tv they got? It's superhero everything. It's just boring after a while."
"And their games suck," she agreed, joy in commiserating taking her mind off what was coming. "They don't even have. . . they suck," she trailed off, and the silence, for degrees of silence in the busy space, rested between us. "Do you miss it?"
"I've been here a bit over a month, and I've been kinda busy," I pointed out without malice. "You?"
"Seventeen."
It took me a moment to understand she meant she'd been here for seventeen months, and I did a bit of mental math. "Madison then. Thought so. Don't worry," I reassured her, not moving, "I'm not going to tell anyone. The only one of your group that seems like he might've been Ziz'd is Trackstar. Genesis, Ballistic, and Normal Boy seem fine."
"And. . ." she trailed off.
"Noelle?" I asked, and Marissa stiffened, slowly nodding. "I'm honestly not sure. I want to believe I can help her but sometimes powers can change you to the point that you're no longer. . . you. Any help after that wouldn't be restoring you, but making you into what the person trying to help thinks you were. She's strong, holding out like she has. A year and half and still sane? That's a girl who deserves a happy ending, if I can give it to her. Question is, is she her, or is she just the power that thinks she's her, like the clones that she makes?"
The silence stretched again before Sundancer replied. It was quiet, almost pleading, and only meant for my ears. "I just want to go home."
I looked over her, ruthlessly repressing the urge to give the poor girl a hug. Now wasn't the time, she might react badly, and it'd draw far more attention than either of us wanted. Instead, I told her, "If we don't stop this place from going crazy, we might not have a home to return to. When this is all over though, not just today but all this craziness, come find me. I can't send you home now. Not won't, can't, but once the fighting's over and the dust's settled? I'll find a way."
"And if I wanted to stop . . . travelling?" she asked, hope poorly hidden in her tone.
"Then there'd be a place for you with the Penumbral Defenders," I promised, passing her my card. "All you'd need to do is ask."
"I'm not," she shot back, almost reflexively, taking the card and quickly storing it in in a pocket. "I just. . ." she trailed off.
"Wanted to keep your options open?" I suggested.
"Yes. That," she agreed.
I pushed off the wall, moving back into the crowd, calling behind me "I look forward to working with you again, Sundancer. Stay safe." She didn't reply.
Returning back to my teammates, Taylor was still looking at Marissa while Amelia asked, "What was that?"
"Recruitment," I replied, moving to stand back with them. "You know the girl I told you about, who had a bad Trigger event and was branded a villain in defiance of the law?"
Lady Bug glanced between us as Panacea glanced back over towards Sundancer, the healer's body language softening. "Same thing?"
"Worse," I replied, making sure our conversation was private. "She and the rest of the Travelers got pulled through from another dimensional at the tail end of a Simurgh attack. They Triggered during the attack, and despite her not being turned into a Ziz-bomb she and her friends found themselves attacked by all sides, in a strange land, where superpowers were suddenly a thing. She has no secret identity because, in this dimension, she has no identity."
"People don't Trigger during attacks," the healer argued, not with enough malice to be outright calling me a liar anymore, just pointing out the common perception.
I shook my head, "We really need to sit everyone down and go over what's going on. The Travelers, after being dumped on Earth Bet, stumbled across something that let them artificially Trigger. The only one who was actually messed with by Ziz was Trickster, and the others just want to go home."
"How do you. . ." Amy asked, trailing off as the announcement came for everyone to gather for the briefing. She shot me a look that I was starting to understand meant 'We'll talk about this later' and we followed the tide of para-humanity into a large room, screens set high on the walls showing the Triumvirate, who were floating above a Dais at the back of the room, watching as everyone filed inside. Taking a seat near the middle-left, Panacea and Lady Bug sitting on either side of me, I focused on the big three, straining to See past all the other powers in the room.
Resisting the urge to open the eyes of my mask to get a better look, I focused as hard as I could, barely able to make them out. None of them where what I expected.
Legend, front and center, was wreathed in the restless Silver & Faded Blue Aura of Absolute Territory. The power had an intensity that rivalled Theo's, but looked weak, almost worn. His power created a beam that allowed him control over what they struck. That was. . . incredibly overpowered on the surface, though I was sure there were all sorts of details that I couldn't make out, having to peer through the haze of all the others to See even that.
Regardless, it should be enough for my power to copy, as his flight was him using his power to effect the air around him. While the man was the best of the Cauldronites, he was still a member of that group, and thus I had no compunctions against copying his power in the pursuit of his stated goals. Reaching out, his flying was indeed enough for me to grab a bit of his power, though something odd happened as I did so. When it touched his power, instead of skimming off a bit like normal, it seemed to sink slightly into the man's Aura. Some of the my Flame seemed to dissipate, subsumed into his power, but as it did so the glow of his Aura strengthened slightly, and it was from a bit of that strengthened Aura that my power pulled his.
Legend lifted up slightly, a flicker of surprise flashing across his face before his previous, confidant smile replaced it once more. Alexandria leant forward, but he gave a minute shake of his head before she could say anything, murmuring something to her. The strengthened portion of Aura spread across him, diminishing slightly in intensity but filling the rest until it was a uniform glow once more, the faded blue looking a little more vibrant.
That was. . . odd, but worth it for access to his power. Bringing it online, to see if it came with any sensory effects, I found that I couldn't. Just like with Manpower's ability, there was that sense of blockage, of trying to activate something that was already on. Either way, I probably shouldn't be attempting to figure it out in a room packed to the gills with PRT, so I ignored it, turning to his compatriot.
Alexandria, to the left of Legend, had the Grey & Faded Black Aura of Personal Temporal Stasis. I was confused, watching her, trying to figure out how the hell that worked out to flight, super strength, and everything else she was supposed to do, but as I stared it started to fall into place. I wasn't sure how it worked, but her strength was her moving but not able to be moved in turn, though how that turned into flight I had no clue. I supposed not moving with the earth as it travelled through space might do that, but it'd only be in one direction, and not be the thing that allowed someone to hover. Her power too, looked weakened, though not to the extent that Legend's was.
Reaching out, once again a bit of my power merged into hers, strengthening her Aura, though she didn't appear to notice. However, when I tried to take a bit of power for my own, it just slid off hers, lacking anything to grab onto. Oh come on! I thought. She's flying, how is that not using a power with a visual effect! However, my power disagreed. As much as I tried, I couldn't copy it. At least I've seen it, I comforted myself. When she's using it to fight, I'll see her power in action.
