A Shadow's Requiem (OC/SI Villain Protagonist)

A Shadow's Requiem (OC/SI Villain Protagonist)
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What's a guy to do? Stuck in Brockton Bay, literal hell on earth with planetary annihilation coming - with someone to protect, someone to save...

The heroes wouldn't take him, the villains would murder him without compunction. So fuck them all, the world can burn as long as his sister comes out of it okay.

(OC/SI Villain Protagonist)
Chapter 1: Into The Shadows.
Here's chapter 1: Into the Shadows.

So seventh story, my pen name is JollyHippopotamus on A03, SB and FF - which unfortunately is too long of a name for here it seems.

Slowly crossposting things here as well.

Unlike my story Panacea's Remedy which is more fast and loose and not taking itself too seriously kind of story - this one is intended to be more serious and dark and somewhat closer to Canon than my other Worm story is.

It is a villain protagonist, for a given value of villain when you've got the likes of the Slaughterhouse 9 and the Butcher running around. The MC is not going to be quite that bad. That said, his power makes him naturally a bad guy within the framework of how the cops and robbers games work in Worm.

This is Worm, so warnings for death, destruction, depressing and disgusting shit and Nazi language.

Standard disclaimer - Worm belongs to Wildbow, it is not mine, I am simply playing in the kiddie pool.




"Don't even fucking try to be a hero, just give me the money!" He growled out, flashing a knife at the terrified gas station attendant.

He didn't feel great about it, but in the kind of situation he was in, what else was he to do? He'd scavenged up a ski mask that didn't stink too badly from a dumpster near his run down apartment, and grabbed a kitchen knife to use as a weapon - the basic starter kit for mugging someone or committing a robbery.

He always grabbed something new every time, keeping the same gear or outfit was just a good way to get caught or reported as someone specific. Random low level crime didn't even get investigated half the time, as long as you didn't make yourself stand out above the norm.

It was not the most intimidating get up, but it hid his face, and the weapon was less likely to get him killed, like he was more likely to face if he waved around a gun. Being a six foot five black guy was enough of an intimidation factor on its own usually, that the knife probably wasn't even needed.

The pimple-covered young attendant was shaking in fear, cowering away from him even as she scrambled to do as she'd been asked, her fingers failing thrice to open up the cash register before she finally managed she was shaking that badly.

Really picked the wrong career in Brockton Bay if she was this terrified of a simple robbery, he thought, slightly disgusted at himself for even thinking it, but thats how much Brockton Bay changes you…

He immediately pushed her out of the way, ignoring her whimpering, waving at her to get out, barely paying attention to her running away as he grabbed the money and shoved it into his backpack. He didn't linger long, moving through the back of the gas station, kicking down the door to the back area, finding the small manager's office and taking the few seconds to absolutely ruin the CCTV set up. Never knew what someone could pull off that shit, even though it was unlikely some thinker would be given footage of a small-time robbery.

With the likes of Coil and Tattletale in the bay though, he wasn't taking any chances.

Within three minutes of grabbing the cash, he was out the backdoor and walking down the street, ski mask and knife hidden away inside his backpack to be disposed of in a dumpster far enough away it wouldn't be connected. Over his t-shirt he was now wearing a shabby gray hoodie he hadn't worn for the robbery - having been kept in his backpack - covering him now and making him look different enough to any casual observer. He'd ensured to stay out of Empire territory, hitting a station near the docks, because the odds of a member of Brockton Bay's finest stopping him in the docks was almost nonexistent.

Whereas if he'd pulled this shit near Empire territory, he'd face being stopped even if he was helping elderly women cross the street. In his experience, half the BBPD force in that area was either Nazi sympathizers or outright racists and not afraid to show it to any minority walking around.

He couldn't even blame most of the people that lived under their yoke. Arguably, they were safer and more well taken care off then almost any civilian in the Bay, so it was easy to fall into the propaganda.

He sighed quietly, peering out from under his hoodie, always paying attention to his surroundings with a wary eye. The ABB weren't much better about things then the Empire. Just slightly less likely to want to fuck you up. His size helped there on occasion, but the ABB usually moved in packs, making him wary to be out this late either way.

All it would take was the guys being bored to start an altercation.

The take he took home with his activities were worse in this area, even the small businesses were shabby and half-derelict - and lacking in cash. Not surprisingly being low on cash for exactly the reason he'd just proven - desperate people habitually knocked them over. Yet if he'd move to more affluent areas for his needs, he'd face the risk of Empire retaliation, or actual Protectorate or New Wave heroes jumping him.

He'd prefer the Empire. At least they were honest in how terrible they were. You could say a lot about the bunch of horrible racists, but at least they admitted what they were.

The heroes talked a good talk, but weren't different from most criminals… Only difference was in how they let crime go instead of propagating it, hypocrites the whole bunch, willing to let anything go as long as they looked good in the news.

His fists clenched harshly as he lowered his head, looking away, walking by several ABB goons cornering a young girl near an alley. He hoped for her sanity that they were only out for a spot of fun - and wouldn't be taking her to a brothel. The ABB's ways of breaking their girls was something out of nightmares. He'd unfortunately gotten the whole story there once.

His blood was still boiling every time he saw the punks. But he couldn't afford to make them pay, he had more to think of then himself. If it was only him, he'd be satisfied to go down in a blaze of glory to save the girl, but he couldn't afford to…

He silently said a small prayer for the young girl, closing his eyes in pain as he heard her cry out. I'm lower than fucking dirt. He thought with disgust as he walked away.

Just a normal day in Brockton Bay. Every time he walked by a situation like this, more of him withered and died inside. Every time he mugged some poor bastard, knocked over a gas station or small local business - he felt himself give up just that tiny bit more.

But what could he do? He had no papers, no existence, the heroes had shown their disregard already, he had no avenue forward that would help.

His name was Jordan Michaels, he had no papers for it, but his name was what he'd kept, even through everything. Yeah, three guesses who his father had chosen to name him after… Guess he wasn't going to play for the Bulls anytime soon with professional sports practically eradicated.

He wasn't from around here, and he didn't mean just Brockton Bay… This all had been nothing but a story, fiction, just… Not real. Until Jordan had found himself here, his old world was left behind somehow. He half suspected a Simurgh plot, because why else had this happened? The Travelers had been brought over too right?

Except Jordan wasn't from Aleph like they had been, and he was fairly certain none of the alternate earths had made up stories about Endbringers and Scion and a bug controlling fucked up girl fighting it all.

He walked up to the tenement building where he'd gotten himself an apartment through part time work as muscle for the landlord whenever someone hadn't paid up their rent. In this area papers weren't really something too difficult to get around when it came to living. Most of the shit around here was paid in cash, and Jordan doubted the tax man, let alone any other government official, even dared to show up to the docks - unless they were speaking of the ABB taxman of course.

The problem with papers materialized when it came to getting honest work. When it came to getting medical help, insurance, all the legal shit Jordan just couldn't get.

Hence Jordan ending up being either muscle, or a common robber. He sighed as he noticed the light wasn't working again in the stairwell, some tweaker probably shot them out again. He climbed up steadily trying to not think of the past, his anger, desperation and shame threatening to overwhelm him if he did.

Coming up on his floor, he ignored the tarnished piss yellow wallpaper and the paper thin walls that ensured not much was secret between neighbors, he stomped up to his shithole apartment, fishing for his keys, the door opening just as he finally found them.

Mai, (no last name, don't fucking ask), leaned against the door, clad in a loose tank top and dirty jeans shorts, she gave him a quick once over looking for injuries, pursing her lips, "I guess you didn't fuck up today, huh?"

Jordan's shoulders slumped, one time, one time I show up with a knife in my gut, and I never get to hear the end of it… "Thanks as usual, Mai." He rumbled, letting out a deep sigh as he fished a couple bills out of his backpack, paying his neighbor for her help.

It was necessary and he didn't begrudge her the money, because god, did he ever need her help… But with having to pay protection money, the other half of his rent not covered by his muscle work, medicine and food - he'd need to pull more gigs just to keep his head over water with how things were going.

Mai was 15 going on 60, in a situation almost like his, she was only able to afford staying in her apartment through a 'deal' with the landlord. Jordan studiosly did his best not to think about it too much, because he couldn't afford to lose this place. Which he would if he murdered his landlord.

Unfortunately in this world, fifteen year olds selling themselves for rent wasn't even worth a blip on the radar for law enforcement. Not with the parahuman gangs and other bullshitery going on.

A fifteen year old turning into a lizard, mucho important, a hundred kids selling themselves to be able to eat - nothing to worry about. Fuck he hated this world…

Mai always said she was lucky all in all. The young girl had escaped Lung's brothels alive, having been there since a horrific thirteen years of age, literally sold by her parents so they'd be able to afford protection money for years. A client had ended up scarring her face so badly that she'd been let go, partly for her beauty being marred, but mostly to not risk her around the other girls from what she'd been told, risking them fearing clients enough to try and escape, her injury saving her life and sanity.

The client had lost a lot more for harming Lungs 'product'.

That's what people were in most areas of Brockton Bay. Products… Things… None of us were worthy of help from the shiny heroes.

Jordan met Mai's eyes, the jade green cold eyes that looked so out of place on such a young, slim girl. The chill in them turned her features harsher, especially as she usually wore a scowl to add to the harshness. She was exotically beautiful, except for the whole right side of her face being a mess of criss-crossing scars and burns. Sometimes she'd say with dark humor that she'd have an easier life if the client had scarred both sides of her face, detracting fully from her beauty.

Jordan hated that she was actually right in such dark thoughts. Although on the flip side, maybe she would be homeless instead in that case… They had only bad choices to pick from in the end.

"I really mean it Mai, thank you." Jordan said, not letting his gaze slip from her eyes as he handed her a couple 20s. He always imagined he saw some softening in her eyes at times, but it was so brief it could be imagined or wishful thinking.

Mai snorted, taking the money and slipping it into the waistband of her shorts, slipping out of the door, brushing up against him, standing on her tiptoes to kiss the bottom of his jaw. "You're too fucking nice for this place." She said harshly, slipping away down the hallway, that sentiment was also one she oft repeated. Mai following the principle of everyone was a no good bastard. Which begged the question of why she ever bothered helping him out.

He didn't pay nearly enough for what she did. Couldn't afford to.

"You had chicken in your shitty fridge, and I was bored, so I made you some chicken karaage, fucking eat it, you'll help no one starving yourself." She called out, before she disappeared into her own apartment.

Jordan knew it was almost time for her rent payment, the 1st of the month coming up, knew what he'd have to hear through the thin walls.

Jordan breathed in heavily, shaking his head, the lingering touch of the kiss just reminding him of a better world, a soft feeling he couldn't afford, not in this hell. Without further thought on his neighbor - because only rage and death laid that way, he entered his shitty apartment - the smell of the Japanese fried chicken actually beating out the smell of mold and decay, which was a nice change to come home to.

"I'm home." He said softly, even knowing it was basically pointless. He ignored the food Mai had prepared, heading straight for the bedroom.

On the bed, laid his 10 year old sister Jana. They'd recently celebrated their one year anniversary of arriving here… Not that there was anything to celebrate.

He didn't know how they'd arrived in this world, how they were both here, why they were. But he cursed it all the same, like he did everyday, as he sat down heavily next to the bed, his large hand gently grasping her unmoving one.

They'd arrived in the worst kind of circumstance, both of them having been sleeping peacefully at home, on their world - only to wake up to their house, a different house, crushing them, suddenly on Earth Bet - caught in the middle of the Protectorate fighting Lung.

He'd triggered then and there. He snorted to himself, anger flaring briefly, how useless, he thought. As far as he could tell, he'd received no actual power, he hadn't found any no matter what he did since. He even remembered the fucking alien bullshit from his trigger event somehow, that's how he knew it happened, but he had nothing to show for it.

He'd had to dig his sister out of the rubble once his mind recovered from the confusion, the so-called heroes continuing their fight, no one coming to help. Panic, fear, desperation, ruling him as his fingers bled as he dug and tore at the ruins to save Jana.

Hearing her cries the entire time, her desperate pleas for her big brother, failing to reach her on time, hearing her cries go weaker… He shut his eyes firmly, tears are useless, he thought to himself. He'd been too weak, if he had a power it had been useless!

In the end, he hadn't been enough. She'd been paralyzed and suffered brain damage from a lack of oxygen and blood loss. By the time the heroes had arrived to clean up their mess, and had rushed them to the hospital, his sister was too damaged for anything below Panacea.

Jordan had to breathe in and out harshly as he focused on his breathing exercises so he wouldn't hurt Jana's hand by accident in his sudden rage.

Panacea had fixed the physical ailments, but in a dismissive and unfeeling way, declared that there was nothing more she could do, that Jana was for all purposes never going to have the brain function to move again.

And Jordan knew she was lying! Panacea could do brains, she just didn't want to. Not unless it was to rape her own fucking sister. She left his then 9 year old sister as a vegetable, because she was fine with her suffering, as long as she got to keep her own delusions it didn't matter.

Because how she looked like as a hero was more important than helping people!

Jordan had almost done something unwise that day. Only the fact he couldn't abandon Jana on her own had prevented him from attacking the bitch that had bluntly told him to give up on his sister, that there was nothing that could be done.

Considering her sick fascination in her own sister, that had been beyond the pale to voice, and he'd trembled so hard the nurse thought he was having a seizure as he held himself back from strangling the fucking 'hero'.

This fucking useless hellhole of a world, he'd fucking triggered, seeing his sister swept away in rubble before him, forcibly transmigrated to another world… Why the hell hadn't he gotten a healing power? Or any power? What was the point of this hellish world if he couldn't do anything to help Jana?

Having no papers, being underage at 16, faced with his sister needing practically full time care that he couldn't afford, he'd had no choice but to commit crimes to get by. Even then, if not for Mai being willing to look after Jana when he did, he wouldn't even have been able to do that.

Would have had to sit at her bedside and watch her wither, helpless.

The heroes he held nothing but contempt for. They could kill Lung right now, all it would take was Miss Militia and a sniper rifle ventilating his head and his corona from a distance - without him having ramped up at all. Instead they faced him head on and with Jana's life as collateral damage, just so they could play a game of cops and robbers. And Panacea… A hero when it suited her, healing the minimum she could get away with, avoiding the rest unless it benefited herself, only pushing further when she could get what she wanted.

The heroes were indistinguishable from the villains.

The chicken Karaage grew cold in the small dingy dining area, as Jordan softly began rereading Jana's favorite fairy tales out loud, his fingers constantly stroking her hand, reassuring himself that her pulse was strong, that there was body heat, she was still there. There was still a chance that somehow, someday, he could fix this.

No matter what he'd have to do for it. This world was hell anyway, there wasn't any way to get forward by playing nice. And he doubted he'd survive Golden Morning either way. Which is why he needed to find a way back, for both him and Jana, a way to heal her, and then a way back to their old world.

Fuck everyone else.

At least he once again had the money for her medicine this month. Even if it meant he'd have to cut down on the amount he ate again.

Hold on, Jana. Your brother will find a way…





A couple days later,

The harsh pounding on his door woke him up from his nap in the chair next to his sister's bed. He was instantly alert, his eyes first flickering over his sister, ensuring everything was normal there, before he rose gingerly, stretching his muscles, "Don't knock the fucking door down, asshole!" He called out, leaving the bedroom, feeling beyond irritated.

Just in case, he grabbed the baseball bat he kept next to the bedroom door, holding it loosely in one hand as he looked through the peephole. Fuck. He thought, hand clenching around the bat reflexively.

He opened the door halfway, hiding the arm holding the bat behind the door, his expression blank, "What can I do for the ABB today, boys?" He asked, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible, while still ensuring he didn't come off as an easy mark.

The trio of ABB goons standing in front of his door wore the typical red and green, although they weren't visibly armed. He'd seen them around the area, these guys more couriers and lookouts then muscle, which gave him some sense of safety in the situation. They wouldn't send these guys if they were here to do anything violent.

The one in front, his head half shaved, half spiked up and colored red, spoke up, a crooked grin on his young face. "You've been hitting places around here, Michaels…" He hinted, rubbing two fingers together leadingly.

Jordan shifted slightly, ensuring he still had a good grip on the bat, his eyebrows raised in faked confusion, "Here and there, sure, but I made sure they weren't protected first, didn't want to step on the wrong toes..."

It had certainly made his life of crime more complicated, having to research what businesses paid Lung for protection, because hitting one of those would not end well for him. He was sure that the gas station he'd hit wasn't one of Lung's, he'd double and triple checked, and it had been on the very edge of the docks, practically not in the area at all.

"That gas station recently changed owners." The ABB goon said, his two friends both chuckling in dark amusement behind him.

Fuck, fuck fuck fuck! Jordan thought, "How recently?" He asked, thrown off balance, his one hand clenching around the siding of his entranceway, making the weak wood creak.

"About right before you robbed the place, I'd say, right Jin?" One of the chucklefucks in the back asked the leader of this particular trio.

"Heh, that sounds right. Which doesn't make for a good look when you come in, robbing the place right after, you get me?" Jin said menacingly, a mocking smirk on his narrow face.

Jordan sighed, he was in-between a rock and a hard place here, if they were telling the truth he was fucked if he didn't pay reparations, if they were lying just to scam money from him… He was still fucked if he didn't pay reparations. "I obviously would never do anything to hurt the Azn Bad Boys." He grit out, "I will of course give you all the money back…" Please just take it, you fucking shitheads.

Jin laughed, which set off the two guys behind him. Jordan felt his heart sink, so it's like that. He thought glumly. He'd finally become too active to ignore, it seemed. God dammit!

"The money is peanuts to the great Lung, no, we require recompense for your deviant actions against the righteous rulers of the docks." Jin said with a shit eating grin on his face, his thumbs hooked into his belt. "You'll be doing a little job, prove that you respect your betters." He needled.

Jordan wanted to bash his head in with his baseball bat. But the brief pleasure would only lead to trouble. Lung didn't give a shit about him, didn't know he existed, but if he bashed in the heads of his people, and managed to evade his normal goons, Lung would definitely send Oni Lee to make an example - he did not tolerate disrespect. Jordan held no illusions about any ability to survive that kind of retaliation.

"Of course I'll do the job, I have a debt I need to clear up, I am available whenever you need me." He said politely, forcing himself to show no hint of his anger. He had Jana to think of, he couldn't go to war with the ABB.

Jin nodded affably, obviously used to getting exactly this reaction from anyone he threatened within ABB territory. "Tonight, behind the Jade Goose." He poked a finger into Jordans muscled chest, "Ten, don't be late, just do us this little favor, and you'll be in the clear, for now."

Jordan nodded his agreement silently, watching the goons walk off after some more posturing, knowing that something like this never ended in just one favor. And as he wasn't Asian, he was obviously being used as expendable muscle. "Fuck." He muttered indecisively, looking back into the apartment.

Before he could decide on what to do, Mai left her apartment, having obviously been listening in. She marched straight up to him, her brow furrowed, and poked him in the chest harshly, "You have no choice, you must kill them!" She hissed. Her hair, normally up in a bun held together with sewing needles, was a mess, falling down her face like a curtain.

They'd obviously woken her up. Jordan never saw her with her hair down, it softened her features somewhat, not that he'd be stupid enough to tell her anything of the sort..

"If I kill them, they'll come for me, and…" He trailed off with a sigh. On his own, he could at least attempt to just leave, try his luck elsewhere. With Jana, that wasn't an option.

Mai shook her head stubbornly, poking him again, "Those idiots are so below the dragon that he likely has never heard of them, this job, they will not have told anyone you'll be coming with, this is their own private amusement - end them, and it ends there."

Jordan hesitated, making the young woman in front of him stomp her foot in frustration, poking him again, "Ow, woman! Stop that!" He growled, swatting at her hand. "I get what you're saying, but if you're wrong, it's all over."

Mai gave him a melancholy smile, "And if you don't kill them, it's over anyway, is it not?"

Jordan winced, because she wasn't wrong. He was either killed on this 'job' or he would be eventually as they continued to make use of him, holding the threat of him robbing a ABB protected business over his head until he died - or he killed them and he had at least the chance that this was a solo effort by the trio, giving him some hope.

"Can you watch Jana for me, Mai." He asked softly, already fishing in his pockets for money. He'd have to do it, his only chance was to end this thing before more people knew about it.

He was surprised that anyone at all knew about the robbery, but it wasn't entirely impossible that some Asian kid had seen him and told the trio someone his size had hit the place. There weren't many around the area of his size unfortunately, so it made sense.

Mai scoffed, grasping his wrist, stopping him, her gaze undecipherable, "Pay me when you get back." She ordered, smacking his abs until he stepped out of the way, the tiny girl sweeping into his apartment like she owned it, "I'll watch the girl…"

She always made it sound like such a chore, but he knew she spent time singing to his sister, painting her nails, and other similar activities that he hadn't paid her to do - she had a definite soft spot for Jana. His sister had always had that ability to win over anyone she met. He breathed out harshly through his nose, he needed to protect that, until he could give her the chance to meet Mai properly.

His focus shifted, the meeting tonight…

Jordan needed to scout out the area, only tangentially aware of the Jade Goose restaurant and its surroundings, it was deeper into the docks than he usually went. He also needed to find himself a proper weapon, prepare himself for total annihilation tonight, so he allowed Mai to take over his apartment without a word of protest, just thankful for her help. "Mai… If I don't come back…" He was lost for words, not sure if he could ask, not sure if he could actually force himself to say the words.

Mai nodded stiffly, "If you don't come back within two days. I will do what must be done."

Jordan swallowed loudly, but managed a heavy nod, before he walked off to the bedroom to get fully dressed, and to say goodbye to Jana, just in case.

This day he had feared for the entirety of the last year, that the gangs would notice him enough to either push him in, or try and push him out, permanently.

Power… If you exist, now would be a really good time to fucking lend a hand. He thought angrily.

Mai watched him with a dead gaze, already half writing him off, cynical as she was.

He kissed Jana's forehead as he finished dressing. "Love you." He mumbled, steeling himself for a new first.

He'd never killed before. But as he looked down at his helpless sister. Who depended on him for everything.

His eyes hardened,

He didn't expect he'd have much difficulty in doing the deed.





When you spend a year on the lawless side of town, you learn of places where you can get guns, where you can get drugs, exotic shit that is beyond anything you can find legally, you pick up where you can launder money, all of the little tidbits that help criminals along. He'd never used the information, because frankly wasting his money on a weapon that could just be used as evidence against him felt stupid.

His size and a knife - or even a rusty metal pipe - was enough most of the time.

This time however… This time he couldn't take any chances. He was familiar with guns for all that he hadn't shot one in this world yet, and facing three ABB goons who'd probably be packing… He couldn't risk going in with just a knife this time.

Most of the guns in town came through the gangs, they had the safehouse and storage areas to keep large amounts of weapons around, and the capes to defend their stashes as well. Coupled with how rarely the PRT and Protectorate tried to really push hard against them - they practically had a monopoly.

But there were a few places. A few vendors that were more low key, more hidden. People that never got bothered by the heroes because they were small potatoes. And because they hid much more effectively then in some warehouses with a dozen obvious goons patrolling around outside it.

Jordan pushed an empty cart through Shoaling's grocery mart, a decently sized, locally owned grocery store, mostly selling Asian ingredients to the varied immigrants that had settled in Brockton Bay during the years of Endbringer destruction in Asia.

This particular store had a very large back area with industrial sized freezers, nominally because they shipped in so much of their stock from further away then most local grocers did. The shipping industry wasn't dead as he had briefly assumed on reading the story this world was based on, but it was severely diminished as not many companies could afford the insane insurance prices, and they lacked safe ports in many places in the world due to Parahuman warlords.

Jordan however knew that only one of the freezers was actually used for its intended purpose in this grocery store. The second belonged to a South Korean immigrant who used it as a weapon's store for all the Asian immigrants in the area.

Jordan walked by the large employee only swinging doors that led to the back rooms, because right next to those, was a beaten up door with words that were just barely visible, spelling out; electrical room - high voltage - keep out. Glancing around, he saw that the corner he was in was covered from casual sight from within the store by several shelves of products. He knocked on the door in a particular pattern, waiting a moment before knocking again.

The door opened slightly, a short elderly Asian man peering out at him suspiciously, having to crane his neck pretty far to look up at him. "What do you want?" He grumbled pushing the door open just enough to allow Jordan to slip inside.

"I'm here to buy." Jordan said, slightly perturbed at the welcome, eyeing the area he'd entered, shelves lined up against the wall carrying a multitude of weapons, including some not so common, such as shuriken and katanas. "You get many buyers for that stuff?" He said somewhat bemusedly, nodding towards the Katanas.

The old man snorted, slowly moving towards a workbench where a young woman was tinkering with something. Not in the superhero way he assumed, because that wouldn't be shown so clearly to strangers. This place was after all fairly well known in the Asian underworld community, Mai had given him the deets ages ago.

"That for posers. Is good money." The old man said, before poking the young woman in the shoulders with one gnarled finger, "Wake up, have customer, you run store now, no making me do all work."

"Hai, hai, gramps" She sighed, still fiddling with some sort of rotor, her overalls covered in grease, her hair cut short like a boys. She looked back over her shoulder uninterestedly, expressive hazel eyes meeting Jordans. "Look around, pick something, bother me when it's time to pay." She muttered, going back to what she was doing.

"Alright then." Jordan said, slightly thrown at the request, but he knew the place had a good reputation and while they paid their dues to Lung, they weren't actually part of the ABB. Well, all Asians belonged to ABB and all that nonsense - but these people weren't gang members, and that was good enough for Jordan.

"Lazy granddaughter, good for nothing." The old man muttered, the girl just rolling her eyes, obviously used to this song and dance routine.

Jordan walked around, keeping a slight eye on the other two as he looked, not willing to completely trust anyone other than Mai with his back. The place dealt almost exclusively in small arms and the curiosities that 'posers' looked for, as the old man so perfectly put it. Either way it wasn't like he could afford anything more than a small piece anyway, and he'd have to waste his entire take from the last robbery too.

He stiffened as another knock rang out, watching out of the corner of his eyes as the old stooped Korean man shuffled off to greet another customer. He wasn't exactly pleased to be sharing this space with more unknowns, especially as he intended to use his purchase to kill people tonight, the less people that could tie him and a gun together the better.

He almost choked on his tongue as the door opened and Assault walked in. The girl at the workbench visibly perked up, jumping off her seat to run over, "Mad-... Assault! It's been forever since you've been over!" She yelled, practically squealing.

Jordan didn't miss that slip, his eyes narrowing at the hero, he knew he'd been a villain before, but keeping his contacts even as a hero? That didn't seem very legal. Just another sign of hypocrisy, he thought bitterly, turning away from them all, focusing on the weapons.

The Protectorate hero ruffled the girl's hair, chuckling lightly, "Sorry, sorry, I've been busy, Sun Hee. I'm just coming by to check that you guys aren't being hassled."

The old man scoffed, "If we hassled, it's because people like you draw attention, go away." He grumbled grouchily, his granddaughter slapping his shoulder lightly with grease-covered hands, "Gramps!" She complained.

Assault just laughed lightly, raising his hands in mock defense, "I'm not here to cause you trouble old man, just here for old times sake, making sure little Sun here is growing up alright."

"I'm not so little anymore, I'll totally kick your ass any day." Sun Hee said fiercely, preening in front of the villain turned hero. The girl looked no older then Mai, and if she was over five feet, it was by technicality, Jordan would definitely qualify her as little, still.

Then to Jordans visible consternation, the hero turned his way, smiling pleasantly, "Not to worry, I'm not here to bother you, I'm not as black and white as most heroes, I know the little guys need a way to defend themselves in this part of town."

Jordan grunted as an answer, hoping to be able to leave it at that, keeping his eyes turned towards the shelves now, hoping the hero would leave soon. The last thing he needed was to be in any way connected with the Brockton Bay hypocrites.

"Looking for anything in particular?" Assault said pleasantly, stepping up next to him, Sun Hee stepping up next to him as well, both hands firmly holding Assaults left hand.

"Privacy." Jordan grunted out, refusing to meet the man's eyes, staring down at the guns on the shelf in front of him. He was literally planning murder tonight, he did not need this right now, buying a murder weapon with a hero standing by.

"Fair enough, I just thought I recognized you from somewhere, wanted to see if I could jog my memory." Assault said, having an easy going attitude and pleasant manner to deal with things, but it didn't ease Jordan's natural suspicions, if he was here to see these two, why was he bothering Jordan?

Jordan couldn't help the curl of his lips as a sneer came into being, Assault bringing up the memories of being buried in rubble while the heroes had more important things to deal with. "I'm sure you do…" He rumbled dangerously.

Assault hummed thoughtfully, Sun Hee looking around him to glare at Jordan, defending her hero with her expression alone, "Did I arrest you at some point?" The hero said, chuckling slightly.

Jordan growled under his breath, the fuck is your problem, hero? He thought, already stressed out with everything going on, he didn't need this fucker on his ass too. "Leave it alone." He said clippedly.

Sun Hee looked indignant on Assaults behalf, "Hey, this is my shop, you want anything from me you can't talk to Madc- I mean Assault, like that!"

Assault ruffled her hair again, crooning slightly, "So cute, you're still like five." He teased, getting the girl to puff out her cheeks in annoyance, a slight blush on her face. "Look," he said to Jordan, turning slightly serious for the first time since he entered, "If I arrested you or something, don't worry, I'm not here to hassle little Sun's customers."

Jordan clenched his teeth to keep himself from exploding on the other man, "Leave it." He ground out, turning to leave, he could get a gun in some other way, this had been a mistake.

"Hey, take it easy." Assault said, one hand on his shoulder. Sun Hee muttering next to him about asshole Gajins.

Jordan couldn't hold it in any longer, smacking Assaults hand away angrily, "Take it easy? That's what you do, right?" He bit out, his blood hot now, "Just play some games with the villains right? Don't matter what collateral damage happens around you, as long as the game is played right?" He met Assaults frowning visage with his own fired up and disgusted expression, "If you remember me I'm honestly surprised… You must have met a lot of people who's sister you and your friends crushed under a ton of cement and debris as you played cops and robbers with Lung - after all that's how you do it, isn't it?"

"Ah." Assault said, looking apologetic, "My apologies, I shouldn't have pushed." He looked honestly contrite, which just pissed Jordan off more.

"Sorry about pushing me right? But not sorry for what you did to my sister, because that's just business as usual?" He pushed away from Assault, before he did something stupid, he couldn't afford to spend the night in lockup. "You could clean this town up in minutes if you took it seriously, but you're more interested in playing games, don't fucking talk to me, you heroes are worse then Lung. At least he's fucking honest about how much of an asshole he is."

God, his power must be a bad luck generator or something, what are the odds he'd run into Assault visiting some old Madcap contacts on the one day he himself needed a gun. The old man who'd kept quiet through much of the argument, gave him a silent nod as he made to leave, probably experienced enough to see exactly what Jordan was talking about. The enforced game that only played into the villains and the gangs hands.

"You can't talk to him like that!" Sun Hee ran in front of Jordan suddenly, staring up at him, eyes flashing with indignation, her short stature making her look even younger as she blocked his way, cheeks puffed out in anger.

"Sun Hee." Assault sighed, stepping over to pull at her shoulder, "Leave him be, he has a right to feel that way."

"Just wait, girl." Jordan said tiredly, stepping around her, "If you got Assault visiting here, it's only a matter of time before Lung's people come for you or your gramps, and the heroes won't lift a finger, because the game doesn't allow them to punish Lung for what he'd do to you."

"You're lying!" Sun Hee said petulantly, being held back by Assault who did not say a word in his defense.

Jordan opened the door, sighing, suddenly feeling exhausted, "I really wish I was." He muttered, stepping out.

He didn't know what Assault was doing visiting in uniform like that, plain hubris? Too used to his new heroic life to realize what it looked like? To realize the consequences to Sun Hee and her grandfather if anyone reported this to the ABB.

According to Mai this little spot was left alone because they were practically harmless to the ABB and paid a substantial fee to keep operating. They wouldn't be so harmless anymore if they were believed to be connected to a Protectorate hero.

And now he still needed a gun, he couldn't go back there, not while knowing Assault was involved, that the girl would remember him all too clearly, and like a typical teenager, would hold a petty grudge against him for far too long. Not something he could afford if his gun was tied back to this place from the future trio of bodies of ABB goons. That's why he'd wanted a gun from a more unofficial locale, because it made it harder to track. Not so if that locale was tied to a fucking hero of all things.

Especially if he brought the ABBs attention to the place right around the time a trio of goons were shot.

He didn't know any other illegal vendors that he could use, and he certainly didn't want to go to a legal vendor, couldn't either, he didn't have an I.D that would pass muster there. So now he had to either get a gun from the gangs supplies, or straight from a gang member.

He couldn't go after an ABB goon, he couldn't afford to draw anymore attention in the docks, last thing he needed was anyone seeing him take one down to steal his gun - compounding the issue he already had of ABB goons knowing about his activities.

Empire was just… Beyond risky. While he'd gladly take down a racist any time of the day, there were too many people around during the day. A large black man taking down a white man in Empire territory, he'd have to be luckier then lady luck herself to pull that off without half a dozen sympathizers calling the rest of the Empire down on him.

That left one good target. The Merchants. They were hardly even a gang in reality, only the capes existing to beat back the BBPD made them anything other than a bunch of homeless junkies. They were also perfectly acceptable targets, neither the ABB or the Empire gave two shits about some junkies getting beaten up, it was their favorite pastime in fact.

The only issue was finding someone with a working firearm, as most of the Merchants were homeless drug addicts who owned nothing more then the clothes on their bodies.

He'd have to go after a dealer, those would be armed, although it also ran the risk he'd run into more than he could handle if he wasn't careful. He'd have to be careful, find a dealer that didn't have too much backup nearby.

The largest issue would be finding a dealer in the day, when they weren't as prolific. It wasn't as easy as just walking up to a street corner in the homeless section of the industrial park near the edges of the docks.

He sighed as he walked away from the grocery store, at least he'd started early, so he had plenty of time before the meet behind the Jade Goose, and he should easily be able to wrestle with a weak ass junkie.

He'd just have to keep an eye out. Meeting Assault this morning had his hackles raised. He didn't want to somehow find himself running into Skidmark while hunting for some low level dealer. As much as the newly revealed cape and his druggie gang was a joke to most in Brockton Bay, Jordan knew his power wasn't weak. Especially against a normal like himself.

His paranoia level was at an all time high as he walked carefully towards the absolutely broken part of Brockton Bay.

He saw capes in every reflection now, tensed up at the sight of every person he crossed paths with, wondering if they were a cape in civilian clothes.

Fucking Assault, he had him going nuts on the day he needed to keep his cool most of all.

God he hated parahumans.

Director Piggot had it right. They were all a bunch of unreliable weirdos.





Finding a Merchant drug dealer shouldn't be this difficult, Jordan thought with annoyance, moving through the areas around the trainyard.

He ran into plenty of homeless people, but not one dealer, everyone sluggish or sleeping during the day it seemed.

Fucking junkies. He couldn't afford to stop and interrogate every homeless guy around. For one, it would take forever until he got anything worth his time… Secondly, that shit was memorable and he really didn't need the Merchants - as much of a joke as a gang that they were - to come after the guy nosying about.

Weak as they were. They still had capes. Jordan did not need that kind of heat after him. While Skidmark and Squealer were kind of a joke, they still didn't get taken down by the Protectorate whenever they ran into a patrol. Call it a fighting retreat if you will - they still fucking won if they got away.

Now if the Protectorate sent their heavy hitters all together, then yeah, Skidmark was fucked, but the heroes just didn't work that way. And with how jailtime worked for Parahumans, Skidmark would be out in a few weeks at most anyway, he was hardly Birdcage material at this point.

His thoughts were interrupted as a prostitute stepped into the street ahead of him, having come out of one of the many alleys that dotted this area. "Looking for a good time, honey?" She asked flirtatiously.

Jordan grimaced, taking in the obvious needle marks and the emaciated frame of the woman, thankfully she at least was an adult, and not like so many in the sex trade in town - painfully young.

He was about to wave her off, when he had another thought, stopping in front of her, giving a jerky nod, "Sure…" He said feeling stupid and awkward as all hell.

The brunette smiled tiredly, "Big boy like you, I bet we can have all types of fun." She said leadingly as she led him back into the alley she'd come from.

He grimaced at the dirty mattress behind a dumpster, although he wasn't exactly surprised this stuff happened even out in the open. He hadn't been kidding with calling Brockton Bay a hellscape. He raised a hand, palm up, to stop her before she could do something mentally scarring, like remove her few scraps of clothes. "I just need information, I'll pay for it, it's got nothing to do with the gangs, I just need a lead on a piece."

He might have been intending to rob a gun off a drug dealer, but honestly, he wasn't having much luck and he still wanted to spend some time casing out the area around the Jade Goose. If the prostitute could point him to a gun without all the extra complications, he'd take it.

