A Devil Amongst Worms

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Dreams Shattered. Defeated. Eaten
A Seven-Fingered Hand drops Makima in Brockton Bay during the Leviathan attack
Chapter 1
Worm and Chainsaw Man belong to their respective owners and producers. I do not possess any claim on either franchise.




Makima





I'll start with the Miso Soup.

Oh! I can dig it. Mm-hm~

Next, Ginger-Fried Meat and Onions.

That's pretty good!

So this is how you taste, Ms. Makima.




Makima collapsed to her knees, head cradled between both hands as a scream of pain threatened to escape her throat. Only the self-discipline she had ironed for several decades saved her from embarrassing herself even further.

The honking of cars, the crying of children, the crashing of raindrops, and every decibel of noise surrounding her in tens of miles radius crashed into her ears with the force of a nuclear warhead. Even the most minute of sounds, whether the shift in the sand behind her or the rustling of leaves a city away, nearly deafened her. She almost wished it would if it could save her from this misery.

Even her other senses were not left untouched.

Her sense of smell had always been superior, even when compared to dogs. But now? It was incommensurable. She could smell the salt, sweat, rotting trash, unwashed bodies, and even scents left behind years ago. It was nauseating to the extreme and left her gagging. She nearly suffocated as she heaved and groaned, bile almost escaping her gullet.

She raised her face to the sky, hoping the angle of her body would help keep down her stomach contents. She regretted it immediately. While her vision was not as overwhelming as the rest of her senses, it was a subtle difference. When Makima gazed at the sky above, she could see each grain of sand… On the moon.

What is this?! What have they done to me?

The last thing she could clearly remember was being cut apart by Denji with the following a blur. She could recall the sound of water boiling and meat cooking but that was it. Makima did not know where she was or what was wrong with her.

If it were any other person, whether they be human or Devil, the sensory overload would have ruptured every cell in their brain. But Makima was the Control Devil. Her Control over others was great but her Control over herself was greater still. And most of all, she refused to be seen in such a pathetic state. Part of it was vanity, but her nature recoiled at the thought of being seen as lesser.

Counting down to ten, she forcibly slowed her breathing and closed her eyes. She ignored the noise, she shut out the smell, and focused solely on the rhythm of her beating heart. With every breath, her senses became not weaker, but more controlled, similar to how pupils can dilate or contract depending on the distance of the view. In a matter of seconds, the range of her senses that had once encompassed a city waned until it was only a kilometer radius. It was still far greater than what she was used to but trivial compared to what it was a few moments ago.

The first thing she noticed when she regained her wits was that she was surrounded by people staring at her in confusion, worry, and caution. She grimaced, feelings of humiliation bursting within her heart at the thought of having seen when she was at her lowest. Makima briefly considered killing them to hide her shame from the rest of the world before she noticed how strange they appeared.

Makima was by no means unfamiliar to strange. She hunted Devils for a living, and her kind came in all matters of weird. But these people… The word "strange" was not enough to describe their utterly bizarre outfits.

One person wore what reminded her of a brown potato sack as a robe and held a wooden stick in his hand like some Tolkien wizard. Another flew in the air, defying gravity while wearing a white dress with what looked like a tiara on her head as if she were a storybook princess. Others were wearing capes and… was that man wearing a spandex?!

If not for the fact that layers and layers of forcefields surrounded her, she would have thought she was at a costume party.

The second thing she noticed was far more devastating, and not just to her vanity. Her contracts were gone—every last one of them. Nothing remained, whether from those she had enslaved or the contracts she had formed with humans. And that, more than anything, shook her to the core. The loss of her contract with the Prime Minister was especially tough to swallow. That single contract had nullified all damage inflicted upon her and was critical to her invincibility. It was the reason why entire nations had given up on facing her. Without it, she could be killed even by ordinary humans.

As Makima contemplated the severity of her situation, she felt a gloved hand grasp her shoulder from the rear. She turned, nearly lashing out in surprise before restraining herself at the last second.

"Are you okay?" Asked a man wearing a white and blue bodysuit, not realizing how close he had been to death.

A domino mask hid his eyes, but Makima could read the concern in his expression. Once again, she was forced to realize just how stupid they looked. The purpose of a mask was to hide a person's identity, but how was a piece of fabric over one's eyes supposed to achieve that?

From the man's accent and the murmurs of the other costumed individuals, she could tell they were American which only added to the number of questions she had. At first, she had assumed that they were Devil Hunters. But while they smelled human, they were not contracted to any Devils, nor were they Devils themselves.

Yet, they displayed abilities well beyond what humans should be capable of.

Surrounded in an unfamiliar environment with unfamiliar people, Makima wisely chose caution.

"Tidal wave incoming!"

With a curse, the man in white and blue took to the skies with several other fliers following suit. Makima turned her head toward the sea and witnessed an enormous wave approaching from miles away. The wave swelled with every meter of distance it crossed.

"Fliers get into position, barriers get ready for impact," he commanded.

Makima could admit that despite his laughable tastes in clothing, he was charismatic enough to lead. Directly above her head, a man in a skin-tight green suit and a heavy hood floated with sickly grey energy emanating from his hands.

All around her, the costumed humans burst into action, whether evacuating the vulnerable or preparing to defend against the coming wave. In comparison, Makima laid on her knees, lost in thought as the waves grew closer and closer. By the looks of it, this was not a simple storm. A storm would have evacuations, not hundreds of super-powered defenders. More likely, these people were here to fight whatever was controlling this wave.

"Hey there pretty, I'm here to get you out of here. Hold on tight," suavely said a grinning man in red spandex as he reached out to grab Makima. Without sparing him a glance, she slapped his arms away, more as a reflex than of any ill intent. Unexpectedly, the moment the back of her hand touched his arms, bones snapped and the confident grin turned into a rigor mortis of pain.

Screaming, the man leaped back; his left arm bent while the other had been blown clean off. Makima's eyes widened in surprise. She had merely tried to brush him off in refusal, not hurt him. She could only stare as the red-suited hero flew away in retreat as blood flowed down with the rain before turning her attention to her own hands.

By all rights, she should have fled. Without her contracts, she was vulnerable. Yet, she did not run. Despite losing a great majority of her abilities and her immortality, she did not feel weak.

No… she had never felt more powerful.

She had not noticed previously due to the overload on her senses and other pressing concerns, but now with her mind cleared and her heart calm, Makima could feel the changes within her body.

It was not just her senses that had become stronger. She intuitively understood that the potency of every ability she possessed as the Control Devil had increased by several orders of magnitude. She could feel the power that thumped in her heart and the strength that burned within her veins.

This world… It was not her own… She realized that now. The fear of Control in her world was minuscule compared to that of this one.

The dread that permeated the very essence of this world was like thick ambrosia to her lips. It was so intoxicating and maddingly sweet that a single taste would send her into euphoric bliss. She savored the flavor and for a moment, she wondered if this was what it was like to be drunk.

She was at her most vulnerable, yet she felt invincible.

All around her, shouts of encouragement and battle cries roared as the wave was now but a hundred meters away. But despite their bravado, they were palpating in fear.

Makima loved every second of it.

She stared in wonder at this new world. She had thought her banishment was a consequence of her defeat but no… This… This was a gift… One that she would fully embrace in this land of wonders.

The Control Devil raised her hand at the incoming tsunami.

"Bang."



Legend



He had been present during the emergence of superpowers, faced Endbringers, led teams of heroes, fought against villains, and witnessed countless varieties of esoteric powers. Legend had thought he had seen it all. But he never expected to see a massive seven-fingered hand descending from a gate-shaped portal from the skies above.

Legend and his fellow defenders, be they heroes or villains, tensed. His first instinct was to blast it before clear rationale took hold. Powers came in all shapes and forms. It was more likely that the hand was a power of an ally coming to join the battle.

However, this was an unknown parahuman, and he could not afford to have surprises in the middle of an Endbringer battle. If the parahuman turned out to be hostile, it would lead to devastating consequences.

"Do not engage, I repeat, do not engage. Form a quarantine around the unidentified parahuman. Blasters and brutes, be ready to intercept," ordered Legend. When nerves were high, it was better to have clear, concise orders that people could follow. It would help ease the tensions and prevent the more trigger-happy parahumans from inciting a needless conflict.

Almost immediately, the defenders moved to obey as barriers of all shapes and colors sprang to life, surrounding the falling hand. Blasters who could fly took to the skies while those who could not found vantage points from which they could safely fire. Brutes stood behind the forcefield, acting as a second line of defense in case hostilities broke out.

When the seven-fingered hand touched the ground, it was imprisoned by a wall of barriers and vulnerable to dozens of blasters. But to his surprise, the hand opened and from the palm dropped a red-haired woman.

Legend was caught off guard for the second time since the Endbringer alarms rang that day. Not by the oddity but by the woman's beauty. Although he was gay and was happily married to his partner, seeing her brought back questions of his sexuality that he had thought were answered. She seemed to be of mixed blood based on her red hair and slightly Asian features.

But what was most troubling was her attire. Cauldron had started the trend of parahumans wearing costumes to create a fictional fantasy straight from comic books. The story of good vs. evil helped civilians ignore that there were individuals who could bend a person in half at a whim while reassuring them that they had protectors against villains. It was done to prevent the non-powered normals from massacring parahumans that were needed to combat Scion.



But costumes also served a secondary purpose. To hide the identity of the parahuman. Yet, the woman who looked like she descended from the Heavens both literally and metaphorically wore a business suit complete with a tie without even attempting to mask her face. It signified multiple implications, none of which were good.

As soon as the hand dropped the woman, it left, returning to the gate portal above.

"A mover power of some kind?" Mumbled Legend to himself as he relaxed. It was undoubtedly one of the strangest powers he had seen.

Suddenly, the woman dropped to her knees, hands clutching her head as she doubled down in pain. Alarmed, Legend prepared to move in to assist until a firm hand grasped his arm.

"Don't," warned Alexandria. "We don't know who this woman is and what powers she has."

Legend frowned. "She needs help," he pointed out.

"Parahumans in distress tend to lash out. We can't risk losing you at this juncture."

He glared at his friend and colleague for several moments as the desire to do the right thing warred with logic. Legend knew she was right, but it irked him to be so coldly rational regarding lives. In the end, he cursed but acquiesced.

When Alexandria saw that her message had gotten through, she released him. Legend turned back to the woman; fortunately, she seemed to have recovered from whatever was ailing her. Without glancing at the brute, he shot down to the ground, reaching the red-haired woman's position in less than a second. This time, Alexandria did not attempt to stop him.

"Are you okay?" He asked, gently placing a hand over her shoulder.

The woman turned as if struck, facing him with wide eyes before calming down so quickly that he thought he imagined it.

Instead of responding, the woman studied him closely, glancing at his costume and the surroundings. He was used to being at the center of stares as one of the world's most famous heroes, but her gaze was not one of awe but curiosity. Almost as if she did not recognize him. That alone rang alarm bells in his mind.

Her eyes passed to Myrrdin, then at the young girl from New Wave, to Eidolon, and all the other parahumans on the scene. Her face was emotionless, and her eyes unreadable, but her body language was unmistakable. From how she was taking in her surroundings as she stared at the city and its defenders, it was clear that she had not meant to be here and instead, had been transported against her will.

If that were the case, she should be evacuated with the civilians. Whether she had powers or not didn't matter. He had no intention of throwing a civilian into an Endbringer fight. Without the will to battle, she would only be another casualty. It was not just his empathy that was speaking. Someone whose courage broke during combat was worse than useless. They were a liability. Nobody should be here without preparation in both body and mind.

"This is Legend, we have a potential civilian on the premises, have a mover escort her to safety," Legend ordered through the console. But a commotion stole his attention before he could see his order completed.

"Tidal Wave incoming!" Shouted a protectorate hero from Chicago.

Legend whirled around and saw the beginnings of a growing tsunami in the distance. There was no sign of Leviathan but knowing that scaly bastard, it would not be far from the wave.

He shot to the skies.

"Fliers with me! Barriers form a wall!" Legend ordered as he silently wished the red-haired woman good fortune and hoped that one of the heroes would get her out of this soon-to-be battle zone. He was not too worried, however. People were more likely to help a woman if she was beautiful, which sadly applied to heroes as well. With her looks, he wouldn't be surprised if they lined up for a chance to fly her to safety, even during a crisis.

By the time a phalanx of forcefields was formed, the wave had nearly reached them and was now over a kilometer tall.

"BRACE!" He shouted as he saw Eidolon move to the front, glowing as he prepared to stop the wave in its tracks.

Even for him, a veteran of hundreds of battles, the moment before the clash was the most frightening. But the defenders held, despite being ants before the tidal wave. Every Endbringer battle was like a rendition of Goliath and David. If life were a storybook, David would emerge victorious against all odds. But life was a sad reality, and Goliath would be the winner once more.

He was not oblivious to the sweat that dripped from the brows or the trembling of the hands of those who were here, ready to protect the city. Even a blind man could see the terror and anticipation that thickened the air. He too was afraid, although he did not show it. In times like these, the image of a brave man could be far more reliable for morale than brute strength. It was why he, not Alexandria or Eidolon, ran the protectorate. Despite their fears, the defenders did not flee even though this moment could be their last. And for that courage, they had his respect regardless of their profession. After all, what was bravery if not the will to do the right thing even when afraid?

The wave was now mere seconds away. He saw his fellow parahumans grit their teeth from the corner of his eyes as they prepared for the incoming collision.

Legend silently counted down, forming an imaginary timer that ticked every second.

Five…

Four…

Three…

Two…

On-

"Bang."

With the sound of a thundering impact, something invisible and formless crashed into the incoming wave. And with the crash, the wave split. A massive empty circular hole formed in the center while the two lateral sections of the wave fell ineffectively back into the sea right in front of their very eyes. What should have been a colossal collision was reduced to an artificial wave at a waterpark.

It was as if Moses had split not the sea, but the wave.

The silence was deafening, even under the pounding of the rain.

"Eidolon? Was that you?" Asked Alexandria through the console, her voice surprisingly uncertain despite her usual confidence.

David did not reply and only stared at a distant figure among the defenders.

Legend followed his gaze and saw the red-haired woman pointing at the seas with a… finger gun? Well… He certainly wasn't going to judge whether or not it was some strange power-based mechanism or something done for theatrics. He had seen much stranger after all, thought Legend as images of a particular mouse-themed heroine flashed across his mind.

The red-haired woman's face which had been contorted in a mask of pain and suffering just minutes ago was now replaced by a smile of glee and delight.

"I think I know who it was. It's the woman who came with that giant hand," said Legend.

"What?! Dragon, give me an ID!" Ordered Alexandria

"I have searched, but she does not fit anyone in the known database," answered the tinker.

Alexandria swore. "So we have an unknown capable of stopping Leviathan's tidal waves. A new trigger?"

"Perhaps," admitted Dragon. "But I meant all the databases, including that of civilians. There were no matches with the facial recognition software anywhere in the world whether from government IDs or picture takes from social media."

"Great…" Muttered Alexandria in both concern and frustration.

Legend empathized with his fellow hero. He was well aware of the capabilities of the world's greatest Tinker. If Dragon could not find that red-haired woman, it would be because she didn't exist in the digital world. Such a large information blackout was something to be wary about.

Suddenly, the sea exploded, interrupting Legend mid-thought.

Hundreds of thousands of gallons of water erupted from the sea and sailed into the sky. The relief from the tidal wave's destruction evaporated as a literal lake descended over their heads.

Water, despite popular misconception, was heavy. Most would not consider getting hit by water to be painful, but the force generated by several hundred thousand gallons falling from that height would be enough to flatten most brutes and shatter even the strongest of forcefields. Even if some did survive the initial impact, the turbulence would drown them; if it didn't, Leviathan would finish them off.

With a single move, the battle was lost.

"Bang."

But with the utterance of a word, a colossal hole appeared in the water above, just as it did on the tidal wave. It was large enough for the defenders to cluster together and survive.

Legend sighed in relief but soon realized he had once again let down his guard too soon when the remaining lake exploded mid-air into billions of thick droplets of water that encompassed the entire battlefield.

For a moment, Legend feared that each droplet would strike with the force of a bullet. However, the following shower felt no different from the typical heavy rain. While the droplets were dense enough to obscure his vision, they would not have even killed an infant. Forcefield users formed shields above their heads like umbrellas while others weathered the downpour.

What is he planning?

None of this made sense. Endbringers, while powerful, always followed a specific pattern, albeit with a few minor deviations. Never once had Leviathan deployed a strategy remotely like what he had just witnessed. And that, more than anything, terrified Legend.

Humanity had been able to drive back Endbringers despite the difference in strength solely because they learned to exploit these patterns. It was like fighting a boss in a video game. While the enemy was far stronger and more durable than the playable character, it always followed a set pattern of attack dictated by their A.I. If Endbringers decided to break their pattern… it would accelerate the destruction of civilization. No one would show up to Endbringer battles and every time these monstrosities appeared, it would be a city lost.

"Leviathan spotted, he's heading for the woman!" Reported Dragon through the console.

Legend did not need to be told which woman she was talking about. His eyes shot to the ground, searching for a head of red hair. But the dense shower of artificial rain blinded him from the rest of the battlefield. By the time he spotted her, Leviathan was mere meters away.

Why? Thought Legend as he poured everything into his attack, even as Alexandria dove to intercept.

Leviathan only attacked after multiple waves had scattered the defenders. For it to engage personally after only a single wave was unheard of. Furthermore, it had demonstrated a terrifying new tactic and when that failed, turned the remains into a cover that hid his approach until the very last instant. It revealed a frightening amount of tactical thinking and adaptability. While the liquid fog by itself did not hurt, it masked Leviathan's position and that, not the tidal waves, was the greatest danger.

Why? Thought Legend once more.

The Endbringer could have used this new strategy to close the distance and turn most of their grounded defenders into swaths of red. Yet, it chose to ignore them, flanking around the front line and making a beeline for the woman, not even bothering to attack those in the way.

Had the woman disturbed him that much? To the point it would escalate?

To Legend's growing horror, his lasers that had made the beast flinch in the past did nothing to slow its advance. Alexandria, despite her speed, was too slow and Eidolon needed time to switch powers.

The woman was a blaster. The portal ability most likely belonged to somebody else. It was unlikely that someone with such a strong blaster power would also have such a potent mover power as well. And by that logic, it was unlikely that she would have brute ratings that would allow her to survive Leviathan's onslaught.

He could do nothing but watch the woman die.


-------
Just one word.
REVIEW!!!!!
 
It was not just her senses that had become stronger. She intuitively understood that the potency of every ability she possessed as the Control Devil had increased by several orders of magnitude. She could feel the power that thumped in her heart and the strength that burned within her veins.

This world… It was not her own… She realized that now. The fear of Control in her world was minuscule compared to that of this one.
Huh, honestly an interesting take. People in worm really are absolutely terrified of being controlled, be it by some master whackjob with delusion of grandeur and all the way to Simurgh. Devil hierarchy is completely changed and all over the place here, just for a silly example, a solid fear of small blonde girls. I wonder what specific devil represent specifically fear of Endbringers
 
Chapter 2
Beta-Read by: Name of Love



-Chapter 2-








The Control Devil twisted low as a five-fingered talon sliced through the rain and air alike and narrowly brushed against her eyes, the tips mere millimeters away. She dispassionately observed without so much as a flinch as the dagger-like nails split the falling droplets, trying and failing to do the same to her flesh and blood. But while her visage was as tranquil as a lake on a summer day, she was well aware of how close she had been to death.

When the falling lake exploded into a shower of rain so dense that it was a liquid fog in all but name, she had immediately raised her guard. The rain shower was thick enough that she could not see past a couple of meters, even with her newly enhanced vision.

Makima had correctly recognized this tactic for what it was, a smokescreen. Ambushing the enemy when it was blind was a common strategy used by both Devil Hunters and Devils alike. While her vision had been rendered useless, her hearing was more than enough to cover any deficiencies. But despite being fully aware and ready to respond to every attack from any direction, she was almost slain on the spot when a clawed hand pierced through the rain fog like a lance aimed at her head.

She should have easily been able to hear the assault coming, even with the deafening noise generated by the heavy pounding of the rainstorm. Something of that size should not have been able to move so silently so quickly. Yet, she heard nothing until it was almost too late. Fortunately, while her assailant could silence its approach, it could not do the same to the altered air currents generated by its movements. It was a minor change, too small for most to notice even if they tried. But Makima was able to deduce the direction of the attack by detecting the shift in the trajectory of the rain.

Even as she avoided the talons, her instincts screamed in alarm as she heard the whistling of a whip racing toward the back of her head. Makima dived forward into a roll as a 40-foot-long tail swept over the empty space where her waist was a moment ago.

Whatever this thing was, it was relentless in its attacks. Every time she dodged or parried a blow, it would slink back and hide before striking under cover of the fog once more. Even now, she could not hear the creature's footsteps much less pinpoint its position. When she tried to advance, the creature disappeared. When she tried to disengage, it would cut her off. Unable to attack or retreat, Makima was forced to be a sitting duck where she could only defend.

The only silver lining was that her assailant fought like a hunter facing a dangerous animal. The reversal of roles was an irony not lost on Makima and would have been amusing if she wasn't so pissed. Rather than a full-frontal assault, it struck periodically, launching probing attacks as if to test her limits. None of its attacks besides the first was particularly dangerous. But once the hunter finishes probing and prodding his prey, he would inevitably come for the killing blow.

She was proven rights moments later.

After dodging another set of talons that tried to stain the puddles with her blood, Makima studied her surroundings, closely watching every droplet of rain for any sign of disturbance in the airflow and listening for even the faintest sounds in the air. But the creature seemed to have deemed this game of tag pointless.

She expected another slash of a talon or the whip of a tail but instead got the full-bodied charge of a 15-meter-tall behemoth.

She hastily leaped back, trying to create distance but its size belayed its impressive speed. Within a microsecond, it closed the space between them with its arms spread as if to give an embrace.

Makima could not retreat. Its charge was far faster than she could move. Nor could she evade to the side. The claws would rip her into shreds if she tried and trying to jump over the creature was suicide. All paths to escape lead to death without exception.

Even under the constant pressure of her demise, the smile never once left her lips.

Those who seek life shall die and those who seek death shall live.

When all paths to life ended in death, Makima sought death.

Devil and Monster charged as the world held its breath.

But the moment before the impending collision, the Devil dropped to the ground. She slid over the water right in between its legs before recovering with a forward roll, simultaneously avoiding another swipe of its tail. Unhindered by its failure, the creature pivoted around its foot and became a hurricane of water and limbs, chaining every strike with another with such fluidity that Makima was forced on the back foot.

Whatever this thing was, it was unlike anything she had ever faced. It was nowhere near as fast as the Gun, but it was the fastest opponent she had ever met in a melee. It was not as lethal as the Darkness, but a single mistake would end her just the same. The ferocity of its attacks and the savagery of its relentless offense reminded her of the Chainsaw.