That just left the Big Kahuna, Eidolon.
His power, unlike Legend's, which seemed ready to blast off at a moments notice, or Alexandria's, which held tight to her body, almost like a shell of power, was spread out, roaming over the crowd as he did. . . something. It was intense, but the Aura of Dark Blue & Faded Green resisted my attempts to identify it. He likely had some sort of Thinker ability active and was scanning the crowd with it. Endbringer Truce my ass, I grumbled internally, not really surprised that he held to the rules as well as the villains did. I reached out to grab his power, wondering what I'd get.
I'd Seen his power, which was what was required, even if I had no idea what he currently had active. Hopefully I'd grab his method of flight, and I could figure out what the hell it did later. With any luck I could stack it with Vicky's to up my flying speed. Reaching out, my power brushed against his. As with the other two, a bit of my own power flowed into his, strengthening his Aura. Trying to pull a bit off, I started to get it, before his own power lashed out, wrapping around my own and trying to draw it in further.
Mentally pulling back, I found I couldn't nor could I separate the tendril of power I'd extended.
"Shit," I swore under my breath, having no idea what the hell was going on.
I wasn't the only one, as Eidolon bobbed once, letting out a panicked "Fuck!" as he started to fall out of the air, only to be caught by Alexandria. His power pulled harder on mine, taking in more and more, and I started to hurt. It wasn't a pain that came from anything in my body, it was a lance of agony that went to my soul and arced through my brain on the way there. The migraine from hell instantly sprouted and then only intensified while I wasn't able to do anything to stop it, the feeling spreading through the rest of my body. Muscles spasming and straining, it felt like my eyes were on fire as I bit down on a cry of my own, sitting ramrod straight to try to hide what was going on.
I dimly heard the girls on either side of me whisper something as others looked up front at what was going on, but even when the guy in front of me stood up, blocking my line of sight to Eidolon, that didn't sever my connection. No one payed any attention to me as they all tried to spot what was wrong with the Triumvirate, but that was the silver lining on this fucking hurricane. What the fuck did I do? What the fuck do I do? Feeling Amy's hand gripping mine, I desperately pulled the material on my hands back hoping she could help, the drain increasing as my attention momentarily slipped.
Fighting it, my power gripped his firmly, pinning it in place to try to strip it off even as it sunk hundreds of draining pincers into my own. Splayed out like it was, I͘ ̯͙͖c̲͔o̘̗̙̜̜͟ul̖͔̭̻̝d̰̼̺ ̤̤f̵͎͉̯͍̭i̛͖̪̗̪̺na͉̦̤̩̪̫̳l͕l̛y̟̟̣̼ ͚͚͍̱̙͕ͅS҉e̮e͖.͉͇̜͎̗̣̯
E̤̬̙̩͍i̝͇ḏ̸͕̟o͇̮̜͎̼͇͞l̬ón̳̮̤'̙̩̺s̖̟̮͖͎̞ ͍p҉̼̳̯o͉̻̙̳̜ͅw̥̤̲͍̼͟e̮̟̜̬r͍͢ ̹͉̗̯̱w̲̟a̖̖̮̪͇̦͞s̜͓̠͚ ̳̥͙̫͓̣̟͜s͇̰̼o̘ ͘ì̪͈̰̦̻̮n̸̪̙c͙̳͎̗̭͟r̛̪e̗͈̰d͉̬͉͖͇̪̕i͏͍̬͈̙̭bl̳͖̥̙̟ͅͅy͓͚̝̞̜̯͟ͅ ̯̳͞s̵̲̜͔͚im̧̼̤p̮̱̞͙̖̖ͅl̬e̕ ̻͍͖̠̭t̛͇̼̪͎̟h̤a̭̱̩̲̲̬̺̕t͞ ͎̭͉̘͍I̬̦̺ ̳̦̮̯ha͎̟̹ḑ̠̹̝̱̟̯ ̤̫̼̫͕̺̬͘t͕̣̪̻͝o̺̮̩͖̣̩̖ ̯͙̮l͙̳͉̲ͅa̡͉̣̠͉̼ų͕̮̘g̰̩̠̞̼h͖̲͙̕.̸̟̲̙͙̲͈͚ ̳̠͓̀ͅI̙̯̖̺͓ͅṯ̣͎̤͇ ̨̞̭ͅw̞͇̳̘͍̼̭ḁs҉n̖̱'̜͇͠t̘̥̳̮̝͘ ҉̫̯͉̳'̴a͙̥ny̩͔̲ ̙̦̳͈͉͞t̶̳̯̗h̝̻͓ͅr̻͈͓̹̳̺e͇͎e͓̞̺ ͖̖̺͟p̻o̩͓̣͓̖w̜̲̘͚e̵̼ŗ̰͚͖̜͇̲s̘͓͟'̙͙͢ ̣̪͔̙̜͠i̢̬̙̺͓̝̗ͅt҉͎̪̖̰̘̫̼ ̬͙̻͉wa͖̞̭̝͚s̘͙͇̹ͅ ̵͕̠̰̬̞̙̗I͏̮͔̤̯n̛̙̜̩̖͙̼̭t͞er̷̗̝̘̻̘ͅf̠̣a̰̞̱̫͔͎͖c̡͙̣̙̬e̶̱.̗ ͔͇̳ͅH̗̥̹̺̯̝e͈̘̙̮̜̹ ̵̤wa̛͙̜͇̘̮s̳̞͖n͕̻̻̹̙͓̹'͖͘ṱ̖͉̭̩͉ͅ ͏͚̟̩̪u͔̤̭̝͖̮͘s͓̹͉͖̝i̮̯̠̲ṋ̠̙̟̱͍̹͟g͖͟ ̪́h͍́i̥̹̥̬s̴̺̯͉͕ ̝̬̹̺͉̘͍̀p͓o̤w̼̩̺̻̣͚e͠r̳̬̖ͅ ̣̺̹̺̪͓he̖͖͔ ̵w̥̳̜a̵͈̜̠͎̰̩̹ś͕̞̫̻ ̦̝͇͘u͔͜s̺͍̺ị͈͖̼n̺̰̱̱͈̝̭g̺ ҉͔̹̰T̙̙͎̭͔̯ḩ̱̱̼e̻͔͔ ͔͓̳̺̺͓ͅT̥̲͍h̹̯̺i̱͓̙nk̩̫͎̺̭͕e̵̳r͟'̘̠̲̭̼̜s̟̞͉̱͕͢!͙̠ ̧̠̤͈͚̝͍B͙ut͔̻͍͕̪̹͔ ͇̜̭̣̠͢ͅh̟͈̮̟̻̝e͎̟͇ ̭̝u̠̯̟̹͉͕ͅś͈͖̪͔e̸̮̺d͈͖̠̠͎̱̫ ̳̺̯̱̠̺͡t͚͖͓͓̟h̟͎e͏̠̮̟̳͔m̷̻̭͎̱͕̯̟ ̩̯̜̗̪͙̀a̧s̗̟͕͓̳͖ E̡͚̤n̠̝̰̬t̗̼͎̙͍̟i̬̯̻̯̤͇t̟̜͖̗͜i̧͉̹e̷̱s̩̼̞̤͍̯͢ ̭̲ḏ̵͓i̛̹̼ḍ̨͖̟̝̗,̟̺͙͕̟͓͠ͅ ̥̣̻̘f̨u̹̟͖͚̥͟ļ͚l̵͚ ̱̫̱̯̥̤͎o͕̖̭͍͖͇̠f̼̭͇̻͍͙̹ ̫͖̘̣͝s҉ò̠̘u͇̲̣̬͖̥̣͟n̸̦̣̯͇̙̹ḍ̬̰̣ ̪̱̩͙͓͝ą̱̝̙͓̘ͅnd ̻f͘u̟͕͙̺̫͢r͕̪̬̠̮y͎̬͕͈̯͢ ̤̼͈a̰͉̣ń̩d̷ ͕̬̜̹̼͍́w̳̫͇̱i͖̮̘̘͎̼t̻̥̕h̛̫͕͉ ̗̞̫͚̺̝n҉o̗͖̳̲̗ ̼̘̺̱̤̯̪th̸̲̘ǫ̳u̫̙̭̗̻̫̥g̶̭ẖ͈̤̝͈̻̲̀t̰̪͙͇̭͎ ̶̬̖͓̲̭̬t͈̰o̤̖̻̦̫ ̣s҉͚͚̣̱o̤̪̟m̮̟̤e̷͎̰̠̯̩͚t̴̖͔͇͕h̻̳͚̜̙in͙̘̩̲̪g͓͈ ͍l͎͢i̛̬͔̦̞̪k̰͙̤̞̻̟̩e̛̯͙͈̬̗̯ ̗͎̤̪̺͚͢ş͕u̺͙s҉̭͔̙̣͈t̸͖̫a̰͍̖̭͍͍͝in͍̣̻̞̙̯̠a̰̩͇̭̮b̴̖̤͔͙i̫̯̥͎̰͉l̷͍ị͇t̙͉̠̫͇͎ͅy̺͍̠͓̭̩ ̙̜͍d͢e̱͍̟̦̱̦s̶͚̟̟̜̖̩p̰̺̩̰̞i̺ͅt̤͖̟̻e̘̣̺̪ ͉̲t̫̥̪͎͎͡h͎̱̳͎͈̙͝e͓̼̺̦͉̙i̩̤r̡͇͍͍͓̗ ̴̼͕̰̮ͅg̠̯̞̟͍̯̀ͅr͕͙̣̱̟̮a̗̞̟̺͙̣n͏̹̯̥̼̺d ̯͓̣̥͇͈e͙̱̩̭̹̺ͅx̯͎͓p͏̯e̻̞͙̠̹̘̳͠r̷̜̯̳͕̖i͖͡m̢͚̱͉̖̰̼̗ȩn̵̟̙͉̺͖ͅͅt҉̙̖!͉͟ ̙̠͔̺T̲ḩ͎̟͔̼͉e҉̞͈y̫͈͇ ̶̠h͟a͈̣d̸̗̪̙̯͇̗ ͎̲̯͉̖̳̰B̹͔͟i̡̱l͏͇̝̫͍͈͙̤ĺ͚̣̪͓̝i̟̗̣̝ͅơ̗̖̤̙̞ṇ̨̝s͟ ̛͍͎͕̦̙̪̙of ̤t͈̥͍͇͘h̤͠e̡m̡̝ͅ,̙͚̜̲̦́ ̪͍͝e̱̻aś̬͙̦̪̙̪̻i̺̣͈͇͖̹̻ly,̝͡ ͖̝̩͚͍͝u̩͢s̼̣̼͍̞̠͞i҉̱n̤̭̲͔̘̳g̢̦͙ ̳̞̬t̶̰͍h͍̼̞̦̤̬e̯͠m̯͖̭̖ ̮͍̲̱i̴͈͈̰͔͙n̫͉͚̗ ̵̬̦̗̯͙̞su͙ch͍̬̻ ͠a̦̭ ̻͖̟f͈̬͍̝̫̹a̝͉͙͖s̠h̨͍í͕̱̤̝o̳͓͍̲̠̟͝n͕͎̜̺̻ ̦͍̥̲͜w̴a͖̮͚͕͉̹ͅs͝ ̟͇͙̟͟s̼̤͇i҉͈mp̬l̟̙͖̻̩̞e̢̮̮͚.̻̘̕ ̵̜͕͖͖̬̖H̝ẹ̱̬ w̗̦̠a̜̟s̮̮̻̦͖̯ ̩̞̘c̗̱̗͜o̺n̳̤͓͉͈̲ͅs̝͈͖̺̩̮ͅt̳̻̩͇̥̜̮a̸̝͙̭͕̰n̤̦t͚̰̟̥l̶y̮̣̼͉̮̯̻ ̮̗h̹̺͎̬a̻ṿ̡̘̘͎i̱͉͚͓n͇̳̖͠g̝̠ ̨̹̰ͅt̜ǫ͚̝̖̺̫ ̦̳͖̻̝͘m̭̲̟̮ͅo̶̯̪͇̣̯̲ͅve̫̟ ̼̬̤͍ͅo̫̼̦̱n̘̰̝ͅ ͙̙̳̙͉̣ś͕̪͔̝͖͙̥ì̜̞̭̭͕͖n͈͇̰̮̪̙͠c̢͈͕e̥̣̜̗̮̻ ̼̦t̤̗̰̫̪͢h̜̦̗̻̩͉̰͟ey̬͍̘͡ ̫͓̫͝ͅd̟̝̳͇͟i͈̳͈d̥̞̳̞n̜͓̘'̣̝̕ṱ̵̻̮̟ ̖̯̦̫̝͉̬h̥̻a̬̳͙͉͚̗̜͜v̥̖̼͉̞̫͇ę̣ ̢̘t̮̪̪͉̺͈ͅh͏̬̟̺̣͓̻e ̖͠re̴͉̞̦s̮e̛rv̼̣͍o̦͙͓̗͖͈̗i̷r͚̰̗̹s̝͕͉̭ ̱̤̖̼̯͕d̟̫̟̲̹̺̬e̠̹̲͕̼͉t̡̯̹̝̳̦̪a̧̼̘̺̮̙c̭̣̩̠̦̞̭h͈̬͇̘͙ȩ̞͔̰̫̯͇͈d̵̬̯̩̘̣ ̯̮śͅh̖̙̮̥̰̕ar̷̩̼d̗̠̞̩͙͚̺͡s͕̞͞ ̹̲̜̳n͚̬͍̙̥͎͕o̦͎r̬m̼̜̞̹̺̀a̷̲͉l͢l̥͘y̫̮̭̫͓̫̩ ͚̼͘w̲̭̕e̳͉̜̜̟͕̗͟ṛ̳͎͔è͉͕̬͓͈ ̘̯̟̥a̞̼̟l̖̟̮͟l̵̲̦ò͙͖̹̮̫ͅt̛̼͖t̮e̞͍̝̻̻͍d͙̼̝͜,́ ̶͚̬͓̻͖̰̪b̸̟̹̟̯̗̟u͓͎r̗͙̻͓̰̲ṋ̲́i̵̝̮̩n̢̝̫̬͕̪g ͍͇̭͡ṯ̘̭̤he̫̣̱̩̮̕m͇̱͔̱͚̠̹ ͎̗o̙̠̼͇u͖̦t̗̟͇̝͙͈̮ ̩̠̠t̯̲͞ͅơ̺̥͉͓̝͈̗ ̢̯̺͇͍̺t͚h̹͎̝ͅe̵̹̮̻ ̻̱͉p̢o͈̗̤i̝̦͔̭̣͞n̮͇̫t̖̬͡ ̷̘̝̫͈̳̳t̡͇͓̱̱̰͎̗h͍͉͉͚͝e̺̠̖͉̮̙y̪̼̹̜͔ ̠̠̪̟̩̜̺h̼̭͚̺̝͔a̴̫d̥̣̱ ̴͈̻̣̟͇̗͎t̺̙̩̫̺̼o͚ ͇̻͍̻̫͚͟ͅd̵͎̬̫͇i͕̦͚̮̭s̡͎e̮̖̹n̡͔̗̟͉̺̪g̫͚͈͖̬̜͞a͏͓͈͓͕ͅg̡̖̲e̳ ͈̗̫̱t̯̲͓̮̮̼͍o̷͖̥ ̥͇̱̝̀r͚̦̥̟͖͡e̢ͅf̦̻i̶̹l̢̳̬͚ḽ̫̞̰͔,̮̭ ̙̮̺̠̤̘̭t͈h̸͚o̺͈̻̱̗̘̹s̨͓͚̬̠͖̱̲e̟̬̣̗̣̕ ͎̦̼̞̳tḫ̗̥̹a̵̰͇̭̣͓ͅt ̰͉̙̹͙̀w̜̟e̹̟̹͙͖̫͚ŕ̹e̢͍̫͇̱ ̣̜͕̦͎͙ͅn̥͎̼͍̘o͓̺͕̥̫t̥ ̱͍͓͕͠b͓͍͔̜͈u͇͔̘r͡n̪̳̼̙t̫̩̹̫̦̝͙ ̘̙͈̣͔͡o̹͈u̬͉̳̥̠ͅt̕ c͔͖̖̮̳̙o͇̟̝̟͚ͅm̥̮p҉̥̮̬le̢̱͔t́e̶͔̣l҉̲̠̦y̴͖.̰̹̯
W̛̼̙̯͢͞i̧͎̼t̛̖͙̪͞h̝̗͘͘ ҉͍̹̲̙̬͔a̵͉̕ ͏̦͎̹̲̟̜͟Ć̡̥̙̥̼̪͕̼͝ò̸̼̖̤̩̫̥͎͇r̸̖̰̬e̸҉̱̥͕ ̹͈͉̟͖̖̞̜S̸͍̹̜̖̥͕̤h̩̞̮̳a̵̢̗͈r̡̟̮̫̖̼d̩͔̤̦̻͇̥ ̵̶̹̟͍l̻̱̜͓̩i̛͏̼̝̫̯̪̮k̬͞e͓̟̣͚͘ ̷̧̻̫̭͔͟t̹̞̱͉̱̤̯h̢̙̟̙̩̙̱͕i͓̤͖̫̖͈̜͜s̜,̸̣̺͉̲̯̣ ̵̴͈̘̺̞̜͡i̶̡̭̰t̛͓̱̺̯̥̱̱̕ ҉͇̪͈̥͈̹͢w͇͎̤͢a̧͇̤̺̭̘̳͟s̨̙̯͟͠ ̶̷̣̙̺͕̺̞̲̦ͅn͙̺̮͞ò̡̟̞̭̠̦̖ͅ ̖̜͉̹̤̮͍̺͝͠w͎͓͖̤̮͇̖ờ̸͓̟̗̝̭̻n̬͇͚̜̩d̦̻̹̼̼̭̥͙͢e̱̞̦̜̮̙̕͠r̶̨̙̮̖̠̼͉̞̼ ҉̖̳̠̬t̡̥͓̞̗̟̦̝̬͎̕h͖̠̰͖a̻̣̱t҉̤͚̗̼̹ ҉̯͙͠U͇̮̬͍̦̭̘̮͘͘s̜̦̗̰̦̫e͙͚̯͔̗͎r̹͎͉̬͚̱͘͝/̨̘̣͔͕͡ͅͅH̞̯̺̹̱͘o͚̜͔̖̮͚̹͠s̝̱͓̝͕͚̕͠ṯ̶͔͇͎̲͕͚̼̀ ͓͎͕̫̘̝͕̭͜h͇a̢̨̘͈̱̠̣͕d҉͎̟̜̪͖͕͎ ͚a҉͏̱͎̲̜̳͍͜p̨̤̣͝p̸̝̥͓͓͍̙è̗̯̦̭̪̬͍͔͢͟a̯̟͍͉͝ͅr͉̺͈̦̫̦̕͠e̸͖̙̱̩͢d̡̻̬͇̱̘̱̖͈̱͠ ͝͏̹̣͉̖̹͈s̺͖̣o̡̡͎̫̭̝̬ ͈̮̟͚͔̜̫͚̮͢p̢͇͙͟͢o҉͉͖̟̹̪̘̲̰̟w̰̣̠͡è̫̫r̢̢͙͖͚͖̦͈ͅf̧̢̪̞͓ự̪̻̘̹͖͍͎͢͜l̘̜̹͜͞͠,͙͖̤͎̟̙̼͢͠ ̷̙̣̦̱͎ḏ̵̸̥̹̪͍͔͙̙͍e̩̘̟̖͚s͏͏͔͖͚̮̖͉͙ͅp̘̦̩͘͡i̴̭͉t̵̡͔̟̮̖̯͜e̸҉̫̲̳͞,̣͓̗̟̜̲͓͈͘͝ ҉̡̜͖͚i͕̰̰̝̫͎̟ͅr̢͔̰̀o̧͝͏͖͚n̸̯̮̙͍͟i̧̧̘͍̯͖c̡̱̳͟a͙̬̮l̹̘̗͙̹̪͓ḽ̰͈̀͘͞y͕̰͜ͅ,̷͕̲̦ ͙̙̝̥̬͘͟b̨͙̩͘͟e҉͘͏̥̹̟͈i͔ṇ̵̳̩g̢̺̬̱̻͢͜ ͙͇a̖̙b̸̛̭̗̰ó̤͍̦̳͉͚̟͖u̶̖͈̺̮̮͝t̺̲͟ ̖̭a̶̱͈̟̼͖s̷͕̝̳̦̪͢ ̵̢̭̥̦̖̰c̵͈͉̞̞̤̼͟͠r̙͓̮͖͚̳̹͟e̸̱̙̣͎͙͙̝͉a̷̫̲͡t̶̗̪̹͜i̶҉̮v͈͜e͢҉͔̦̗͖̲ ̢̟̦́a͏̭̖̱̯̙̜̝͡s̮͎͢ͅ ҉̪̙͢t̰̬͙͕̖̝͓̤h̴҉͔̬̭͉̘̻e̼̬͔͢͞ ̶͍̪̣͔͇̲Ę̵̴͇͚̘͈ņ̷̵̭̥t̡̜̻͕͇̕͞i̧̬̼t̴̤̭͕̙̪̲͕ͅy̴͕͈̠̻̭ ̡͙͎͚͠h̴̸͏̤ḙ̛̮͢ ̛̛̹̞̥͍w̯̘͓̖͍̦̥͘ì̛̻͉͔̼s͈̗̳̳̟̦͚̦ͅh̴̪̯̫̪͚͈͕͟e̢͙̗͍͍̘͡d̢̘̘̞͎ ̥͉̰̱͇͝ͅͅt̮̯̟o̱͇̤̺̙͕̗̗ ̕҉͚͍̯͇̜̮̬̫͜k̸̗͈̫͚̻͘i̡͖͞ḽ͖̯̀l̜.̨̜͓̤́ ̸̺̫͎͇̰͍̮͞ͅI̶̜͙͕̙͘ͅt̸͖̳͔̮͎͔͞ ̢̙̪̣̳̮̪͚̤̩l̨̙̩͠á͎̙̱͚̫̥̠͕͉̕͠t̸̝̳̠̰̮̘͕͡c͏̨͔̭̀h̗̩̺̼̫͉̀͠ę͓̞̳ḑ̴̧̼̱͇̝ ̧͕̹̞̗͞o̗͖̠̞̰͕͜͞n̘͉͉̭̼̣͡͞ţ̷͙̘̼̟̖͜ọ̞ ̷͇̲͓̕͟ͅḶ͇̥̀͘e̡̻͖͖̗̥̠͙̠͞͠e̫̞͖̭̣̬̞͜͞'̲̙̘͖́͜͞s̙̥̭̗̺̦ ̵̹͙̬̞͔̟ṕ̜̙̟̝ó̢̙͇̗̗̺͓͜ẃ̧̙͍͕͖̲̫̭̰ͅȩ҉̫̠͜r̵̵͓̗̘̼ͅ,̴̲͙͝ ̱͓͓̗̹̣̥͙͝l̘͇̟͇̝̹̞į̞̬͍̯̠͡͡k̝̬͉̹̭̮e҉̤̺̝̝ ͏̸̙͇͕ą͉͎̲̕͜ ̥̰͇͓͇͔̜̤ͅm̡̩̰a̶̩̩̣͇̺̦̟̳n̳͇̠͕̙̕͡ ͎̭d́҉̝̭͇̣͇͘y̧̦͙͉̮͘͠i͕̲̗̩̺̥̻̦͖͟n̜͉̩̖̗͜g̜͟͞ ̢̫̺̘̠ơ̗̮̝̘̕ͅf̦̟̖̬̝ ͏͓͡t̶͞͏̪̩̪h̨̼͈̦̩͈̀i̠̘̺̺̩r̸̴҉̜̳̻̹͉̟̰̗s͏̜̝̫͇̘̙̥̤̠ţ̘̫̗̲̪̫͚ ̤̱̀f̷͖̱̻͙̣͎i͕͞n̨̙̤͍̪͜d͓͚̼͘͜i͈̩͖͓͎͍͢ņ͖̩̻͙̬̞͜g̪̟͓̺̼͓͝ ̝̤͎̜͚͈͢ͅa͏̗̲͖n̷̝͙̣͉̣̟̥ ͏̗o̭͎a̵̜͚̟ş̯̝̳̯̙̞̺̬̘i̼̲̟̱̘͡s̛̻̺̙͙͖̱͇̺,̖͈͉̝̩̫ ̳̜̠͈̟̩̝̞͉̀b̶̨̖u͕̳̳͔̣̰̬͇͎͢t̟͠ ̛̘̖͚͚̯̥̕t̶̴͎̭h̻̬e̢͚̼͖̪͡r̨͔̣̻̞̪̩̮̺͢e̳͍͇̩͕̫͘ ̵̗͕ͅw͓͕̱͝a̮̫͡͠s̙͉ ̨͉͇̦͕̖̮͉̣͈͠á͓̟̱̬͚͇̟͕͡ ̠̭̤̖̤͉͔̗̫́͟͟ḓ̠̳̤̖͇̠̪̕͢a̡̜̬̤̦̣̖̲͇̕̕ń̷̜͈͙͓͇̫̬͘g̴̯̳̦̰̮͘è̛͙͔̹͓͟r̠̻̤̮̥͞ ̶̻̭͍̣̳͇̘͎͟t̷̨͈h̡͎̤͘͡e̙r̼͙͚̤ę̦̦̯̤̭͞͠ ̛͉̜̜̮̳͖̰̜ḁ̶͈̬̺͚̥͞s͕̹̪ ̧̯͍̙̤̗̠͝͠w҉̼̟è͇l͎̠͕͡͞l͏͚̻͖͓̹͖͚̭͙.̧̡̪̙̳͉͞ ̴̱̱͕I̧̪͎͕͎͓̻̺̯n͔͔̪̯̼͉̜ ͝҉͕̪i̡̲̞̳͓͔̫̻t̛̥̞͢s҉̡̳͔͉͈̮͎͢ ̤̘̟̗̱͈͢ͅa̙̗̖̻̱͠t͈̫̙͇̫̠͚͢t̶̥̝̟̩͖͍̱́͞e͖m̤͟͝p̢̝͎̹͖͍̱͈̮t̶̹̲̕s̘̺͔̗͠ ̧̝̞t̵̝͞o̷̧͈͈̥̪͜ͅ ̣̩̬̬̫̱̪̝͝ḑ̬̹͇̮̪̰͢ͅr̬̺̗̤̗i̵̩͕͙̪͕̟͜n̵̖͕͚ͅk̪̩̀ ͈͕̺͚̪͇͝t̨̤̻͉̟͢h̞̻̞͡e̪̝̝̪͜ ̛͔̦͕͘o̶͉̙͙͓ͅa̴̧̧̙̟̜̮͎̳̜s̥̪̗͇͚̞̫͘i̝̟̖͎̹͢͡s̭̀,̨̖̤̬̱̯ ̯̭̘͎̮̙̀í̢̧͔̩t̘̤͡ ̨͇̻͍̤͔̖̞̳͓m̷͎̮̥̙ͅa̟̣̪͟͝y̛̬̤͈̯͇͉͟ ̲̩̜v̢̥͘ę̼̠̭̥̻͘ŗ̯̜̠̗̲ỳ̩̳̞͞ ̸͇͇̦̣̥̝͙͞w̛̥͙̲̖ę̻̼͙͕͘l̮̲l̨̝̀ ̸̺̥̜͈̳͈͉͟͝ḵ̬̦̭͜͞i͉l͖͕̩̮͘l̷̢̜̰̭̤̦͙̹̘ ̧͙͖͙̤͔̗̳̩̖i̡̛̱̲̹ͅͅt͏̘̦s̷̛̰̺͍̖̻͘é͓̪̭̙̣̖͘ͅl̛͏̭f̴̺̬́,̵̭̘̺̼̺͈̣̺͝ ̞͚͉ͅa̺͈n̶̴͎͇͝d̕҉͚̠͍͔̜ ̢͓͇̫̯̯͓̯̰͘t̥̜̤̱̀h̡̯͈͉̘͝á̢͇ṯ̡̬̜̗̪̭͔͡ ҉̴̞w̛҉̱̖̮̦́ͅơ̡͇̻̩͔̙̞͘ù̸̡̙̥̼ļ̘̹d̶̢͍͈͎̼͔̦͠ ̶̵͈̲͉̼̪̫ͅn͏̨͎̝̩͚̪̫̩o̲̰̹͜t̵̪̰͙ ̧̣̝̜͎̹͝ḇ̺͙̱͚̮̘̭̀ͅe̢̜̠͙ͅ ̳̟͔̜̬͠a̧͇̹̪͉͇͓̪ͅl̗̖̩͕̺̬͎͘l̷̪̗̪o̧̻͓̟͕̥w̛̪̪e̸̦͙̕d̴̪̝͇̫͇͇̰.̵̦̞͙͓͖͘ͅ