She pursed her lips in thought, eyeing him up, "How much would you pay for a gun?" She asked, a shine in her eyes telling him he'd definitely lucked out.

"I got enough, few hundred definitely." Jordan said, not wanting to give a definitive answer, because he knew people like this, and if he said he had five hundred - she'd say the price was five hundred, even if it was worth half that.

She scratched her hair, hemming and hawing for a few minutes, looking unsure. Jordan standing silently and waiting, not wanting to spook her into refusing to sell him the information.

"I have a gun." She admitted after a few minutes, "For my protection, see…"

"Is it in working order?" Jordan asked, suddenly laser focused on the prostitute.

"Show me the money first!" She demanded, chewing on her lower lip.

Jordan brought out two hundred, not all he had, but enough to show he had cash on him.

"Alright… 300 and it's yours." She said, walking over to the dumpster slowly, before reaching in, being obvious with her motions as she took a gun and a holster out of the dumpster.

Jordan wasn't a gun expert in any way, he'd fired some at a gun range with his dad in his home world, so he was comfortable firing one, but he couldn't tell what brand or anything a gun was.

It was a decent piece, not too small or big, perfectly ordinary looking. And despite being somewhat covered in garbage, it didn't look like it was damaged, just filthy.

"Alright. 300 dollars for the gun and holster." Jordan agreed, pulling some more money out of his pockets, holding one hand out with the money, the other reaching out for the gun. "Same time, alright?"

The woman nodded, eyes greedily locked onto the money, and soon Jordan was holding his new gun, checking it over, finding that it was indeed in good shape.

It was also entirely without ammo. He sighed, looking over at the smug woman who'd already made the money disappear somewhere. "What about ammo?" He asked, chagrined. What was the point of keeping a gun for protection with no ammo inside anyway?

She smiled. "Another 300 for ammo." She said sweetly.

Jordan really wished he was the kind of guy that could beat a hooker up, because now this was just highway robbery right here.

Begrudgingly he paid, and got the hell out before she could find another way to stiff him.





Jordan 'arrived' to the alley behind the Jade Goose just a minute before his supposed meeting time at ten.

In reality, he'd already spent three hours in the area, looking for good hiding places or escape routes, and of course looking out for a potential trap - finding nothing that hinted at Jin and his chucklefucks luring him here just to outright kill him. The job was likely legit then, even if it was likely as expendable muscle.

How expandable would tell him at what point to enact his plan to kill the three. At least the Goose was closed, he'd watched all the staff leave already, so if he needed to kill the trio immediately, there wouldn't be witnesses.

If only he could trust them about this being a one time thing, then he could just do the job and walk away. But he knew the gangs, knew how they worked, and it was never just one thing. They'd demand more and more, using him up until he either died or got caught and jailed.

He didn't bother hiding his gun, letting the holster show, knowing he would be expected to be armed anyway, it would only invite questions if he tried to hide that he was packing. It would make Jin suspicious and that's not something he wanted to deal with - things would be difficult enough with three people arrayed against him without him making it more difficult for himself.

Jin was smoking as Jordan arrived, his two pals sitting on the restaurants backstep, one of them murmuring something to Jin as he saw Jordan approaching. It was the tall gangly one of the trio that had spoken, the one that looked like he wasn't anywhere near 18 yet.

An unfortunate reality around here, not many Asian kids had the luxury to stay out of the ABB.

"Ah, punctual." Jin said with a grin, flicking his cigarette away, the dark alley almost filled to the brim with garbage bags, a small path carved out in-between the garbage to the backdoor of the restaurant. "Eager to get to work, eh?"

Jordan noted immediately that all of them were packing as well, as he'd thought. This was obviously going to be a bit more then just the regular protection rackets, as he'd suspected.

"So what's the biz? This late at night? We shaking someone down? Hitting a Merchant stash house?" Jordan asked impatiently, purposefully showing himself a little ill at ease, like the trio would expect.

Too confident and he'd have the trio second guessing how long to keep him alive, too ill at ease, and they might just kill him rather then risk him fucking up what they're doing or they'd expect him to try to pull a runner.

"Nah, we're doing something special, just for you." Jin said grinning ominously, his bleached teeth blinding in the almost pitch black filthy alley.

"Do I get to know what it is?" Jordan asked, not liking the matching grins on the trio of ABB goons. He'd known this entire job was out to get him in a way, but he'd hoped it wouldn't be a blatant thing. They'd be more on their guard with something more difficult, like whatever this is. Either way it's probably not good for him.

"My good friend here," Jin punctuated the statement by punching the shoulder of the shorter one of his friends, "Heard some juicy intel on an Empire affiliated punk selling his shit right near our territory, you're going to take care of it for us."

Jordan grimaced, Empire, fucking of course… Sending a black man against Empire goons was literally asking him to commit suicide if even a whisper of the act got out afterwards. "This guy alone?" He asked gruffly, I'll have to take these jokers out before the job then, too risky to go up against the Empire with these goons at my back…

Jin smirked, swaggering up to Jordan following the small path through the garbage, "Only two more guys guarding him, so three in total, not a hard job for a guy your size, eh?" He joked, playfully using his knuckles to tap his chest a couple of times, "We'll hang back and eh… Supervise, heh."

So you can shoot me in the back, more likely… Jordan thought disparagingly.

Jordan saw his opportunity however in how close Jin had gotten to him, grabbing Jin with one arm around his thin torso, while reaching for his gun with the other hand, pulling Jin taut to his body to use him as a human shield.

He ignored Jin's sudden cursing, his thick arm easily able to hold the small man and not allowing him the leverage to get to his gun, his own gun was out of his holster and aimed at the first of the goons, the shorter one, even as they were starting to jump into action. His heart was beating wildly as he thought, I can do this, I got this!

Of course, that's when his human shield slipped down and out of his arm like so much dead weight, a crossbow bolt in his chest, Jordan's heart had been pounding so loudly throughout his veins that he hadn't even heard the bolt being fired.

He definitely noticed however as fucking Shadow Stalker materialized out of shadow behind one of the goons, having come down from the rooftop, even as he pulled the trigger, his sight still aimed at the shorter ABB man.

The guy had his gun half raised in his direction when Jordan's shot hit him dead centre, followed by a crossbow bolt hitting his neck just a millisecond later.

Shit, shit, shit! What the fuck is my luck today?? Jordan thought frantically, aiming his gun towards the other goon, but holding his fire, unsure of his next action, with Shadow Stalker playfully swirling around the goon anytime he tried to hit her, playing with her food like some sort of sadistic cat - he wasn't sure what to do.

She kept going into her breaker state as soon as the goon turned to shoot, appearing behind him, purposefully making noise to make him swirl around panicked, before she did it again as his sight aimed her way.

The shadow state in this dimly lit alley only looking that more intimidating as she blended in with the darkness.

Jordan was in deep shit here. Shadow Stalker might be in her Wards uniform instead of the vigilante gear, but he knew she was carrying lethal bolts. Jin could attest to that, dead at his feet as he was. He wasn't even aware that she was a Ward yet, last he had heard she was a vigilante in a hockey mask, and they were still months away from Canon.

She must be newly inducted to the Wards, going out for a fun spin in her new threads. And it just so happened to be when Jordan was around, and she was just the right kind of hero to not let him go using the excuse that these guys were threatening him.

Considering she shot the hostage, he didn't hold much hope for this situation. I can't go down like this! He thought wildly, gun hesitating on which target to pick, Shadow Stalker giving him a brief glance before discarding him upon seeing his hesitation.

She'd immediately disregarded him despite his size and the weapon in his hand, not something Jordan was used to, but she was a parahuman, they played by different rules. Maybe she saw his hesitation and assumed he wouldn't be able to fire again?

Was that why she was leaving him alone? Or was she just saving him for last to terrorize?

With the way she was sadistically playing with the ABB guy… He didn't hold out much hope she'd just let him run away.

Maybe… Maybe if he took him down, she'd thank him for the assist? Maybe she'd let him go? She wasn't really a hero, she might be good with the whole strongest win type of mentality. It fit her whole predator style, right?

Mind made up, he waited for Shadow Stalker to go into her breaker state, before he aimed and pulled the trigger several times, aiming for center mass on the taller goon.

Suddenly his head split with immense pain, worse then anything he's had before, enough that he almost thought Stalker had shot him in the head with a crossbow bolt. But even as the pain hit, he could see what was happening, almost like it was in slow motion. A horrific sight of unintended consequences.

The back of Shadow Stalkers head exploded in gore, her limp body slumping to the ground as if a puppet who's strings just got cut, the other three shots he'd fired hitting the ABB goon, killing him as well.

Shadow Stalker had gone into her breaker state again, the goon had turned already anticipating her jump scare, Jordan had fired, anticipating her jump scare on the other side of the goon, and Stalker had returned to corporeal form, right where she'd already been standing, obviously to fuck with the goons mind even more. Which had her right in the way of Jordans shots, not able to react quickly enough to go back into her breaker state before the first bullet hit.

Fuck. He'd just killed a Ward. Sure, she might have done the same to him, but also… She might not have. And he just killed a kid. She's what? 14? 15? Fuck!

Hesitating only for a moment, he went into action, cleaning off his gun, before placing it in Jin's hand, firing off another shot with it to ensure there was gun residue on his hand.

Now it looked like Shadow Stalker had come upon a trio of criminals, swooping in, taking one out with a crossbow bolt, Jin firing all panicked and also hitting that goon, Shadow Stalker then firing against Jin, hitting him in the chest with a crossbow bolt before turning to deal with the last goon - but Jin managed to fire off several shots before dying, taking out Shadow Stalker and accidentally his last friend too.

Yes… Yes this could work. They'd find Shadow Stalker having used lethal ammunition and the PRT would bury all this anyway, not wanting it out, especially if she was just made a Ward.

He was alone now in an alley with four dead bodies…

He needed to get out of here right now! As he thought that he suddenly had a funny feeling, and he shot back ten feet, without touching the ground. He stared down at himself. His shadowy incorporeal state.

Shadow Stalker's power.

He gulped in dread…

I think I know what my power is now…





Author's note:

RIP Shadow Stalker, absolutely no one will miss you!

So yes, not exactly a heroic power set Jordan's been gifted with. The power to 'win' the same powers from other shards when you kill their hosts. Or steal if you want to call it for what it is.

With how the rules on killing are in Worm, it's not really a power that's going to make him many friends in the parahuman community once it's out there.

It's also going to play some real havoc on Brockton Bay's cape scene. Especially with so many useful powers around.

Although one in particular would really help Jordan's goals going forward.

Cheers

patreon.com/JollyHippopotamus
 
Chapter 2: Shadow Games
Here's chapter 2: Shadow Games.

This story won't have Skitter, the locker isn't happening, but being Taylor is suffering, and that won't change just because of an OC that isn't even paying attention to her. She won't be a main character but who can completely ignore Taylor in a Worm story?

This is Worm, so warnings for death, destruction, depressing and disgusting shit and Nazi language.

Standard disclaimer - Worm belongs to Wildbow, it is not mine, I am simply playing in the kiddie pool.




Winslow High school,

Taylor Hebert was waiting for the other shoe to drop. For a week now, Sophia and Emma had both been gone, Emma disappearing a day after Sophia suddenly stopped showing up, leaving only Madison to torment her - and she was barely phoning it in, seemingly not that into it without the other two around to push her.

It was admittedly freaking Taylor out.

Although she'd still get snide comments in the hallways from the pretty girls that flocked around Emma, there were no attacks, no petty destruction of her homework, no shoves, or trips or elbows into her ribs 'accidentally'.

There were no precisely formed insults from a former sister/best friend that ripped her heart out with inside knowledge and then spilled it out on the dirty floor of Winslow for all to see and laugh at.

Nothing.

It was almost… Normal. She couldn't trust it, it was too suspicious. It must be a trap of some kind! This was a new trick, to make her drop her guard! That's the only thing that made any sense.

Taylor scurried from one class to another, shoulders hunched low, eyes madly flickering around, searching for the threats. Any day now… Any day.

Because things never went this well. Whatever was going on with Sophia and Emma… Would be ten times as bad if she was caught unawares when they returned.

For God's sake, even the teachers were suddenly paying attention, yesterday one of the girls got called out for calling Taylor a name. A name! That small almost nonexistent slight was called out by a teacher!? Granted Gladly was still exactly the same, but still, a girl had been called out for insulting her.

For Taylor!?

It was getting harder and harder to go to school in the morning, she had started having issues with her breathing, falling into panic attacks when she'd see someone that could be Sophia or Emma from a distance, even her dad was beginning to notice her behavior.

Why was it that the two of them being gone was making this worse!?

Where was the threat?

When was it starting again?

What was going on!?



The Rig, Brockton Bay.

"So you have nothing?" Director Emily Piggot said shortly, eyes flickering away from the report she was reading, glancing over the masked visages of Armsmaster and Miss Militia, the two top capes in Brockton Bay's Protectorate.

"As stated in the report, the amount of gun residue on Jin Kentacho's hand does not match the amount of shots fired." Armsmaster declared stiffly, before bobbing his head slightly, "Other than that small fact, the scene is pretty clear and with no obvious sign of Parahuman intervention."

In other words, he had nothing. But of course he couldn't just come out and say that, Emily thought disparagingly. Too proud by far, that one.

Emily clenched her teeth as she read over the report again. Capes in general were an untrustworthy sort, as likely to deal massive collateral damage and civilian death tolls as they were to capture a villain. Shadow Stalker however had really come close to screwing Emily and the domain trusted to her with this stunt!

A newly revealed Ward had been involved in this disaster - her press conference reveal had been literally less than a week before she was now found dead, with lethal bolts in her possession, having killed two men. No matter how you spun that if it got out, shit would have hit the fan, with Emily poised to bend over and take it all without lube.

Shadow Stalker had been an unstable vigilante before being drafted into the Wards, prone to excessive use of force, but with a powerset that had been interesting and potentially useful enough to give her a slim chance to turn things around. Now Emily wished they'd just carted the girl off to juvie or an even deeper hole, because they had obviously failed somewhere in the process if she could go out on a solo patrol with lethal weapons - a week after she was revealed as a PR friendly non-lethal Ward.

"How did she manage to escape notice?" She asked bitterly, tapping at one particular point on the report. Shadow Stalker having gotten out of the building, alone, in uniform - which shouldn't have happened. They kept track of their Wards, precisely to keep them from disappearing off on their lonesome. They had enough problems with Vista trying to sneak off to patrol that they'd had to institute changes to the Ward program specifically for Brockton Bay.

Brockton Bay, already the outlier in the Ward programme, continued to push the boundaries even further - what did they expect when they drafted child soldiers? And Emily would be the one at fault, tch!

Shadow Stalker was new and on probation, so she was not allowed to keep a uniform outside of PRT hands. So she walked in, donned her uniform, and got out… It was a failure and a black eye for her command every step of the way. And if she was going to get reamed for it, she'd ensure the shit cascaded downwards.

Emily sullenly glared down at the report she was reading, knowing that even more changes would likely be forced upon them now that a Ward was dead - even if not known to the general public. Even if it wasn't much of a loss in Emily's opinion.

A lot of things shouldn't have happened in this entire sequence of events. Including the fool girl somehow managing to get herself shot and killed against three ABB rookie gangers - when she could dodge bullet fire with her incorporeal state. Had the arrogant little bitch really been that confident that she didn't even take basic precautions? She used a crossbow anyway, why was she in goddamn melee in the first place?

Parahumans frustrated Emily, especially the young and dumb ones. At least the adults sometimes had learned discretion. She'd trade out her entire Wards program for a solid adult cape or two, just for the resultant lack of headaches.

Well, slightly less headaches, she amended tiredly, eying the two capes in front of her.

"Well? Am I speaking to myself? How did this happen?" Emily growled out, inwardly seething, the ever present anger and disgust warring with her exhaustion, only exacerbated by seeing the two capes eyeing each other silently, waiting for the other to take the question.

They could kill her without an iota of effort, yet they quailed before her… Emily just couldn't understand why they pretended so hard that they were human, in times like these…

Although she supposed it was for the better.

Miss Militia straightened up slightly upon seeing Armsmaster holding his tongue, answering Emily's question with a steady voice, "At this point we only have speculation, none of the cameras caught her exfiltration of the premises, neither was she signed in or out or seen at all by any of the guards, the other Wards staying at the building confirmed they had seen her briefly in the common room, but that she told them she was going to go to the gym, her access card records show she never actually swiped in."

"I thought she was specifically wearing a bracelet to prevent her from going into a breaker state in the building for the moment, considering her very new status." Emily said irritably, this whole matter was a black mark on all of them. A Ward dying was bad enough, said Ward dying while in the process of killing two men, was beyond the pale. "For that matter, she shouldn't be able to pass through the building easily, due to her weakness to electricity either… Which begs the question… How did she get out or in, unseen?"

At least in dying and getting caught, the stupid child had made them aware that their policies and defenses were outdated or too easily bypassed - how else could she so easily pull this stunt off if someone wasn't slacking at their job?

Only the fact this was swept up so quickly by PRT friendly members of the BBPD was saving their bacon. A brief press release was rushed out in the days after, clarifying that although Shadow Stalker had been introduced in Brockton Bay, she'd always been destined for a transfer - and it had surprised all of them when it was so quickly approved shortly after her introduction. For all that the public now knew, Shadow Stalker was cooling her heels on the other side of the country doing her heroic duty, not resting six feet under due to hubris and general cape idiocy.

The Chief Director had agreed to fake some sightings at some point in the near future to keep anyone too nosy for their own good off the trail, and then they could just let her fade away - the PRT's reputation intact.

They were even getting a ward transfer in - which was supposed to further sell the idea that there was always going to be a trade in regards to Shadow Stalker. So as far as Emily was concerned, she was coming out ahead in this mess, and she now just wanted this whole thing put behind her ASAP.

Which meant clearing up all the how's of the situation first, so it wouldn't happen again…

Shadow Stalker was supposed to be wearing a bracelet to both track her inside the building and prevent her from utilizing her powers around the other Wards until she was deemed safe - which was a problem, because it, like everything else in this whole situation, apparently failed. With the difference inherent in most parahuman powers, and no breakers on staff, they hadn't had anything immediately on hand for her, and Armsmaster had cobbled together something for the situation - which obviously failed.

Which neatly explained why Armsmaster was being even more withdrawn than usual - he was sulking over the failure of his tech… Children, everyone she was working with were literal children!

Although if Shadow Stalker somehow had undersold her weakness to electricity and could pass through the walls, getting out of the bracelet wasn't impossible…

A Ward lying about their abilities, how surprising, Emily thought sarcastically. They'd never be able to tell for sure now, so she'd operate under the suspicion their people or equipment failed.

"At this point we have to assume she found a way to utilize her breaker state despite the technology, and then used her ability to evade cameras and personnel on her way out of the building." Miss Militia said apologetically, her eyes slightly pinched as she side eyed Armsmaster, the woman taking it quite personally that they lost a Ward.

Emily inwardly scoffed, she should take a more pragmatic approach, like her and Armsmaster, both of which weren't exactly heartbroken to see the girl gone. Speaking of said tinker, she turned to Armsmaster, eyes narrowed in accusation, "How did she break your technology?" She demanded to know. She didn't care how sulky he was, she needed to know the particulars to prevent a repeat if they ever had a similar situation.

Armsmaster frowned minutely, "It was a prototype," He admitted, sounding chagrined, "It was specifically made for her, but it's likely she undersold her capabilities somehow, or at least her weaknesses, because to my knowledge she should not have been able to break out of it." He paused for a moment, before adding, "Although there is of course a small chance that as a prototype it was not functioning correctly." His voice was mild, but Emily could read the tone, Armsmaster did not want that to be put in the report.

Which is why she'd had to drag it out of him in the first place instead of reading about it…

Privately Emily added a ten to twenty percent chance Shadow Stalker escaped due to defective equipment. The absolute surety of capes was more often than not a load of bull. And although she had decent experiences with Armsmaster so far, she wasn't going to take his word for it. "I see the school has been notified of her 'transfer', did the parents sign the NDA?"

Miss Militia frowned noticeably underneath her scarf. "She only had a mother, and she signed without hesitation in exchange for the money promised to Shadow Stalkers college fund that she had earmarked for working in the Wards, the money was transferred to her account instead, at which time she signed the NDA."

Emily wanted to surreptitiously roll her eyes, parental issues, join half the world, at least the mother will keep her mouth shut… "What is this about a best friend?" She noted a short comment on the withdrawal from Winslow of one Emma Barnes. This is why she held these meetings, the things they found unimportant to expand on in a report - usually was important.

"Before the NDA had been signed, Sophia Hess' mother had received a call from Emma Barnes, the girl apparently worried due to having lost contact during the night before, and Sophia's fate was accidentally released to Ms Barnes at that time." Miss Militia explained, she shook her head with a small sigh right after, "She did not take it well, her family signed an NDA eventually, having been read in by then by Ms Barnes while we were en route. She is not currently able to sign one herself."

Armsmaster interjected at that point, disapproval apparent in his body language. "A search of Shadow Stalkers possessions allowed us to note that her personal phone had numerous points of contact with Emma Barnes during the hours of her previously documented vigilante work, including mentions of taking said civilian girl alongside at some point in the past."

Emily felt a migraine coming in, "Why wasn't that in the report?" She barked out, glaring at the normally pedantic tinker. This was important information when this whole house of cards rested on no one finding out the fool girl was dead. The report simply had one line mentioning the girl off handedly!

Armsmaster paused, shifting his body slightly, appearing to be surprised at her anger, "The girl suffered a psychotic break, as of 24 hours ago her family has hospitalized her in a psychiatric institution. I saw no need in adding her to the official report as the situation is resolved."

Emily grit her teeth, forcibly calming herself down so she didn't snap at the man. He wasn't completely wrong in that the situation had resolved itself, for now. But if he omitted this from his reports, what else was he omitting because it wasn't needed. "In the future, everything to do with a case shall be in the report to myself, is that clear?" She snapped out.

It shouldn't even have to be said. Especially to Armsmaster who was usually overly pedantic about procedures. She was beginning to suspect he was covering his ass over something…

Armsmaster nodded stiffly at her reprimand, Miss Militia doing the same, even if it hadn't been directed to her. Emily rarely had problems with her, which made her an oddity amongst capes, so few of them understood how to follow orders properly.

"Moving on, what is the situation with the Wards like?" Emily asked, already working on something else as she kept half an ear on the other two.

A Ward going out on her own was already enough of a headache, even if thankfully she'd sorted it out by dying before she could make it worse.

She didn't really care to hear about what the others felt about it, but in her position she had to ask, to at least make an effort to show a semblance of care for their emotional states.

Fucking capes… She grumbled internally, Never can do anything simple when they can instead fuck it up twenty times instead…



Jordan had not been doing well. As in - hadn't left his apartment for a week - not doing well.

It's not the killings, he had no issues with that, for the most part. He had already decided that the trio of goons needed to die, he wasn't even all that broken up at Shadow Stalkers death in the end. Yeah she was a kid, which he hated himself a tiny smidge for killing. But he also knew she was a complete psychopath so he didn't feel all that shitty about it, other than the age factor, especially as she would have likely killed him when she was done with the others.

No, what made him feel out of sorts was the whole thing with suddenly gaining a power and the ramifications that lay in how he'd gained it…

Shadow Stalkers power. He had another cape's power. Through murder…

Because not only did he gain her power upon killing her. He instinctively knew how to use it after. How broken was that? He knew how to travel through solid matter, how to turn incorporeal, how to use it to basically float in the air, which would allow him to jump off fucking buildings! How to make a weapon go incorporeal and shadowy with him or when he'd fire one, and then how to leave it inside something, or someone, when he/it went corporeal again - which was a scary as fuck ability.

It basically said fuck off invulnerability, I'll just leave this shit inside you, unless someone's brute ability specifically stopped all breaker powers - which was not a common thing at all with brutes. They weren't all Alexandrias or had a fuck off shield like Glory Girl.

And for all he knew his ability bypassed the shield as well, he had no idea, it was possible but unlikely, she'd survived a direct hit from Scion with that shield after all.

…Either way,

All of it. He knew it, all of the skills inherent to the power, he hadn't needed to work for it, he didn't need to get acclimated to it. He had it all, in an instant.

And it scared him, because he knew he'd use it. That this power… Was exactly what he needed. He'd wanted it so bad, and yet, it also terrified him, because of what lay ahead of him…

To save Jana, to find a power capable of leaving this plane of existence, to travel back home, or at the very least to another earth that survives Scion without almost total annihilation - that was his goal.

Because why stay here if there was literally any other option - Jana wouldn't be safe as long as Scion would still kill everything.

The entire week, he'd forced himself to control the impulse to outright murder Amy Dallon. Panacea would give him exactly what he needed to actually heal his sister after all. Plus he could make her harder to kill, using Panacea's power to make her a low level brute at minimum, protecting his sister even further.

Not to mention everything else he could do, Panacea was actually rather shit at her own power all things considered.

Yet… He'd had to sit on that impulse. He wasn't a murder hobo, not even now with basically a power made for someone destined for the Slaughterhouse Nine, a power that fed off killing. He could only thank whatever deity that wasn't an absolute shithole - that his power only worked on Parahumans. He didn't want to imagine what kind of serial killer he'd become if killing a programmer for example - gave him that skill.

Obviously it was something shard related, and for once he thanked those alien parasites for not taking it to the very extreme capabilities of a power. Killing Parahumans for their power had its own issues. If Oni Lee came after him for example… He didn't think he could choose not to get a power, and he did not want that power in any manner.

Oni Lee literally killed his own mind piece by piece while utilizing his power, and Jordan did not want that shit! Oni Lee wasn't the only Parahuman around who's power he definitely did not want. What would happen if he killed a Case 53 while defending himself?

Or if he killed someone like Night from the Empire 88…

No, he needed to be smart, he didn't have any clue as of now how many powers he could collect, but he doubted it was infinite, because Scion would not have allowed for a shard that could grow so rapidly to potentially threaten him. Or maybe he would, the alien parasite was fucking stupid, even if also stupidly powerful.

He needed to find powers that synergize well together, covered his weaknesses, without being bogged down with powers that would turn him monstrous or fuck up his mind…

Panacea would have to wait… Jana would have to wait…

Killing Panacea was not something he could so easily do and get away with, and that was the unfortunate truth of the situation. Right now, he was basically a non-entity, no one knew about him. It gave him an edge because he knew so much about everyone else…

He'd seen on the news about Shadow Stalker's 'transfer', so the PRT had covered things up like he thought they would. Killing Panacea would not have the same reaction. She wasn't the international big shot that fanon liked to make it out to be, but she was an incredibly effective healer - one that healed Protectorate and Ward capes with no questions asked.

Her death would not be a minor thing. Even if he was 100 percent confident he could kill her in her sleep without any issues, that wasn't good enough.

They would investigate, they would put their thinkers on it. People like Coil would use his power to find Jordan and make use of him. And that was if wrecking ball Barbie didn't find out who he was through someone and killed him very dead immediately.

They'd look for people that had a problem with Panacea… The gangs wouldn't have touched her, she healed their capes in PRT custody too - if badly damaged. So when they broke out, they'd be back in business right away. The gangs wouldn't kill her and lose out on free healing before their breakouts.

If they began looking… If Coil and the PRT thinkers started searching… They'd easily find the person with no papers that threw a hissy fit at Panacea - he had made himself memorable unfortunately… They'd find that despite his age he was not in school, that he was a ghost, not in the system at all. He'd be a suspect on that alone and the thinkers would find him if they tried, simply by extrapolating what pharmacies in what areas sold a lot extra of the basic drugs needed for a catatonic young girl…

If he wanted to get Panacea's powers and use them without either dying or being captured - or having his sister kidnapped to be used against him… He needed to be stronger first. He needed support.

He needed to be in similar straits to the Slaughterhouse Nine, the Butcher, or in the case of not quite as openly evil - like Lung. He needed to be a cape no one would go after. And if they did force themselves to do so due to public demand - to be a cape with enough power behind him to win.

Which meant a gang. Which meant other capes and unpowered members. Coil had shown how useful those without powers could still be if trained and geared properly. Even the PRT sometimes took down Parahumans with just their troopers - even if they weren't of any use against the true monsters.

One of the reasons he was so angry with the heroes in the first place lay in this fact. Without the PRT artificially inflating villains, the army alone could kill a large percent of villainous Parahumans, leaving the Protectorate to field against only those like Lung or the Butcher - those too hard to stop by normal means.

They needed Endbringer fodder is why, but considering Jordan knew why they were getting whammied by said Endbringers… They should have spent more time looking for other solutions other than letting all the villains go because maybe they'd be useful one day.

Most villains only fought if they happened to be in the city being hit, so it was a shit deal anyway.

Since they had such a shit world, it was only fair that Jordan took advantage of their dumbass rules to make sure he was safe, so that he could ensure his sister was safe - that she'd wake up in a situation where she wouldn't immediately die or be kidnapped.

He needed a powerful infrastructure behind him capable of taking the heat of killing Panacea is what it all boiled down to.

Sure he could get her power and then threaten to unleash plagues or something if anyone came near him, if his power was going to make hers as intuitive as it made Shadow Stalkers it wouldn't even be that hard.

But if he made too much of a stink, became too dangerous on a world safety level, (Like say with the threat of plagues…) Then it was likely he would have Contessa show up to blow his brains out before he could even make one to threaten the heroes with. Another reason why he believed he couldn't just instantly kill Panacea.

That's what a week of brooding while obsessively thinking of murder plots had gotten him to.

He tentatively believed he was on the right track, because Cauldron hadn't interceded to wag a finger for messing with the all important path to victory bullshit. He refused to believe he was lucky enough to be a thinker blindspot that everyone and their mothers somehow always was in the stories he'd read.

This was real, and he obviously wasn't that lucky. So whatever he planned for now. It didn't run contrary to Contessa and her bullshit path… For now.

Perhaps if he kept thinking on all the good information he could give Cauldron… They'd let him craft a gang and grow powerful in peace, let him take Panacea's power…

Especially if he offered to continue to use it, to heal for the Endbringer fights, to perhaps even offer upgrades to certain Cauldron chosen people, or hell, help them stop Endbringers from showing up again… Looking at you Eidolon, you ego filled bag of cats!

It was another avenue to think about…

"Stop brooding!" Mai shouted through the walls, giving it a thump for good measure, a decent chunk of filthy something fell down from the corner of the ceiling. These buildings would be beyond condemned in his world, here, they were standard. Honestly they were lucky half the time if the heat or water actually worked.

He was being generous, calling it half.

"Yes ma'am!" He shouted back with some snark. Receiving an answering thump as Mai hit the wall again, could you read a thump as - don't make me come over there? Because that thump sounded like it to him.

Mai was way too scary for her age. Teenagers on this planet were nuts.

He still wasn't 100 percent sure if the water in this building wasn't toxic somehow, because it sure as fuck wasn't clear and sparkly. Hence why so much of his food money was spent on bottled water for Jana… The other half on meal replacement shakes… Nutrient bag IVs and the like was out of his budget, not that the bottled water or ensure was that much cheaper in the end.

At least now… He should be able to make some more money while he figured out the next steps, the power he now held was particularly useful in theft and robberies to the creative villain. And Jordan, if he was set on the path of villainy, definitely needed to be creative above all else.

Jordan sighed wearily, getting up, stretching out his tired muscles, having spent way too much time sitting and brooding. Endeavoring to find some cleaning supplies first of all, he moved towards the tiny cleaning cupboard that also held his small stash of cash. He didn't need to live in total filth, he could put in some effort, it wasn't good for Jana to be surrounded by mold and dirt.

And maybe getting up and doing something would spark something out of him, it was time to stop sitting in a corner to obsessively plan and worry - and instead go out and try and make some things happen.

He eyed the strange lump of maybe mold with distaste as he opened the cleaning cupboard. After he's cleaned up he'll see about going out, he needed to make some money anyway so he could continue to pay Mai to look after Jana.

Once he got on his feet properly, he could offer her the job full time, and get her out of here as well. Away from the sleazeball landlord.

If he was going to be a villain anyway…

Maybe one civilian death wouldn't be the end of the world…




After he was done cleaning up, he begged Mai to look after Jana, bribing her with promises of bringing back some Amanatto from her favorite little dessert shop. It worked even better than money in getting Mai to do what he wanted, so he used it sparingly.

Especially as they were pretty expensive, especially bought from the little old lady owned tea shop that Mai loved.

Soon enough he was out and on his way to get up to no good, his thoughts were on his power and what to do next.

A uniform was out of the question this early, he neither had the funds, the material, or the wish to be recognized as a cape at this time. Funds could be dealt with soon enough, but he didn't want to be known as a cape as of yet.

So when Jordan headed towards the trainyards and the derelict warehouse district perpendicular to the docks, he wore his shabby hoodie, and kept a simple black scarf in his pocket for when he'd need to hide his features - something he'd stolen off a brain-dead tourist he'd found half beaten to death in an alley two blocks from his apartment.

Why exactly the idiot had a black scarf in his fanny pack he wasn't sure, but it said something about how ridiculous the pack was because the muggers had left the fanny pack behind - and they usually took everything. Jordan had left it behind too after searching the man for anything else useful, because no fucking way was he going to be seen with it. He'd never live it down if Mai saw it.

Jordan had also taken the tourists boots, because they were almost his size and much better than his own ratty pair - he could live with half a size too small even if it was uncomfortable. In probability the only reason the tourist still had them was because of the size. The ABB goons that likely beat his ass probably left them behind due to not having any use for them. Most Asians weren't his size, and those that were had better jobs than running through alleyways mugging tourists.

This kind of shit still happened regularly, the airheads that came to gawk at capes and shop at the hideously expensive boardwalk started looking for cheap thrills - convincing themselves to go looking around the docks or the trainyards, thinking daylight made it safe. Despite the very clear warnings from the BBPD, the PRT and the boardwalk Enforcers - to not do that.

The lucky ones were only beaten half to death and had their money and possessions taken. And only because they were mostly men were they that lucky…

Jordan didn't very often see 'lucky' ones. Perhaps it's why he was so desensitized to killing when it was necessary - because he'd already seen so many corpses in the last year, he'd become numb to it all.

After all, the killing wasn't really what his problem was with his power. Albeit it had thrown him for a loop of worrying for a bit there. The issue was how much his ability would make people want to kill him!

It's why he needed to keep it on the down low for now.

That's why he was heading for the tiny slice of Merchant territory, if it could be called that. Which really it shouldn't, but it was the easiest way to explain the area where most of the junkies and homeless hung out and where you could sometimes find Skidmark's operations in full swing.

When he wasn't too fucked up to do anything at all.

Jordan had absolutely no intention of tangling with Skidmark or Squealer, neither did he want their powers, he wanted to pick particularly useful ones for himself that would synergize well in the future. Also, he wanted to stay under the radar, which meant not killing capes that people would ask too many questions about - or where they would be too curious about their disappearance.

He already had his first target, decided upon during his brooding. Independents disappeared all the time after all… Nothing to see there.

No, his presence in Merchant territory was for money, not capes. Skidmark was small potatoes as far as gangs in Brockton Bay were concerned, but he did provide a significant amount of drugs through the various dealers that either worked for him (a minority) or those that bought their products from him.

Jordan couldn't remember much about the Merchants, but if he were to guess, Skidmark could get more product in, more easily - due to Squealer. He thought he could remember invisible cars, or perhaps that was from other stories… But it made a certain amount of sense.

The derelict and empty warehouses were perfect to hide different facets of drug production and drug money collection in. Which also meant plenty of cash for Jordan to find, potentially quite a lot of it if he's lucky.

If he really wanted to start up his own gang, he'd need to deal with Skidmark and Squealer eventually, without killing them personally, and to gain subordinates he needed money - so weakening the weakest gang in Brockton Bay while enriching himself was a good start.

So that's what he'd go with, the gathering of resources.

It would also give him a chance to practice his power. He couldn't do it at home, one bad trip through a floor or wall and his neighbors would sell him out in a heartbeat. He somewhat trusted Mai, but he couldn't say for sure that she wouldn't sell him out if it was worth enough for her. That's the kind of people Brockton Bay creates and he couldn't even hold it against her.

If he could sell out a neighbor for money and protection for Jana… He would too. He'd feel bad, but he would do it. So he didn't hold it against Mai if she did, but therefore it was better to not risk that in the first place.

Not that he really wanted to use the power overly much to get through buildings, because he remembered Shadow Stalker had some issues with electricity and going through a wall seemed a good way to get shocked by some wiring at some point, and he wasn't sure how much damage she took for that shit. He'd have to practice carefully. He didn't have any crossbows, but he'd stolen Jin's gun when he'd left him his, so he was curious if the phasing power would allow him to fire the gun through walls, and have the bullet unphase on the other side or if the bullet would be too fast compared to a crossbow bolt.

