Project Prometheus (Original Setting Superhero Quest)

Horizon, City of Leviathan's Rest—The Apiary—February 11, 2068

You are Sarah Ibis.

However, you worked hard for that doctorate, so you would prefer people call you "Doctor". "Dr. Massive Ibis" to be specific, in the vein of your perfect papa, Dr. Mammoth Ibis!

. . . although, simply "Dr. Ibis" is acceptable if there is no risk of there being confusion as to which generational intellect is being addressed . . . and you have, on the occasion, been referred to as "Officer Ibis" when you roleplayed a corrupt law enforcement official willing to forgive minor traffic infractions in exchange for sexual favors while being intimate with your girlfriend . . .

What were you thinking about again?

You blush and sit up. Your back has gone stiff from sitting at your lab station for too long again, so you stretch it out with a satisfying crack. The clock on the wall indicates it was well past midnight, so you decide you could do with a quick snack and a cup of tea. You shuffle to break room, and, as you wait for the water to boil, you reflect on your wandering thoughts.

You've been distracted lately, that much you cannot deny. All too often, your thoughts have strayed from the glory of science to imagining the cute knit that forms on Natalie's brow when you say something particularly outrageous. Or the melodious sound of her laughter when you tell a joke she finds funny. Or the feeling of panicked desperation you get whenever she thinks of her sister and a shadow falls over her face.

You . . . are not focused. For your whole life, the sight of insulated glass and the hum of machines have been your refuge. You were too young to really understand what was happening when Le Petit Prince got his hooks into your father, slowly warping a kind, loving—if erratic and silly—man into a manic monster, but you saw what it did to your mother. How she bounced from relationship to relationship, too scared to ever let someone get close to her again lest they also change. How she kept you at arms reach, your sandy hair and burning eyes too similar to your father's.

You don't resent your mother. Intellectually, you understand why she acted the way she did. You understand it was due to no fault of your own. Emotionally, however, it ached—and still aches—to know your mother cannot bear the sight of you. So you spent your childhood locked away, studying and working. Your teachers did look at you with pain in their eyes. Books did not flinch away from your touch. Science was consistent. Science had rules. Science made sense. And, if it didn't, then you could make it behave logically with enough research.

So you graduated college at fifteen, and got a PhD at age twenty. Your mother eventually found someone she could feel safe with and started a new family without you. You . . . tired to be happy for her. Even if you half-brother and half-sister are strangers. Even if you have to spend holidays with . . . Dale. The shadows left your mother's eyes, and that was enough for you.

Even if you saw it at a distance.

And, you still held out hope for familial connection. In the back of your mind, you knew your father was still out there—possibly broken and insane—but it was possible that one day you might see him again and reconnect.

Then he died. That was something of a setback.

The sheer, abrupt violence of the news stirred you from your studies for the first time in your life. He was in Horizon? He was a metahuman? He died fighting a supermassive alien corpse—that no one was currently actively studying?! Why?!

You had to know more. You had to uncover his legacy for yourself. So you packed your bags, hired a smuggler to get you out of the United States, stabbed said smuggler when they inevitably betrayed you, and found yourself in Horizon.

You went a little nuts with your newfound freedom, you'll admit. Going on a dating reality show was something of a lark. But, through it, you encountered your papa again. Bruised, weathered, still mostly-manic, but also the man who lived in your memories. He brought you to Justice Unlimited without a thought and shared his life's work with you.

Well, his life's work that is based on Nora Kim's life work, but it is the work of many lifetimes to be fair!

Now, you have a laboratory worthy of your talents. You can study the Leviathan's Blood to your heart's content. You have a father who dotes on you. And you even . . . are . . . in l-love?

It's not like you. It's distracting you. You know it's distracting you and there's so much more work to be done, so much more to learn! You tried to hide it from your father, but, being the genius tree from which your genius apple fell, it took him no time at all to see through your feeble deceptions.

You are sitting at your station, kicking your legs and giggling to yourself while the centrifuge spins. As you do, your father walks in and catches you in the act, red-handed.

"Darling daughter, where is your brilliant mind at the moment?!" he shouts in surprise, "You need to stabilize the mixture now! This isn't a standard dosage of Ambrosia! It's a Daddy-Daughter Ibis-special for quick injection! Focus, sweetness!"