K̡̖̗̗̗͉̲̼͎̝̀͜͝ͅn̸͟҉͈̫̞͙̼̱͙̥̙͓̦̜͎̝o̪͚̺̱̠͖̫̤̣̖̬̥̫̬̗͟͠w̴̧͏̷̟̠̱̖͕̞͍̟͟ͅį̕͏̰͖͙̥̙̝̪ͅn̵̶̨̧̥̮͖̠͚̺̗̖̤̯̬̖̫̖͇͢g̢̙͍͈̩̥͖͈̪̠̻̠̝̻̹͘͠ ̵̨̨̣̭͕̹̙̲̼̭͉̥̖͍͇͓̘̯̻̕ͅw̩̲̫̰̠̝̪̳͙̣̟͘͟͟ͅh̨̭͉̬̣̫̻͔̦̼̞̗̤͕̦̹͠ą̸̷͖̺̰͈̤͓̻́t̛͚̮̘̞̟̝̯̻̮̠͚͙̱̩̤͟ ̷̤̤̝͔̹̥͚̠͍͔̞͔̫̮̤̯͘͝͞͝t̷̶̯̰̩̙̀͘͡ͅo̧̲̤͙̙̣̹̹̱̕ ̧̘͖̣̯̻͉̲̰̥̞͇̀͡͞d̴̨̟̳̞̹͇̦͕͘͡͝ͅơ̡̦̬̻̣̱̙̻̜̬̻̙̭̻̜̲̲͙͟͠ͅ,̸̥͙̫̜̰̺͔̦͓̘̞͈͉̻̭̥̯͠͠ ̳͈͚͓̫́t͏͠͠҉͈̤̙̙͈͕̲͍͚̯̱͈͡h͟҉̷̱̯͇͖̳̳̭̣̗͜e̶̶̷̬͈̹̯̜͙̞̲̯̙͙̬̩̹̼͚͢ͅ ̸̨͓̠͍͈͔͈͇̲̗̬̰̖̪̯̭B̷̞̥̣͖͚̯̖̝̜̗͎͕͠͡e͏̨̦̫̪̖̟̗̤̪̼͈͓͠i̷̴̗̻̲̻͚̘̫̹͍n̕͏͟͏͚͍̜͎͚̗̯̣g҉͏̸̡̭͙͈͚̮̺͚̯͉̣̠̠̦̭̫͓̞͟ͅ ̸̨̛̮̬̘̫͈͔̪̹̟̘͕̀̕ͅͅt̵͚̯̰̼͇͈̰̘̕͘͢ḩ̷̜̮̱̮̗͍̲̳͈̫̗̭͎̲͙̻͢͝ͅͅa̶̺̬̦̞̲̥͎̜̣̫̟̭̻̞̼̰̱͘͠ͅͅt̶̶̴͙͎̰̣̜̞͔̩̟̻̪̞̺̣̯ͅ ̯͉͎̺̗̥͓͠͞w̵̶̡̻͚̤͙͙͔̮̕͡a̵̡͔̹̱̱͎̰͎͎s̛̪̫̳͓͙͕͖̹̯̠̹̗͔̜̣͞ͅ ̸̱̘͓́L̵̹̜̦̼̪̖͓̙̯̗͖͎͖̥̹̦̩̺͘͘̕͡e̵̡̡̛͔͚͕͇̙̖̯̝͉̼͖̜̩̲͙͕̣̩ͅè̴̸̠̗͈̤̱̤̤̬͇ ̵̧̹̬̗̦̰̣̰̙͕̙̖́͘ͅí̴͜҉̷͍̟͖̬͖͔͚̻̭͕͔̯̖̙ͅń̩͓͉͇̱̳̳̬͜͡ ̸̸̩̼̫͇̣̠̳̯̀͝t̢̨͟͡҉̱̫̖̱̮̳͔̹̘̯͚̻̩̳h̷̲͎̗̪͡ę̱̭͖̫̞̲̞͙̲̦͎́̀ ͏̢̛̩̠͕̬̫̤̞̟͙̫̣̙̟͙̺͎͜G͚̘̼͖̺̳̻̫̩̳̬̠̹̙̝͘͜ͅu҉̴̷̢̖̝͖̝̝̮͙í̴͚̮̗͈͍̦̫̩̜̙̜͍͜s̸̵̡̛̗̲̰̱̟̦̩̘͍͇̰̤͢ȩ̴̼̳̜̫̺̪̠́͠ ̷̴͝͡҉̻̘̟ó̧̻͇̳̥͖̭͉̝͇͎̙͘f̷̧̬̼͚͖͚̗̘̖͙̤̻̩͕͓͕͉̠͜ͅ ҉̧̯̳͈̺̤̱̪̟̼͓͍̟̩̦̤̕ͅV̶̢̢̞̟̩e̵̴̛͉̞̳̺̮͇͡͠j̴̛͉̰̞͎̪̯͍͔͖̗͕̺͓̰͍͙̕͢ͅͅǫ̖̝̖̺͓̗͢͝v͢҉̵̭̘͙̞̬͙͕̣̦͕̞̼̬̜͔͚͘ͅi̸̡̙̳̯̠̳̬̰̖͎̗̙͔̝̞̳̱͕͘s̨̨̹̪̙̯̣͖͍̩̳̟͍̺̪̪̩ ̵̶̴̶͇̣̱̻̺d̶̷̝͉̠̪̞̻į̵̨̙̞͖̫̣̩̹̯̼̣̰͔͎̗̀s̨̲̠̣̬̪͚̺̥͖̫̰̣̦̝e҉̡͈̺̼͓̟̼̘͍̖͖̜̪̫̜͉͉̗́͝ͅṉ̨̨̮͉̳͎̤̩̲̬̩̬g̶͏͎̲̞̱̪ą̸̠̜̬̫̥̤̘̱̹͚͖̩̣̣̳̣̬̕͝g̶̡͠҉͔͈̺͎͖̞̼̮͎͈͢e͏̵̡̛͏̮͔̳̺̪͚̻̤̯̞̠͚̭̳̹ͅd̫̲̫͖̬̱͘͟͞͡,̴̨̝͎̥͔̺̞͉͇͎̳̺̖̪̞͟͢ ̶̧̟͉̭̙͚g͉̼̼̙̮͖̯̱͖̫͈͉̫͘͘͠ȩ̵͏̷̞̲̥̫̮̪̙̱͇̪͞n̸͏̡͓͙̬͇͈̪͎̺̯t͜͜͜͠҉̯͕͔͉̮͓l̕҉͏͈̳͖̠͉͚͕̗̣͍͔͙y̧̩̠̣̳̜̭̕,̴̨̨̢̢̙͓̞̲̲̬̱̘̯̱̬̣̤͚͉̼ ̛̣̰̼̱̝̘͔̼̘̘̳͎̜̳͘ṱ̢̟̤͉̤̻͙͖͎̳̕͞ͅh̶̨̡̜̺̣̮̭̮̰͓̭̜̤̤̥̙é̛̝͉̺͈̞̳̪͢͢ ҉͙͓̯̫̦͍̫̰͓͔͇͙͉̥͙ṕ̡͇̦̠̺͎̪̝͇̩̺̹̜͢ͅe̶̬̬̼͈͇̲͈r̶̴̨̪̮̼̗͎̠͎̕͞s̡̀҉̰͇̳͈̦̣͙̯̩͉̗̣͝ǫ̷̧̪̮̥̜̙̰̖͕̗͚̠̦̜͚̙̹̟͘͠ͅn҉̛̮̫̣̟̞̖͉̬̦͙̺͎̲̝͈́͜a͇͚̥̘͝l̛̦̥͈͕̣̤̣̫̩̞̥̣͟ ̢̤̪̰͙̠͍͉͞a̶̡̛̞͈͚͇̹ļ̡͇͔͔̥̠̹͉̼̟͚̤̞̣̥̮͙̝͟͡͞ͅͅl̶̵͍͎͎̱̱͍̪̭͚̼̳̟͙̗̺̯̙͜ͅǫ͕̯̦̖̻̤̝͉̠͕̦́t̡҉̸̫̥̻̰̜̟̯͚̥̹̺̫͢ṃ̷̧̨̟̥͎̻̮̤̰̥͓̗ẹ̸̦̥͎̥̱̳̤̱̖̯̺͚͝ͅn҉̲͈͉̬̰͖͢ͅṱ̨̘̘̩̘̬͈͞ ̧̢͙̟̦͙̬̩̲͍̺̥̠̺̟͎̜̪̻͘̕ͅo̢͜͏̳͚̟̪͍̀f̢̮̖̻͟ ̸̴̨͕͚̤͎̻̲̘̜̳̪̤̀͡e̡҉̧̻͍̥̥̙̙͍͔̙͔n҉̳͍̺̻͍̹̩́̀͢͡ę͕̞̰̰͓͜ŕ̷͈̱̲͇̻̻̫̩̝͕͕̟̪̬̖̞͢͝g̴̛̲̭͚͕̗y̫̪̭̝̗̱̝̬̱̕̕͢ ̸̸̡͓̲͕̹̤͙͕͎̲̬̱̩̕͝ͅį̷҉͉͍̰̮̙̜̟͉͇̬̀ͅͅt̶͈̜͎͕͘͝͞͠ ̷̶̷̼̳̫̰h͝҉̝̖̼ͅa̷̗͔̦̹̗̤̪̥̳̪̣͙͟ḑ̩̱̰̺͓̙͕̫̰͘ ̵̛̤̦̘͉̀b̵̮̰̻̪̼̬̯̮̩͉̠͈̼̬͟͡ͅe̷҉͕̣̪͕̰͙e̵̼̥̱̺̫͠ͅǹ̷̡͙̘̟̗̳̮͚̯̮̰̦̠̮̣̬̘̦͘͞ ̵̵̵̬̝̺͇̺̘̖̥̤̘̲͚͔e̴̡̡͚͇̣̩̱̮͈̦̗̮̼͇͉̳̭̯̞̘͘x̵̧̳̫̮̤̱̬͖̫̥̜̪͚̲̫̪̝͠p̀͜͡͠͏͈̗͍͓̹̼͙̺̭ͅȩ̵͎͇̠̣̭̳̥͕̲̣͙̯̥̀̀n͏҉̸̛̰̤͉͔̹̙͇̫̹̯̯͝d̵̢̳͍̱̭͚̟̦̳̳͈͎͓̥͓̥̦ͅi̶̵҉̤͇̗̗͍̝̩͓̭ͅn̩̻̖͇͟ǵ̛͎̺͙̪͞ ̧̨͕̤̼̮̪̰̲̰̬͉̘̬̪͍̤͜t͞͏̙̮͓̪̕ͅo̷̱̺̞̠͓̭̰͘ ̨̬̺̮̝̰͕͚͎̖̥͖̳̬̯͕̬́͝͡c͜҉̖͇̫͉̘͓̬̞̮̫̝̳̹̦͍o̢͟͡͏̳̦͖̜̱͙̲͈̩͖͖͈̠̤͚͇̝͘n̵̵̶̻͙̫͕͉͈͎̫͓͙͉̤̗̱̯͎̙͕t̨̳̯̟̞͙̯͙͕̜̯͙́̀͟í̴̡̢͈̻̥̞̖̠̙̭̙̭̝̞̬͕͔͢ͅn̸͎̞̹̼͙̞̰̟̗̳̬̫̙̖͙̪̲͚u͢͏̬͎͙̹̜̤͕̼̫̮̲̫̳̹̻̠͈͓ͅe̵̱͚̫͍̭̜̪͔̜̰͓͚͎ͅ ̸̴̫̮͇͉̺̜͖̱͝͝t͟͏̤͕̟͍̥̣̫̮̲̖͇̜̙̗̮̜͠h҉҉̵̜͖̮̩̭̦̯̫̳͡ͅe̕͏̼͎̘̤̗̗̪̬̞̮͍͙̻̗ͅ ̡̛͞͏̻̬̖̞ͅp҉͈̖̖̳̦̻̖̯̼̲͓͜͡͡͝ͅr͉̖̰͈̖͈̥̖̣̫̩̭̜̯̬̪͜͞ͅo͉̠̻̤̭̱̰̙̘̭͍̲͢c̶͏̶̫̤̠̝͙̰͖͍̠̣̳̖ȩ̫̪͉͍̀͜s̢̢̧̩̥̥̯̼̦̦s҉́͢͠͏͍͕̲͎͔̹̝̻̟͖͉̝̖̺ ̴̧̦͈̟͉̞̖̰͖̼̞̱̪͙̲͉͘͠ǹ̨̜̺͉̮͇̘͙͞͞ḛ̡͙̣̲͔̱̱̲̦͓̺͈̠̖̗̯̝̕ͅa̢̗͖͈̳͓͍̪̜̟̯͚̘̮͘͢͝r̶͝͏̗̭̜͎̺l҉̧͖͈̲̣̱͇͔̭̱̭̳̤͎̭ỳ̢̮̜̹̭̜ ̗͇̹̱̲͓̖̩͇̪̼͔̯̙̕͢͢r̷͙͖̞̩̦͙͓̗̠͔̫̝̭͇͕͘e̷̢̟͓̖̼̤͎̭͙͎̘̜̥̤̳͉͈s̵͇̗̫̱̲͚̩̖͔͍̲͎̰̘̞̹̥̞͠͞ͅt̴͎̖̟̻̦͖͔̼̩̱̹̰͍̯̩͘ͅo̕͠͏̫̘̩̖̭̠̦̼̗̫͙̫͚̥̺̠̫̟r̕҉̜͇̤̼̺͔̻ȩ̧̛̦̳̲̱̖̘͚̥͇̥͔̼̼̻͉́͘ͅd̖͔̜͈̘͖̗͇̦̤̕̕ͅ ͔͇̩̳̮̠̯̀́͞a̵͕͉̙̦͙͎̼̻̯͖̗̘̱͕͘͢͢ͅl̡͟҉̣̻̙͇̺̦r̷̵̝̬͖͖͖̕͜͠e҉̴̱͈͖͍̦̬̼̰̺̕̕͞a̸҉̗̠̖̼͓̥͔̤̥ͅd̵̢̢̛̪̤͚͚̯̺͎̤͉̖͍͓̹̪͍͉̜͟y̷̵͓͍̠͇̜͓͇̩̱̞̹̞̕͠.̦͇͔̰͔̩̪̩̼͓̦̘̜͍̼͘͟͡ ͙̯̤̬͚̭͉̘͔͎̤͖̀͜͠Í̫̲͚͚̲͠t̡̮͉̙͇̥́͠͡ ̸̡͓̝̱͖̮̟̀͘ͅẃ̴̗̜̪̩͕̞̲͉̞͙̣̯͎͢͞͠ą̴̵̡̫͇̣͉͓̤͓̝̘̱̝̤̪̮̯͉͘s̴̵̡̢̗͓̦̭̯̰̯̮̹̲̰͇̻͚̞͍͕͟ ̷̛̘͓̳̥̟̲͔͕̳̭̙̺̗̟̭̖̣̥͜ą̼͈̞͍͎̣̬͕̭̙̼̗̹̭̳̖̜͜ ̨͘͟͝͏͓̣͇̗̞̤f̸̪͉͔̣̝̫̘͕͔̼̬̻͉̜̫͇̜͟͡ͅa҉̸͈̱̥͔̣̞̤į̲̝̞̯̣̰͓̱͓̀͟͠ŗ̴̗̣̳͙͔̪̯̮̤͇̖̞̱͉̰͓͚̣͙͡ ̡̢̛̜̝̠̫̰̰̹͡͡ṱ̸̣͎̦̳̪̫̠̼̤̹̟̯͈̙̝͚̼̥́͝r̴͖͖̣̦̰̼̕ą̢̮͍̬͖̫͇͈͕͝ḑ̷̷̱̝̙̥͕͇͔̜̖̰̬̮̫̮͉̳͙͞͞ͅe͟҉̴̸̰̻̳̙̖̝̟͚͚͡ ̧͝͏͍̜͍̟̮̯̟̟̼̜̱̥̬̠̦̝̤̲ţ̛̝̜̮͉̱̗̙̝̝̤̝̝͓̲̲̲̰̀͜͞ͅo̴̻͓̥̻̱̹͠ ̸̤͚̘̳͉̼̺̻̳̣̮̤̝̣̤̖̩͘̕͜͟ͅͅt̛͈͍͎̯̞̫̤͎͔̱͙̯̫͢͡h̺̟̥̭̺̀͞e҉̸̷̮͙̣̤̪̠̝̣̤͍̖̖̺͓͢ͅ ̮̪̜̫̫͞Ś͕̳̫̝͓̗͕̝̻̩̝͟ͅh̛̛͖̹͍͕͔̻̮̙̤͓̼͡a̗̗̯̺̫̗͙̟̭̝̥͈͟͟r̵̖̩̘̦̱̝̥̗̻̣͔̰̖̜̜͓d̢̛̪̰͖͇͉̮̫̗̻̯̖̹̤̩̠͡͝ͅͅͅ ̸̡̯̺̗̜̩̘̬̞̜͕̖͎͘͠ơ͓̫̝̘͍̭̼̯̟̗̹̟̬̳̹͡f̴̛̫̪̩͇̳̮̠̀͘ͅ ̨͕̻̠̝̘̱̫͚͍̙̹̞̞͢͡I͔̻̲̝͈͕̫͎͇͘͢͡n̶͢҉̙̣̼͕̳̩̪̟̬̰̰̺̤͚̞̙͎t҉̠̤̺̗̬̤͚́́͡͠e̵̜̱̰͙͈̲̱̺̻̤̜̣͍̦͈̪͇̲r̸̛҉͍̺̪̦̮̙͍̰͖̤͔͖̤̻f̜̰͙̖̹̠͜͝a̸̡̬͔͎͓̦̮͕͙̣̝̼͓̗̠̲̦͜ͅc̵̴͉͔͚̼̬̖͇͚͚̹̘̹̗͙̙̝͘͜͡e̶̶̛̞̘̦͉̲͓̮̭̱̰̻̻̱̱̻̟͉ͅ,̱̗̹̺͇̫̜̼̀͠ ̴̧̲̳̱̗̬͙̦͇̩̲͉͠͝c̡̡͖͓̫̞͕͈̗̦̬̬͘o̡̕҉̼̻̘̠̺̲̬̟̱͜ͅp̸̸̙͇͍͔̼̦̀͘͞y̢̨̱͓̜͚̰̠̫̞͝ͅi̡̧͍͔͚͍̼n̶̺͈̯̟̤̯̻̙͚͚̩͎͚͇͕̙̗͍͞ͅg͍̳̰̤̞̥̯͕̰̝͕̟͍͘ ̨̀҉̶̺͚̳̥͇̜͔̗̬̻̺̰̳̭̰̹̞̰i̶̢͖̬̘̹̘̟̹̰̣̼̱͓̮̥͖̻̼̤͝t͏̛̜̲̣̝̞̦͓̻̠͚͇̜̞̳̻̙̲͈'̶͢҉̵̡̟̳̳̲̹̞͈͔̞s҉͓̺̤̻̺̫̹̖͇̜͝ ̢́҉̴͚̘̦͙̬ͅp͘͏̲̘̦̖̟͎͉̳̟̥͙̲̤̺̺̪̀͠͝ͅa̢҉͈̺̩̘̼̯̺̲̺̻̲͕͕̱̟͇͚͈͇͘͞t͎̣͇͖̟́͟͢t͘͜͏̧̮̦̰̟̬͎̳̟̪͔̭̝ͅe͏̪͔̣̼̗̥̯̞͕͎̬̞̦̺͘ŗ̵̵̧̠͈̹̫̼̱̘̭̳̥̦̬͘ͅņ͉̫̙̤͕̖̜̜͎̺͙̮̲̩͢͟ͅͅs͢͏͜҉̫̭̻̙͈̜͙͓̳̖̱̤̫͍͖ͅ ̢̛̱̼̣̣͜ͅḁ̶̣̮̭̬̝͈̹̰͍͖ń̷̶̺̩̥̲̤̻͍̯͜ͅd̡̘͚͈̘̯̬̫̰͈͟͢ ̸̧̼̠̝̝̙̘͕͖͔̤̲͔͙͔̖̰̫͍̀͜͞m̵̢̦̟̹̠̩̠̜̩̤̹̯͙̱̞̀̀͟e̵҉҉̨̭̳̟͚̻̭͍̩͇̥̺̞͇̯̤̙̙͟ͅt̶̥̻͍̯͉̫h̨̘̹͓̟̠͔̺̞́ớ̶̬̠͙̤͙̯̙͕͓̼̟̱̗̮̤͜d̴̴̻̲̩̹̫̥̣̩̱͕s̨̨̯̼̩̺̮̯̮̺͇͇̩̣̭ ̛̛̝̼͎͖̪̖̱̮̤̰̗f̸̯̩̼̫͍̭͓̱̮̤̰̘ọ̢̜̮͇̟̠̻̘͠͠r̶̥̪̭̳̻͎̲̣̰̱͡͞ ̶̨̛̘̥̣̘̻̯͍͈̘̲̟̫̮̦͚̲́͘Ĺ̖̟̟͓̗̠̻ͅͅe̴̶͖̝̬͔͓͕e҉̥͙̲͔̯̘̲̪̞͓͓͔͞'̢͏͇̼͙͇̯̰͖̳̟̯̪̲̲͚ͅs̶̸̨̧̘̤̻͓̹̭͍͚̩̀ ̷͎̬̫͇̞̱̩͖̟̯̰͈ͅó̢̞͇̠̭̝̩̲͚͟ͅw̛̪̲͕̗̤̬͉͈̩̕͟͞ņ͍̥̹̞̼͎̺͚̫͘͢ͅ,̵̴̧̥̟͓̰̤͕̯̝͝ ̴̵͇̩̙̣̭̪̙͖͈̤͇͖̘́͢͝ț̶̖̟͎͍͔̰̦̮͇̘͉́͠͠h̶̛҉̰̯̠̠͓̘̭̹̠̻̞͉͇̪̟͚̫ǫ̢͕̜̳̠̪͈͔͟͠͝u̷̶̡̲̙̘̗͍̱͟g̡̦͕͔̯̭̬̼̠̞̟̥̜͘͘h̛͞͏̷̢͙̘̞̖͙͔̥͙̞̞ ̷̶̷̡̪̗͕̹͇̝̭̜̙͘ḿ̴̨̧̝̺̱̝̖̳o̧͕͈̝̻̙͞ͅd̛̛͈͉̝i̸̭̻̰̫̠̫͙͚̝̭̻͝f̰̠͔͉̜̹̻̤͕̫̙͚͈̣͠͞͞ị̸̶̢̩̖̗̙̠̦͢͢e̡̻̩̪̬͉̳̟͞d̵̴̤̗̟͎͙͕̖̀́̕ ̷̶̻̻̹̲̕͢ͅt̴̜̭͎͘o̙̭̻̝̖̻̫͎̟̲̘̬̲͟͞͠ ͏̧҉͚̘̜͈͚̝͖͢b̨͚̼̠͔͕͇͉̟͇̱̫̜̬̫̘͢͜ͅè͏̨̱̻̥̟͍͙̹̫̙̗̱͠͡ͅt̢̯̪̫̹͙̳̱͇̝͎́͜͡t̡́͘͝҉͈͎̝̬̭̗̞̰͉͖̤͖̹͇̼ȩ̶̨̪̖͖̮̘̙͕̼͔̠̠̺̩̗̳̬͓̠̩́͟r͈̭̦̻̱͜ ̞͖̯̠̖͜͡f̴̷͟͏̸͖̱͇̙͓i̡͜҉͕̥̱̺͈̻̦̠͇͖̩̹͍̟̹̲́̀t̵̲̫̗̻͖̠͖͠ ̷̭͎̙̼̘̲̫̫͖̗̖̻̣̞̜̕͟͝͠h̠̲̹̣͕̼͍̹̘̜͔̺͍͎̮̬͉̰́͟ͅi͢͏̜͇̰͖͍̟̙͓͙̹̮̱̯̀͜͡ͅs̶̛̮͕̳̹̰̤͚̙͉̦̩̭̺̩͜ͅ ̨̻̱̳̼̕p̸̺̭̝͠͝ͅr̴̠̜̮̩̦̼̞̰̪̩͖͖̖̱̘̬̟͢͝͝͝ȩ̛͚̜͔̮̜̟̖̥͈̣̜͘͢-̶̷̳̠̙̻͓̺̯̥̝̻́̕ͅę̷̶͇͚̳̗͉͕̳̯͞x̵̵̭̹̻̤̹̣̟̰̱͕͖͓̤i̶̲̠̫̥͜͝s̴̨̨̨̬̣̻̜̠̠͉͍̰̯͔̕t̴̩̟͙̥̘̭͉̯̙̣̲̗̼̼̻̬͚ͅͅi̛͕̼̱͠n͉̯͙̤̘͈̣͢͜͝g̸̜͔̝͎̙̰͇̘̱̝̥̥͢͝ ̧̳͕̞̖͚̥̥͎́̀͞ş̱̮͈̼͇͖͉͉̤̗͚̦͡ͅt̛̟̭̼̫͙̣͉̮̮̲̲̙̭̬͘͠y̸̟͚̪̦̰̩̪̭̪̺̬̹̗̮͘̕͢ĺ͉̬̳̝̰̼̙̘͠é̶̷̤̫͖̳̦̙̣͝͡ͅ.̷̷̹͚̥̠͙̀ ̧̝̪͖̦̜̞͟͡ͅĮ̷̛̼̟̻̱̩͜͡t̶͇̭̲̩̰̘͇̹͈̬̰̳̥̘͠ ̸̢͕̳̖w̕҉҉̢̩͓̙̠̲̬̼̠͚̮̯̖̝̬͍̀a҉̝͚͍̰̬͕͕̯̤̭̞ͅs̸̨̲̣̘͚̣͈͢ ͏̛͔̘̣̞̺̖̠̞̫̖̪͉̫͡n̼͚̩͙͇͈͉̞̮̤͓̙̖̗̳̪̝͟ơ̸̧̞̞̭̰̦̖̳̭̣̞̦̘̕ͅt̵̵̢̘̹̲͕͙̦͇̤̟̙̘̪̘̯̙͍́ ̸̣̺̞̪͎̰̀̕͝ţ̼̼͓̟̮̲͓̫̪̼͙̹̬̯̥̟͇͡h̸̩͔̖̳̫̪̬̀͟ą̶̴̧̬͔̭̻͓̲̮̤͉͇͍̖͍͚͎̹̻͍͈͞t̵̡͍̝͇͔̗̭̹͎͖̖͘ ̡͕͔͉̱̬̺͇͎͚̠͈̗̰͓̥͕͘ͅd̢͉̗̦͓̪̖̟̠̺̱̪̼̼̺i͏̬̱̩̩̫̼̟̠̘̱͚̪̪̩͇͟f̶̧̮̫̩̼̲̖̺̥̺̝̱̤͕̀͘f҉͢͞͞҉̳͙͈̥̠̦̼͎̪̞̻̫̬̜̘͉̼í̢̛̯͈͙̠̹̱̝̩̖̱͈͙͈̀ͅc̛̼̺͓̪̦͍̘͇̩̫̰̥̹̮̗͈̙͓̠͜u̵̷̥̪̫͇̬̳̘̮̟̩̜͚͡l̵̴̜͚̮̭̙̬͜ͅt̡̼̞͙̞̘͓̹̻͚̖̼͞ͅ ͡͏̡̦̪͖̰̠̘̟̺̤̺͇͈͚̪̙͈͕͞ͅͅa̴̷̧̠̰̟͇͘n̷҉͇͇͎̪̫͔͚̜̞̣͕̱͈̪̣ḑ͎̻̝̗̥͈̱̀̕͢͠ ̳͓̙̱̘͔̟͚͇̥̀͢͟͝a̶̵̷̵҉͓̬̼̮̦͍̳̫̣̝̩̙̟̣͙͎̬̻l̵̡̨̛̯͚̭̥̥̱̼̘͔̥̭̹̰̝̦̭͚͠l̸̶͇͙̼̬̤̙̹͔̻̟̟̻̯̟̥̹̩̤̩ ͇̯̻̣̩͙̖̫͚̗͇̙̻̹̩̦̕͟ţ̞͍̦̮̦̻̞̦̹͈̥͘͜͝h̨͙͕͙̜͙̭͎̲̭̜̝̝̦͕̘̥͇͈̭a̸͢͢͟҉̘̻̟̹̠͎̹̱t̴͏̨͖̫̗̺̭̼͖͉̣̟͓ ̡͠҉̗̮͓̖̰̰̮͔̹̱ń͖̳̟̣̰̮̮̰̹̠͉̩̜͇̲͎̙̱̩͢͝ę̤͇̫̼͔͟è̘̩̝͙̼̥̯͔͈̙͓͔̦̜̳̕ḏ̴̼̦̫̘̭̟̭͔̥e̷̡͖̼͔̗̹̱͖̤̙͓̯̮̪͢d̷҉̶̶̧̲͔̭͕̰̫̭̼͓̙̹̰͖̞ ̵̛̝̟̖͉̻̝͖̻͈͈̟̣͎̠̖̪̬̤ͅţ̰̰̻̪̗̭͎̀͝o̶͏̡҉̪̺̝̪̱͈̦̰͙̳̳̳̞̜ ̷̨̲̯̻̫̻͍̦̱̲̣h̴̭̲̪̻͎͉̼̬̠̻͎̘͇̗̟̤̀͜a͏̢͕̦̩̟p̲̻̣͙̼̥͙̰̥̜̹͘͟͡p̜̬͖͈̹̫̦̞͖̦͈͕͈̺̞̩͎̩͘e̵̢̢̱͎̼͕͕̼̗̱̦͓̭̫̥̫̮͟n̴̴̶̡̮̬̙ ̵̵̭̬̬̀͠w̨̛̤̻̪͚̞͓̮̫̩̰̘̖̲͈ͅͅa̧̨͙̤̙̤͕͕͎͕̦͍̦̜̥͝͞͠s̵̨̘̟̝̻͕̦.͠҉̳̘̬̟̘̞͇̀͜ ̀҉̦̭̮͔̞͉̬̙.̢̛҉̧͙̞̦̦̰͓͎̜̳̭͟ ̨̡̞̬̹͖͙̗̞̭͉͓͚̫̯̜̭̯̖ͅͅ.̶̭̗̦͎̥̺̞̼̤̦̪̼͘̕͝͡ ҉͏͓̜̙̪̖̯ẁ̖̣̦̗̯̪̟̠̲̩̠́͜͝͠a҉̷̢͎͙̯͕̣͍i҉̟͇̠͓̰̦̬̺̪͇̫̠̟̼̘͕̠̠͔͢͜͠ţ̪͍͓̱̣̩̫̬̭̭͖͕͍͚̀͟͝͡,҉̛̘̱̘̣̟̯͓̪̀ͅ ̵̶̢̡̘͍͙͕͍̹̰̖͓̝͔͜w҉̶̠̩̟̟̤̬͇̹̹͘ḥ̶̡̢͉̜͙̗͈̞u̶҉̯̻͕̼͎̰̠̘́͡p͟͏̮̺̤̯̘͕̹̬͚s̴҉̟̭̹̲̜.̸҉̷̨̼̣̜̠̰̫̦̯̝̲͍̲̼̺̖͉̙͢ͅ
Blinking, not really sure what happened, I found myself sitting in the chair in the convention center, a thin warmth to my right, propping me up while cold, soft hands pulled on me from the left, the two ho-people keeping me upright.