It wouldn't be too useful inside, because he couldn't see through walls and most importantly walls could be shot through normally, but out in a fight, with people hiding behind cars or other barriers, being able to fire right through them, or right through a brutes invulnerable skin before the bullet came back into reality - would be one hell of a boon.

Especially as he'd be pretty hard to damage when he was incorporeal, so he could shoot at them and phase out and move around a battlefield pretty much unhindered. Most capes had issues with guns, but to Jordan, he couldn't give less of a crap about cape etiquette, he'd use a fucking gun if it gave him an edge.

So hopefully firing one while phased would actually work out.

He started seeing more homeless around, the people studiously avoiding him due to his size. He was close enough now to where he was going.

He ducked into an alley, taking a deep breath, okay, I can do this! He thought, psyching himself up as he tied the scarf over the lower part of his face, just in case someone did spot him.

Test number one, can I get up to the roof?

He bent his knees, preparing to jump, taking another deep breath before he settled his nerves and then… He jumped up, turning into his breaker state immediately after take off. Whereas he'd normally not get close to the roof as a normal human, his lightweight shadowy state allowed him to get much farther than he thought, not only going over the ledge of the roof, but almost going too far, as he almost floated to the other side of it and down the edge, turning corporeal again at the last second, boots and knees slamming into the small railing at the end of the roof.

"Alright… Not too bad, got all fingers and toes still at least…" Jordan breathed out, leaning against the railing, feeling a slight shakiness in his body, coming down from an adrenaline high at the successful test.

He felt pretty damn powerful right now, a feeling he immediately tamped down on, crushing it. He wasn't sure whether that was shard bullshit or his own bullshit - but he couldn't afford to get cocky. As he was, a lucky shot could still kill him, it had for Shadow Stalker…

He breathed out huffily through his nose, letting out a small soundless laugh, walking quietly over the roof, eyeing the next warehouse over. Flying power… I need to get one of those. He thought, just the feel of soaring up within the shadow state had been exhilarating, if somewhat scary for a moment.

He bit his lip, shaking his head. He had power testing to do, cash to find, now was not the time to think of looking up Kayden Anders in the phonebook and murder her in her sleep.

No matter how tempting that was, the same problem of retaliation still existed - and he wasn't strong enough yet - Kaiser wouldn't take Kaydens murder lying down. Concentrate on the now, Padawan, Jordan told himself, letting out a self deprecating chuckle.

He eyed the distance between the two rooftops, it was much too far of a jump as a normal human being. He eyed the distance to the ground, he'd definitely hurt himself if he fucked up, if he was normal. With his breaker state however, it should let him float down without injury if he missed his jump.

Not wanting to waste time second guessing himself, he jumped, switching to his shadowy breaker state as he did, grinning like a loon as he flew across the rooftop, over the divide and onto the other roof, only slightly dipping in altitude as he floated over at a decent speed.

Alright, this wasn't that hard… He thought, eyeing the roof beneath him, he noticed it had a small skylight, more metal than glass and filthy enough it was difficult to see through. He walked over and peeked inside, seeing nothing but disused and broken apart machinery. So not a warehouse then, a disused factory of some kind, everything but the heaviest machinery already scavenged or broken apart.

He doubted this place still had power, which was the most important consideration for him right now. He flexed his hand, he'd have to try it, and if there were live wires, he needed to know what the damage was from doing it outside of a battle. He turned into shadows, slowly sinking his hand and arm through the roof near where the skylight was, even though his entire being was in a breaker state, he hoped he could choose what part to push forward. He wiggled his fingers, able to see the shadowy form through the dirty window, a grin on his face at the absurdity of it all.

He'd confirmed, to his pleasure, that as long as he focused on only sticking his arm through, the rest of him, even in an incorporeal state, did not just fall through the roof, which was nice to have confirmed.

Time to change that partial effect, he took a deep breath, preparing for the plunge, before he forced himself through the roof, his sight momentarily blocked, the movement through the material much more sluggish and not nearly as quick as moving around in air, but still, he passed through in seconds, so not too shabby.

Finding himself inside the dark warehouse/factory, he slowly floated down, none worse for wear, proving he definitely could move through solid matter, although the fact that the factory was likely no longer hooked up to the grid prevented proper testing, like how electricity impacted him.

Well… He had a big empty space, he'd have to check to make sure no one was squatting in it currently, but after that…

Some live fire testing was due!



Fortress industries Endbringer shelter,

Coil had been doing some general business work in his secret underground lair, ensuring his finances continued to be unassailable and secreted away under so many covers and false trails that no one would ever find it, let alone connect any of it to him or his civilian identity.

Said civilian identity was busy doing paperwork at PRT headquarters in another timeline, Commander Calvert putting in the hours, being very diligent indeed. What he observed in that timeline had however changed what he was doing in his base.

For the last hour Coil had switched from a business focus to instead work on copying the paperwork that he was doing in the other timeline, since he'd have to dump that one soon, and at least this way, he could continue to show off his excellent work ethic by turning in the paperwork, despite not even having been at work today.

Commander Calvert was a consummate professional after all. Coil smirked underneath his mask, everyone knew that…

Being able to move in two timelines ensured he always had work done ahead of time, ensured he and his team never flubbed an arrest or made a mistake - constantly eclipsing his rivals within the PRT. In another year he'd be the only name to replace Emily as Director of the PRT in Brockton.

Having her hand him the metaphorical keys to her office as he replaced her, would please him in immeasurable ways and become one of the absolute highlights of his life.

He'd even been the one who had brought Shadow Stalker in, after spending a few timelines figuring out how she operated and where she'd roam, ironically nailing her right after she'd nailed a criminal to the wall. It had been quite the feather in his cap, bringing the vigilante in without Parahuman assistance, well, as far as they knew…. He'd even quietly recommended her for Ward conversion as a possible plot whose thread he could pull on in the future.

Of course, with recent events… He'd also quietly replaced the part where he'd recommended it, to instead note caution against it in the reports. Just another strike against Emily one day when he used it, as the ultimate decision of course fell on the Director.

In the Thomas Calvert timeline, he noted through his bugs that Armsmaster and Miss Militia were leaving Emily's office. He activated the hidden worm on her personal computer system, immediately cloning the report she'd received and any comments added after their discussion.

This is why a disposable timeline was such a boon. With Dragon in charge of electronic countermeasures, his worm would be immediately noticed on activation, even now the report was likely being sent and within minutes a PRT squad would be on its way. Calvert had written the SOP on these situations for Brockton Bay; he knew exactly how long he had before his office was invaded. Likewise his bugs would soon be noticed as well now that they'd been put in use and would be disabled with prejudice.

It was so useful having inactivated bugs and backdoors that couldn't be traced because in the kept timeline - they were never activated.

Yet he still retained what he'd learnt. There wasn't even any question on who had the best power in town, Coil was without a doubt the most powerful Parahuman around, brains beat brutes any day. He felt he had good reason to feel smug about it considering how easy it all was.

He read the report, having no issue speed reading through it, a smile growing on his gaunt face even as he did. Oh, this is just delicious… He thought, chuckling to himself even as his door was broken down, a mass of PRT troopers rushing in.

Coil let the other timeline end, mind whirling with what he'd found out, he immediately split again, so that the other timeline could continue working on paperwork while he thought things through.

He rubbed his thin lips through his mask, seeing only opportunity ahead.

Shadow Stalker had been a long shot really. Someone he'd pushed into the Wards to create dysfunction and to break up the teamwork of the other more stable Wards.

He'd been well aware of just how unsuited to becoming a hero Sophia Hess really was, but that had suited him just fine. If she succeeded he'd take the credit for her 'recruitment' and as had now happened - he erased the part where he recommended her - from the official report, when it turned out she'd failed instead. Something he could quite easily do without drawing Dragon's attention as he didn't need a hidden program for it, Thomas Calvert had access to that much. Now her recruitment lay squarely in the lap of Emily Piggot, an even better outcome than his wildest dreams, something Shadow Stalker had managed so easily with her moronic death.

Thank you, Shadow Stalker, he toasted amusedly, the angry little girl doing more for the city by dying and eventually delivering it to Coil, then she could have ever achieved being a hero.

Coil now had the perfect piece of information to squash Emily's career at the precise moment she screwed up just enough, the Shadow Stalker debacle just waiting to be released to the media to give her the final push out of the door.

A psychopath Ward had been recruited on her say so… A killer. A Ward that ended up dead, with the entire matter covered up from the public. It was deliciously juicy! The little cherry on top was the civilian girl in psychiatric care that had been involved as well, just furthering how unaware and clueless Emily would look once Coil released this.

Shadow Stalkers school chums knew about her vigilantism and extrajudicial killings before Emily Piggot! He could see the headline now.

This was way ahead of his planned timeline, how thoughtful of Emily to cover it all up, to give him the perfect justification to take her down with it, once the time was right for his ascension.

To think, he'd only surreptitiously had a key delivered to the girl for her tracking bracelet on a whim… To ensure she didn't explode on the Wards too soon, giving her the usual outlet in the city, hunting down petty criminals. And it had ended with such a perfect outcome for him.

He hadn't even risked any of his moles in the PRT, the girl had found her own way in and out.

It was not often he acted on a whim, perhaps some whimsy once in a while would add an unpredictability to his plans that would be hard to counter?

Coil scoffed to himself, amused at the thought, nothing beat a perfectly executed plan, whimsy had no part in it. Although he hadn't planned for Sophia Hess' death, his plan for her eventual success or disintegration inside the Ward program is what led to this outcome, so either way, he thought smugly, it was all down to his planning. Both outcomes would have led to a win only for him.

He turned to other matters, this summer was turning out to be very productive for him and his plans, but he needed to slot in some expendable Parahuman muscle…

Someone he could use from a distance, without drawing attention to his operations or his name.

His mercenaries were not enough for the culmination of his plans. There was only so much even a well prepared and well armed man could do against capes, even with precognition behind them.

He was already tracking two capes, loners with certain sociopathic mentalities that could do well for him, they weren't the leadership type however, which is why he hadn't bothered to approach them yet. Coil did not perform actions until they were laid out just perfectly so in his favor.

He didn't need to rush ahead, not with his power, the perfect accompaniment to his superior intellect.

He'd had his eye on a bruiser named Grue for a few weeks now, figuring out the petty criminal's motivations… The young man was much calmer and certainly more level-headed than the other two potential recruits. He also had an easily controllable factor in regards to his eventual loyalty. The situation in regards to his younger sister - his weakness. He was possibly worth a closer look to see if he could lead Coils team of undesirables.

Hmm, undesirables… Undersiders… Good enough a name for Brockton Bay, he supposed. They weren't meant to be more than his muscle anyway, and the more the teens were seen as their own entity, the less focus others would have on Coil's plots.

Until it was too late for them, and Coil owned everything in his sights.

Now… Where was that report… He had just the kind of person to add to the team to make it a cohesive unit. He had the potential muscle, the hidden ace, the leader… Now he needed the brains.

Pity that she was trying so hard to elude him, he'd have to take a stronger stance with this one than the others…

It would be an enjoyable timeline or two to test her limits…

Everything is going exactly as planned, he thought with satisfaction.





Jordan moved silently over the rooftops, having long since finished testing most aspects of his power - except sticking his hand through live wires, something he wasn't ecstatic about trying, even if he knew he had to at some point.

Now he was slinking from roof to roof near the trainyards, tracking Merchant dealers as night was falling, the limited 'day staff' that hung around for those purchasing during daylight hours heading back towards wherever they drop off money. At the same time, the more vast amount of night time dealers moved out into the streets, to ply their wares to the much more lively night crowd.

Even if the police presence was practically nonexistent in this area, homeless people and junkies still didn't move too much during the day, as if completely against the notion of being seen. Because of this, it had taken Jordan half an hour after his training finished to even find a dealer, one he'd watched since, and was now silently following. He was keeping in his shadow state except for a second here and there, just enough to have the power of a corporeal form to give enough juice to jump across rooftops in his incorporeal one.

Even if the people now moving about with some alaricy across the streets looked up - they wouldn't see anything with how his breaker state made him look like a dark shadow, and with night falling, that made him pretty indistinguishable in the dark, especially from a distance and with the backdrop of the night sky behind him.

He'd been able to fire a gun and pull off the trick of having it be incorporeal and then turn corporal while in use, although it took him a long time to get the timing right, with how fast a bullet moved. As in it took him several hours and more ammo then he had been comfortable wasting.

It definitely would be harder to pull off in real time in a battle as he needed to focus for it to work so far, especially as Shadow Stalkers power, like most breaker powers, did not work as anything but a full on change.

So he could fire a bullet while incorporeal, to shoot it through walls or car wrecks or a brutes skin, but to turn the bullet corporeal again he'd have to turn corporeal - it was all or nothing. So that was definitely a weakness to look out for, especially in battle. Even if it literally only required him to spend a second in-between switching states.

He'd have to practice a lot more to get the timing down, he didn't need to return to corporeal form for long, a second at the most - so if he got the timing down, it would limit his vulnerability while shooting someone through cover or their power.

Jordan peered over the roof of the building he was on, noticing where the dealer was headed, it wasn't a hard guess from where he was, the sight of actual working power in the small two storey warehouse down the street confirmed it. It wouldn't be noticeable from street level, but from his vantage point he could see the slight shine of lighting through the dilapidated roof. The windows were all boarded up, hiding any sight of light from street level.

It was a good place to use as a stash house, as despite having power, it looked more dilapidated and trashy then the buildings around it, keeping it low key and undesirable to squatters. Jordan didn't even want to chance the roof, with how many holes he could see light out of even from a distance, and the likely rust factor on the metal slats, it was just not worth the risk. His corporeal form would crash right through, and his incorporeal form risked being seen in the light to any discerning eye staring up.

It was time to get to street level, and investigate closer. He checked the street and could find no one else around except the dealer he'd been following, who was almost at the warehouse. He peered suspiciously at the adjacent buildings, trying to see if any of the second story windows had a potential lookout keeping watch for the stash house.

"Jackpot!" He muttered, feeling pleased with himself for his caution, catching the glint of something in one of the second storey windows in the building just before the stash house.

The street wasn't well lit, so he backed off and floated down the side of the building he was on, remaining in his shadow state as he peered out of the alleyway to ensure the street was still empty, the Merchant having reached and entered the powered up warehouse.

Must be using generators, or the power sap on the grid in this shithole of an area would tell the cops or anyone plugged into them - exactly where to find the stash house. He thought, looking both ways before he hurried across the street, ensuring he came up right next to the wall of the building the lookout was in.

With his shadowy state and the angle, the lookout wouldn't catch him unless he was particularly paranoid and attentive and sweeping all directions, including straight down.

Somehow he doubted a Merchant lookout was that attentive. He was probably being way too paranoid as it was - the guy was probably tweaked out of his brain and barely there, let alone keeping a proper watch.

He hesitated for a second, should I leave him… Before he immediately scolded himself, no chances! If he left the lookout and hit the stash house, someone might manage to run out, or the lookout would spot or hear a commotion. Jordan didn't know if he had the ability to call Skidmark or not. But why take the chance when he could end the lookout right now?

He was already a killer, so why was he hesitating? It was only a Merchant… He shook his head wildly, repeating the mantra - For Jana, it's to save Jana! As he moved forward slowly, looking for a door to enter the building.

He couldn't chance that this building as well had live power just like the stash house - and was just not actively using it to stay hidden. He had a work around though… Doors generally didn't have wires through them, so he was fine to phase right through those.

He soon found one, a somewhat broken corrugated metal door, that had a simple padlock through a set of chains that kept it secure, the chains wrapped through literal fist sized holes in the concrete wall next to it and through the door itself. Jordan scratched his head, or tried to, momentarily forgetting he was incorporeal. How do they get out if it's chained and locked on the outside? He wondered. He didn't see another exit, although perhaps there was a backdoor on the other side or a fire escape or something.

Either way, he supposed it didn't matter, and if this was their way in, it was only better for him if this lookout couldn't be replaced in a speedy manner. Looking up and noting that the window he'd spied something through was far enough away from the door, he decided the risk was worth it. The lookout was watching the outside, it was unlikely he'd be paying attention to this entrance, and Jordan wasn't very visible in the dark anyway.

With a simple movement forward he phased through the door, his gun in his hand ready to fire if he came upon a threat. But as he thought, there was nothing there, only debris and filth, and someone humming lowly in the distance… He looked up and noted the mezzanine above him, eyes searching until he found the stairs up. Good thing I'm practically weightless, that rusty shit isn't going to be quiet if I'd had to walk up it. He thought, eyeing the rusted to hell mezzanine and attached stairs.

He holstered his gun, all his equipment working to move around in this shadowy state, even if he couldn't affect his own body, like when he tried to scratch his head. Instead he grabbed the simple kitchen knife he kept taped to his pant leg with duct tape, lacking anything better at the moment. Firing a gun was too loud this close to the stash house, a knife would have to be the way to go.

He felt slightly ill at the idea of what he was about to do, but he steeled himself. He needed to do this, he needed money for Jana, he needed it to move forward with his plans, which would eventually protect Jana, he couldn't falter, not out of squeamishness.

This was another world. They were from a story, they're not even people. Not really.

What about Mai? His treacherous mind immediately supplied, forcing him to shove the thought away. He couldn't afford to debate himself now, he could only move forward.

He slowly moved up the stairs, knowing that the darkness in here wouldn't completely hide him if someone were to see him moving up the stairs or across the mezzanine, it would be too visible a motion in a confined space. Floating weightlessly was the only reason he could even move up, they didn't have a bad setup here… Anyone trying to get to the lookout would be heard from the get go with the rusty metal announcing their arrival.

When he reached close to the top, he slowly got on all fours, poking just his head out onto the mezzanine floor to look around the corner. He immediately spotted the lookout, the man sitting and humming on top of a pair of wooden boxes, looking out the window with a rifle and a radio next to him on the second box.

Good news, he was watching the window, not the mezzanine. Bad news, he must be the first Merchant in their short history to not be tweaking out of his mind on the job. Jordan couldn't even see any drug paraphernalia.

He slowly sank back out of sight, pondering the situation, rushing across the mezzanine was an option, but he didn't want the guy to possibly get a shot off or grab the radio before he could get him. The shot wouldn't do shit to Jordan, he was almost invulnerable in his incorporeal state, but the noise would ruin his plan to hit the stash house.

He was sitting in a mezzanine though, so no chance for live wires… It was all just rusted steel…

Jordan slowly floated back down the stairs, keeping an ear out for any change in the humming of the lookout, any possibility he'd noticed anything odd. Once he got back on the ground floor, he moved towards the lookout until he was almost right beneath him, still no sign of him being made.

He held his knife out, wanting to close his eyes and breathe out, but he didn't want to risk even that, closing your eyes in a possible combat situation was foolhardy. He turned corporeal, jumping up for the speed boost, immediately returning to his shadowy state, the push floating him up and through the mezzanine as he swooped through the metal as an avenging dark angel.

The guy never got a chance to even see what killed him, as Jordan flashed up behind him, sliding his knife into his back, aimed for his heart, and then he turned corporeal again, the lookout letting out a shocked death rattle as he stiffened, before sliding off his box, the knife firmly lodged into his heart.

Jordan himself was too busy to pay too much attention to the death, having rushed and been sloppy - going corporeal while a third of him had still been going through the mezzanine, in his haste to strike.

It was a supremely uncomfortable feeling to get pushed out of the mezzanine, painful to an extent, but more like a mental ache than a physical one. He thanked God that powers were bullshit and rarely harmed its own user - pushing him out of the material instead of leaving him half in half out, or worse, cut in half.

As he laid on the mezzanine patting down his legs to make sure they were there, he eyed the corpse, having mixed feelings about how easy it had been.

He should feel something, he was sure, but he just… Didn't. Compared to Jana, what was the lives of all these fuckers on this shithole Earth Bet worth?

Nothing, nothing at all…





Merchant stash house D, Brockton Bay.

Ricardo Iberra really couldn't stand most of these merchant freaks, a bunch of useless junkies and trash who could barely qualify as sapient beings on most days.

He'd met dogs smarter than some of these people. Fuck, he'd trust a dog at his back more then these jokers…

He idly looked around the main floor of the stash house, taking in all the trash spread around in between ratty couches and tables filled with drugs. They certainly live down to their reputation, he thought with scorn, not bothering to hide his expression.

Not like the dumbfucks were coherent enough to understand it.

Yet here he was, because despite everything, the idiots were profitable. Which is why he was paid a premium by the top shitstain himself, Skidmark, to guard the cash and product. Not from rival gangs, because they barely noticed their existence, but from their own people. The druggies and the homeless garbage people were more likely to knock over Skidmark's stash than an enemy.

That's why he'd been hired, why he stood here, bored out of his fucking mind, wondering if you could get high from proximity to druggies, an assault rifle in his hands. He was guarding the cases of cash, only allowing one man at a time to approach to deposit his shit, letting no one as much as stiff him a single dollar bill.

He could get better mercenary work elsewhere, Coil, several of the larger businesses in and around the area, even the Empire sometimes hired 'outside contractors' for deniable operations, not that they ever admitted it.

Even if he hated working for those pricks, money was in the end, money. And the only color that mattered was green.

Skidmark let him have ten percent of anything that came in to this stash house as long as he kept it safe and kept his people from fucking him. And Ricardo couldn't turn down that kind of fucking money. No one could. Although for that reason as well Ricardo was the only mercenary for the entire stash house.

It was amazing how much money could flow through a place like this.

The Merchants were small-time, but their drug trade wasn't. Ricardo had counted over 50k so far, and they still had the entire night to go. Looking around, his nose wrinkled as he saw Gutty - so named for his fat gut, standing out amongst a bunch of emaciated junkies - stand up and piss against the wall. Disgusting fucking freaks…

"Oy, the walls are yellow enough without you adding to it you fat fuck!" He barked out, not giving a shit about the decor, but he needed to uphold some standards, last thing he wanted to see was everyone becoming comfortable whipping their fucking cocks out all over the place.

Before he could get more than confused mumbling as an answer, the lights cut out, leaving the area lit only by the few candles around the room that were used to theoretically cover up the stench, keeping fucking candles around any drugs was dumb as fuck, but for the moment, at least it gave some light.

Fucking generator on the fritz again. Probably…

Ricardo swept the room with the muzzle of his assault rifle, squinting through the darkness, seeing nothing but the same junkie dealers, all crowded around the table with their meth and coke, except for Gutty, he couldn't see the fat man. He snorted quietly, probably the first time the guy has been hard to spot.

Seeing nothing amiss, he grabbed his radio anyway, just in case, keeping a casual eye on the junkies in case this was some ploy to steal some drugs or cash. "Ey, we lost power, you see something?" He called out to Rick, the only guy other than him that was dependable enough for lookout duty.

He waited for thirty seconds, growing grimmer the longer there was no answer. "Rick… Fucking answer me, man!" He barked into the radio, holding onto his rifle tightly, sweeping the room again.

"Gutty… Where the fuck are you? Say something you fat fuck!" He called out, growing suspicious, wondering if the fucker had set this up, detached from the pack to try and sneak around behind him when the power cut out.

"That's not a very nice thing to say to your friend." A deep masculine voice rumbled out of the darkness, Ricardo cursing as he turned the assault rifle in the direction of the voice, because that was definitely not anyone from the Merchants.

Who the fuck was hitting them? "I'll fucking murder you if you don't get out of here right now!" He threatened, holding tightly to his assault rifle.

"Guns are dangerous." The voice said reprovingly, a shadowy specter appearing right in front of Ricardo, a large smoky and shadow covered man, hands grasping his rifle, and suddenly, before Ricardo could fire, his rifle turned into fucking smoke and shadow and slipped out of his hands, the shadowy apparation in front of him tossing it away, out of sight before the thing disappeared into the darkness of the room again.

"Cape!" Ricardo screamed, tossing himself backwards, rolling over a couch, hoping the junkies would rally. Because what else could that fucking be?

"Huzzah? Whzzit?" Donald said, sitting stoned out of his tree on the couch Ricardo had just thrown himself over. The guy would be useless, he had been hitting the drugs hard for hours now. Fucking shit, shit, shit, what the fuck am I supposed to do!?

He could see movements in the lighter shadows, a swish of something there, a slight movement here, always just out of the corner of his eyes.

The only person that seemed coherent enough to listen to him, straight up ran - to Ricardo's frustration. The newly arrived dealer, who hadn't had the time to get as high as these other useless fucks just legged it, screaming in fright. Normally he was glad for it, for these people being wasted, glad for the fact that it made the stash easy to guard, even as he despised the useless druggies - but right now he fucking needed bodies, he reached for the knife he had in his boot, licking his lips nervously.

A cry from the door had him turn around, sweeping out with his knife in front of him, expecting an ambush, but cutting only air. The death gurgle of someone choking on his blood froze his own. Capes aren't supposed to kill. He thought numbly.

There were exceptions, like Hookwolf. But fucking hell, what was this monster? Was it Night? He'd heard that cape was something with shadows or darkness or something.

"Running away isn't very nice either, I thought we were having a good time?" The deep voice asked, the shadowy cape sounded more amused now, mocking them. Ricardo could just barely make out a shadow flickering away from the door in the candlelight. A body slumped against the door.

Why weren't any of the others moving? Why were they all just sitting there?

"You're all going to die you fuckers! Someone move or better yet, fucking call Skidmark!" He bellowed, feeling sweat running down his face, his fingers twitching nervously. He made another swipe with his knife, finding nothing, before slinking back next to Donald, wanting a body between himself and the threat, especially after announcing his presence like that.

A candle at the table closest to him suddenly was extinguished, making him lash out in that direction, hitting nothing again, a mocking chuckle following him.

He thought he could just barely make out a smile, before the shadowy figure sunk back into the darkness again.

"Why the fuck are you doing this? You want the money, the drugs? Just fucking take it!" Ricardo yelled, his heart beating rapidly as he blinked sweat out of his eyes.

"Oh, I'll take the money, don't worry." The shadowy specter said, appearing close enough to see for a moment, the dark eyes hard and unfeeling, making fear curl in Ricardo's gut.

"But you see… I don't like tattletales… So you all have to go…"

Ricardo cursed, turning around and madly shaking Donald's shoulders, trying to wake the fool up, only to jump back and shriek as he noticed the bloody smile cut into his throat.

"Emilio? Dennis? Nat? Anyone? Gutty? Someone fucking answer me!?" He babbled, backing away from Donald, stumbling over a foot, falling with a terrified gasp as he fell over into a pile of meth and coke, smashing right through the table, scrambling away on all fours, his hair and face covered in powder.

"Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh shit!" He cried even as another candle was extinguished to his right, only barely recognizing that he was crawling over bodies. The others having been so still because they had already been taken care of!

They're all dead! I'm next! Oh, god no! Please no! He thought, swinging his knife ahead of him even as he continued crawling madly towards the door, his legs too weak to bother with standing up.

He started crying as he stumbled into Gutty's body, recognizing it because of its bulk.

"He bit off more than he could chew, one could say." The shadow said, calmly walking up next to the body shadows curling around him/it whatever it was, it wasn't even hiding itself, pointing at Gutty's mouth, a knife sticking right through his jaw. "Get it?"

"Please, please, I'm just hired to guard the place, I'm not with the Merchants, please!" Ricardo begged, he couldn't do anything against a cape, he knew it, he just didn't want to die. "I have a younger sister!" He screamed in terror, tears and snot trailing down his face as the shadow squatted in front of him, another knife in its hands. "Please, without me she won't survive!" He begged.

It was even true, hopefully his sincerity would shine through and save him, some capes, even the murderous ones, had the weirdest hang ups and left people alive over the tiniest things.

Ricardo prayed honestly and true for the first time in his life, looking into the dark smoky eyes of the apparition before him, seeing the unfeeling disregard in them.

The shadow seemed to pause at his statement, looking almost human as it hummed and tilted his head, examining him, giving Ricardo some hope.

"You know, I almost cared, really. But then I had a thought." The shadow mused out loud, leaning forward, tapping the knife against Ricardo's cheek it sinking in slowly, Ricardo's own knife slipping out of numb fingers as fear took over everything, his bladder releasing as he saw the end of all things in the eyes of the monster.

"You see… Only my sister matters."

….

Jordan stood in the dark room, dead bodies surrounding him, the smell of voided bowels impugning the air, the junkies having not even put up a fight. He idly looked down at the only one that had given him pause, the man even in the dark, looked terrified, even with one eye destroyed as Jordan's knife was stuck through it.

Why had he done that? He looked around him, suddenly feeling a bit out of sorts. He had planned to kill them all… But….

Shit, he thought, feeling dread building in his gut, was Shadow Stalker a sadistic bitch because of her own issues, or because of her shard?

Because why had he made the choice to do that as he had done, he'd just planned on killing them quickly, why had he suddenly decided to play with them? To scare them, to haunt them, reminiscent of Shadow Stalkers play with the ABB goons.

Sure enough, after he took the assault rifle away from that one guy there was no threat anymore, so then why fuck with the guy instead of putting him out of his misery? Why show himself at all, he could have cut the power from the generator and knocked them all out without them having a clue on who had done it…

Was he so nonchalant about killing because of his own motivations? Or because his killing for power shard - liked killing?

And how can I even tell…?


Standing amongst the bodies Jordan wasn't sure of what to think.

But he needed to figure this out, before he added more powers to the mix…

Or would he even be himself? Or just a bundle of shard impulses?




Author's note:

So no Panacea kill yet for obvious reasons. Although one wonders if Jana will even recognize her brother by the time he can heal her…

Undersiders formed sometime in late summer I believe, although I could have the timeline wrong, so here they're just about to be collected, with Lisa following shortly thereafter.

Also means that here Shadow Stalker just became a Ward, and although she and Emma have bullied Taylor, it's been for about a year, not 18 months or whatever it was going to be originally up until Canon. I might have the timeline mixed up somewhere, but this is what it is now then.

Jordan isn't suddenly going to be put off killing, nor is his shard taking him over, that said, there is some bleedover from the shards and he is pretty new to this entire thing so it's reasonable for him to suspect things.

Feels better than asking yourself why you're having so much fun being a bad guy.

Cheers
 
Chapter 3: Gotta Catch Em All!
Here's chapter 3: Gotta Catch Em All!

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Join up if you want early access, goodies, or to vote for me to update this story over my others or vice versa, either way, posts will keep coming, just faster for whichever story gets voted in.

Next story up is going to be Panacea's Remedy as per my Patrons vote.

This is Worm, so warnings for death, destruction, depressing and disgusting shit and Nazi language.

Standard disclaimer - Worm belongs to Wildbow, it is not mine, I am simply playing in the kiddie pool.



It would be thematic to - now that Jordan had a target in mind - to have a thrilling arc of chasing down leads on said target, having stake outs on chilly rooftops, with fog clinging to the streets around him as Jordan pondered the difficulties of finding one single human being in a city of 350 000 weary souls. Finally, after a grueling chase, cornering his target in a dark alley after weeks of hard nosed detective work, dispensing witty one liners as he put an end to the entire chapter.

Except Jordan didn't need any of that. Because he had a name. In fact he had something even better. Two names. Brian Laborn, and Aisha Laborn.

If he couldn't find Brian, he just needed to find Aisha, and she would lead him straight to Brian. And Aisha went to school, was in the system… Considering her colorful personality and deadbeat druggie mom, he could rule out the best schools in the city, giving him an even smaller search radius. She was likely living with her dad now since Grue was around and his trigger event led to her moving, but Jordan doubted it changed much about her school situation - Aisha would remain just as much a hellion and wouldn't fit in at a private school.

First of course he'd tried to simply find Brian in the phonebook, but considering he was both underage and an independent cape, Jordan wasn't quite that lucky, wherever Brian lived he wasn't listed. There were no Laborn's at all listed, including Celia Laborn, their mother.

But Aisha Laborn would surely be found in school records, so he had his in - school records would have an address.

When he'd had his week of brooding and introspection, he'd gone over every cape he knew about in Brockton Bay, lining up pros and cons for every power, and what they would mean for him if he had them. He had also researched how reality matched his memories, and had found nothing on the Undersiders as a team. Knowing he still was far away from the nominal start of the actual story he'd read, he saw it as a lucky sign, a chance that Grue might still be free from Coil's hooks.

The thing was that Jordan could theoretically assassinate most anyone in the Bay as he was right now, Shadow Stalkers power was made for it. She was an ambush predator, which was fitting considering Sophia Hess' personality and beliefs.

But he also knew that the larger the rock he'd throw into the pond of time right now, the larger the ripples would reverberate through the timeline. Could he phase right through Lungs skull and kill him way before he ramped up? Probably, with a bit of luck… But he'd invite conflict, he'd have Lungs power, but not his reputation.

The city would be on fire if he did such a thing, not a goal of his when his priorities lay elsewhere right now. They lay in getting stronger wisely, with gathering a strong support structure for protecting his sister. In healing Jana while also making it so no one would fuck with them - then they could work on finding a power to get the fuck out of this world.

In the back of his mind he was well aware of Cauldron, they hopefully wouldn't care about his actions too much if they were measured, might even want to recruit him or at least find out what he knew - as long as he didn't go too far, too quick, upset the balance too heavily. If he just slaughtered a bunch of top tier capes out of the blue - it would require a response.

No… Slow and steady won the race. He had time, six months, until a locker incident that wouldn't happen now, or at least he hoped it wouldn't… Skitter was not someone he wanted to mess with, bugs did not sound like a pleasant way to go. It was as good a set point in time as any, however.

Panacea would die in six months' time, that's the longest he'd allow himself to wait…

No matter what, in January Amy Dallon would die. He felt a bit better at that, an imaginary weight on his shoulders releasing a little at setting that point to himself. If he didn't do this, he'd worry he'd never be powerful enough, and he would just keep setting the date back and forth, while gathering more power.

Six months, he could do that. It was plenty of time to start gathering what he needed. Although no plan survives contact with the enemy, he felt slow and steady would be for the best.

Anyway, he was getting away from the point, his goal wasn't to make the biggest splash possible… It was to build up as secretly as possible, gain a support base, money, muscle, powers - without anyone being any wiser to precisely what was happening.

And it all started tonight, with Grue. With Brian Laborn.

Checking over Brockton Bay's school system had taken a few days, but he hadn't had to do it himself, he'd simply slipped a few dollars into the hands of street kids and described Aisha. He'd promised the kid that found her and found out her school or home address and brought news back first, would get 500 dollars.

A tween to teen with a purple streak in her hair, good looking but dressing trashy as all hell and with the mouth and rebellious attitude to go with it, Aisha Laborn did not take long to track down, being so conspicuous.

She was definitely not someone that went unnoticed well, which was ironic considering her power when she triggered. Doing everything to be seen and then gaining a power that made her completely invisible... If she triggers again… Jordan might have to pay her a visit as distasteful as it would be, if he could get to her while she was visible anyway.

It would be like completing a set, and would fit in well with his beginning build that was all set for stealth and ambush. He probably wouldn't be able to do it though, a teen like Grue he could stomach, but a thirteen year old? Might be too much for him no matter how useful a power.

He could freely admit he wasn't a good person, but there were layers of evil, and he wasn't quite that kind of evil.

A street kid had found Aisha hanging around some friends one day, recognizing some of the other kids and what school they went to, but had lost Aisha when trying to tail her home - the girl obviously wasn't stupid and had some street sense behind her. The kid that found out the deets earned himself 500 bucks either way, because it was enough, Jordan could finish the rest himself.

He kept the street kids on retainer as well after, offering them cash for information on anything, small or large, cape or non cape news. It didn't cost him too much, and could be very useful, street kids tended to know a lot more than people realized.

To avoid himself being too visibly a part of the news they'd spread, he'd only approached them at night, keeping out of sight, tossing the money at them from the rooftop of the alley they'd congregated in as he offered the deal. If he wanted their information, he had to go to them, which was unfortunate and could lead to him missing some fertile news at times, but it was how it would have to work temporarily - until he could send a minion to be the contact.

Or he could just absorb all the street kids into his own gang, once he had the beginnings of an infrastructure set up. He kind of wanted Mai onboard, but was afraid to even broach it, with her experiences.

He easily slipped through Aisha's school, closed due to it being summer still, although they were creeping up to the end of it. He was using the doors to phase through, not wanting an electric shock again. Which he'd tried out the day before, as he needed to know how it worked - tried out by sticking his hand through a wired wall, the experience was, he found, very painful - and stopped his power right in its tracks, so a repeat would be a definite no for the future.

Slipping into the school office, he rifled through the cabinets, quickly finding Aisha Laborn, and more importantly… Her address. She also had a very large amount of notations on her file, someone had problems with authority it seemed.

Well, he didn't disagree, it was a shame he'd have to hurt her, because she was one kid that had the right idea - everyone in authority were crooks.

Just as quickly as he'd found the file, he was gone from the school, none the wiser.