"W-what?" you say, snapping from your daydream. As you do, you realize your precious papa is perfectly precinct as previously presupposed! The mixture is much to violate at the moment—it would explode if you tried to add it to the portable applicator now! How horrendously humiliating!

You and your father quickly work to salvage the dosage and not waste half of the precious goldnine you have remaining. As you do, your father repeats his question.

"This is uncharacteristic, pumpkin! Do I need to have you screened for outside metal influence?"

He says that last bit with the same jovial energy as the rest of his words, but you sense an undercurrent of fear in his voice. You're quick to reassure him.

"There's no outside influence father! I was . . . merely struggling with a particularly difficult sudoku puzzle! Yes, that's it! The numbers elude me!"

"Pumpkin . . ." your father says. Oh no. He's not angry. He's not sad. He's disappointed! On one hand, this is a first for you and your father and it's a precious thread in the tapestry that is your father-daughter relationship. On the other hand, the look in his eye makes you want to drop to your knees and beg his forgiveness.

Oh wait. You already have.

"Father! Ten thousand apologies! Nothing I can do can make up for shaming the Ibis name in the laboratory!"

"That's not what I mean, my scientudenous superstar," he says, shaking his head gravely, "Your lapse is uncharacteristic, but not unforgivable! No, what wounds me is that you are lying! You, Dr. Massive Ibis, foiled by a mere sudoku puzzle?! Never."

You gasp. If you weren't already on your knees, you would have fallen to them. Of course! Such a feeble lie could never fool the greatest scientific mind that this, or any other, world has ever seen!

"Father . . . forgive me . . .!" you cry, your head dropped low.

"Sarah," he says gently, tilting your head back up. There's a steely glint in his eyes, and you get a look at who your father was before. "Your mind has been wandering lately. You've been distracted. Unfocused. Absent-minded."

You bow your head in shame again.

"You've been . . . happy."

You look up, and the hardness in his gaze is gone. Your father gives you the kind of smile—so full of pride and love—that you've been craving your whole life.

"Love is a wonderful thing. Whatever it is—whoever it is—cherish them."

He pats you on the head and stands up.

"You and Natalie have a little under two weeks to come clean before we begin The Prankening™."

You sigh as you pour your tea and let the bag seep. Well, you suppose your relationship would have to either become public or end eventually . . . And you don't think Natalie was entirely serious when she made secrecy a precondition of being your girlfriend?

You look over the engineering lab where you can see the light coming from under the door. No doubt she and and your father's best friend forever, Dr. John Henry Rhodes a.k.a. Doctor Silver, are still hard at work finishing the latest batch of shield generators.


To hear tell from Natalie, there had been a recent breakthrough in the process. Something about Valiant Gold finding notes on the construction of the generators between the pages of her predecessor's erotic screenplay? Either way, it's made their manufacturing infinitely more efficient, and Natalie was ecstatic about the news.


You smile at the memory of her grin. She's been driving herself ragged recently, helping out her father in the lab and studying for her medical entrance exams. You are pleased she found this victory!


Sadly, your own efforts to contribute to Justice Unlimited have not proven fruitful. You had attempted to reconstruct some samples of metahuman DNA from incomplete medical records stored on servers in the Apiary, but there simply wasn't enough data . . . perhaps you could try again in the future, but, for now, it eludes you.

Truly, you must step up your game to keep up with the lovely Ms. Rhodes! What a magnificent mind she had! She will make an excellent physician! Though . . . sometimes you wonder if perhaps she should aim her ambitions a little higher. She does work for an organization of superheroes after all . . . one that can grant superpowers on demand . . .

"My beloved offspring! Come quick! Your theory regarding ultra-high potency DNA as borne fruit! Metaphorically delicious metaphorical fruit!"

Your father's excited voice interrupts your musing. Then you process what he just told you. You let out an excited squeal and race out of the room.

Natalie would later reheat your tea and bring it to you.


Horizon, City of Leviathan's Rest—The Apiary—February 12, 2068

You are Wolong.