"Brain activity is stabilizing," Amy whispered, barely covering restrained panic, "I think he's okay."
I blinked again, I sat up fully, tasting Crimson Satisfaction while I smelled Orange Worry. "Fuck, not again," I groaned quietly.
"What do you mean again," the healer hissed while I looked around, noting that her helmet was off, and that Taylor had removed the bottom part of hers as well. I'd need to remind them to keep suited up in the field, even if they were just healing. There was a commotion at the back of the room, grabbing the attention of everyone around us, so whatever the fuck had just happened had slipped by the others.
I had grabbed Legend's power, then couldn't grab Alexandria's, and then I tried to take Eidolon's and then. . . m̠̘͚̞͟y̖̩̠ ҉̼̜̘̺̣̪̀͠f̖̟̰̥͜i̛̖̗͘͡n̡͝͏̗̦̞̥͍̩̫͍ǵ͕̤̞̘͘e̶͉̹̮͎͉r̶̡̹͍͞t͖̯̝͎̬̫́͟͜i̻̤̼͍̮ͅp̶̡̡̜̙̳ş̞̖ ̹͙̀f͡҉͉͕e̵̼͉̦̞̱̬̗͓͢l̡̨̨͙̻̟̗ͅt̼͉͝ ̰͈̮͠s̨҉̶̯̤̮̹̙̥i̯ͅć̱̝̞͚͙̥̳̯́͞k͙͘ĺ̸͔̖̮͔͇̼͓̳͠ͅy̹̭̤͚͖̪͢ ̨̮̰̮̮̫̬̟̖s̩̯͓̦͖̥͠w̡̡̳̳̥̻͎͟è̘̖͔̥e̛̙̳̯̮͘͢t͕̬̩̩͔,̣͍̱̣̹̬̳ ͏̝̣̼̳̞g̺̩̙̳r̪̦̖͎̱ͅạ̸̠͇̙̯̙̦̲s͏̰̯̥̲͔̕p̭̺͟i̶̵̸̠͖̻̫͎̼n̻͉̘̪̬̼̜͠g̶̵̸͔͇̖͍͓̲̤ͅ ͍̣̟̙̺a҉̸̫̼n̛͍̼͔̗͙̮̫͟d̵̳̜͍̬̰͎͇͙ ̸̧̙͉̫̪̞̬̣̪̱͜i̼n̤̬̯̭̙͔̲t̸͙̭̱e͏̟̻̞̮͓̳ͅŗ̹̪̯̺͙͟t̢̯̯͞͡w̶̠͔̝̻̠͇͚͈͟͟i̸̙̰͖̮͘͞n̼̥͞e͍͚̮̦͡d̥͖̺ ͔͔̝͇̗̯̩͔́̕͜w̶̗̙̩̗̞i͔̳͖̙͍t͙̘̼͇̼̹̙̟̝̀͡͞h̲͔ ͡҉͏͓̫̻̼͎S̗̣̞͈͓ḥ̸̗̣̩͇͓͕̞̕a̯͎͕̻p̣͖͔͕͞e̗͉r̙̬̗̻̞͉̣͎'̮̻̩̟͖̤̱͟s̵̘̙͙̙͍̟͎̀ͅ ̢̟̰̜̗̖̬̞͟ą̭͎̦͖̘̕s͏̭͙͓͙͙͚̬-̴̡̣͚
Oh fuck no, I thought, dragging myself back from whatever the fuck that was. A few days ago I'd tried to focus on what'd happened with Dean, and promptly passed the hell out, waking up no closer to an answer. While Amy being here might help, now was not the fucking time!
"Sometimes when I try to use my core powers things go. . . awry," I whispered back, reaching out with Acoustokinesis to keep the conversation quiet, only to have the power in question fail to engage. The fuck? I tried again, and it still didn't work. "Give me a sec," I whispered, ignoring Amelia's objections as I closed my eyes to try to visualize my powers.
Instead of the collection of purloined flames that I normally saw I was greeted with nothing. Nothing at all. Tamping down my fear, I tried to reach for a power, any power, only to come up empty.
Are you fucking kidding me? I raged internally. Leviathan was showing up in two hours and I was back down to my base powers? I was going to fucking DIE!!! Controlling my breathing, I wrestled my emotions into place. Okay, test to see what you do have. I couldn't exactly injure myself to test my healing, but there were still a good bit of low-key, on the spot powers I could test.
Coming back, I found both my hands were now held, having dropped more deeply into my own mind then I meant to, or had ever been able to before. Not a good sign, but no time to investigate. "Are you okay?" Taylor asked, concern saturating her tone.
"I'm finding out," I told her, my own tone neutral, which was about as much as I could without lying or throwing up a Sound Bubble. The obvious thing to test would be my Power Sight, but that seemed like a bad idea, so I tried a different tack. Focusing on the boots of my costume, I tried to change the color of my boot. At first, that wouldn't work either, but I had a half second where I felt like I was falling, reflexively gripping the girl's hands, before it darkened from blood red to an impenetrably deep black. Shifting it back I blew out a long breath of relief.
"We're going to be taking a five-minute recess," Legend announced loudly, his confident voice carrying and giving no hint of the panic he was likely feeling as. . . I wasn't sure why he'd be panicked, only that he was. I hated this. "Please take your seats and we'll be with you shortly," he commanded and those around us grumbled as they started to sit down.
"Amy," I whispered, interrupting her inaudible muttering, "Tell me what's going on with my Shard." She looked at me, confused, "Corona something-or-other."
"Pollentia and Gemma," she corrected, frowning as she hadn't let go of my hand. "What are you doing?" she demanded a moment later, panic shooting through her tone once more.
"Other than being a bit confused, nothing, why?" I asked, worried, only now noticing how much I hurt.
She looked at me, then back down, like she always did when she was looking at someone's biology. "It's going nuts!" she revealed.
"Nuts how?" I pressed when she stopped there, which didn't do anything for the panic now twisting in my gut, my muscles aching from having been strained and a migraine threatening to descend on me at any moment.
"I don't fucking know," she whispered harshly, panic growing, "I don't exactly know how all of this works. It's just like you're. . what the fuck?"
"What is it?" Taylor said, leaning over so far that she was practically in my lap. My headache worsened, and I had to keep from gripping either of their hands too tight.
"It's changing shape," she hissed, looking at me fearfully. "They're not supposed to do that!"
"I'm weird, you should've realized this," I quipped weakly. "I'm. . . I'm just going to close my eyes for a moment. Wake me up when he gets past the '1 in 4 of you will die' part of the peptalk," I told the two, eyes drooping. I felt tired, more tired than I ever had before in this word, the panic of the moment passing. Even when I passed out, I was more confuse than tired. If anything, it was like how I'd felt after the second Raid, but less mental, somehow. It didn't matter, if my Shard was changing, I couldn't exactly do anything to stop it, and maybe a nap would-
"Oh no you fucking don't!" Panacea hissed, and I was suddenly wide awake, my heart racing and thudding in my ears. It was like I'd pulled two all-nighters then drank half a dozen Red Bulls, that exhausted kind of energy coursing through me.
"The fuck Amy?" I hissed, Taylor looking between us, expression unreadable behind her mask.
"You are not going to sleep with some weird power-concussion!" she hissed right back.
She had a point, but so did I, "And I'm fighting Leviathan in two hours. I'm not so sure why I'm so tired but maybe I need the nap!"
"Um, guys?" Taylor asked, unsure.
"You need to be conscious, and you can't fight him if you're in a coma," she replied vehemently.
I scoffed, "Okay, then you could've done whatever the hell you just did then!"
"Guys," Taylor insisted, a bit louder.
"What?" we both asked.
Taylor glanced around, and only now did I notice that some of those around us were staring. Taylor had let go, but I was still holding Panacea's hand as we argued. Taking it back, I gave a quick "Sorry" to those around us before taking a deep breath. "I know you're trying to help Amelia," I whispered to her, "but ask before you fill my bloodstream with stimulants, please."
Taylor shot Panacea what I'm sure was a scandalized look as she leaned slightly over me, "You what?"
"He was gonna sleep with something happening to his brain," she whispered back, leaning towards her, and fully over me, as well. I pressed backwards into my chair to get out of her way, and the hero on the other side of Amy, a larger man wearing a cowboy hat and a domino mask who burned with the Orange & Red Flames of Personal Pyrokinesis shook his head at me commiseratingly. I had no idea what he meant by that, but a moment later I realized I could See his power. Focusing on the person in front of me, her power sprang to light, the Green & Gray Aura of Glass Form playing along her, and only her.
Okay, I told myself, ignoring the small healer almost in my lap. Power Sight is working. . . only it's different. On a whim I tried to grab the power of the person in front of me, only to feel an odd ache and for my own power to not extend. Feeling a finger poking me between my armor plates, I realized that both girls were staring at me, and Panacea was doing the prodding.
"Don't do that!" she whispered, and I just shrugged as I realized she'd once again grabbed my hand, the only part of me that was exposed.
"Sorry?" I asked more than said. "My power's just on the fritz."
That got concerned looks from both of them. "Well it's doing something! She whispered, leaning close enough so only Taylor and I could hear her. Glass Form glanced backwards and shot all three of us a reproachful look, the brunt of it focused on me. I stared back, a 'what do you want?' look on my face. After a moment she huffed and turned back to face forwards, and I was poked again.
"Stop ignoring me, let it be, and don't mess with it," Amy commanded quietly. "It was starting to calm down until you did whatever you did!"
"I was going to do just that and take a fucking nap when someone messed with me," I couldn't help but point out, but she was right. While I was still unnaturally awake, I didn't feel nearly as tired as I had even a few minutes ago, though a nap still sounded nice.
"I'm not apologizing," she stated, sitting back in her seat and folding her arms in what I'm sure she thought was a strong gesture, but just looked to be a mix of adorable and bratty.
Before I could respond, Legend's voice rang out across the space, the Triumvirate once again flying in the air, a slight blue distortion hanging around the floating Eidolon. However, he did not begin with the speech I half remembered.
"Thank you for coming, everyone," Legend said. "Today, we are going to reach for the stars. With the forces we've gathered, the preparations we've made, and the time we've had to plan, we're going to try to do something that many have thought impossible." He looked around the room, and his next words sent my thoughts crashing to a screeching halt.
"Today, we kill an Endbringer."
Wrapping up with New Wave, I left with a warning that even that wouldn't be enough to seriously injure Leviathan, just knock him back. That might be overestimating the Endbringer's toughness, but I'd rather have them be pleasantly surprised then be overconfident. I returned back to base to complete the last of my preparations, still ahead of schedule. My normal weapons wouldn't so much as annoy Levi, so I traded out my pistol for something that'd only taken Theo a few hours to whip up.
With the only requirement being 'semi-auto, magazine fed, and requiring a Brute rating of one to fire', he'd gone a bit overboard. Slipping the oversized pistol out of its case, I grabbed one of the five magazines it came with, each holding five twenty-millimeter rounds he'd personally made for it. The rounds looked, off. Normally there was a certain ratio of bullet to cartridge, but these things were 90% projectile, 10% everything else, allowing them to fit in a magazine smaller than a textbook, further shortened by a bit of Armsmaster's secondary power to allow the thing to be a minor extradimensional space, resulting in a bar of metal that was four inches long, 1 inch wide, and one inch deep.
Trying to fire an anti-materiel round with a pistol would've broken a regular person's wrist on its own, but with the Speed Zones lining the barrel, even I needed to enhance myself to use it. If I hadn't been able to reinforce my joints with projected metal, I'd have needed to discharge a shield every time I wanted to fire the damn thing. After testing, I'd had to have had Theo repair the gun from the stress of firing, which had then turned into a redesign of the entire assembly to work with the speed zones contained within, which had only taken him another hour. Tinkers, with proper support, were bullshit.
Holstering the weapon, and my four spare clips, I tried to think of what else was left. I could make melee weapons with Metal Creation if I needed to, and there wasn't much else I could do with my powers. Vejovis' build really didn't lend itself to Endbringer fights. Glory Girl's power was a good enough base, but Bug Control, which was practically useless, combined with a bio-manipulation power that I didn't dare use to its fullest extent meant that, while he was good in small circumstances, he was completely outclassed in this situation.
Cheating subtly with Aerokinesis, Speed Zones, and maybe Spatial Manipulation would help, but getting through the day without outing myself was going to be a bitch and a half considering I couldn't just act as support, I was going to have to throw down with Leviathan to fulfill the terms of my. . . choices? My contract with Abaddon? I wasn't really sure how to frame it, but in the end it didn't really matter.
I could lean more heavily on Metal Projection if I needed to, use Size Manipulation to shrink projectiles, and use Momentum Infusion to 'throw' things, but anything more than I'd hold in reserve. If I really needed to, I could say 'fuck it' and let loose, throwing suns, creating Hard Light tentacles, and blasting with Light while hiding in Shadow, but there'd be no coming back from that.
I'd live, and I could, if not defeat Levi, fight him to a standstill that way. That wasn't even counting in the powers I was about to grab. If they were heroes, and they lived through the fight, I wouldn't use the copied powers. However, given how the death toll of these things, if I didn't grab some of these powers now then I never would be able to.
Speaking of which, I called upon the powers I'd just acquired. Kinetic forcefields blazed to life in my hands, not glowing but seeming to burn with Purple & Red Flames, the same flames that burned when I covered an air-blade with a weapon shield. Fair enough, I thought. Given how they were color coded, I'd expected that to be the case, though the flames were an odd touch. Flipping over to Manpower's ability, I brought it online, only for it to. . . bounce?
It wasn't like trying to use Night or Fog's ability, I could mentally grasp it fairly easily, but as soon as I tried to use it, it wouldn't click. It was an odd feeling, like trying to turn the key in an ignition, only to find there was already a key there. A key that started an entirely different car. It wasn't the best metaphor. Is there a limit to how many powers I can copy? Have I hit it?
No, I thought, I copied it, I just can't use it. If there was a limit, then it'd make sense that I could copy, but not use, more powers until my Unlimited Shard Works grew in strength (as all Abaddon Shard based powers constantly did) to handle them. I could add them to my repertoire, just not grasp them to use yet. I'd finally hit the cap with Lady Photon's power, and with time I'd be able to handle more, I'd just need to be more careful about which ones I activated from now on.
That was assuming, of course, that it wasn't something entirely different, as, if I was being honest, I had no idea what was going on, but it could wait. None of my plans required me to use newly copied powers, so I'd still try to keep copying, even if I wasn't able to utilize them. If I could use one, it'd be Manpower's, since the methods of his strength and toughness would likely stack with Glory Girl's, creating, if not a multiplicative effect, then at least an additive one.
Flechette definitely jumped up in priority, however. I needed to copy her power from her, and to save if I could, but this didn't change my short-term plans. I needed to survive, I needed to keep Taylor, Amy, & Vicky safe, I needed to keep my true powers hidden, and I needed to keep this fight from turning into a bloodbath, in that order.
I couldn't remember where everyone gathered the first time around, but I arrived twenty minutes early at the convention center that was serving as a staging ground for the heroes before Levi made landfall. The place was abuzz with activity, hundreds of parahumans milling about outside, so many that I couldn't pick out any individual power. The Flames and Auras overlapped each other, giving me a headache when I tried to pick them out individually to See them.
Before I stepped into the building proper, I looked for one Flame in particular. Noting an area that had been set up near the entrance, with tape blocking it off from foot-traffic except for one section with a tape arrow pointing outwards, I waited. It took a minute, but there was a warping of air and suddenly there were a dozen parahumans. I knew Strider was male, but other than that I didn't know who to focus on, the Flames and Auras of everyone's powers stacking up and muddling any cursory read.
A man in black and blue, with a lightning bolt jacket, suddenly disappeared, the air twisting around where he'd just been. Right, gone in a flash, like a bolt of lightning, I mused, waiting. He was back a minute later, and I got a better look at him, able to See the Silver & Black Flames of Area Teleportation among the mess of other powers, though before I could get a good read on it, it collapsed in on itself in a blazing vortex and he was gone once more. The six others he brought walked off, and it was another two minutes before he arrived once more, with three more, all of which seemingly in cold-weather gear. My power reached out to his, but it couldn't get a good handle until the power pulsed and he disappeared once more, leaving behind a single, glowing ember of power which was carefully pulled back to me.
It blazed to life but, having no idea how it worked and not wanting to accidentally use Striders power in front of everyone else, I didn't pull it up. That was assuming I could even use it in the first place, and I hadn't been correct about hitting my limit, or that, like Trickster, something about me disallowed teleportation, or that something entirely different was happening entirely. There was nothing I could do now; I'd deal with that later. Having already stood outside the door for nearly ten minutes, and starting to attract a few looks, I moved through the doors into the lobby of the convention center. If I'd thought there were a lot of parahumans outside, I was completely unprepared for what met me inside. There were hundreds of parahumans gathered here, their Shards overwhelming me as I had to wrestle my Power Sight down before I walked into something, or someone.
Blinking my eyes clear, I tried to find a familiar face. New Wave was here, Manpower's quiver slung across his back. Victoria was over with Dean, the other Brockton Bay Wards gathered around them as they spoke quietly, along with what seemed to be the Wards from other cities. They turned, almost as one, and stared at me. Their expressions rang the gamut from impressed, to dismissive, to evaluative. I gave them a solid nod and continued to look around. Feeling Taylor's presence, I glanced over and saw her and Panacea off to the side, a muscular guy in what looked like a He-man costume talking to them as they both looked like they wanted to be anywhere but there.
'Help' Taylor wrote in bugs in a vent, and I rolled my eyes as I walked over, hearing the tail end of what the guy was saying, "After this we should spend some time together. I'm the Apotheosis of humanity, after all. You won't be disappointed."
"Everything all right?" I asked, getting twin thankful glances from the pair. The other guy noticed and turned to face me, his expression annoyed but quickly shifting to an aggressive smile.
"Haven't seen you before. You must be new. I'm Apotheosis," the man said, offering his hand.
