Sorry for how long this has taken. Several things have been keeping me busy, college included.
Now, back to writing pony stuff...
LIFE IN BROCKTON BAY
You make your own recommendations on the E88 situation. It all ties back into your earlier conversation with Glen Chambers - beating their superpowered muscle is less important, ultimately, than destroying them as an organization able to support its ideology. It is the idea of Empire Eighty-Eight that you must slay, just as you have slain the idea of the Ku Klux Klan before it.
With that out of the way, your next duty is an evening patrol with Miss Militia and Dauntless.
Patrolling as you do through Merchants-controlled territory, you focus your enhanced senses on detecting certain chemicals. Cocaine, heroine, LSD, crystal meth, krokodil, and a number of other harmful substances all appear in your field of vision each time you get within six blocks of them.
"Eight arrests and a whole bunch of stashes found, and it's been less than two hours. You really don't screw around," Dauntless comments. "I'm gonna miss you when things get back to normal around here."
"For what value of normal?" Miss Militia asks. "Brockton Bay's situation was not exactly normal to begin with."
"You know what I mean. With Avatar here, the Empire is laying low. Even the Merchants wouldn't have made a pip if New Wave hadn't attacked their drug lab. Once he leaves, though, all the villain are gonna be rushing back in."
"I'm not so sure about that," she counters. "The ABB is gone. The Merchants are going to the Birdcage. Coil is out of town and deprived of his primary resources. The Empire has lost half of its financial force. The Travelers are in jail. The Undersiders are one member short. We should be able to handle whatever comes next."
"That's a little naive," he says. "The Bay didn't stop being a cesspool once Marquis and the Teeth were gone. New villains will just rush in to fill the power vacuum."
"I think you're the one oversimplifying," she says with a small smile even as she surveys the area. "Criminal organizations need time to establish and entrench themselves. All of the major villain groups here have been weakened, and new ones will not be strong from the start. Besides… I think the PRT has special plans for Brockton Bay."
That gets your attention. Dauntless's too: "Something from the meetings with Piggot?"
"You might say that. Considering that Leviathan died here, the city is turning into a very symbolic location. The PRT wants it to become a symbol of how that the good guys do win, and that means making sure the local heroes are at an advantage. You already know we're getting Tsunami, but she's not the only reinforcement we're adding to the roster."
You dismiss a drug stash from your senses - too small, so clearly for personal use, and you're looking for the dealers - and speak up: "Who else, then? Is Skitter still being assigned to Boston?"
"Yes, but we're getting one of Boston's Wards. The current leader, Kilogram."
Dauntless pauses, trying to remember. "Kilogram, Kilogram… The kid with body armor and tonfas?"
"He can change the mass of inanimate objects he touches by a factor of some two to three hundred," says Miss Militia. "He can make the armor lighter than a T-shirt, and make the tonfas hit like a car by upping their mass right before impact. His rating is Striker 5, with sub-ratings of Brute 1, Mover 1."
"Why mover?"
"He can make a throwing motion with his tonfas, then increase their mass at the last moment without letting go and having them drag him. Murder on the arms, though."
You consider. "Who will be replacing his leadership position in Boston?"
"That would be Weld, a Case 53 kid with a body of living metal. I think that's a bonus, actually - he's the most photogenic Case 53 in the PRT's payroll, and they've been wanting to give him some kind of leadership role." She pauses. "Kilogram is just a month younger than Aegis. He will briefly succeed him as leader of the BB Wards when he graduates, then join the Protectorate himself. Meanwhile, though, we're getting one more Ward, and that one's a local."
You can take a guess at her meaning. Dinah Alcott. Now that she's out of Coil's thumb, it makes sense that her parents (and her uncle, the mayor) would want her in the Wards. "The precognitive girl?"
She nods. "Tentative name is Gaussian, until they come up with something better (that isn't already taken). The power testings were actually pretty impressive - she's classified as Thinker 8. Mind you, with her powers, she's never going on the frontlines, but I expect having a Thinker of her caliber will make a huge difference - even if mostly, she'll be answering questions for the national PRT office."
Dauntless nods approvingly. "No offence meant to Gallant, but I'll appreciate having an actual high-level Thinker on our side for once."