You arrive twenty minutes early to the meeting for Project Prometheus, and you have to actively work to hide your eagerness. You can't help it! The idea that you are having a meeting to discuss the creation of a new metahuman is something that will never lose its novelty for you. You've spent the last few days—weeks if you were being honest—thinking about how different powers could be mixed and matched . . . it never stops being fun!

And that the Ibises informed you this morning that they've made a breakthrough that might turn the whole process on its head . . .

You're still smiling as the others shuffle in. Chaucer is the first to arrive, pushing Charlotte in her wheelchair.

You hardly recognize the woman who had been so close to death just a scant few months ago. Back then, she had looked like something out of a charnel house. Her power had saved her from goldnine exposure just in the nick of time, but at a terrible cost. Now, save for her missing limbs, you never would have known she had been on death's door. Charlotte's skin was ruddy and flush with life, her blue eyes gleamed with a joyous luster, and even her blond hair had regrown to nearly past her ears.

Knowing that just one of your friends had survived The Movement . . . it did your heart good.

Some of your melancholy must show on your face, because Charlotte gives you an understanding look as Chaucer parks her at the table and pulls himself a seat. You nod at the Famine Slayer who returns the gesture.

"Wolong. I can't say I fully understand why I am still attending these meetings . . . but you won't hear any complaints from me!" he says with a slight grin, "It is rather thrilling, isn't it?"

"That it is," you agree, "And it's because you have the respect of everyone here, Joelle. 'The future does not just belong to the mighty—'"

"'—it also belongs to the kind'," Charlotte says, finishing one of New Dawn's motto. Supposedly it came from Valiant Red himself.

"You Joelle," she says, "Are most in tune with what the average person is feeling at this moment. There must be someone who can speak for those without powers here. Your input is among the most valuable we could ask for."

Chaucer harrumphs in embarrassment and looks away, but you can tell Charlotte's words are appreciated.

"Well . . . yes," he says, clearing his throat, "Then I can say the average person is pleased with our efforts to improve the Apiary. Mrs. Del Rosario can be, ah, forceful with her proposals, but she certainly has her finger on the pulse of the population."

"Aww, yay!" a voice calls from the doorway. Black Swan flies in, followed by Doctor Silver. "Soraia and Shelley have been asking about building a school for weeks! I kept telling them I don't know how to make one!"

And yet, their persistent requests had worked their way up from Black Swan to yourself and found themselves included in your budget. There was something to be said for whispering in the right ears, you suppose.

Black Swan takes her seat and Doctor Silver sits next to her.

After the . . . chaos of the last meeting, you had felt it wise to limit the number of attendees to planning sessions. You had been worried that Justice Unlimited might feel you were overstepping your bounds, but they proved surprisingly amenable to the idea.

"There's just gonna keep being more of us, right?" Handyman had said, "Proooobably better to start cutting down on the number of chefs in the kitchen now, yeah?"

To that end, you had asked Justice Unlimited to elect two representatives to send to this meeting. In the future, Châtelet and Lady Leizi will, of course, be in attendance as the team's leaders, but you thought it was also a good idea to set the precedent of the team at large having a voice.

"Black Swan, Doctor Silver," you say, greeting them.

"Hi, Wolong! Hi, Arc! Hi, Joelle! My mom says you left your hat in her room again!"

"Wolong," Doctor says, returning your greeting coolly. You hide your wince.

Ellie had confided in you that there had been some . . . tension between Doctor Silver, and herself and Black Swan. After Yara Oliveira contacted Belle Sabreuse and relayed that Lady Leizi and Châtelet were currently in The Frozen Throne, it became evident that Justice Unlimited would need an interim leader. Doctor Silver had, reasonably, taken the position that Ellie and Black Swan were too inexperienced to lead the team despite their awesome powers. They had agreed.

What they disagreed about was whether that meant Doctor Silver was the best person to lead Justice Unlimited. On one hand, he had been a member in a civilian capacity since the organization had been called "NuGen". He was intelligent, well-respected, and more than capable. On the other hand . . .

"He won't let go of the idea of taking revenge on the Demon Flamez for the death of his daughter," Ellie had told you, "Everything else is secondary to that. We couldn't trust him with Justice Unlimited so long as that was true."