"Vejovis," I replied distractedly, taking the hand as I focused to See him. Screened as he was by powers I already knew, I was able to get a glimpse of what he could do. He wasn't wrong, I supposed, he had an Aura of Peak Physical Potential. It was hard to get the details from his power, but it seemed similar to Peak Condition, just inferior to the version Herb, Charlie, or I had.
His grip was unusually firm, and it took me a moment for me to realize he was trying to crush my hand. I let go, looking down amusedly as he squeezed harder. "Sorry, I don't swing that way. Can you please let go of my hand?"
He scowled and did so, moving to walk away, bouncing off as he tried to shove me with his shoulder. He recovered and strode off, muttering under his breath about cockblockers. "Villain?" I asked the other two.
"I wish," Taylor replied, shaking her head and looking up at me, tense anticipation radiating off of her. "This is really happening." I nodded, not really sure what else to say. "Okay," she told herself, nodding in return. "Okay, we can do this."
Panacea expression was hidden behind her helmet, but her body language seemed to indicate indecision before she put a hand on the bug controller's arm. "We'll be in the back. We'll be fine." I'd never really noticed how much shorter than Taylor Amelia was, the bug controller having a good six inches on the Biokinetic, but the gesture seemed to help.
"You've done this before?" Lady Bug asked, turning to look at the her.
The healer nodded, "You're with me, so we'll both be safe." She turned to look at me, "And you'll keep Vicky safe." It wasn't a question as much as a command, but I didn't mind.
"Even if I have to pull out the stops," I promised. Mollified, she pulled her hand back, crossing them once again, the armor under her robes making the gesture awkward.
Falling into an uneasy silence, I looked around, trying to spot heroes that were stand apart to See their powers. It was a wild mix: Matter Absorption, Coral Creation & Manipulation, Ammo Tinker, Laser Form, Bubble Blasts, Hardening, Imperfection Bestowment, Personal Velocity Manipulation, the list went on.
Scanning the Wards, I Saw several powers there, Bullet Form, Weapon Empowerment, Mist Binding and others, before I spotted the one I wanted. Dressed in purple and white, her power blazed in the same colors, the intensity of the flames nearly making my eyes water. Unlike the other powers, I didn't get a description, but what felt like a name in my mind.
This was STING, and it could be nothing else. Even looking at it made my head hurt, but I new for sure I'd be able to pick it out if I needed to later on. She was talking with others, and hadn't noticed my staring, likely due to my turning my face to the crowd as a whole as I Saw her out of the corner of my eye.
Actually that might be a good idea. Looking around the room, I tried to spot another power of similar strength, as this pre-meeting gathering would make for a great scouting opportunity. Sadly, none of them seemed to jump out at me, each of them muddled and screened by all the others. I could focus in on people individually, with powers ranging from Terrakinetic Whips to Inertia Cancelling, the latter with a cooldown that scaled with the force cancelled, but nothing really stood out in power.
A familiar Burnt Orange & Bright Yellow Aura caught my eye, and I told the girls, "Be right back," as I made my way to the crowd towards Sundancer. She was leaning against a wall in her old costume, holding her left arm with her right as discomfort and nervousness practically hummed through her stance.
"Sundancer," I called as I got close, causing her to jump in surprise.
Her expression was unreadable behind her helmet, but the way she said "Vejovis," caused me to smile.
"I hadn't heard from you since the Truce ended," I greeted her warmly. "How are you doing?"
"Good," she offered half-heartedly, looking around. "Are you sure you should be talking to me?"
I shrugged, "I don't see why not. We're all here to fight together, just like before." I moved to lean against the wall next to her, looking at all those gathered. "Besides, you're not one of the bad ones."
She was silent for a long moment, before muttering so quietly that I would've missed it without my powers, "Yes I am."
"Wanting to go home isn't a crime, Marissa," I murmured back, my words only reaching her. Her head snapped over to me, as she went completely still. "You aren't the only one far from home. Superheroes, . . this is all absolutely insane, and to them it's completely normal, and now we're going to fight water Godzilla."
She stared at me for a bit longer before relaxing, looking back out across the crowd with me. "At least this one doesn't have atomic breath," she quipped.
I blinked in surprised, before I shook my head, ruefully. "I think you're the first one here that's gotten my references. Have you looked at the tv they got? It's superhero everything. It's just boring after a while."
"And their games suck," she agreed, joy in commiserating taking her mind off what was coming. "They don't even have. . . they suck," she trailed off, and the silence, for degrees of silence in the busy space, rested between us. "Do you miss it?"
"I've been here a bit over a month, and I've been kinda busy," I pointed out without malice. "You?"
"Seventeen."
It took me a moment to understand she meant she'd been here for seventeen months, and I did a bit of mental math. "Madison then. Thought so. Don't worry," I reassured her, not moving, "I'm not going to tell anyone. The only one of your group that seems like he might've been Ziz'd is Trackstar. Genesis, Ballistic, and Normal Boy seem fine."
"And. . ." she trailed off.
"Noelle?" I asked, and Marissa stiffened, slowly nodding. "I'm honestly not sure. I want to believe I can help her but sometimes powers can change you to the point that you're no longer. . . you. Any help after that wouldn't be restoring you, but making you into what the person trying to help thinks you were. She's strong, holding out like she has. A year and half and still sane? That's a girl who deserves a happy ending, if I can give it to her. Question is, is she her, or is she just the power that thinks she's her, like the clones that she makes?"
The silence stretched again before Sundancer replied. It was quiet, almost pleading, and only meant for my ears. "I just want to go home."
I looked over her, ruthlessly repressing the urge to give the poor girl a hug. Now wasn't the time, she might react badly, and it'd draw far more attention than either of us wanted. Instead, I told her, "If we don't stop this place from going crazy, we might not have a home to return to. When this is all over though, not just today but all this craziness, come find me. I can't send you home now. Not won't, can't, but once the fighting's over and the dust's settled? I'll find a way."
"And if I wanted to stop . . . travelling?" she asked, hope poorly hidden in her tone.
"Then there'd be a place for you with the Penumbral Defenders," I promised, passing her my card. "All you'd need to do is ask."
"I'm not," she shot back, almost reflexively, taking the card and quickly storing it in in a pocket. "I just. . ." she trailed off.
"Wanted to keep your options open?" I suggested.
"Yes. That," she agreed.
I pushed off the wall, moving back into the crowd, calling behind me "I look forward to working with you again, Sundancer. Stay safe." She didn't reply.
Returning back to my teammates, Taylor was still looking at Marissa while Amelia asked, "What was that?"
"Recruitment," I replied, moving to stand back with them. "You know the girl I told you about, who had a bad Trigger event and was branded a villain in defiance of the law?"
Lady Bug glanced between us as Panacea glanced back over towards Sundancer, the healer's body language softening. "Same thing?"
"Worse," I replied, making sure our conversation was private. "She and the rest of the Travelers got pulled through from another dimensional at the tail end of a Simurgh attack. They Triggered during the attack, and despite her not being turned into a Ziz-bomb she and her friends found themselves attacked by all sides, in a strange land, where superpowers were suddenly a thing. She has no secret identity because, in this dimension, she has no identity."
"People don't Trigger during attacks," the healer argued, not with enough malice to be outright calling me a liar anymore, just pointing out the common perception.
I shook my head, "We really need to sit everyone down and go over what's going on. The Travelers, after being dumped on Earth Bet, stumbled across something that let them artificially Trigger. The only one who was actually messed with by Ziz was Trickster, and the others just want to go home."
"How do you. . ." Amy asked, trailing off as the announcement came for everyone to gather for the briefing. She shot me a look that I was starting to understand meant 'We'll talk about this later' and we followed the tide of para-humanity into a large room, screens set high on the walls showing the Triumvirate, who were floating above a Dais at the back of the room, watching as everyone filed inside. Taking a seat near the middle-left, Panacea and Lady Bug sitting on either side of me, I focused on the big three, straining to See past all the other powers in the room.
Resisting the urge to open the eyes of my mask to get a better look, I focused as hard as I could, barely able to make them out. None of them where what I expected.
Legend, front and center, was wreathed in the restless Silver & Faded Blue Aura of Absolute Territory. The power had an intensity that rivalled Theo's, but looked weak, almost worn. His power created a beam that allowed him control over what they struck. That was. . . incredibly overpowered on the surface, though I was sure there were all sorts of details that I couldn't make out, having to peer through the haze of all the others to See even that.
Regardless, it should be enough for my power to copy, as his flight was him using his power to effect the air around him. While the man was the best of the Cauldronites, he was still a member of that group, and thus I had no compunctions against copying his power in the pursuit of his stated goals. Reaching out, his flying was indeed enough for me to grab a bit of his power, though something odd happened as I did so. When it touched his power, instead of skimming off a bit like normal, it seemed to sink slightly into the man's Aura. Some of the my Flame seemed to dissipate, subsumed into his power, but as it did so the glow of his Aura strengthened slightly, and it was from a bit of that strengthened Aura that my power pulled his.