At first, she thought that her opponent was a Devil. Perhaps even a Primal. But the creature's scent was nothing remotely like anything she had smelled before. It was so utterly alien that it fascinated her. If it hadn't been trying to kill her, she would have liked to watch it from afar and study it.

Makima flexed her legs as she prepared to evade another set of talons. But this time, the beast halted its attack, an echo of water forming where its claw should have been and continuing its path toward her head even as it spun and lashed out with its tail, aiming at her legs. The tail was too low to duck under and the water echo too high to jump over. So she leaped between the two attacks, narrowly avoiding being cut into three pieces.

It galled her to admit, but even with her exponential increase in power, she was still slower and weaker. However, speed and strength were just two of many factors in deciding the victor in battle. While the creature was fast and possessed numerous dangerous abilities along with tactical acumen, its attacks were predictable. It did not attempt to feint, and it did not try to deceive. Its strikes were always faithful and honest. The creature attacked as fast and hard as possible, hoping to overwhelm its opponent. But despite its simplicity, it was effective. From what Makima had seen so far, she had no doubt it would easily be able to take down a vast majority of combatants.

However, Makima was not among the vast majority. She was a veteran of a thousand battles and accustomed to facing opponents that outmatched her in physicality. While its speed was a problem, her kinetic vision could clearly track its movements. What she could not see, she heard and if all her senses became unreliable, her finely honed instincts would warn her of any and all danger.

Fist smashed against claw as she parried the latter to the side as it attempted to bifurcate her from the head down. The claws cut through the ground harmlessly, but the attack was not yet over. The creature smoothly changed its failed hammer strike into a horizontal sweep at her feet, forcing Makima airborne to avoid becoming a legless stump of flesh. For the first time since the battle began, she met the gaze of six piercing green eyes that had broken the wills of many a man.

Damn! She cursed internally.

The talons passed harmlessly beneath her feet, but it was a hollow victory. While not a mark marred her skin, she was now vulnerable in the air as a fish out of water. A vulnerability that her enemy wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of.

And it didn't.

The creature smashed down with its head intending to mash her flesh and marrow into the dirt and mix her blood with the water. But Makima had no desire to go along with its wishes. She would not allow this creature to be her killer. Only one was worthy of such an honor and he was not of this world.

In the brief second before the impact, she fired the invisible force at the incoming head. For a moment, the creature stalled as it struggled with something without form. But only for a moment.

Struck with the force of a bullet train, she crashed into the ground, barely landing on her feet as she was sent skidding back a dozen meters. Her attack was a pitiful thing, having had little time to strengthen it. But it had done its job in buffering the blow. The arms that had shielded her form throbbed with pain as she detected multiple lacerations within the bones.

For the first time, the ever-present smile on her lips turned grim. Slowly but surely, she was being overwhelmed. Its attacks were nothing complicated, but that sadly did not equate to stupidity. Ever since their first clash, the beast had struck 37 times. All of which she had managed to avoid or parry with varying degrees of success. However, every following attack came closer to reaching her than the previous. It was adapting to her speed and skill and taking steps to counter them at a horrifying speed.

The worst problem however, was that Makima could do nothing but defend. While her powers were enhanced, her mind had no chance to adjust to the changes in her body. There was always a lag between the mental command and physical actions, making her movements clumsier and slower than they should be.

Furthermore, she was unable to find an opening to retaliate due to the difference in speed. With the loss of her immortality, she could not afford to take risks and was unwilling to test her newfound durability against this creature. She had survived so far due to her skill and experience but if she failed to find a way to turn this battle around, her defeat would not be an if but a matter of time.

Makima tensed as the creature dropped on all fours, every limb rippling with power as it prepared for another charge. She searched her surroundings, formulating an escape plan but it was for naught.

At one moment, the beast was still. At another, its claws were but a mere meter from her face. Her eyes widened in shock.

Fast!

She could not dodge.

There was no escape.

The blow could not be parried.

Teeth clenched in frustration, bitterness filled her tongue as her end inched closer by the instant. Mere minutes after arriving in this new world, the Control Devil had lost.

As her life grew shorter, memories of her defeat against Denji flashed across her mind. She almost screamed in frustration as the humiliation of her past and current failures that had been digging into her consciousness became unbearable. But more than anything, the knowledge that she would never experience the joy and happiness of a family nearly broke her in spirit and mind.

And that, above all else, was unforgivable.

For the first time in her life, Makima knew rage.

She forgot her loss, she ignored her failures, and she slew the ache in her heart. She knew nothing but what she desired.

And this thing was in her way.

With anger came focus and with focus, clarity. As if a veil had been lifted from her eyes, she could see. As if her limbs had been unshackled from the Earth below, she was free.

One by one, the world disappeared. The worms writhing on the ground, the rats scampering in the sewers, and the birds flying in the sky until all that remained of her world were two.

The Control Devil swore. Never Again.

Makima moved.

Far faster than she ever did, far swifter than she ever was, she ducked under the talons and advanced beneath its reach. Left foot stepping deep within her opponent's guard, Makima swung her right fist, rotating her hips along the trajectory of the strike and twisting her legs to add even greater momentum. But even as she struck, the second set of talons whistled in her ears. Fist raced against talon in a game that would determine the continuation or end of a dreamer.

But before a victor could be determined, a caped missile slammed into the beast from the side with a thundercrack, sending it sprawling through the sand and crashing into a building. The reversal was so sudden that she was almost stunned.

Almost…

Makima threw herself at the creature with a burst of strength at speeds resembling teleportation to the untrained eye, wasting no time in seizing the opportunity presented to her on a silver platter. In a flash, she flanked the nine-ton monstrosity as it was trying to recover. Despite her near-instantaneous movement, her foe was not blindsided and lazily lashed out with its hand as if trying to swat a fly.

Slow, thought Makima as she easily dodged. Just a couple of seconds ago, she would have been forced back from that same attack. But now? Something had clicked. Her mind and body that had been so disconnected no more than a few seconds ago were now working in harmonious unity. Every movement was crisp and every thought was as crystal. Her body moved with such fluidity and precision that water itself was put to shame. The creature's strikes that had once been overwhelmingly quick now just seemed pathetically slow.

Positioned behind the creature, Makima twisted, spinning with the grace of a ballroom as she added momentum to the kick that could sever the Earth. Her foot smashed into the back of its knee, cracking and tearing through its skin and flesh with such force that it was forced to genuflect in repentance like a sinner before God.

Despite faltering, the creature struck back, thrusting its tail to spear the back of the ant that had caused it so much trouble. But for all its speed, it was just not fast enough.

Makima uppercut the head that had been brought so low, caving her fist deeply into its chin and shattering and scattering its flesh into the dirt pools formed in the soil. Like a bird in the sky, it flew. High and wide into the air, unshackled of the filthy world below.

For a moment, the creature seemed at peace flying with the birds of its flock but its tranquility came to an end as all things typically do when hundreds of lasers illuminate the world and slam into its back. With an earsplitting bang, it crashed into the Earth as the trails of light continued to strike its reddening skin in a never-ending barrage.

Before the behemoth could even begin to rise, it was engulfed in light orange smoke that flowed far too rapidly to be natural. With the strike of a match, the smoke combusted into a massive inferno that hungrily devoured all matter within a dozen-meter radius.

Even as the gluttonous flames raged, lasers, beams, and projectiles were blasted where the creature was shackled, every hit adding to the damage dealt. Any of these attacks would have wounded even Devils, but Makima knew it was far from enough.

Her kick should have separated its leg from knee down. Her punch should have blown a hole in its head. Yet its leg remained attached and its head without a hole. She had struck with all her strength, but the damage was merely cosmetic. It was far more durable than she had imagined.

She was proven correct moments later when the creature burst through the hailstorm of fire. Its skin was broken, blackened with ash and coated with caked mud but otherwise unhurt. Its eyes were torn away but there was not a single discrepancy in its movements. Despite being surrounded on all sides by enemies and its body being slowly but surely drilled away by the incoming attacks, there was not a single sign of desperation or worry in its gait.

Unconcerned with the threats to its life, the creature's remaining eyes were fixated on only one.

Under different circumstances, Makima would have been flattered.

The creature punched with its fist despite the considerable distance between them. Its limbs fell laughably short but where the fist stopped, the echo continued, flying with a speed and force that eclipsed a missile's.

But this time, Makima was ready.

"Bang."

Her invisible force struck down all before it. Whether it was the rain or the air itself, nothing was permitted to remain.

Force met missile, and one was obliterated. The creature was struck perfectly in its abdomen and sent back to whence it came with a sonic boom, the sea splitting as it sliced through the water.

Silence engulfed the field.

"I don't want to jinx this, but did… did we just win?" Asked a woman poorly dressed for combat.

Makima did not know if the woman was just stupid or naïve. She had merely bought the defenders time to reorganize. They were no closer to victory than when the first tidal wave had struck. All they had accomplished was breaking the creature's skin without a single drop of blood to show for it.

At this point, she wasn't even sure if the creature had blood or was made of flesh and bone. When she struck the creature, it felt like she was punching several tons of titanium that grew denser the deeper it got rather than something living. Without any way to inflict real damage, chances of winning the combat were slim to none.

A caped woman descended from the skies, landing none too gently next to Makima. From the whispers around them, Makima learned her name.

"Who are you?" Asked Alexandria with an edge in her voice that bordered on hostility. It was phrased as a question, but the tone was that of a command expected to be obeyed.

A flash of irritation crossed Makima's eyes at the woman's insolence before it was reigned in by reason. This was no time to be argumentative when the creature could return any moment nor would she lower herself to bickering like a prepubescent child. Furthermore, despite the ridiculous taste in clothing the woman had saved her life, so Makima allowed the transgression to go ignored.

But really… Capes?

"My name is Makima," she replied, answering the question without answering anything. The lone Devil was stranded in an alien world without support. She knew little of this world and even less of its people, making it dangerous even with the boost to her abilities. The Control Devil needed to reveal as little as possible while collecting every bit of intel she could.

Even with a mask covering her face, Alexandria seemed visibly frustrated at the non-answer. But before she could continue, the man in white and blue interrupted.

"Take this," said the man, holding a metallic armband. She recognized him as the man that had tried to help her before the battle had begun. From the jumble of voices she had heard in passing, Makima had deduced this was Legend.

Even during the heat of battle, Makima had listened to her surroundings trying to make sense of what was happening. She had heard names like Chevalier, Eidolon, Myyrdin, and Hookwolf. Some names were more juvenile than the rest, but she had managed to form a conclusion based on the information she had gathered.

The Control Devil was in a superhero movie.

She had borrowed the senses of animals to examine the city and its inhabitants who were mostly concentrated in underground bunkers, so she knew that capes and tights were not typical fashion trends in this world. Adding on to these fictional names that were obviously pseudonyms, although ridiculous as it was, there was only one possibility.

If these people were Superheroes, was that creature called Leviathan a Supervillain?

"Do you believe it will return?" Asked Makima as she accepted and equipped the armband.

Legend sighed, "I do not know. Normally Leviathan would have retreated by now, but it broke too many patterns today. It's hard to predict what will happen next. Speaking of which, it seemed to be strangely obsessed with you. Would you know the reason why?"

"I'm sorry, but I have no idea."

That had been bothering Makima as well. There were plenty of other targets, yet Leviathan had solely focused on her. Her biology and scent were identical to that of humans. Even Devils could not differentiate them. Yet, had Leviathan seen what the entire Devil race could not? Even if it did, it was no reason to be so fixated on her.

Makima was shaken out of her thoughts when a feminine voice spoke through her armband. "Multiple waves inbound."

"What?!" Shouted Alexandria and Legend in near unison.

As the voice warned, Makima counted no less than a dozen tidal waves rapidly approaching land. Each wave grew incomparably faster than the first. At this rate, Makima estimated that every wave would be at least ten kilometers long by the time they struck.

All around her, screams and curses resounded as the defenders fled in panic. Their bravery and courage were shattered by an offense they believed to be unsurmountable.

"Fliers take who you can and evacuate! We need Strider here asap!" Commanded Legend. Despite his voice's calm, collected tone, he reeked of fear.

Alexandria made to grab her, but Makima caught her hand.

"What are you doing?" Demanded the superheroine. "We need to get out of here!"

Her warnings fell on deaf ears.

From what Makima had observed, none of the people here had anything that could hurt Leviathan. Retreating with the rest of the defenders would be the wisest option. But Makima could not run. The beast had been targeting her relentlessly. There was a good chance that even if she fled, it would continue to pursue and potentially reach her when she was alone.

The Devil was not blind to what would happen if she tried to fight. She was confident in her ability to escape through teleportation but she refused to be hunted down like a dog. She would defeat this creature. She would end this threat. But she needed allies.

Makima raised her hands, her left supporting the right. A finger was pointed at the waves.

"Bang."

A wave collapsed just like it did with the first. But a dozen more remained and would reach her within the minute.

She turned, pointing to another.

"Bang."

Then to another.

"Bang."

"Bang."

"Bang."

"Bang."

"Bang."

"Bang."

With every syllable, a wave was silenced.

Within seconds, the tsunamis that had threatened to entomb a city in a liquid grave moments ago drowned beneath its own waters.

"Holy shit," muttered someone in the crowd that had stopped fleeing when the waves had started falling.

All around her, stares of awe surrounded Makima. She had grown accustomed to being seen with fear, respect, and even lust. But this? This was a new experience even for her.

And it didn't feel half bad.

The ground exploded as hundreds of rocks of varying weights pelted in all directions at near supersonic speeds, crushing any flesh in their way. Despite his speed, even the man known as Legend was not spared as his legs were vaporized.

Within a fraction of a second, over a dozen were killed instantly while many more were mortally wounded.

And from the explosion came Leviathan, covered in dirt but no less horrifying as it swung at Makima.

Even as she turned, the Control Devil knew she could not dodge.

And this time, no one saved her.

With a sickening crunch and a squelch of blood, a backhand wider than she was tall connected at her side, crushing bone and pulverizing flesh.

Makima flew hundreds of feet into the air, crashing through buildings and wooden poles that did little to slow her flight.

She lost count of how many walls she had crashed through or how many times she had bounced off the ground until she came to a stop in a small house.

The feeling of pain was familiar to her. But even she would admit that this hurt.

There was no intact bone in her body, and every organ was pulverized. But somehow, she was still alive. A hit like that would have killed her a thousand times over if it were not for her newfound durability.

Somehow, even though there was more brain outside her skull than inside it, Makima still retained her cognition.

She cursed her carelessness. Whatever that thing was, it was far more cunning than she had anticipated. The tidal waves were nothing but a distraction. It had used the turbulence generated by the chaotic sea to camouflage the vibrations that resulted from drilling through the ground until it could spring its ambush.

This was bad. While she had survived, it was impossible to move. Makima could not escape if that creature came to finish her off. Even if it didn't, it would be a matter of time before she succumbed to her injuries.

A sound of whimpering caught her attention.

Makima strained her head with what remaining intact muscles she had left to see the source of the sound with her one remaining eye.

A young red-haired girl in a fetal position cowered in fear and horror at the remains of Makima's body. She was a pretty little thing, not even past the age of maturity and so full of life with an entire future ahead of her.

If the Control Devil still had her jaw, she would have smiled.

I'm in luck.

The girl exploded in a geyser of blood as Makima extended her tongue to catch the falling droplets. The moment the bits of red landed on her tongue, sweetness exploded across her taste buds as she relished the flavor.

Almost immediately, her flesh regenerated and her bones reconnected. Whatever was missing was replaced as her crippled body mended and fatigue was cleansed away. Within seconds, it was as if she had never been hurt.

Her contract with the Prime Minister made her innate blood-based regeneration obsolete, so it had been decades since she had last tasted blood. She had almost forgotten how delicious it was.

With her wounds healed and stamina regained, Makima stood again, ready to fight.

Suddenly, she turned her gaze into the far distance. Staring at something…

Or someone…

"Well isn't that interesting."



-----------

I am looking for chapter reviewers so if you have a good grasp of English grammar and have knowledge of Worm, let me know if you are interested. This is the first fight scene I have ever written so please tell me how it was
 
Not actually familiar with Chainsaw Man, but if it's anything like how your writing makes it seem I'm going to have to check it out.

You're neatly threading the needle of making the Makima seem powerful without Worf-ing Leviathan, and doing it in a compelling narrative style. I can't wait to see where this goes.
 
I'm definitely a fan of this. She's clearly powerful, but she's hampered by not knowing the local rules/standards, and you've done an excellent job of both doing that and still having Makima act intelligently despite ignorance. Well done!
 
Huh, honestly an interesting take. People in worm really are absolutely terrified of being controlled, be it by some master whackjob with delusion of grandeur and all the way to Simurgh.
That is a huge part of Makima's power boost but she also represents the fear of Domination and Conquest. Worm is riddled with parahumans and organizations fighting for dominion, whether they be the PRT, Gangs, Machine Army, Nildbolg, Yangban, and etc so that adds on a hefty bonus to her strength as well.

Not actually familiar with Chainsaw Man, but if it's anything like how your writing makes it seem I'm going to have to check it out.
I do recommend you read the manga or at least watch the Anime. MAPPA has done an amazing job with the adaptation.

I'm definitely a fan of this. She's clearly powerful, but she's hampered by not knowing the local rules/standards, and you've done an excellent job of both doing that and still having Makima act intelligently despite ignorance. Well done!
That is great to hear! I was never a fan of intelligent characters behaving stupidly in fic.
 
Chapter 5
Beta Read by: Name of Love and Axiomatict

Alexandria​





Makima Deceased

Rosary Down

Battery Down

Sun Dancer Down

Apotheosis Deceased

Rebound Deceased

Cricket Deceased

Lady Photon Down

Velocity Deceased

Narwhal down

Assault Down

Manpower Deceased

Glory Girl Down

Stratos Down

Cinereal Deceased

Legend Down




Scarlet rage adding to her already earth-shattering strength, the Greatest Superheroine cursed even as she buried her fist deep into the Second Child's gut with enough power to bend the nine-ton monstrosity at his waist. Shockwave after shockwave erupted in the air, dissipating any after echo and shattering windows a city block away as his skin splintered and his flesh crumbled.

Not a thing made by man could withstand her strength and the number of parahumans that could survive her could be counted on one hand. Despite his immense durability, Leviathan was slowly but surely being chipped away.

While the scaled bastard would never show something so human as a flinch, he defended his wounds almost in desperation. A sure sign that he was in pain and evidence that his kind could be hurt.

Alexandria was not delusional enough to believe this city would be his grave. But she took grim pleasure at the Endbringer's sufferings even though it did little to abate her anger.

Twisting around a clumsy swing of a clawed hand, she returned the failed attack with a successful one, smashing him through any structure that had the misfortune of being in the way.

He's slowing down.

The difference was barely noticeable, but every attack was just a millisecond slower than the previous. Leviathan seemed to be damaged to the point that his wounds were hampering his movements.

"Who do we have left?" Alexandria asked through her armband.

"It's just us, Chevalier and Armsmaster. Dragon's suit was destroyed, but a backup will arrive within 6 minutes from Boston." Myyrdin answered.

She winced—five parahumans against an Endbringer with only one among the Triumvirate. Legend was severely hurt and Eidolon was occupied with holding back the waves.

The odds were terrible, and fighting would have been an elaborate suicide if they weren't the cream of the crop within the Protectorate. But while she was confident in their strength, chances of mortality were sky-high even if all they had to do was buy time for the defenders and PRT personnel to evacuate.

"Good, rendezvous at the Medhall building. We will hold there," said Alexandria, without hinting at her thoughts.

"Understood… Just be safe. We don't know what Leviathan will do next."

Instead of responding, Alexandria nodded in agreement, although no one other than Leviathan was around to see her. She was uncertain how long she could keep her inner turmoil out of her voice.

This battle was an absolute disaster, although not for the reasons one may suspect.

The city was doomed the moment the morale of the defenders broke. Leviathan's overwhelming offense had rattled their hearts and his ambush had shattered them. Alexandria was only here to defend until the PRT and Protectorate could finish salvaging whatever resources remained from this failure. Beyond that, nothing else mattered, whether it was the civilians or the city itself.

Brockton Bay was the ground for a social experiment conducted by Cauldron to analyze the effects of parahuman feudalism. But besides that, this shit hole of a city had little value beyond the powered residents that resided in it.

The massive casualties incurred among the defenders from Leviathan's rampage were harder to swallow. So many had been wounded or killed in such a short amount of time that Dragon was still listing off names.

But those losses would soon be replenished. Millions would die from this defeat, but she did not doubt that it would serve as the trigger event for the birth of many more parahumans.

Legend… Her mood somehow soured even further.

His powers allowed him to instinctively enter his breaker state in which he could avoid injury. But Leviathan's ambush had caught him unprepared.

She only hoped he survived long enough to be brought to Panacea. The premature end of a million lives was a triviality to someone so accustomed to death and destruction but even she could not bear the thought of losing another friend.

But even his life mattered little in the endgame despite her feelings.

The only things of consequence were the changes in Leviathan's behavior. It was an utter nightmare of unimaginable proportions. At this point, the only way the situation could become even direr was if its siblings followed suit or if Scion decided to continue the cycle early.

She was not one for wishful thinking or even an optimistic individual, but she desperately hoped this would be an isolated event.

Because if it wasn't…

Cauldron and even some within the Protectorate had theorized that Endbringers were holding back. Or at least not fighting with their full potential.

Leviathan could create tidal waves from miles underwater where it was invincible, yet it rose to the surface to enter a battle where it could be hurt.

Behemoth could create earthquake after earthquake deep beneath the crust and there would be nothing humanity could do.

Simurgh could ruin cities with her telekinesis or drop a tinker tech bomb that would make nuclear warheads seem like firecrackers long before any hero could respond but she didn't.

Other than speculations, nobody understood the motives of Endbringers. Why did they take turns attacking at intervals every three months if they wished to destroy humanity? Why did they give humanity a fighting chance?

That woman named Makima was most likely the cause of the escalation, but Alexandria still did not understand why. Without a doubt, the newcomer was strong. Very few could stand toe to toe with an Endbringer and come out on top and none, not even Eidolon, could stop Leviathan's waves so easily.

If she had survived, she could have been a valuable piece on the board that could have turned the tide in future Endbringer battles. But her appearance had heralded this disaster and she had died after leaving the world covered in shit.

It was cruel and unkind to speak of a person who had died a hero. But the moment Alexandria laid eyes upon her; she was struck with a wave of indescribable displeasure.

Makima was beautiful and akin to a piece of art dedicated to something beyond mortality. But while others may have seen perfection, Alexandria could only see the Simurgh.

It was not well known; it was in fact something she kept secret from the public, but she possessed multiple minor Thinker powers such as accelerated learning. Chief among them was the ability to read human micro-expressions, something she used extensively as Alexandria and Rebecca Costa-Brown.

Micro-expressions occur in a fraction of a second and convey involuntary emotional leakage of a person's true thoughts. To control them was impossible.