Aisha and her dad were home when he got there, which simplified things, he'd spied them sitting down for dinner - having phased into an empty apartment in the building across from theirs for some quick reconnaissance before he would strike.

Jordan assumed Brian and Aisha didn't spend a lot of time together right now due to his criminal career having kept him mostly outside Brockton Bay, but Brian being who he was, he'd surely keep a phone number in case of emergencies. Especially considering the last time he got a call from Aisha needing help.

With both Aisha and her dad here, one of them would have that number he hoped. And since the Undersiders were recruited either recently or soonish if he was to go by his best guess, based on what he remembered - Brian would be in town.

It felt odd, walking down the hallway towards their apartment, knowing he was a supervillain now, that this was real. He was actually on the path of becoming a new Kaiser or Lung. Just hopefully not as… outright wasteful and bad at their jobs as they are.

Funny how he felt like that now, and not when he murdered almost a dozen people. But killing gang members didn't feel all that real, or like he was doing a bad thing. It was a funny perspective on things. He regretted somewhat killing the one non junky, he could have perhaps tried to recruit him - if he hadn't been so intent on killing everyone to prevent any word on his abilities.

A missed opportunity there.

He didn't know still how much his shard affected him, or if Shadow Stalkers shard also was in there, messing with him, but he'd decided it didn't matter. He couldn't do anything about it anyway, and he wasn't going to stop. Couldn't stop.

Blaming the shards… Felt cowardly, like his decisions were blameless. He hadn't felt bad about killing those people, not more than a twinge of unease anyway, he needed to own that.

Doing a home invasion on a thirteen year old girl and her father so he could murder her brother… Made him feel a lot more villainous than before.

Yet… He couldn't say he completely hated it. After a year of scrambling like a rat for everything, facing a future as a supervillain didn't sound too bad.

Striding down the hallway of the fourth floor of Aisha's building, people moving out of his way, running away, locking their doors on seeing him pass, it held a certain… Appeal to him, seeing the reaction simply over his passing. People looked at him and saw a threat, looked at him and folded, submitted. He didn't hate it. He didn't hate it at all.

And they didn't even know for sure he was a cape, all they saw was a large black man, face hidden by a hoodie, moving with violent purpose through their building. In Brockton Bay, that was enough. When he'd been using his size to intimidate and mug people - he'd felt bad about it, about the situation he was in, about what he was forced to do to keep going. But now, with powers, it didn't feel the same, it felt more natural - it felt right.

Jordan arrived at the apartment, checking around him to ensure no one was watching. No one around here would talk anyway - it was that kind of neighborhood, but the less people knew, the better. Let the cops think this was a normal home invasion. No cape shenanigans involved.

He'd keep it fairly quiet and quick anyway, keep the neighbors guessing, he didn't want too much of a commotion, to keep Brian unaware for as long as possible in case he did keep tabs on this place.

He plucked a tear gas canister out from beneath his large bulky coat, having more money helped in so many ways… He set it off and immediately phased, sticking his arm through the door in a throwing motion, releasing the tear gas canister, going corporeal again right after he brought his arm back through the door.

Out of another pocket, he brought out some goggles, he'd remembered Shadow Stalker being pepper sprayed, so he'd come prepared in case the tear gas affected him, his goggles and scarf should be enough to protect him. Just as the shocked exclamations and the cries and coughing of the inhabitants started, he phased through the door, after making sure he had no watchers peeking out at him.

He made an immediate beeline for where he knew the dinner table was, the man who could only be Brian's and Aisha's father not even noticing him as Jordan momentarily turned corporeal to deliver a heavy blow to his head, he was not quite successful in knocking him out, the former boxer likely used to knocks over the head. The red eyed and coughing man looked dazed from the hit though, as he fell back into the kitchen counter, the apartment not large enough to have a separate kitchen and dining area.

Jordan quickly solved the issue of the man's consciousness with another vicious strike just below the ear, the man falling like a cut tree, kitchenware making a racket as he caught some with his arm on the way down.

Jordan turned and found Aisha trying to crawl away, eyes red and puffy as she spluttered from the effects of the tear gas. He calmly walked after her, his heavy boots crunching through fallen porcelain plates and broken glass as he approached.

He saw himself in a full length mirror briefly, chucking to himself, his large frame was wreathed in shadows, his eyes appearing as black holes in a smokey face, and it all brought to mind the visage of a Sith Lord if anything.

He'd have to be careful if he ever made a costume, or he would really come across as an edgy teenager.

"F-Fu-Fuck Y-you!" Aisha managed to cough out from the floor as Jordan came to a stop, squinting up at Jordan's form, no doubt unable to see anything but a large blob, useless for identification purposes. And how like Aisha to not ask how or why? Just a straight up fuck you.

He liked her spunk, too bad her brother's power would be so useful for his purposes.

Jordan turned corporeal once he got right behind her, lifting the young girl up, his arm coming around her throat as he gently squeezed. She tried in vain to struggle, the vicious girl immediately going for his bits, which he put a stop to, her struggle was pointless in the end. It didn't take long before she was so much dead weight, and Jordan dropped her slowly down onto the floor.

He looked around, the neighbors wouldn't dare to call the police, not for a long while, not in this area, and he hadn't made enough noise that anyone would think he was murdering everyone else - so that would hold them back even longer. It was Brockton Bay, no one wanted to be the next victim. They'd wait until they were absolutely sure he was gone.

Not that he was murdering anyone here…

He took his time, slowly walking through the apartment and messing up drawers, tossing shit on the ground, breaking things, taking the wallets and resultant cash, as well as the father's watch, making it seem like a normal non-parahuman crime.

The father's phone did not have any number labeled Brian, so he looked for Aisha's. A girl like her, no way she didn't have a cellphone, Taylor had been an aberration in that way in the Worm story, due to her mom - a normal teen would have a cellphone.

Jordan had murdered people, committed robberies and muggings, he just now did a home invasion where he viciously beat a man and choked out a young girl, yet it was having to slip his fingers into the back pocket of the miniscule shorts that didn't belong on a thirteen year old girl, to finagle her phone out, that finally made him feel disgusted.

Maybe it's because I can't imagine Jana wearing something like this… Jordan thought, looking down at the unconscious young girl. Or the fact anyone could see a girl this age and have… Thoughts… Maybe that's what disturbed him so much.

It was heavily hinted at in Canon that Aisha had been molested. Jordan was a villain now, and was becoming in every way a supervillain. Grue had already taken care of the man that likely did that particular crime. If Jordan found anyone guilty of the same…

He had no problems with prostitution or the like, he was going to build a criminal gang after all and that was good money right there, as there were always women willing to perform the job. But underage girls… The practices the ABB held with gang rape to break girls, drugging them to make them compliant and dependant on them, making them into slaves. He would put an end to that.

Lethally.

No one would be forced into slavery if he had a say in it… He was a villain, but some things were beyond the pale. He would already have a hard enough time looking Jana in the eyes after all this, at least if he could clean up trafficking and sex slavery in his territory, he could have some pride.

Could hold her hand without feeling like he didn't deserve to.

He scowled as he thought about it, using Aisha's fingerprint to open her phone, crouched over her prone body, until I am strong enough to remove Lung and not set the city on fire, it will have to stand, he thought reluctantly.

"Bingo!" Jordan muttered searching through Aisha's phone, finding Brian's contact number, simply labeled as bro, but it couldn't be anyone else.

He set a few texts scheduled to go off half an hour from now, pocketing the phone. He needed time to get into position. Taking both phones with him would serve to sell the robbery angle, also if Brian had surreptitiously installed some GPS in his sister's phone, it would show up at Jordan's location to sell the lie he was selling too.

Grue's power specifically fucked with breaker states like his own - it's why Shadow Stalker had hated him, so this only worked as an ambush. Grue could have no idea that a Parahuman was coming after him. If he covered the entire area in darkness Jordan wouldn't be able to utilize his power at all - which would likely lead to a bad end.

Jordan was counting pretty hard on most powers not working against oneself to ensure his own breaker state didn't get fucked inside Grue's power, once he made the power his own.

The advantages with Grue's powers and in his disappearance - were too numerous to not take the chance however. If he could manage it so no one knew Grue was dead…

Jordan went out the fire escape, making his way down into the alley next to the apartment complex, feeling anticipation building. So far… So good. He went into a light jog as he started moving down the street, evening falling over the city. He had some distance to cover, he had half an hour until Brian got the texts, probably around an hour to arrive after that, depending on if Brian had a vehicle or not to come riding to the rescue - if Brian had a car, he needed to be in place as soon as possible.

He needed to get a damn car himself, at least until he could just get a flying power and get around that way, once he was out in the open, once he had his own territory of the city where no others would tread without his permission.

He'd made the plea from Aisha a simple one, using the vernacular he saw in Aisha's regular text conversations.

Bro! Plz cm pick me up!! Friends were F jerks! Dumped my sweet ass by mf docks!

A quick text would follow with the general location, with Aisha not answering if Brian called or texted back, something that would hopefully ensure he rushed in. He'd be on guard, but for possible ABB goons prowling for young meat, not for an assassin.

If he never showed, well, Jordan knew where Aisha was now, he'd find a way to get to Brian still, if he was too busy to come pick his sister up from sex slave central.

If the Undersiders had already started… He hoped they were too new for Brian to trust them with his sister or his identity and that he'd come alone anyway. He'd withdraw if Brian didn't come alone, it would be too risky otherwise, and he certainly had no interest in Rachel's powers.

Jordan had already prepared the area, a rusty shipping container near the water would have a small light shining in it, courtesy of a simple flashlight, with a scrap of cloth fluttering in the scraggly entrance hole carved into the container, just big enough for a small human to crawl inside.

He had everything he needed to make Grue disappear, now he just needed the man himself to actually show.

Time would tell.




Brian sighed, dropping the bag of groceries on the couch as his cell phone went off in a specific trill, that specific tone meant only one thing, Aisha was contacting him. And at this time in the evening, after months of silence, it was bound to be over something that would give him a conniption fit.

He hoped she hadn't gone and visited Celia again, because that never ended well… His fists clenched momentarily, if only he could fix things for her…

But getting custody required things he couldn't easily get. It's a longshot, but I'll have to find a way. He thought, jaw clenched, he had the determination, he'd find a way.

He looked longingly down at the already prepped chicken meal he'd picked up at the grocers, before fishing his phone out of his pocket, maybe this time it's for something good. He thought, trying to be positive.

Either way, it wouldn't do anything good for his ears if he left Aisha on ignore.

Months of silence or not, she'd call to bitch him out for that, he thought with gentle amusement.

Reading the text, he was immediately torn between two emotions, pure horror that his sister was where she was, with the dress sense she had! And intense relief that she was okay, and texting him for a pickup.

She was doing the smart thing, thank god, and not trying to solve it herself. Which only showed how spooked she must be, he thought, as he rushed out of his apartment, barely remembering to lock the door on his way out, his groceries forgotten as he rushed downstairs.

He flew down the stairs, not yet panicking, knowing Aisha could take care of herself pretty well, more like he was… Cautiously rushing. He winced as he shoulder-checked the entrance door to his apartment building, the glass cracking into spiderwebs. I'll hear about that, he thought ruefully, knowing the old lady next door to him already had it out for him.

He slid into his other neighbor's car - the guy too senile to have ever noticed Brian's use of it, he'd grabbed the key easily enough, it having been 'hidden' in the gas cap as usual. Soon enough afterwards, the tires of the beat up old Chevy squealed as he tore out of there, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard the plastic was creaking.

Driving with one hand on the wheel he pulled out his phone again, calling his sister, wanting a more up to date location. And to hear her voice, just to see for himself that she was alright.

The tenseness in his features tightened even further as the call went unanswered, immediately his eyes flickered down to check for any new texts, finding none.

He angrily pushed the button to call again, a flicker of worry in his gut. Answer the phone, Aisha!

He blew a stop sign as darkness began to waft off him, shrouding his shoulders and upper arms, his power leaking as his anger and fear rose.

The only reason Aisha would stop answering…

He growled low in his throat, eyes hard, the ABB… If they touched her…

He pushed the gas pedal down as hard as it could go, no one really cared about traffic rules around the docks anyway, and he was coming up on them. He groaned in annoyance as several cars blocked his way at a red light, choosing to swerve onto the sidewalk briefly to continue on, thankfully with no pedestrians nearby to get in his way.

He continued down the roads in the dock, pushing the car as fast as it could take.

He saw red and green in flashes as he pushed the car forward, ABB soldiers patrolling their streets, he forcibly pulled in his power, he wasn't masked, he couldn't afford to be stupid.

What felt like hours after the text, he skidded to a stop, stepping out the door of the car before it had even stopped rolling, moving towards the various shipping containers rusting by the edge of the docks. Aisha had last texted him about hiding in the container yard, so she should be here.

He knew better than to shout Aisha's name, in case there were ABB soldiers about, he narrowed his eyes, lips pulled into a grimace as he reached for his phone anyway, thinking about calling again. Because… Was there even anyone around? The place seemed completely deserted, and the ABB weren't known for their stealth.

There was nothing around, he couldn't hear anything but the sound of the waves crashing into the docks, darkness falling quickly, limiting visibility. Especially around this area of the docks, without any working street lights within blocks, or any buildings with power.

His finger hovered over the call button, he couldn't hear any movement, so the place wasn't crawling with ABB, so why did he feel so on edge?

In the end there was only one possible choice, he needed to find Aisha. He pressed the button.

His ears perked up, as he just barely heard her ringtone not too far away, he moved slowly towards the sound, grimacing at the ringtone, an Aleph song, Aisha only kept playing it because it was from a hip-hop group called Slaughterhouse, the frustrating imp found it funny… It had been months and she still had that same stupid ringtone…

She just liked how upset people got when she told them the name, like the little brat she was, he'd have more than a handful to deal with if he ever got custody.

He was too young to feel old enough to caution someone about their music taste…

He let darkness coalesce lightly around him as he walked closer, no one would see him using his power here anyway, and if someone had hurt Aisha…

He needed to hold on to his power to keep some level of calm, so he wouldn't rage at the unfairness of it all and do something he'd regret.

Why else wouldn't she answer unless she was hurt? He refused to think of worse possibilities. He saw some light just barely ahead as he stepped closer to the sound of the ringing phone, there! A rusty container at the very edge of the docks, he stepped forward in long strides, pausing as he saw a thin strip of cloth caught in the edges of the small crawl space.

Like someone had been in a rush to get into the crawl space, and had gotten caught on an edge. Worriedly he looked for blood, but it was impossible to tell with all the rust and discoloration.

It looked like a beast had tried to claw its way into the container, perhaps the work of a case 53 at some point, he was just glad it was obviously old damage, so he didn't have to worry about a monster sharing space with his sister.

"Aisha?" He called out carefully, stepping closer, turning the flashlight on his phone on and pointing it at the jagged and rusty entrance, not seeing anything just inside, but it was a large container, so she could be further inside.

Something feels wrong… He thought, looking around himself warily, finding nothing out of place, no one around… He didn't hear or see anything wrong, but something still felt off.

It's her phone…She must be in there… He thought, shrugging off his unease, no one even knew who he was, the odds of anyone kidnapping his sister, or stealing her phone to lure him here was ludicrous, besides it was against the unwritten rules anyway and the ABB soldiers wouldn't be this circumspect either. He shook his head, stepping forward, it would be a very tight fit, but if his sister was unconscious in there, he needed to get to her now.

The fact he was unmasked and it was his sister involved comforted his paranoia, capes wouldn't do this, and he could handle non-capes just fine, he could just drop his darkness down over the area and grab his sister and get out.

As he leaned down to look into the opening, he heard a scrape above him. Darkness sprung into being around him as his head rose in a jerky motion of surprise, his eyes widening in shock as he looked straight into the barrel of a gun.

His power surged forward as adrenaline spiked.

The crack of a gunshot echoed across the container yard, then there was only silence.




Jordan felt like his body was on fire as he moved slowly back towards home, he was once again thankful for his size, as he wasn't waylaid by any ABB soldiers or punks as he walked through dark streets, plenty of gang members out and about showing the colors.

His ambush had worked, he'd laid on top of the container, gun in hand, hardly daring to breathe in case Grue would catch on. Thankfully the ringtone that kept playing as Grue had kept calling Aisha's phone, had helped hide any noise he might have made while lying in wait.

Thankfully no one ever looked up. Something he'd be keen to take advantage of in the future as well.

Grue's power had rushed up to meet him, but Jordan hadn't been in his breaker state anyway, so it wouldn't have mattered. He'd had a perfect bead on Grue, leaning over the edge of the container, his gun aiming right in the middle of his forehead. The shot hadn't missed at such close range, and Jordan almost thought he'd taken a bullet to the skull as well, as the pain was at least twice as bad this time around.

His body still ached, feeling sore and beat up, but he had succeeded and that elation overwrote any pain. No pain no gain after all. And he had it, Grue's power. He'd only briefly tested it before dumping Grue's body into the bay, belts tying his body to cement blocks to keep him from surfacing anytime soon - and his new power hadn't impeded his breaker state at all, the powers had synergized as he'd theorized.

Cooperating, or perhaps it was that his own power simply took over? Either way, as long as it worked, it was good for him.

He could now blanket an area in shadows that limited not only people's sight, but their hearing, their movements, and even radio signals and similar communications. Plus if he ever ran into Behemoth the darkness did protect from radiation too. It would also be a perfect power for disengaging from an enemy.

Right now that was the most useful aspect in case he got caught in over his head.

With his shadowy breaker state making him almost invulnerable and the darkness shaker power making him invisible in an area of effect where only he could see - He felt a lot more comfortable. Especially because one of the greatest benefits of this power would be that as long as he wasn't seen, anything he did with it, would be construed to be done by Grue.

And for what he had planned… If 'Grue' got a bad reputation or had people after him, he could just stop using that power for a bit.

It wouldn't be enough of a misdirection to take down Panacea yet, thinkers would still find him eventually if he went that loud. But… Othala…. Grue killing Othala wouldn't have Tattletale or Watchdog putting their thinking caps on to chase him down. The Empire didn't have anyone that could imitate their work, and Kaiser was unlikely to beg Gesellschaft for help after losing a cape, adding salt to the wound like that wasn't his style.

He'd intended to focus only on independents for a while still, but as he held Grue's power in his hands, he couldn't help but think that he had an opportunity here, to utilize Grue as a misdirection, gaining what he needed without risking recognition before he was ready.

Othala… Could he?

He was broken out of his thoughts as he heard a commotion ahead of him, it was Shoaling's grocers, It was being smashed apart by a large group of red and green colored thugs. Shelves of products had been dragged out of the building, the windows were smashed, he could already see a few broken people - employees most likely, either dead or unconscious stacked up outside the grocers.

This is that idiot Assault's fault. He thought angrily. The fool hero showing up in uniform at a hidden weapons shop in ABB territory, what did he think would happen? With how terrified of Lung the average Asian in his territory was, every person in the store probably reported it, afraid of the consequences if the rest did and they got caught out having kept it secret.

And of course most ABB goons sent out to teach someone a 'lesson' wouldn't differentiate between the hidden shop and the grocers that hid them. Why deal out a proportionate response like an actual sane criminal group when you could just piss on everything and smash it like a bunch of evil toddlers.

Ruin a business you could get protection money from for years just to wave your dicks, smart business sense that…

He turned to take another route, this wasn't his problem.

A pained cry stopped him, just for a moment, a young girl's cry of anguish. It's not my problem. He thought, shaking his head, if he were to save every girl that was in trouble in the docks he'd never do anything else.

Considering how he'd used Aisha, he wasn't the savior of girls everywhere anyway…

He froze momentarily, almost able to picture his sister's disapproving stare if she could see him right now.

How are you going to build a following, a gang? If you never stand for anything? The thought intruded on him over all else, making him hesitate. Because he did keep making excuses not to help, and he had power now, where he could do something. Could he face Jana again if he couldn't at least do this? His sins would stretch across the sky, but he could do something good.

I don't have to show myself… Grue could come to the rescue… He thought, warming up to the idea. Even if someone (Coil) managed to get the deets on Grue - it would show Brian Laborn and that he'd gone to ground. Perfect cover for him to continue to utilize the power while everyone wanting revenge went looking for Brian…

Just as with his loose plan to go after Othala now, Grue could take all the blame, not a new cape, he could probably leak his identity as well, and make sure people looked for Brian - someone they couldn't find.

It probably would mean bad things for Aisha though as Brian's sister.. He was going to have to do something there wasn't he? That was going to be awkward…

He straightened his shoulders, coming to the decision, he wasn't doing this out of altruism, he was taking the first step in building a base. Standing up against sex slavery and the other abuses of the ABB, it would help him gain actual followers. The fact Jana would no doubt approve if she was awake and aware…

And if Lung started looking for Grue for revenge? He'd just silently stop using his power for a while and go back to relying on Shadow Stalkers power instead.

There was a wet crack just as Jordan moved forward to begin his attack against the group, hastily pulling his scarf back over his lower face. A baseball bat had just smacked into someone's head, at the same time Sun Hee screamed in absolute fear, calling out, "Gramps!"

Jordan watched in slow motion as the old man fell, assuming it was him through context as he was unrecognizable, his face pretty much pulp now, Sun Hee held by two ABB goons nearby, screaming in absolute horrified denial as her whole world fell apart. The grocers behind her began to catch fire as the ABB soldiers threw Molotov cocktails through the broken windows. Smoke swirling as her entire life went under the flames.

Sun Hee screamed again, an absolutely broken sound, eyes staring unseeing down at her grandfather lying in a pool of blood.

Jordan only had time for his eyes to widen in an oh, shit, moment - before he momentarily blacked out.



He came to, shaking the cloying dizziness out of his head, blinking heavily for a moment as he straightened up, eyes immediately going for Sun Hee, who'd just triggered if that little black out was any indication.

He was thankful he didn't get to remember the vision this time around, it was freaky enough the first time. Especially as he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to remember it at all. He sure as hell wasn't a Noctis Cape.

Although that was something to get at some point, it would be very useful.

He swore as he saw that the girl was unconscious, one of the ABB goons had a lick of common sense it seemed, whatever power she'd gotten, he'd knocked her out the second anything happened by the looks of things, the goons currently arguing with each other over her unconscious body.

However she manifested her power, he'd just missed it, but the goons obviously hadn't.

He could hear some arguing to take her to Lung, while the majority was arguing for killing her immediately, as by her cape status she'd immediately be drafted higher into the ABB than them, and would likely get revenge on them. If this happened in Canon… I wonder how many Asian capes were just killed immediately after triggering so their ABB abusers wouldn't have to face them when they became Lungs new lieutenants…

It had been a bit odd there weren't more capes in the ABB considering Brockton Bay was a prime triggering environment. Considering Lungs reputation, it tracked.

Darkness rushed out from his hands, flowing forward to envelop the entire street in thick impenetrable darkness, Grue was about to get a very lethal reputation, but Jordan couldn't let these bozos report back to Lung about an Asian cape, or kill her - his own measures to save her now more important than before as she was now useful. As shitty it was to think that way, it was reality.

A gang could have as many goons as you wanted, what protected your people and territory was capes. And Jordan needed his own capes to follow him if he wanted Jana safe, he couldn't be by her side 24/7.

The goons cursed and screamed as darkness enveloped them, some tried to run, some stood their ground, they all died the same, one gunshot wound to the back of the head. Every single one of them - their movement in his shaker effect was too sluggish to get very far before he could swoop down on them. It was a calculated move in the end. Sun Hee would be more amenable to him surely, if he not only saved her, but also killed her tormentors.

And most importantly it ensured Lung wouldn't know she was a cape. She'd be grateful for that much at least. She'd need her cape persona, her civilian one just became persona non grata in Brockton Bay.

He stopped by the old man, surprised to see he was still alive, he hesitated, looking towards Sun Hee, she surely believed he was dead already…

No… For his plans, his gang, his sister, he'd do horrible things. But he didn't need to be a douche just to be a douche.

In the end, he slung the old man over one shoulder, he would still likely die, but he could try his best. He bent down and grabbed Sun Hee, the girl much easier to carry as he hefted her over his other shoulder, beginning to jog away from the scene, keeping the darkness up as he moved.

This would attract the Protectorate, maybe even Oni Lee - hopefully not Lung. So he needed to get into a building soon, somewhere he could drop the darkness before pursuers arrived, thankfully the shaker effect was big enough he could make it seem to be around one building while sneaking off to the edges of it into another.

He growled in annoyance at all this happening, he just wanted to go home and put an ice pack on his brain, he wouldn't make it all the way home now, not without leading everyone in Brockton Bay there by the time he got there.

He'd have to improvise.

He should have walked away…

What a bad fucking time to suddenly become a bleeding heart…





"Mai, I need a favor."

Jordan leaned back heavily against the wall of the apartment he'd broken into, eyes peering out the window periodically, he'd seen Oni Lee teleport around not too long ago, but it seemed he'd gotten away scot free, Oni Lee had been heading in the other direction.

It was a barebones bachelor apartment, a rickety table, an AC unit, a TV and a computer that sat precariously on the rickety dining table pretty much all that occupied the place, there weren't even any chairs, just one pathetic stool.

He'd laid his two unconscious rescues on the sole bed, thankfully clean looking, even if it was the only thing in the small bedroom, and placed the call as soon as he'd taken stock of the situation.

The way the old guy was looking, he wouldn't survive long without some treatment, probably wouldn't after either, but he should at least try.

"I'm already doing you a favor." Mai answered back dryly. "At this point I'd prefer you to be like any other guy and ask for a blow job instead of more favors…"

Jordan cringed slightly at the answer, he really didn't want to push Mai too much, but she'd just been so helpful he couldn't help but seek her out again and again, he'd never had enough to pay her properly… Not until now, but then she hadn't gotten her fair share of that yet, so he could understand her skepticism.

"I need a discreet doctor that does home visits, got a guy with his head smashed in." Jordan said tiredly, moving right past Mai's answer, because he couldn't do her justice over the phone "I'll pay you, a thousand dollars in it for you past whatever the doc costs, if you know someone that can come right now."

There was a pregnant pause for a moment before Mai spoke up, "What have you gotten involved with, Jordan?" She asked, a tinge of concern to her voice that surprised him, even if it was only because he knew her pretty well - that he could parse it out from under the annoyance predominant in her reply.

"I don't really have time to get into it." He said frankly, before sighing wearily into his phone, "We'll talk later, Mai." He promised, because he couldn't leave her completely out of the loop, "Right now I need that doctor for this old man or he's toast."

Another pregnant pause came before Mai answered slowly, "I know someone, yes…" She said, sounding reluctant, "Jordan… If you're messing with the ABB again, I can't… I won't…" Silence took over the call as Mai, always so caustic and confident, suddenly seemed lost for words.

Jordan closed his eyes, rubbing his face, fuck! "It's not like that, Mai." He lied, "We'll talk later, please, I need that doctor right now."

She'd counseled him to kill the ABB trio, so that the rest of the ABB wouldn't have any idea of him, to stay somewhat anonymous, not drawn into the ABBs sick games.

However, fighting the ABB as a whole, as she seemed to suspect to be the reason behind this call… Considering her background, he couldn't fault her for refusing the risk. He was not surprised she picked up on it either, whenever Lung or Oni Lee were on the move, people called each other in one long chain, whole areas being warned about their approach. So she knew something had happened, just not what.

And she knew Jordan needed to have someone looked at by a doctor, while the ABB was searching for someone… Fuck, I'm going to have so much to explain…

"What's the address?" She answered after several minutes of eerie silence as she seemingly thought over whether to help him or cut all contact immediately. He was glad he had enough trust that she'd chosen to let him explain himself. As she was looking over Jana for him, he couldn't have her suddenly cut them loose.

This entire year he'd basically been alone, breaking down as a human being more and more, and Mai was the one that had kept him sane, giving him time away from killing himself slowly at his sister's bedside. He owed her, he owed her alot, and an explanation was the least he could do.

He gave the address, letting out a breath of relief, "Thank you, Mai, I swear I'll explain when I get home, you're in no danger, I promise."

I hope I'm not lying about that…

She let out a scoff, muttering something in Japanese that didn't sound complimentary, before hanging up with a last tossed, "You better, idiot!" Before she did.

Jordan looked out the window again, having seen no more Parahumans in the area during his phone call, thankfully. His earlier sighting of Oni Lee had been followed by seeing Miss Militia gunning it down the street towards Shoaling's as well. With the Protectorate around, things would probably not escalate, the ABB would want Grue, not a pointless tussle with the heroes.

A sniffle brought him out of his brooding, as he jerked away from the wall, turning towards the bed, where a teary eyed Sun Hee was holding onto her grandfather.

"You're getting a doctor for Gramps?" She asked, sounding so vulnerable and small that Jordan was reminded of Jana in a way that softened his immediate response. She'd obviously awoken in time to listen in on his conversation.

For all that she'd looked like a confident cocky vibrant girl when he'd met her, smart and good enough with her hands that her grandfather was letting her take charge of an underground weapons shop, she was still a teen who just had a traumatic experience…

So he needed to be careful here, but still make sure she knew the situation.

Jordan slowly - while telegraphing his movements - came over and sat down on the foot of the bed, "Your grandfather is badly injured, so I have a doctor coming to do what he can, but I can't promise anything more then that." He said carefully, watching Sun Hee intently, just in case she freaked out and let loose whatever power she now held.

The slim Korean teenager with her big expressive hazel eyes, gave him a tremulous wet smile, as she bowed her head, "Thank you, for trying, and for saving us?" The last came out more as a question, and Jordan nodded briefly to confirm it.

They waited in silence for the doctor, the girl crying silently as she held onto her grandfather as Jordan sat silently and watched, feeling uncomfortable, but not sure how to comfort her, he wasn't familiar enough to her to hug her, he was fairly sure. So in the end he ended up just patting her leg awkwardly until the doctor arrived.

Letting the man in, he was surprised at how young he was, he couldn't be more then twenty one, twenty two at the most. An Asian man of course - who else would Mai know? His expression was severe as he entered carrying a large duffel bag.

"The patient?" He asked promptly, not bothering to introduce himself, looking around the apartment warily. Beneath the jacket he was wearing, Jordan could just barely see a gun holster as well.

So he was someone used to moving in these circles then - most doctors or healers did not carry weapons, because even Parahumans tended to leave unarmed healers alone. Criminal savvy doctors however knew exactly how shit people were and that they'd break any such rule if it was convenient, and therefore protected themselves.

The guy might be young, but he was obviously not stupid, a good sign for his doctoring skills, Jordan hoped.

Jordan showed the doctor the bedroom, waving him ahead silently, the man taking one look at the patient, scowling darkly as he shot a look at Sun Hee, "Get rid of the girl, I don't need an emotional twit around me while I do my work." He barked insensitively.

He dumped the duffel bag at the foot of the bed, promptly beginning to bring out medical gear, fully ignoring the two of them like they weren't even there, or like he expected he'd be fully obeyed and therefore didn't need to worry about them anymore.

His bedside manner left something to be desired, no wonder he was a back alley doc and not a professional, Jordan thought, grimacing at his attitude.

Sun Hee glared at the doctor, opening her mouth to argue, but Jordan cut her off with a sharp hand motion, before waving her over. As she wavered stubbornly at the side of the bed, seemingly unwilling to leave her grandfather behind, he spoke up, "Is it more important that he gets seen by a doctor or that you are in the room with him?" Giving her a pointed look.

He understood how she felt, because if it was his sister in here, he wouldn't want to be out of sight either.

She glared weakly at him at that, but doubtlessly saw his meaning, because she trotted out of the room reluctantly, Jordan following behind her, closing the door to give the doctor the privacy he obviously wanted.

Last thing he saw before he closed the door was several containers normally used to transport organs.

If Mai had sent him an organ harvester they were going to have words about the people she hung out with… He might not be her big brother but she needed to stay safer than that.

If he was some sort of off the books doc that working girls called in under the table, it was no wonder he was like he was though, working in ABB territory. He was probably not licensed to practice either or he'd be working somewhere more official. Jordan would keep that tidbit for himself, no need to worry Sun Hee more than she already was.

"I'll kill them…" Sun Hee muttered, clenching her fists as she stood in the middle of the room, tears in her eyes as she glared at the door separating her from her grandfather.

"They're already dead, I executed them." Jordan told her seriously.

Sun Hee gave him a mullish look, "Then I'll kill the rest of them!"

Jordan raised an unimpressed eyebrow, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, "Your grandfather is going to have what to say exactly, about you challenging Lung?" He said challengingly.

Sun Hee floundered at that, her soft roundish face blanching slightly, "I mean, not Lung, but the others." She deflected, looking uncertain, her hands moving around in the air as she spoke, the girl seemingly uncomfortable with stillness. She noticed him looking and ran a hand through her short dark hair, self consciously.

"Let me worry about Lung… Eventually the ABB will pay for everything they've done." Jordan said seriously, giving the girl a dark and promising grin, "Right now, your grandfather is your priority, right? Let me worry about the ABB."

Sun Hee nodded jerkidly, hands twisting together, "Right, who are you anyway? I remember you, from the store, when…" Her face twisted in sorrow and anger, "Assault came by."

It seemed the girl had picked up on the reason why she was in the position she was in, good, it made it less likely she'd become a ward. "My name's Jordan, I saved you and your grandfather because you didn't deserve what happened to you, and I refused to let the ABB continue to terrorize another young woman in my presence." Not entirely true, but with enough truth in there to sound plausible enough.

It's not like his lie will matter, since he is going to use his Grue persona to hassle the ABB now that he can hide his real power for a while by doing so. So as far as the girl would be able to tell he really was the crusader against the evils of the Azn Bad Boys.

He'd intended to wipe out the small-time Merchants first once he got going properly, draw in the homeless population for starters. But this actually worked better, there was untapped potential in all the people that hated the ABB, including many who worked for them, out of necessity - or fear for their life.

It would be quite some time before he could remove Lung, but his power was good for escaping or hiding, so he could continue to hassle him at the edges of his territory, stealing people from him from every successful caper.

Inwardly he was worried that he was changing his plans on the fly so much, but with his power able to evolve so quickly, and the situation changing with a cape triggering right in front of him, he needed to reevaluate his situation.

The doctor he'd hired through Mai, stepped back into the room half an hour later, wiping his hands with a towel, a look on his face that told Jordan the news already, Sun Hee was obviously a bright girl, noticing as well, as she slumped slightly, a slight whine coming out of her throat.

Props to the girl, she still held her back straight, and didn't break down completely.

"He's alive, but he won't last more than a few days at the most, a hospital might be able to save him, but in my professional opinion, with his age, and the amount of likely bleeding in his brain being behind the significant swelling there, it's not likely to make much of a difference, and with his jaw and nose practically crushed, he just doesn't have any prospects." He stated bluntly, and without as much as a by your leave, he picked up his duffel bag of medical supplies and left.

Sun Hee ran into the bedroom, bottom lip wobbling as she tried not to break apart, falling across the bed to hug her grandfather, the low whine in her throat coming out again.

Jordan followed, brow furrowed as he looked over the tableau in front of him. He had an opportunity here. And he could help his own sister at the same time. It wouldn't be as good as Panacea, who's power he could use to significantly improve his sister's survival ability, but Othala would do enough - for both situations.

He'd liked to have been more powerful like he'd planned, but having everyone looking for Grue, not him, would help conceal his sister from harm.

"Sun Hee, if I can save your grandfather, will you swear to me? To help me dismantle the ABB and build something better in its place?" Jordan asked seriously.

Better being relative when it came to crime gangs, but anything would be better then the ABB right now. Well… Maybe not the Teeth.

She gave him a disbelieving look, sniffling slightly, "The doctor said nothing could be done…"

"There are Parahuman healers…" Jordan pointed out, he could already see her look of derision at the odds of one of them helping her, so he continued on, "I have a power that could help me acquire healing abilities, but it would be very dangerous for me, and could start a gang war… I can't honestly do this without you being one of mine." He stressed, well aware that if she actually turned him down, he'd have to kill her to ensure he remained under the radar as anything other than Grue.

If she brought her grandfather to the hospital she might be lucky enough for Panacea to come by that hospital in time, but it would be a lottery, she had too many patients to ever see everyone that came in with a life threatening injury and an old man wouldn't be a priority. Sun Hee would be taking chances with his life, on a hero. He was fairly certain she wouldn't.

Sun Hee bit her lip, watching her grandfather, before she wiped her eyes furiously with the back of her hand, meeting his eyes seriously afterwards, "You save my grandfather I'll do anything you want, forever!" She swore grimly, one hand clutching her grandfather's hand fervently.

"Then I'll do my best to earn that honor." Jordan said, still curious about what power she had, and if it had pinged off his own, and if it did, which one? The shadowy powers of Shadow Stalker and Grue? Or his own killing power? But now was not the best time to ask, he was on a time limit.