You chuckle, recalling what the young empath is doing for Panacea. "You may be somewhat underestimating how useful Gallant is currently making himself. With that said, I generally agree with Miss Militia. The high criminality level of Brockton Bay isn't written in the stars; it is within your power to change this situation for the better, with or without me."
"Maybe. Maybe."
"You seem somewhat unenthused."
"Heh. Well, it's a big responsibility… OK, it's gonna sound stupid telling you that, but you know. Once you leave, I'm back to being the arguably strongest hero in town, with all the expectations that this implies. I don't exactly feel like I was making a huge difference before, and I don't really see what I could do differently." He jokingly adds, "And I don't think Armsmaster is terribly fond of me."
"I don't think he is either. Which is unsurprising." His expression changes as you go on: "Armsmaster has devoted himself to the task completely. He has optimized his sleep patterns to be as time-efficient as possible, he is always improving his arsenal, and he still manages to spend more time in combat training than most PRT field agents."
Dauntless chews on that. "So you're saying I piss him off because comparatively speaking, I'm a slacker? Pretty much everyone is, and it's not like I can tinker with my equipment."
"Armsmaster needs to fight for every inch, for every small improvement," you say. "Your power provides an easy dose of daily improvement, but you only do the required minimum in terms of honing your skills. That it aggravates him is only human."
"So if I train harder, he'll hate my guts less?"
"Probably. However, while intra-team harmony is a laudable goal, I don't think earning the approval of a teammate is the best reason for a major lifestyle change."
He blinks. "Wait, are you saying I shouldn't ask for extra patrols and add ten more hours of combat training per week?"
"I am saying that whatever you do, you ought to be doing it for the right reasons. The mindset with which we charge into battle - literal or metaphorical - can matter almost as much as the decision to do battle at all. If you take additional workload merely to earn some respect from a man whom you do not seem to respect all that much yourself, then it is unlikely that your heart will truly be in it.
"However, Dauntless, consider this: Whatever we do with our lives, we ought to be doing it well. We owe that much to ourselves. You are not, as I understand, forced to be a Protectorate hero. You could argue that with your great power comes great responsibility. You could argue that the world needs all the heroes it can get. You could argue that it would be terribly selfish of you not to use your extraordinary abilities to help others. Every single one of these arguments would be accurate, but none of them change this simple fact: In the end, it is your decision. Whether or not you choose to perform this role is your choice. And whatever it is you choose to do, you ought to treat it as being your decision, rather than some annoying burden thrust upon you. Our choices define us, after all; we owe to ourselves to take them seriously."
Dauntless keeps silent for a while, thinking. "I've never thought about it that way, but… I think I see your point. I could be making easy money as a mercenary or whatever. I could be staying out of this whole Protectorate headache. But I actually do care enough about all that 'save the world' bullshit to stay, so I might as well treat it as an actual career rather than some weird thing I have to do instead of whatever my plans for a normal life were, right?"
Miss Militia gives an amused smile. "That's my own position. I certainly wouldn't mind sharing patrols with you more often, and I suspect Armsmaster could benefit from having you as a more frequent sparring partner…"
These people… You can never forget that they're humans. Not gods, not living concepts. They are a complex, often self-contradicting construct of competing ideas and urges. Their desires, goals and choices are never as clear-cut as yours or as those of the rest of the pantheon. But you have seen this, again and again: With introspection, with increased self-awareness, they gain greater clarity. With greater clarity, they become capable of so much more.
Dauntless was not entirely wrong, earlier. When you leave Brockton Bay, evil will try to rush back in, if not immediately then in the coming months and years. But when it does, there will be heroes bravely standing in its path, and you suspect Dauntless will rank among their shining lights.
With your patrol done, you take the time for a team-mandated sparring session with Battery and Armsmaster. For the sake of the exercise, you refrain from using any of your active powers. Even so, neither of them can beat you without significant effort - your strength and reflexes are at the peak of human potential, you can keep going for hours without getting tired, and you have more combat experience than any human alive. You can even give these two a few constructive tips.
"You fight better than most capes," Armsmaster comments as he walks back toward the workshop afterward. "Is that a function of your powers?"
"In a roundabout way, in that my powers have afforded me longevity," you answer as you walk beside him. "I have been fighting since before your parents were born, after all. That is a lot of time to build up a variety of skills." And even now, you still regularly meet humans who outperform you in a myriad ways - a testament to human ability.