Yet, Alexandria could not read Makima's. Or rather, there was nothing to read.

Even when she collapsed to the ground in pain and even when she fought Leviathan, her visage was like a waxen doll.

Oh, she showed emotion all right.

She smiled, frowned, and went through the steps like any normal person, but there was nothing in between. She wore expressions like a person would wear a mask and watching her was like viewing an animation. Something that was drawn on a film rather than made of flesh and blood.

But powers were diverse. Her lack of micro-expressions could be the result of her ability. But even if that was true, Alexandria found her smile to be even more disturbing.

She was a veteran of countless battles, but she had yet to see anyone smile when under attack by an Endbringer, much less possess that level of calm. Anyone who would smile during a battle of life and death were those who had multiple screws loose. The type that was better off dead than in the bird-cage.

In a way, she was glad that the woman had died. The world was terrible as it was; it did not need another Jack Slash.

Alexandria's knee cut deeply through Leviathan's eyes, causing its head to snap back from the sheer impact. It swiped at her flying form with its talons, but she twisted, twirling in the air and adding momentum to a spinning kick that crashed into its already ulcerated chest. Leviathan tumbled through the air, spinning multiple times before coming to a stop after slamming into Medhall in an explosion of dust and bricks.

With another burst of speed, Alexandria flew straight, winding up her arm for a right hook aimed at its temple. However, the dust obscured her vision and she failed to spot the tail above her until it slammed her into the ground. She grunted, in surprise rather than pain. Before she could regain her bearings, a webbed foot buried her further, crushing through the gravel and dirt with the same efficiency as a powered drill.

Alexandria struggled, trying to break free. In terms of raw strength, Leviathan was her inferior. She should have easily been able to dislodge the foot.

But to her horror, her arms and legs were pinned in positions where she could not leverage her vaunted strength. An alien sensation of panic filled her heart as she screamed in exertion, trying to escape to no avail. While brute force alone was not enough to harm her, drowning was a realistic fear and the tomb Leviathan had dug for her rapidly filled with water.

She was forced to watch helplessly as the water level rose from the bottom of her head to her ears, and then her nose.

With the heavy rainfall, it was only a matter of seconds before Alexandria was completely submerged.

Panic evolved into full-blown terror as she thrashed, desperation overriding her sense of reason as she resisted with all her strength as the specter of death came ever closer. But her struggles only hastened her ending as what little air she had left was spent.

She did know how much time had passed, but her lungs began to scream.

When the need became too great, Alexandria reflexively gasped for air, only for her lungs to be filled with water and dirt. When the fluids passed through her bronchial, unfamiliar pain exploded across her chest as if it was torn to shreds and burned like a hot coal.

Even as her strength waned, the pain steadily climbed in a crescendo as the moments passed, reaching a point where she tittered on the edge of blacking out from the suffering, increasing in intensity until…

Nothing.

The pain vanished as a sense of tranquility took her. She had forgotten the last time she had felt such peace. The pool she had desperately fought to leave now felt like a warm blanket, comforting her from her worst fears and sorrows.

And she just felt so… tired…

Part of her knew instinctively that she must not sleep. But she could not bring herself to care.

Just for a moment, she promised herself. Just a short rest

Her vision faded into darkness.

A hand gripped her by the collar, roughly pulling her up, and shoved a cylindrical tube deep down her throat.

Alexandria coughed and spluttered as the tube forcefully emptied her lungs of fluid, allowing her to take a greedy gasp of air.

"Are you all right?" Myyrdin asked, kneeling by her. His voice was tinged with worry.

She did not answer and glared.

"Right… Stupid question."

Moving to stand, she shoved him out of the way. But her legs felt weak as the days before she met Doctor Mother and collapsed onto her knees.

A pair of arms caught her.

"Take a break for a minute. Get back your bearings before you join back in; we will hold for as long as we need to," he promised before flying away to join the clash above the pharmaceutical company that was slowly becoming a ruin.

Her vision was blurred, and her mind felt blank. But with every breath, her senses and cognition refocused as oxygen again enriched her veins. Her limbs rapidly regained strength, but it was still a far cry from her peak.

Every inch of her burned with the desire to repay Leviathan for this offense a hundredfold. But as she was now, with her strength sapped and her mind fogged, she was a liability. One that could lead to a fatal error for herself and her team.

With her hands so thoroughly stained during her time in Cauldron, she had thought there was nothing left to take pride in. But being forced to watch on the sidelines reminded her too closely of her earlier years—the time before Alexandria when Rebecca Costa-Brown was nothing more than a dying teenager.

This was no time to be distracted, but the near-death experience had triggered unpleasant memories of her past. She quickly shook herself out of her thoughts and focused on the battle. Even as she rested, her body was coiled like a spring, ready to enter combat at the slightest signs of things going south.

Leviathan lashed his tail at Armsmaster's head with the crack of a whip, only for Chevalier to impose himself in between. He caught the offending tail with the blade's edge that dug shallowly into Leviathan's skin. Despite the immense difference in size, Chevalier held his ground, only skidding back a few feet from absorbing the impact.

Armsmaster waved around Chevalier, halberd in each hand and retaliated with a slash of its own, aiming for the most damaged portion of the tail. Leviathan snapped his appendage back almost in panic and the blade hit nothing but rain. Unhindered by his failure, Armsmaster continued to advance.

As Chevalier swung left, his cannon blade expanding many times in size, Armsmaster flanked right.

When Leviathan raised his arms to block the massive blade from cutting into his torso, Armsmaster plunged his halberd into the Endbringer's leg. The head of his halberd crackled with static. It sank deep into the limb and heavily lacerated his flesh even as he brought up the second shorter halberd to parry the retaliatory strike.

The Endbringer reared back in pain, placing the damaged leg behind the other protectively before leaping away from his assailants.

But from his rear flew Myyrdin. A trail of light flowed behind his staff, and with a flourish, lines made of white formed into a symbol directly in the path of Leviathan's retreat. The second Leviathan came close to the simmering fractured light; the symbol detonated into a shockwave that launched it directly into the course of a fifteen-foot-long blade that clotheslined the Endbringer at his throat and slammed him into the ground.

Even on his back, Leviathan moved with predatory instinct as he flipped back onto his hind legs and lashed out with both talons at both Knights.

While Chevalier absorbed the blow with his blade and armor, Armsmaster had been in motion long before the attack had even begun. He jumped multiple meters over the slice with superhuman strength and landed behind Leviathan's leg.

Armsmaster crouched low, knees touching the ground as a massive limb swung clean past his head. He twisted, spinning with the grace of a ballet dancer and swung his halberd at the same area he had previously stabbed with inhuman precision.

The blow connected.

The crackling energy from the spearhead expunged a large mass of flesh as it entered and exited the Endbringer's body forming a cloud of dust in its wake. The stab and the slice from the halberd had removed nearly a fifth of his flesh around the leg. Leviathan retreated as black blood poured from his wounds.

"You stupid beast," Armsmaster taunted. "There is nothing you can do against me. I studied every fight you've been in and put it through my programs. I've already completed the algorithm of your every move, and my sensors can read every change in the terrain a city block away. I know what you will do even before you do."

Sneering, he crossed his halberds together and thrust them to the side, deflecting the claws that came with a vengeance and pivoted to his right as a stream of water shot past his head.

Armsmaster laughed, "What did I say, you scaled reptile? You can't touch me."

"What are you doing?" Chevalier hissed. "This is no time to be fooling around!"

Without bothering to glance at his ally, Armsmaster answered. "Winning."

The Bearded Knight twirled both his halberds, the ends facing the wary monster. From his long spear fired a grappling hook aimed not at Leviathan but at the empty space at his side. The moment it passed the Endbringer, a miniature propellant fired at its side, changing the hook's trajectory mid-air as it circled Leviathan before tightly wrapping around his legs.

Leviathan slashed at its bindings, but the rope held without a mark to everyone's surprise.

"It's time locked. Do you think I would try to hold you with something you can break out of?" Armsmaster mocked as he fired a second grappling hook from his short spear that crunched into a wall behind Leviathan.

"No Armsmaster, don't!" Chevalier warned to no avail.

Armsmaster shot forward, skidding across the water as the grappling hook pulled him towards Leviathan at astonishing speeds. Several tons of water shot at his side, seeking to flatten his flesh. But Armsmaster spun his halberd with the tip pointing at the incoming wave and flipped a switch. White flame erupted from the spearhead and crashed into the water, turning the attack into vapor as he continued his course unmolested.

"Damn it, Myyrdin support him!" Chevalier shouted as he ran in pursuit of his comrade, albeit far slower.

As soon as Armsmaster was within reach, Leviathan wasted no time slamming down both fists. But it hit nothing but dirt.

With the burst of a rocket, Armsmaster propelled himself into the air and flew over the massive fists. Releasing the shorter halberd, he held his remaining spear in a reverse grip in both hands.

Roaring in fury and exertion, Armsmaster plunged his halberd deep into Leviathan's head and allowed gravity to do its work. As he fell to the ground, the halberd remained embedded within the flesh and cut a long vertical line from head to groin as blood burst out in gallons.

Leviathan tried to escape, but his bindings held firm, and he fell onto his knees. Armsmaster wasted no time cutting down with a downward sweep onto the same leg once more. The nano-thorn cut even deeper as its blade carved more flesh away by the microsecond.

"Victory is mine, abomination. Know the name Armsmaster because it will be the last name you will ever hear." He boasted.

"I don't know Chevalier. He seems to be doing fine," said Myyrdin, his voice colored with awe. "If I interfere, it may disturb whatever he is doing."

"He's using the bloody prediction algorithm he and Dragon built. But the data he used to create that was from before Leviathan started throwing waves by the dozen. The algorithm is based on outdated information and has too high of a chance for failure!"

"Leave him," Alexandria ordered.

"What?" Chevalier asked in surprise.

"With his tech and the rest of our allies, we could have driven off Leviathan with certainty. But that fucking glory hound neglected to mention that he had a weapon that could seriously hurt an Endbringer and we called a retreat, putting this entire city and millions at risk," Alexandria growled in evident anger. "We now have a chance to save this city and while letting Armsmaster fight alone is dangerous, it is a risk we must take. If he wins, good. If he loses, then he got what was coming for him."

"But he's the one who built that weapon! If he dies, then we lose his tech!" Chevalier protested.

Alexandria shook her head. "I've spoken with Dragon. She possesses the schematics of the nano-thorn and can replicate it herself along with his prediction algorithm. If things start to go badly, we will intervene. But until then, watch."

Chevalier began to protest but was silenced when Dragon spoke from his armband. Alexandria could not hear what was said but was satisfied when Chevalier made no move to assist.

In the meanwhile, the battle between man and monster raged. Armsmaster was a whirlwind, slashing and stabbing at every given opportunity. Leviathan had managed to untangle himself from the cord but was in no better position than before. Every one of his attacks was dodged, parried, or even negated while it suffered wound after wound. As blood splashed across the floor, Leviathan began to back away in fear.

"Running, are you? Can't take on someone take can fight back? Someone that can hurt you? Coward!" He spat as he ducked under the tail while simultaneously slicing near its tip. Where the halberd connected, flesh turned to dust as several feet of Leviathan's tail was amputated and sent flying into the ruins.

"You won't escape. I will not allow it. Not until your head is mine to collect!"

As Leviathan turned to run, Armsmaster pointed his halberd at the fleeing beast and the tip expanded into a barrel. With the crack of a gunshot, a grenade was expelled and sailed past Leviathan before detonating into a black hole.

With the birth of a singularity, Leviathan was dragged in even as he tried to resist by stabbing its talons into the ground.

As the rain, air, and even light were sucked in, so was Armsmaster.

Unlike his opponent, he did not attempt to resist and willingly allowed himself to be pulled in. But before he could be ripped to shreds, the black hole ceased to exist.

While the singularity had failed to damage Leviathan, it had held the Endbringer in place. And more important, accelerated Armsmaster into speeds he could not have achieved alone.

"Hah!" He roared as he swung his halberd, mid-flight, at the same leg he had cut half a dozen times before.

Momentum adding to Armsmaster's strength, the nano-thorn almost instantaneously dusted half of the remaining flesh and… came to a stop.

"What?" Armsmaster asked, stunned.

He pulled back with all his strength, but the halberd remained firmly lodged within Leviathan's leg.

"How..." Muttered Armsmaster, almost in a whisper.

Something flashed, and both arms fell to the ground along with the two halves of his halberd. Armsmaster screamed in agony as he dropped to his knees, his blood mixing with the rain and the Endbringer's own. A clawed hand almost gently seized the fallen knight and slowly brought him up a mere meter away from his eyes.

For a moment, Armsmaster stilled. His own eyes met the gaze of the enemy he had believed he could kill. Whatever he saw within those glowing green eyes, he did not like it. Not one bit.

Armsmaster screamed and kicked his feet, desperately trying to break free from the hand that had bound him. But it was a fruitless task.

Leviathan squeezed.

Armsmaster was silenced.

But the Knight of the Halberd was not dead. Leviathan's grip had shattered his ribs and expelled whatever air he had in his lungs. Armsmaster's armor should not have lasted a second, yet the man remained alive despite being in obvious pain. His mouth was open as if to scream, but his lungs were empty. It seemed that the Endbringer had a bit of a vengeful streak and wished to return every torment to the tormentor.

And while Alexandria wished for the same, there were more important things than her satisfaction.

She dropped from the sky, axe kicking Leviathan so that his head smashed against the ground. The moment he was immobilized, Myyrdin captured Armsmaster and stored him away in his pocket dimension before hastily flying away from the reach of a set of talons.

"Take the fool to safety," Alexandria ordered as she soccer-kicked Leviathan into the ruins of the Medhall building.

Myyrdin merely nodded before taking flight.

"Well, that went well…" Chevalier snarked as he took the position below her.

"Yes, it did."

"What?" Chevalier exclaimed in confusion.

"As stupid and arrogant as he was, Armsmaster has done well." She admitted, albeit with hesitance. "Leviathan has never been this hurt before and his movements are becoming sluggish. His injuries must be hurting him. At this rate, we should be able to drive him off before the waves become too much for Eidolon to handle."

"And Armsmaster survived in the end, so I guess it works out," said Chevalier.

Alexandria did not reply.

Chevalier sighed. "Look I know that Armsmaster messed up. He'll be appropriately punished for his idiocy but he's not that bad and things are turning for the better."

"As he should. But enough of that for now, the man will be dealt with once this is over. We still have a battle to win."

In an explosion of dust and bricks, Leviathan burst from the ruins and charged, throwing a full-bodied after-echo at both heroes before moving to the flank. The 30-foot tall after-echoes, each weighing multiple tons crushed through any cars or debris as they made their way. Despite being made of water, their collective mass and momentum would be enough to scatter anyone regardless of durability. Most parahumans, even villains still had to obey some laws of physics.

If the law of physics was a judicial law, Chevalier would have a life sentence.

Chevalier swung his blade, the large lump of metal growing several times its size and several meters in length. The sudden increase in size should have thrown the man off balance, yet the sword remained as light as a feather and moved with the same ease. But right before metal met water, the blade that could have been held in a toddler's finger suddenly weighed as much as a train while moving at the same initial speed.

The blade, moving with enough power to cut through buildings instantly dissipated both after-echoes one after the other upon contact. Holding on to something with that much momentum would have sent anyone flying at the end of the swing regardless of their strength. But fortunately, the blade's weight became that of a feather once more.

Shrinking his weapon to a much more manageable size, the sword became a cannon. Chevalier flicked the tip and fired.

Too clumsy to dodge, Leviathan had his leg was penetrated by the shell. Black blood burst out as his gait was rattled, sending him toppling over and crashing into the ground. But to his credit, he immediately rolled to a stop as his after-echoes generated multiple tons of water with every movement. Water that he fired in a wave at the incoming Superheroine.

While the wave could have killed most parahumans, it was far too pitiful of an attack for someone like Alexandria. Without bothering to dodge, she crashed into the water with such speed that her slipstream changed the direction of the wave. Her fingers plunged into the gapping caverns that had formed on his face due to the courtesy of a certain halberd-wielding knight. With a grunt of strength, she flipped the Endbringer over her hand and smashed it down head-first into the hard pavement.

Leviathan stood upside down, his head planted deep within the concrete as his limbs were sprawled limply in the air. Alexandria stomped down on his exposed chin as it had done to her, rooting him further into the ground. He was not the only one with a vengeful streak.

He's slow.

It was one thing to observe and another to experience firsthand. Attacks that Leviathan could have easily dodged earlier today were now landing with room to spare. The predatory grace was gone and he moved like wounded prey, favoring his one relatively intact leg over the badly mauled one. Despite her misgivings, Alexandria could admit that Armsmaster was competent at his work.

Things were going astonishingly well. Never had beating down an Endbringer been this easy. Yet, her visage was marred by a frown.

Leviathan was a mass of blood and gaping wounds from one end to the other. There was not an inch of him that had not been broken and his body was missing massive chunks of flesh in every nook and cranny. Rather than a nightmare, he resembled a holocaust survivor.

But…

By observation, Leviathan had lost nearly a third of its mass so by logic, he should have also lost a third of his weight. Yet, when she threw him, he weighed almost exactly the same as before.

Now that she thought about it, there were a number of factors that seemed contradictory. But analyzing intelligence was the job of Thinkers and not something she should be doing during a fight. For now, she would make do with beating the living daylights out of Leviathan.

A tail whipped around her neck, trying to grab it like a strangling cord. But instead of her neck, he caught an arm. Latching on top of the tail with her other arm, she heaved, plucking the Endbringer from the soil like a farmer would do to a radish. Twisting in the air, she slammed him into walls of one of the few standing buildings in the vicinity, then down into the ground, and back to another wall, over and over again until Leviathan wisely released his grip over her.

When he tried to stand, her fist greeted him. When he tried to attack, she answered with her fist. When he tried to escape, her fist kept him in place.

Chevalier stood beside her, cutting down any wave that sought to interrupt.

Every blow shattered his flesh, and through him, the ground. The vibrations from the impact could be felt from miles away. Leviathan's blood splattered across her helm and stained her clothes, some even splashing through the exposed openings in her mask and reaching her eyes. The knuckles of her glove have long been worn away and whatever black fabric that remained was dyed even darker as bits of his skin found themselves lodged within.

Alexandria found herself adopting a pattern. The deafening boom generated from each punch rang in the city's remains like the rhythmic beating of war drums. She found the melody oddly satisfying as her stress and frustrations melted away into something she had not felt in many years.

Hope.

Leviathan was dying.

Even as she pummeled the Endbringer several dozen meters underground, shattering every stone foundation in a quarter-mile radius, Leviathan panickily tried to retaliate. But he was too slow and weak. She easily dodged his desperate attempts and whatever blows he managed to land were too soft to turn the tables.

Alexandria lost track of how long she had been hammering away but Leviathan's face was a broken mess and entirely unrecognizable. Every eye was gouged and his face was covered in cracks and empty pits.

Her surroundings were in even greater disrepair. Whatever buildings that had survived the initial fight had now collapsed. Brockton bay was built to weather storms and disasters, but it could not survive the series of continuous Earthquakes that Alexandria had generated. Most of the stone pavement and the road of what was once a populous center of business was more sand than stone and she doubted that there would be anything solid larger than a foot within her vicinity.

Leviathan flapped weakly, getting slower and weaker with every blow that landed until he ceased resisting at all.

The Sinker of Cities… laid still.

"Is… Is he…?" Chevalier began but the words died before they left his lips. Disbelief and excitement colored his voice. He stared at the unmoving body of the creature that had been responsible for the deaths of millions and the fall of nations.

Alexandria did not respond. But while she did not show it, she was certain she felt no different than her once protégé.

But her years of devastation and hopelessness had built more than a healthy amount of skepticism. While she prayed that Leviathan was indeed dead, she could not bring herself to truly believe until he was ripped into pieces that could be stored in Tupper wear containers.

She knocked her hand back for another blow. Taking a deep breath, she clenched her teeth and struck down with all her strength. An impact that could shatter mountains and alter landscapes descended on Leviathan's head…

…and hit nothing but dirt.

"What?!" Alexandria only had time to exclaim before something assaulted the back of her skull, faceplanting the superheroine into the same ground that Leviathan had resided in moments before.

Coughing up mounts of dirt, Alexandria turned to the sky.

Leviathan stood above her.

His body was a sad fractured mess, a miserable sight to behold.

Yet, all Alexandria could feel was fear.

She exploded into action as her liftoff flung every piece of loose dust and stone into the air. Shooting straight into the sky, she threw an uppercut that would send Leviathan fly-.

Huh?

With her back to the dirt, she stared at the sky.

Why am I on the ground?

A fist slammed into her body, far too fast to see and far too strong to block. Leviathan was a hammer to her nail that splintered the wood called Earth.

A colossal blade sliced at Leviathan's head, but with impossible speed and grace, the Endbringer flipped over the steel before slamming his foot down on Alexandria as he fell.

And with his fall, the Earth shattered and the water rose.

From every gap in the crumbling stone, from every crevice in the fallen bricks, a hundred thousand gallons of water exploded into the air and engulfed the ruins in a dome.

For the second time that day, Alexandria was drowning.

Panic and adrenaline cleansed her fatigue and gave her strength. She wasted no time grabbing Chevalier and flew with all her speed to whatever exit there was. As long as she went on a straight path, she should be able to escape this prison.

She briefly spotted something massive from the corner of her eyes before a tail connected against her abdomen. With a sonic boom, Alexandria slammed into the pavement as the ground exploded in a bomb of dust.

Alexandria could have sworn that she had never been hit that hard in her life. Even the hits from Behemoth seemed paltry in comparison. Leviathan had never been capable of hitting anyone hard enough to break the sound barrier but he had done so in the water where it required five times the velocity than in the air.

Even if they were underwater, Leviathan's body was crippled. He should not have been able to move much less generate that kind of force unless…

She shook herself out of her thoughts. This was no time to contemplate. Alexandria cursed as she flew in the other direction away from Leviathan with her fellow hero before she noticed something was off.

The greatest superheroine looked down.

Only an arm remained in her grasp.

Alexandria reeled back in shock and horror. Before she could begin to process what had happened, Leviathan hammered her once again into the ground. The water did little to reduce her speed and she hit the ground in another explosion of dust. She immediately took to the water as if she were shot from a cannon. She had no time to search for Chevalier's body or mourn his death. Every second was precious.

But no matter how fast she flew, Leviathan out-sped her by miles. He moved with both fluidity and power as if his damaged form was but an illusion. No matter where she went, Leviathan was there ahead of her as if teleporting and slapped her to the side as if she was a pinball. When speed did not work, she contested with strength. But to her shock and surprise, she was weaker.

For the Nth time, an explosion of dust dyed the water.

She did not get up.

What was the point?

Alexandria laid on the ground, surrounded by a practical ocean. But it had none of the ocean's beauty—only trash and filth. Leviathan floated above her motionlessly, seemingly content with letting her drown.