He left the bedroom heading towards the computer whoever owned this apartment had set up in their living room. He booted it up, immediately starting to search up Medhall, he knew some names of Emptor 88 capes, Max Anders of course, he also knew Krieg and Hookwolf's identities, and knew that Crusader was named Justin…

While he didn't know Victor or Othala's civilian names, they'd no doubt be part of Medhall in some capacity, and likely fairly high up, far enough up to likely be on the Medhall website and their public staff directory. And if he could find any company pictures where Kaiser, Krieg and company were standing around… He could extrapolate that most of those closest to him would be the other Empire capes.

Someone like Victor who could steal skills was likely high up in the company as he could actually do useful work for them, likely having stolen all business related skills ages ago.

It was kind of ridiculous how easy it all was in the end. There were several pictures of company retreats showing how nice and family friendly the upper echelons of the company was - and alongside Max Anders in many of them, was a fit arrogant looking man with a much younger wife, who's hair incidentally always covered one eye, the eye where Othala wore an eye patch.

Got you! He thought with vicious delight. It can't be this fucking easy! Followed the thought, as he not only got their names, but another quick search found their home address. Apparently Medhall had its own little sponsored gated community… How cute.

It was a big move… A daring move… It upended his carefully thought out plan completely, embroiled the gangs in a likely war - with Lung already irritated and now the Empire up in arms… Coil would take advantage for sure.

But… It would be Grue who set it all off, while Jordan could avoid using that aspect of his power for a while after this, and adding Othala and Victor's powers to his powerset… He'd be able to move unseen in the background grabbing resources and people while the Protectorate, Coil, ABB and Empire squabbled with each other.

Planning was well and good, but this was Worm, and long term planning was pretty much impossible because you never knew when you'd get a Lung sized interrupt, a surprise Echidna, or pop up Endbringer. It was best to take the opportunities when they happened.

He looked towards the bedroom, and I have an opportunity right here… To gain the loyalty of a cape, and the chance to heal his sister at the same time, way earlier than he'd had planned even hours ago.

Yes… He thought, watching the smug visage of Victor as he held his child bride while standing around all his neo-nazi friends… This will work out after all…





He was thankful it was already nighttime as he headed for the more affluent area of Brockton Bay, it made it much easier to move around. Victor pulled in a good amount of cash at his position for Medhall and he had the home to match it.

Walking the streets in this area as a large black man in ratty clothes was just begging for a death by cop, or Empire beating situation. So he simply sped through properties in his breaker state, avoiding lights and people as he used rooftops when he could and alleys and side streets when he couldn't, until he came upon the little HOA of Crescent Hill. A nice gated community just a stone's throw away from Empire territory while still being part of the 'rich' area of town.

The community had actual security, even if by the looks of them they had other masters. You could dress a skinhead up, but they'd always look like a skinhead to anyone with a discerning vision. They weren't wearing Empire colors, but looking like cheap SS soldiers as 'security' uniforms wasn't being very discreet.

He'd have to see if that security company was wholly Empire owned as well, could be worth a look to see if he could fuck it up for them without the whole Medhall debacle.

Luckily the fencing covering the entire community were simple cement blocks at the bottom, with metal fencing on-top, all of it covered in large hedges to hide the utility of the fencing from the people living in the community. But the most important thing was that it wasn't electric fencing, so Jordan could avoid the gated checkpoint and simple phase through the fencing.

There were cameras here and there, but it was not that hard to find the blindspots as he could move much faster and more surreptitiously in his breaker state then a normal human.

According to his research, Krieg, as well as Victor and Othala all lived in this community, which had him suspect there were other Empire cape members who could possibly be hidden in this quiet community as well.

Not Hookwolf and Cricket however, it wasn't really their kind of neighborhood.

He was forced to wait, hidden in his breaker state in the hedges, the patrols on the street and the lights from porches and street lights making it too risky to move further.

He might have been able to pull it off, but if there was even one chance of a warning getting sent off, he would be facing at minimum three capes, instead of ambushing them in bed.

After today he'd probably have to drop Grues power for a few months, because he might actually get a kill order if Kaiser releases that he'd killed people unmasked and in their homes. Funny how he just got the power and would already do so much he might have to shelve it for awhile.

Kaiser probably wouldn't be all too willing to let Victor and Othala's civilian identities be known due to their ties to Medhall, so perhaps he'd avoid a kill order for Grue, but either way he'd be hunted.

Although it served them right considering they'd welcomed the criminal who'd murdered Fleur of New Wave into their midst with open arms. And probably had a hand in doing it in the first place… Jordan didn't see a point in following the unwritten rules, when the PRT, Empire, Coil just to name a few, would all break those rules anytime - if it happened to be convenient at that moment.

He was stuck waiting, stuck in place until 3 am, the porch lights all off long before, but the patrols and street lights were still annoyingly going strong. But at 3 am, the lights dimmed, and the patrols became less frequent as the guards began coalescing around the gates.

He moved quickly, going behind houses and through well manicured backyards to make himself as hard to see from the street as possible, nothing more then a shadow flitting through the dark night.

He arrived at Victor's and Othalas two storey Victorian style house soon after, their home immediately standing out compared to the ones he'd passed by. He could spot five security cameras in the backyard alone, that could be an issue…

Going around and checking the rest of the exterior of the large home, he found several more cameras covering the entire exterior. He narrowed his eyes in thought, hiding in some bushes, remaining in his breaker state. He could cover the entire home in darkness to have fingers pointed towards Grue, but he couldn't count on Victor and Othala remaining asleep through that. He'd rather not have a fight on his hand, even if he could still probably kill them even if Othala gave Victor invulnerability.

With how used he was to travel by roof, he looked up, noticing immediately that the cameras were all facing downward, covering the exterior, but not the roof itself. Which made sense, because why would they? Normal people don't expect flying people to land on their roof. It seemed Victor didn't want to stand out too much, even if his neighbors were likely at the very least sympathizers.

Jordan made his way into the neighbors backyard, they weren't nearly as paranoid and only had one security camera, and from the looks of it, it was fake. Turning corporeal for a second, he jumped, returning to his breaker state as he made his way onto the roof, his shadowy form moving slowly to the edge, facing the Nazi couple's home.

He double checked no cameras were facing up or could see his approach then he turned corporeal again and took a big leap, grinning triumphantly as he floated onto his target's roof. He looked over the edge, spotting the cameras, ensuring none covered the window he was nearby before he took any action. Then he turned corporeal again, taking a few deep breaths, grabbing the ledge and flipping over, holding onto the ledge long enough to swing himself back towards the house, aiming for the window, letting go and using his breaker state just before hitting the window, phasing through, ending up floating in a second storey bedroom, a guest room most likely.

It was entirely plain and unadorned, it seemed the Nazi's didn't have people over for board games often, or whatever Nazi's did when they hung out.

He moved over towards the door quickly, phasing through it, head on a swivel in case there were cameras on the inside of the second floor as well. Finding nothing in the hallway, he moved to the door opposite of the guest room. Sneering at the decorations on the wall, seeing way too many Nazi flags, and pictures of prominent Nazi's in a place of honor. They really were perfectly comfortable in their civilian life's weren't they?

Fucking stupid unwritten rules, the government could have rolled in on these fuckers anytime if they didn't hold themselves back so severely. Phasing through the door he smiled in grim satisfaction, in a king sized bed lay his targets, Victor and Othala, nice and asleep.

He didn't waste any time, he floated ahead, a knife being pulled free by one hand while he pulled the gun out in his other hand. One last check to make sure he'd hit both targets at the same time, then he lunged, turning corporeal at the last second, his knife finding Othala's throat at the same time as his gun was placed at Victor's forehead and fired.



His body spasmed in agony as he laid over his victims, two powers at the same time being so much worse - oh, god why didn't I think that through! He thought in agony, fighting to keep conscious, he could not pass out here.

With great effort he pulled himself back from the edge, breathing heavily as he rolled off the bed, already he could hear the community coming alive as security responded to the gunshot. I should have used two knives… He thought with chagrin.

Slowly getting to his feet, his head absolutely pounding, he let loose the darkness, a thick rolling wave of it rolling out from the house, covering that part of the community in darkness, painting this as a hit by the independent villain Grue.

He didn't waste anymore time, even as he was in agony, he phased out the door, continuing through the house, the darkness obscuring his passage in case there was any security on the first floor - seconds later phasing through the backdoor and taking off through the yards, heading away from the house and towards the fencing.

He kept the darkness stable where it was in one large square, not wanting anyone to know he was moving until he was already out, staggering towards the fencing, the darkness just barely managing to last that far, letting the entire thing go as soon as he phased through.

Leaving no trace behind except two cooling bodies.

He kept his breaker state for another four blocks, going to the rooftops and moving away as fast as he was able, before he found himself a nice quiet rooftop outside Empire territory, and passed the fuck out, his head practically burning up.




6 am, 3 hours after the hit on Crescent Hill,

Jordan returned to the apartment he was keeping Sun Hee and her grandfather in, feeling like death, three powers in one 24 hour period was… A strain on him. He could feel it down to his bones. Everything hurt. He'd woken up still in as much pain as he'd been in when he'd passed out, but at least now he could move, and he'd made his way back, slowly.

But he'd succeeded in removing two very important pieces from the board. Victor no doubt allowed Kaiser to run his company without giving too much information to people outside his inner circle, the skill thief was no doubt able to do much of the work for Kaiser. His hacking abilities were likely their main information source on the PRT as well.

Othala being removed would make the Empire more vulnerable, less eager to toss themselves into full on war. And would make them suffer more if it came down to war. Their loss would make Kaiser less likely to be the one to start it anyways.

If Lung would give them a choice now that he'd likely be pissed off at the disrespect in his territory, he might rampage - which would egg the Nazi's on - Coil would probably get up to no good seeing the climate as it was too, pitting both gangs against each other for his own benefit. Jordan was almost positive a gang war would erupt, way sooner than canonically.

Exactly what he'd planned to avoid at first. But Othala and Victor were too juicy of a target now that it earned him an extra cape, the ability to save his sister way earlier than he'd planned, and the skills to build his support infrastructure through Victor's power.

Having Grue as a cover was worth more than his power, which was also very useful.

Sun Hee opened the door after he knocked, looking extremely relieved to see him. Jordan walked in, looking nonplussed as he saw some random dude on the floor, his ankles and wrists duck taped together.

Oh yeah… This was someone's actual apartment… He'd forgotten. "Good job." He told Sun Hee, hiding his embarrassment. The girl had obviously been able to handle it when the guy got home to find a teenage cape squatting in his apartment.

"Did… Did you get it, a healing power?" She asked hopefully, wringing her hands together, he noted how dirty they were, and that she'd taken apart the AC unit and the TV, Tinker? Or just nervous energy from a girl who was already mechanically inclined?

"Yeah, I have it, let's give it a shot." He said out loud, eyeing the man, already writing him off in his mind, just hearing the part about a healing power was enough to sentence him to death, he'd have to warn Sun Hee to not be so loose with information going forward.

He walked into the bedroom, the old man looking even worse, his rattling breath sounding like he was at death's door. Under Sun Hee's concerned gaze, he laid a hand on the old man's wrist, focusing on giving him regeneration, tapping into Othala's power.

It really was something, seeing skin knit together, a jaw and nose rearranging slowly to its proper alignment. He grimaced at the acrimonious smell as Sun Hee suddenly turned and vomited onto the floor - it wasn't a pretty sight to see everything come back together slowly like this.

After a few minutes however it was over. The old man looked exactly as he had the day Jordan had first met him. Sun Hee wiped her mouth as she stepped over slowly, watching his chest rise steadily, normally, her eyes filled with disbelief and joy.

She grabbed his hand with both of hers, swearing fervently, "I will do whatever you want!" Her eyes glanced back at her grandfather every few seconds. "Thank you so so so much!" She gushed.

Jordan smiled albeit a bit painfully as his head throbbed hard again, "Keep the apartment for now until I figure something out, I'll convince the guy to move out, I'll contact you soon."

He staggered away, Sun Hee giving him a worried look, before she sat down at the side of her grandfather, grasping his hand in hers.

Jordan didn't have time for any finesse, he was in too much pain, he simply took the guy with him, brought him to the roof, and slit his throat, burying him amongst the rubbish up there, he'd hold for a few days, plenty of time to move Sun Hee elsewhere.

Then he staggered home, he just needed to heal his sister, then he could sit down, let the pain fade away, just like the other times.

Although next time, he swore to himself, he would not do two powers at the same time if he could help it.

….

An hour later he screamed in frustration at his sister's bedside, no matter what he did he couldn't make the regeneration work, was the world conspiring against him!?

It was like it wasn't available, no matter what he tried he couldn't pull on that aspect of Othala's power, what the fuck was going on?





Once he was over his momentary depression at things not working out quite how he wanted them too, he had walked over to one of his neighbors, knocking on the door, and while acting like he just had some mechanical questions, he stole the man's mechanic skills. With Othala's power being defective, he needed to test Victor's.

Jordan had watched in amazement as the man's eyes grew confused as he suddenly - between one moment and the next - started stumbling over the advice he was giving, drawing a blank. Jordan quickly made his excuses, excited but also somewhat confused, because he didn't feel anymore mechanically inclined.

Maybe it would only show up if he tried to do something mechanic related?

He'd ended up knocking on Mai's door, waiting impatiently for her to let him in. Having to knock several times over several minutes, progressively louder each time. His headache was momentous, he still hurt all over, and he was pissed he'd failed at healing his sister, so he wasn't in the mood to wait.

"What do you want?" Mai asked peevishly, wearing only a towel, dripping water on the floor, her soaked hair plastered to her skin.

Jordan opened his mouth to ask her if she needed anything fixed so he could test out his hypothesis, when he felt a sudden jolt at the thought fix.

At the same time, Mai, ahead of him, almost dropped her towel as she put a hand to her head, wonderingly. Before her eyes widened in shock, "How do I know how to fix a car? I don't even know what a torque wrench is, but… I know what it is!?" Her wondrous and shocked face turned wroth, as she glared at Jordan.

"What did you do!?" She hissed accusingly.

I guess… Instead of gaining the skill I steal… I now give it away… A mix of Victor and Othala's power….

I wonder if it's permanent like Victor, or temporary like Othala… I guess killing two capes almost simultaneously had some effect on their powers…

Is that why regeneration didn't work on Jana? Because I'd already used it on the old man? Some sort of new expression on her power as well? I can give out a power only once but maybe it's permanent? Fuck! Also amazing, but fuck!

I should have done Jana first…


"Jordan!" Mai growled, one hand clenching into a fist.

Ah, I have some explaining to do. He thought with a wince. Remembering he still had to explain everything else.

This won't be pleasant…





Author's note:

So he basically hijacked both Victor and Othala's shards at the same time and they kind of bled over, already being somewhat close together.

With how quickly his plans get disrupted right after he makes them, no way Panacea lives until January…

Either way it will be time to start actually building something now that he's stirred the pot, while everyone focuses on each other for a bit.

And yeah, canon, what canon? Jordan is gonna disrupt anything and everything, even as he keeps telling himself he's just being careful and totally planning everything.

Cheers
 
Chapter 4: Stranger Danger!
Here's chapter 4: Stranger Danger!

There's been some confusion on Coil. When he split his timelines again to do paperwork in one of the timelines in his little interlude - he didn't reappear in PRTHQ for that, it just means one of his timelines is doing paperwork in his base now while he thinks about things in the other.

I'd gotten some reviews and PM's on it on different sites, so thought I'd clarify.

Now how many capes die in this chapter? Ten? Two? Zero? You'll have to read to find out!

This is Worm, so warnings for death, destruction, depressing and disgusting shit and Nazi language.

Standard disclaimer - Worm belongs to Wildbow, it is not mine, I am simply playing in the kiddie pool.





Jordan reluctantly sat down on the ratty brown couch in Mai's apartment as she went to get dressed. Wearing only a towel was not conducive to any serious discussion.

Here and there in the apartment there were tiny differences from his own, proof a girl lived here, just small aesthetic changes, and some candles to improve the smell from the moldy apartment building, but he took note anyway, because Jana would probably want something similar.

Not that he intended to still be in this shitty apartment building by then.

The mix of two powers had really thrown him for a loop, things hadn't been quite as instinctive as they had been for Shadow Stalker and Grue's powers, likely because his powers were new, instead of an exact copy - having somehow intertwined with each other.

Because he'd killed both of them simultaneously, not thinking ahead…

He groaned silently to himself, kicking himself for wasting regeneration of all things on the old man, what better power to make sure Jana could survive anything? He thought hard on the question and got the feeling back that if the old man died, he'd be able to hand out regeneration again.

He slumped in his seat, killing someone with constant regeneration was more trouble than it was worth when you also had to take in consideration that his granddaughter was a cape now. One sworn to him for saving his life, which at least would tie them neatly into his service. Which was something at least.

Mai walked out of her bedroom in a loose white Glory Girl merch shirt and a pair of panties, using a towel to rustle her still wet hair, an annoyed expression on her face.

Jordan grimaced slightly, looking away, "Could you please get dressed like… Actually dressed?" He asked. A girl fresh out of the shower with loose skimpy clothes, did not make for a good combination. Well… It did, but exactly the wrong combination right now. This wasn't much better than her in just a towel, if anything this was more revealing.

"Grow the fuck up, this is my apartment, I'll dress however I want." Mai said bluntly, not bothering to sit yet, as she came to stand before him, expression angry as she cocked her hip, one hand resting on it. "Mind explaining what the fuck, now?"

Jordan sighed, "I'm a cape." He admitted. He'd decided she deserved that much at least.

Also I can't exactly explain away her suddenly being a mechanic any other way…

Mai snorted, flicking some wet hair out of her face, "No shit. Tell me something I didn't know, what's that got to do about today?"

Jordan lost his ability to talk for a moment, just staring at his neighbor, "What do you mean you knew?" He almost squeaked out, quickly clearing his throat after, speaking gruffly, "I mean how did you know?"

Yeah, totally saved it…

Mai cocked an eyebrow, looking mightily unimpressed, "Seriously? You change literally everything about your habits and suddenly you're flush with cash, beginning to talk about healing your sister… What else would it be?"

Well… When you say it like that…

Jordan felt a little off kilter, he hadn't even suspected Mai would know, let alone that she'd apparently cottoned on immediately. "Great." He groaned, leaning back and resting his head on the backrest of the couch, "So if you know, how many else do? How fucked am I?"

Mai grinned scarily, the scars on the side of her face pulling taut, "You're always fucked, Jordan." She said, almost commiseratingly, "But no one here knows you or gives a shit, so they don't have a fucking clue."

Jordan let out a small relieved laugh, "So you're just smarter than everyone is what you're saying?" He said teasingly, a relieved smile on his face.

He liked Mai, even as he couldn't make himself fully - one hundred percent - trust her intentions. There was always the sense she'd sell anyone out if it was beneficial enough.

Hopefully his new powerful existence would get her to realize he could actually protect her, and she'd fall in fully with him. He trusted her more than anyone else in this crapsack world.

It wasn't exactly a high bar to achieve - everyone in Worm were pretty horrible people, barring a few rare exceptions.

Mai gave him a two finger salvo as she sat down on the edge of the table facing him, legs spread apart, Jordan averted his eyes, (really did this girl have absolutely no decency!?) "Didn't have to be smart, you're just that fucking dumb, now tell me why the hell I know how to be a mechanic now, and why the fuck you'd do that shit to me without my permission…" Her eyes flashed dangerously as she cracked her knuckles.

She was like a third of his size and not a killer like he was, and Jordan still flinched back slightly at the sight, "It was an accident, it's…" He floundered, trying to figure out how to explain it without revealing exactly how his power worked.

Not until she was at least on the same page as him on what it would mean to know.

Mai raised an unimpressed eyebrow, "Well?" She asked impatiently, crossing her arms. "I don't mind signing up for protection or whatever - but I need to know for fucking what…"

That came as a surprise to him, he'd had the feeling Mai would be dead set against joining a gang or really anyone else. Maybe she trusted him more than he'd imagined…

Jordan had a decision to make, how much did he trust Mai… He looked at her seriously, gaze clinical as he studied her. Mai met his stare, refusing to back down, tilting her chin challengingly. "If I tell you… You'll have to be mine…" He said, stepping out of the little game they usually had going between them, and stepping into the shoes of a supervillain who couldn't afford to take shit from a mouthy girl.

He hated thinking about it that way, but he couldn't take any chances on this, not even with what was really his only sort of friend, in the world.

No one that knew about his power could live, unless they were his loyal minions. Not yet, not while he was still weak, compared to some of the absolute monsters out there. Not when any half decent thinker could find him if given enough incentive to look for him.

Mai eyed him, looking jaded as she cracked a somewhat fragile smile. She rose up, beginning to pull her shirt off, "Fine, whatever, not the first time I had to suck cock to get ahead in life…"

"Whoa! Stop! Seriously, whoa!" Jordan waved his arms, "Jesus Christ, Mai! Not what I meant!" He blustered, looking away, keeping her in the corner of his eye to make sure she actually listened and stopped taking her clothes off.

What the fuck, Mai?

Mai lowered her shirt, fingers twitching, her teeth grinding together as she glared at him, "You said I had to be 'yours' to be let in on everything and get your protection…" She ground out, "If you didn't mean fucking, what did you mean?"

"You'd have to join my gang, that's all!" Jordan said, still not fully looking at her. He probably should have worded that better in hindsight, but he hadn't expected… That.

How does he keep forgetting her past?

He grimaced, looking away, He knew exactly why. Because it's so horrible I'd go kill them all if I think about it too much…

"... Then why didn't you just say so!" Mai yelled, gesturing rudely at him and pacing, running her other hand through her hair, muttering in Japanese to herself angrily.

Jordan had always wanted to learn Japanese, especially since meeting Mai, he was curious what she was always saying whenever he'd frustrate her. Also he admitted that it would be nice to kind of have something to share with a friend.

Suddenly he felt the odd feeling like someone cracked an egg over his head and it was just slithering into his brain. He blanched, he hadn't really noticed before, but he'd felt something similar earlier…

"...Jordan… Why can't I remember how to speak Japanese?" Mai asked slowly, turning his way, her eyes like burning embers from the fires of hell.

He knew now how Japan came up with the concept of Godzilla, they just took the idea of one of their women and said - let's make her taller and give her a tail… Everything else was a faithful reenactment.

Jordan winced, rubbing his head, feeling odd and also guilty, he certainly hadn't meant to do it - he needed to get to practicing with his new power and stop randomly pulling from people, "I don't really have a full handle of this one, yet, it's pretty new." He defended himself, concentrating on giving her the language back, seeing her scrunch her nose up, her eyes going glossy for a moment as the language suddenly slid right back in again.

Or so he assumed, because he suddenly couldn't speak fluent Japanese anymore. Although he perked up slightly as he realized he did feel like he understood some now, just by having held it for a little while.

That's… Good to know. Not as good as getting all the knowledge, but just holding it he could at least get a clue, it wasn't mastery but it was something. He was still a little annoyed at how Victor's and Othala's powers had changed on him, he definitely was never killing two capes at the same time again.

Othala's power becoming permanent - but only once for each - and Victor's only working for him temporarily as he had to give it away, was useful, but not what he'd expected, the synergy between the two managing to fuck him over just right, when it came to healing Jana.

"God that feels weird." Mai said, shuddering slightly, rubbing her arms where goosebumps had appeared. She immediately returned to glaring at him right after, pointing accusingly at him, "That's twice now! Stay out of my damn brain!" She cocked her head, looking at him suspiciously, "Hey… What did you mean with this power?"

Jordan sighed, well, he was going to explain it anyway now that Mai seemed onboard… Even if he wanted to forget exactly how willing she was to be onboard or to get the protection of a cape…

Guess it made sense… She was already doing a 'deal' for the apartment and helping him with his sister for some extra money and additional protection…

He just didn't like it. Didn't like that it was necessary for the young girl to be able to live on her own…

"It's like this…"



One explanation later and Mai was sitting next to him on the couch, legs pulled up to her chest, her face pensive.

"This is really dangerous." She said shortly, mulling it over, her eyes taking on a calculating glint.

Jordan grimaced, nodding slightly, keeping an eye on her out of the corner of his eyes. At least Mai would be able to offer a human perspective instead of his influenced one.

Mai ghosted her fingers across the scars on her face, looking thoughtful, "You killed two Empire capes, you killed a dozen of Lungs people in broad daylight, night, whatever…" There was a tone of vicious glee in her voice as she recounted his most recent escapades.

Jordan squirmed slightly, it sounded a lot worse when said like that.

Mai cocked her head, looking at him, still having that thoughtful look, "You need to bring that Korean girl here, you can't leave her in someone else's apartment forever." She said firmly. "If you want to ensure her loyalty sticks, you need to have her amongst us, not off on her own where she can begin to make her own opinions on things."

Jordan blinked, taken aback, "Are you sure, Mai? You're really independent, and having another girl here is going to be a big change…"

Mai gave him a dry look, "If I am to be your lieutenant, putting up one little bitch isn't that much of an imposition, Jordan." She waved a hand dismissively, "Besides, it's temporary, we'll have to find an actual secret location for all of this cape stuff."

Jordan nodded along slowly, his thoughts on the girl and her grandfather, he could probably put the grandfather in his apartment for now, he was used in taking care of a young girl, he could watch after Jana when no one else could, his regeneration meant he could take damage for her and flee with her if something happened… And with Jordan having saved his life and his granddaughter from slavery to be ABB - he was likely as loyal of a guard he could get for Jana.

He needed to find an actual lair at some point, but he'd just started out, he had some time. Mai would likely be better at that kind of thing anyway, she was resourceful and had a sharp mind, he kept forgetting she was younger than him because she certainly didn't act like it.

"Wait, who said you're my lieutenant, and not just a regular minion?" Jordan teased Mai, bumping into her shoulder lightly. Trying to show her things haven't changed too much just because of the new situation.

She scoffed, shoving him away, "You couldn't last two seconds without me, and you know it. Besides, you need a non-cape in charge of things, it's how things are done." She said matter of factly.

Jordan blinked at the surety in her words, "What do you mean?" He asked, curiously.

Mai gave him a pithy look, "You really think you capes are usually doing all the actual work? You dress up and do your circus acts and go in and out of jail, but people like me would run things for you. You'd make a decision, sure, but you're sure as hell not the one making it happen." She sounded pretty disparaging of capes, considering she had desperately clung on to him the minute he offered, "I learned things while in the ABB brothel… People liked to talk, to brag, in-between their fifteen seconds of pleasure…" She spoke of it in a detached way, like there were no emotions tied in with it.

Maybe that was just the only way she could think of it, devoid of emotion. His fists clenched as he once again pondered going after the people that had harmed her. He forced himself to think on what she'd said instead. Revenge would be Mai's choice.

He wouldn't take it from her. She'd already had too many things taken.

Jordan thought about what he'd just been told, and it made a lot of sense, normals would be less likely to be caught up in the usual PRT vs Villain conflicts, wouldn't they? The likes of Lung and Kaiser didn't exactly fight in the heart of their own operation, so their actually important minions were usually not at risk as collateral damage or at risk for arrest.

The minions actually running the normies weren't the ones running around out on the street bullying people after all - so likely not amongst those usually arrested.

It wouldn't surprise him if the people that did the deepest accounting and operational planning for different gangs - were completely divorced from gang life officially, with no obvious ties to them. Except Coil of course - who was a micromanaging douche bag.

Really he was guessing though, based on Mai's words. For all he knew Kaiser did everything himself too, although he seriously doubted Lung and Oni Lee did.

They really didn't strike him as the type to do a lot of paperwork. Lung seemed more like the type that would order something done, and then not care how it got done or by who - just that it got done or someone was getting charbroiled.

"You don't want any powers? I can give you one, and there are other ways…" He asked, not wanting someone he called a friend to be unprotected. Her not having any could be a boon, yes… But he'd feel honestly better if she could protect herself a little.

Mai looked at him dead serious, "No, if you give me a power, I'll fucking kill you. Don't." She said sharply, looking absolutely disgusted at even the idea of being a cape.

Jordan eyed her steadily, before nodding, he wouldn't force anything on her, and she was right anyway, having a competent lieutenant for all the logistics of running a gang - was just as important as having a cape, if not more important.

That said he now wondered even more why she so easily followed him if she hated capes?

Mai folded out her legs, poking him in the arm in a sharp stabbing motion, "Now, my first order as your lieutenant is to get that girl and her grandfather here…"

"I think you got the relationship between boss and lieutenant wrong." Jordan said bemusedly, even as he rose up, getting Sun Hee to move here temporarily only made sense, so he might as well.

"Hold on, I'm not done giving orders yet." Mai said, a small quirk to her lips showing that she was messing with him. "Also take this mechanic shit from me and give it back to whoever you took it from in this building." She said, looking more serious now.

Jordan looked at her, seeing her serious expression and taking in the definite order quality of that particular request, "I can take it back, sure… But any reason you want me to be a good neighbor and give it back - instead of giving it to one of my people?" He asked, somewhat reluctant to let a skill go like that.

Disregarding the fact I can't really say I have people yet…

Mai looked at him like he was an idiot - so not much changed from her everyday look, but he still felt like he was missing something. "What?" He asked defensively.

"Jordan… You killed Victor…" Mai said slowly, enunciating each word clearly.

Jordan nodded, a flash of inspiration hitting him with that clue being smacked into his face like that. He groaned, slapping himself in the face, "Victor is dead, so what will the PRT and the Empire do when some dude in my own Apartment building reports losing a lifetime of skill all of a sudden - after Victor's death…"

Mai clapped sarcastically, a smirk on her face as she leaned back on the couch, "So you can learn, if you're led straight to the source." She taunted, before growing sober, staring at him with a pensive look, "The sooner the better… You don't want him reporting it at all, let him believe he was drunk, that he simply was getting forgetful, or whatever excuse he'll make up…"

"I could just kill him." Jordan suggested, it was definitely something he'd need to think about for the future. Stealing skills before he killed someone, as the skill stealing wouldn't be reported then, couldn't be reported.

Mai closed her eyes, putting a hand to her forehead as she mumbled something in Japanese, Jordan managed to understand one word out of that. Idiot. Well… He now realized that word came up a lot in her Japanese ramblings…

Mai was so mean to him, he wasn't that stupid… He'd managed to get away with killing three capes! Four actually, because no one was chasing him down for Shadow Stalker.

Mai opened her eyes to glare at him tiredly, "You're not killing people in the same building you live. Are we understood!?" She said tightly, looking like she wanted to pick him up and shake him.

Jordan felt like an idiot, not something he enjoyed, specifically as it proved Mai right, "Yeah… I knew that." He muttered sheepishly, telling himself he really needed to not go to murder straight away as an answer to everything.

He wasn't this murdery before he killed Shadow Stalker - fucking shard bullshitery.

Mai slid off the couch, sighing loudly, "I'll check with some of the girls I still have surreptitious contact with, see if I can't find you some place more secure then a regular apartment." She waved him away, with a stern look, "Don't get caught, and don't do anything stupid. No killing anyone randomly!" She said seriously, pinning his gaze with a serious look.

Then she sighed, letting off a small honest smile, "And thanks, for not being as shit of a cape as everyone else in this hellhole." She muttered before turning away, walking into her bedroom.

Jordan wasn't sure what her issue with capes was other than the obvious problem with Lung, but he was thankful he'd have Mai onside as he built his gang, he didn't have anyone else in this world other than her and Jana.

He quietly slipped out of the apartment, having already taken her mechanic skill while she was walking away. He would give it back to the mechanic, and pay particular attention to how, because he didn't need to keep accidentally stealing things just by thinking on it.

Especially now that he'd need to keep any skill stealing pretty quiet or he'd be tracked down from the victims, not to mention the fact how suspicious it would be if Victor was killed and someone else immediately began using his powers.

It would reveal him, Mai was right, he'd been going around like a bull in a china shop, not thinking. Blaming things on Grue was one thing, but he couldn't be too obvious with the powers separate from that.

At least he could literally feel himself grow more confident in how they worked for every time he used them, the power mix up and new iterations of them - slowing down his instinctive learning as his shard/power learnt with him, but he felt it getting better.

Mai would be a good addition for keeping him on track and hopefully not letting his shard nonsense become too bad. Just knowing about it should help too.

Cauldron had Doctor Mother so someone wouldn't be thinking completely with shard brain, he'd have Mai…

At least his normie wasn't completely a bitch.





2 hours later,

Jordan arrived at the apartment that contained his new cape and her grandfather, having taken his time to get there, taking the pulse of the town as he walked over.

So far, there wasn't any sign of an erupting gang war - likely meaning Kaiser was still busy figuring out what happened and what his response would be.

It was the calm before the storm, Brockton Bay unaware of just how close the city was to war.

Thankfully Lung didn't seem to be rampaging, which probably meant Oni Lee was still looking for 'Grue' and possibly for the new trigger - if anyone survived to report, or spied it from a distance.

On the walk over he'd stolen a phone and made a throwaway PHO account to send Grue's real name to three cape accounts - destroying the phone after. He made sure he was never near a CCTV camera while he did all of it, in case Dragon would look for the person breaking the rules. He didn't give a shit about the unwritten rules anyway - and it was the best way to ensure people looked for Brian Laborn - not just any big black guy.

Because that didn't exactly absolve him from suspicions considering his looks, if anything it would make people look at him if he kept using 'Grue' as a red herring. Leaking Brian's name would hopefully solve that issue, as no one would suspect a power thief - as long as he kept the powers separate.

He'd sent the details to what was pretty openly known to be Alabaster's PHO account - thankfully not banned at the moment. Racists would be racists, especially online it seems.

And because Jordan wasn't Jack Slash level evil, he'd also sent the same information to Glory Girl from New Wave and Gallant from the Wards. Adding Aisha's information and warning them the Empire already knew and would be coming for her for revenge.

Not that he'd said what they were getting revenge for, only that they were after Grue's family. As he still didn't know if Kaiser would hide Victor and Othala's deaths as 'moving' to the old country or some bullshit to not appear weak - or if he would go on a crusade for their murdered comrades, blaring out to everyone that the Empire lost their healer.

Letting Aisha be kidnapped by the Empire to get 'Grue' back, without warning anyone at least, was a step above how much of a monster he was comfortable being. The teen capes were the kind who'd check PHO often and have notifications on - hopefully they'd take it seriously enough to get Aisha in protective custody in their own attempt to get 'Grue' to come in.

If they failed… Well Jordan had tried, and he wasn't going to lose too much sleep over the failures of the PRT in protecting Aisha. Everyday girls like her died in Brockton Bay, or worse.

If he was going to cry about it he'd never get anything else done. His goal was to protect Jana, not every kid in town. He made an effort to inform the heroes, it was up to them now.

Surely they'd rush over before the gangs did… Especially with how badly run the gangs were.

Honestly… He'd run a gang that wasn't nearly as criminally stupid as these ones anyway if given half a chance. Sex slavery, forced addiction, trafficking, basing yourself on racism and limiting your reach - all of it stupid.

Without a single sex slave, prostitution would still happen from women perfectly willing to do it, drug addicts would always be around looking for a fix, no need to forcibly grab people off the street and shoot them up and grab headlines. Not to mention killing off the people buying the drugs with shit products… Stupid and short-sighted. Trafficking, why? Again, easier and less attention grabbing to use people willing to do the job in the first place…

Besides… He could probably get a tinker power or something, or just Panacea's power - to make safer drugs that would still bring in money but not be harmful to its users. He needed more powers, more money, more influence - so he could eventually get powerful enough to leave this reality.

He knocked on the door to the apartment Sun Hee and her grandfather were squatting in, waiting several minutes before Sun Hee opened the door, his lips twitching at the petulant look on her face. Someone's been getting an earful it seems…

He noticed the grandfather immediately as he entered, nodding at the man who was standing by the kitchen nook. "We'll just have a small talk and then I have a safer space to take you both to, with a friend of mine who can look after Sun Hee."

"I can take care of myself, you know!" Sun Hee argued, somehow wearing some sort of metal band t-shirt in her size, as well as ripped jeans. He really doubted the man living here had clothes for a girl her size…

In the background a loud snort said exactly what her grandfather thought of her statement and she stomped a foot hard, glaring at him, to no effect.

Jordan had other priorities right now then their familial routine. "Where and how did you get those clothes?" He asked suspiciously, eyes sliding over towards the grandfather. Surely he didn't return home…

"I used my power to get some clothes, the ones I had were icky and I can't get home and get my own." Sun Hee admitted, looking guilty and stubborn at the same time.

"What is your power anyway?" Jordan asked, needing to figure out how useful she would be to him. "You didn't seem to have any issues taking down the guy that rented this apartment - despite the size difference…" Let's leave the - how did you get clothes aside for now, giving her crap right now, is not going to avail me anything.

Sun Hee frowned up at him, "Are you calling me short?" She asked, raising a tiny fist and shaking it at him threateningly.