Ellie and Black Swan had suggested reaching out to New Dawn—and thus, you—for help navigating things without Lady Leizi. Doctor Silver had protested that you were unneeded and that he was more than qualified to fill Lady Leizi's shoes. You also know he was keenly aware of the rivalry between Justice Unlimited and New Dawn—one where New Dawn was largely the aggressor. No doubt some part of him rebelled at the idea of giving you control of Justice Unlimited, even for a short duration, even given the thawed relations between your teams. In response, Black Swan and Ellie had raised their concerns about his objectivity, he had, in turn, been offended, which only solidified their objections and—

"I told him he was more than welcome to try to stop us if he felt that strongly about it," Ellie had admitted. There had been a furrow in her brow and an almost pained expression as she explained the situation to you. "We all knew how a fight between us would turn out."

She had pulled her knees into her chest and folded her arms over them. There was a look of raw vulnerability you had rarely seen on the face of Yu's daughter. It made you wish you could comfort her and rue the turns of life that made it so you couldn't.

"I . . . I didn't like saying that. I don't like doing that—tossing my weight around. But . . . we had to." You see the abject misery in her face, hidden behind a stoicism that looks wrong on a girl her age. "John Henry took it badly. I haven't been over to Rhodes' for dinner since . . . I'm pretty sure I'm not welcome there anymore."

"Are you okay?" you had asked, gently.

"It's fine," she said, waving you off, "John Henry will be professional about this. And he's mad at me, not you. So long as it doesn't involve the Demon Flamez, I'm not worried."

"Ellie, I mean are you okay emotionally?" You didn't expect her to open up to you, but she needed to know someone was there for her.

But, to your surprise, she shook her head.

"No, Uncle Gabriel. I'm not okay. I'm really upset. I really, really am."

You carefully, slowly, gingerly put a hand on her back. She leaned into your touch.

You stayed like that for a while.

"Politics are terrible."

"Yes, Ellie. Yes, they are."

You thought you had detected some resentment from Doctor Silver when Ellie asked you to lead Justice Unlimited, but, thankfully, that seems to have faded somewhat as he's come to approve of how you're handling your stewardship.

You can't help but be confused that he's here instead of Ellie, however . . . But that would be impolitic to say out loud at this moment, to say the least.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" Black Swan calls, as if she read your mind, "Ellie couldn't make it! She volunteered to go talk to Christian today to let him know we're gonna help Powers beat up the Horae Guard!."

"Ah, I see," you say, blinking. Well, one mystery solved. "Thank you for telling me."

"Still can't believe we're leaving the NID high and dry to help out that monster," Doctor Silver says, shaking his head, "I know you said Rosemary's death was an accident and that he was like a brother to her, but . . ."

"I think we're all struggling with it," Charlotte says sympathetically, "It's . . . the last thing anyone would expect."

"Yeah, well—"

"Why are there people talking who aren't me?!" a very loud voice shouts from just outside the room, "How dare you start this meeting without The Doctor Mammoth Ibis and his darling daughter, Doctor Massive—my best friend, John Henry?!" I didn't know you were going to be here!"

Dr. Mammoth Ibis rushes into the room and, well, tackles Doctor Silver for lack of a better term. The hero manages to avoid toppling over as he gets a hug from Project Prothemeus' head researcher.

"John Henry! You've been so preoccupied lately! We have so much boxing to get caught up on! And I've taken the liberty of composing our joint theme song—here's let me sing a few bars: ~John Henry and Emeril Ibis/The best friends that there ever were!/And if you do not agree with us/Then you are just a stupid, stinking cur!~"

Meanwhile, Dr. Massive Ibis shuffles in behind her father.

"Ah, hello Dr. John Henry Rhodes!" she says, much too loudly, "It is pleasant to see you on this fine day! I am normal and am in no way threatening to you or your family structure!"

You feel a headache coming on. As you rub your temples, you feel something in your breast pocket. Oh. It's two painkillers and a note from Belle Sabreuse reminding you to take them with water.

. . . maybe if the teams don't merge, you'll be able to poach the swordswoman for New Dawn?

Oh, wait. Her personal loyalty to Yara Oliveira.

Drat.


"I've been intrigued by our DNA sample for Rosemary Ward for quite some time now," Dr. Massive Ibis explains, once everything has come down. Unlike her father, her usual . . . mannerisms appear to at least partially be a role she plays. The woman in front of you is focused and serious, unlike Dr. Mammoth Ibis who is preening at his daughter.