An armored corpse; twisted and bent, passed by her eyes. She closed them in sorrow.

Only after giving up did she accept reality.

Rebecca knew that Alexandria would die here.

And with acceptance came understanding, paving the way for realization.

It was all a lie.

Leviathan had played them like fools.

Those movements… That strength… It should not have been possible as broken as he was. At the moment before she was trapped, Leviathan had displayed physical abilities that were far beyond that of his prime.

Then why?

Why did he let me-


A bitter laugh escaped her throat, wasting invaluable oxygen and shortening her life. But Rebecca could not bring herself to care.

He was using me to break the ground's foundation, allowing him to bring water underneath to the surface.

Strangely enough, she found it rather amusing that she was the instrument of her own demise.

Now that she thought about it, it was strange that Armsmaster's halberd remained stuck inside Leviathan's body when it had easily disintegrated everything it touched. She had previously dismissed it as a malfunction, but now she wasn't so sure.

While she was not a tinker, she understood the principles of the weapon that had bled Leviathan. Rather than an actual blade, the nano-thorn was a cloud of nanoparticles that cleaved away at the subatomic bonds of atoms, thus separating matter into individual nanoscopic bits. If the weapon failed to harm Leviathan's inner body, then that would mean the subatomic bonds were too short for even the nanoparticles to cut.

In conclusion, his interior was denser than the exterior.

That would explain why Leviathan lost so little weight despite losing so much of his body. If the interior was that much denser, then it would have far more mass than the exterior, thus retaining most of his weight even when he lost volume.

If she had stopped for a moment to think, she would have quickly realized something was wrong. But even with her experience, it looked like she was still vulnerable to tunnel vision. The possibility of slaying an Endbringer overrode her sense of judgment and now she would die with the rest of Brockton City for the error.

Her approaching death did not bother her as much as she thought it would. Dying was too good for someone like her.

While she acted with the singular purpose of preserving humanity across every dimension, her intentions did not wash away her sins.

But she did not regret what she did, only that she had to do it.

Rebecca Costa-Brown closed her eyes for the last time…

And opened them again at the sound of a whirring engine.

Snapping her head to the side, she was greeted with the sight of Myyrdin riding on top of a Dragon suit.

Fool!

She cursed his idiocy. This was suicide!

Rebec-… No… Alexandria shot to meet her rescuers. While she made peace with her death, she could not allow one of her few remaining friends to die in vain.

But Leviathan disagreed.

At near teleporting speeds, the Warden met the intruders, talons sharp and ready.

However, neither Myyrdin nor Dragon were sheep to be slaughtered.

Dragon unleashed a full salvo of missiles in every direction. A light blue glow colored the water as hypersonic projectiles saturated every inch, making dodging an impossibility.

But Leviathan dodged anyways.

With astonishing agility, the Endbringer twisted and turned around each and every missile, avoiding them often by a hair's breadth. But the missiles bent mid-flight, changing directions and rapidly surrounding their target.

With a deafening boom, they detonated, creating currents so powerful that Alexandria who had been the furthest away was almost knocked off course.

Powering through the explosions, Leviathan continued. He was slowed, but not stopped.

Dragon charged, meeting the Endbringer head-on as she fired a beam of plasma. While her attack cut through the water like a hot knife to butter, it didn't do more than splash across Leviathan's skin like water.

Unfazed, it struck, far faster than the eye could track.

As its talons cut through metal, Dragon exploded into a ball of blue fire so intense that the space around the explosion was emptied. Even Leviathan, despite his home-ground advantage, was forced back.

But it was still not enough. With one intruder down, Leviathan changed his target to the second.

However, while Dragon could not inflict damage, she had bought invaluable time.

Time for Myyrdin to act.

Simultaneously, two massive cracks half the size of Leviathan opened in the water.

One shone in brilliant white that illuminated the murky waters.

The other glowed a sinister black.

Right before claws could dice the Wizard into four, the white symbol detonated into a shockwave that repelled the Endbringer as the black symbol opened a dimensional tear into a vacuum so strong that Leviathan could not escape its pull.

With the Warden momentarily immobilized, Myyrdin and Alexandria drew closer.

As their hands extended towards the other, fingertips touched.

*****



Alexandria gasped, taking in the air as she breathed in deeply and rapidly, awakening to the world outside. It was a shitty world, but it was better than where she was earlier. It was the second time that day she had been so close to death since the Siberian. Hopefully, this would not become a habit.

How long had I been gone?

Myyrdin's pocket dimension could only store humans for five minutes. It was conventionally a short time, but practically an eternity in an Endbringer fight.

She glanced at her surroundings and saw nothing but water other than parts of buildings sticking out of the surface. Leviathan's last attack had flooded the city's outskirts to the point that that it was more sea than land. But more importantly, there was no sign of Leviathan.

Gravel crunched behind her.

"Thanks Myyrdin, you really saved me the-." Alexandria paused, her words dying as she spoke. Myyrdin lay face down with a long deep gash running from his shoulder to the opposite hip on his back. Even from here, she could see that his spine was severed. She did not need to check his pulse to see that he was dead.

"I'm sorry…" A familiar voice spoke to her side. "Leviathan got to him before he could escape. By the time I arrived, he was already dead."

Alexandria felt nothing. Just emptiness.

She stared at the corpse of her friend as memories of Chevalier and Legend played in her mind like a broken recorder. Her breath was still as her body, showing no emotion or movement. Seconds passed into minutes as she remained as she was, kneeling on the remains of a broken building as rain thudded against her exposed skin.

She was invincible, yet the raindrops were painful.

Like the storm that comes after the calm, red-hot anger flooded her heart like a torrent, drowning her thought and reasons in a chaotic sea of emotions.

Rising to her feet, she asked, "Where?"

Eidolon did not need to ask who.

"Don't," he warned.

"Do not stop me."

She shot into the air. If Eidolon refused to help her, fine. She would find that fucker herself.

Part of her knew that it would be a fruitless endeavor. But she could not bring herself to care. She could still remember the time when she had mentored Chevalier. She could recall the day Myyrdin became one of her few friends.

She was no longer sure if Endbringers could feel pain. But even if they couldn't, she would teach them anyways.

A gloved hand grasped her shoulder. As if she had struck something immovable, she halted in the air, frozen.

"Don't." Eidolon warned again.

"We have a job to do."

"The job is over. We have finished evacuations. There is nothing else to do but retreat."

"He's badly wounded. It should not take much more to drive him off."

Eidolon shook his head. "Things have changed so much that we will need to revisit what we thought we knew about Endbringers. Leviathan will destroy the city's reservoirs within the next minute. The next wave will hit in a minute and a half. If you fight him as he is now, you will die. We will die. All of humanity will die. You swore that you would do whatever is necessary to preserve the world… Please Rebecca."

Alexandria was sorely tempted to throw off his hand.

"Legend is alive."

She paused.

"He was taken to Panacea in time to be stabilized."

The greatest superhero and heroine floated in the air, motionless.

"Let's go," she finally whispered after a long pause.

"Yeah let-." Eidolon snapped to the side, throwing up a shield just in time to catch a 30-foot tall humanoid lizard crashing into the barrier like a bird to a window.

Alexandria and Eidolon stared in astonishment as Leviathan stared back, its limbs and body splattered against the translucent wall before slowly sliding down like a turd on a windshield and falling to the earth below. She would have thought that it was an attack if he did not look so pathetic.

Endbringers did not show emotion in the conventional sense. Yet, Alexandria could have sworn he looked as confused as they were.

For a moment, the world was still.

"What the fuck?"

--------------------------





Armsmaster: "This is where you die Monster!"

Leviathan: 'Doesn't die'

Armsmaster: "Nani!"

-

Alexandria: "Leviathan is dead!"

Leviathan: "Wakes up"

Alexandria: "Nani!"

--

In the original draft, this was supposed to be a short interlude with 2-3k thousand words. But the final draft ended up being like 8k so….. oops?

Also please review the prose, plot, and etc. Is the story easy to read, is the plot interesting, and so on? I am a newbie writer so any feedback is helpful,
 
Chapter 3
This fic is a slight AU. Leviathan hits Brockton bay several weeks earlier than in canon. Also, this chapter takes place simultaneously with the events of Chapter 3. I got a lot of criticism about chapter 3 because of a lack of a certain notable character. Hopefully, this chapter remedies that. Enjoy!

Beta read by: Name of Love

-------------
-Lung-​

"This is your final chance. Once I close this door, it's the birdcage for you."

Lung opened his eyes, having dozed off listening to the chirping of the birds. It was not his usual hobby, but one had to adapt when wholly immobilized.

"Get on with it," He snorted in amusement. The threat was lackluster as the man giving it.

The nameless PRT officer scowled. Teeth clenched, he glared angrily and for a moment, Lung thought he would be struck. He usually wouldn't bother with a common grunt, but he would not allow insults to go unanswered. But instead, the man slammed the van door shut before stomping off with a curse.

For a threat to be… well… threatening, a man needed more than just angry words. They needed reputation, something a pack-and-file PRT trooper undistinguishable from the rest lacked. The amateur couldn't even hide the desperation in his voice or the fear in his eyes.

"Hey, calm down. He's just one villain. Why are you so worked up?" Asked a muffled feminine voice from outside the van.

"That one villain drove off Leviathan singlehandedly in Kyushu," the man snapped.

"Seriously? I never read anything like that on his PHO page."

"We don't advertise the accomplishments of villains and by the time he scaled to drive back Leviathan, not many were around to see it," he explained. The male guard's voice grew fainter the further he moved until Lung could no longer hear the prattling of the insignificant.

With the annoyances gone, he once again closed his eyes and rested his ears to the singing of the feathered critters, only to be interrupted once more by an exasperated voice at his side.

"What the fuck was that? Why the hell didn't you take the offer?"

Lung sighed in annoyance at the brazen rudeness of his lieutenant. The birds were far better company than her.

If he wasn't bound with containment foam while locked away with a multitude of chains, he would have left her with a broken bone or two. Perhaps even a burn to teach her the consequences of disrespect.

Instead, he was forced to settle with a glare. Usually, she would not dare show such insolence, but his bindings had given her courage.

"That could've been our way out and you blew it!"

"Endbringers are natural disasters. There is no victory in fighting them, nor is there any reason to," he tersely replied. The fools thought that he had defeated Leviathan in Kyushu. That was no victory.

This city was done for. Whatever happened out there must have ended in a disaster. It was the only reason the PRT would be transporting them ahead of schedule without a parahuman escort rather than keeping them in prison.

While he could care less about the city, he would be lying if he said the destruction of his gang and the probable death of its members didn't bother him.

It did.

Far more than he would ever admit.

Bakuda growled in indignation. "Oh, I am surrounded by literal retards."

"Watch your tongue before I rip it out!" Lung snarled.

"Oh? And how will you do that from there? You didn't actually have to fight Leviathan. You could have just pretended to agree and broken us out once you were free!"

"Deceit is the hallmark of the weak. I have no need for it."

"Yet you lost twice to some teenage bitch," she mocked.

Lung lunged forward, snapping at the woman like a viper. His black eyes changed to a molten yellow as his pupils became that of a snake's. The air grew uncomfortably hot as his body began to glow with the flicker of orange flames. To his satisfaction, the wench flinched.

But his fury dissipated almost immediately as if it was an illusion.

He laughed. "And if I remember correctly, so have you."

Bakuda flushed as fear gave way to resentment and humiliation. "She was just lucky! Once I get us out of here, I'm going to kill that bitch, her friends, and their fucking dogs!"

But she would not.

Despite his little spiel about deceit, he had not been sincere.

The Protectorate and the PRT were in shambles due to the Endbringer attacking weeks ahead of schedule. This convoy was hastily put together, and whatever countermeasures they had prepared were premature.

He was confident in his ability to escape.

But most importantly, he had no intention of allowing his lieutenant to live past the next hour.

She had failed him miserably. Whatever kinship he had felt with her due to her mixed race was trivial to the catastrophe she had brought him.

Bakuda had proposed that he break her out after taking their deal. But even the revolving door known as the PRT was not that stupid. They would have kept him in bonds until there was a considerable distance between him and the prison convoy to thwart such a possible breakout.

By the time he was free, Bakuda would be long gone and safe from his claws.

A faint voice moaned from the end of the van.

"Oh look, the birdy is awake," Bakuda noted snidely.

"What?" The feathered woman groggily mumbled in response.

The bomb tinker rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Don't tell me you have a bird brain as well."

The singer, whose fame turned to infamy, stared at her bindings as if she couldn't understand why they were there. She then turned to look at him and Bakuda in disbelief. Her visage rapidly morphed into sadness and grief as if she were about to burst into tears.

"Ugh… Please don't. The last thing I need right now is waterworks. You better not-," Bakuda paused as she pondered. "Actually… Do cry. Cry as much as you can. I could really use the electrolytes to build some bombs. But try to collect the fluids in that little dent over here.

Canary sobbed as the tears began to flow. "I thought it was all a nightmare. I hoped it was just a dream and that I would be fine once I woke up."

"That potassium better be worth listening to your life story," Bakuda muttered. "Look, you obviously don't belong here, so why the hell are you here?"

The crying woman sniffled as she wiped away her tears. "My ex said he deserved half of my earnings even though he cheated and told me I would never be anything. I was so angry that I told him to fuck himself and he… fucked himself."

Bakuda laughed. "Okay, that's pretty funny. So, you have a master power huh? Anything else? I could use all the help I can get in breaking out."

"Break out? Is that a good idea?" Canary asked in wariness.

"Bitch, do not question my ideas. Your little pea brain can't possibly comprehend what I am capable of," seethed the tinker as her face morphed into a murderous rage. "And did I tell you to stop crying? Get those tears flowing before I give you another reason to cry about."

Canary reeled back in fear at the sudden change, futilely pressing herself to the corner to create distance from the mad bomber.

Suddenly, a cacophony of chittering and beating of wings echoed outside the van, interrupting whatever words that went unsaid as the chorus overwhelmed both the sounds of the rain and the engine.

Lung frowned, his body tensing at the strange development.

Birds relied on miniature air packets between their feathers to remain warm. Like a wet jacket, wet feathers were prone to causing chills and especially hypothermia in creatures with a low volume-to-surface area ratio such as birds.

To hear so many of them when they should be taking shelter during the heavy rain… This was no ordinary occurrence.

Now that he thought about it, hadn't the critters constantly been around his premises?

"Huh, looks like birdbrain here can control birds. Who would have thought?" Bakuda chuckled.

No… If it was Canary, their escort would have activated her collar by now.

As if on cue, the van accelerated, throwing the prisoners to the side, and only held back by their chains from the rapid change in velocity.

The prison convoy is under attack… But from whom?

He was not aware of any parahuman capable of controlling birds, meaning the attack was orchestrated by a third party. His stomach clenched…

Is it the Yangban?

Lung closed his eyes and concentrated whatever power he could muster on his hearing. But all he could hear was the sound-

With a deafening crash, a force slammed into the side of the van, sending it cartwheeling two… four… nine times over the road and into the sidewalk. The constant acceleration and deceleration sent anything loose flying in the air. The van came to a halt upon hitting something solid, most likely the wall of a building.

"Fuck…" Bakuda cursed. "How many times did I hit my head?"

Not enough, considering she was still talking, thought Lung as the ringing in his ears faded. His power swelled at the thought of a possible threat, muscles tensing as his flames simmered to life. Thankfully the van had stopped upright, or they would have been dangling from their restraints.

"Do you think it's Lee?" Bakuda asked as she groaned.

She could certainly act stupid for someone who took so much pride in her intelligence. As a bomb tinker, he would have thought she would recognize the sound of an explosive… Or the lack of any.

This was not Oni Lee's work.

The panicked stomping of a dozen pairs of feet vibrated the floor as the PRT officers surrounded the van. Angry voices and commands filled the air as they prepared for combat. Even imprisoned in an enclosed space, Lung could smell the palpable tension and taste the fear lingering in the air.

Silence ensued as if the world had held its breath.

And the screams began.

Gunshots crackled in the air as entire magazines were emptied in seconds. But after each moment, there was one less active gun… and one less screaming voice. In their replacement came the smell of blood and shit, the scent becoming more potent the quieter the world became until nothing could be heard seconds later.

"Wha- what's going on?" Canary asked, her voice trembling with every syllable as she tightly gripped the fabric on her leg in fear. While the screams had faded, the silence was just as uncanny.

Bakuda, who often lacked common sense, was wise enough to keep quiet.

After a minute, the doors to the van opened, revealing the same PRT officer who had the gall to threaten him. Except for this time, he seemed far less angry and far more afraid.

Accompanying the man was a red-haired woman, the type he enjoyed taking to his bed and most likely the assailant that had attacked this convoy.

Without a word, she tilted her head in their direction, giving the PRT Officer a silent command. Without hesitation, the man moved to obey, almost in desperation as his hand trembled in fear. Lung would not have been surprised if he had shat himself right there. The man constantly glanced at his back as he worked to free his prisoners, as if afraid he would be stabbed in the back at any moment.

After an agonizing twenty minutes, made longer by the man's shaking, Lung was finally free.

"C-can I go now?"

The red-haired woman gazed at him with a gentle smile, the kind reserved only for angels. "Yes."

The nameless man sighed in relief as he let out a sobbing breath. "Oh, thank you, thank you so much, I pro-"

The man died as he had lived, nameless and forgotten. His body disappeared from head to hip in a vibrant fog of scarlet red. With a thud, the legs toppled to the ground.

"Lung, was it?" She calmly asked as if she had not murdered a man moments ago.

The man in question warily stared at the questioner as he cautiously stepped out of the van accompanied by his two fellow prisoners.

Bakuda whistled, gazing at her surroundings. "Damn."

Surrounding them was carnage.

Lung eyed the bodies and limbs that littered the floor as blood pooled with the rain. Their owners were killed in a variety of ways. Some were missing heads, and some had no legs. Some were cut in half from head to groin, while others were cut from the waist. A couple was just a puddle of blood, as if a hammer had mashed them to the ground, leaving behind nothing but their bloodied clothing. Lung showed nothing, not even a hint of fear or disgust.

In contrast, Canary turned green and rushed to the side to empty whatever remained in her stomach.

Bakuda scrunched her nose in disgust before turning to their rescuer. "No mask or suit? You're either suicidally brave or suicidally stupid."

The red-haired woman did not respond, much less turn her gaze and allowed the words to go ignored.

The bomb tinker snarled in anger, "Hey, I'm talk-."

Lung raised his hand, silencing her. Unlike in the van, the rest of her words died before they even reached her lips. While the woman's attire was strange in this world of supervillains and superheroes, it was not the time to address it.

Her lack of a mask however, was worrying. Memories of a similar unmasked woman wearing a fedora passed his mind. Those who did not need to hide were those who were not concerned about being seen. As for what that meant… He would soon find out.

"Thank you for releasing us. I am in your debt. May I ask who you are?" He asked, far politer than usual. Part of it was gratitude, and the other was caution. Just the mere sight of this woman sent his instincts screaming into overdrive. Over the years as a villain, he had learned to trust his sixth sense. It kept him alive until his power grew strong enough to bulldoze whatever stood in his way.

To his surprise, the woman replied in Japanese. "My name is Makima."

Now that he scrutinized her, he could make out some Asian features.

"Why is it that you are here Makima-san? Why have you helped me," he asked in the same language. He was not crazy enough to believe he was saved out of goodwill. But she had saved him the trouble of breaking out and for that, he would listen to what she had to say.

But she would die nonetheless if the Yangban sent her

Makima met his slit pupils with her yellow ringlets.

"Did your mother ever tell you the tale of the country and town mouse Mr. Lung?"

"What?" He asked, baffled by the unexpected question.

"Or did your father? If not, it doesn't matter. The town mouse chooses to risk danger for fulfillment and excitement. On the other hand, the country mouse lives a meager and poor life in exchange for peace."

Was she mocking him?

"Get to the point," he snapped, anger beginning to boil.

"Neither path is wrong. Both have their pros and cons… But what if there was a dog out to kill both?" She continued, ignoring his scaling fury. "To the town mouse, the dog is just one of many threats to its life. But to the country mouse? The peace that it treasured most has been shattered."

Makima moved closer, stepping over a corpse until their eyes were only a foot apart.

"You became a small-time gang leader ruling a tiny piece of a backwater city when you could have been so much more. You chose to live in the country when you will die just the same when the dogs called Endbringers come snapping at your heels. If you are going to die regardless, would it not be better to be of the town? It's laughable… endearing even. As if tucking yourself under the blanket will hide you from the monsters outside."

Lung struck with a fist covered in flames. His anger had reached a boiling point at this whore's nonsense. When his rage sang, his power answered. He could feel his bones twist, snapping and realigning as his muscles grew and tore to become something superior. The fiery fist flew at her face, intending to break it, just like the many women in his brothels.

But he stumbled, having hit nothing. Where his arm once was now but a stump wriggling flesh. The humanoid dragon barely had enough time to raise his remaining hand in defense as a leg crashed into his flank, snapping and shattering his arm before doing the same to every bone at his side.

With a grunt, he was sent careening through the air, tumbling through the road and grass as every landing carved away his flesh in a bloody mess. But his broken bones burned with a fire that expanded to his skin, spreading warmth throughout every muscle and dulling the pain that would have crippled any other man.

"Stand, Mr. Lung. It would not do for a dragon to die lying on the dirt."

Despite having been sent a hundred feet, the woman stood beside his head as if she had teleported, staring down at him with her amber-yellow eyes. While her lips wore a kind smile, he saw nothing but contempt.

That, more than anything, struck him to the core.

For Lung, every second was a constant challenge. His flames were always hungry, constantly seeking to devour, and only held back by his self-discipline. The slightest weakness would result in a scourge of ash and smoke.

Against this witch, he let it all go.

"I'll kill you… I'LL KILU YU!" He roared in rage as flames engulfed his body, rapidly burning away his decency. Explosive rage paved the way for an explosive escalation in power. In a second's worth of time, he had grown by a meter. He could feel the scales bursting from underneath his skin as his teeth turned into fangs. Bone penetrated his flesh as it grew from his spine, turning into nubs that would become wings, and his mouth became narrow and daggered, becoming the snout of a dragon.

His sudden transformation would have had even the hardiest of souls flinching, but the woman's eyes spoke of nothing but fascination.

Instead of standing, he fell to his fours and lunged, teeth snapping at her throat but received nothing but an elbow through the nose for the trouble. His shattered nasal bone plunged deeply into his brain, and for a moment, he blacked out.

He awakened just in time to see a fist shooting toward his right shoulder.

If this punch was anything like her last kick, blocking was impossible as he was now. When force met force, the weaker would be defeated. But no amount of power could cut the fluidity of water.

Lung pivoted around his dominant foot and turned so that his body's line was perpendicular to his opponent's. As he twisted, he lashed with an arm of his own, briefly locking his forearm with that of the woman's before pushing to the side and deflecting the punch.