"You're short, deal with it, what's your power?" Jordan asked bluntly, bulldozing over her attempt at deflecting, he knew newly triggered capes were sensitive about it, but the situation in Brockton Bay was only going to get more dangerous and he needed to know now, what her capabilities were.

Sun Hee looked at her grandfather, worrying her lip slightly, before she visibly deflated, looking away from him as she began to talk, "I was surprised and scared when that guy entered, I didn't even realize what I was doing… I… Disappeared into his shadow and I could control him, I… Made him disable himself as much as I could."

Master? That's useful… And fucking dangerous… "So you can control people…" He mused out loud, eyes intent on the tiny girl, "How difficult did it feel? How did the victim react?"

Sun Hee flinched slightly at the word victim, rubbing her arms self consciously. "When I left his shadow he was really confused and it was easy for me to finish taping him up, he didn't even remember anything, short term memory loss gramps called it after…"

This might be really stupid of me to ask, but I need to know… And she probably doesn't have the ruthlessness to take advantage… "Can you take control of my shadow right now?" Jordan asked her seriously, raising a comforting hand as Sun Hee shook her head wildly, eyes wide as her head snapped around to him. "Don't worry, I won't be mad either way, it's just a test, I trust you, Sun." No I don't, but it's a cheap thing to say, doesn't cost me anything…

Sun Hee looked at her grandfather who still stood practically motionless, arms crossed, by the entrance to the kitchen nook, face like it was carved out of granite. Seeing no help there, Sun Hee took a deep shaky breath, and then disappeared, her body dissolving into oily black shadows.



Jordan's mind snapped to attention as he suddenly tried to step forward, the motion failing as he was suddenly sitting at the edge of the bed in the bedroom, his half aborted motion was almost enough to send him stumbling forward. "Fucking hell? What happened?"

He glanced around, confused, why was he in the bedroom… He'd been talking to Sun Hee…

Motherfucker! He thought, not sure how he felt about this… She can master capes… Guess that's confirmed now.

He had no memory of what he'd been doing under her control, he didn't even remember being taken over, only their discussion beforehand giving him the idea that's what happened. Stranger/Master? That's a dangerous combo, shadow based because of my presence? Or… Fuck I wish I knew more about shard fuckery.

Sun Hee stuck her head through the doorway, a guilty expression on her face, "Hey… Uh, you all there? All good, nothing scrambled?" She asked, looking uncomfortable.

Jordan wanted to say something disparaging, not at all enjoying the idea of being close to a Master, even if one that was employed by him, but that was just the thing - employed by him. His. So he pasted a smile on his face, trying for the gentle expression he usually saved for his sister, "Hey, no need to feel bad, I asked you to do it, and you did well. You're a really powerful cape, Sun Hee."

Sun Hee squirmed slightly, her cheeks tinged pink, "Ah, thanks?" She questioned, before escaping back into the living area.

Jordan took a slow deep breath to help center himself, and then followed her out, the grandfather busy rooting through the cupboards for something, as Sun Hee nervously stood in the middle of the room.

"So it worked then? Any difficulties? Could you use my powers?" Jordan asked softly, trying to not make it too clear just how uncomfortable he was.

Sun Hee shook her head, looking dejected, "It was way harder, I could only hold you for a few minutes when with the other guy it felt like no problem at all." She admitted, "I freaked out a little at first and turned to shadow… So I think I can use your power if that's it, but since I don't know what they are, I had to guess how to use them."

So she doesn't get instinctive knowledge of how to use someone else's power…

Jordan took that information in, it was still a very useful power, even if any mastering of a cape seemed temporary and only really useful to stop a cape in its tracks - unless she was already intimately aware of what their power was and could turn them against their allies.

His lips twitched slightly at the idea of Miss Militia suddenly turning her gun on the other Protectorate heroes if they came after them - it wasn't a bad thought at all.

Sun Hee played with her hair, in what appeared to be a nervous tick, she's really not comfortable with powers is she? Or is it just too fresh, too close to her trigger event? Jordan wondered, his eyes narrowing slightly as her grandfather gave her a gesture like - get on with it - having found some coffee and in the middle of the process of brewing it.

"Well, is there something you want to tell me?" He asked, with a small smile on his face, "You don't have to worry Sun, no matter what I'll still take care of you guys, you're safe now."

Sun Hee seemed a little more at ease after that promise, some of the nervousness bleeding out of her posture, "Maybe it's easier if I show you…" She said, glancing to a corner, then she was gone.

Jordan blinked, eyeing the old man making coffee in the small kitchen nook, "What's going on?" He asked suspiciously.

Why was I here again? I already healed the old man… Why did I do that again?

As he looked around the apartment, keeping an eye on the expressionless old man as he poured himself a coffee, he reared back in shock, automatically going into his breaker state as the shadow under the table stretched out, materializing into…

Sun Hee!

Suddenly everything came back to him. This was… Like Imp, in a way. She moved into one of the shadows in the room instead of a person - and disappeared from all senses, even memory. Was this really a coincidence? He had shadow powers and darkness powers when he ran into them… Grue… Was Imp's big brother, the one she likely budded from. But he hadn't been around Sun Hee enough for that to happen.

Hell, he'd only had Grue's power for an incredibly short time when Sun Hee triggered thinking she'd seen her grandfather murdered in front of her and that she was about to be dragged off as a sex slave.

Was his presence enough to affect her power that much? He knew, or at least thought he knew, that powers took some insight from those around during a trigger event, but he wasn't sure.

"That's… Incredibly versatile…" Jordan said, some small part of him telling him to kill both of them right now. He'd get his regeneration back for his sister and more ambush powers from Sun Hee, added to her master powers as well - her power was just dangerous.

"I feel like I can move to any shadow I can see, and hide within it, I did it automatically after I was dumped out of your shadow earlier, because I just felt so bad and wanted to hide." She muttered, with a grim countenance, looking at her grandfather. "Gramps told me he couldn't even remember me while I was gone…" She shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself, "I really don't like that."

The old man grunted, and spoke up for the first time since Jordan entered the apartment. "Little Sun, too much of girl, need to be happy, it's good power, stay safe." He said, nodding stiffly at Jordan, "You'll keep Sun safe." He demanded stiffly.

Sun Hee looked mortally offended to be called too much of a girl - but kept her mouth shut even as she glared at her grandfather.

Jordan nodded thoughtfully, pushing down the urge to kill them and harvest their powers. "Yes I will. She'll need my help, that's a very dangerous combo that would have lots of people looking to harm her or recruit her to unsavory ends." He thought over what she could do so far, and almost couldn't believe it, because she'd be so very dangerous, albeit not a full frontal kind of cape - she was the more dangerous type, one perfectly suited for Jordan's purposes in crafting a gang.

"So… Is my power really good?" Sun Hee asked, seemingly taking some comfort in at least having a good power, visibly perking up. She looked a lot more like the girl he'd met before, then the nervous one she'd been so far today.

"You're a Master/Stranger… With a little bit of Mover in there as well because of your line of sight teleportation to shadows…" Jordan explained slowly, "Yes you're very good, and very dangerous. Don't let anyone know what you can do."

Sun Hee saluted him smartly, a big smile on her face. "Yes boss!" The hesitant look in her eyes betrayed her; however - she was definitely still uncomfortable. "Umm, I don't know what any of that means exactly…"

Understandable, her whole life had been turned upside down, she'd triggered, the ABB would be looking for her, and she had to count on an absolute stranger. Honestly this could be going a lot worse right now… Like me being murdered by a Stranger worse. So all in all, Jordan had to take all of this as pretty much as big of a win as he was going to get. "I'll tell you later." He promised, absentmindedly, lost in his thoughts.

A from the looks of it - sane and obedient, Master/Stranger/Mover under his control. It was just beyond anything he could have hoped for, he'd honestly expected a tinker from how she helped maintain her grandfather's shop.

Shardfuckery or shardscience or whatever, he didn't care, not really. It happened, how it happened didn't matter now, he'd just have to go with it.

And he'd definitely need to keep them loyal, because the only way to stop her would be to be in an area completely devoid of any darkness or shadows… Possible, yes, but not easy, and certainly not something he'd want to keep up constantly.

Although maybe Grue's power… A thought for later, it might do the trick, or give her even more to work with.

As her loyalty began with her grandfather, the man he'd already saved and ensured wouldn't die soon, he had a good beginning… But perhaps he needed to begin making inroads there too.

Jordan turned to the old man, scratching his chin a bit self consciously, because it was a little embarrassing to have to ask at this point, "Anyway, since we're going to be a team from now on, what's your name, I kind of haven't asked before…"

It would probably be rude to say - because I thought you were going to die anyway, so what was the point?

Sun Hee gave him the - are you stupid? - look, typical of teenagers everywhere, stating authoritatively, "He's gramps!' nodding decisively twice, like that settled things.

Jordan pinched the bridge of his nose, even as the old man began chuckling quietly. "I can not call one of my minions, gramps, Sun Hee… You do know he has an actual name, right?" Jordan asked to double check, because this girl…

Sun Hee chuckled awkwardly, looking away, her cheeks reddening, "Of course I do…" She muttered, refusing to look at them.

This kid…

"What is his name?" Jordan asked dryly. Putting her on the spot. How this kid was apparently a gunsmith and helping run a business, baffled him.

Sun Hee squawked in protest, waving her hands in front of her frantically, "Hey, you're the one wanting to know, why are you asking me!? Gramps is gramps!" She floundered for a moment before triumphantly declaring, "Yoon his name is Yoon, just like me!"

"That's his last name, what's his first name, or have you just been calling him gramps since you were born?" Jordan asked, tone getting even dryer.

Sun Hee crossed her arms stubbornly, her jaw jutting out challengingly, "I already said his name."

The old man just looked at her and sighed loudly, Sun Hee attempting to whistle nonchalantly, badly, at his chiding look. "Ridiculous child." He grumbled, before turning to Jordan, bowing his head, "Han Yoon." He said stoically, introducing himself.

Jordan nodded amicably, "Welcome to the team Han," Shaking his head slowly afterwards, a miniscule smile on his face, as he didn't want to come off as too teasing since they barely knew each other. "You must have had quite the handful with this one," He said, nodding at Sun Hee who was watching them grumpily. "She's what? Fifteen?"

She reminded him a lot of Jana personality wise, and considering Jana's age… He felt he was overshooting it with fifteen, but she didn't look younger than that.

Sun Hee practically exploded at his comment, shooting forward, grasping Jordan by the shirt, crumpling up the fabric with her hands as she shouted up at him, face fully red, "I'm twenty one, you jerk!"

Jordan stared down at her, taking in the cherubic cheeks, the short stature, the (no offense) flat and boyish figure… He glanced at Han, "Seriously?" He asked, letting out a tiny oof as Sun Hee hammered his torso with tiny fists, cheeks puffed up adorably like a chipmunk as she vented her rage at him.

Not really selling the actual drinking age level adult there girl, Jordan thought exasperatedly.

Han nodded solemnly, taking in the scene with the eyes of a man who's seen it all before, "Twenty one years." He confirmed, before his lips quirked just the tiniest bit at the corner of his mouth, "Feel double that, sometimes."

Sun Hee stopped hammering away at Jordan, gaping at her grandfather, "Gramps! You can't team up against me!"

Han stared at her and in complete deadpan said, "What you say, Sun? Deafness bad lately." Even raising a hand to his ear.

"You literally can't be deaf, you regenerate now you lying liar!" Sun Hee screeched, launching herself at her grandfather.

Jordan felt like he needed an anime style sweatdrop right now.

Twenty one my ass… He thought. Birth records or I'm not buying it!

It felt like he'd just brought a circus act of some sort into his service.

He looked at Sun Hee and tried to picture her and Mai in the same room.

Oh… Boy….

This will be interesting…





Jordan entered Mai's apartment again, Sun Hee trailing behind him, Han safely ensconced in Jordans apartment, boiling a kettle of tea to settle himself while he watched Jana.

He stopped in his tracks, Sun Hee letting out a quiet oof, as she walked into his back.

"Mai… What? How? I've only been gone for three hours!?" Jordan asked, seeing the pile of paper and files on her coffee table, the amount comparable to the size of a cooler. To add to that there were a multitude of different papers pinned to the wall, strings attached to the pins leading to each other in a convoluted mess that must mean something to Mai.

More importantly, it all spelled out how to organize and run a crime family or organization from what he could tell by a quick glance. What the hell, Mai?

Mai scoffed as she flipped through the giant pile in front of her, scribbling something on a notebook as she did. "I was inside a criminal organization with nothing to do between johns, so I put my mind to thinking how I'd run it better, so don't flatter yourself, Jordan." She eyed him seriously, pointing her pen at him, "I had this all written up before I even met you."

Someday I really need to ask more questions about your time with the ABB… Jordan thought, thinking it was becoming a little bit too convenient of an excuse.

"She's scary." Sun Hee whispered behind his back, peeking around him, just to make an eep sound, and duck back again as Mai's gaze switched to the Korean girl.

She isn't telling me anything I don't already know… Mai is definitely scary, who the hell else would think up an entire fake criminal organization as a thought project? Jordan thought, even as he had to admit she was certainly proving her chops as a lieutenant.

"Yes I am." Mai said with a proud little smirk, "So don't even think of trying to fuck us over - you're with us now girl, there's no leaving, there's no lying, there's no hiding."

Sun Hee didn't seem to enjoy that at all, Jordan could feel her tensing up behind him.



Jordan blinked momentarily, forgetting what they were talking about, looking over at Mai, "Uh, what we're we talking about?"

Mai looked confused for a moment as well, before she looked down at her notes, her lips thinning, "Sun Hee is a Stranger that can hide in shadows and make us forget her… I'm not sure why I wrote this down…" She grimaced, "Cape bullshit!" She said with disgust, looking around suspiciously, "Show yourself Stranger!" She ordered snappishly.

Jordan stiffened at the warning of a Stranger being in the apartment, darkness wafting of his form as he eyed his surroundings warily. "Mai… Don't panic." He warned, before flooding the apartment with darkness.

There was a loud yelp, and Jordans memories returned to him, he pulled back the darkness, glaring at the pouting Sun Hee, who was splayed haphazardly across the floor. "That was not a wise idea, not with allies." He said harshly.

Mai had snapped the pen she was holding in half, eyes flashing with irritation as she glared down at Sun Hee, "At least we know your power dumps her out, I'm glad you called ahead and warned me of the Stranger ability. A note or any kind of physical information does not disappear as I thought, so we now have two ways to know about her if she decides to be childish again."

Jordan crossed his arms, unimpressed with Sun Hee immediately jumping into her Stranger ability at the slightest hint of pressure. "Sun Hee I understand this is all new, but you can't do that to allies over something as minor as someone glaring at you or irritating you." At least Grues darkness power somehow interferes with hers, good to know, perhaps it will work for her master power as well - I'll test it another time, Mai will lose it if I do that here and now.

"I'm not childish!" Sun Hee declared haughtily, scrambling up from her prone position, trying to play it off like she totally meant to be on the floor, "I just… It's almost instinctual, I felt uncomfortable and I disappeared into a shadow."

Mai pursed her lips, discarding the broken pen, "That's… Plausible." She admitted, trying to soften her expression but with the scars it didn't really work that well, "You'll need to train to where it's only instinctive towards actual danger or discovery." She mused out loud, giving Sun Hee a long look that took her in from head to toe, dragging a notebook towards herself, "Come sit, we'll draw up a plan for how to test your powers, tell me everything you know." For good effort, she patted the couch cushions next to her.

Sun Hee gave Jordan a pleading look, still obviously unsure about the younger, scarred girl that was ordering her around.

Jordan eyed Mai, thinking it over. Picturing himself trying to train Sun Hee while constantly losing memory of her existing - or Mai doing it. "Sit with Mai, consider her your boss." He said, happily pushing the Korean girl towards his friend.

Mai seemed to have things well in hand, so she could explain things and draw a plan for the new girl, while he… He looked at all the papers and files with a long face... Had homework to do.






Medhall corporation, secret basement sub-level.

Max Anders looked at the message from Alabaster, frowning. It was all a little too neatly done, for his taste.

They'd barely had time to ascertain that this independent nigger Grue, had been behind the Empire's recent loss - and they get his identity and family revealed to them?

It stank of a trap.

He'd already lost Victor and Othala, the loss heavier than any other two capes under him combined. They had versatility, not something that could be said for most of his underlings. And without Othala's regeneration, it would limit their clashes with the ABB due to recuperation times.

Could he afford to risk anyone else in this obvious trap?

His fist clenched as he crushed the phone in a gauntleted fist, he could not afford to leave it alone, even more…

"Krieg, send Hookwolf and his coterie to deal with this upstarts family." He ordered tersely. Hookwolf at least was hard to put down no matter if it was a trap or not.

"Full treatment or anything special?" Krieg responded immediately. The man undaunted with their loss, already he was pushing Gesellschaft reinforcements - like Max could not see the strings all over such an offer…

Max eyed him, thinking over what would work best to make a point to Grue, without letting the whole world know of their predicament. "Have him make an example out of the father, then… Bring the girl back, I'm sure the men can make a convincing argument for her to reveal everything she knows."

They'd let Grue know they had the girl of course… Eventually. Force the cape to meet them at their terms so they could deal with him. Perhaps seeing his broken and used sister would make easy work of him - those of his kind were weak willed anyway to begin with.

"Make sure he takes Cricket and Stormtiger. I don't want any failures in this endeavor, Krieg." He ordered clippedly, turning away from his subordinate, mind turning to ways to lure or conscript a healer to their side.

Without Gesellschaft involvement.



Dallon household,

"Holy shit!"

"What is it, Vicky?" Amy asked without any inflection, barely paying attention to the TV or her surroundings as she just… Sat there.

The last few days had just been a bit… Much. Carol in one of her moods.

"The Empire is breaking the unwritten rules if this tip I got is true! Going after a villain's kid sister!" Victoria Dallon, aka Glory Girl, said in astonishment and visible anger - as she floated above the couch, fingers typing frantically on her phone.

Amy frowned, wouldn't be the first time… She thought uncharitably, "So it's a villain, who cares?" She couldn't muster the emotion to worry about some villain and his family, they made their choice.

"Ames, it's his kid sister, she's like 13, and black, and it's the Empire!" Vicky admonished her, putting her phone away, a stubborn look on her face.

Amy felt kind of bad now, knowing it was just some little brat, but she also knew that look on her sister's face, "You're going, aren't you?" She sighed.

"Yeah, I have to, I already texted Dean, he got the same message too, he says they're sending Assault and Battery." Vicky said, giving Amy an apologetic look, "Sorry to cut hanging out short Ames, but I really need to make sure this kid is safe."

And punch Nazis, no doubt, Amy thought, dully. Before she could do more than open her mouth to respond, Vicky had already flown off to change into her uniform.

Amy sighed, not sure why she'd expected different. The one night she could spend time alone with her sister without Dean or heroing or her parents getting in the way - and this happens.

At least Vicky will be in a good mood when she gets back. She tried to think optimistically.

Punching Nazis always made her happy.

She sighed again, slumping into the couch, unseeing eyes barely registering the show she wasn't watching. I wish I could punch some Nazis, she thought, feeling a bit of aggravation at the fact she couldn't help Vicky.

Couldn't be by her side…



Coil's base,

Coil narrowed his eyes in thought, somewhat lambasting himself for not securing the girl before this.

But then in any kind of scenario he'd pictured going forward - he'd never expected Grue to go off the reservation like he had.

Had the Empire provoked him somehow? But then why hit the ABB?

Both the ABB and the Empire going from a cold war footing to a hot one was too early. He didn't have everything set up to take full advantage.

He'd still make do, but it was frustrating to have his plans disrupted to such an extent by a small time independent, especially one he'd already scouted out and had been confident on how he worked. Either his information was faulty, or something truly strange had happened to Brian Laborn.

He pondered the problem, there wasn't really any way for him to get a clean victory here. He was too caught off guard by Grues uncharacteristic actions, his power not as useful after everyone has already begun moving.

Not to say he couldn't get something out of this, he always could, but he was unused to being caught off guard to this extent.

Aisha Laborn would not be taken by his mercenaries, it was too late for that - so the solution was to let the PRT have her, so he could get her in his grasp later.

He split the timeline, in one, he sent his mercenaries to intercept the Empire, creating an incident that seemingly consisted of two rivals running into each other and getting into a scuffle - nothing anyone would look twice at.

Creating a timeline where the PRT have no contestants for Aisha Laborn, seeing how they react to that, what kind of protection they put in place.

In the other timeline, he alerted one of his moles in the ABB of the situation, that the cape that humiliated them as well as his family - were being pursued by the Empire and that the ABB would lose out to their rival.

He sat back, pleasantly surprised when not only Oni Lee, but Lung himself set out to ensure they got their own pound of flesh. They were closer to the apartment building, so the Empire's lead wouldn't mean much.

Either the Empire would be slowed down by his people in one timeline - or they would be caught in a fight with Lung that might whittle down the cape population in Brockton Bay further in the other. Either way there should be no issues in acquiring Aisha Laborn for himself after the PRT sequestered her away.

Coil followed both timelines with rapt attention, while he continued on his plan to capture Grue. He'd see which timeline presented the best avenue forward for his own possession of the girl. It would also be useful to get a better picture of both Lungs and Hookwolf's capabilities, even if he'd likely not keep that timeline.

He'd have to find someone else for the Undersiders obviously, Grue was too hot for that job now.

But once he had Aisha… He could use Grue as an independent agent, one that the gangs hated, one that he could use as a simple tool, until he had no use anymore.

What would Kaiser give me? Or Lung? If I deliver them Grue, once I have finished with him? He thought, already seeing it as a foregone conclusion that he'd acquire Grue.

He'd already done his research on Brian Laborn.

He would not abandon his sister. Especially not if Coil provided incentive.

Even when he was put on the backfoot by people behaving illogically, everything would still turn out how he wanted it to, he thought smugly.

He smirked slightly under his mask, as in one timeline, Hookwolf and Lung clashed, while in the other, his men were delaying the Empire with hit and run tactics.

In either one, the PRT and Glory Girl for some reason - was spiriting the girl and her father away for him.

With my power… I always win!





3 am, Cedar Pines long term care home.

Jordan slipped through the hallways in his breaker state, having entered the building by phasing through the door, and continuing likewise for any patient rooms he'd needed to access.

Telling Mai everything might have been the best choice he ever made. After a single day of thinking on it, she'd immediately found a way for him to steal some skills surreptitiously. Even if he only had three minions right now, there were plenty of skills that could make them more effective - and he'd already shown he could keep several skills - in transit - so to speak, in his head, before he passed them on. He'd tested it out with Mai and Sun Hee before giving the stolen skills back.

He now had a slightly better idea of Japanese, and could understand a few Korean words from Sun Hee.

… Was he making an Asian gang? That… Wouldn't be taken well by Lung.

As annoyed as Mai was at him poking her brain again. She saw too many benefits in testing things out to complain too harshly. And had immediately sent him out for more skills once she'd explained what she'd found out.

So here he was, at one of the four long term care homes in Brockton Bay. He was honestly surprised there were even that amount. With 350 000 people give or take some, he'd somehow expected that people just died in Brockton - before getting old enough to end up at this kind of place. Or at least in enough numbers that they wouldn't need four homes with hundreds of people in each.

Maybe he just had unreasonable expectations, civilians died all the time in Brockton Bay canon, but that had been in the fast paced disaster that was canon - and they weren't there yet.

People still died due to the gangs, drugs, illnesses and everything, of course, but not to the extent later events would achieve.

Having mostly seen the poorer parts in Worm canon - he'd never put much thought in the richer being able to afford homes like this to store their old and comatose.

Mai had researched everything for him. There were quite a lot of coma patients spread around the long term care homes - as the hospitals did not have enough room for them. Even with Panacea working, there were too many sick and injured always taking up space in the hospitals, due to the general poverty and crime infested state of a lot of Brockton Bay.

Panacea couldn't clear out every sick person in Brockton Bay, or every injured one - not even close. And with her stance on brains, lots of comatose people got stored away.

It was like a smorgasbord for him, he had to force himself to follow Mai's instructions, only taking skills from a few of the old folks that could still move, letting their age and general forgetfulness cover for their loss of skills. There was nothing wrong with old folks losing memories after all. Now if he did the entire home that would be noticeable. Which Mai had told him numerous times, very sternly, while glaring at him.

It was like she didn't trust him to hold back. At least with the comatose people he didn't need to hold back at all, even if they woke up at some point later, it wouldn't be that much of a stretch that they'd forgotten things.

Jordan phased through another door, finding a room with another comatose patient. By now he'd done enough of this he didn't accidentally set off his power anymore, and he reached out and poked the man with Victor's power, getting a feel for the skills the man had accumulated during a lifetime.

A doctor huh? Well it wouldn't hurt to give Han some knowledge in medicine, give us all a trustworthy doctor. I'll have to track down a surgeon and pediatrician as well, Jordan thought as he stole the man's hard earned medical skills.

Disappearing into the night again without anyone aware.

He had three more homes to hit, and with any luck…

He'd even manage to convince Mai to accept some of the more useful skills.

She couldn't be entirely against cape powers, she fell in with him easily enough.

Maybe she'd just had no interest in being a mechanic?

Surely programming or martial arts or something would entice her?

Maybe he could find a psychologist and give the power to Sun Hee or Han and have them talk to Mai for him.

He imagined that briefly, and discarded it just as quickly, it just wouldn't work. Mai wouldn't talk to someone she didn't trust.

I'll find some way of ensuring Mai takes a skill or two from me…

He'd feel better about it all if she owed him one.





Author's note:

So Sun Hee's powers are revealed, Jordan had to pivot from want to want as a minion. Because he can't do everything himself and such a useful minion can't be discarded for his own power up when he has so many enemies he can take down.

He didn't kill anyone in this chapter - so progress. Depending on your point of view anyway, I'm sure several of you want him to hurry up and kill lots more capes.

Mai is one of those people whose mind is never still. The kind that totally has plans for world domination drawn up and hidden in her underwear drawer - for just in case.

She'd make for a scary cape. But she didn't trigger even with some pretty horrible things happening - so she won't be one through normal means.

If anyone has suggestions for cape names for Sun Hee or even Jordan - I haven't decided on either yet so feel free.

HammerTime is already up on Patron, will likely drop on Saturday for everyone as seems to be usual lately.

Cheers
 
Chapter 5: Trauma is the name of the game.
Here's chapter 5: Trauma is the name of the game.

Who gets killed in this chapter? Place your bets!

This was a winner on Patron together with HammerTime, so early update it is, some more fleshing out of our lovable criminals.

Gotten some complaint on why oh why isn't he a stark raving murderhobo yet - despite him obviously killing people already.

Folks, this isn't a slaughterhouse nine fic, and he is quite frankly already killing people and doing bad things constantly…

Warning: brief mentions of the kind of things the ABB does/have done to women. Nothing is graphically described.

This is Worm, so warnings for death, destruction, depressing and disgusting shit and Nazi language.

Standard disclaimer - Worm belongs to Wildbow, it is not mine, I am simply playing in the kiddie pool.




Jordan sat next to his sister's bed, just softly running his fingers through her long hair. Jana had always wanted long hair, but had been too much of a wild child to be able to manage it…

Never one to sit still, and always one to somehow manage to finagle getting gum, glue, glitter - and that one time - Marinara - into her hair, it made long hair something of an impossibility for her.

Jana certainly wasn't going to clean up her hair when she had her big brother to throw puppy dog eyes at to do the task.

Only good thing out of all of this… She'll get her wish when she wakes up, he thought sadly. Long hair was hardly enough to make up for failing to keep her safe, for failing to save her, but it was a minimal start.

And he'd ensure it was always pristine, so she could finally achieve some of her dream of being a Disney princess.

Hopefully invulnerability would help her feel like it as well one day. And more importantly it would keep her safe.

He looked down at her peaceful face, heart aching, wondering how on earth Panacea could look into a face like this and decide it wasn't worth it.

He'd move mountains and drown continents for her… He just needed the time… Time enough to make sure she made it through.

"I'm sorry, Jana." He muttered, leading down and kissing her forehead gently, your brother is not a very good person… I'm sorry…

The urge to go after Panacea right away was incredibly hard to wrangle down, something in him just crying out for an immediate solution. To save Jana, right now, this minute, no more delays.

If this world was even the slightest bit more manageable, he'd do it. Kill Panacea, save his sister, and then get caught and birdcaged, safe in the knowledge his sister would at least have a life now. He'd gladly toss his life away if it meant she lived a happy safe existence.

She'd miss him, but she'd live.

But Earth Bet was a hellish world, he couldn't leave Jana alone, without protection, he couldn't heal her too soon, too many god damn couldn'ts all around….

Perhaps it had been fortituos that he'd failed at giving her regeneration, his heart deciding something his head said was too dangerous in that moment.

Healing her while he had no defenses, no set up to keep her safe… What had he been thinking?

He knew exactly what he'd been thinking, he'd been looking at her face, and thinking he'd get to see her smile again.

If only he knew someone that was the fabled fanon blindspot, someone to blind thinkers and Contessa and all of them, then he could just kill Panacea and run off in the night, none the wiser. Without the threat of the entirety of the PRT coming down on his head before he was ready.

The only ones he knew about, were very very dangerous capes he couldn't risk going after anyway, mooting the point. Killing someone like Eidolon wasn't exactly an easy task, not to mention how much he didn't want the Simurgh to decide she needed to protect the High Priest by preemptively taking care of Jordan.

So no. No thoughts on killing Eidolon.

Softly he began to sing, his voice was hardly good enough for it, but his sister had always loved it anyway.

Something about her big badass brother singing Disney princesses songs had tickled her absolutely pink, and she could never get enough of it.

He could perhaps kill Uber and gain an elite skill in singing for her, but he had a feeling that half the point of his ridiculous renditions of the songs was just how bad he was at it.

Jordan knew that if she was upset, or sad, all he had to do was sing horribly, and she'd have the biggest smile on her face within minutes. It never failed.

Hero, she'd always called him… Her own personal hero…

Hah, look at me now… Hero…

He stroked her hair as he continued to sing, trying his hardest to not sound melancholy as he sang the ridiculously disneyfied songs.

I'm no hero… But I'll save you, I promise.

Please forgive me…




Jordan exited the room, wiping his expression off his face as he came face to face with Han. He couldn't be seen as weak in front of the minions.

"She likes the scent of jasmine, I have a few candles specifically for that in the top left drawer, to make her feel at home. She likes classical music when it's closer to nighttime, but pop music and Disney when it's earlier in the day, don't let her hair get tangled, she loves her hair, I…" Jordan let out a shuddering breath, his face hardening as a counterbalance to his rambling and obvious show of weakness, "Call me immediately if there's something you're unsure of, Mai will be in to ensure she's washed and her other needs are met, just… Keep her entertained, keep her safe."

He closed his eyes, feeling a headache coming on, as it always did after he cried. He'd wiped away the evidence of course - this wasn't a Disney story, tears or a kiss wouldn't wake the princess, it just showed how much he'd failed, that all he could do was hold her and cry. "She… She likes to be read to, anything will do, I have a few books… If you want… It's fine if you're slow."

Han didn't say anything, nodding slowly, a sympathetic look on his usually inscrutable wrinkly face.

He'd gotten something similar already the other three times Jordan had spoken to him about this, and the old man had been much more sympathetic to him after finding out exactly why Jordan was in a life of crime.

Jordan hesitated, trying to remember anything else, anything to make Jana more comfortable, but the only things that came to mind were things that were special, things that were between the two of them, "Just… I'll always be reachable by phone." He finished lamely, hurrying out of the apartment. Feeling guilty for leaving Jana with what was basically a stranger.

But it was another cross for him to bear, abandoning her, so that he could grow strong enough to protect her, to bring her back.

He needed Mai was what it came down to, needed her to work for him, to plan and coordinate - and she couldn't spend all day watching over his sister for that to work - it would be enough that she would be over to help with her hygiene needs every so often.

Han was likely as loyal as a person he could get outside Mai, and held no real use for him for gang related activities, so for him to be a caretaker of Jana going forward, it just made sense.

It still made him itch, gave him this feeling of wrongness in him, that he was not doing enough for his sister, that he was failing her everyday.

Because he was.

He had excuses for why, and they were even valid, he thought.

But it didn't make it any less of a failure.

He took a deep breath, centering himself, not wanting to enter Mai's apartment in obvious distress.

Him beating himself up didn't do anything, didn't help. He needed to be better…

For too long he'd depended completely on Mai, because without her assistance, he'd be stuck sitting at his sister's bedside watching her die, unable to go out and get what she needed as that would mean leaving her on her own for hours and maybe days on end, depending on how things went.

He didn't even want to imagine what would have happened had he gotten himself killed without anyone to look after Jana, even if only to dump her off with the authorities to be looked after.

It had made their relationship one that swayed heavily towards Mai, because Jordan needed her more than he needed air.

Now… He needed to get out of that mentality, he needed to be the boss, he needed to be the one with power. Because no gang would respect a boss who was led around the nose by their unpowered minion.

He still owed Mai everything, but he couldn't continue on the same track as before, appeasing her and fearing a sudden reversal of her willingness to assist him. Now, she was the one to live and die at his sufferance, not that he'd kill her, but the power balance in the relationship had changed irrevocably, and he needed to act like it.

He pushed the door open, after having forcibly calmed himself down, entering to a whirlwind of action, as Sun Hee ran around setting up flow charts and putting pins in a wall sized map of the city, all directed by sharp orders from Mai, who was studying a whiteboard intently.

Where did she even get a wall sized map of the town? Jordan wondered. Her unusual competence would be something they would have to discuss eventually.

It was too weird.

Both of the women greeted him, calling out, "Boss." One cheerfully, and one with a dry almost sarcastic voice, no hints as to which was which…

Jordan had given Mai a list of every hero and villain in Brockton Bay that he could remember, and their powers, and that's what was listed on the whiteboard as he approached.

In order of who Mai thought would be most useful to kill, all labeled and sorted and even color coordinated.

He never knew murder could look so… Nerdy. Not that he'd voice that thought.

Jordan did a double take as he noted some of the names, "I'm not killing Vista, Mai!" He objected, slightly horrified at the idea, Shadow Stalker had been bad enough, as horrible a person as she was, she'd still been what? 15? Something he still felt guilty for.

Even if she was an absolutely horrible person that certainly deserved something bad to happen, but he wasn't sure death was it.

Vista was even younger. No, it wasn't happening, just nope! He stepped up, grabbing a marker, crossing Vista's name off the list, noting how highly placed it was, quickly crossing over another name, then another. "No, we're not killing Aegis or Clockblocker either, what the hell, Mai? Are you trying to get me a kill order? We're not killing the Wards!"

No matter how useful their powers are… He thought, eyeing the board, easily admitting that if they were talking about adults, or at least those around his own age… He'd go after them. Aegis was around there, and once he went Protectorate, maybe. But Vista and Clockblocker, no.

Immediately his mind went to Aegis' death against Leviathan, and how he could maybe get the killshot before that happened, not wasting his power - since he would die anyway.

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. Fuck that, I'm not going to keep Jana in the same city as a known Endbringer attack, we'll be gone before then! And no killing Wards… Again.

Mai sighed, grabbing an eraser and removing the three names, "Fine, but realize once you're out, you're going to get a kill order no matter what, so whether Wards are dying or not - it won't make much of a difference."

Sun Hee interjected, having finished her latest task of stapling several papers filled with addresses onto a clear patch of wall, "But we'll look really bad as a gang if we're killing kids, right? I mean not even the Empire 88 does that."

From the uncomfortable tone of her voice, Sun Hee really didn't like the idea of being known as child killers.

Good, showed she wasn't all crazy in there.

"Not publically anyway." Mai said wryly, but she acquiesced to the point, tilting her head slightly, "You are right from a PR standpoint, if that's something we care about?" She looked at Jordan for that, her face showing no inclination towards either choice.

Jordan didn't hesitate, nodding firmly, crossing his arms to enforce with his posture that he was not messing around with this. "I might be in the process of making a criminal gang, but killing kids is not something we should be doing, same as trafficking, sex slavery and the other more reprehensible actions of the gangs in Brockton Bay."

Sun Hee looked relieved, as she got back to work, a gesture from Mai towards yet another stack of papers getting her moving. No doubt she'd been worried about exactly what she'd sworn loyalty to for saving her grandfather.

"It will make recruitment easier." Mai acknowledged," She nodded towards the various papers of addresses and names on the wall," That's safehouses and stash houses I remember, although some are likely outdated, the names are of people who might be amenable to a change."

She snorted, rolling her eyes slightly, poking him in the arm, "And realize you will have to actually do some illegal things to make money, you can't just discard it all." She reminded him.

Jordan scoffed, knowing she was right, but not about those things. He didn't need to do those to make money, there were better ways.