He nods. "I always find it aggravating, when people think they can just coast by on their powers. Someone intending to be a professional hero should put in the effort to improve over time."
"A proposition to which you certainly seem to have committed," you point out. "It seems to me that you work harder than anyone else in the ENE Protectorate. Though, if you'll forgive me, I am not convinced that your approach to self-improvement is optimally efficient."
That gives him pause. "What do you mean?"
"Well… Consider: Obviously, you spend a lot of time on your tinkering, which makes sense, but yields diminishing returns past a certain point due to the need to personally maintain any tinkertech you build. You also spend an inordinate amount of time at the gym, honing your body and martial skill - and here, too, diminishing returns become an issue. It seems to me that, by focusing on your strengths, you are turning yourself into a combat specialist - not a bad thing to do if your role is following orders and winning fights, but suboptimal for the team's leader." Even if you hadn't met Armsmaster's types many times before, you've had about a week to get to know the ENE Protectorate and get an idea of how things work around here.
He frowns. "Then what would you suggest?"
"Well, I believe some generalization is required. On one hand, there is tactics. Your tactics are fine, but there is always room for improvement. Studying cape battles in general, discussing them with colleagues both in and out of the city, could yield a variety of useful ideas. Perhaps more importantly, though, there is a whole array of social skills that can prove highly useful in a leadership position. To some people, they come naturally. To others, they appear as an opaque, incomprehensible mystery. Perversely enough, it tends to be precisely the latter people who don't train their social skills, despite needing them the most - probably because they don't even understand them enough to imagine a way to improve. From a rational perspective, however, patching one's weaknesses is no less important than developing one's strengths."
He pauses. "I have included a lie detector in my helmet."
"An excellent idea! Has it been helpful?"
"Very."
"So you see my point. Improving your understanding of human social interaction would help in the field, in running the team, in dealing with the public, in your work with the PRT, and probably in saving yourself a few ulcers. Tinkertech such as your lie detector can assist, but, again, the need for maintenance time leads to diminishing returns. As such, training your direct skillset would be more efficient."
"How does one even train something like that?"
"Like most things, through practice. Talking to people, trying to understand them, and trying to convey your opinions in a convincing manner. Having someone with more experience mentoring you can be a boon - I can offer some assistance, and I suspect Miss Militia could as well. No less importantly, I have been looking up Earth Bet's literature, and I have recognized a few books that ought to provide useful guidance. Rhetorics are an old field of study, after all."
"I'll look into it," he says. "Though I'll admit, I have difficulty picturing it. What sort of advice would you give?"
"A number thereof. The most important however - in my experience - is empathy." You pause. "At the end of the day, the most useful trick for dealing with another person is to try to see things from their perspective. Imagining yourself in their situation, with their goals and experiences. It helps provide a more accurate map of what they will wish to do, and which arguments will matter to them. All too often, we say the things that would convince us, instead of the things that would convince our audience."
You doubt Armsmaster will ever become an exceptionally empathic person. He might, however, significantly improve with time - and that will likely prove highly valuable for the heroes of Brockton Bay.
On the way to Genesis' cell, you use your secondary powers to remotely access the computer in your quarters, checking information about that Weld character. He is most likely to be Weaver's leader for the foreseeable future, after all, and you'd rather make sure she is in good hands.
Thankfully, every bit of information you can scrounge up on Weld paints a positive picture. By all accounts, he's a good-hearted fellow with some genuine potential.
You also look up the leader of the Boston Protectorate, a Thinker named Rewind. Her power is that she experiences life in chunks of about 8 seconds… and experiences each chunk twice as precognitive visions before finally living it for real. There isn't that much information about her (her thread on PHO is bombarded with salacious speculations about the applicability of her power in the bedroom, warranting multiple mod interventions), but it seems that she is generally liked; what criticism there is of hers, generally, accuses her of over-cautiousness.
But enough of that. Genesis - or Jesse, as is her name - sits before you in her wheelchair, with a couple guards watching over her.
"Oh, hello," she says, straightening up as much as she can.
"Greetings, Miss. I hope this isn't a bad time to intrude?"
She raises an eyebrow. "No worse than any other. Is there a problem?"
The PRT guards are slightly twitchy. Not necessary - Genesis can only generate energy projections while her real body is sleeping, after all.