"Oh?" Makima mused in surprise. "It seems you have some skill, after all."

"You're daed bitsch." At ten feet in height, he towered over her, casting a vast looming shadow that enveloped her lithe form. He scrutinized her visage, searching for any signs of fear, whether it was the trembling of the lips or pallor in her complexion. But all he could see were her eyes that shined as brightly as any flame in the darkness.

Adopting a boxer's guard, he feinted right before hooking a left at her temple.

Unbothered by his ruse, she raised both arms in a cross-arm block that stopped his punch dead in its tracks. She grabbed his arm and twisted it painfully to the side so that his elbow faced the sky. With her free arm, Makima struck down in a hammer strike at the elbow, intending to shatter it at the joint.

But before her strike could land, a pale blue flower budded in the palm of his immobilized arm. It was a small miserable flame that quickly bloomed into a massive inferno, submerging both within the configuration. The blaze was scorching enough to boil stone, but it was just a comfortable warmth to his skin. When the heat finally died, there was nothing but smoke and steam.

As he opened his mouth to gloat, a leg too fast for his vision to track sliced through his own, cutting through them like a blade. Even as he was brought down, a fist slammed down onto his cheek, shattering his teeth and scale as the other side of his face pounded into the dirt.

Coughing, Lung spat out his broken, and bloodied fangs as his regeneration immediately replaced what was lost.

But despite having face-planted into the ground, he laughed.

Her damnable smile was finally gone.

Makima frowned as she closely examined the singed corners of her suit. "You burned my cuffs."

Lung froze mid-laughter in disbelief.

You burned my cuffs?

I burned your fucking cuffs?!


He was Lung, the Dragon of Kyushu. He had fought the entire Brockton Bay Protectorate and had won. He had fought Leviathan singlehandedly and survived.

That was whom she was fighting…

Yet she was worried about her FUCKING CLOTHES?!??

His newly grown teeth cracked as he clenched his jaw in rage. Flames burning white in an almost mad frenzy, he stood to his feet, growing taller by the feet as he did so. Silver scales that had only covered his limbs now burst from every inch of his body like a blossoming field as he became more beast than man. Something alien replaced the face as his gait and stance were filled with a savagery that even the most bestial of animals could not match, a brutality that inspired terror.

But the woman's frown had melted away and all he saw upon her face was amusement.

Eyes red with rage, he charged, and the dance of Beauty and the Beast began. The beauty was nimble, and the beast was slow. She flew across the floor while he stumbled on his feet. His flesh was stripped from the bone, and his marrow turned to paste as he missed his steps while she landed hers. Despite his apocalyptic anger, the beast roared a deep laughter that could be heard for miles on end. With every tap, he became stronger. With every twirl, he was faster.

Within minutes, Lung stood twenty feet tall and brimming with power. The same power that had simultaneously broken the Protectorate and the Empire.

The Dragon crouched, bending his knees as he positioned his claws behind him. As he leaped, an inferno burst from both palms, preparing to accelerate himself like a rocket at speeds faster than sound.

There was no need for claws to tear.

There was no need for fangs to bite or fire to set aflame.

His mass and momentum would be more than enough to flatten her.

Makima raised her palm.

Lung broke.

Far faster than his regeneration could heal, his eyes were crushed, his wings snapped, his limbs twisted, his organs pulped, his spine bent, and his flesh shredded. When he cried out in agony, only blood and viscera flowed from his gullet in a soundless scream.

In moments, the Dragon, once tall and mighty, was a sad sack of meat and bone trembling in the gusts.

"I had pegged you for a country mouse, but you are not even that, are you? You played the big fish in a small pond but got eaten by sardines," she laughed. "All that effort and you end up as… This..."

Memories flashed across his mind.

She tore through them, every movement precisely calculated to disable, to crush, blind, stun and stagger. They were driven to stumble into one another, their weapons knocked from their hands. She wasn't any faster than any of them, not a martial artist, though there was a degree of elegance to what she did. No movements wasted.

He could not move, for his muscles were torn.

He could not see, for he had no eyes.

He was dying despite his regeneration. Only his hearing remained untouched, left alone so that he could hear her mockery. This was a terrible time and place to be lost in memories. But he could not help but remember.

The fedoraed woman who had torn apart Daichi's gang.

The one who haunted him even now in his dreams.

His Nightmare.

He could feel the same helplessness he had felt back then. Defenseless… Powerless…

Was that not why he had stayed in Brockton Bay? Making himself the King of a downtrodden, worthless, and unwanted part of the city that no one would want? So that he would never have to taste that bitter sensation of defeat?

Then what the fuck had he been doing?

He had lost, not once, but twice. By the same slip of a girl and her sad pack of thieves, leaving a gaping wound in his pride that his power could never heal regardless of whether he avenged himself.

And he was on the brink of losing a third time.

He was fucking tired of it.

He was tired of running, having no power, and being defeated.

Never again,
Lung swore.

The world knew light.

In a brilliance that could blot out the stars, he shined.

In a radiance that could outshine the sun, he burned.

From the sweltering inferno stood a monster taller than any Endbringer. Silver scales glinted as they rippled in a wave as his muscles flexed with power. Four wings, bat-like in nature, unlike the feathered ones of the Simurgh, extended from his back like the four arms from his torso.

Never had he felt such strength. What he had in Kyushu was paltry compared to this.

Lung was invincible. He was an Endbringer. No… He could kill Endbringers.

But for now, he would satisfy himself by killing that bitch.

He breathed, intaking the air that served as the fuel for the conflagration that burned within.

With a roar, hot white flames so dense that they resembled plasma burst from his gullet, burning and incinerating every atom within a hundred-foot radius. Stone became gas as his flames rocketed to the red-haired woman, intent on doing the same to her flesh.

She did not attempt to dodge.

Calmly staring at the incoming flames, she raised her right hand, cupped underneath by her left, and pointed a finger.

"Bang."

The flames vanished, and so did his body.

Lung tumbled to the ground, a bodiless head that rolled like a leaf in the wind. He tried to move, but he had no limbs. He tried to speak, but he had no lungs.

Even when he was imprisoned by the CUI, even when he was losing against that bug girl, he had never once lost certainty in his eventual victory. But for the first time in decades since he had faced Leviathan, a thought flashed across his mind.

I cannot win.

With that realization, his will to fight disappeared, and with it, his power.

While he healed, his skin was no longer scales that could withstand bullets, his nails were no longer talons that could bisect a man, and he was no longer a behemoth that towered over Endbringers.

He was just a naked man.

Kenta fled.



As fast as he could even as his bare feet were torn to shreds from the jagged rocks underneath. Even as he stumbled and fell, gashing his calves and arms, all he could think about was getting away from that freak of nature.

That Endbringer. There was no point fighting what could not be defeated.

A hand grabbed him by the hair.

And his head was shoved into the filthy waters of a flooded street.

Kenta struggled all he could. He kicked, punched, and was ashamed to say even begged.

But there was no mercy.

When his eyes darkened and his movements weakened, the hand dragged him out, leaving him heaving and huffing greedily for air.

"Why…" He gasped, his voice clattering with his teeth. "Why do this to me? Did I hurt you? Kill your family? Just why?"

The Endbringer chuckled. "Nothing like that. Before today, I didn't even know you existed."

"Then why?!" He asked, voice rising into a crescendo in desperation.

"Why you ask? Well… It's nothing complicated. I just enjoy killing the country mouse."

The fedoraed woman planted one hand on the back of his head as he winced from the blow, then pushed him face-first into the ground. Kenta tried to rise, but she stepped on the back of his head, driving him into the brick a second time, hard. The weight of the bodyguard was on his head, holding him there, suffocating.

Once again, his face was shoved back into the water as he squirmed, suffocating.

"The town mouse risks death for contentment. Killing someone like that isn't satisfying, his life is but a secondary concern," calmly continued the Endbringer in a manner that was incongruous with her action. "But to a country mouse, there is nothing more valuable."

"Taking away that feeling of peace is… calming."

Daichi, dead, suffocated, eyes bulging. Ren lay there, eyes rolled up into his skull, his nose rammed into his brain. Hisoka, suffocated on power, as Kenta almost had. Arata, gasping for air he couldn't seem to pull into his lungs. Ryo's head had a dent in it. Jirou's airways had been blocked. Both Takeo and Shuji lay dead with no apparent wounds.

For something like that? He was going to die because of something like that?!

As his strength left him, he struggled as black spots formed in his eyes.

He didn't want to die. Not like this. Not like them.

His mind lost reason, and terror engulfed his thoughts as he fell into a complete panic. He called upon his power, even knowing it would be a useless endeavor. But no flame answered his call and no strength embraced his body. His power would not be beckoned by someone who had no wish to fight.

As the fear solidified into a physical construct that sickened and gnawed at his insides, he puked. Thrashing, he struggled against the hand keeping him down, not to fight but to escape.

As the air keeping him alive ran out, his flails became a whimper, and the pain in his lungs was the only thing keeping him conscious. But even that faded as death approached.

Kenta, the man who sought to escape defeat, having never pursued victory, die-

-The two entities danced, communicating as they moved, folding and expanding realities on a whim. Revealing two worlds and from there, an infinite plane of kaleidoscopic stars. They sang, in thoughts and ideas through mediums he could not comprehend-

Trajectory

Alignment

Agree- CONTROL


The Endbringer reeled back as if struck, releasing hold of his hair as her eyes glazed and dilated as if staring at something impossibly far.

"Marvelous," she gasped, her amber pupils shining in wonder.



----

Hopefully, that was enough of a dose of Makima for one chapter. If it wasn't, there's plenty more coming in the next two planned chapters! Some may disagree but I prefer to write Makima from the lenses/POV of other characters. She's a lot more interesting if you don't know what she is thinking or planning like in the CSM Canon.

Remember to review!
 
Chapter 4
Beta Read By: Axiomat

-Shadow Stalker-​




"Why the hell are you lot here?" She groaned in a mix of frustration and annoyance. Her day, like many others, had been a clusterfuck of a mess and running into her team was the last thing she needed.

"Why are you?" Came the back talk from the brat in green, her visor glinting even in the poor lighting.

Never had Shadow Stalker been this tempted to shoot a 12-year-old girl. Logically, this was no different from their usual squabbles, but the stress was taking its toll. She breathed; deeply and slowly. It was not the time to start a fight, nor was she free to do so.

"None of your business," she said instead.

"Ditto."

Shadow Stalker nearly pulled the trigger. Only the thought of the consequences stopped her. But while Vista was being difficult, there was only one reason she and the rest of the Wards were here inside an Endbringer shelter instead of being on their way to Boston.

"What the hell do you think you can do against Leviathan?"

"If, Leviathan gets here, we die," Clockblocker answered with uncharacteristic gravity. "But if we do nothing, every civilian in this shelter dies regardless."

Nodding, Gallant continued. "Shelters in Brockton Bay can withstand flooding, but the problem is oxygen. We'll run out in minutes the moment the city is underwater, but Kid Win thinks he can build something to remedy that."

"Kid Win? Kid fucking Win?" She asked in disbelief, briefly wondering if the crashing of the waves had impaired her hearing. "The guy that has dyslexia for numbers and the attention span of a flea? That's who you're betting your fucking lives on?"

Despite how others saw her, she could respect the will to act in the face of adversity. But there was a difference between courage and utter stupidity. This was deeply in the latter.

"I heard that possible death by drowning does wonders for motivation," Clockblocker drawled with a chuckle.

"Do you have a better idea? Instead of complaining, why don't you go make yourself useful!" Vista scowled.

"Ladies!" Gallant interrupted. "Please focus. Vista and Clockblocker can buy time in cases of emergency, and your phasing power can seal leaks and reinforce weakened areas. We all need to work together to survive."

"Let's say that I'm willing to play construction worker. That still takes us back to problem uno. Whether Kid Win can actually build something worth a damn. You lot can bet your lives on him, but there's no way I'm doing the same with my sister."

Just the thought of her family struck anger into her mind deeper than a bullet. The PRT had offered private shelter to the Wards' families with their upper-ranking members during the initial phase of the Endbringer attack. All of whom had evacuated once the defense had collapsed.

But that dumb bitch who called herself a mother had refused to have anything to do with her eldest daughter and had gone to the public Endbringer shelter with her youngest.

Shadow Stalker could care less what happened to that drug-laden piece of shit that had more cocaine in her veins than blood, but there was no way she would allow her sister to die here.

"What exactly are you planning?" Vista asked, her voice softening slightly. "You can't be thinking of trying your luck outside!"

"That is exactly what I am going to do."

"How could you! You're supposed to be a hero, but you're just going to run and leave these people to die?"

Gallant nodded as he stepped forward, standing next to Vista's side, backing her both physically and verbally. "She's right. We need your help, Stalker. It could be the difference between life and death for these people."

Shadow Stalker glared, her gloved fist clenching in anger at the insinuation. "I do not fucking run! Why should I care about weaklings who do nothing but wait to be rescued? They should try their luck outside rather waiting for someone like Kid Win to save them. At least some will survive that way."

"Stalker!" Gallant exclaimed, sounding horrified. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that if they don't even try to save themselves, why should we?"

Breaking open the truth of the world to these numbskulls would have landed her in far greater trouble than it was worth, not to mention it would have been a pointless endeavor. But right now? When she was uncertain if she would survive past the night? She simply did not care.

"What of your sister?" Clockblocker countered. "By your own words, she's a weakling waiting for Kid Win to save her."

"She's four, you jackass."

As usual, the resident joker missed the point. It was not strength that differentiated prey and predator but their will.

The will to fight.

Prey would do nothing even if they had strength, allowing themselves to be stepped on and trampled upon.

Predators would punch if they lost their legs, kick if they lost their arms, and bite if they lost both, even when fully understanding the futility of their actions.

Only the people willing to resist this world's stains were survivors. Only they deserved salvation. Not the ones who cowered despite having the means to contest, waiting for others to win their battles for them. Those who refused to fight deserved to suffer.

"There are plenty of kids underneath us that are even younger. Shadow Stalker… Sophia… Even if you don't care about the… weaklings… do it for the ones who are too young to defend themselves," Gallant pleaded.

"Why should I, Dean? Why the hell should I risk my and my sister's lives for strangers when the so-called heroes won't do the same? The entire Protectorate and the PRT fucking ran and left us all to die!"

"Because it would be the right thing to do," Gallant responded resolutely.

"All right, you've convinced me."

"Seriously?" Clockblocked asked doubtfully.

"No, you asswipe!" Stalker sneered before turning to Gallant. "Save your little hero speech for the Triumvirate. Oh wait, you can't. They left with the rest. Shove over."

She had allowed these morons to waste too much of her time when she was already short on it. Pushing her team aside, Stalker proceeded to do what she had come here for.

"Shadow Stalker, wait!" Gallant shouted, grabbing her shoulder from the back.

Before the heroic wannabe got nailed in his nose, she was interrupted by a voice whinier than Vista's

"Oops. Think we interrupted a family squabble?" Chuckled a girl in an obnoxiously purple suit.

"Ah fuck this…." Groaned a man with a skull mask.

"Grue!" She shouted, glaring at the man before doing the same to the rest of his trash team. "What the hell are your Undersiders doing here?"

She would have been glad to have found him if this was any other day. But she had more important things to do than put some third-rate villain in his place.

The Wards tensed, no doubt remembering the confrontation at the bank.

"Seriously Stalker…" Tattletale moaned. "Pick a better time for your hate boner. Besides, we brought you all a gift wrapped in an American flag."

"Miss Militia!" Vista squealed, running to embrace the eldest heroine who had emerged from behind Skitter.

"Vista!" The woman took the twelve-year-old in a motherly embrace. "I'm glad all of you are all right!"

Shadow Stalker snorted in disgust.

"As are we. What of the rest?" Gallant asked with hesitation.

The happiness in Miss Militia's eyes turned grim.

"Triumph and Velocity were killed. Dauntless, Assault, and Battery were heavily wounded. Armsmaster stayed behind as the rear guard, but I do not know what happened to him. I was preparing to retreat until I ran into the Undersiders. They told me that you guys would be here." She said with both approval and worry.

"And truth behold, here they are!" Tattletale flamboyantly shouted, shaking her hands in an exaggerated wave as her voice bounced off from the metallic walls as an echo.

"Where is Hellhound? Regent? Are they safe?" Gallant asked

"They left," Skitter responded, succinctly. But despite the brevity of her speech, the bitterness was clear in her voice.

"That doesn't explain why your team is here. Regardless of your crimes, your team aided the defense against Leviathan. The PRT should have helped you withdraw."

"I could say the same about you," Skitter snapped back.

Gallant shook his head. "We're heroes."

"That didn't stop the Protectorate from abandoning this city."

"That's not fair, and you know it," Miss Militia protested. "Brockton Bay's heroes were butchered today. I don't know if any of my colleagues are even alive, and I was only spared because I was stationed in the rear."

"Fair enough," Tattletale shrugged, smirking. "We may be dastardly villains, but we also have people we care about. Which is why I am here to save you all from your stupid plan."

"Stupid? You don't even know our plan!" Vista shouted angrily.

"Let me guess, seal the shelter and have Kid Win tinker a device that converts CO2 to Oxygen while having Shadow Stalker phase objects into any breaches. How am I doing so far?"

"… It's a good plan."

Tattletale rolled her eyes. "Yea, if this place was the size of your house. This is an Endbringer shelter that can house thousands. You'll be overwhelmed if you try to react to every problem as they come."

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Gallant asked, not from anger but concern.

"Thankfully, yours truly can tell you exactly what to move and block before this city drowns."

"Except I won't be here," Shadow Stalker mentioned, her arms crossed under her chest.

"Unless you intend to swim to Boston with your little sister in tow, you will be," Tattletale said.

"Is that a threat?"

"Leviathan will destroy the city's reservoir in 6 minutes, and the entire city will be underwater in 14. You will be fish food unless you can reach the outskirts within that limit."

"You're lying."

Tattletale snorted. "Want to bet on that? With your sister's life?"

"I'll be doing the same if I stay here regardless."

"True, but a 60% chance of death is better than 99%."

"It'll be 100% if Leviathan comes," Shadow Stalker reminded.

"He won't," the thinker promised. "He's going straight for the reservoir."

Shadow Stalker hesitated. It wasn't like she was fond of her chances outside but putting her life in the hands of others, especially someone as unreliable as Kid Win, sickened her.

She would have stormed out ages ago if she were alone, but she had a responsibility more important than her ego.

She sighed; the decision made. "Fine. But if something happens, I swear to the golden idiot I will fucking kill you."

"You'll probably have to get in line, but I get your point. But if everyone does exactly as I say, we should all be fine. For now, you should-."

A deafening crash of an impact striking metal reverberated painfully through the room. The vibrations from the collision were enough to knock a few off their feet.

"What the hell was that?" Clockblocker asked, dread coloring his voice.

He was never the brightest nor the most sensitive, but Shadow Stalker was confident that even he already knew the answer.

Talons pierced through the ceiling wall like a knife through butter before clenching into a fist. With a heave of force, the walls above were torn open, revealing the unwelcome visitor.

At this moment, Shadow Stalker noted two things.

First, Leviathan looked like he had lost a fight with a lawnmower.

Second, and more importantly, they were all about to die.

The room sprang into action.

With a flash of green light, a hand-held cannon formed in Miss Militia's hand.

Clockblocker raised his hands; as if there was something he could do

Space extended between both parties, futilely seeking to delay the inevitable.

Clouds of darkness and bugs filled the air, one silent and the other singing but both equally pointless.

Shadow Stalker loaded her crossbow as she phased into a shadow.

Leviathan leaped, aiming for them all.

She would never admit it. But at this moment, she was terrified.

Shadow Stalker knew that she was dead. They all were dead. Everyone in this room knew it.

But she refused to die without a fight.

She raised her crossbow, bolt loaded and its tip aiming at the bleeding mess above.

Her index finger pressed against the trigger as Leviathan, a bullet in all but name, swung his talons and was struck in the face by a textbook-perfect flying kick. The kind that was only seen in movies due to their impracticality.

Despite being ambushed and missing more flesh than it currently had, Leviathan twisted with surprising grace and agility, landing on the metal wall with his feet and using it as a launching board to propel himself at the second intruder.

Unfazed by the flying Endbringer, the red-haired woman raised a single finger.

"Bang."

With a thunderous boom, Leviathan… disappeared? Shadow Stalker blinked, disbelieving what had transpired.

"What the fuck?"

For the first time in her life, and hopefully the last, she agreed with Clockblocker.

What the fuck?

Their rescuer turned, facing the group of heroes and misfits.

"Is everyone okay?" She asked, concern plastered upon her visage. The woman stood beneath the sprawling light that shined down upon her like a spotlight, giving her an otherworldly look.

At this moment, Sophia could only think of two things.

First, that was fucking metal.

Second, and more importantly… Damn, she was hot.







-Tattletale-​
Is a woman

What the fuck?

She tried once more, albeit with greater effort.

A woman with light-red hair, yellow ringed eyes. 173 cm in height, 23 years of age.

Tattletale blinked, dumbfounded. Okay, this is getting ridiculous.

Brushing away the signs of a coming migraine, she carefully eyed the latest addition to their party. The Undersider's resident thinker scrutinized every detail, whether it was the wrinkles in her suspiciously immaculate suit, the twitch in her brows, the pace of her breathing, and all the way down to her gait. Individually, these pieces of information meant nothing. When put together as a whole, however… they still meant nothing.

But her power fed off these worthless pieces of information to exponentiate into something valuable.

Name is Makima. Unconcerned about her identity. Wandering why you are staring at her. Noticed that you are in pain and concerned for your health. Wishes to protect the residents of this city and everyone present.

Better. But not what she had hoped to learn, although it was reassuring that someone who could throw down with an Endbringer wasn't planning on throwing down with them.

Fuck… She cursed as she grimaced at the thinker headache. While she had been using her power left and right, it was still far too early for the pain to be this bad.

Does she have some anti-thinker field like Eidolon and the Endbringers?

No… It wasn't that Makima was immune to thinker powers; she just had resistance. Trying to get even a bit of information from her was like slogging through a mud field on your hands. She was hesitant to dig further, but an Endbringer had nearly eviscerated them a minute ago. She needed every bit of information she could get.

Taking a deep breath, Tattletale gritted her teeth and met the amber-ringed eyes that were now curiously staring back at her own.

Fought Leviathan, gaining familiarity with his patterns. Capable of generating a telekinetic force capable of hurting Leviathan. Is a brute. Weaker than Leviathan. Faster than Leviathan. Experienced in combat. Capable of regeneration. Confident she could neutralize Leviathan permanently.

Her eyes widened. Trepidation forgotten, she recklessly plunged deeper into the ice-cold field of mud.

Is not of this world, she is not hu-

Pain exploded across her head, starting from the temporals and radiating both ways to the occipital and frontal. Before she knew it, the soles of her feet were no longer flat on the ground.