Jordan eyed the many many lists of addresses and names that were pinned or stapled up on the wall. No regular gang member would know this much, no prostitute would get this kind of information, it just wasn't possible.

There was just too much.

He waved Mai over to the corner, so they could speak privately without Sun Hee overhearing. Mai followed him with a resigned look on her face. No doubt she'd immediately understood what he was after, she'd likely known the second she began preparing all this - that it would bring questions.

"So do I need to ask, or are you going to make it easy and explain this?" Jordan asked seriously, keeping his posture loose, not wanting to make it seem like he was threatening her, just demanding an explanation.

With his size and muscles, it was all too easy to come off as intimidating just standing still.

Mai smiled wryly, but with a hint of melancholy, "It's a shitty story, you sure you want to know more?"

Jordan's features tightened, "I don't really want to know more, except for who to kill." He said slowly, fists clenching slightly at the thought of what he already knew just being the tip of the iceberg. "But I need to know I can trust you, and all this information… You don't get all this unless you're high up in a gang, Mai."

"Almost right." She said with a small approving nod, "My father used to control the Black Dragons, a Japanese gang in Brockton Bay before Lung arrived, it was the largest Asian gang, and makes up the larger part of the ABB now."

Jordan winced, an Asian gang with a dragon theme… Yeah Lung would have definitely not allowed that to continue on. "I'm assuming Lung took over everything?" He asked, resignedly, knowing this was only going to get worse.

But he needed to know, as much as he didn't want to. He couldn't let Mai continue on with so many secrets if he wanted to trust her with a lofty position.

Mai nodded, a solemn look on her face as she crossed her arms over, rubbing at her forearms self-consciously, "Yeah… I knew so much because even as a little girl, my father would have me around the office, would teach me how to run a gang, how to get respect, and tribute. He had wanted me to take over…" She chuckled harshly, face twisting in anger, "So that's what those names and addresses are, things I used to know, added in with whatever scraps I found while in the ABB's care."

Jordan put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently, "I'm sorry, Mai, but thank you for telling me, I know it must have been hard for you, with Lung killing your dad and taking over everything you had, making you suffer as he did after, he will pay one day, I'll make sure of it." He promised.

Mai snorted, her eyes glossy and almost dead looking, so unlike her normally scathing intelligent look, "Lung didn't kill my father… He demanded tribute, he demanded for my father to prove his loyalty to the Dragon."

Jordan sucked in a breath, seeing where this was going, his hand spasming on Mai's shoulder.

Mai continued on, a bitter curl to her lips, "My father brought me to the brothel himself, and to prove his loyalty, he participated in the initiation to break me properly for my new masters. He's one of Lung's topmost lieutenants now…" She laughed shortly, "I heard my mother killed herself the same day… Smart woman."

What do you even say to that?

How can you even…

He should have killed himself before allowing his daughter….

Jordan felt angrier then he had for a long time. Almost on par with his anger towards Panacea.

"That's so horrible and sad! I'm so sorry you went through that Mai-neechan!" Sun Hee cried, tears falling down her face as she threw her arms around Mai.

Both of us jumped, cursing at the same time. We'd completely forgotten about Sun Hee's existence after going to the corner, which meant she'd used her power to listen in.

Exactly as she'd been warned not to ever do to the both of them…

"What did we say about using your power on us!?" Jordan barked out, sternly, glaring down at Sun Hee, who was holding onto Mai as hard as she could, as the aloof teenager tried to extracitate herself from the embrace, pushing one hand against the Korean girl's face.

"I wasn't going to, but Mai-neechan looked super sad, and I just had to see what it was about so I could help!" Sun Hee defended herself, letting go of Mai and jumping back - rubbing her face from where Mai had vigorously pushed at her.

"You're not Japanese, quit it with that bullshit!" Mai ordered, taking a step back, looking like she was going to break out in hives from the close contact and sudden intimacy.

Sun Hee got a stubborn look on her face that Jordan just knew didn't bode well. "No! You're my Neechan now. You need one, and I'm going to make sure you're never hurt again!"

Jordan and Mai both shared the uncomfortable realization that they had no idea what to do, sharing a glance, both asking the other to please deal with the situation.

Meanwhile the Korean woman that was technically older than both of them, beamed at them, bouncing on the balls of her feet, "And I'll definitely help Jordan get your dad and Lung, they deserve everything that's coming for them!" Sun Hee promised somehow pairing a vicious tone with a bright grin.

At least… She broke the mood? Jordan thought, not sure he had any idea of what to even say to Mai after that revelation.

Her father was going to die, he decided.

The second he had a name.

He was dead.

Worst case, he could just kill every lieutenant in the ABB.





The same time, PRT HQ, Brockton Bay,

"You said they would be safe!' Ethan spat out, bursting into the Director's office, the door slamming into the wall from the force he'd opened it with.

Director Emily Piggot didn't even flinch, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at his entrance, before pursing her lips, speaking into the receiver of the phone she was holding to her ear, "We'll continue this later, Calvert. You'll take no action without actionable intel, that is final! There is absolutely no proof that the Empire has lost any capes, you will do nothing!" Her voice dripped with distaste, before she forcefully slammed the landline down, cold assessing eyes on him, before they drifted to the entrance behind him, and the PRT troopers with raised rifles that stood at the ready.

"At ease." She ordered clippedly, the troopers lowering their rifles, but notably not leaving the area. "Close the door, Assault, there's no need for any more gossip than you've already engineered with such a ham handed entrance." Director Piggot said shortly, "The heroes of the Protectorate can always reach me on short notice through official channels…" She drawled, sneering slightly as she emphasized the word heroes.

Ethan knew Piggot wasn't exactly fond of any of the parahumans on the team to begin with - but him, she disliked above all, due to his… Previous career. But he'd respected her at least, as a professional, someone who could do the job even if she disliked the people under her. But now…

She hadn't kept her end of the bargain.

Ethan closed the door, probably more forcefully than was wise for the rumor mill… Before turning back to Piggot, incensed, but knowing better then to shout or rage, that would get him nowhere with the Director. "You ordered me to make use of my previous contacts…" He started lowly, teeth gritting together.

Director Piggot, nodded, her entire mien one of complete disregard of his feelings on the matter, "It was one of the conditions of your 'transfer' from Madcap to Assault." She said coldly, eyes narrowing, "One you avoided as much as you could until recently, my orders are not 'suggestions', your network needed to be disbanded, it's only due to simple logic and expediency that I was allowing their transfer as PRT assets instead of jailing them."

For all their talk of the law, Ethan thought, they were so cavalier in the PRT about bending it at their whim. Sometimes he didn't feel very different from his villainous days, working here. Today was one of them. These people had trusted him. And he'd betrayed that trust, while foolishly believing the PRT would hold up their end of the bargain.

Director Piggot continued, "They are, one and all, criminals, there was always the risk they'd suffer a bad end, irregardless of any machinations on our part."

Ethan grimaced, hands clenched into fists as he took in the absolute uncaring attitude of his boss. He'd sacrificed a lot over the years, but selling out his network had cost him the most. People that had assisted him, that had supplied him for all those times that he broke people out before they could be birdcaged - sold out to his boss to save his burgeoning hero career and his relationship.

Some days he wondered if they were even the good guys.

He'd taken solace in the fact that Director Piggot was at least a pragmatic woman, seeing more use in using his contacts for the PRT's benefit, then throwing the book at them and locking them away. He could give them that at least, a nominal freedom, instead of a cell.

He hadn't spoken to any of them after their arrangements were made, the freedom offered by the PRT, a heavy chain around their camaraderie, one that likely severed his relationship with everyone he'd once held dear.

He stepped forward, growling as he placed his hands down on Piggot's desk, looming over her, "Sun Hee and Han weren't fucking taken into PRT custody though, were they? And what about the poor people that owned Shoaling's?" He snarled, "You promised me that my contacts would be protected if I sold them out!"

What stung him the most, was that he'd likely have ended up doing the same thing even without those protections, he truly was a selfish bastard in the end. "They didn't deserve to be dragged out of their store to be lynched!"

Director Piggot snapped back at him, her voice colder than the arctic, "Assault, get your hands off my desk and stand up properly, unless you'd prefer a suspension, with a course on intimidation tactics in the workplace tacked on, paid for with a deduction of your wage."

Ethan backed off, still seething, a feeling of desperation budding within him, but not enough to risk his career here, not enough to lose everything he gave up so much for. "No, Director Piggot." He said, struggling to keep his voice level. "I understand, I didn't mean to appear threatening, I simply wanted answers."

Director Piggot scoffed, shaking her head, "I expected better of you, Assault." She said matter of factly, eyes boring into him, "You know as well as I do that things don't always work out in the field, or at least you should…" She let that hang in the air for a moment as Ethan took the reprimanding tone without flinching, "Out of all your contacts, this situation is the only one that has gone so poorly, we had intended to shake down who supplied your contacts only, since you assured me your contacts would not talk."

Ethan did flinch this time, because he had been the one to argue that Han would never sell out his suppliers. All he knew was that they were not from any of the gangs in Brockton Bay. Hence why Piggot was mildly interested in the matter. Hence why Assault had convinced his contacts they were under his protection, even as a hero, so he could visit openly. So that he could keep the connection while the supplier would likely begin to change their habits, spooked by the hero's presence - giving them a shot at catching them as any changes in habits and methods of delivery - would make them easier to catch.

Or at least would make it more likely Han might slip and tell Ethan something about his supplier, even if only in anger.

Even though Han mostly sold normal weapons, he did have other things to offer to his more discerning customers… Ethan knew tinkertech was on the table. Hence the interest from the PRT.

And they'd all horrendously underestimated the reaction of the gangs to their little ploy, thinking Han was unaffiliated with the ABB, that it would be enough.

Ethan hadn't argued hard enough.

Director Piggot for the first time softened slightly, even if her eyes remained cold, her expression seemingly more worn, more tired. "Assault… No one could have expected the ABB to go to such lengths, they have stayed out of the way of purposely antagonizing us since Lung showed his strength… We could not have predicted this escalation against two 'harmless unaffiliated civilians', if anything your continued presence should have held them back."

For all that Brockton Bay had a horrible reputation, the gangs did not in fact tend to smash down entire businesses and kill people so openly, Ethan knew. Unless Lung was on a rampage, then all bets were off.

It just didn't make any money for the gangs and it didn't help build their reputation to do such things in their own territory, such attacks were usually being utilized in gang wars against other gangs assets, not their own civilians.

As much as it galled anyone in the PRT and Protectorate to classify any of the civilians living in those areas as 'belonging' to the gangs, it was a reality.

Ethan didn't like it, he didn't like it at all, it sounded like worthless excuses for an operation that had been all too risky, one he had protested vigorously against. "We haven't found a trace of them, the ABB might have…" He didn't want to voice it, the thought too horrible.

He also didn't want to admit to the tiny nagging voice inside who argued that Piggot was right, that no one out of everyone involved had even considered such a reaction happening, not with how quiet the ABB had been in that area lately.

Director Piggot did not have any such compunctions, more than anyone, she was used to speaking about horrific events. "Yes, the girl is likely lost to us, the grandfather likely dead, it is a regrettable loss, but these things happen in the field, we could not have predicted it." She said, already looking away from him, onto her computer screen, "Was that all, Assault?" She asked, unconcerned.

Ethan shook his head, standing firm, "We should rescue them, it's our fault they are in this situation. It is what heroes do." He stressed, trying to keep his voice steady and calm, not allowing any pleading note to come to the surface.

It was his fault dammit! They couldn't just wash their hands off them!

Director Piggot glanced at him, typing something on the keyboard, her expression dark, lips turned down, "Assault…" She shook her head, "You know as well as I do that we have no information on their whereabouts, no leads to them, no clue if they're even alive, meanwhile we have both the Empire and the ABB out in the streets in full, this matter is closed, it is unfortunate that this happened, but our hands are tied." The note of finality struck hard, as Piggot seemed to completely dismiss his presence, working away at her computer.

Ethan wanted to argue, but there was just no avenue forward that he could see. Not with the streets suddenly flaring up again, ABB on the warpath because some independent killed off the group that had sacked Shoaling's, (good riddance, but also suspicious timing) with the Empire on the warpath, likely because the ABB was making noise… Two civilians (or criminals as classified by the PRT) were just too small of a worry for the Director, he could even understand it somewhat. Even as it rankled.

"Thank you for your time, Director Piggot." He said stiffly, before turning to leave.

Just as he opened the door, coming face to face with the PRT troopers outside, Director Piggot called out to him, the command easily heard into the hallway, "Assault, you're on ward sitting duty for the next week, console or training only, no patrols." She ordered, her voice like a steel trap, closing off the half born ideas that were percolating in his head.

He clenched his teeth, hard. "Yes, Director." He said stiffly, before walking away.

Director Piggot had stopped him from going out and searching for them himself, fine. He'd just have to get creative then.

He'd just have to find this Grue, and ask him some pointed question of what he'd seen of his contacts outside Shoaling's…

As a hero, it was his job to apprehend villains, Piggot couldn't complain if he brought the guy in…

He couldn't toss his career away for this, not… Not when the love of his life was part of the equation.

But he could do his best to find them, to get them into the PRT where they would be safe, if under watch.

Or at the very least…

If they'd been killed, he could get that bastard Grue, and send him personally into the Birdcage.

He didn't have enough strikes yet, but Ethan would find a way.

There had been that big black guy in there when he'd visited… He didn't match the file they had on Brian Laborn… But…

He was as good as any avenue to start with, now he just needed to ask for a few favors…





Some time later,

Jordan had spent most of the day going through everything Mai had, deciding on what places to check, who was worth surreptitiously contacting. Mai's knowledge was slightly out of date, except for whatever ABB knowledge she'd scrounged up, but unless a stash house or safe house was busted up by the BBPD, it's unlikely it would have changed much from the gangs before Lung, to the ABB - most locations likely still in use.

Mai had refused to give her father's name, unfortunately. But he still had a hankering to go out and put the squeeze on some of Lung's people.

Not something he'd thought he'd say this soon, but Mai had made a good point. The Empire was weakened, but no one likely knew, so if Lung could be pointed at the Empire, the resulting gang war would leave them as the ultimate winners, they didn't need territory right now, other than maybe a good safe house or warehouse - they needed people.

And lots of people in bad situations could disappear in the middle of a gang war, and no one would look, assuming they'd died.

Or that was the general idea.

So now that it was getting darker out, he and Sun Hee were on a mission, one that required stealth as they couldn't be fingered as the assailants - which fortunately Sun Hee was literally the ideal partner for. Mai and he had come up with a workaround for the fact that she'd disappear from his memories, a fact that made any plan they made to hit somewhere difficult - it would end up ill executed the second Sun Hee disappeared into the shadows as he made moves without realizing she was there.

Essentially, one part was simply notes that told him what partner he had and what she'd be doing, with him needing to get into the habit of always checking before he hit somewhere. The second part was that most of the plan they'd make was to plan a standard operating procedure for the two of them together - mostly Mai's idea.

That way, even if Jordan wasn't aware of Sun Hee or what she was doing, he'd know from the plan, that while he'd tackle the largest congregation of targets, the ones on the outside or by themselves would be picked off by his partner, and to expect the possibility one of the targets would turn on their people, and not to freak out and blast everything fearing an enemy Master.

This way, even if he'd lose the memory of who or what his partner was, he still had the plan, and the written down information to remember exactly what he needed to be doing.

It wouldn't work for spontaneous fights, or for unexpected circumstances, but it would at least make for a baseline allowing them to work together. And at least even in an ambush or unexpected fight, he'd have the notes to remind him that the unknown Master/Stranger was on his side.

Sun Hee would likely do best working on her own, once she was trained up enough he and Mai could trust her to do so.

"Sun Hee, do you feel up to it? We can do it another night if it's too much, too soon…" He asked quietly, the both of them sitting on a rooftop opposite of one of the marked down stash houses that had belonged to the Black Dragons, before they became part of the ABB.

They were both masked up, even if neither of them wore a costume, both in regular street wear, Sun Hee taking deep steadying breaths as she watched the obviously occupied building ahead of them.

Before this mission, Jordan had unloaded several skills on both her and Han, in Han's case, medical skills and caregiver skills to make him better suited to take care of his sister.

And in Sun Hee's case, firearms training that was stolen from a PRT agent in a coma, as well as from a retired cop. Adding on several skills to do with fighting or sneaking around, even having managed an honest to god cat burglar from one of the long term care homes.

It would hopefully ease her into fighting without some of the hang ups a normal civilian would have.

It took her a while to answer him, and Jordan didn't push her, she was too valuable an asset to risk alienating, which was likely why Mai wasn't kicking up more of a fuss over the whole Neechan thing.

"I can do it." She said quietly, finally. Her eyes determined above her simple cloth mask, "No one can see me anyway, I can do it."

Jordan nodded, patting her on the back, "Good job, little Sun, I knew I could count on you." He said, appropriating the nickname he'd heard both Assault and Han use for her. Feeling the muscles in her back loosening somewhat at the support.

"Go on my mark." He said quietly, looking down at his forearm, where'd he'd taped the note that would explain what was going on when he forgot her.

"Go." He said, spying a gang member walking up to the stash house.

He blinked, shaking his head, wondering what he was waiting for, he had a stash house to hit.

He noticed the note attached to his arm, reading it, feeling slightly confused and suspicious.

But it is my handwriting, and Mai's, who would be able to fake both of ours and why…?

So I have a stranger assisting me huh?


Jordan sat down to wait, as the note said, no harm in just waiting, worst case, he'd just have to abandon this stash house and find another.




With Sun Hee.

She could have taken control over the gang member who's shadow she'd jumped to, but she didn't know any secret passwords or anything else to gain access to the house, or know the names of anyone inside, it would be useless until it was time to fight.

She controlled their bodies, not their thoughts or anything, so she couldn't parse any rituals the gang members had between them or code words, making it pointless to try and walk in while controlling him, he'd just make a scene when she left and he acted all confused.

So she simply jumped into his shadow long enough to be brought closer to the house, avoiding the temptation that lingered just under the surface, to take over the man, one like those who'd attempted to kill her gramps, to make him kill his own friends, see how he'd like it!

But she refrained, they were all getting theirs soon enough, Mai-neechan and the boss would ensure it.

While she was in a shadow, her sight was kind of weird, like monochrome and stuff, with shadows she could use standing out in a fuzzy weird way. It made it harder to concentrate on what wasn't shadows, but she could do it, if she focused.

Focusing was like her mortal enemy, so it was really mean that her power seemed to require a lot of it!

She didn't know why she couldn't use some shadows, but could use others, but the porch light gave enough shadows that she could jump onto the porch, and from there, seeing into the house and the many shadows there, she was inside.

She could have just hung onto the man's shadow until he was inside, but he was just standing there, talking with the guy at the door, and she didn't want to wait until they both went inside, the boss was counting on her!

Just in the living area, she spotted four people, drinking and playing cards. As she looked around from the shadow of the couch, she didn't see any drugs, but she saw a lot of guns laying around, and several heavy looking cases.

Weapons stash? She wondered.

They'd thought it was a drug house, but maybe it was a weapons stash instead?

That was kind of better wasn't it? It would really piss Lung off, right?

She shuddered slightly, she would have never imagined anyone wanting to piss Lung off before now. At least they were making him mad at someone else.

She moved along through the shadows, checking other rooms, sometimes needing to finagle herself around to odd positions to get line of sight into another room.

The entire bottom floor had more cases stacked against the wall in several rooms, including the kitchen, and no sign of anything like drugs, except a pipe that a lone gang member was using in the kitchen.

She bit her lip in indecision, the only stairwell that led up to the second floor was crazy lit up, leaving her no way to line of sight shadow hop to the second floor. It also made her suspicious of what they were guarding up there that they so religiously kept the way up, lit up.

The stairwell was also guarded, the guy with the pipe sitting in the kitchen watching it, one hand one a shotgun, even as he smoked.

Well, only one way forward, she thought cheerfully, not one to back down just because things got a little more difficult.

The boss had faced down a lot of armed men just to save her and Gramps, the least she could do was move around some dirtbag.

She dived into the shadow of the pipe smoking gang member, focusing on stretching the shadow, his shadow, up and over him. The process took a few moments to her senses, but flowed over the gang member in a second.

She blinked, glad to have normal vision back again, gently putting the pipe down, scrunching her nose at the smell. It felt really weird to have a dick though, she kind of wished more women were gang members, feeling bodies like this was just freaky.

Like how did they deal with it just dangling around all day?

Oh yuck!

Apparently thinking about it was waking it up, Ew, Ew, Ew. She didn't need to know what that felt like!

Time to go. Don't think. Ew.

Trying to not make too much noise, she left the kitchen, heading straight up the stairwell, wincing as some of the steps creaked, stopping momentarily and looking back to see if anyone had heard.

Luckily the TV was on, and the guys playing cards were loud enough over that as well, that no one heard or came to investigate.

She made it up to the second floor, letting out a breath, it was kind of nerve-racking sneaking around, even knowing it wasn't even her body, which was still, she felt, hanging around in the man's shadow as she piloted him.

She was faced with four doors and a dirty hallway, no real good way to explore through shadows, so she continued on with her meat puppet.

Ugh, definitely shouldn't call it that, I feel disgusted now. I need to ask Mai-neechan for a better name for it.

The first door she opened was just a simple bathroom, pretty dirty, but simple, nothing exciting to see, so she gently closed the door, happy the hinges were at least well oiled in this place.

The second door, when she opened it, brought out a terrified squeak from its occupant.

Sun Hee froze in the doorway, eyes wide. The room was plain, it had no furniture other than a bed, no adornments on the wall.

No clothes on the girl chained to the bed….

"Please no…. please!" The girl whimpered, her red eyes puffy, her body covered in bruises, with that, Sun Hee quickly backed out of the room, closing the door, leaning back against it trying to not freak out.

The fear in that girl's eyes, looking at her. Not me, it's not me!

She felt bile rising up, and pushed it down, she had a mission to finish. And I'm definitely saving that girl! She thought, for the first time, really paying attention to the shotgun she was carrying along.

These bastards…

Sun Hee wasn't a very violent person, not really, that's one of the reasons why she'd always ended up back home, alone, working with Gramps, away from other people who were just generally shitty.

Being Asian in Brockton Bay, you always had pushy people asking for things, so it was better to be alone.

So no, she wasn't very violent.

When she found one empty room, with signs of recent occupancy and lots of blood, and another room with another girl, this one blank and unseeing, just laying limply with no sign of even noticing her opening the door - she decided that violence had its place.

She knew what the plan was, she probably should follow it.

But as she cocked the shotgun, walking down the stairs, she just couldn't even think of running out of the house to go get the boss to come do the work for her. She'd seen those girls, she'd found out this was both a weapons stash house, and a place to stash and use kidnapped girls, before moving them on.

Or at least she assumed that is what it was.

She needed to cleanse this house of filth. She couldn't leave it to her boss, not all of it. If this is what they'd find every time they'd go after the ABB, Sun Hee intended to help, in a very permanent way.

Her boss had already explained the unwritten rules and how bullshit they were. So she wasn't going to let any of these bastards get away with this.

Maybe people tried to not kill too much in these gang wars. But she thought that some people didn't deserve her going easy. These people couldn't even be called people!

"Hey, it's not time for a guard change yet, Kentaro, get your high ass back into the kitchen, you know how the boss gets if people sneak up and break the merchandise with overuse. Only once a day for each of ya!" One of the men sitting at the card table called out when she entered the room.

Two of the others jeered along, laughing. Acting like this was normal. Like this wasn't sick and disgusting and a crime against fucking humanity!

Sun Hee had never pictured herself as a killer, but as she walked up to the table, and fired straight at the assholes, she found that she didn't even feel a twinge of guilt.

Two of the men died immediately, getting shot close range and taking the buckshot in the head.

Knowing the response she'd get, she dived out of the man, back into the shadow behind the couch, just in time for the survivors to unload on the confused Kentaro, filling him with lead, killing him instantly.

"What the fuck was that, crazy motherfucker!" The man from the card table that survived yelled out, the other two men rushing into the room.

They all began shouting, the two of them who hadn't been in the room, stepping over to Kentaro's fallen form, firing into the corpse, screaming obscenities at him.

Mai had gotten Sun Hee a small pistol, and she tried using it then, firing from her hidden position, except… It didn't work.

Annoying, if I could fire from the shadows I'd be like the coolest assassin ever! She thought, at least confirming that she couldn't personally harm someone while hiding.

With a simple thought, she slipped into the shadow of one of the men who stood over Kentaro's corpse, mastering him, raising his gun, lining it up to the other man's forehead, the panicked look in his eyes, not stopping her from pulling the trigger.

OW! She cried out right after, getting tossed out of the shadow, tumbling across the ground, suddenly visible to the one man still alive, her hands roaming across her body, still feeling the phantom pain of being shot.

Thankfully no actual damage appeared to have crossed over, just pain. A lot of pain, her insides HURT!

She'd been tossed out of her hold, the man she killed managing to raise his own gun enough to fire back, killing the person she was controlling, firing straight into his chest.

"Cape!" The last man shouted hysterically, firing at her, Sun Hee shrieking as she dove into another shadow, just barely avoiding death.

Suddenly a shadow materialized through the door, her boss coming out of the smoky shadow state, firing a gun at the sole remaining member, killing him instantly, his head ventilated.

Sun Hee hung her head inside the shadow she'd taken refuge in. She'd messed up.

I'm going to be in trouble again… She whined internally, trying to not think over what she'd just done, but it wouldn't go away.

She plopped out of the shadow she'd hidden within, finding herself on the floor in front of the couch, shaking wildly, not even understanding why.

Why? I didn't have a problem doing it! So why now?





With Jordan.

Jordan looked around at the carnage, his gun out and sweeping the area, eyes sharp and looking out for any possible missed target. Once he was fairly sure they were in the clear, he crouched down next to the shaking and white Sun Hee, laying an arm across her shoulders, "Hey, what happened, are you okay? Are you injured?"

She sniffled, looking away from him, still shaking slightly, "I'm such a baby, look at me, I couldn't even handle a couple gang members."

Jordan squeezed her into his side, knowing she hadn't followed the plan, now that she was out in the open again, but seeing the results, "Hey, you kicked ass, you won, yeah we'll have to talk about following the plan, but I wasn't here, maybe you did the right thing, Sun Hee." He counseled.

She rubbed at her face, the shaking beginning to subside a little, even as she refused to look around them, at the dead bodies, "I almost died." She mumbled.

Jordan sighed, holstering his gun, using his now free hand to rustle her hair. "Hey, but you didn't, you'll learn, and I'm always here." He nudged her, a small smile on his face, "If you use me, and don't go all Terminator on me, eh?"

Sun Hee's lips quirked up slightly, but she was still refusing to look around them, her eyes focused on him.

"Hey, I know this might not be the nicest thing. But Sun Hee…" He coached gently, "Look around you, you chose this for a reason I have to assume - so don't shy away from it, you did this, and you did it well." Not what I had expected, not so soon, which makes me wonder what she found that made her go lethal, something I'd thought would take a while to work up to…

Sun Hee slowly lifted her head, looking around her, blanching slightly, but keeping her head high as she peered around them, at the many bodies, the bullet casings, the blood, the damaged furniture. "They deserved it." She said, a hint of desperation to her tone.

Jordan hugged her, murmuring to her, "I have no doubt about it. You did good, men like these… They're not a loss, Sun Hee." I'd intended to piss off Lung anyway, killing his people to set him off, kickstart this gang war, giving us the opportunity to find a new place to hide/live, and people to work under us.

Sun Hee had managed all on her own almost, he'd have to get an after action report to figure it all out, but this had been a good test of her abilities. She'd walked into a stash house and killed everyone inside.

It was more than what he'd expected of her, she'd only been meant to scout, to tell him the layout and amount of people inside and their armaments - and then to master one of them to cause a scene while he broke in to lay waste.

She'd gone above and beyond. And proved that she had what it would take too. Jordan felt slightly guilty for coaching her that murder was okay, but he needed her to be his Oni Lee, more than he needed her to be happy.

It was all for Jana.

"There's… Girls, upstairs." Sun Hee said quietly, gnawing at her lower lip, looking drained.

Jordan patted her on the head, "Then more than ever, Sun Hee… Good job, you did the right thing." He said, feeling a spike of anger himself.

He knew that it was one of the perks of being in the ABB, something that brought Asian criminals to Brockton from all over, looking to join. Easy access to girls whenever they wanted, how they wanted, with no consequences for accidents, other then finding a replacement, but to even have some of that in a fucking stash house… How low could they go?

"You did perfectly." He murmured in Sun Hee's ear, as he continued hugging her, getting a shy smile in return.

… I'm going to hell.





They'd been forced to leave the girls for the BBPD, sticking around out of sight to ensure they arrived before the ABB did. Thankfully this wasn't far enough into ABB territory that the cops refused to show.

The fact there were plenty of areas in the city where cops would never go, told you a lot about how shitty the city was.

They didn't have any of the facilities or logistics yet to absorb anyone they saved for their own gang, so unfortunately the BBPD was the best they could do for the girls.

Panacea could heal them all fully, help with the trauma and everything… If she wasn't such a bitch, he thought, not for the first time.

As soon as they'd returned home, and shuffled Sun Hee off to her grandfather for comfort, he and Mai sat down to put together a plan.

They'd likely see a real beginning of war soon, Lung couldn't ignore so many deaths, it would make him look weak.

And Kaiser wouldn't be able to ignore Lung rampaging without looking weak either, his whole schtick was to pose the Empire as Brockton Bay's only protection from the Dragon, so he couldn't not react.

Even if he'd likely prefer to stay out of it, now that he didn't have Othala.

He'd made sure to not use Grue's power, so that Lung would have someone else to point at for the dead men. And the Empire would likely be the main suspect. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out a master was involved, not with how the majority of the deaths were inflicted amongst the gangbangers themselves.

Lung wouldn't suspect the PRT because it wasn't their M.O to do things this lethally. And masters weren't exactly something they advertised that they had.

They outright hide the fact Glory Girl and Gallant are both masters, albeit to different degrees - so no, they wouldn't be suspects.

Lung probably didn't even think of the Merchants as anything worth thinking about, which really at this moment left someone independent - or the Empire. Although the Empire did not have a master like that right now on the roster, they did have access to the Gesellschaft and could easily borrow a cape temporarily.

So either Lung would start hitting the Empire, or Regent was already in Brockton Bay and known, in which case… Bye bye Regent.

Jordan hoped it would be the first one. Not that it would be a big loss if it was the second one.

"So what do you have for me, it could be hours, it could be days, but something will kick off soon, Lung will not sit idle." Jordan said, filled with nervous energy.

He hadn't gotten to let it loose, with Sun Hee taking the majority of the fight from him, although the realizations she'd had with her power were very good to know - so in the end, it had been worth it that she went off script.

Not that it had saved her from a tongue lashing from Mai.

Who was now tapping the wall sized map of Brockton Bay, hitting several markers around the Trainyards area. "It will have to be here." She said, sounding certain. "We'll want to be out of the line of fire, and out of sight for a while."

Jordan stood beside her, watching the map with skepticism, "One, wouldn't there be a lack of power and water making it infeasible, two, wouldn't it be extremely obvious if there was sudden activity in the area?"

Mai nodded calmly, "That is correct, for most of the area." She tapped a fingernail on one of the markers at the very north end of the train yards. "This used to be one of our warehouses, I doubt Lung ever bothered to use it, too far away and in the middle of no man's land, even as a safe house or weapons storage, it would take too much effort over too much of a distance to move things back and forth into Brockton Bay proper, especially as I doubt he'd get told about what it was..."

Jordan didn't lose any of his skepticism, raising an unimpressed eyebrow, "How does any of that make it a good place for us?" He wanted to know, because she certainly wasn't selling it well.

Mai smiled mysteriously, "You'll see." She promised, before starting to count on her fingers, "Access to water and electricity, with already doctored meters to hide it's usage as belonging to that of a factory in the docks, something we might have to refix - it's out of the way and private, no one will run into us there, allowing us the privacy to build up, away from the other gangs. The PRT and the BBPD as well as the heroes - don't patrol anywhere near, so no risk of being accidentally discovered."

Jordan raised a hand, stopping her, "Fine, you don't need to keep listing things, I get it." He eyed the map, it would be way out of the way, barely still considered within Brockton Bay. But that would suit their current purposes well, he supposed.

It would just make it a pain to go too and from for supplies, "We'll need a truck." He said succinctly. At the very least, two or three would be even better.

Like hell he was schlepping across town several times a week for necessities.

Mai smirked, "That's right, but that's the other good point in this, because if we're buying that shit in bulk, we can just send a truck to Boston and bring it back."

Jordan nodded, rubbing his chin in thought, he'd have to have someone he could trust do that, or he'd risk losing the truck and the supplies, but it would be doable - and with the benefit of not twigging anyone in Brockton Bay onto the fact someone in town was buying in bulk and trying to figure out where it's going to.

Why make it easier for thinkers when he didn't need to. Yeah, fuck you Tattletale…

"I'm assuming you brought this location up because it is useful for more than a few of us?" He asked.

Mai shrugged, hesitating slightly, the scars on her face standing out in the harsh light of the halogen bulb right above them. "Unless something's happened, the warehouse itself should house several dozen of us and everything we need to set up, with buildings nearby theoretically able to be used, although I don't know what condition they're in."

Jordan sighed, "It's almost too good to be true, it's likely already scavenged and filled with homeless people, you know?" It's a long walk into nowhere for them, but it's not like they have anywhere better to be…

Once he had Panacea's power, the homeless in Brockton Bay would literally fall into the palm of his hands, but right now, they were just potential spies or thieves.

Mai cocked her head, a strange smile on her face, "I doubt it, but if they did, it wouldn't have been kind to them, with electricity still hooked up, the electric fence should still be up, not to mention that the only way into the building is through locked steel doors with alarm panels needing a password to get through, the loading bays are backed by secondary steel slats as well while the facility is in lockdown."

"...Mai, what the fuck is this place?" Jordan asked warily.

Because this was starting to sound like a little bit more than a warehouse, and he couldn't fathom why Lung wouldn't know about it, or use it, if it was well defended and private.

Mai smiled bitterly, eyes reminiscing, looking a bit lost, "It was supposed to be my villain's lair." She admitted.





2 hours later.

Driving with Mai was a fucking pain, she was without a doubt the worst backseat driver in the history of time.

Even in stealing a car, she'd had her opinions the entire time, criticizing how quickly he broke in, how he made a mess smashing in the window - Jordan had threatened to find a beetle to drive in if she didn't shut the fuck up.

He got that she was nervous and sucked at showing it in a non bitchy way, but god's woman, shut up!

That had stopped her, until he was actually driving. It seemed Mai was convinced he was going to get them both killed.

Which was ridiculous.

Speed limits were suggestions anyway, not hard rules. If it says 60, it really means you can go somewhere around 100, they just put the lower number for all the pussies that couldn't handle it.

At least that's the story he was sticking to with Mai.

The Trainyards really were the most desolate place in Brockton Bay, a dim and gray wasteland of broken buildings and warehouses, roads that were beginning to get to the point he was beginning to wonder if he'd accidentally portalled into a fallout game.

… Was it bad to say he'd prefer a post-apocalyptic society then Earth Bet?

He could definitely see why no one went this far into the Trainyards though, the only usable parts were around the train station which was still getting bus service - but out here, there wasn't any life.

Even the weeds seemed to regret coming here. Greenery not having taken over the dilapidated surroundings yet.

It would be a pain in the ass to run anything from here. But for hiding and slowly building up strength?

It was fucking perfect.

Although he had found a problem.

"Road ends here, we'll have to walk the last bit. Going to have to fix that if we're going to be trucking in supplies." He grunted, pulling his nice stolen Ford to a stop, the road ahead of him broken apart into jagged pieces, mounds of dirt and craters interspersing the area, indicative of a cape fight at some point in the past.

"It might be a fixer upper, but we can't stay in our apartments smack dab in ABB territory, someone will notice Sun Hee and Han and report it, or someone will notice that you have a fair resemblance to Grue. And ABB grunts aren't very bright - them apologizing after killing you, for getting the wrong big black guy, is hardly going to help." Mai explained, looking around slightly wistfully.

Not that the ABB would apologize, but he got her point.

"You're sure your father wouldn't have used the place again?" He asked, once more, just to be sure.

Mai shook her head, "He wouldn't have dared, he built this place to be my villainous lair, he was always talking about getting me powers…" She let out a heady breath, opening the passenger side door, glancing back at Jordan, "This was my childhood dream, and his ambitions, rolled up in one - after what he did, he wouldn't have touched it."

Jordan silently got out and followed Mai, the more he found out about her backstory, the more it fucking sucked. Although now there was some more information on why she seemed so dead set against powers…

What kind of father raises a girl to be a supervillain? He thought, disgusted.