"The potency of her DNA is too great for any normal person to use without dying painfully," she continues, "Which, as fascinating as that is, would be questionably ethical and make a big mess that someone would have to clean up."

"Makes you wonder how Rosemary herself handled it," Doctor Silver says, stroking his chin, "You think there are folks out there with a tolerance for Ambrosia higher than Mona's?"

Dr. Missive Ibis gives a great shrug, then realizes who she's addressed and quickly adopts a more respectful posture, "Perhaps. But if they're out there, then they're so rare as to be nonexistent. It was a statistically improbable circumstance that a person with an extreme outlier tolerance developed a power that actually made use of said tolerance."

She shakes her head.

"But I'm getting distracted—"

"That's my darling daughter!" Dr. Mammoth Ibis calls, "Focused like a laser, an iron grasp on her train of thought!"

"Father! I am not worthy—"

"Ummm, so, the cool research?" Black Swan interrupts before they can get going.

"Ah, yes!" Dr. Massive Ibis says, "Incidentally, we are of similar ages and I wish to be your friend and 'chill' together! Talk to me after this meeting!"

"Yippie! Okasies!"

"Now, age-appropriate socialization aside, I've made a breakthrough in rendering Ms. Ward's DNA usable for Project Prometheus!"


"You have?" you say with your eyebrow raised. You feel your heart beat with excitement. "That's . . . incredible."

Charlotte gives you a look. She knows you all too well. You can't help it! Think of the different combinations of powers you could make if you could somehow reduce the potency costs of DNA samples like Automne or The Giant Slayer!

"I'm aware!" Dr. Massive Ibis says shamelessly, "But, it did not come without its drawbacks. The only way to reduce the potency of Ms. Ward's DNA was to sacrifice some of the nature of how her power expressed itself. However, there were shockingly few configurations where her DNA was both usable for Project Prometheus and stable enough to be introduced into a dosage of Ambrosia. I've included the strain I created that best preserves her power without reducing it to uselessness."

She presses a button on her screen.

"I've emailed it to you all. Look at it now and tremble at my genius! The genius that has been passed down in the Ibis family for one generation!"

"That's my baby girl!"

It takes every inch of willpower you have to not open your email and begin reviewing Dr. Massive Ibis' work immediately. Then you realize she's waiting for you to do so.

Well, you need no other excuse.


"Remarkable!" Chaucer calls once you've all had a chance to digest what's been sent to you, "And this can be done to any of our samples of metahuman DNA?"

"Did I say that?" Dr. Massive Ibis says, tapping her chin thoughtfully, "I don't believe I did because it's completely inaccurate, but my mind has been elsewhere lately—for, uh, completely non-romantic reasons. I am single and enjoy the company of, uh, science. Not anyone's wonderful daughter with eyes like onyx and a smile that cures all the world's ills!"

"Y-yeah!" Black Swan says in solidarity with her new friend, "N-no thoughts about pretty girls distracting anyone here!"

"Black Swan, I appreciate the effort, but you are clearly in love with Valiant Gold," Dr. Massive Ibis says, "Please do not build our new friendship on a bedrock of lies."

Black Swan makes a choking sound and sputters. Huh. You don't need to use your powers to know that Dr. Massive Ibis is telling the truth. So, Black Swan has feelings for Ellie. Is Ellie aware? Is her boyfriend?

. . . wait, a moment, Ellie told you she was a lesbian! How does a lesbian have a boyfriend?

Suddenly, Black Swan's grudge against Menagerie Witch makes perfect sense. You'll ask Ellie if you and Charlotte will need to have an "HR Talk" with the shadowy summoner.

"Can we please focus?" Doctor Silver growls, drawing looks from Dr. Mammoth Ibis and Chaucer. Dr. Massive Ibis snaps to attention.

"Yes, Fathe—uhh, Doctor John Henry Rhodes Silver, sir!" She coughs into her hand. "For the Ibis-Pruning-Procedure to work correctly, a power must have a base potency of six or higher. Any lower, and the split sample will be insufficiently powerful to be of any use in a dose of Ambrosia. Also, for sceintudeious reasons that I will skip going into because I am deeply intimidated at the moment, the only stable meta-configuration of split samples is at half their base potency. So all potency eight samples will have a split potency of four, nines will reduce to five, and so forth."