She was falling.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw Grue and Skitter reach out to halt her fall, but they were too slow. Tattletale tried to catch herself, but it was like the pain had disconnected her brain from the rest of her body.

But before her brain could spill from her skull, a soft pair of hands caught her behind the back. Warmth radiated from the palms and soothed the chill deeply embedded within her bones as gently as the early summer's kiss.

"Are you okay?" Makima asked, her brows scrunched in motherly worry.

Tattletale groaned as her team parroted the same question. Never had she regretted a decision so quickly. Trembling hands reached into her pocket, grabbing far too many painkillers before popping them into her mouth and swallowing. It was far more than she should have taken but overdosing was sadly not even in her top five probable causes of mortality for the day.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, more bravado than truth as she tried to recollect what she had learned. But to her dismay, she found that no memories prior to the pain remained.

Fuck, all that trouble and nothing to show for it.

"I'm not sure what happened, but don't push yourself too far," Makima warned, but not unkindly.

"Yeah… I noticed."

"Tattletale…" Grue warned, unkindly with an edge in his voice.

She sighed. "Thank you for your help."

"It was no problem," Makima replied. "Is anyone else hurt?"

The Wards looked around, uncertain of what to do until Gallant took the lead.

"Everyone is safe ma'am."

"Yeah, talk about the last-minute save!" Clockblocker exclaimed once the ice was broken.

Vista sighed. "Not really. The ceiling is torn; I don't know if we can fix it before the city floods."

"Eh, it was a shit plan anyways," Shadow Stalker piped.

The youngest Ward angrily turned, lips moving to form a rebuttal before a slight cough silenced it.

"Why don't you explain from the beginning?" Makima asked.

"Is there a point? Do we even have the time for one?" Shadow Stalker replied.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. But I find that many solutions are found in the process of explaining, even when simply repeating known information. As for Leviathan, he will be preoccupied with two of his associates."

Okay… That last part left more questions than it answered. Lesson learned and slightly wiser, Tattletale dipped her toes in the mud rather than plunging in headfirst while Vista proceeded to oblige.

Sent Leviathan in the direction of Eidolon and Alexandria. Can see from any distance as long as her sight is unobstructed. Senses are far greater than normal.

Not that; she said she could kill Leviathan. How?

Cannot kill Leviathan. Durability is too great to inflict lethal damage.

Tattletale groaned in both pain and annoyance. Now her power was playing games and flip-flopping. If it wasn't going to help her, she might as well shut it off before she ended up on the ground again.

"That is an impressive plan. I'm amazed that you were able to come up with it in an emergency," Makima praised.

"Not that it'll matter… The plan's fried," Vista.

"That's too early to say, isn't it?" Said Makima shaking her head. "A good leader can handle changing circumstances; that is why I am certain you can as well."

Tattletale didn't need powers to see that Vista was blushing under her visor at the praise.

"However, while I hate to put your efforts to waste, your plan may not be necessary. I will drive off Leviathan."

"How?!" Clockblocker exclaimed. "By yourself?"

"If need be, yes."

"That's way too dangerous ma'am," Gallant protested. "I don't mean to doubt your abilities, but even the Triumvirate can't do that. Leviathan looked hurt but fighting him alone is still suicide."

"Perhaps. But if I do nothing, hundreds of thousands will die. If it means saving the city and its residents, I cannot justify sitting on the sideline and doing nothing if there is even the slightest chance I could make a difference."

The lines were corny and sounded like they were copied from a movie. Tattletale had heard similar lines spouted by the Protectorate and its heroes and she didn't need to be a thinker to know that most of it was bullshit.

But for some reason, she believed her. Maybe it was her tone, or perhaps it was the sincerity in her eyes or even the aura of confidence she exuded with every motion. Tattletale could see that the room was rapidly being swayed.

"You're certain?" Skitter asked, her voice trembling with… hope? "You're sure you can save Brockton Bay?"

"I will," Makima said with reassuring confidence. "Everyone dies, but no one else will die today. No matter what. That, I promise."

"Why… Why would you? All the other heroes ran," Skitter spat out bitterly. "I saw you destroy those waves. You could make the Triumvirate the Quadrivariate again. Brockton Bay was dying long before today, and it's not even an important city. You're not from here, so why would you risk your life to help a place like this?"

Makima paused, her hand partly palming her chin as she pondered before answering. "As you said, I am not from here, nor do I have any personal connection to Brockton Bay. I do not know this city or its value on the global stage. But young lady… I am not here to save the city, just the people. The world may put arbitrary values on individuals, deeming some more deserving than the rest or putting down another as insignificant and to be ignored. But people are people, and humans are humans. They are not products to be exchanged, nor can life have a price. No matter what others say, every individual is worth fighting for."

Skitter did not respond, nor did Makima press her for one.

"I promised to fight for this city, alone if I have to. I am embarrassed to ask this of you all, but could you grant me your aid?"

"Aid? We would love to, but none here would last very long against Leviathan," Clockblocker answered nervously.

"Nor would I put any of you in harm's way. One of my abilities is sharing powers between myself and another. I'm not certain of the details, but would you be willing?"

Jaws dropped, both literally and metaphorically. That was some Eidolon-level Trump bullshit right there.

"That sounds amazing. But no one in my team has any powers that will be useful against Leviathan." Grue admitted.

"Perhaps, but you will be receiving part of my powers as well. Even if your powers aren't useful in the coming fight, I will be content that your team now has a better chance at survival," Makima replied before pausing for a second. "By the way, where does your gas come from? Is it internally generated?"

"Uh… What?"

Tattletale laughed. "She's asking if you fart it out."

"What!" Grue repeated, although in a far different tone.

"Not exactly what I meant… But do you?" Makima asked.

"No! Gods no!" Grue denied indignantly.

"Ugh… Gross man. Didn't you cover all of us with that at the bank?" Clockblocker snickered in amusement, adding fuel to the fire. "Although I guess I should have seen that coming. With all that black leather, you were bound to have some weird fetish."

The leader of the Undersiders glared but a skull mask had little means in conveying his ire. "While I do not know where my Darkness is generated from, it is most certainly not from…."

"Your anus?" Tattletale piped helpfully but received little gratitude.

"I see," Makima muttered. "Moving on, any volunteers?"

Rather than the eager agreement from the youths, a mature voice that was usually warm resounded coldly from the rear.

"No."

The room turned to face the American flag-clad heroine who had not spoken a word till now.

"Miss Militia?" Vista asked, confused at the denial.

"I'm sorry, but we will have to refuse," Miss Militia resolutely declared, tension bleeding into her voice.

The wards erupted in protest.

In the commotion, Tattletale frowned, activating her power on the sole Protectorate hero present.

Deeply discomforted by Makima. Distrusting of Makima. Possesses eidetic memory. Cannot be mastered.

Her eyes widened. Were they being mastered?

Not mastered. No mind has been tampered with.

No mind control… Then was Miss Militia just being paranoid? She couldn't blame her. Power-granting abilities often had strings attached. Caution was necessary, although this was a time when they needed to take risks.

But fortunately for her, she could mitigate the latter without comprising the former. Taking a deep breath in and a deep breath out, Tattletale concentrated on Makima.

Trust her.

… What?

Trust her.

What the hell was going on? This wasn't how her power worked!

Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her. Trust her.

Hell no.

"Fucking pussies," Shadow Stalker scoffed as she walked to Makima.

"Stalker, what are you doing?" Miss Militia questioned, warningly.

"I don't need your permission to do what is necessary."

"Were you not listening to what I just said?!"

"Spare me your fucking lecture. I know the risks, but the plan is a bust, and we will all die if she doesn't drive off Leviathan. Weren't you the one who said we should protect the prey?"

"Shadow Stal-"

"Sophia Hess?" Skitter interrupted, anger and disbelief resonating with the beating of a million wings.

Stalker spun around.

"Hebert?" She asked, in equal shock.

Words were thrown, and insults were traded as the rest tried to stop the two. But Tattletale did not bother to listen and could only glance warily at the red-haired woman. But no matter how hard she scrutinized, Makima was still as kind and awe-inspiring as before.

"Could you two please be quiet?"

Noise collapsed into silence. The voice was as gentle and cordial as ever. But something about it chilled her to the bone.

"Since you are their acting guardian, I will respect your decision Miss Militia." Said Makima before turning to the Undersiders. "What of you three?"

"Sorry, but we will have to refuse as well. None of our powers will help out all that much, and it wouldn't be right to take advantage of your generosity. Plus, with me around, everyone's safety is practically guaranteed." Tattletale boasted, cutting off Grue and Skitter before they could say anything.

She wished she felt as confident as she sounded.

"I see. That is a shame. But regardless of your decision, I will carry out my promise. I wish you all the best of luck." Makima smiled reassuringly.

It was the same warm smile. Nothing had changed.

But all Tattletale could feel was fear.



-----

As usual, please comment and review. The next and final chapter for this arc will take around 2 weeks. Also, I still haven't decided if the red-haired girl that Makima ate should be Emma or not, let me know what you guys think.
 
"Perhaps. But if I do nothing, hundreds of thousands will die. If it means saving the city and its residents, I cannot justify sitting on the sideline and doing nothing if there is even the slightest chance I could make a difference."

BWAHAHAHAHA Gods! I love seeing Marina spew such bullshit! It's hilarious!

Also, I find it so funny that Rebecca was so worried she'd be just another Jack Slash, and she's gotten the ability that made him so effective in the first place! Ha!

I will say though, I doubt Makima is relying on shards to manipulate them, at least fully. It feels more likely to me that she's experimenting on how to best Control parahumans through their shards; you wouldn't use the same methodology on a shaker and a brute, or individuals with a shard-cape relationship like Panacea/Leet's vs Bonesaw's shard. It's just so fun to see it!

Let's be real, even without her powers (and what powers!), Makima has been the Control Devil for... a really long time. I'd eat my left sock if she wasn't able to manipulate a bunch of traumatized teenagers, teens or not. I can see Tattletale having a little more resistance, what with her shard being able to detect things like Makima's lack of microexpressions, mayve even her lack of shard... but let's be real, a bit of poking at her need to be the Absolutely Smartest Person in the Room, Arrogance What's That Never Heard of Her, and she'd be putty on her hands.

Ah, I also wonder whether Kenta is under her control. Part of me thought she was rilling him up to make him fight Levi (since he gets stronger the more fearful/pissed he is), and Makima never came out as particularly... sadistic? To me? Don't get me wrong, she's absolutely an unhinged psychopath with no morals and an even lesser sense of restraint, but cruelty for cruelty's sake isn't something I'd attribute to her. More like cruelty with fifteen other, unrelated goals to further. (Speaking of which, what are Makima's goals? Does she want to be a revered superhero? To learn more about shards? To get her old power back? World Domination? Aaah, I can't wait to see more~)

But that's just me going on a tangent. Just wanted to say this story rocks!


Edit: Hmm, Emma was the person to first come to mind when you mentioned a cowering redhead. On one hand, it would be a fitting end; killed by something infinitely more powerful, with no regard for her, who won't even remember her. On the other, it does seem a bit cliché, what with the amount of people that should have been left in the city. I guess it's a matter of what'll be more useful? Like, if you want to excuse Emma a bit to see how Taylor (or another character) ticks, or... something, keep her alive. If you were gonna use Emma's death for Taylor to discover, that's interesting too. Idk, either is fine by me, even if she doesn't appear again.
 
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Let's be real, even without her powers (and what powers!), Makima has been the Control Devil for... a really long time. I'd eat my left sock if she wasn't able to manipulate a bunch of traumatized teenagers, teens or not.
Thank you for the lengthy review, I'm glad you are enjoying the story.! Yeah, I would agree that Makima manipulating bunch of hormonal teenagers should be a cake walk.
Makima never came out as particularly... sadistic
In the manga, the only time that Makima smiles is when she is killing someone or Manipulating Denji. Also, she burst out laughing right after she utterly ruined his life so I would argue that she is pretty sadistic.
 
Chapter 6
Beta Read by: In the Name of Love, and Axiomat

I know I said I would be posting the chapter on the 17th but I'm bad with time so it's here 8 days early. Enjoy the final chapter for the Leviathan arc!

----------

Makima was a blur.

Her ponytail and bangs, soaked from the pouring rain, whipped and danced in the carving wind as she moved at supersonic speeds invisible to the naked eye. Every step was a staccato of gunfire as her feet caved into the earth below, leaving imprints in stone.

The falling raindrops struck her body with the force and lethality of a low-caliber round as she ran, her sheer velocity making up for their lack of momentum and mass. If the uniform of Devil Hunters hadn't been made from materials far superior to ordinary cloth, it would have been a beehive of holes.

Her path was filled with nuisances in the form of abandoned cars, crumbling ruins, and newly formed lakes. Mere annoyances at best, and avoiding them would have been trivial. A single leap would have carried her half a mile into the distance, and at her speed, running on water would have been no different than on dry land.

Instead, her invisible force ripped through all, manufacturing an open road paved for a single presence.

The Control Devil did not bother counting the number of cars or buildings she had destroyed, nor did she stop to think for a moment of the devastation she had inflicted on their owners. Her mind was fixated solely on what she had seen. Of a world more alien to humans than Hell itself. A dimension that was utterly foreign, even to Devils.

As she was recovering from that near-fatal blow, her birds and rats heard rumors of a man who had supposedly triumphed over the same creature plaguing her. Understandably, her interest was piqued. It did not take long for her to gather intelligence about this man; his name was on the lips of many. While much of what she heard was mere rumors and hearsay, some details had enough commonality to form a complete picture.

She needed pawns and was not foolish enough to waste the time the heroes had so selflessly bought. Thankfully, Lung fulfilled her needs to the toe in more ways than one.

Halfway through that fight, Makima was forced to admit she had blundered. She had toyed with the dog for amusement and had nearly been bitten for her troubles.

At the climax, his power had reached heights that threatened even her. His flames were excruciating, and his sheer strength surpassed Leviathan's. A single mistake would have been fatal.

But while he had the exterior of a dragon, he possessed the heart of a whimpering mutt. When adversity became too great, his will was broken with his power, having not a sliver of courage or a fraction of Denji's foolhardy valor.

To think that such power was in the hands of someone so worthless….

As he struggled in her grasp, she took his everything. His mind, his body, and even his very soul. But when she took his power, her chain connecting to its source…

What came to view was a marvel of untold proportions.

An island of bloody crystals floated above infinite darkness where space churned and folded, fluctuating stochastically in an indecipherable rhythm. It was a place of infinite mass, yet with definite boundaries—singular but connected to a greater whole, a mere spec within a boundless web.

Within the island stood a bizarre entity, an avatar of its function.

Makima stared in wonder, and the entity stared back in equal… no, greater fascination. Whatever alarm he had at her intrusion paled in comparison to his curiosity. Words were exchanged in incomprehensible mediums, but every emotion was felt with clarity. He was both sentient, though oblivious. Intelligent, but childlike.

As time passed in the nanoseconds, the avatar's fascination only grew, swelling well past mere interest and into obsession. To her shame, she flinched at its intensity and abruptly ended their connection.

When she returned to the world, she found it to have been irreversibly changed. A thin whispery line, no thicker than a strand of yarn, flowed from Lung's head and into the skies. To a place that was above but also below. To a place to her left, but also her right. Somewhere too far for her eyes to see and too twisted for her mind to discern.

Lung's line was joined by tens of thousands of its kind, spread throughout the horizon and filling the air with threads of light, all heading for the same destination while a small minority veered somewhere else.

Makima had seen much but learned little in her brief encounter with the avatar. Many thoughts filled her mind. What was it that she had seen? Why did they grant these humans powers? What was their purpose?

The sheer amount of questions that needed answering was vexing.

To control, it was not enough to be powerful. Batons and guns were the methods of an amateur, temporary at best, and no amount would ever move a person's heart. The greatest tool in establishing control was not armies and weapons but empathy. To know a subject's motivations, tics, and desires was to hold dominion over him. Just like how a man could turn on the lights by understanding the use of a switch, Makima could manipulate others by understanding them.

In other words, knowledge was the power to control.

And to not know was to lack that control.

Without understanding these Avatars and their network, she could not control them.

To Makima… To the Control Devil… It was unacceptable.

More than anything, that had to be fixed. She would learn. She would take. She would dominate and conquer.

Then, everything these Avatars had to offer would be hers.

But a thorough analysis could only be done by examining multiple variables.

She needed more parahumans.

With a burst of speed, she leaped into the direction of the nearest two lines, reaching them in seconds.

The feathered woman was trembling underneath the rain, too petrified and frightened to do anything other than sob. The other seemed to be at work, building some mechanical contraption.

The moment Makima appeared before their eyes, their reaction was immediate. The crying woman shrieked in horror, falling to her bottom as she backpaddled away, only to be stopped by a wall barring her path. The other was far more uncouth, wild and rabid with her empty threats of violence as she withdrew a round cylindrical device. But despite her bravado, the fear in her eyes spoke the words she could not.

The Control Devil took them both, their respective expressions of fear and anger turning into one of empty tranquility.

With every parahuman that fell under her control, she was met with another island and its avatar. While remarkably different in shape and color, the sentient entities greeted her with the same enthusiasm as the first. But unlike her first meeting, Makima prepared herself mentally.

What she learned was that these Avatars were a symbiote, granting power in exchange for data. But beyond that, she learned frighteningly little. This was not a power she understood. These entities were so foreign in nature that she doubted she could use their full strength.

It was not enough. She needed more.

Without a second to waste, she ran toward a group of lines bunched together only to find them under attack by Leviathan. Careful to avoid his vile, false blood, Makima disposed of the lumbering mass. She would not allow him to deprive her of such valuable resources.

Once the annoyance was removed, she moved to subdue the group but stopped moments before acting as passion drained away and logic returned. Despite his pathetic nature, Lung had proven to be a threat, forcing her to recalculate the danger these parahumans posed.

Attacking so many unknowns that seemed to be affiliated with a greater organization while under siege by a city-ending monster was not just unwise; it was a mistake. She knew too little about this new world and even less about these parahumans. Any error could have her hunted by the rest of the world.

Caution was of necessity, and she had safer ways to access their avatars.

Contracts.

Unfortunately, that plan fell apart when this… Miss Militia vehemently set herself as an opposition.

Fortunately, Makima discovered that she could still speak to the avatars just by being in the proximity of their hosts. Her connection to the previous avatars seemed to have bonded her to a broader network.

Like before, the avatars responded with vigor. Curiosity and interest bleeding from their minds.

All except one.

The avatar of Miss Militia answered only with hostility similar to that of his host.

Makima was tempted to press the issue or take them by force, but there would be plenty of future opportunities. Patience was all that was needed; this would not be the last time they met.

In the end, she bore them farewell and wished them good fortune with sincerity lacking deceit. After all, it would be difficult to access the avatars if their hosts were corpses drifting in the ocean.

But before facing Leviathan, she had one more thing to take care of.

*****

"You… You died," Alexandria said.

"Did I? I must not have been notified."

The superheroine tensed, floating in the air along with her fellow green-clad superhero after having come to a stop upon meeting a dead person. Such an occurrence was a cause to celebrate, especially during wartime. But Alexandria exuded not relief but thinly veiled hostility kept down only through discipline.

The reason for the antagonism was a mystery. The caped woman could have somehow witnessed her recent dozen or so murders. Considering how diverse parahuman abilities seemed to be, it was indeed possible. But the dislike had been present since they had first met.

"Her armband must have broken," Eidolon hypothesized.

If his colleague heard, she showed no sign of it nor much interest. Her arms were crossed under her chest as her cape billowed in the wind, giving off an expression of relaxed confidence as she stared down at the only grounded member of the party. But despite her apparent calmness, the coiled muscles of her frame and the tautness of her tendons spoke a different story.

In response, Makima merely smiled, hiding her displeasure in a mask of civility. She was forced to look up while Alexandria looked down due to the elevation difference. One spoke of control and the other, submission, and she was so rarely not the former.

Exasperated, Eidolon interrupted the silence. "Makima, was it? It's good to see that you are safe. Would you like a lift? We're leaving."

"Leaving? I'm impressed."

"…..With?"

"I was on my way to give whatever aid possible, but I did not expect Leviathan to have been defeated so quickly. The greatest heroes indeed."

Eidolon paused, taking a moment to digest what was said fully.

"…You misunderstand," he said bitterly.

"Did I? What other reason could there be for a hero to leave a crisis other than the elimination of the threat?"

"There is no 'eliminating' an Endbringer," Alexandria snapped. "Not that I would expect some foreigner to understand."

"I had not taken you for a xenophobe."

"Quit the games. You know what I'm talking about. Unless you've lived in the boonies all your life, no one is clueless enough not to know Leviathan. I do not know what your Earth is like, but there is no victory against an Endbringer, and don't you dare presume otherwise."

"So you choose to run?"

"I choose to be rational," Alexandria corrected. "Something that you seem to lack out of arrogance."

"Arrogance?"

"What else would you call someone who dictates the course of action despite being oblivious to reality? There is a time to fight and a time to retreat. This is the latter."

"Even if it meant condemning hundreds of thousands to death?" Makima asked.

"Just because we are not suicidal does not mean we don't care," Alexandria snarled. "Fighting would just mean adding two more to that score."

"Ah… So that's the problem. You have already lost."

Alexandria scowled. "That is obvious."

"Not like that," Makima said. "This world has become used to defeat, having never tasted victory. You fight not to win but to lose less. You enter battle expecting defeat, which is why you will never win. It is a depressing mentality and explains why this city is so diseased despite having a vaccine. After all, why do better when there is no future?"

"Do you think life is a movie? Where the protagonist turns the tides against all odds with nothing but hope? Optimism is worthless and will not save this city, much less the world. To think otherwise is the height of ignorance."

"Ignorance? That is one of the many blessings I do not have. I am new to this world, but I would be blind not to recognize the despair when it is plastered on every face, wall, and road."

"People are in despair because the city is under attack by a city killer. The infrastructure is in ruins because of the rain and flood," Alexandria scoffed.

"No, the problem stems much deeper. My world is much the same as yours. Half the population dies before seniority, and the remaining half live their lives only to see their works crumble. There is no sense of charity, kindness, or hope for a better future. That sense of hopelessness becomes so cloying that it is reflected in their physical surroundings as it has with Brockton Bay. The same despair that plagues my world plagues yours."

"I hate having to repeat myself. There is no victory. Do not act like you are innocent despite being the perpetrator of this entire mess," Alexandria seethed, tightly gripping her arms in anger. "Leviathan attacked weeks early at the time and location of your arrival using tactics never before seen, not to mention his strange persistence regarding you."

"I admit I know too little about these Endbringers to comment, but let us say you are correct. So what?"

"What?"

"Perhaps my arrival resulted in disaster, but that does not change your duty. Failure means condemning this city and its people to their deaths. Are you so valuable that you cannot afford to put your life on the line for thousands?"

Alexandria struck the ground with an earth-shattering crash, landing on her knees as dust and stone exploded in a 360-degree radius.