"No more than usual. There may actually be one less problem soon," you say, handing her a form paper and a pen. Curious, she reads it, her eyes growing wide as saucers.
"You… you're going to heal me?"
"If you sign this authorization form. If you'd rather not, of course, then I'll respect your wishes."
She can't sign quickly enough.
It is with the authorization of deputy director Renick that Jesse, heavily escorted, is briefly let out of her cell, following you toward Noelle's. Her enthusiasm at the regained use of her legs is heartwarming, though you're mostly being careful not to let your own fatigue show too much - true healing always did drain you.
Noelle looks up as you enter. "Good eveni… Jesse?!"
After some initial shock, Noelle is naturally overjoyed at her friend no longer being wheelchair-bound. Jesse, for herself, comments that Noelle looks better; the latter confirms that her mind, too, is closer to recovery.
Genesis is eventually escorted back to her cell, and you find yourself having conversation with Noelle as you resume the task of repairing her mind and body.
The hours pass. Thought patterns restored. Growths unmade. It takes the entire night, and Noelle falls asleep halfway through the process. Shortly before sunrise, however, you are done: The young woman before you has been fully restored, in mind and body both.
When you wake her, she spends several minutes crying tears of joy.
"Keep in mind, this isn't perfect. You still can't touch people, and whatever force it is that's twisting you, it is still active. I can undo what it does faster than it does it, but that's not quite the same thing as a permanent cure."
"So, I can't go home," she says. "I pretty much have to remain where you can find me, forever, or until some miracle - I mean, an extra miracle - solves this." She pauses to consider. "You know what? As much as I miss my home, my family, a world that's not turning into a big sack of crap from Endbringers… I'll still take anything over turning into that." She takes a deep breath. "If there's anything I can do to repay you… anything at all... you only need to ask."
The first few hours of the morning are spent gathering more knowledge about Earth Bet. More details about the Chinese Imperial Union, where a cult-like State-run parahuman army, the Yangban, has become the primary tool of a restored imperial throne (...not a development you'd have predicted). India, where the parahumans are separated into two levels: The "hot" capes, who operate in public with brightly-colored costumes, and the "cold" capes, waging a deadly game of cloak-and-dagger. Sub-Saharan Africa, where legitimate governments that haven't fallen to parahuman warlords are the exception rather than law.
Closer to your temporary home, you read up more on the history of Brockton Bay. Until not so long ago, prior to the infamous gang war you've heard about, a large part of the city was under the control of a pan-Asian gang known as the ABB. The concept of a pan-Asian gang makes little sense until one considers that its undisputed leader, Lung - a man powerful enough to bulldoze over everyone's objections - was half-Japanese, half-Chinese; the sort of background that would give him cause to step all over the traditional bigotries between the groups he took over. Unfortunately, the man was also a monster with no respect for human life, who remorselessly engaged in drug and human trafficking. He is in the Birdcage now, and the world is better for it.
Dauntless had mentioned the Teeth, Marquis… Some research tells you more about the "bad old days" of the city. Before a proper Protectorate team was established here, various villains were trying to take advantage of what had been at the time a flourishing economy. Empire 88, led at the time by All-Father. Marquis, an extremely powerful bone-kinesist who had murdered his way to control over half the city's organized crime before being captured by New Wave. The Teeth, a particularly nasty and barbaric villain team, which eventually left the city after it was visited by the Slaughterhouse Nine.
The article on the Slaughterhouse Nine's visit makes mention of Grey Boy, the person Dragon had name-dropped earlier. Curious, you read his entry.
You almost wish you hadn't.
Grey Boy may have been the most terrifying member of the Nine. Not only did his incomprehensible time powers restore him whenever he was hurt, but he was able to trap victims in torturous time-loops just by looking at them - a torment that, as far as anyone can tell, appears to be eternal. Grey Boy left a trail of quasi-damnation wherever the Nine visited, until he was finally slain by Glaistig Uaine, one of the few parahumans whose scariness compared to his own.
Thousands of victims across North America, getting tortured forever. No-one, not even Eidolon, has been able to free them as of yet.
Could you?
That's one of the questions that you find yourself pondering as the time comes for your first agenda item on this morning: A scheduled meeting in New York.
A short flight later - it's just a few hundred miles - you have reached your destination. Well, actually, you're walking toward the room with Legend.