Legend lifted up slightly, a flicker of surprise flashing across his face before his previous, confidant smile replaced it once more. Alexandria leant forward, but he gave a minute shake of his head before she could say anything, murmuring something to her. The strengthened portion of Aura spread across him, diminishing slightly in intensity but filling the rest until it was a uniform glow once more, the faded blue looking a little more vibrant.
That was. . . odd, but worth it for access to his power. Bringing it online, to see if it came with any sensory effects, I found that I couldn't. Just like with Manpower's ability, there was that sense of blockage, of trying to activate something that was already on. Either way, I probably shouldn't be attempting to figure it out in a room packed to the gills with PRT, so I ignored it, turning to his compatriot.
Alexandria, to the left of Legend, had the Grey & Faded Black Aura of Personal Temporal Stasis. I was confused, watching her, trying to figure out how the hell that worked out to flight, super strength, and everything else she was supposed to do, but as I stared it started to fall into place. I wasn't sure how it worked, but her strength was her moving but not able to be moved in turn, though how that turned into flight I had no clue. I supposed not moving with the earth as it travelled through space might do that, but it'd only be in one direction, and not be the thing that allowed someone to hover. Her power too, looked weakened, though not to the extent that Legend's was.
Reaching out, once again a bit of my power merged into hers, strengthening her Aura, though she didn't appear to notice. However, when I tried to take a bit of power for my own, it just slid off hers, lacking anything to grab onto. Oh come on! I thought. She's flying, how is that not using a power with a visual effect! However, my power disagreed. As much as I tried, I couldn't copy it. At least I've seen it, I comforted myself. When she's using it to fight, I'll see her power in action.
That just left the Big Kahuna, Eidolon.
His power, unlike Legend's, which seemed ready to blast off at a moments notice, or Alexandria's, which held tight to her body, almost like a shell of power, was spread out, roaming over the crowd as he did. . . something. It was intense, but the Aura of Dark Blue & Faded Green resisted my attempts to identify it. He likely had some sort of Thinker ability active and was scanning the crowd with it. Endbringer Truce my ass, I grumbled internally, not really surprised that he held to the rules as well as the villains did. I reached out to grab his power, wondering what I'd get.
I'd Seen his power, which was what was required, even if I had no idea what he currently had active. Hopefully I'd grab his method of flight, and I could figure out what the hell it did later. With any luck I could stack it with Vicky's to up my flying speed. Reaching out, my power brushed against his. As with the other two, a bit of my own power flowed into his, strengthening his Aura. Trying to pull a bit off, I started to get it, before his own power lashed out, wrapping around my own and trying to draw it in further.
Mentally pulling back, I found I couldn't nor could I separate the tendril of power I'd extended.
"Shit," I swore under my breath, having no idea what the hell was going on.
I wasn't the only one, as Eidolon bobbed once, letting out a panicked "Fuck!" as he started to fall out of the air, only to be caught by Alexandria. His power pulled harder on mine, taking in more and more, and I started to hurt. It wasn't a pain that came from anything in my body, it was a lance of agony that went to my soul and arced through my brain on the way there. The migraine from hell instantly sprouted and then only intensified while I wasn't able to do anything to stop it, the feeling spreading through the rest of my body. Muscles spasming and straining, it felt like my eyes were on fire as I bit down on a cry of my own, sitting ramrod straight to try to hide what was going on.
I dimly heard the girls on either side of me whisper something as others looked up front at what was going on, but even when the guy in front of me stood up, blocking my line of sight to Eidolon, that didn't sever my connection. No one payed any attention to me as they all tried to spot what was wrong with the Triumvirate, but that was the silver lining on this fucking hurricane. What the fuck did I do? What the fuck do I do? Feeling Amy's hand gripping mine, I desperately pulled the material on my hands back hoping she could help, the drain increasing as my attention momentarily slipped.
Fighting it, my power gripped his firmly, pinning it in place to try to strip it off even as it sunk hundreds of draining pincers into my own. Splayed out like it was, I͘ ̯͙͖c̲͔o̘̗̙̜̜͟ul̖͔̭̻̝d̰̼̺ ̤̤f̵͎͉̯͍̭i̛͖̪̗̪̺na͉̦̤̩̪̫̳l͕l̛y̟̟̣̼ ͚͚͍̱̙͕ͅS҉e̮e͖.͉͇̜͎̗̣̯
E̤̬̙̩͍i̝͇ḏ̸͕̟o͇̮̜͎̼͇͞l̬ón̳̮̤'̙̩̺s̖̟̮͖͎̞ ͍p҉̼̳̯o͉̻̙̳̜ͅw̥̤̲͍̼͟e̮̟̜̬r͍͢ ̹͉̗̯̱w̲̟a̖̖̮̪͇̦͞s̜͓̠͚ ̳̥͙̫͓̣̟͜s͇̰̼o̘ ͘ì̪͈̰̦̻̮n̸̪̙c͙̳͎̗̭͟r̛̪e̗͈̰d͉̬͉͖͇̪̕i͏͍̬͈̙̭bl̳͖̥̙̟ͅͅy͓͚̝̞̜̯͟ͅ ̯̳͞s̵̲̜͔͚im̧̼̤p̮̱̞͙̖̖ͅl̬e̕ ̻͍͖̠̭t̛͇̼̪͎̟h̤a̭̱̩̲̲̬̺̕t͞ ͎̭͉̘͍I̬̦̺ ̳̦̮̯ha͎̟̹ḑ̠̹̝̱̟̯ ̤̫̼̫͕̺̬͘t͕̣̪̻͝o̺̮̩͖̣̩̖ ̯͙̮l͙̳͉̲ͅa̡͉̣̠͉̼ų͕̮̘g̰̩̠̞̼h͖̲͙̕.̸̟̲̙͙̲͈͚ ̳̠͓̀ͅI̙̯̖̺͓ͅṯ̣͎̤͇ ̨̞̭ͅw̞͇̳̘͍̼̭ḁs҉n̖̱'̜͇͠t̘̥̳̮̝͘ ҉̫̯͉̳'̴a͙̥ny̩͔̲ ̙̦̳͈͉͞t̶̳̯̗h̝̻͓ͅr̻͈͓̹̳̺e͇͎e͓̞̺ ͖̖̺͟p̻o̩͓̣͓̖w̜̲̘͚e̵̼ŗ̰͚͖̜͇̲s̘͓͟'̙͙͢ ̣̪͔̙̜͠i̢̬̙̺͓̝̗ͅt҉͎̪̖̰̘̫̼ ̬͙̻͉wa͖̞̭̝͚s̘͙͇̹ͅ ̵͕̠̰̬̞̙̗I͏̮͔̤̯n̛̙̜̩̖͙̼̭t͞er̷̗̝̘̻̘ͅf̠̣a̰̞̱̫͔͎͖c̡͙̣̙̬e̶̱.̗ ͔͇̳ͅH̗̥̹̺̯̝e͈̘̙̮̜̹ ̵̤wa̛͙̜͇̘̮s̳̞͖n͕̻̻̹̙͓̹'͖͘ṱ̖͉̭̩͉ͅ ͏͚̟̩̪u͔̤̭̝͖̮͘s͓̹͉͖̝i̮̯̠̲ṋ̠̙̟̱͍̹͟g͖͟ ̪́h͍́i̥̹̥̬s̴̺̯͉͕ ̝̬̹̺͉̘͍̀p͓o̤w̼̩̺̻̣͚e͠r̳̬̖ͅ ̣̺̹̺̪͓he̖͖͔ ̵w̥̳̜a̵͈̜̠͎̰̩̹ś͕̞̫̻ ̦̝͇͘u͔͜s̺͍̺ị͈͖̼n̺̰̱̱͈̝̭g̺ ҉͔̹̰T̙̙͎̭͔̯ḩ̱̱̼e̻͔͔ ͔͓̳̺̺͓ͅT̥̲͍h̹̯̺i̱͓̙nk̩̫͎̺̭͕e̵̳r͟'̘̠̲̭̼̜s̟̞͉̱͕͢!͙̠ ̧̠̤͈͚̝͍B͙ut͔̻͍͕̪̹͔ ͇̜̭̣̠͢ͅh̟͈̮̟̻̝e͎̟͇ ̭̝u̠̯̟̹͉͕ͅś͈͖̪͔e̸̮̺d͈͖̠̠͎̱̫ ̳̺̯̱̠̺͡t͚͖͓͓̟h̟͎e͏̠̮̟̳͔m̷̻̭͎̱͕̯̟ ̩̯̜̗̪͙̀a̧s̗̟͕͓̳͖ E̡͚̤n̠̝̰̬t̗̼͎̙͍̟i̬̯̻̯̤͇t̟̜͖̗͜i̧͉̹e̷̱s̩̼̞̤͍̯͢ ̭̲ḏ̵͓i̛̹̼ḍ̨͖̟̝̗,̟̺͙͕̟͓͠ͅ ̥̣̻̘f̨u̹̟͖͚̥͟ļ͚l̵͚ ̱̫̱̯̥̤͎o͕̖̭͍͖͇̠f̼̭͇̻͍͙̹ ̫͖̘̣͝s҉ò̠̘u͇̲̣̬͖̥̣͟n̸̦̣̯͇̙̹ḍ̬̰̣ ̪̱̩͙͓͝ą̱̝̙͓̘ͅnd ̻f͘u̟͕͙̺̫͢r͕̪̬̠̮y͎̬͕͈̯͢ ̤̼͈a̰͉̣ń̩d̷ ͕̬̜̹̼͍́w̳̫͇̱i͖̮̘̘͎̼t̻̥̕h̛̫͕͉ ̗̞̫͚̺̝n҉o̗͖̳̲̗ ̼̘̺̱̤̯̪th̸̲̘ǫ̳u̫̙̭̗̻̫̥g̶̭ẖ͈̤̝͈̻̲̀t̰̪͙͇̭͎ ̶̬̖͓̲̭̬t͈̰o̤̖̻̦̫ ̣s҉͚͚̣̱o̤̪̟m̮̟̤e̷͎̰̠̯̩͚t̴̖͔͇͕h̻̳͚̜̙in͙̘̩̲̪g͓͈ ͍l͎͢i̛̬͔̦̞̪k̰͙̤̞̻̟̩e̛̯͙͈̬̗̯ ̗͎̤̪̺͚͢ş͕u̺͙s҉̭͔̙̣͈t̸͖̫a̰͍̖̭͍͍͝in͍̣̻̞̙̯̠a̰̩͇̭̮b̴̖̤͔͙i̫̯̥͎̰͉l̷͍ị͇t̙͉̠̫͇͎ͅy̺͍̠͓̭̩ ̙̜͍d͢e̱͍̟̦̱̦s̶͚̟̟̜̖̩p̰̺̩̰̞i̺ͅt̤͖̟̻e̘̣̺̪ ͉̲t̫̥̪͎͎͡h͎̱̳͎͈̙͝e͓̼̺̦͉̙i̩̤r̡͇͍͍͓̗ ̴̼͕̰̮ͅg̠̯̞̟͍̯̀ͅr͕͙̣̱̟̮a̗̞̟̺͙̣n͏̹̯̥̼̺d ̯͓̣̥͇͈e͙̱̩̭̹̺ͅx̯͎͓p͏̯e̻̞͙̠̹̘̳͠r̷̜̯̳͕̖i͖͡m̢͚̱͉̖̰̼̗ȩn̵̟̙͉̺͖ͅͅt҉̙̖!͉͟ ̙̠͔̺T̲ḩ͎̟͔̼͉e҉̞͈y̫͈͇ ̶̠h͟a͈̣d̸̗̪̙̯͇̗ ͎̲̯͉̖̳̰B̹͔͟i̡̱l͏͇̝̫͍͈͙̤ĺ͚̣̪͓̝i̟̗̣̝ͅơ̗̖̤̙̞ṇ̨̝s͟ ̛͍͎͕̦̙̪̙of ̤t͈̥͍͇͘h̤͠e̡m̡̝ͅ,̙͚̜̲̦́ ̪͍͝e̱̻aś̬͙̦̪̙̪̻i̺̣͈͇͖̹̻ly,̝͡ ͖̝̩͚͍͝u̩͢s̼̣̼͍̞̠͞i҉̱n̤̭̲͔̘̳g̢̦͙ ̳̞̬t̶̰͍h͍̼̞̦̤̬e̯͠m̯͖̭̖ ̮͍̲̱i̴͈͈̰͔͙n̫͉͚̗ ̵̬̦̗̯͙̞su͙ch͍̬̻ ͠a̦̭ ̻͖̟f͈̬͍̝̫̹a̝͉͙͖s̠h̨͍í͕̱̤̝o̳͓͍̲̠̟͝n͕͎̜̺̻ ̦͍̥̲͜w̴a͖̮͚͕͉̹ͅs͝ ̟͇͙̟͟s̼̤͇i҉͈mp̬l̟̙͖̻̩̞e̢̮̮͚.̻̘̕ ̵̜͕͖͖̬̖H̝ẹ̱̬ w̗̦̠a̜̟s̮̮̻̦͖̯ ̩̞̘c̗̱̗͜o̺n̳̤͓͉͈̲ͅs̝͈͖̺̩̮ͅt̳̻̩͇̥̜̮a̸̝͙̭͕̰n̤̦t͚̰̟̥l̶y̮̣̼͉̮̯̻ ̮̗h̹̺͎̬a̻ṿ̡̘̘͎i̱͉͚͓n͇̳̖͠g̝̠ ̨̹̰ͅt̜ǫ͚̝̖̺̫ ̦̳͖̻̝͘m̭̲̟̮ͅo̶̯̪͇̣̯̲ͅve̫̟ ̼̬̤͍ͅo̫̼̦̱n̘̰̝ͅ ͙̙̳̙͉̣ś͕̪͔̝͖͙̥ì̜̞̭̭͕͖n͈͇̰̮̪̙͠c̢͈͕e̥̣̜̗̮̻ ̼̦t̤̗̰̫̪͢h̜̦̗̻̩͉̰͟ey̬͍̘͡ ̫͓̫͝ͅd̟̝̳͇͟i͈̳͈d̥̞̳̞n̜͓̘'̣̝̕ṱ̵̻̮̟ ̖̯̦̫̝͉̬h̥̻a̬̳͙͉͚̗̜͜v̥̖̼͉̞̫͇ę̣ ̢̘t̮̪̪͉̺͈ͅh͏̬̟̺̣͓̻e ̖͠re̴͉̞̦s̮e̛rv̼̣͍o̦͙͓̗͖͈̗i̷r͚̰̗̹s̝͕͉̭ ̱̤̖̼̯͕d̟̫̟̲̹̺̬e̠̹̲͕̼͉t̡̯̹̝̳̦̪a̧̼̘̺̮̙c̭̣̩̠̦̞̭h͈̬͇̘͙ȩ̞͔̰̫̯͇͈d̵̬̯̩̘̣ ̯̮śͅh̖̙̮̥̰̕ar̷̩̼d̗̠̞̩͙͚̺͡s͕̞͞ ̹̲̜̳n͚̬͍̙̥͎͕o̦͎r̬m̼̜̞̹̺̀a̷̲͉l͢l̥͘y̫̮̭̫͓̫̩ ͚̼͘w̲̭̕e̳͉̜̜̟͕̗͟ṛ̳͎͔è͉͕̬͓͈ ̘̯̟̥a̞̼̟l̖̟̮͟l̵̲̦ò͙͖̹̮̫ͅt̛̼͖t̮e̞͍̝̻̻͍d͙̼̝͜,́ ̶͚̬͓̻͖̰̪b̸̟̹̟̯̗̟u͓͎r̗͙̻͓̰̲ṋ̲́i̵̝̮̩n̢̝̫̬͕̪g ͍͇̭͡ṯ̘̭̤he̫̣̱̩̮̕m͇̱͔̱͚̠̹ ͎̗o̙̠̼͇u͖̦t̗̟͇̝͙͈̮ ̩̠̠t̯̲͞ͅơ̺̥͉͓̝͈̗ ̢̯̺͇͍̺t͚h̹͎̝ͅe̵̹̮̻ ̻̱͉p̢o͈̗̤i̝̦͔̭̣͞n̮͇̫t̖̬͡ ̷̘̝̫͈̳̳t̡͇͓̱̱̰͎̗h͍͉͉͚͝e̺̠̖͉̮̙y̪̼̹̜͔ ̠̠̪̟̩̜̺h̼̭͚̺̝͔a̴̫d̥̣̱ ̴͈̻̣̟͇̗͎t̺̙̩̫̺̼o͚ ͇̻͍̻̫͚͟ͅd̵͎̬̫͇i͕̦͚̮̭s̡͎e̮̖̹n̡͔̗̟͉̺̪g̫͚͈͖̬̜͞a͏͓͈͓͕ͅg̡̖̲e̳ ͈̗̫̱t̯̲͓̮̮̼͍o̷͖̥ ̥͇̱̝̀r͚̦̥̟͖͡e̢ͅf̦̻i̶̹l̢̳̬͚ḽ̫̞̰͔,̮̭ ̙̮̺̠̤̘̭t͈h̸͚o̺͈̻̱̗̘̹s̨͓͚̬̠͖̱̲e̟̬̣̗̣̕ ͎̦̼̞̳tḫ̗̥̹a̵̰͇̭̣͓ͅt ̰͉̙̹͙̀w̜̟e̹̟̹͙͖̫͚ŕ̹e̢͍̫͇̱ ̣̜͕̦͎͙ͅn̥͎̼͍̘o͓̺͕̥̫t̥ ̱͍͓͕͠b͓͍͔̜͈u͇͔̘r͡n̪̳̼̙t̫̩̹̫̦̝͙ ̘̙͈̣͔͡o̹͈u̬͉̳̥̠ͅt̕ c͔͖̖̮̳̙o͇̟̝̟͚ͅm̥̮p҉̥̮̬le̢̱͔t́e̶͔̣l҉̲̠̦y̴͖.̰̹̯
W̛̼̙̯͢͞i̧͎̼t̛̖͙̪͞h̝̗͘͘ ҉͍̹̲̙̬͔a̵͉̕ ͏̦͎̹̲̟̜͟Ć̡̥̙̥̼̪͕̼͝ò̸̼̖̤̩̫̥͎͇r̸̖̰̬e̸҉̱̥͕ ̹͈͉̟͖̖̞̜S̸͍̹̜̖̥͕̤h̩̞̮̳a̵̢̗͈r̡̟̮̫̖̼d̩͔̤̦̻͇̥ ̵̶̹̟͍l̻̱̜͓̩i̛͏̼̝̫̯̪̮k̬͞e͓̟̣͚͘ ̷̧̻̫̭͔͟t̹̞̱͉̱̤̯h̢̙̟̙̩̙̱͕i͓̤͖̫̖͈̜͜s̜,̸̣̺͉̲̯̣ ̵̴͈̘̺̞̜͡i̶̡̭̰t̛͓̱̺̯̥̱̱̕ ҉͇̪͈̥͈̹͢w͇͎̤͢a̧͇̤̺̭̘̳͟s̨̙̯͟͠ ̶̷̣̙̺͕̺̞̲̦ͅn͙̺̮͞ò̡̟̞̭̠̦̖ͅ ̖̜͉̹̤̮͍̺͝͠w͎͓͖̤̮͇̖ờ̸͓̟̗̝̭̻n̬͇͚̜̩d̦̻̹̼̼̭̥͙͢e̱̞̦̜̮̙̕͠r̶̨̙̮̖̠̼͉̞̼ ҉̖̳̠̬t̡̥͓̞̗̟̦̝̬͎̕h͖̠̰͖a̻̣̱t҉̤͚̗̼̹ ҉̯͙͠U͇̮̬͍̦̭̘̮͘͘s̜̦̗̰̦̫e͙͚̯͔̗͎r̹͎͉̬͚̱͘͝/̨̘̣͔͕͡ͅͅH̞̯̺̹̱͘o͚̜͔̖̮͚̹͠s̝̱͓̝͕͚̕͠ṯ̶͔͇͎̲͕͚̼̀ ͓͎͕̫̘̝͕̭͜h͇a̢̨̘͈̱̠̣͕d҉͎̟̜̪͖͕͎ ͚a҉͏̱͎̲̜̳͍͜p̨̤̣͝p̸̝̥͓͓͍̙è̗̯̦̭̪̬͍͔͢͟a̯̟͍͉͝ͅr͉̺͈̦̫̦̕͠e̸͖̙̱̩͢d̡̻̬͇̱̘̱̖͈̱͠ ͝͏̹̣͉̖̹͈s̺͖̣o̡̡͎̫̭̝̬ ͈̮̟͚͔̜̫͚̮͢p̢͇͙͟͢o҉͉͖̟̹̪̘̲̰̟w̰̣̠͡è̫̫r̢̢͙͖͚͖̦͈ͅf̧̢̪̞͓ự̪̻̘̹͖͍͎͢͜l̘̜̹͜͞͠,͙͖̤͎̟̙̼͢͠ ̷̙̣̦̱͎ḏ̵̸̥̹̪͍͔͙̙͍e̩̘̟̖͚s͏͏͔͖͚̮̖͉͙ͅp̘̦̩͘͡i̴̭͉t̵̡͔̟̮̖̯͜e̸҉̫̲̳͞,̣͓̗̟̜̲͓͈͘͝ ҉̡̜͖͚i͕̰̰̝̫͎̟ͅr̢͔̰̀o̧͝͏͖͚n̸̯̮̙͍͟i̧̧̘͍̯͖c̡̱̳͟a͙̬̮l̹̘̗͙̹̪͓ḽ̰͈̀͘͞y͕̰͜ͅ,̷͕̲̦ ͙̙̝̥̬͘͟b̨͙̩͘͟e҉͘͏̥̹̟͈i͔ṇ̵̳̩g̢̺̬̱̻͢͜ ͙͇a̖̙b̸̛̭̗̰ó̤͍̦̳͉͚̟͖u̶̖͈̺̮̮͝t̺̲͟ ̖̭a̶̱͈̟̼͖s̷͕̝̳̦̪͢ ̵̢̭̥̦̖̰c̵͈͉̞̞̤̼͟͠r̙͓̮͖͚̳̹͟e̸̱̙̣͎͙͙̝͉a̷̫̲͡t̶̗̪̹͜i̶҉̮v͈͜e͢҉͔̦̗͖̲ ̢̟̦́a͏̭̖̱̯̙̜̝͡s̮͎͢ͅ ҉̪̙͢t̰̬͙͕̖̝͓̤h̴҉͔̬̭͉̘̻e̼̬͔͢͞ ̶͍̪̣͔͇̲Ę̵̴͇͚̘͈ņ̷̵̭̥t̡̜̻͕͇̕͞i̧̬̼t̴̤̭͕̙̪̲͕ͅy̴͕͈̠̻̭ ̡͙͎͚͠h̴̸͏̤ḙ̛̮͢ ̛̛̹̞̥͍w̯̘͓̖͍̦̥͘ì̛̻͉͔̼s͈̗̳̳̟̦͚̦ͅh̴̪̯̫̪͚͈͕͟e̢͙̗͍͍̘͡d̢̘̘̞͎ ̥͉̰̱͇͝ͅͅt̮̯̟o̱͇̤̺̙͕̗̗ ̕҉͚͍̯͇̜̮̬̫͜k̸̗͈̫͚̻͘i̡͖͞ḽ͖̯̀l̜.̨̜͓̤́ ̸̺̫͎͇̰͍̮͞ͅI̶̜͙͕̙͘ͅt̸͖̳͔̮͎͔͞ ̢̙̪̣̳̮̪͚̤̩l̨̙̩͠á͎̙̱͚̫̥̠͕͉̕͠t̸̝̳̠̰̮̘͕͡c͏̨͔̭̀h̗̩̺̼̫͉̀͠ę͓̞̳ḑ̴̧̼̱͇̝ ̧͕̹̞̗͞o̗͖̠̞̰͕͜͞n̘͉͉̭̼̣͡͞ţ̷͙̘̼̟̖͜ọ̞ ̷͇̲͓̕͟ͅḶ͇̥̀͘e̡̻͖͖̗̥̠͙̠͞͠e̫̞͖̭̣̬̞͜͞'̲̙̘͖́͜͞s̙̥̭̗̺̦ ̵̹͙̬̞͔̟ṕ̜̙̟̝ó̢̙͇̗̗̺͓͜ẃ̧̙͍͕͖̲̫̭̰ͅȩ҉̫̠͜r̵̵͓̗̘̼ͅ,̴̲͙͝ ̱͓͓̗̹̣̥͙͝l̘͇̟͇̝̹̞į̞̬͍̯̠͡͡k̝̬͉̹̭̮e҉̤̺̝̝ ͏̸̙͇͕ą͉͎̲̕͜ ̥̰͇͓͇͔̜̤ͅm̡̩̰a̶̩̩̣͇̺̦̟̳n̳͇̠͕̙̕͡ ͎̭d́҉̝̭͇̣͇͘y̧̦͙͉̮͘͠i͕̲̗̩̺̥̻̦͖͟n̜͉̩̖̗͜g̜͟͞ ̢̫̺̘̠ơ̗̮̝̘̕ͅf̦̟̖̬̝ ͏͓͡t̶͞͏̪̩̪h̨̼͈̦̩͈̀i̠̘̺̺̩r̸̴҉̜̳̻̹͉̟̰̗s͏̜̝̫͇̘̙̥̤̠ţ̘̫̗̲̪̫͚ ̤̱̀f̷͖̱̻͙̣͎i͕͞n̨̙̤͍̪͜d͓͚̼͘͜i͈̩͖͓͎͍͢ņ͖̩̻͙̬̞͜g̪̟͓̺̼͓͝ ̝̤͎̜͚͈͢ͅa͏̗̲͖n̷̝͙̣͉̣̟̥ ͏̗o̭͎a̵̜͚̟ş̯̝̳̯̙̞̺̬̘i̼̲̟̱̘͡s̛̻̺̙͙͖̱͇̺,̖͈͉̝̩̫ ̳̜̠͈̟̩̝̞͉̀b̶̨̖u͕̳̳͔̣̰̬͇͎͢t̟͠ ̛̘̖͚͚̯̥̕t̶̴͎̭h̻̬e̢͚̼͖̪͡r̨͔̣̻̞̪̩̮̺͢e̳͍͇̩͕̫͘ ̵̗͕ͅw͓͕̱͝a̮̫͡͠s̙͉ ̨͉͇̦͕̖̮͉̣͈͠á͓̟̱̬͚͇̟͕͡ ̠̭̤̖̤͉͔̗̫́͟͟ḓ̠̳̤̖͇̠̪̕͢a̡̜̬̤̦̣̖̲͇̕̕ń̷̜͈͙͓͇̫̬͘g̴̯̳̦̰̮͘è̛͙͔̹͓͟r̠̻̤̮̥͞ ̶̻̭͍̣̳͇̘͎͟t̷̨͈h̡͎̤͘͡e̙r̼͙͚̤ę̦̦̯̤̭͞͠ ̛͉̜̜̮̳͖̰̜ḁ̶͈̬̺͚̥͞s͕̹̪ ̧̯͍̙̤̗̠͝͠w҉̼̟è͇l͎̠͕͡͞l͏͚̻͖͓̹͖͚̭͙.̧̡̪̙̳͉͞ ̴̱̱͕I̧̪͎͕͎͓̻̺̯n͔͔̪̯̼͉̜ ͝҉͕̪i̡̲̞̳͓͔̫̻t̛̥̞͢s҉̡̳͔͉͈̮͎͢ ̤̘̟̗̱͈͢ͅa̙̗̖̻̱͠t͈̫̙͇̫̠͚͢t̶̥̝̟̩͖͍̱́͞e͖m̤͟͝p̢̝͎̹͖͍̱͈̮t̶̹̲̕s̘̺͔̗͠ ̧̝̞t̵̝͞o̷̧͈͈̥̪͜ͅ ̣̩̬̬̫̱̪̝͝ḑ̬̹͇̮̪̰͢ͅr̬̺̗̤̗i̵̩͕͙̪͕̟͜n̵̖͕͚ͅk̪̩̀ ͈͕̺͚̪͇͝t̨̤̻͉̟͢h̞̻̞͡e̪̝̝̪͜ ̛͔̦͕͘o̶͉̙͙͓ͅa̴̧̧̙̟̜̮͎̳̜s̥̪̗͇͚̞̫͘i̝̟̖͎̹͢͡s̭̀,̨̖̤̬̱̯ ̯̭̘͎̮̙̀í̢̧͔̩t̘̤͡ ̨͇̻͍̤͔̖̞̳͓m̷͎̮̥̙ͅa̟̣̪͟͝y̛̬̤͈̯͇͉͟ ̲̩̜v̢̥͘ę̼̠̭̥̻͘ŗ̯̜̠̗̲ỳ̩̳̞͞ ̸͇͇̦̣̥̝͙͞w̛̥͙̲̖ę̻̼͙͕͘l̮̲l̨̝̀ ̸̺̥̜͈̳͈͉͟͝ḵ̬̦̭͜͞i͉l͖͕̩̮͘l̷̢̜̰̭̤̦͙̹̘ ̧͙͖͙̤͔̗̳̩̖i̡̛̱̲̹ͅͅt͏̘̦s̷̛̰̺͍̖̻͘é͓̪̭̙̣̖͘ͅl̛͏̭f̴̺̬́,̵̭̘̺̼̺͈̣̺͝ ̞͚͉ͅa̺͈n̶̴͎͇͝d̕҉͚̠͍͔̜ ̢͓͇̫̯̯͓̯̰͘t̥̜̤̱̀h̡̯͈͉̘͝á̢͇ṯ̡̬̜̗̪̭͔͡ ҉̴̞w̛҉̱̖̮̦́ͅơ̡͇̻̩͔̙̞͘ù̸̡̙̥̼ļ̘̹d̶̢͍͈͎̼͔̦͠ ̶̵͈̲͉̼̪̫ͅn͏̨͎̝̩͚̪̫̩o̲̰̹͜t̵̪̰͙ ̧̣̝̜͎̹͝ḇ̺͙̱͚̮̘̭̀ͅe̢̜̠͙ͅ ̳̟͔̜̬͠a̧͇̹̪͉͇͓̪ͅl̗̖̩͕̺̬͎͘l̷̪̗̪o̧̻͓̟͕̥w̛̪̪e̸̦͙̕d̴̪̝͇̫͇͇̰.̵̦̞͙͓͖͘ͅ