"Do not speak to me about duty," she hissed, rising to her full height mere centimeters away from Makima. "I have lost, sacrificed, and forfeited more than you could possibly imagine."

"Then one more shouldn't matter."

The superheroine laughed, one of bitterness and mockery. "For this city? Brockton Bay is dead. I have already lost too much in this land; it's not worth the risk of losing two triumvirate members."

"A young lady asked me the same question," Makima calmly said in contrast to her rage-filled counterpart. "She didn't seem to think this city was worth fighting for. But she would be hurt to know that you agree."

"Good, she is wise. Far more than you," she said coldly, although Makima could hear a tint of self-loathing in her voice.

"Alexandria, we need to leave," Eidolon interrupted, floating down to the ground. "Ms. Makima, please reconsider. Think of the battles in the future, on how many lives you could save. But all that disappears if you die here."

"I look forward to fighting with you in the future, Eidolon. But I will not leave."

"Ms. Maki-"

"Leave her," Alexandria interrupted. "If she wishes to die so badly, who are we to stop her."

Eidolon turned, facing his comrade. "Don't let your emotions dictate your words, Alexandria."

"She's right," Makima added. "If things become unfavorable, I will retreat."

Eidolon paused, looking back and forth towards the two women before sighing. "Very well then. Just be careful. I will see you in Boston Alexandria," he said before taking off to the horizon.

Alexandria remained as she was, arms crossed over her chest.

"Should you not get going? After all, your life is a precious commodity," Makima asked.

Disappointingly, Alexandria did not rise to the bait. Instead, the anger dimmed into a cool ember as she let out a tired breath.

"I think we have gotten off the wrong foot. I will apologize for my behavior; it has been a harrowing day for us all," she said, softly. "Come with us; this is no place for you to die."

"Alexandria," Makima started. "When hope is crushed too many times, people become afraid to dream. You may have said that optimism was worthless, but you wouldn't be fighting if you didn't wish that something would be different one day. I have seen a child win against the impossible with nothing but the belief in victory. I would not be so quick to discount hope; it is my reason for living, after all."

The superheroine did not respond. For several moments, she was silent. While a mask covered her face, Makima could see something flicker across her eyes through the narrow slits.

"You will regret staying," Alexandria said finally.

"You will regret leaving."

With a burst of air, the caped heroine vanished into the skies above. Her line that detracted from the majority quickly became a single strand among many.

It had been unwise to antagonize someone so influential, but Makima had no choice.

She was currently a nobody, a problem that had to be corrected immediately. But it was not due to mere ego that she sought prestige. Reputation was a power of its own and would allow her to form a sphere of influence without bending to the regional authorities. Once she eliminated Leviathan, doors that would have been otherwise closed would be opened.

If the Triumvirate had stayed, any victory would have been attributed to them. So, she had targeted Alexandria, who seemed to be the more emotionally vulnerable to leaving.

Much time was wasted in the process, but Leviathan seemed content with waiting at a harbor filled with rusting ships as if he knew she was coming.

It would be rude to let him wait any longer than he already had. While she could be cruel, she was not ill-mannered enough to be discourteous.

Makima broke the sound barrier as she vaulted into the air, flying over any obstacle that inadvertently blocked her path. Within seconds, Makima stood face to face with Leviathan, barely 100 meters apart.

"My, oh my. You have certainly been through the grinder."

Even when she had been mortally wounded, she had never once lost sight of Leviathan. Her birds had scoured the skies, tracking the Endbringer as he fought through the city. But it was only now that she could truly appreciate his disheveled form.

Her most decisive blows had merely cracked his skin, failing to inflict any lucrative damage, but these parahumans had ripped away so much flesh that he looked skeletal. It was not often Makima was impressed, but she had to admit that the heroes had fought as spectacularly as they had died. Watching them sacrifice their lives to save another from an impossible adversary was a sight to behold, far superior to any scripted scene from a movie.

While it seemed like a breeze could topple the thirty-foot-tall bag of sticks and bones, she was fully aware that he was no less dangerous. She had watched how he had dismantled the Protectorate heroes, deceiving his enemies with false weaknesses. He had played them, feigning injury before luring them into a trap.

The cunning was impressive but not remarkable enough to work a second time. She would repay the heroes who had footed her lesson bill with their lives by granting them what they could only dream of.

Makima Ability Activation: Lung

Power coursed through every cell within her body at the growing anticipation of combat, rapidly multiplying every aspect of her abilities, whether physical or immaterial. But while her strength grew by the second, no scale erupted from her skin, and no fire bloomed from her hands.

While her connection to Lung was stable, these parahuman powers had been tailored for humans, making it difficult for a Devil like herself to harness their full potential. Lung's Avatar had promised a solution, but Makima considered it a blessing in disguise. Turning into a colossal dragon with additional limbs would have hampered her combat ability, not enhanced.

The two combatants stood motionlessly as neither made the first move. Like the calm before the storm, silence engulfed the soon-to-be battlefield with only the sound of the pouring rain and crashing waves for accompaniment.

Seconds passed into minutes, but not a twitch could be seen.

Makima narrowed her eyes, frowning internally. Time was on her side. Every passing second added to her strength, so she welcomed the respite, but…

What is he waiting for?

Suspicion gnawed in the back of her mind like maggots, her honed instincts whispering that something was amiss. Leviathan had repeatedly shown tactical ingenuity. He would not waste time fruitlessly, meaning that this stillness was also to his advantage.

With her escalation slowing from the lack of stimuli, there was no need to wait any longer. If her suspicions were true, she needed to disrupt whatever he was planning. Makima extended her hand, a finger pointing at Leviathan, and fired a telekinetic force.

Her attack was true as her aim, striking him dead within his center and puncturing a hole through the chest from front to back before his form collapsed into a puddle.

A clone?

Makima caught a flash of movement from the corner of her eyes. Leviathan rushed to the side, juking without rhythm or rhyme as his after-echoes flooded the docks.

Tracking with her finger, Makima fired once more. Distance was almost meaningless to the invisible force. But the moment it reached his body, an after-echo boosted him out of harm's way with a sudden burst of speed, leaving behind only a watery image.

She fired again and again, altering the force's speed and radius, but every attack ended in failure.

Makima blinked. For the nth time that day, she was flabbergasted.

Her assault was nearly instantaneous and had no visible tells. To dodge was almost impossible and to dodge repeatedly was impossible. Even if he was tracking her aim, he should not have known when she would strike.

Leviathan closed more distance with every following miss. In moments, he loomed before her, slashing his talons diagonally-

-and bisected her from shoulder to opposite hip. Leviathan stumbled as he swept past, almost in surprise as if he had not expected his attack to land.

Torso falling and legs toppling, Makima turned, pointing at his back.

"Bang."

Her attack hit nothing but water as Leviathan nimbly recovered from his mistake and leaped to the side with dizzying speed.

Makima Contract Activation: Lung

While distance separated Makima and her latest tool, his veins connected to her own as his blood poured into hers, nourishing and mending her torn flesh. Tendons burst from both portions of her body and reached for the other like a tangling vine, hauling her upper and lower halves into a complete whole.

Her gambit had accomplished little, but she had learned much.

When she allowed Leviathan's attack to land, he stumbled. His recovery was immediate, but there had been a point in time when his thought and movement were dyssynchronous. It showed that he could make mistakes if reality did not coincide with his expectations.

But more importantly, she had grasped his range of vision. When she fired, she aimed not for his center but his left flank. In response, Leviathan leaped to his right, selecting the most optimal path for escape despite having no way to see her aim with his back turned.

He was not merely predicting and avoiding with his sense of timing; he was accurately seeing everything around him, meaning that targeting his blind spots was meaningless.

Her arms shot to the side, forming a thin barrier against the tail whip that slapped into her right. Instead of resisting the impact, Makima flowed with it, allowing it to send her flying and creating valuable distance. Despite her increasing durability, her arms were shattered. She felt no less than 7 breaks on her right and 9 on her left, along with 5 fractures across 3 ribs.

Blood flowed from Lung's veins into her own, healing her of all ailments and snapping her broken skeleton back together.

Feet skidding across the wet pavement, Makima shot three bursts of her force, not at the charging Endbringer but at the areas surrounding him. The first was aimed at the space encompassing his head while the other two sped towards his two flanks so that he would still be clipped if he tried to move out of the way.

But the monstrosity did not dodge to his left, right, or even above. Instead, he dived into a roll, tucking in his arms, legs, and tail while bending at his waist into a ball as her attacks passed by harmlessly.

If she was unsure before, she was certain now.

Leviathan could see her invisible force.

Somehow, he could discern something that cast no shadow and reflected no light. There was no radiation to detect, and even its shape and size were variable to her will. Yet, Leviathan dodged with certainty. There was no hesitation in his evasion, meaning it was no luck or guesswork. Despite the impossibility, he knew exactly where her attacks would go and what areas they would encompass.

Makima pondered the possibility of precognition like the Future Devil, but Leviathan would not have fallen for her last gambit if he had that ability. She needed to determine his method of perception before she could form any decisive strategies.

She leaned under a talon that swept over her head, barely dodging a cut that aimed to separate her into two. But Leviathan turned with the swing, adding rotational momentum into his tail that sliced at her midsection. She jumped backward, leaping out of reach, but an after-echo sprang from the tail's tip and bisected her in half.

Flesh erupted as her body healed even as she was being cut, only for her arms to be sliced off by a taloned uppercut that caught her from below.

For reasons unbeknownst to her, Leviathan was slower and weaker than before. She would have attributed it to his injuries if she had not seen him fight beforehand. But despite the decrease in his physical attributes, he fought with incredible fluidity and skill that made up for his deficits a dozen times over. Unlike their first battle, he fought not with the ruthless savagery that could overwhelm the unskilled but with the patience and planning of a Devil Hunter facing a far superior foe.

But what truly concerned her was not what he had revealed but what he had not. Leviathan had yet to employ his greatest weapon, the sea, despite being in its direct proximity. No wave struck the shores, and the water was as calm as a still lake. At first, she suspected trickery like the one that had slain the Protectorate, but the rats she had placed deep underground had not detected any unusual activity.

Makima retreated as Leviathan advanced. He slashed, swiped, and thrust a hundred times over in a tenth of the time as her flesh was gashed and her bones sawed. In 16 minutes and 32 seconds, she had suffered 16 amputations of the limbs, 3 beheadings, 1 impalement, and 8 bisections across multiple planes.

Every wound was unpleasant, but the pain paled compared to the indignity she suffered as her once fine clothing turned into a beggar's rags. Hopefully, this world had an equivalent to the Cloth Devil.

Eventually, Leviathan learned that cutting her into pieces was a futile endeavor. Instead of slashing with his talons, he bludgeoned with his mauled fist, trying and failing to crush her into a paste.

Makima lunged under the tail that sought not to cut but to seize and charged. She pivoted, launching a crescent kick at his leg as soon as he was within striking distance. But Leviathan easily put himself out of harm's way by taking a single step back. She advanced, trying to press her advantage but the momentum was already lost.

Her maximum physical attack range was three feet, while Leviathan could strike up to forty feet away. With over a dozen times the difference in range, the Endbringer was able to dominate the pace and intensity of the battle. With his superior height and long limbs, he masterfully kept himself out of her reach while always keeping her within his. Even her invisible force, the only ranged offense she had available, was useless as each blast failed to scrape their target.

This is getting ridiculous…

She theorized that Leviathan saw the world through vibrations like some insects, but the destructive capabilities of her invisible force were so great that low-density masses such as air were instantly obliterated before it could even vibrate, making it an excellent tool for a silent kill. Even objects with a higher density like rain-

Oh.

Oh…


The Control Devil paused for a single moment, no longer than a heartbeat. But it was a moment that Leviathan did not waste. Ground cracking under his feet, he sped forward, crossing the same distance he had previously struggled to maintain under a microsecond. His sudden acceleration enhanced the vertical haymaker that was sent pounding down upon the vertex of her head like a hammer meant to flatten a bug.

The blow connected with the sound of cannon fire. The resulting shockwave blew away every drop of moisture within the radius, momentarily creating an artificial dry zone.

But Makima could not be moved. Leviathan might as well have struck a mountain with straw.

While the Earth exploded under her feet and her legs were nailed under its soil, not a drop of blood escaped her skin and not a tilt could be seen from her head. Leviathan froze, disbelieving and in confusion.

Her tender hand gently caressed the jagged fist that rested upon her hair, briefly palming it before thrusting it aside. The sudden application of force crippled Leviathan's balance, but any weakness was brief, and he recovered instantly from the surprise.

The Endbringer twisted as he struck, a backhand whistling towards her side from the same limb she had tossed away, but she knelt under the blow and raised a hand above her head. From her fingertip detonated an invisible force, aimed not at Leviathan but at the sky above, emptying it of water for a mile away.

From her kneeling position, she leaped over a tail that punctured the same ground she had previously occupied.

Pointing down, her force sped through the air.

This time, it could not be dodged.

Leviathan was stabbed into the ground, buried under multiple tons of stone and dirt as the harbor was separated by long cavernous cracks that reached the very outskirts of the city. Dead ships were flipped upside down while the lighter vessels were flung into the air as the sea they resided upon tossed and turned, not by Leviathan's hand but from the tremors caused by the singular impact.

It seemed so obvious in hindsight that the creature that controlled water would see the world through water. He had known the exact size, shape, and velocity of her force from the raindrops it removed from the air.

Once she took the step to eliminate the falling rain beforehand, he was blind to the next attack. He had still been able to react to her leap, probably due to the fluids that clung to the little bits of clothing that remained and possibly her blood, but it was of little matter.

She had learned what she needed, and multiple plans to counteract his perception formed within her mind.

There was no need to hold back any longer.

Leviathan burst from the ground in an explosion of dirt, but all that greeted him on the surface was the rear of her foot. Black blood burst as the skin and flesh of his face was crushed by a soccer kick to the chin, sending him spinning across docks. Leviathan turned as he flew, balancing himself to land on his feet. But before those feet could even touch the ground, Makima appeared behind him with speed resembling teleportation.

Her hand shot out, gripping him by the throat mid-air and slammed him into the ground. One hand immobilized the Endbringer while the other pummeled down upon his face with Earth-shaking blows. A sound resembling artillery bombardment resonated throughout the city so loudly that every conscious soul could hear the cacophonic noise.

But Leviathan was no gentle lamb to be slaughtered. A clawed talon flashed into her flank, but Makima simply grabbed the offending limb, halting it in its tracks. A forty-fool tail slammed into her back with the force of a warhead, but she showed no signs of having been struck.

Makima tore and shredded Leviathan's neck and head without respite. The talons that had cleaved her flesh like a butcher's knife now bounced off her skin, and the fists that had broken bone failed to leave a bruise.

Even as the Endbringer resisted, the Devil ripped into his flesh, taking small bits of pleasure in his struggles. She was unsure if he felt pain but seeing him writhe like a worm fluttered joy into her heart.

But suddenly, the ground darkened as if the sun was blotted out. Pausing mid-punch, Makima turned, only to be greeted by a wave of cataclysmic proportions.

The wave stretched throughout the entire horizon and reached into the very heavens. It was a wave that could drown all of Brockton bay, but Makima knew its purpose was not to sink the city but to sink her.

She had been bidding her time throughout the fight, allowing Leviathan the upper hand until her strength had grown to the point that it could overwhelm him. She had wondered why no wave had struck the shore, why he had restricted himself to a melee when the entire sea was his sword and shield.

Now she knew.

Like herself, Leviathan had been delaying, building up power until he could unleash a killing blow of his own.

In the brief time she was distracted, Leviathan shifted underneath and threw her off with a sudden burst of strength. Like a snake in the dunes, he slithered away, rushing towards the approaching wave.

She made no move to stop him; there were more significant concerns. Once the wave reached the city, Brockton Bay would be finished, and everything she had fought for would be for naught. She intended to be the savior of this city and establish her power base within its borders, but that required the city to survive.

Gathering her strength, she swept her hand across the horizon. From her palm erupted an invisible force, far beyond in power and magnitude than anything she had ever wielded. The force curved as it flew, expanding multiple miles and cutting through the encroaching wave like a blade.

The wave collapsed, having been excised from its currents.

But while the biblical disaster fell, the million tons of displaced water had to go somewhere.

Makima gripped a fallen anchor as the flood crashed into her, resisting the currents that engulfed the remnants of the docks.

Something flashed before her eyes.

The next thing she knew, she was drifting away with the tide. The arm that had been hanging on to an anchor had been sliced off along with everything below her breasts.

Before her lost body parts could regenerate, she was seized by a taloned hand that covered her wounds so her severed flesh could not reconnect. Leviathan held her in his palm, like a doll in the hands of a child. Makima did not struggle or resist. She did not bother with futile efforts. The moment she was underwater, the battle was over.

She had lost…

But the Control Devil smiled.

"Save me, Lung."

A magnificent roar tore through the world, shaking and reverberating every atom deeply enough to be felt underwater. Her vision turned white as the water boiled, a lake's worth of liquid turning into gas in under a second. Leviathan barely had enough time to turn before a 30-foot-tall flaming dragon slammed into him, forcing the Endbringer to drop her to contend with a foe he had not seen for a decade.

Teeth snapped as claws locked against talons. The two rolled on the desert dry ground in a tumble of limbs and tail, biting and ripping with abandon. Talons and claws met flesh, showering the battlefield in a rain of black and red. But the rainfall of blood was brief. Lung's flames burned white hot, severing through every molecule of liquid within a hundred meters as the sea of water struggled against the sea of fire. While all the docks were buried underwater, a single circular area surrounded by the sea remained dry, like an arena dedicated to monsters.

A third competitor, more monstrous than the rest, joined the coliseum.

Makima flashed across the field, intercepting a fleeing Leviathan who had managed to disentangle from Lung.

The Endbringer aimed high.

The Devil aimed low.

A daggered hand missed, slicing through nothing but air.

But she did not; her low kick hammered into his painfully thin ankle.

Even as Leviathan stumbled, Makima continued to flow in a synergy of skill and speed. She spun with the grace of a ballet dancer and the ferocity of a whirlwind, every spin adding momentum and power to the second low kick that bashed into his second ankle.

The bloody mass toppled to the ground with both of his bases broken. He hurriedly recovered, leaping to his feet with surprising elegance and tried to escape the circle of fire, but it was too late. Lung was already upon him. Water burst from the surroundings in spears the size of skyscrapers as the two struggled once more, but every drop was burned away before they could come close.

Luckily, it seemed that she had obtained Lung's resistance to fire even if she could not control the same flames. Otherwise, the heat would have been debilitating. Her clothing however, lacked the same resistance and what little remained became ash.

Leviathan's talons pierced and shredded through Lung, silver scales falling apart like glistening pearls. The dragon with the heart of a mutt screamed in pain. His roar came to a halt only when he claimed Leviathan's throat with his jaw, black blood drying away as fast as it burst out.

A lance in the form of a tail pierced through the dragon's chest, forcing him to cough a bloody wheeze. Nevertheless, like a well-trained dog, Lung held on, biting and refusing to let go. But as the battle progressed, Makima could see he was faltering. The changes were minute, but his regeneration was becoming slower, his flames weaker, and his size smaller.

Makima sighed in disappointment. Even with her power augmenting his escalation, a leopard could not change his spots. His craven nature was difficult to overcome.

"Fight," she ordered, her voice clear despite the chaotic cacophony of noise. "Fight until you die."

As if receiving a message from God, Lung roared and attacked with renewed vigor, his strength escalating once more upon her command as he bit and clawed with greater ferocity. Grabbing the tail still embedded in his lungs, the dragon tore it out of his chest. Four of his hands gripped four of Leviathan's limbs and his tail coiled around the Endbringer's, keeping the appendage in place.

Taking a deep inhale, Lung breathed out. Instead of air, white flame spilled from his throat, torching and burning Leviathan's face until his flesh began to melt into a molten red. Incapacitated and forced onto the ground, the Endbringer could do nothing to resist

Eventually, the flames ceased, but his ordeal was not over. In place of flames, a small hand, pitiful in size compared to Lung's gripped his face. But from the palm detonated a force far more potent than any conflagration.

Makima struck with her invisible force, blasting one after the other and digging the trio deeper underground as thousands of tons of ashen dirt and melting rock were excavated. She did not count how many times she had fired, but Leviathan's head was now merely a seventh of his original size.

He struggled with all his might, but it was to no avail. The combined strength of his foes had proved too much for him to contend with. Makima was winning, but all she could feel was annoyance.

I cannot kill him.

Her strength, escalating by the second, rapidly receded as the danger became minimal. Her force carved his flesh, but every following strike dug shallower than the previous until it became practically impotent.

"Fly," she ordered.

Four leathery wings expanded into an overarching arc of 100 feet in span. With a heave of force, the wings flapped down, buffeting the area in a gust as he lifted off into the air with an unwilling passenger. Leviathan desperately tried to resist, slashing with his talons and stabbing with his tail. But Lung's limbs immobilized the Endbringer's potent weapons, and whatever meager damage inflicted was healed within seconds.

The sea rose with the two to stop the ascension. But Lung's size belayed his surprising speed as he rocketed far faster than it could rise. The rain in the skies condensed into a sea of its own and struck down like a spear, only to be met by a hot dense jet of flame with such heat that the fluids were disintegrated down to their molecular structure. The Dragon's fire flared so brightly that it was as if the overcast skies were illuminated by a second sun.

It was an unbelievable shame that she could not defeat Leviathan. Even if she could not control him, his corpse would have been invaluable. But he had proven himself far too durable to kill, even at her greatest. At the rate she was losing strength, it would have been a matter of time before the tables were turned.

With calm in contrast to the turbulent sea below and the raging blaze above, Makima raised her hands, cupping one over the other with a palm as her fingertip aligned with the wriggling masses that struggled for dominance in the firmament.

"Bang."

The two gargantuan beings were struck simultaneously. Two halves of a dragon toppled back to Earth, flames pouring from his gullet as his body was severed by something amorphous. Silver scales fell like shattered glass, shining as they caught the light of the sun and scarlet blood poured down with the rain with bits of flesh mixed in between.

But to Leviathan, the invisible force was not a knife that cut but a mighty shove into the very stars. The Endbringer rose dozens of miles into the air, breaking the sound barrier and more. An object needed to travel at 17,000 miles per hour to escape Earth's gravity, and Leviathan traveled at several times that speed.

"Bang."

Just as Leviathan slowed its ascent at the very border of the atmosphere, he was struck again by something that could not be seen and forced into the pitch black of space, far past the cosmic metal and dust that orbited the world below. After-echoes burst from his body, trying to propel him back into the dirt planet like a jet. But against the forced acceleration, his efforts were tantamount to stopping a plummeting mountain with a water hose.

"Bang."

The lack of air and gravity accelerated Leviathan to new heights as he passed the moon's pull so rapidly that his trajectory could not be altered. He fumbled and flailed, fruitlessly trying to stop his momentum.

"Bang."

"Bang."

"Bang."