Doctor Silver looks surprised at that last remark, and then ashamed. He leans onto the table and rubs the back of his head.

"Additionally, splitting an Algernon-type sample renders it useless. It can be done, however. There's nothing Dr. Massive Ibis cannot do with her father and her girlfriend by her side!"

"What?" Black Swan says.

"Nothing! Go kiss your tokusatsu crush!"

She turns to her father. "Look, Papa, I totally just razzed my new friend!"

"I saw and I'm so proud! My precious princess!"

Black Swan starts sputtering again.

"Can you start creating these 'delta samples' immediately?" Charlotte asks, well-practiced at ignoring intra-team shenanigans.

"Certainly!" Dr. Massive Ibis replies cheerfully, "But there is a material cost! You supply the budget, and I'll supply the science!"


"I can't take it anymore!" the senior Ibis shouts, leaping from his seat. Doctor Silver lets out a startled oath. "I can't let my brilliant daughter think her father is a layabout! I've made a less dramatic breakthrough than my progeny, but I too have something to contribute!"

"Father, I'm so sorry! I've hogged the spotlight!"

"It's alright my daughter! I've been told I work better in small doses!"

"Hey, so the Apiary gave me my own bathroom, so there's room for you to keep some stuff over at our place if you want to now," Black Swan tells Chaucer, waiting for the Ibis' to finish, "At least a toothbrush?"

"That wouldn't make you uncomfortable?"

"Nah, my dad's been dead forever! And you make mom happy!"

"Hmm, I might just take you up on that! I'll speak with Marisa."

"I get uncomfortable when we're not talking about me!" Dr. Mammoth Ibis sneers, flapping his arms, "Now, pay attention! I've taken our research into increasing a candidate's tolerance to Ambrosia and expanded upon it. For too long have we been limited by incremental increases! We must be bold! Which is why I've invented the 'Speed-of-Ibis Pass!' Also called the 'Fast Pass!'"


There's silence in the room.

". . . it lets us cheaply increase a candidate's tolerance more quickly than a typical tolerance boost," Dr. Mammoth Ibis says, looking slightly deflated, "It's similar to fast passes they sell at amusement parks?"

There's more silence in the room. Charlotte coughs.

". . . it does have the drawback of preventing any further tolerance boosts from being applied once administered. The exact formula we have lingers in the candidates system and reacts badly if another boost is used. I . . . I thought it was pretty impressive."


"I have a dose of Fast Pass made already . . . we can apply it with no extra cost," Ibis Sr. looks around, "I-is no one impressed? No one? D-daughter . . .?"


"If I am not selective with my praise, you will never truly improve, my flailing father!"

"A-ah, I see," he says, "I, uh, have also developed the dosage of Ambrosia for Yara Oliveira as specified by Valiant Gold and Black Swan. We even have a quick injector for it . . .?"

"That's pretty neat," Black Swan offers, encouragingly, "So we can administer Ambrosia faster now?"

"No. . ." Dr. Mammoth Ibis trails off, "The great Dr. Mammoth Ibis is still uncertain that this method won't just cause Yara Oliveira to explode painfully when used. It's only your and Valiant Gold's assurances of atemporal predestination that gives me the slightest inkling this is anything other than a very elaborate form of murder!"

Black Swan tosses up her hands and sits back in her chair. Charlotte coughs again.

"John Henry, my bestest best friend, everyone is being mean to meeeeeeee!"

Now, you cough into your hand. "Yes, well. Thank you Dr. Ibis and . . . Dr. Ibis."

Your head is starting to pound again.

"Ah, well that begs the question that we've convened to answer," Charlotte says, changing the subject like a very, very good friend, "Who shall be the next subject of Project Prometheus? We have four candidates to choose from."

"We can throw out Cain immediately," Doctor Silver says, crossing his arms, "We just recovered from another PR disaster. We don't need to create another right away. Plus, I don't know if we can trust him with the kind of power he might receive."