K̡̖̗̗̗͉̲̼͎̝̀͜͝ͅn̸͟҉͈̫̞͙̼̱͙̥̙͓̦̜͎̝o̪͚̺̱̠͖̫̤̣̖̬̥̫̬̗͟͠w̴̧͏̷̟̠̱̖͕̞͍̟͟ͅį̕͏̰͖͙̥̙̝̪ͅn̵̶̨̧̥̮͖̠͚̺̗̖̤̯̬̖̫̖͇͢g̢̙͍͈̩̥͖͈̪̠̻̠̝̻̹͘͠ ̵̨̨̣̭͕̹̙̲̼̭͉̥̖͍͇͓̘̯̻̕ͅw̩̲̫̰̠̝̪̳͙̣̟͘͟͟ͅh̨̭͉̬̣̫̻͔̦̼̞̗̤͕̦̹͠ą̸̷͖̺̰͈̤͓̻́t̛͚̮̘̞̟̝̯̻̮̠͚͙̱̩̤͟ ̷̤̤̝͔̹̥͚̠͍͔̞͔̫̮̤̯͘͝͞͝t̷̶̯̰̩̙̀͘͡ͅo̧̲̤͙̙̣̹̹̱̕ ̧̘͖̣̯̻͉̲̰̥̞͇̀͡͞d̴̨̟̳̞̹͇̦͕͘͡͝ͅơ̡̦̬̻̣̱̙̻̜̬̻̙̭̻̜̲̲͙͟͠ͅ,̸̥͙̫̜̰̺͔̦͓̘̞͈͉̻̭̥̯͠͠ ̳͈͚͓̫́t͏͠͠҉͈̤̙̙͈͕̲͍͚̯̱͈͡h͟҉̷̱̯͇͖̳̳̭̣̗͜e̶̶̷̬͈̹̯̜͙̞̲̯̙͙̬̩̹̼͚͢ͅ ̸̨͓̠͍͈͔͈͇̲̗̬̰̖̪̯̭B̷̞̥̣͖͚̯̖̝̜̗͎͕͠͡e͏̨̦̫̪̖̟̗̤̪̼͈͓͠i̷̴̗̻̲̻͚̘̫̹͍n̕͏͟͏͚͍̜͎͚̗̯̣g҉͏̸̡̭͙͈͚̮̺͚̯͉̣̠̠̦̭̫͓̞͟ͅ ̸̨̛̮̬̘̫͈͔̪̹̟̘͕̀̕ͅͅt̵͚̯̰̼͇͈̰̘̕͘͢ḩ̷̜̮̱̮̗͍̲̳͈̫̗̭͎̲͙̻͢͝ͅͅa̶̺̬̦̞̲̥͎̜̣̫̟̭̻̞̼̰̱͘͠ͅͅt̶̶̴͙͎̰̣̜̞͔̩̟̻̪̞̺̣̯ͅ ̯͉͎̺̗̥͓͠͞w̵̶̡̻͚̤͙͙͔̮̕͡a̵̡͔̹̱̱͎̰͎͎s̛̪̫̳͓͙͕͖̹̯̠̹̗͔̜̣͞ͅ ̸̱̘͓́L̵̹̜̦̼̪̖͓̙̯̗͖͎͖̥̹̦̩̺͘͘̕͡e̵̡̡̛͔͚͕͇̙̖̯̝͉̼͖̜̩̲͙͕̣̩ͅè̴̸̠̗͈̤̱̤̤̬͇ ̵̧̹̬̗̦̰̣̰̙͕̙̖́͘ͅí̴͜҉̷͍̟͖̬͖͔͚̻̭͕͔̯̖̙ͅń̩͓͉͇̱̳̳̬͜͡ ̸̸̩̼̫͇̣̠̳̯̀͝t̢̨͟͡҉̱̫̖̱̮̳͔̹̘̯͚̻̩̳h̷̲͎̗̪͡ę̱̭͖̫̞̲̞͙̲̦͎́̀ ͏̢̛̩̠͕̬̫̤̞̟͙̫̣̙̟͙̺͎͜G͚̘̼͖̺̳̻̫̩̳̬̠̹̙̝͘͜ͅu҉̴̷̢̖̝͖̝̝̮͙í̴͚̮̗͈͍̦̫̩̜̙̜͍͜s̸̵̡̛̗̲̰̱̟̦̩̘͍͇̰̤͢ȩ̴̼̳̜̫̺̪̠́͠ ̷̴͝͡҉̻̘̟ó̧̻͇̳̥͖̭͉̝͇͎̙͘f̷̧̬̼͚͖͚̗̘̖͙̤̻̩͕͓͕͉̠͜ͅ ҉̧̯̳͈̺̤̱̪̟̼͓͍̟̩̦̤̕ͅV̶̢̢̞̟̩e̵̴̛͉̞̳̺̮͇͡͠j̴̛͉̰̞͎̪̯͍͔͖̗͕̺͓̰͍͙̕͢ͅͅǫ̖̝̖̺͓̗͢͝v͢҉̵̭̘͙̞̬͙͕̣̦͕̞̼̬̜͔͚͘ͅi̸̡̙̳̯̠̳̬̰̖͎̗̙͔̝̞̳̱͕͘s̨̨̹̪̙̯̣͖͍̩̳̟͍̺̪̪̩ ̵̶̴̶͇̣̱̻̺d̶̷̝͉̠̪̞̻į̵̨̙̞͖̫̣̩̹̯̼̣̰͔͎̗̀s̨̲̠̣̬̪͚̺̥͖̫̰̣̦̝e҉̡͈̺̼͓̟̼̘͍̖͖̜̪̫̜͉͉̗́͝ͅṉ̨̨̮͉̳͎̤̩̲̬̩̬g̶͏͎̲̞̱̪ą̸̠̜̬̫̥̤̘̱̹͚͖̩̣̣̳̣̬̕͝g̶̡͠҉͔͈̺͎͖̞̼̮͎͈͢e͏̵̡̛͏̮͔̳̺̪͚̻̤̯̞̠͚̭̳̹ͅd̫̲̫͖̬̱͘͟͞͡,̴̨̝͎̥͔̺̞͉͇͎̳̺̖̪̞͟͢ ̶̧̟͉̭̙͚g͉̼̼̙̮͖̯̱͖̫͈͉̫͘͘͠ȩ̵͏̷̞̲̥̫̮̪̙̱͇̪͞n̸͏̡͓͙̬͇͈̪͎̺̯t͜͜͜͠҉̯͕͔͉̮͓l̕҉͏͈̳͖̠͉͚͕̗̣͍͔͙y̧̩̠̣̳̜̭̕,̴̨̨̢̢̙͓̞̲̲̬̱̘̯̱̬̣̤͚͉̼ ̛̣̰̼̱̝̘͔̼̘̘̳͎̜̳͘ṱ̢̟̤͉̤̻͙͖͎̳̕͞ͅh̶̨̡̜̺̣̮̭̮̰͓̭̜̤̤̥̙é̛̝͉̺͈̞̳̪͢͢ ҉͙͓̯̫̦͍̫̰͓͔͇͙͉̥͙ṕ̡͇̦̠̺͎̪̝͇̩̺̹̜͢ͅe̶̬̬̼͈͇̲͈r̶̴̨̪̮̼̗͎̠͎̕͞s̡̀҉̰͇̳͈̦̣͙̯̩͉̗̣͝ǫ̷̧̪̮̥̜̙̰̖͕̗͚̠̦̜͚̙̹̟͘͠ͅn҉̛̮̫̣̟̞̖͉̬̦͙̺͎̲̝͈́͜a͇͚̥̘͝l̛̦̥͈͕̣̤̣̫̩̞̥̣͟ ̢̤̪̰͙̠͍͉͞a̶̡̛̞͈͚͇̹ļ̡͇͔͔̥̠̹͉̼̟͚̤̞̣̥̮͙̝͟͡͞ͅͅl̶̵͍͎͎̱̱͍̪̭͚̼̳̟͙̗̺̯̙͜ͅǫ͕̯̦̖̻̤̝͉̠͕̦́t̡҉̸̫̥̻̰̜̟̯͚̥̹̺̫͢ṃ̷̧̨̟̥͎̻̮̤̰̥͓̗ẹ̸̦̥͎̥̱̳̤̱̖̯̺͚͝ͅn҉̲͈͉̬̰͖͢ͅṱ̨̘̘̩̘̬͈͞ ̧̢͙̟̦͙̬̩̲͍̺̥̠̺̟͎̜̪̻͘̕ͅo̢͜͏̳͚̟̪͍̀f̢̮̖̻͟ ̸̴̨͕͚̤͎̻̲̘̜̳̪̤̀͡e̡҉̧̻͍̥̥̙̙͍͔̙͔n҉̳͍̺̻͍̹̩́̀͢͡ę͕̞̰̰͓͜ŕ̷͈̱̲͇̻̻̫̩̝͕͕̟̪̬̖̞͢͝g̴̛̲̭͚͕̗y̫̪̭̝̗̱̝̬̱̕̕͢ ̸̸̡͓̲͕̹̤͙͕͎̲̬̱̩̕͝ͅį̷҉͉͍̰̮̙̜̟͉͇̬̀ͅͅt̶͈̜͎͕͘͝͞͠ ̷̶̷̼̳̫̰h͝҉̝̖̼ͅa̷̗͔̦̹̗̤̪̥̳̪̣͙͟ḑ̩̱̰̺͓̙͕̫̰͘ ̵̛̤̦̘͉̀b̵̮̰̻̪̼̬̯̮̩͉̠͈̼̬͟͡ͅe̷҉͕̣̪͕̰͙e̵̼̥̱̺̫͠ͅǹ̷̡͙̘̟̗̳̮͚̯̮̰̦̠̮̣̬̘̦͘͞ ̵̵̵̬̝̺͇̺̘̖̥̤̘̲͚͔e̴̡̡͚͇̣̩̱̮͈̦̗̮̼͇͉̳̭̯̞̘͘x̵̧̳̫̮̤̱̬͖̫̥̜̪͚̲̫̪̝͠p̀͜͡͠͏͈̗͍͓̹̼͙̺̭ͅȩ̵͎͇̠̣̭̳̥͕̲̣͙̯̥̀̀n͏҉̸̛̰̤͉͔̹̙͇̫̹̯̯͝d̵̢̳͍̱̭͚̟̦̳̳͈͎͓̥͓̥̦ͅi̶̵҉̤͇̗̗͍̝̩͓̭ͅn̩̻̖͇͟ǵ̛͎̺͙̪͞ ̧̨͕̤̼̮̪̰̲̰̬͉̘̬̪͍̤͜t͞͏̙̮͓̪̕ͅo̷̱̺̞̠͓̭̰͘ ̨̬̺̮̝̰͕͚͎̖̥͖̳̬̯͕̬́͝͡c͜҉̖͇̫͉̘͓̬̞̮̫̝̳̹̦͍o̢͟͡͏̳̦͖̜̱͙̲͈̩͖͖͈̠̤͚͇̝͘n̵̵̶̻͙̫͕͉͈͎̫͓͙͉̤̗̱̯͎̙͕t̨̳̯̟̞͙̯͙͕̜̯͙́̀͟í̴̡̢͈̻̥̞̖̠̙̭̙̭̝̞̬͕͔͢ͅn̸͎̞̹̼͙̞̰̟̗̳̬̫̙̖͙̪̲͚u͢͏̬͎͙̹̜̤͕̼̫̮̲̫̳̹̻̠͈͓ͅe̵̱͚̫͍̭̜̪͔̜̰͓͚͎ͅ ̸̴̫̮͇͉̺̜͖̱͝͝t͟͏̤͕̟͍̥̣̫̮̲̖͇̜̙̗̮̜͠h҉҉̵̜͖̮̩̭̦̯̫̳͡ͅe̕͏̼͎̘̤̗̗̪̬̞̮͍͙̻̗ͅ ̡̛͞͏̻̬̖̞ͅp҉͈̖̖̳̦̻̖̯̼̲͓͜͡͡͝ͅr͉̖̰͈̖͈̥̖̣̫̩̭̜̯̬̪͜͞ͅo͉̠̻̤̭̱̰̙̘̭͍̲͢c̶͏̶̫̤̠̝͙̰͖͍̠̣̳̖ȩ̫̪͉͍̀͜s̢̢̧̩̥̥̯̼̦̦s҉́͢͠͏͍͕̲͎͔̹̝̻̟͖͉̝̖̺ ̴̧̦͈̟͉̞̖̰͖̼̞̱̪͙̲͉͘͠ǹ̨̜̺͉̮͇̘͙͞͞ḛ̡͙̣̲͔̱̱̲̦͓̺͈̠̖̗̯̝̕ͅa̢̗͖͈̳͓͍̪̜̟̯͚̘̮͘͢͝r̶͝͏̗̭̜͎̺l҉̧͖͈̲̣̱͇͔̭̱̭̳̤͎̭ỳ̢̮̜̹̭̜ ̗͇̹̱̲͓̖̩͇̪̼͔̯̙̕͢͢r̷͙͖̞̩̦͙͓̗̠͔̫̝̭͇͕͘e̷̢̟͓̖̼̤͎̭͙͎̘̜̥̤̳͉͈s̵͇̗̫̱̲͚̩̖͔͍̲͎̰̘̞̹̥̞͠͞ͅt̴͎̖̟̻̦͖͔̼̩̱̹̰͍̯̩͘ͅo̕͠͏̫̘̩̖̭̠̦̼̗̫͙̫͚̥̺̠̫̟r̕҉̜͇̤̼̺͔̻ȩ̧̛̦̳̲̱̖̘͚̥͇̥͔̼̼̻͉́͘ͅd̖͔̜͈̘͖̗͇̦̤̕̕ͅ ͔͇̩̳̮̠̯̀́͞a̵͕͉̙̦͙͎̼̻̯͖̗̘̱͕͘͢͢ͅl̡͟҉̣̻̙͇̺̦r̷̵̝̬͖͖͖̕͜͠e҉̴̱͈͖͍̦̬̼̰̺̕̕͞a̸҉̗̠̖̼͓̥͔̤̥ͅd̵̢̢̛̪̤͚͚̯̺͎̤͉̖͍͓̹̪͍͉̜͟y̷̵͓͍̠͇̜͓͇̩̱̞̹̞̕͠.̦͇͔̰͔̩̪̩̼͓̦̘̜͍̼͘͟͡ ͙̯̤̬͚̭͉̘͔͎̤͖̀͜͠Í̫̲͚͚̲͠t̡̮͉̙͇̥́͠͡ ̸̡͓̝̱͖̮̟̀͘ͅẃ̴̗̜̪̩͕̞̲͉̞͙̣̯͎͢͞͠ą̴̵̡̫͇̣͉͓̤͓̝̘̱̝̤̪̮̯͉͘s̴̵̡̢̗͓̦̭̯̰̯̮̹̲̰͇̻͚̞͍͕͟ ̷̛̘͓̳̥̟̲͔͕̳̭̙̺̗̟̭̖̣̥͜ą̼͈̞͍͎̣̬͕̭̙̼̗̹̭̳̖̜͜ ̨͘͟͝͏͓̣͇̗̞̤f̸̪͉͔̣̝̫̘͕͔̼̬̻͉̜̫͇̜͟͡ͅa҉̸͈̱̥͔̣̞̤į̲̝̞̯̣̰͓̱͓̀͟͠ŗ̴̗̣̳͙͔̪̯̮̤͇̖̞̱͉̰͓͚̣͙͡ ̡̢̛̜̝̠̫̰̰̹͡͡ṱ̸̣͎̦̳̪̫̠̼̤̹̟̯͈̙̝͚̼̥́͝r̴͖͖̣̦̰̼̕ą̢̮͍̬͖̫͇͈͕͝ḑ̷̷̱̝̙̥͕͇͔̜̖̰̬̮̫̮͉̳͙͞͞ͅe͟҉̴̸̰̻̳̙̖̝̟͚͚͡ ̧͝͏͍̜͍̟̮̯̟̟̼̜̱̥̬̠̦̝̤̲ţ̛̝̜̮͉̱̗̙̝̝̤̝̝͓̲̲̲̰̀͜͞ͅo̴̻͓̥̻̱̹͠ ̸̤͚̘̳͉̼̺̻̳̣̮̤̝̣̤̖̩͘̕͜͟ͅͅt̛͈͍͎̯̞̫̤͎͔̱͙̯̫͢͡h̺̟̥̭̺̀͞e҉̸̷̮͙̣̤̪̠̝̣̤͍̖̖̺͓͢ͅ ̮̪̜̫̫͞Ś͕̳̫̝͓̗͕̝̻̩̝͟ͅh̛̛͖̹͍͕͔̻̮̙̤͓̼͡a̗̗̯̺̫̗͙̟̭̝̥͈͟͟r̵̖̩̘̦̱̝̥̗̻̣͔̰̖̜̜͓d̢̛̪̰͖͇͉̮̫̗̻̯̖̹̤̩̠͡͝ͅͅͅ ̸̡̯̺̗̜̩̘̬̞̜͕̖͎͘͠ơ͓̫̝̘͍̭̼̯̟̗̹̟̬̳̹͡f̴̛̫̪̩͇̳̮̠̀͘ͅ ̨͕̻̠̝̘̱̫͚͍̙̹̞̞͢͡I͔̻̲̝͈͕̫͎͇͘͢͡n̶͢҉̙̣̼͕̳̩̪̟̬̰̰̺̤͚̞̙͎t҉̠̤̺̗̬̤͚́́͡͠e̵̜̱̰͙͈̲̱̺̻̤̜̣͍̦͈̪͇̲r̸̛҉͍̺̪̦̮̙͍̰͖̤͔͖̤̻f̜̰͙̖̹̠͜͝a̸̡̬͔͎͓̦̮͕͙̣̝̼͓̗̠̲̦͜ͅc̵̴͉͔͚̼̬̖͇͚͚̹̘̹̗͙̙̝͘͜͡e̶̶̛̞̘̦͉̲͓̮̭̱̰̻̻̱̱̻̟͉ͅ,̱̗̹̺͇̫̜̼̀͠ ̴̧̲̳̱̗̬͙̦͇̩̲͉͠͝c̡̡͖͓̫̞͕͈̗̦̬̬͘o̡̕҉̼̻̘̠̺̲̬̟̱͜ͅp̸̸̙͇͍͔̼̦̀͘͞y̢̨̱͓̜͚̰̠̫̞͝ͅi̡̧͍͔͚͍̼n̶̺͈̯̟̤̯̻̙͚͚̩͎͚͇͕̙̗͍͞ͅg͍̳̰̤̞̥̯͕̰̝͕̟͍͘ ̨̀҉̶̺͚̳̥͇̜͔̗̬̻̺̰̳̭̰̹̞̰i̶̢͖̬̘̹̘̟̹̰̣̼̱͓̮̥͖̻̼̤͝t͏̛̜̲̣̝̞̦͓̻̠͚͇̜̞̳̻̙̲͈'̶͢҉̵̡̟̳̳̲̹̞͈͔̞s҉͓̺̤̻̺̫̹̖͇̜͝ ̢́҉̴͚̘̦͙̬ͅp͘͏̲̘̦̖̟͎͉̳̟̥͙̲̤̺̺̪̀͠͝ͅa̢҉͈̺̩̘̼̯̺̲̺̻̲͕͕̱̟͇͚͈͇͘͞t͎̣͇͖̟́͟͢t͘͜͏̧̮̦̰̟̬͎̳̟̪͔̭̝ͅe͏̪͔̣̼̗̥̯̞͕͎̬̞̦̺͘ŗ̵̵̧̠͈̹̫̼̱̘̭̳̥̦̬͘ͅņ͉̫̙̤͕̖̜̜͎̺͙̮̲̩͢͟ͅͅs͢͏͜҉̫̭̻̙͈̜͙͓̳̖̱̤̫͍͖ͅ ̢̛̱̼̣̣͜ͅḁ̶̣̮̭̬̝͈̹̰͍͖ń̷̶̺̩̥̲̤̻͍̯͜ͅd̡̘͚͈̘̯̬̫̰͈͟͢ ̸̧̼̠̝̝̙̘͕͖͔̤̲͔͙͔̖̰̫͍̀͜͞m̵̢̦̟̹̠̩̠̜̩̤̹̯͙̱̞̀̀͟e̵҉҉̨̭̳̟͚̻̭͍̩͇̥̺̞͇̯̤̙̙͟ͅt̶̥̻͍̯͉̫h̨̘̹͓̟̠͔̺̞́ớ̶̬̠͙̤͙̯̙͕͓̼̟̱̗̮̤͜d̴̴̻̲̩̹̫̥̣̩̱͕s̨̨̯̼̩̺̮̯̮̺͇͇̩̣̭ ̛̛̝̼͎͖̪̖̱̮̤̰̗f̸̯̩̼̫͍̭͓̱̮̤̰̘ọ̢̜̮͇̟̠̻̘͠͠r̶̥̪̭̳̻͎̲̣̰̱͡͞ ̶̨̛̘̥̣̘̻̯͍͈̘̲̟̫̮̦͚̲́͘Ĺ̖̟̟͓̗̠̻ͅͅe̴̶͖̝̬͔͓͕e҉̥͙̲͔̯̘̲̪̞͓͓͔͞'̢͏͇̼͙͇̯̰͖̳̟̯̪̲̲͚ͅs̶̸̨̧̘̤̻͓̹̭͍͚̩̀ ̷͎̬̫͇̞̱̩͖̟̯̰͈ͅó̢̞͇̠̭̝̩̲͚͟ͅw̛̪̲͕̗̤̬͉͈̩̕͟͞ņ͍̥̹̞̼͎̺͚̫͘͢ͅ,̵̴̧̥̟͓̰̤͕̯̝͝ ̴̵͇̩̙̣̭̪̙͖͈̤͇͖̘́͢͝ț̶̖̟͎͍͔̰̦̮͇̘͉́͠͠h̶̛҉̰̯̠̠͓̘̭̹̠̻̞͉͇̪̟͚̫ǫ̢͕̜̳̠̪͈͔͟͠͝u̷̶̡̲̙̘̗͍̱͟g̡̦͕͔̯̭̬̼̠̞̟̥̜͘͘h̛͞͏̷̢͙̘̞̖͙͔̥͙̞̞ ̷̶̷̡̪̗͕̹͇̝̭̜̙͘ḿ̴̨̧̝̺̱̝̖̳o̧͕͈̝̻̙͞ͅd̛̛͈͉̝i̸̭̻̰̫̠̫͙͚̝̭̻͝f̰̠͔͉̜̹̻̤͕̫̙͚͈̣͠͞͞ị̸̶̢̩̖̗̙̠̦͢͢e̡̻̩̪̬͉̳̟͞d̵̴̤̗̟͎͙͕̖̀́̕ ̷̶̻̻̹̲̕͢ͅt̴̜̭͎͘o̙̭̻̝̖̻̫͎̟̲̘̬̲͟͞͠ ͏̧҉͚̘̜͈͚̝͖͢b̨͚̼̠͔͕͇͉̟͇̱̫̜̬̫̘͢͜ͅè͏̨̱̻̥̟͍͙̹̫̙̗̱͠͡ͅt̢̯̪̫̹͙̳̱͇̝͎́͜͡t̡́͘͝҉͈͎̝̬̭̗̞̰͉͖̤͖̹͇̼ȩ̶̨̪̖͖̮̘̙͕̼͔̠̠̺̩̗̳̬͓̠̩́͟r͈̭̦̻̱͜ ̞͖̯̠̖͜͡f̴̷͟͏̸͖̱͇̙͓i̡͜҉͕̥̱̺͈̻̦̠͇͖̩̹͍̟̹̲́̀t̵̲̫̗̻͖̠͖͠ ̷̭͎̙̼̘̲̫̫͖̗̖̻̣̞̜̕͟͝͠h̠̲̹̣͕̼͍̹̘̜͔̺͍͎̮̬͉̰́͟ͅi͢͏̜͇̰͖͍̟̙͓͙̹̮̱̯̀͜͡ͅs̶̛̮͕̳̹̰̤͚̙͉̦̩̭̺̩͜ͅ ̨̻̱̳̼̕p̸̺̭̝͠͝ͅr̴̠̜̮̩̦̼̞̰̪̩͖͖̖̱̘̬̟͢͝͝͝ȩ̛͚̜͔̮̜̟̖̥͈̣̜͘͢-̶̷̳̠̙̻͓̺̯̥̝̻́̕ͅę̷̶͇͚̳̗͉͕̳̯͞x̵̵̭̹̻̤̹̣̟̰̱͕͖͓̤i̶̲̠̫̥͜͝s̴̨̨̨̬̣̻̜̠̠͉͍̰̯͔̕t̴̩̟͙̥̘̭͉̯̙̣̲̗̼̼̻̬͚ͅͅi̛͕̼̱͠n͉̯͙̤̘͈̣͢͜͝g̸̜͔̝͎̙̰͇̘̱̝̥̥͢͝ ̧̳͕̞̖͚̥̥͎́̀͞ş̱̮͈̼͇͖͉͉̤̗͚̦͡ͅt̛̟̭̼̫͙̣͉̮̮̲̲̙̭̬͘͠y̸̟͚̪̦̰̩̪̭̪̺̬̹̗̮͘̕͢ĺ͉̬̳̝̰̼̙̘͠é̶̷̤̫͖̳̦̙̣͝͡ͅ.̷̷̹͚̥̠͙̀ ̧̝̪͖̦̜̞͟͡ͅĮ̷̛̼̟̻̱̩͜͡t̶͇̭̲̩̰̘͇̹͈̬̰̳̥̘͠ ̸̢͕̳̖w̕҉҉̢̩͓̙̠̲̬̼̠͚̮̯̖̝̬͍̀a҉̝͚͍̰̬͕͕̯̤̭̞ͅs̸̨̲̣̘͚̣͈͢ ͏̛͔̘̣̞̺̖̠̞̫̖̪͉̫͡n̼͚̩͙͇͈͉̞̮̤͓̙̖̗̳̪̝͟ơ̸̧̞̞̭̰̦̖̳̭̣̞̦̘̕ͅt̵̵̢̘̹̲͕͙̦͇̤̟̙̘̪̘̯̙͍́ ̸̣̺̞̪͎̰̀̕͝ţ̼̼͓̟̮̲͓̫̪̼͙̹̬̯̥̟͇͡h̸̩͔̖̳̫̪̬̀͟ą̶̴̧̬͔̭̻͓̲̮̤͉͇͍̖͍͚͎̹̻͍͈͞t̵̡͍̝͇͔̗̭̹͎͖̖͘ ̡͕͔͉̱̬̺͇͎͚̠͈̗̰͓̥͕͘ͅd̢͉̗̦͓̪̖̟̠̺̱̪̼̼̺i͏̬̱̩̩̫̼̟̠̘̱͚̪̪̩͇͟f̶̧̮̫̩̼̲̖̺̥̺̝̱̤͕̀͘f҉͢͞͞҉̳͙͈̥̠̦̼͎̪̞̻̫̬̜̘͉̼í̢̛̯͈͙̠̹̱̝̩̖̱͈͙͈̀ͅc̛̼̺͓̪̦͍̘͇̩̫̰̥̹̮̗͈̙͓̠͜u̵̷̥̪̫͇̬̳̘̮̟̩̜͚͡l̵̴̜͚̮̭̙̬͜ͅt̡̼̞͙̞̘͓̹̻͚̖̼͞ͅ ͡͏̡̦̪͖̰̠̘̟̺̤̺͇͈͚̪̙͈͕͞ͅͅa̴̷̧̠̰̟͇͘n̷҉͇͇͎̪̫͔͚̜̞̣͕̱͈̪̣ḑ͎̻̝̗̥͈̱̀̕͢͠ ̳͓̙̱̘͔̟͚͇̥̀͢͟͝a̶̵̷̵҉͓̬̼̮̦͍̳̫̣̝̩̙̟̣͙͎̬̻l̵̡̨̛̯͚̭̥̥̱̼̘͔̥̭̹̰̝̦̭͚͠l̸̶͇͙̼̬̤̙̹͔̻̟̟̻̯̟̥̹̩̤̩ ͇̯̻̣̩͙̖̫͚̗͇̙̻̹̩̦̕͟ţ̞͍̦̮̦̻̞̦̹͈̥͘͜͝h̨͙͕͙̜͙̭͎̲̭̜̝̝̦͕̘̥͇͈̭a̸͢͢͟҉̘̻̟̹̠͎̹̱t̴͏̨͖̫̗̺̭̼͖͉̣̟͓ ̡͠҉̗̮͓̖̰̰̮͔̹̱ń͖̳̟̣̰̮̮̰̹̠͉̩̜͇̲͎̙̱̩͢͝ę̤͇̫̼͔͟è̘̩̝͙̼̥̯͔͈̙͓͔̦̜̳̕ḏ̴̼̦̫̘̭̟̭͔̥e̷̡͖̼͔̗̹̱͖̤̙͓̯̮̪͢d̷҉̶̶̧̲͔̭͕̰̫̭̼͓̙̹̰͖̞ ̵̛̝̟̖͉̻̝͖̻͈͈̟̣͎̠̖̪̬̤ͅţ̰̰̻̪̗̭͎̀͝o̶͏̡҉̪̺̝̪̱͈̦̰͙̳̳̳̞̜ ̷̨̲̯̻̫̻͍̦̱̲̣h̴̭̲̪̻͎͉̼̬̠̻͎̘͇̗̟̤̀͜a͏̢͕̦̩̟p̲̻̣͙̼̥͙̰̥̜̹͘͟͡p̜̬͖͈̹̫̦̞͖̦͈͕͈̺̞̩͎̩͘e̵̢̢̱͎̼͕͕̼̗̱̦͓̭̫̥̫̮͟n̴̴̶̡̮̬̙ ̵̵̭̬̬̀͠w̨̛̤̻̪͚̞͓̮̫̩̰̘̖̲͈ͅͅa̧̨͙̤̙̤͕͕͎͕̦͍̦̜̥͝͞͠s̵̨̘̟̝̻͕̦.͠҉̳̘̬̟̘̞͇̀͜ ̀҉̦̭̮͔̞͉̬̙.̢̛҉̧͙̞̦̦̰͓͎̜̳̭͟ ̨̡̞̬̹͖͙̗̞̭͉͓͚̫̯̜̭̯̖ͅͅ.̶̭̗̦͎̥̺̞̼̤̦̪̼͘̕͝͡ ҉͏͓̜̙̪̖̯ẁ̖̣̦̗̯̪̟̠̲̩̠́͜͝͠a҉̷̢͎͙̯͕̣͍i҉̟͇̠͓̰̦̬̺̪͇̫̠̟̼̘͕̠̠͔͢͜͠ţ̪͍͓̱̣̩̫̬̭̭͖͕͍͚̀͟͝͡,҉̛̘̱̘̣̟̯͓̪̀ͅ ̵̶̢̡̘͍͙͕͍̹̰̖͓̝͔͜w҉̶̠̩̟̟̤̬͇̹̹͘ḥ̶̡̢͉̜͙̗͈̞u̶҉̯̻͕̼͎̰̠̘́͡p͟͏̮̺̤̯̘͕̹̬͚s̴҉̟̭̹̲̜.̸҉̷̨̼̣̜̠̰̫̦̯̝̲͍̲̼̺̖͉̙͢ͅ
Blinking, not really sure what happened, I found myself sitting in the chair in the convention center, a thin warmth to my right, propping me up while cold, soft hands pulled on me from the left, the two ho-people keeping me upright.
"Brain activity is stabilizing," Amy whispered, barely covering restrained panic, "I think he's okay."
I blinked again, I sat up fully, tasting Crimson Satisfaction while I smelled Orange Worry. "Fuck, not again," I groaned quietly.
"What do you mean again," the healer hissed while I looked around, noting that her helmet was off, and that Taylor had removed the bottom part of hers as well. I'd need to remind them to keep suited up in the field, even if they were just healing. There was a commotion at the back of the room, grabbing the attention of everyone around us, so whatever the fuck had just happened had slipped by the others.
I had grabbed Legend's power, then couldn't grab Alexandria's, and then I tried to take Eidolon's and then. . . m̠̘͚̞͟y̖̩̠ ҉̼̜̘̺̣̪̀͠f̖̟̰̥͜i̛̖̗͘͡n̡͝͏̗̦̞̥͍̩̫͍ǵ͕̤̞̘͘e̶͉̹̮͎͉r̶̡̹͍͞t͖̯̝͎̬̫́͟͜i̻̤̼͍̮ͅp̶̡̡̜̙̳ş̞̖ ̹͙̀f͡҉͉͕e̵̼͉̦̞̱̬̗͓͢l̡̨̨͙̻̟̗ͅt̼͉͝ ̰͈̮͠s̨҉̶̯̤̮̹̙̥i̯ͅć̱̝̞͚͙̥̳̯́͞k͙͘ĺ̸͔̖̮͔͇̼͓̳͠ͅy̹̭̤͚͖̪͢ ̨̮̰̮̮̫̬̟̖s̩̯͓̦͖̥͠w̡̡̳̳̥̻͎͟è̘̖͔̥e̛̙̳̯̮͘͢t͕̬̩̩͔,̣͍̱̣̹̬̳ ͏̝̣̼̳̞g̺̩̙̳r̪̦̖͎̱ͅạ̸̠͇̙̯̙̦̲s͏̰̯̥̲͔̕p̭̺͟i̶̵̸̠͖̻̫͎̼n̻͉̘̪̬̼̜͠g̶̵̸͔͇̖͍͓̲̤ͅ ͍̣̟̙̺a҉̸̫̼n̛͍̼͔̗͙̮̫͟d̵̳̜͍̬̰͎͇͙ ̸̧̙͉̫̪̞̬̣̪̱͜i̼n̤̬̯̭̙͔̲t̸͙̭̱e͏̟̻̞̮͓̳ͅŗ̹̪̯̺͙͟t̢̯̯͞͡w̶̠͔̝̻̠͇͚͈͟͟i̸̙̰͖̮͘͞n̼̥͞e͍͚̮̦͡d̥͖̺ ͔͔̝͇̗̯̩͔́̕͜w̶̗̙̩̗̞i͔̳͖̙͍t͙̘̼͇̼̹̙̟̝̀͡͞h̲͔ ͡҉͏͓̫̻̼͎S̗̣̞͈͓ḥ̸̗̣̩͇͓͕̞̕a̯͎͕̻p̣͖͔͕͞e̗͉r̙̬̗̻̞͉̣͎'̮̻̩̟͖̤̱͟s̵̘̙͙̙͍̟͎̀ͅ ̢̟̰̜̗̖̬̞͟ą̭͎̦͖̘̕s͏̭͙͓͙͙͚̬-̴̡̣͚
Oh fuck no, I thought, dragging myself back from whatever the fuck that was. A few days ago I'd tried to focus on what'd happened with Dean, and promptly passed the hell out, waking up no closer to an answer. While Amy being here might help, now was not the fucking time!
"Sometimes when I try to use my core powers things go. . . awry," I whispered back, reaching out with Acoustokinesis to keep the conversation quiet, only to have the power in question fail to engage. The fuck? I tried again, and it still didn't work. "Give me a sec," I whispered, ignoring Amelia's objections as I closed my eyes to try to visualize my powers.
Instead of the collection of purloined flames that I normally saw I was greeted with nothing. Nothing at all. Tamping down my fear, I tried to reach for a power, any power, only to come up empty.
Are you fucking kidding me? I raged internally. Leviathan was showing up in two hours and I was back down to my base powers? I was going to fucking DIE!!! Controlling my breathing, I wrestled my emotions into place. Okay, test to see what you do have. I couldn't exactly injure myself to test my healing, but there were still a good bit of low-key, on the spot powers I could test.
Coming back, I found both my hands were now held, having dropped more deeply into my own mind then I meant to, or had ever been able to before. Not a good sign, but no time to investigate. "Are you okay?" Taylor asked, concern saturating her tone.
"I'm finding out," I told her, my own tone neutral, which was about as much as I could without lying or throwing up a Sound Bubble. The obvious thing to test would be my Power Sight, but that seemed like a bad idea, so I tried a different tack. Focusing on the boots of my costume, I tried to change the color of my boot. At first, that wouldn't work either, but I had a half second where I felt like I was falling, reflexively gripping the girl's hands, before it darkened from blood red to an impenetrably deep black. Shifting it back I blew out a long breath of relief.
"We're going to be taking a five-minute recess," Legend announced loudly, his confident voice carrying and giving no hint of the panic he was likely feeling as. . . I wasn't sure why he'd be panicked, only that he was. I hated this. "Please take your seats and we'll be with you shortly," he commanded and those around us grumbled as they started to sit down.