"Bang."

"Bang."

"Bang."

"Bang."

Every blow that crashed into the Endbringer propelled him further into the darkness between stars. Nothing impeded his travel and every strike added to his propulsion as he reached unimaginable speeds, traveling one hundred thousand kilometers a second as he blazed past Venus, his velocity too great to be caught by the planet of vanity.

"Bang."

Leviathan sped through the empty void, with no other life in sight. Without a single molecule of water, the Endbringer was effectively blind. He could not appreciate the magnificence of space or the light of the shimmering stars, a sight many would have clamored to see. He continued to fly in the vacuum, invisible impacts striking periodically until an object finally barred his path. With speed and force beyond any falling meteor, the bloodied form of the Sinker of cities met the harsh, barren soil of Mercury.

One broke.

---------

I will be writing a PHO interlude on the premise that Uber and Leet recorded the entire Leviathan battle from front to end. If there is something you guys want to say while acting like a worm-verse netizen regarding this fight, post it up and I will add it if it is applicable.

Omake: Fight Summary

Makima: Hah! You activated my trap card!

Leviathan: Nu-uh, not so fast, I activate my trap card to counter your trap card!

Makima: Blast! Is what I would say if I didn't have ANOTHER trap card!

-----
As usual, I would appreciate any and all reviews in my writing, especially regarding the dialouge and fight scenes
 
This is a compiled list of every supernatural ability that Makima currently possesses as of the latest chapter.

Parahuman Powers (These powers are currently limited due to Shards being incompatible with Devils although that may change in the future)

Lung
-Escalation: Every attribute of every power Makima possesses increases with time according to the level of threat posed against her. Affects her other abilities as well. Escalation is slower and not as potent as Lung's.
-Fire Resistance: High-Level resistance to flames

Canary
-Charisma: Humans will find her voice more compelling and attractive to listen to

Bakuda
- Explosive technopath: Intuitive understanding of explosives. Knowledge of their function, composition, and destructive radius.

Contracts (Powers obtained by Contracts besides Parahuman abilities)

- Lung (Blood Transfer): Every time Makima is wounded, blood from Lung's body is automatically transported into Makima's, healing her of all ailments

Control Devil Abilities (Abilities unique to her as the Control Devil)

- Escalation through Fear: The more people are afraid of the concept of Domination and Conquest, the more powerful Makima becomes.

- Force Manipulation: Allows Makima to offensively manipulate an invisible, telekinetic force to pierce, bludgeon, or decapitate foes. Is not Manton Limited, and can be used to destroy a person's internal organs with just a glance.

- Domination: Able to control behavior, memories, and thoughts of anyone she deems inferior to her.

- Domination Subset Ability, Sensory: Makima can borrow the senses of lifeforms under her control to hear, see, and feel through their bodies. There is no range limitation and can work through multiple dimensions.

- Domination Subset Ability, Teleportation: Allows her to teleport using the bodies of the lifeforms she controls. No range or dimensional limitation.

- Domination Subset Ability, Power Manipulation: Makima can use the abilities and powers of those she controls

Standard Devil Abilities:

- Contract Creation: Allows Makima and another party to trade, take, and give anything that belongs to them with the other as long as the exchange is consensual. Examples are lifespans, body parts, esoteric abilities (Parahuman and Devil), lives, and etc.

- Blood Based Regeneration: The consumption of blood can heal any wound regardless of severity.

-Immortality: Devils do not age and can live forever

-Immense Strength: As a powerful Devil, she is superhumanly strong.

- Enhanced Senses: Makima's sight, hearing, and etc is far greater than a normal human. She differentiates humans by their scent because she is incapable of doing so by sight, the same way humans cannot differentiate dogs of the same species by their appearance

- Reincarnation: Upon permanent death, Makima will be reincarnated without any previous memories in Hell. If she dies in Hell, she will be reincarnated back in Earth

Personal Skills (Non-supernatural skills)

-Hand to Hand Combat: Expert combatant, capable of fighting opponents that outscale her in physicality.

-High Intelligence: Even without her control abilities, Makima knows what to say, move, and react to manipulate a person according to her will by understanding their motives and desires.


Conclusion: She is stacked as hell, wtf and this is only chapter 6. Needs nerfs omfg.
 
just say thinkers saw the fight, I'd believe that a little more than tinkertech recording a fight in super high definition slow motion...so, tinkertech is bullshit and could do all that. How about both?
 
Chapter 7 (Interlude-Piggot)
Reviewed by: GMX, 2Scoopspleas, colorfull wanderer

Interlude - Piggot




The echoing silence was thunderous. Like a ripple in a pond, it echoed across the room with a gravitas that tied tongues and swallowed words.

"Dragon… Can you repeat? Leviathan is… where?" Director Armstrong asked, hesitance and disbelief cloying his voice.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Director Tagg followed, glaring at Dragon's monitor.

Emily Piggot doubted the greatest Tinker would commit to tomfoolery in a meeting such as this. Parahumans were hormonal manchildren prone to violence, but Dragon was dedicated to her job with a professionalism that made her more tolerable than the rest.

Nevertheless, Piggot could not blame her fellow directors for their skepticism. Even she was wondering if she was in a dream.

"I can assure you, Director Tagg that I am making no attempt at humor. As of yesterday afternoon, at the time 16:34, Leviathan was and is stranded in the remains of Mercury," Dragon reconfirmed serenely, as if she was repeating a recipe from a cookbook rather than transmitting information that would change the course of the world.

"Unbelievable…" Whispered one of her colleagues. Who it was, Piggot could not determine. But it did not matter. It was a sentiment they all shared.

They all had seen the footage of the battle between Leviathan and that red-haired parahuman. Uber and Leet had recorded the entire battle from start to end and had published it on their channel. That video was then spread to the rest of the internet, taking it by storm. Even now, every news channel, social media, and radio broadcast dedicated itself to covering and analyzing every inch of that fight. By the end of the day, she doubted there would be a single soul in the civilized world who had not, at the very least, heard of what had happened in Brockton Bay.

When all seemed lost, a hero had appeared and turned the tide, singlehandedly saving the day. It was a tale straight out of a movie. Like any good story, the public drank it in like ambrosia, transcending Makima from obscurity to that of a global superstar.

When Piggot first viewed the video, she had passed it off as a tasteless joke by villains who had never mentally matured past their pre-pubescent years. But when Dragon confirmed it to be genuine, she could not help but be impressed. Facing an Endbringer required admirable courage, and to have faced one singlehandedly was a feat to be applauded.

But even then, that was all there was to it. It was not the first time that an Endbringer had been driven off. The battle of Brockton Bay would be a sensation for the months to come, but it would remain only that and nothing more than a fleeting event.

That was what Emily Piggot had believed.

Until now.

Like herself just a few minutes ago, the public assumed this was the usual 'victory' where an Endbringer was driven off with most of the city standing and most of the population surviving. Since the emergence of Behemoth, Endbringer battles ended in only two ways. Total annihilation or partial destruction. There was never a reason to think of a third.

But this victory was just that—a total one.

Once the world learned of what truly happened to Leviathan… Once the people learned that the Sinker of Cities himself was stranded 48 million miles from Earth…

Dear god…

What was happening now would be a flickering ember compared to the conflagration that would erupt once the news is released.

Just the thought of the incoming chaos churned her stomach. While Armstrong looked like he was a song away from dancing and laughing, she could not say the same. An Endbringer being permanently eliminated was joyful news, but all Piggot could feel was trepidation.

From her experiences, she learned that life was an equilibrium. Where there was an up, there would be an inevitable down. The ups and downs may come and go in small ripples or colossal waves, but once everything was summed, the line would remain in the middle.

It was why she had never fully committed to destroying the gangs. It was inevitable that a critical victory would be followed by a disastrous defeat, undoing any progress previously made. Even if she had succeeded in culling the current infections, new diseases would move in, filling the open gaps and resetting the city back to the shitshow it was.

Balance was the natural order of the world. So what would happen if an event disrupted that balance on a global scale? An event such as the removal of an Endbringer?

"If Leviathan was launched from here to Mercury… Jesus… Dragon, what is the state of the planet? Do we need to worry about any apocalyptic-level asteroids in the future?" Director Hearthrow worriedly asked.

"A large portion of Mercury's mass has reached escape velocity following the impact, but it is unlikely that anything will reach us. Even if there are millions of pieces flying in space, it is statistically unlikely that anything will travel in Earth's direction due to the distance. Furthermore, any debris must escape the Sun's gravitational pull which is improbable. In the unlikely event that something does come our way, we will have seen it coming from a million miles away."

"What of the global ramifications? Would the… God, I can't believe I'm saying this… Crippling of a planet have any environmental consequences for us?"

"No, Director Hearthrow," Dragon responded. "Mercury is too far and too small. Unlike the moon, its gravity has a near-negligible impact on Earth."

The man sighed in relief before allowing a small smile to take hold.

"Damn… Never thought I would see the day…." He said with a chuckle.

"Are we done? Hmm? If we're finished celebrating, let's address the elephant in the room," Director Tagg surlily said in a tone devoid of joy, earning scowls in every direction. But he ignored his peers and continued. "What do we know about this… Makima? Who is she? Where is she from? Is there even anything we know for certain?"

"Any and all information we possess pertaining to her background comes from the person in question," Piggot replied with a calmness that she did not feel. "Whether she is telling the truth however, is unknown. We have no way of confirming the verity of her words."

"I believe she was honest about her origins from a parallel Earth. Her behavior during the Endbringer battle suggested she was unfamiliar with the Triumvirate and Leviathan, which is nigh-impossible for a resident of our Earth. The current theory is that the seven-fingered hand was a trans-dimensional mover ability," Dragon remarked.

"Should we be expecting more visitors? What else does our illegal alien… claim?" Tagg questioned, not bothering to hide his skepticism.

"If you are asking if Makima is a prelude to an invasion, it is unlikely. She would not have fought so hard if she was. There are far better ways of earning our trust while weakening our forces than eliminating one of the greatest threats to our world. Unfortunately, Makima herself is uncertain of what brought her here, but I hypothesize that it was a ploy to remove her from the board."

"With power like that, small wonder," Hearthrow snorted. "Parahumans of her world seem to have a habit of throwing troublesome things out of their world. Speaking of which, why the hell didn't we do the same to Endbringers?"

"Production and research into trans-dimensional tinker tech are illegal, and we have no recorded case of a parahuman with a similar ability. Furthermore, the Behemoth is diakinetic, and the Simurgh is a precog. No amount of force or strategy will be enough to trap them in space. Leviathan was by far the easiest of the three to eliminate in that manner," Dragon explained.

"While I am grateful, I find the woman rather… disturbing," Piggot said, frowning. "Even when she was torn and crushed, her expression never changed from a smile. Even if she has a power that mutes pain, I can't imagine being disemboweled and beheaded being pleasant."

"Makima claimed to have been a division head of the Bureau of Public Safety, an organization similar in function to the PRT and Protectorate but without the separation between parahumans and the rest. Her calm may come from experience."

"That's a recipe for disaster," Piggot scoffed. "Parahumans can't stay in the same room without starting a fight, much less lead an organization without a stable hand to guide them."

"If that's the case, do you think she will be amenable to joining the Protectorate?" Armstrong asked. "Her addition would be a massive PR boost and would resolve the… problems to our reputation."

"My heroes have already offered. She refused, saying that while she enjoys superhero movies, she has no desire to dress like one. She also mentioned that our heroes look ridiculous," Piggot parroted derisively.

"Her world's heroes don't wear costumes?"

"According to her, every member of the Bureau was required to wear a specially woven suit and tie regardless of gender, similar to what she had worn when arriving at Brockton Bay. The terms hero and villain were not used to differentiate the moral alignment of parahumans."

"Well… Then I guess our world would be a bit of a culture shock," Rennick chuckled.

"This is unacceptable!" Tagg roared, slamming down his fist on the table. "We can't allow such a dangerous parahuman to roam free without supervision. There needs to be a way to collar her!"

"Watch your mouth, Director Tagg!" Armstrong rebuked. "Makima is a hero, not a dog to be put on a leash!"

"While Director Tagg could have phrased himself better, he has a point. Villains have consistently fought against the Endbringers. Just because she participated in one battle doesn't make her a hero," Piggot countered.

"How many villains would stay behind to save a city they had no connection with even after the battle was lost? If that is not the definition of heroism, then what is? Makima broke no laws and committed no crimes! She does not deserve to be treated like a dangerous criminal," Armstrong rebuffed angrily.

"Director Armstrong, we know nothing about this woman or her motives. It hasn't even been a full day since she arrived in the Bay. Which side of the law she chooses to stand with remains to be seen. If we act too hastily, we might end up giving good press to a villain," Rennick countered.

"People are helpful to those who support and like them," Armstrong said, shaking his head. "If we treat her like a hero, there is a good chance she will become a hero regardless of her past. Makima has done more than enough to earn that treatment. Even if she never joins another Endbringer battle, participation will skyrocket now that the whole world has hope!"

"Hope…" Chief Director Costa Brown muttered, speaking for the first time as her eyes gazed at something distant.

"Chief Director?"

"It's nothing, Director Armstrong," she said. "Director Rennick, any news from Watchdog? What do they have to say about her?"

Rennick grimaced. "The results are less than subpar. The best they could do was check the veracity of her statements. Attempts to gather information into her past and future ended in disaster with multiple thinkers suffering from aneurysms and bouts of insanity."

"That is… troubling news," Piggot worriedly said. "Is she a blind spot like the Eidolon and Scion?"

"No, if she were a blind spot, they wouldn't see her at all. Watchdog collectively reported that analyzing Makima was like running in water with half your weight's worth of sandbags attached. Some of the thinkers swore they learned something but were unable to remember what they learned after suffering from a backlash. The current theory is that she has an anti-thinker field."

"Are you telling me that we can neither control nor track her? She's a fucking Endbringer!" Tagg growled.

"That is completely uncalled for Director Tagg," Hearthrow rebuked with a frown.

"She cut a biblical wave in half. What the hell do you think will happen if she uses that kind of power in a city? Endbringers, at the very least, fight with limitations and in predictable patterns. But that woman? She doesn't need to play fair. Her blaster power has a fucking range of a million miles. She can flatten the entire United States if she ever reaches a high enough altitude! What do you think will happen if she gets mastered? What if the Simurgh gets to her? Hero or not, we need to have a counter for her!"

"While I disagree with Tagg's tone, I concur that we require a plan of action if Makima ever turns hostile," Rennick mediated, tapping his finger over the desk. "Dragon, what are her current threat ratings?"

"Upon preliminary investigation, the parahuman Makima's ratings are as follows: Brute 7, Mover 6, Blaster 10, Master 5, and Trump 12. But due to her Trump abilities, all current and future threat ratings may be inaccurate."

Every decibel of sound was drowned in a tidal wave of silence.

"What?!" Tagg hissed, interrupting the quiet. "Trump 12? Where the hell did that come from?"

"Even putting aside that ridiculous Trump rating, her mover and brute ratings should be higher. Leviathan was a brute 9, and she was manhandling him towards the end." Hearthrow commented.

"During the battle, she told my wards that she had a power that allowed the sharing of abilities between herself and another," Piggot explained.

"Then her threat scaling is meaningless. She could have any number of abilities she never displayed. Did your wards…?" Renick asked hestiantly.

"No, Miss Militia stopped them before they could."

"Good. Power granters come with too many strings attached. The last thing we need is for our wards to be mastered," Tagg muttered.

"I'm assuming you're referring to Teacher. But he is just one parahuman, and there are not enough power granters to establish a pattern. Just because Makima is a power granter does not mean she will face the same drawbacks as Teacher," Armstrong argued.

"Similar powers have similar drawbacks. Eidolon and Glasting Uaine are limited to the three abilities, and I'm betting Makima has a comparable restriction. I see… I'm getting the full picture now… She must have mastered Lung," Tagg theorized, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Based on what evidence?!" Armstrong exclaimed, scandalized.

"Makima was easily defeated during her first fight, and the second went similarly to the first. But all of a sudden, she overwhelmed Leviathan twenty minutes in. If she was always that strong, why hold back?" Tagg said as he thought. "Also, it's odd that Lung joined the fight when he refused to do so, even when offered a pardon. It doesn't make sense that he would break out and kill the guards just to fight Leviathan… unless she mastered him and gained his power… That's why she was so much stronger at the end."

"That's circumstantial evidence at best," Armstong challenged. "You forget she's from another world and could have gotten a similar ability to Lungs during her career. You're also leaving out that she never displayed pyrokinesis or turned into a dragon."

"Then how do you explain that Master rating?! Lung is human garbage," Tagg sneered. "There is no way he would have fought unless he was forced to! I bet Makima was the one who broke him out in the first place; there's no way those two could have met in a city as large as Brockton Bay otherwise."

"Director Tagg," Dragon interrupted. "I'm afraid I will have to agree with Director Armstrong. The possibility that Lung was mastered was something I considered and investigated. Due to my resistance against mind-altering powers, I questioned Makima about the matter. She admitted that she possessed a Master power but was limited to controlling 'lower lifeforms,' meaning that she could not have Mastered anything beyond animals."

"And you took her at her word? She could have lied!"

"I ran her statement through Armsmaster's lie detector and Watchdog. No falsehood was detected."

"Then how do you explain Lung's behavior?" Tagg insisted.

"Makima claimed that she found Lung through one of her abilities and convinced him," Dragon explained.

Tagg scoffed. "As if pretty words would convince a thug like Lung."

"The wards mentioned that she was charismatic. We do not know if her charism is power induced, but if she really is as convincing as they claim, it is not outside the realm of possibility that she persuaded Lung to fight. Furthermore, I had every one of her statements analyzed, but I couldn't find a single lie. There were omissions and partial truths but based on the results, I believe she is being honest."

"One parahuman couldn't have fooled all of Watchdog and our best tinker," Armstrong added. "Lung fought for his home in Kyushu. While he never joined another battle, is it so strange that he was willing to fight for his home once more? Men like Lung refuse to bow before authority out of spite, but he may have been willing to fight Leviathan if it was on his terms."

"This optimism is going to ruin us," Tagg sneered. "Fine… Have it your way. But what happened to him after the battle? That bastard will probably get a pardon, but we still need to recapture Bakuda and Canary. Have we found them yet?"

"Unfortunately, they all disappeared in the chaos. It seems they went into hiding," Dragon replied.

"This just keeps getting better and better… Even if we lose Canary, Bakuda must-."

"We should release her threat ratings," Piggot interrupted.

Renick frowned. "Are you talking about Makima's? PRT threat ratings are classified and only publicized for villains."

"Then make her the exception that she is. I'm sure the public will want to know as well."

"But… Why?"

"We are not the only ones wondering about Lung's strange behavior. He acted oddly during the fight as well. If we publish that she has a Master rating, what do you think some would assume?"

"What?!" Armstrong exclaimed in disgust. "Dragon and Watchdog already confirmed that Lung wasn't mastered. What the hell would that accomplish?"

"The truth doesn't matter, only what the public believes. Let's face it, the PRT and Protectorate's reputation is in ruins for fleeing the battle of Brockton Bay while an unknown and a slaver are being hailed as heroes. Once the world learns that Leviathan has been eliminated permanently, our reputation will crash even further while theirs's skyrockets. If we press the Master story, we can whittle down Makima's reputation."

"Director Piggot, are you even listening to yourself?" Armstrong decried, aghast. "This kind of duplicity will only hurt us in the long run! We need Makima on our side, lying will only alienate her!"

"What lie?" Piggot scoffed. "All we are doing is releasing her threat ratings. If the public sees the Master rating and comes to the wrong conclusion, that is their fault. Not ours."

"She's right," Tagg agreed. "Makima's greatest weapon right now isn't her parahuman abilities but her fame and prestige. If we can't control her, we need to crush her influence before it grows further."

"A lie by omission is still a lie! Makima put down a monster that slaughtered millions, and you want to stain her image? Just so that we could recoup some of our lost pride? This plan isn't just stupid. It's cowardly," Armstrong disparaged in anger.

"You don't live in Brockton Bay, Director Armstrong!" Piggot snarled, nearly shouting. "You have no idea what it is like in that city. The Protectorate and PRT lost all credibility when they fled and the gangs are using that rhetoric to strengthen their own positions! Even as we speak, Coil, Merchants, Empire, Undersiders, and even the Travelers are carving out more and more of my city every minute!"

"You're aiming your gun at the wrong target Director Piggot! Going after Makima won't restore our reputation nor weaken the gangs. You should be working with her to subdue the villains, not alienating allies!"

"Makima will rule Brockton Bay in everything but name if we don't stop her! Nobody can match her in power or prestige and the lives of 300,000 people will be under the whim of a single parahuman! Who do you think the public will support if she becomes a villain and clashes with the PRT? We won't be able to act against her in public without consequences! She will literally have free reign to do whatever she pleases without restraint!" Piggot insisted.

"Agreed," Tagg nodded approvingly. "Makima is too much of an unknown and has far too much power, both hard and soft. She could easily build a superhuman army if she can also give power to non-parahumans."

"This… I can't believe this… Whether we succeed with this plan or not, our reputation will only sink further. Not everyone is stupid enough to fall for this ruse, and those who don't will despise us even more!" Armstrong argued."

"Our water is already pitch black. No amount of ink will make it blacker. If we can weaken Makima's support, it will be worth it," Piggot said.

"That doesn't justify-."

"Enough!" Costa-Brown interrupted.

"Chief Director, this is-."

"I. Said. Enough," she interrupted once again, slowly articulating every word. "Director Armstrong, if you cannot listen… Leave."

"… Very well," Armstrong spat, reluctantly agreeing before sinking back into his seat.

"How should we deal with Makima, Chief Director?" Rennick questioned. "If we attack her reputation, it may put sufficient pressure on her to join the Protectorate."

"We will do nothing."

"WHAT?!" Piggot cried out in outrage.

"Leave Makima be. Do not support her. Do not undermine her," Costa-Brown ordered

"But Chief Director, if we leave her be, she may take control of Brockton Bay!" Piggot argued.

"Perhaps that will be for the best, Director Piggot. Considering your record of failures to curb the gangs, perhaps Brockton Bay is due for a change in leadership.

Piggot flushed in anger, her complexion morphing into an unhealthy scarlet as her nails dug into the table. "I've kept this fucking powder keg from exploding! I maintained peace and stability in this fucking city for a decade!"

"Peace and stability? Hmm…" Costa-Brown intoned. "I wonder if the victims of the gangs will agree with your definition of… peace."

"Better that than engulfing the city in an all-out gang war! If I try anything, the casualty count will skyrocket!"

"Then you will do well with your next assignment. Do not attack the gangs. Do not attack Makima. Do what you have always done. Nothing."





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Next Chapter is the PHO interlude. The chapter was shorter than usual but please review/comment as usual and follow/favorite my fic on FFN if you can, thanks! This might be heresy but consider reading my fic on spacebattles , that's where the discussion and activity takes place.
 
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