"I dunno, Simão seems alright," Black Swan says, touching her chin, "He's kind of a poo-head, but he knows he's a poo-head? And I think he puts on an act to look tough most of the time? Also, he's doing really well on parole!"

"Then I say we give him more time to prove the tiger can change his stripes," Doctor Silver counters, "Plus, if I understand his chart right, we might be able to make him as powerful as you or VG. If we're gonna take a gamble, we may as well bet big. But that means we need time to raise his tolerance to Ambrosia."

"What about Mrs. Del Rosario?" Charlotte says, "Her reputation is impeccable as is her commitment to her ideals. She's stubborn, but in a way that I feel we need to keep us honest."

"I like her!" Black Swan agrees, "But I don't think she'd be okay hurting people? So maybe, like, not a punching power?"

"She would be best suited to a support-type power, I agree," you say, "And, even without offensive capability, a power that aids others can be the difference in battle. Doctor Silver has already saved Justice Unlimited countless times if the AAR's I've reviewed are to be believed."

Doctor Silver goes still at that and a complicated expression forms on his face.

"Well, well, let's not forget Shelley," Chacuer says, "She's nearly as idealistic as Soraia, but with more of a, shall we say, flexible view of morality. We might as well put that mischievous energy of hers to constructive use."

"Maybe," Doctor Silver agrees, "But like Cain, we probably need to give it time if she's going to reach her full potential. A high A-class or low S-class metahuman is worth waiting for."

"Which brings me to my suggestion," you say, "By creating nothing but high-level metahumans, Justice Unlimited has quickly regained its strength. However, just as important as having access to Project Prometheus, is how it's been kept secret."

"Good OPSEC is Double L's forte," Doctor Silver agrees.

"Yes, but even that will fail if you continue to recruit nothing but A and S class metahumans," you say, "I know Menagerie Witch and Belle Sabreuse are not Prometheans, but having eight metahumans all as or more powerful than any active duty member of New Dawn strains credulity. You need more C and B class metahumans to make it seem like Justice Unlimited's success is tied to a broad recruiting effort than some sort of ability to produce powerful heroes on command."

Everyone nods along.

"To that end," you say, "I saw we consider empowering Song Yu-Jin. He will not be the most powerful addition to Justice Unlimited, but he will avoid drawing more attention."

"He's already a talented martial artist," Charlotte muses, "He has the skills to get the most out of whatever power is given to him, but like Lady Leizi herself . . ."

"Assuming it fits his fighting style," Chaucer says, "Which should be easy to account for?"

"Huh, seems like there's stuff about everyone," Black Swan says, summarizing it all succinctly, "So who do we pick? And are we doing the delta stuff?"


"I also know you've been setting aside charges to examine power interactions," Charlotte says, looking at you from the side of her eye, "You haven't been giving yourself migraines again playing around with combinations, have you?"

"No!" you deny quickly. How did she know? You couldn't help it! You were fascinated by Scarlet Maturity's reported [Tactile Telekinesis] so you spent some time determining it was a form of [Autobiokinesis] mixed with [Telekinesis] and [Self-Enhancement] . . . it was a valuable discovery and your headache wasn't even that debilitating!


Charlotte gives you a look.

"Yes, well," you say, awkwardly, "I did manage to set aside a charge of my power, without causing myself harm, to . . .

[ ] . . . determine if there was any commonality between powers that enhanced physical characteristics, and, if a connection exists, if there is some sort of grand synergy involving a combination of them.

[ ] . . . see if we could begin to formulate a power that could help mitigate or even cure injuries suffered in battle, similar to how Mendicant's secondary power lets them instantly determine the biological makeup of a sample of living matter.

[ ] . . . examine the constructs created by Menagerie Witch to learn why they're capable of more complex instruction and independent thinking than constructs created by other powers.

---

But there's more to decide! Who is the next candidate for Project Prometheus?

[ ] Song Yu-Jin

[ ] Soraia Del Rosario

[ ] Shelley Marie

[ ] Simão Cruzes da Silva Neto, alias "Cain"

[ ] No One


Do you wish to create a Δ sample? If so, how many? Format your vote as the following:

[ ] Δ Samples
- [ ] Sample 1
- [ ] Sample 2
- [ ] Total Cost of Δ Samples: X

24 HOUR MORITORUM ON VOTING