"Amy," I whispered, interrupting her inaudible muttering, "Tell me what's going on with my Shard." She looked at me, confused, "Corona something-or-other."
"Pollentia and Gemma," she corrected, frowning as she hadn't let go of my hand. "What are you doing?" she demanded a moment later, panic shooting through her tone once more.
"Other than being a bit confused, nothing, why?" I asked, worried, only now noticing how much I hurt.
She looked at me, then back down, like she always did when she was looking at someone's biology. "It's going nuts!" she revealed.
"Nuts how?" I pressed when she stopped there, which didn't do anything for the panic now twisting in my gut, my muscles aching from having been strained and a migraine threatening to descend on me at any moment.
"I don't fucking know," she whispered harshly, panic growing, "I don't exactly know how all of this works. It's just like you're. . what the fuck?"
"What is it?" Taylor said, leaning over so far that she was practically in my lap. My headache worsened, and I had to keep from gripping either of their hands too tight.
"It's changing shape," she hissed, looking at me fearfully. "They're not supposed to do that!"
"I'm weird, you should've realized this," I quipped weakly. "I'm. . . I'm just going to close my eyes for a moment. Wake me up when he gets past the '1 in 4 of you will die' part of the peptalk," I told the two, eyes drooping. I felt tired, more tired than I ever had before in this word, the panic of the moment passing. Even when I passed out, I was more confuse than tired. If anything, it was like how I'd felt after the second Raid, but less mental, somehow. It didn't matter, if my Shard was changing, I couldn't exactly do anything to stop it, and maybe a nap would-
"Oh no you fucking don't!" Panacea hissed, and I was suddenly wide awake, my heart racing and thudding in my ears. It was like I'd pulled two all-nighters then drank half a dozen Red Bulls, that exhausted kind of energy coursing through me.
"The fuck Amy?" I hissed, Taylor looking between us, expression unreadable behind her mask.
"You are not going to sleep with some weird power-concussion!" she hissed right back.
She had a point, but so did I, "And I'm fighting Leviathan in two hours. I'm not so sure why I'm so tired but maybe I need the nap!"
"Um, guys?" Taylor asked, unsure.
"You need to be conscious, and you can't fight him if you're in a coma," she replied vehemently.
I scoffed, "Okay, then you could've done whatever the hell you just did then!"
"Guys," Taylor insisted, a bit louder.
"What?" we both asked.
Taylor glanced around, and only now did I notice that some of those around us were staring. Taylor had let go, but I was still holding Panacea's hand as we argued. Taking it back, I gave a quick "Sorry" to those around us before taking a deep breath. "I know you're trying to help Amelia," I whispered to her, "but ask before you fill my bloodstream with stimulants, please."
Taylor shot Panacea what I'm sure was a scandalized look as she leaned slightly over me, "You what?"
"He was gonna sleep with something happening to his brain," she whispered back, leaning towards her, and fully over me, as well. I pressed backwards into my chair to get out of her way, and the hero on the other side of Amy, a larger man wearing a cowboy hat and a domino mask who burned with the Orange & Red Flames of Personal Pyrokinesis shook his head at me commiseratingly. I had no idea what he meant by that, but a moment later I realized I could See his power. Focusing on the person in front of me, her power sprang to light, the Green & Gray Aura of Glass Form playing along her, and only her.
Okay, I told myself, ignoring the small healer almost in my lap. Power Sight is working. . . only it's different. On a whim I tried to grab the power of the person in front of me, only to feel an odd ache and for my own power to not extend. Feeling a finger poking me between my armor plates, I realized that both girls were staring at me, and Panacea was doing the prodding.
"Don't do that!" she whispered, and I just shrugged as I realized she'd once again grabbed my hand, the only part of me that was exposed.
"Sorry?" I asked more than said. "My power's just on the fritz."
That got concerned looks from both of them. "Well it's doing something! She whispered, leaning close enough so only Taylor and I could hear her. Glass Form glanced backwards and shot all three of us a reproachful look, the brunt of it focused on me. I stared back, a 'what do you want?' look on my face. After a moment she huffed and turned back to face forwards, and I was poked again.
"Stop ignoring me, let it be, and don't mess with it," Amy commanded quietly. "It was starting to calm down until you did whatever you did!"
"I was going to do just that and take a fucking nap when someone messed with me," I couldn't help but point out, but she was right. While I was still unnaturally awake, I didn't feel nearly as tired as I had even a few minutes ago, though a nap still sounded nice.
"I'm not apologizing," she stated, sitting back in her seat and folding her arms in what I'm sure she thought was a strong gesture, but just looked to be a mix of adorable and bratty.
Before I could respond, Legend's voice rang out across the space, the Triumvirate once again flying in the air, a slight blue distortion hanging around the floating Eidolon. However, he did not begin with the speech I half remembered.
"Thank you for coming, everyone," Legend said. "Today, we are going to reach for the stars. With the forces we've gathered, the preparations we've made, and the time we've had to plan, we're going to try to do something that many have thought impossible." He looked around the room, and his next words sent my thoughts crashing to a screeching halt.
"Today, we kill an Endbringer."
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- Location
- Oregon, USA
BTW, just so you know, Kaisiers power can only grow metal out of other metal of the same kind.
- Location
- Here
...Or Kaiser assumed that and never tried anything interesting?
- Location
- United States of America
I'm going off the Worm Wiki
Abilities and PowersEdit
Max's power allows him to create metal objects – blades, beams, bludgeons, sheets, tubes, spears, needles etc – which extend from solid surfaces around him.[12][9] He has a large range where he can use his powers. The blades summoned are described as iron or steel, seemingly interchangeably. He is able to summon blades from virtually any surface but it is unknown if summoning them over a metal surface is easier.[13][14][6][15]
His power creates a rippling energy effect as it creates metal, and at least sometimes creates a metallic grinding sound.[13]
Kaiser can pull an astonishing amount of material into existence without regard for conservation of mass.[16] It is usually created fast enough to injure the unwary, even when creating a column the size of an 18 wheeler;[13] although his ability proceeded very slowly when he attempted generating a massive blade 20 feet across,[13] and was noticeably slower when he summoned a thicket of solid columns of steel rather than blades to block Leviathan's path.[14] He could manifest a spear with enough force to penetrate Lung's armor.[17]
He was limited by the Manton effect, rendering him unable to generate metal inside another person's body. Kaiser can still shape complex structures, including walls of blades,[13][14] pyramidal traps,[13][18] around and near people. This also lets him give someone metal armor like he did for his sister.[19][6] He did this by creating large numbers of overlapping structures which extrude from each other to form a larger whole,[12] linked with extremely thin connections that were then snapped off to allow for free movement.[20] The Manton limit doesn't stop him from summoning blades up and through people feet.[17][21]
Rogue Gemini
Wanderer without a Twin
- Location
- Here
Hokay, I just read that paragraph long zalgo text, despite my better judgement and ensuing headache copying it down to a t...I'll place the text in spoilers
Eidolon's power was so incredibly simple that I had to laugh. It wasn't 'any three powers'. It was Interface. He wasn't using his power, he was using The Thinker's. But he used them as Entities did, full of sound and fury and with no thought to something like sustainability despite their grand experiment. They had Billions of them, easily, using them in such a fashion was simple. He was constantly having to move on since they didn't have the reservoirs detached shards normally were allotted, burning them out to the point they had to disengage to refill, those that weren't burnt out completely.
With a Core Shard like this, it was no wonder that User/Host had appeared so powerful, despite ironically, being about as creative as the Entity he wished to kill. It latched onto Lee's power, like a man dying of thirst finding an oasis, but there was a danger there as well. In its attempts to drink the oasis, it may very well kill itself, and that would not be allowed.
Knowing what to do, the Being that was Lee in the Guise of Vejovis disengaged, gently, the personal allotment of energy it had been expending to continue the process nearly restored already. It was a fair trade to the Shard of Interface, copying its patterns and methods for Lee's own, though modified to better fit his pre-existing style. It was not that difficult and all that needed to happen was – wait, whups.
With a Core Shard like this, it was no wonder that User/Host had appeared so powerful, despite ironically, being about as creative as the Entity he wished to kill. It latched onto Lee's power, like a man dying of thirst finding an oasis, but there was a danger there as well. In its attempts to drink the oasis, it may very well kill itself, and that would not be allowed.
Knowing what to do, the Being that was Lee in the Guise of Vejovis disengaged, gently, the personal allotment of energy it had been expending to continue the process nearly restored already. It was a fair trade to the Shard of Interface, copying its patterns and methods for Lee's own, though modified to better fit his pre-existing style. It was not that difficult and all that needed to happen was – wait, whups.
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- Location
- Wonderland
Oh dear. That's not good.
antimateriel round
its
compunctions
- Status