"I've been reading the reports from Brockton Bay. It looks like you're making a big difference, very quickly," he smiles. "Your discoveries about powers, though… They're disturbing. The chief-director will want to have words with you after the main meeting."
"I imagine," you say. "The source of parahuman abilities remains as much of a mystery as the mutant powers of Earth Gimel. If we had any clue toward its origins, we'd make it a priority to learn more."
A minute later, you are meeting with the PRT's chief-director Rebecca Costa-Brown, several of the PRT directors who answer directly to her (Emily Piggot included), Glenn Chambers, and Legend as the head of the Protectorate. Costa-Brown and several of the directors are appearing via telepresence, but most people showed up in person.
While she is not entirely without criticism, you can tell that Piggot's review of your stay in her city is more positive than the others expected. Glenn also has good things to say: "Since Leviathan's death, fourteen villains and six rogues across the US and Canada have thrown in with the Protectorate. That's without counting a few who are clearly insincere. It may sound like a small number, when we have to deal with thousands of villains, but it's a non-trivial shift in the balance of powers - especially if it reflects in those who trigger from this point onward.
"To a lesser extent, the trend also follows in other nations. Speaking of which… I do believe we have an opportunity to expand international cooperation. Negotiations with the Mexican government to have them join the Protectorate have been progressing at a snail's pace for the past six years, but, if the Avatar were to resolve their current drought… I think that would be the final nudge needed to cement the deal.
"However, the Avatar has expressed an understandable interest in not being seen as a pawn of national interest, and I don't think the Protectorate would benefit from being seen as holding him back. As such, giving him our blessing to aid nations we are not on such friendly terms with should avoid various troubles in the future."
"You're referring to the Nigerian drought," says one of the directors. "While I'm sure handling it would be good for PR, I think we need to discuss other possible applications." He steeples his fingers. "Intervening with other countries' villains is politically tricky, especially when those villains become the new governments. But what about those who are nigh-universally agreed upon as being rabid monsters? Take Moord Nag - she slaughtered a village of 700 three days ago, and has a body count approaching five digits, mostly civilians. Every faction in Namibia is terrified of her and praying she'll just go away. If the Avatar can take Leviathan, I would be very surprised if he couldn't take her, too… and she doesn't have any claim to political legitimacy or rulership. Yet."
Another director seems dubious. "If we start attacking warlords in foreign countries, we will be seen as overstepping our bounds."
"There are ways around it. We can negotiate with the current factions in Namibia, have them request an intervention. Heck, we can just give the Avatar permission," he turns toward you, "as I assume you're not too keen on letting mass-murderers slowly take over countries."
You can see where this is going. The PRT does want you to fix the problems of the world - in part because it reflects well on them as long as you remain a member of the Protectorate, and in part because the less the world in general is falling apart, the easier the PRT can defend North America. At the same time, they also want to keep you happy in the Protectorate, since they are well aware of what a vital asset you are. As such, they are basically giving you input - presenting a menu of options.
They'll insist on the Mexican drought - that's the one item on the agenda that's truly important for the PRT. But as for the rest… you are getting special leeway in choosing what to do.
Choose one:
[ ] Deal with the Mexican drought, but not the Namibian one quite yet - you should focus your attention on the Big Bads at this juncture.
[ ] Deal with both droughts. It's the world in general that needs to recover from its terrible state.
Choose one:
[ ] Dealing with international villainy needs to be done at some point, but it's still early for it. You'd like some more time to learn about this world and gain international goodwill before doing anything that the international community might find controversial.
[ ] Moord Nag has murdered thousands of men, women and children. She doesn't get to get away with it just because she's not in the same country as the one where you first showed up. You've stopped many supervillains before, and she's next on the list.
[ ] The people of the world deserve to live in peace. For that to happen, the monsters need to be driven back into the darkness. You can take down Moord Nag… and three other vicious mass-murderers around the world who have come up in your research.
Choose any:
[ ] OK, you'll deal with these matters, but… you also want to check up on Grey Boy's victims. You've never dealt with time-loop traps before, but you'd like to try and see if you can save them.
[ ] You're actually a pretty fantastic diplomat yourself. Going in person to meet with various ambassadors and potentates might smooth things over considerably.
[ ] Write-in.