After a few minutes of walking, they came upon the boundaries, electrical fencing covering the plot of land, a drab looking warehouse up ahead.

"Not much to look at." He pointed out awkwardly, not sure how to move past the previous discussion, not when they were entering her literal sweet sixteen gift from her dad, one never realized because he tore everything away from her years before.

Mai chuckled, her face weary, yet some amusement was shining in her eyes, "It wouldn't be a proper lair if it was obvious, would it?" She walked up to the gate, "It was never finished, but it was set up enough that we'd be able to live there, safe from the gangs, for now."

Jordan looked around, humming in agreement, he could spot no sign of the usual scavenging operations, nor any sign that the homeless population had made it out this far. "It looks like no one's been out here, so you may be right."

Mai gave him a crooked grin, "I'm always right." She told him, raising her chin up challengingly.

Jordan didn't take the bait, just chuckling as he continued forward with her, watching her back as she pressed in a code by the gate, allowing them entrance without having to cut through the fencing, which would ruin their own deterrent for snoopers.

They walked up to the warehouse in silence, Jordan examining the surroundings, noting down several more dilapidated buildings not too far into the distance, buildings not built as sturdy as this one, nor was it likely they still held access to water or electricity.

Mai walked up to the large double doors, the panel almost miniscule in comparison to the large steel doors. He winced as the password was put in.

Daddy's girl, yikes! This is just a continuous punch to the gut, I'm surprised she was able to even suggest this place…

"Do the honors…" Mai said quietly, face slightly pale, as she gestured to the doors.

Jordan laid a reassuring hand on her arm, squeezing once, before stepping forward and pushing the doors open, an automatic effect taking over once he'd given the initial push.

The doors slowly open, and Jordan steps inside, one hand on Mai's arm as the normally unflappable girl seemed more vulnerable than normal.

Can't blame her…

The inside was… Perfect.

It really had been structured to be somewhat of a lair, it wasn't finished, which is how he could see much of this side of it just from the entrance, but just from where he was standing, he could see a barracks area of sorts, even whole apartments, some walls and furniture missing - but the majority of the work was done.

There were even vehicles in the motor pool area, probably needing a lot of TLC, but they were there.

This was…

It was just perfect.

He turned to Mai to share in his jubilation, only to see her eyes tightly closed, as she shook slightly.

Completely ruining his mood as he realized what exactly this represented.

He grabbed her shoulders, and pulled her into a hug.

For once she didn't even try to make a snarky comment or push away.

He is a dead man, he thought, not even trying to push down his murderous impulses this time.

I said it before…

But I'm going to kill him.

Slowly.






Authors note:

So Sun Hee isn't exactly Oni Lee, but she took a plunge off the cliff to murder town, partly out of a feeling of owing it to Jordan, partly out of the horror of being face to face with exactly the kind of things Mai described.

It's a lot easier to kill when you find people that have absolutely no worth in your opinion.

Mai's history is revealed, mafia princess? Or whatever you call the daughter of a gang leader. One fully into the idea of becoming the best supervillainess.

Other kids drew ponies, Mai drew uniforms for her armies of DOOM, and devised plans on how to conquer the chocolate market so she could have all the candy bars she wanted.

Cheers

patreon.com/JollyHippopotamus
 
This story is definitely intriguing. The MC is definitely not a good person, but I find it a great example of shards influencing the user. You've managed to tie each OC into the story in such a way that it doesn't seem random, yet still have those canon pieces within. Definitely following this story from now on.
 
This story is definitely intriguing. The MC is definitely not a good person, but I find it a great example of shards influencing the user. You've managed to tie each OC into the story in such a way that it doesn't seem random, yet still have those canon pieces within. Definitely following this story from now on.

Thank you, I'm trying to do a balancing act between not a good person - and plain dirtbag, because there is a difference.

But yeah, he's only going to continue down the slippery slope, Worm isn't exactly the universe that preaches de-escalation.
 
Chapter 6: Predator or Prey?
Here's chapter 6: Predator or Prey?

So we finally get a name for our heroes, well, not heroes really, bad people that we root for a bit?

Or maybe we read because it's Worm and we delight in how it's eventually going to go to hell?

Whatever, they're named and have their first costume sorted out in this chappie. It can only go to better places from here.

So who dies in this chapter?

This is Worm, so warnings for death, destruction, depressing and disgusting shit and Nazi language.

Standard disclaimer - Worm belongs to Wildbow, it is not mine, I am simply playing in the kiddie pool.




Having their own base to withdraw to, suddenly became a godsend, as soon afterwards, the simmering issues in Brockton Bay boiled over.

ABB and Empire 88 members were seen clashing in the streets, Oni Lee managing to send Crusader to the hospital before he himself was driven off by the Protectorate due to his indiscriminate suicide runs. Cricket and Stormtiger managed to put Velocity and Battery in the hospital as well in the chaos, before they disappeared in the aftermath, leaving Crusader behind.

Well the heroes likely didn't stay hospitalized long, having Panacea on call, after all.

A force of Kaiser, Fenja, Menja, Purity, Hookwolf and Krieg managed to give as good as they got against Lung, and in the meantime completely vaporized a block of buildings, luckily around the docks - so the casualties weren't too high, but it had been quite the show as the whole city held their breath, praying for de-escalation.

Jordan had skulked around for a bit, never getting closer than a block away, hesitating on whether it was worth the risk to try and surprise one of the Empire capes.

He'd decided it was too risky in the end, and backed off, but he'd seen the conclusion from afar.

Practically the entire contingent of capes the Empire had, all used just to fight Lung to what was basically a draw. Several Empire capes were injured in the process, and without Othala - would be vulnerable for a while.

Crusader was now in PRT custody (for now), and Oni Lee and Lung walked away free of course. It definitely did not appear that much was going to calm down soon, and considering they lived in ABB territory, it was time to get out.

The Protectorate had been busy running around ensuring the civilian death toll didn't grow too high, never massing in high enough numbers in one place to be able to fight either the Empire or Lung.

Constitutionally useless as was their norm.

Jordan didn't think Piggot wanted to fight them anyway. Didn't want an escalation which was the most important thing in the world apparently. Otherwise it didn't make much sense with their actions, with how the likes of Armsmaster and Miss Militia stayed away from the heavy action.

Which was definitely on orders, because with Armsmaster's quest for glory™, he definitely wasn't avoiding Kaiser and Lung by choice.

Using them to mop up regular criminals while Lung and Kaiser were duking it out was an odd choice, but Piggot had her reasons he supposed.

Probably hoping they manage to kill each other and solve her problem for her.

One of the reasons he hadn't wanted to risk interfering in the battle had been fear of the Protectorate arriving and spotting him, figuring him out too soon, seeing him use Shadow Stalkers powers. Only after the fight did he realize they had never intended to fight unless it spread to more 'civil' areas.

Heroes, huh?

New Wave had been notable in their absence as well, fighting normie 88ers who got too bold near the boardwalk, but not going anywhere near the docks.

Half of them hadn't fought at all, just hanging around the hospital, making sure no one bothered Panacea.

Must have stuck in Glory Girls craw something fierce, a Nazi punching free for all across the city, and she was placed as a babysitter for the healer no one in Brockton was dumb enough to attack.

Maybe there was something to Piggots strategy, as most injuries or deaths seemed to consist of gang members or people affiliated with the gangs over the last few days.

Either way, it was high time to get the hell out of ABB territory. Their facility was far enough north to be well away from all this commotion, and even well out of the way of the Merchants, who seemed to have fully ignored the minor war erupting in the city.

Probably too high to notice.

Although there was always the possibility Skidmark was clever enough to wait for an opportunity.

Of course, with Mai and Sun Hee being fairly tiny and slim girls, his sister being comatose, and with Han left caring for her… It left Jordan alone to move every single thing from their apartments they wanted to keep into one of the trucks he had liberated from the motor pool at Mai's old supervillainess lair.

It's not like he could trust anyone he could hire randomly either, not unless maybe he went all the way and hired someone from the dockworkers association. Anyone from around here he hired was likely to ask a few too many questions or quietly pay attention to a little too much, like how Sun Hee and Han might look a little like people the ABB were looking for.

"I need a brute power." He muttered grouchily, wiping sweat off his forehead with his forearm, as he had just finished pushing a vanity from Mai's apartment into the back of the truck. Luckily a fairly small one, all things considered.

And at least he was a big guy, and could even see this as exercise really.

They were finally beginning to leave summer behind, although not quite yet into fall, so the weather at least wasn't too sweltering. Moving was a pain even without adding dying of heat into the equation.

Mai, who was sitting nearby, legs dangling off the edge of the back of the truck, cocked an eyebrow and replied dryly, "I made you a whole list." She patted her pockets, like she was looking for it, smirking at him, "I'm sure it was fairly exhaustive actually."

Jordan gave her an irritated look, "Most of them were not attainable." Really, killing all the wards, I can't think of any one thing that would make me get killed quicker.

Except perhaps revealing Cauldron's dirty secrets, at which point my life expectancy will be as long as it takes Contessa to ask for a portal…


Mai crossed her arms, making a tsk sound, still seemingly annoyed at his morals, however tattered they were. "We'll work on it." She promised ominously.

Jordan sighed, not bothering to argue the point, once he started gathering more powers, perhaps she'd let this whole nonsense go.

It wasn't like he was even pretending to care about killing normal gang members. So how long until his morals stretched even more.

Mai cocked her head, examining the vanity, "When you use your power… Does anything you hold become weightless?" She asked curiously.

Jordan paused, because that was a good question. And would have been great to know before he broke his back lugging all this shit down the stairs, because of course their apartment's elevator was down. "I feel like I probably can't just make a car incorporeal and pick up the car in that state and then toss it and make it corporeal." He theorized, looking at the furniture in the truck, either way, even if it worked, it wasn't like he could have moved all this in daylight using a cape power anyway.

Having a instinctive grasp of his power seemed to only extend as far as the original user had utilized it, he'd been trying different things, confirming the limitations he had, possibly picking up heavy things as nothing using Shadow Stalkers powers he had not attempted, however, another thing to add to the list…

Mai clicked her tongue, "It's going to really help in the planning part of our operations if we can nail down what you can do…"

Jordan nodded, still ruminating on the possibilities in his powers, perhaps he'd been a bit lax in power testing.

He shook his head, leaving it for later, clapping his hands together, wiping any dust off them as he turned to Mai.

"Either way that was the last of it, since we're leaving the beds and such for the things already in place at our new home." Jordan said, glad there was already some furnishings in place, without a brute power he certainly wasn't carrying beds and dressers down on his own.

Even if he could affect them into a breaker state it just wasn't viable anyway, even if they waited until the middle of the night - not right in front of the apartment building - let alone viable now, in the middle of the day.

The problem of being in ABB territory was that you never knew if the person walking down the street or peeking out their window would report it to the ABB or not.

Mai nodded, grimacing slightly, as she looked up at the building they'd called home, however crappy it was. "I suppose it's time for the clean up then." She said distastefully.

Jordan looked at her suspiciously, "You have a habit of making sweeping statements that freak me out, you know?" He said, noting that Sun Hee was coming out of the building at the same time, what meager possessions she owned, in her hands. Han was with Jana until it was time to move her to the van they were transporting her in - he wouldn't bother his sister by moving her until they were ready to go.

Mai scoffed, running a hand through her hair, hopping off the back of the truck, "Someone's got to train you to use your brain, you tell me, what are we missing, boss?" Tension was clearly visible in her face, her eyes pinched.

Jordan glanced over at the apartment building, mulling it over, knowing Mai wasn't mocking him, she was serious, there was something they needed to do, and she wanted him to think it through.

He hadn't done a good job of using his head so far since coming to Earth Bet, so he knew Mai was right, he needed to think through every step of a situation if he was going to survive as a crime lord.

It didn't take long at all once he focused on their situation, "Our landlord is scum, both of us leaving immediately… You leaving immediately, it's out of the ordinary, he will pass it on to someone."

Considering Mai's… Relationship with the landlord, he would definitely be upset she was leaving, without notice. Perhaps upset enough to let the ABB know.

Jordan sighed, shoulders slumping slightly, "That's what you mean with clean up, we can't let the landlord report us leaving, or keep records of us at all, not if people might start being interested in me soon." Mai is tightly tied to my identity here, her gaining attention means I do as well.

Because of course the landlord in ABB territory at least marginally dealt with the ABB, paid them off for sure. And there was likely a reason why an ABB cast off like Mai found a home there to begin with.

He was a suspicious character and definitely tied into criminal activity, Jordan knew this as he'd many times intimidated people on his behalf in exchange for a break on the rent.

They'd be out of the way in the trainyards, but it didn't mean they wanted people looking for them, making it harder for them to move around. And if the landlord reported Mai leaving to whoever might be concerned about that, it could lead to difficulties.

Mai nodded seriously, "That's at least one part of the equation, but not all of it." She pursed her lips thoughtfully, "One day the PRT or BBPD will look into us, I'd rather they get perfectly normal information from here, just records of our tenancy, no stories, no notes on under the table deals - nothing of our own personal deals with the landlord. Even such a small thing builds a profile, builds a record of criminal leanings."

"So you need me to kill him."

Sun Hee, having quietly been listening to the conversation since arriving in the middle of it, shook her head, mouthing 'come on', sharing a look with Mai at his statement.

"What!?" He said defensively.

Okay so he had killing as one of the first options too often, but it made sense here.

Mai gestured for Sun Hee to go ahead, her own expression filled with fond exasperation.

"Killing isn't always the solution, you know, boss?" Sun Hee said, frowning minutely, as she cocked her hip and wagged a finger at him, which didn't work out well for her as half the stuff she had seemingly forgotten she was carrying, clattered to the ground.

She'd been a lot more quiet and reserved after popping her killing cherry at the ABB safehouse, so he was glad to see her expressive again. He was surprised she was advocating for leniency though, considering what had set her off into a killing spree in the first place. She should be set to go against Jun, their landlord - because of his similar tastes.

"If you kill him, dontcha think the cops or the ABB will look into the people who just took off?" Sun Hee continued, "If the point is to make it so no one looks twice at you guys leaving, you can't raise a big stink."

Jordan rubbed the back of his head, "Fine, I still want to kill the guy though." He said darkly, "He deserves it for being a sleaze and harming what's mine…" He eyed Mai who shook her head at him, lips upturned just a smidgeon, "But fine, we'll do it your way, I'll just have to kill him in six months or something…"

Mai nodded sharply, "I'll go negotiate with him then." She said with distaste, her face growing stony as if she was preparing herself, shutting down her emotions.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?" Jordan said immediately, stepping in front of her. And she calls me one note - she does the exact same damn thing!

This time Sun Hee backed him up, seemingly ready to tear at her hair, "Oh my god, you're just as bad as him!" She cried out, looking to the sky as if praying for patience.

Okay, maybe not entirely backing me up…

Mai gave them both a steely look, "It's the only way to get him to erase records, especially his secret ones, and to keep quiet about us. It's the last time. I can stomach it." She tried to convince them.

Sun Hee dragged a hand down her face, "Okay, for the first time I definitely feel like the older person here, you both are such teenagers!"

Jordan gave her a dirty look for that comment, because really, with her usual behavior? Before he turned back towards Mai, "Look, I'm not letting you do that, it just isn't happening." He said firmly.

He'd take the small risk in killing him before that. The ABB wouldn't have an easy time finding them, surely. And the BBPD and PRT was a future concern anyway.

"I don't see you two presenting any better plans…" Mai said testily, seemingly massively offended at Sun Hee's comment, her body language confrontational as she stared down the shorter girl.

Sun Hee snorted, "Just because we don't have any doesn't make yours a good one, Mai!" She stressed intently, "We can come up with something, together."

Jordan eyed the short Korean girl, making a realization. "Hey… We do have a Master, right here…"

Before the two girls could descend into an argument, Jordan stopped them with a sharp look, his mind already following the trail of the thought he'd had thanks to Sun Hee.

A way to get rid of the man, and ensure their records were clean.

And to make it even better, this time Mai was the one who wasn't thinking clearly, and he, could show his chops off as the boss,

And save her from her short-sighted stupidity.

How the tables have turned…





The Landlords office,

They hadn't wasted time, they'd locked up the truck, and then they'd trooped off to the office and they'd knocked on the landlord's office door, Mai being the one to do it since they knew he'd open the door for her.

Sure enough, he'd confirmed who it was through the peephole, and then undid over six locks, before opening the door to let Mai in, a lecherous look on his pale face.

As soon as he did and Sun Hee could see his shadow, she Mastered him, disappearing from their senses and memory, but luckily they had their notes taped to their forearms to remind them of her and what she was doing.

… They needed to find a better system than that.

Sun Hee kept the landlord standing in a corner, as Jordan began digging through the physical files, Mai sitting down at his desktop computer, the screen already open for her, saving them time.

Technically, Sun Hee could help as well, but she didn't like taking over the - in her written words - major sleazeball, and wanted to limit how much she had to do while being in control of his body. So she'd just be standing there in the corner. Creepily.

Jordan wasn't sure how that was better, but she was the Master, so… He'd leave her to it, he supposed.

Jordan found their files, letting out a pleased huff on noticing they held only the bare basics, payment information and names, not even ages, occupations, any personal information or mentions of their deals. "Nothing on the physical files, they're perfectly normal." He told Mai, inserting them back.

Well, normal for this kind of slum, any honest business would have much better records. But the BBPD would hardly expect better either if they investigated here.

They were all wearing gloves, even if the likelihood that anything in here would be part of a forensic investigation was low. It was his idea, because again, he wanted to improve on his thinking, not shoot off the hip so much.

A thinker power could really help him out…

Just maybe not Tattletale, he wasn't sure he wanted that much TMI on a daily basis.

"Keep looking, I'm sure he has more, he's been dirty a long time, those files are the ones he keeps out if the cops come calling, no way you'll find anything there." Mai said distractedly, hard at work at building their con.

With the abject confusion in any of Sun Hee's victims once she stopped mastering them, they were going to plant things in his computer and his files, to make Jun believe he needed to run, all without having anything to do with him and Mai.

His files would all show that they had simply moved out beforehand, they'd even backdated it, so if his disappearance was even investigated by the ABB or BBPD, they wouldn't be part of it. Hopefully.

Jun would come out of his confusion, realize their apartments were empty, check his files, see it all laid out, even with physical copies, will he believe he just was tired and confused? Drunk or high? And forgot that he'd gotten the notice already and last month's rent? Or will he assume mastering and the like?

Even in a world with capes, people rationalized things, especially with physical proof right in front of them, Jordan didn't believe it was likely he'd suspect capes. Besides he'd be too busy fearing for his life to worry about his tenants, it was a possibility he wouldn't even notice they were gone before he ran off.

He'd given Mai several stacks of computer programming, design, repair, and hacking skills from his repertoire of stolen knowledge, so she could work over his computer, she probably didn't even need most of that, but he'd made a convincing argument.

He'd snuck accounting in there too, because why not, and Mai did begrudgingly accept that skills were not the same as cape power. Both her and Sun Hee now also had a martial art each under their belt - as well as expert firearms proficiency already, from him giving skills away.

Jordan began looking around the small office, looking for a safe, or hidden space. And his eyes were immediately drawn to the portrait behind his desk, because it was a classic wasn't it?

Besides, there were no bookshelves, so it was literally the only other option for a classic secret space.

"How much you wanna bet he has a safe behind that?" He asked Mai, stepping over.

Mai snorted, "No bet, he's as cliche as can be, down to his porn folder."

"I'm sure I don't want to know." Jordan said, sending a dark look at the silent man stuck in the corner. He carefully lifted the portrait off, even if he wanted to rip it apart and trash the office, he needed to keep everything the same. And wouldn't you know, behind the portrait of some old Asian man he didn't recognize - was the safe.

He eyed his hand, he'd been working at Shadow Stalkers power, trying to succeed in not going full breaker state, he'd had limited success, as it seemed Shadow Stalker had not been able to do that, at least yet, so the knowledge was not with him, so he'd had to try and try again.

He needed to ensure he didn't get so caught up in getting new powers that he forgot that he might be able to do more with what he had.

When it came to trying to perform partial breaker states… It failed half the time, but if it failed, at least all he'd feel was pain while being pushed back out. He concentrated, seeing his arm slowly going into the shadowy breaker state, immediately sticking it through the safe door.

With how haphazard his control of this partial ability was, he didn't want to waste any time.

Now came the tricky part. He focused completely, letting the sound of Mai's typing fade away, as he let the breaker state fall from only his hand, grasping the contents of the safe, immediately going full breaker state, including the things he was holding, as he felt his control beginning to slip. He let out a relieved gasp, as he successfully pulled all the folders and the single bag he'd felt in there, out with him.

Mai turned from where she was subtly changing all the electronic files and building their con, looking pleased as she saw the Ziploc bag of USB sticks. "Give me those." She said, snatching the bag away immediately, "This should be it, everything we'll need, lazy of him to keep it in his safe though…" She peered around the office with sharp eyes, "After you check those files, keep looking, just in case these are all decoys."

Jordan severely doubted a minor crook like this had that level of paranoia. Everyone isn't you, Mai…

"He's just a minor landlord, a dirtbag, sure, but still minor - there's such a thing as too much paranoia, Mai." Jordan admonished, flipping through the files he'd pulled out.

It didn't make for nice reading, both he and Mai were amongst the paper trail of unsavory deals made with tenants going back over a decade. Mai wasn't even the youngest girl forced to make such deals to have a roof over their head…

Fucking pedophiles deserved the worst deaths possible.

"Are you sure we can't kill him? This shit is disgusting." He said, waving one of the folders, "He's been doing this for years, and because this is Brockton fucking Bay, he's gotten away with it!"

He of course removed his and Mai's details from the folders, but it still sat ill with him, he might be a criminal, but this shit was monstrous and even villains should punish it when they saw it.

Mai gave him a considering look, before returning to her work. "Not yet, but if we set this up right, he'll be fleeing for the rest of his life anyway, he'll meet a bad end somewhere."

Jordan made a noise of disgust, "What are you framing him with anyway? We never decided?"

Mai smirked, her scars stretching, the glare of the computer screen reflecting from her eyes as he stepped around to the front of the desk.

"I hacked into his email, and I've buried some fake emails in his inbox from years ago, warning him one of the girls he was abusing was actually the runaway daughter of an Elite member." She said, tapping away at the keyboard viciously.

Jordan flipped through the folders he had, seeing if he could identify the most likely girl to be used in the con, grimacing as he found a picture of a girl that definitely looked like she could have been some rich white runaway.

And if she was a day over thirteen he'd eat his shoes. "He deserves to be Hookwolf'd." He muttered.

Not something he'd ever thought he'd think, but some people just deserved it.

Clicking away at something in a particularly violent seeming way, Mai's smirk grew wider and more vicious, "And now I just added a new email from an ABB contact of his, referencing all the previous ones, allowing him to find them when he looks, warning him the girl has shown up dead, and the Elite are blaming him, and their representative is on their way to Brockton Bay to ask him some pointed questions about his actions in regards to one of theirs."

He deserves worse… Jordan couldn't help but think.

"Is that… Is he even going to believe that? It's a little far-fetched." Jordan said skeptically, sure to make him run, there wasn't any doubt about that, but the Elite? For this weasel?

And Mai would only be using this girl's death, if she actually already knew she was dead. Dammit! What was in those electronic files that's not in these physical ones.

Mai chuckled slightly, managing to even make that sound menacing, "When you change things so that some runaway brat has family in the Elite. Family that she ran away from and that has been searching for her all this time, it suddenly becomes believable that someone might want revenge for anything untoward happening..." She nodded at the folders he'd taken out of the safe, "We'll add it onto his physical copy as well, so when he checks in a panic, he'll find that he always had proof she was related to some big shot in the east coast Elite and he'd just forgotten or skimmed over it."

Jordan walked around the office, trying to see if he could find any other hidden spaces like Mai had asked him, while pondering the situation, he'd known they were framing Jun for something, it had been his idea, just hadn't known what for sure until they were in his system. With his files as they were, it fit, but… "Won't he run to Lung for protection?"

Thinking of the Elite, his first thought was Uppercrust and his force fields, wondering if he could manage to find his way to the man in New York, something to add to long term planning.

Defensive force fields would help him make Jana a lot safer.

Mai shook her head, scoffing loudly, "He's not important enough to dare to go near Lung, let alone go beg him for protection from capes or their 'representatives'."

Jordan nodded slowly, "So he'll likely run. And we've changed all our files, for anyone that comes looking for anything. It seems we got what we wanted then."

Not a completely satisfying end, because the guy deserved a painful death, but it did sever them from ABB territory without anyone else looking too heavily into them or finding anything untoward.

"Once he's out of Brockton Bay though?" Jordan asked leadingly.

Mai shrugged, "Put a hit on him for all I care, he'll die in a ditch anyway, regardless of our help, he'll get what's coming for him."

Jordan nodded slowly, still wishing he could go Jack Slash on the creep that had turned out to be much worse than he'd already expected. "That will have to do, I suppose." He acknowledged.

Can't win them all… Jana is more important than revenge for an already dead girl, and for Mai, who seems to be happy with this resolution.

"We'll still be here awhile, make yourself comfortable, the USBs will take awhile to go through." Mai said wryly, waving him to the chair in front of the desk.

Jordan sighed, sitting down, not having had any luck anyway on finding anything in the small cramped office other than the safe, he'd have to reinsert everything after they were done too, so the guy wouldn't suspect a thing.

Killing people would be so much easier…





Hours later,

Jordan exited the small apartment built into the large warehouse, having checked to see that Jana was settled in alright.

It really was a godsend that they had this, even if Mai's backstory was filled with horrors, her father supplying this building for her dream, only to turn around and betray her in horrific ways.

Training areas, a motor pool, apartments and barracks, a medical area - if wholly unstocked. Everything they could need for a while going forward was here, and he hadn't even explored the sublevel or the storage areas yet.

Someone out there was looking out for him, which made him wary for when the boot would come down. Running into Mai, was a godsend. This location added onto his run of luck, even Sun Hee could be labeled as good fortune, even if he'd wasted regeneration on her grandfather.

Then going through the USBs from their landlord, they'd found out why the BBPD never sniffed around, despite all the missing person cases that likely originated from his building.

He had video of a cop engaged in 'illicit activities' with someone in his apartment building, obviously a case of enticing the cop into a trap. That cop was now Deputy chief of police, John Haines - and that blackmail material was now theirs.

Something that could be incredibly useful once their gang got going properly.

All this good luck was suspicious to Jordan however. Because he knew the setting. And literally no one in Earth Bet had this kind of luck. At least not for very long.

He walked into the large communal area that was set up near the barracks, frowning as he heard Sun Hee squeal, as she danced around with some sort of black bodysuit.

"What's this?" He asked, looking around and seeing dozens of outfits laying around. His heart sank, oh, no, cape bullshit….

Mai saw his look and stabbed a finger at him, "No! I see that look, you know you can't ignore this. You're our boss and whether you like it or not, this is how capes work!"

Jordan rolled his eyes, but acknowledged the point. "Fine, yes, I dislike the whole idea of cape culture, but I agree I might need to follow some parts of it to make this work." Begrudgingly, because it will be too much of a pain in the ass to explain to literally every being on the planet why I'm not, if I don't…

"I'm guessing you had costume materials stashed away here?" He asked, letting it go, acknowledging he'd need to go for at least the minimum amount of effort.

Sun Hee cheerfully answered instead of Mai, "She has tons of stuff, I'll just need to learn to sew properly and stuff and I can make my own costume just like this!" She held up the pitch black material of a costume that was obviously intended for a more… Developed woman.

"You really got stocked up with most everything you'd need in the future, huh?" Jordan asked Mai, shaking his head at Sun Hee's choice, never having expected the mostly cheerful girl, going full black for coloring.

Although they did say, once you go black you never go back…

Mai's smile was bittersweet, her fingers stroking a spandex type of material in her lap, "I've always been the prepare first kind of girl." She admitted.

Jordan knew it would come in handy as she helped him organize his criminal enterprise. Focusing on Sun Hee as she continued to mutter about sewing and costume design. "Here, sewing." He said, waving a hand, which wasn't really necessary, and gave her the ability of master seamstress he'd stolen from a senile old woman at the long term care facility.

"Oooh, I can work with this! Thanks boss!" She chirped, hugging the material she was holding, tight to her chest.

"You're welcome." Jordan said, resigned to getting started on this whole costume thing.

Mai gave him a sweet smile, eyes intent, "So, we're hitting the ABB again soon, so what's your cape name, boss, hmm?" She gestured to their surroundings, "We have our base, so we're ready to go a bit loud, but you need some definite sprucing up first personally."

Sun Hee immediately bounced up, a hand in the air, "Oh, oh! I know! Punisher! Apocalypse! Doctor Doom!"

Jordan just sighed, knowing this entire thing was going to be one huge headache, "Stop naming comic book people." He grumbled. "I'll pick my own damn name."

Both women gave him a look of skepticism that deeply offended him.

"I'll get it done, you worry about getting a costume and name for yourself, Mai help her take it seriously." Jordan told Sun Hee, adding Mai to it to ensure it wouldn't be something silly.

"I'm the boss, I'll make my own bullshit up."





One week later,

"Are we ready?" Mai asked him quietly, her hands loosely holding onto the steering wheel of the large van they had used to get close to their target.

It was also their escape vehicle, as they didn't intend to leave alone.

Jordan looked ahead through the binoculars he was using, seeing a lot of activity around the rundown looking building they were hitting tonight, the darkness almost total around them as the streetlights were all out, hiding their van as well. Not so around the brothel however, there it was all well lit, excessively so one might even say, and the men standing outside didn't even bother to hide that they were armed.

They all proudly wore red and green, feeling safe this deep into Lungs territory.

Lung, however, was again clashing with the Empire 88 tonight, Jordan and his group having been ready to go at any time over the last few days, just waiting for the news of Lung being elsewhere.

There were other smaller hidden brothels around Brockton Bay that were easier to hit, but that would also ensure the ABB guarded the others more religiously after, and that this location would become a fortress.

It was now or never.

With Mai's information, and contacts, it had just made sense to take on the largest one, taking advantage of the gang war. It would be madness if Lung could arrive and put a stop to them, but now that he was busy, it was a great possibility to damage the ABB, while also busting out people Mai had known before, people likely willing to get revenge, or at the very least, had nowhere to go and would work for Jordan.

In whatever capacity they wanted or felt able to do, he didn't intend to pressgang anyone. With his skill giving capabilities, their current skills wouldn't matter anyway, only their willingness and potential for loyalty.

Of course, this was stepping out, he still intended to use Grue's power and blame it on him, but in case he was discovered, he'd actually begrudgingly done minimal steps to adopt a cape uniform.

He'd gone for a sweeping cloak/cape ala Doctor Doom, in a dark green so dark it could almost be mistaken for black, attached around his neck by a medallion, blank for now, but if he ever decided on a tag for his gang, he'd likely add it to the medallion. Thanks to Sun Hee's mechanical skills, he had a rebreather covering his lower face instead of a mask, good for adhering to cape sensibilities and for preventing any poison or gas from being inhaled outside his breaker state.

Under those simple forced additions to adhere to the cape games, he simply wore dark baggy cargo pants and a simple dark sweater, with combat boots to finish it off, no complicated armor, or shiny target painted on him.

"I'm ready." He said, the voice coming out more mechanical and darker through the rebreather. He knocked on the dividing wall between the cab and the back of the van, "Ready?" He asked Sun Hee.

"....I can do this." The reply came after a moment of hesitation.

Not exactly the most inspiring agreement, but he knew she'd firm up once they were in action, with how horrible the ABB were, and her previous reaction to it, she wouldn't flake out on him.

Like him, she'd been forced to get an actual cape uniform, even if she had actually been excited about it, unlike him. If everything went alright, no one should ever even see her anyway, but she had insisted on living up to her spooky persona.

Her uniform was not too unlike Coil's, something which had discomforted Jordan. The Korean girl had a pitch black all encompassing skin tight uniform that covered her head to toes, with only a dark set of goggles for her eyes setting it apart. She insisted on being called Wraith. Despite the fact there already existed a cape by that name.

She shouldn't be in much danger, but he was still annoyed she'd refused any armor over her soft bits due to 'aesthetics', She wasn't supposed to be seen!? Why did her look matter over armor?

He was different, he was actually bulletproof at a thought. He'd had the sense at least to not mention that she didn't really have much 'aesthetic' to show off. He'd learned that much at least.

His uniform also didn't outline… Everything.

Capes were fucking weird and exhibitionistic.

Of course, he'd also had to pick a name, at Mai's and Sun Hee's insistence, because 'it's how it's done' of course. Eventually he'd acquisited, if only to avoid the PRT choosing something dumb once he was discovered.

Which if things went poorly tonight, could be tonight.

But he couldn't huddle at home and not do anything for risk of early discovery, that would be worse than overextending himself. People's first thought won't be that he gains powers by killing anyway, not immediately.

And their plan was good, they'd pull this off.

"I'll wait here, ready for our potential recruits." Mai said, patting her shotgun, there in case someone would come bother her during the insanity, "Knock 'em dead, Apex."

He nodded, stepping out of the car, the name something Mai had come up with, Apex from Apex predator, because he was the kind of cape other capes would fear. Just like the Fairy Queen taking on the mantle of royalty, Mai had given him the mantle of Apex predator. The Cape that hunted and ate other capes.

Wraith had gotten her name and costume, for playing up her stranger angle, hiding the Master aspect to those uninitiated. Because Masters were feared everywhere - and targeted quickly in any engagement, often lethally, no matter the rules.

His name… He didn't live up to it fully yet. But one day, every cape on Earth Bet would fear him. And he'd grasp their powers and use them to survive or escape this hellworld.

As soon as he got close enough that he was barely in sight from the brothel, he raised his arms, dark smoke wafting up them, before he gestured forward, and a cloud of dark smoke billowed forward like an unstoppable tidal wave, engulfing the brothel, the beginning screams of warnings by the guards cut off as they were enveloped.

Apex pulled out two guns from his shoulder holsters, and didn't waste time, running forward, having no trouble seeing in the circumference of his own power.

He came up to an ABB member screaming into a phone who's signal no longer worked, executing him with a shot to the back of his head, the guard standing just a few feet away jumped, sound muffled in his power, but not completely stopped, the loud gunshot from such a close proximity coming through.

It didn't help the man, even though he made an attempt to swing his gun around to fire at the direction he thought he'd heard a sound from, Apex simply stepped aside, leveling one of his guns, blowing the man's face away as he fired with his other gun, getting a third guard who had begun firing indiscriminately, taking care of a fourth guard in a hail of bullets, saving Apex the trouble.

The two last men were scrambling for the imagined safety of the interior, feeling their way across the wall, when Apex simply stepped up and executed them as well.

This wasn't how capes did things, not really. Not unless you called yourself Jack Slash or the Butcher.

Apex didn't care, these people were beyond scum, happily taking advantage of and using people until they're broken husks and then disposing of them without a care. They didn't get to say I was following orders, or that times were tough and they did what they had to do. They got him as their consequence. And a bullet was mercy compared to what he wanted to do to people that would see his sister as nothing but merchandise.

He double checked his forearm, the plan written down as sparsely as possible. They knew the girls were kept in the basement when not 'on duty' so he pulled back his power, allowing Wraith the opportunity to get into the basement, his power unfortunately blinding her as well as their enemies.

That was fine in this instance however, Wraith could deal with the men that were in the basement, and then get the women out, he'd take care of the rest of the building, and save the unfortunate women who were stuck working at the moment.

He reloaded his guns, eyeing the door ahead of him.

If the ABB weren't completely moronic, they would fire everything they had at anyone coming through that door. If they could notice it was opened.

Luckily, he could go bulletproof. With a simple flex of his will, he turned into shadow, flowing through the door, the men inside none the wiser, even though he doubted they would have heard the sound of the door opening anyway.

He arrived to find a dozen men arrayed in a somewhat decent attempt at a firing line, all nervously waiting, straining their senses, guns unerringly pointed forward, most of them even managing to aim at the door.

The door, he noticed, had a couple of beer cans laying in front of it, to make noise when the door opened, so someone in here was above a regular mook at least. Not that it was going to help them.

He looked around at the kitschy interior, someone must have seen a brothel in a b type movie once and gone to great lengths to be as unoriginal as possible. It was gaudy and kitschy, with red shag carpets, Arabian nights kind of cloth screens dividing areas, pillows literally everywhere for no particular reason. Even the lighting was tinted red, to give the whole room a, to Apex, disgusting and macabre feel.

Against the far wall, several clients were hiding, spread far apart, the cowards all having the same idea separately, to get away from where they remembered the entrance was.

Several girls lay where they were, appearing either drugged out, or simply… Not in a state to care anymore. He bristled at the signs of abuse, bruises that he could see on exposed skin.

I picked the right target…

Getting some of the girls out would be a problem if they were this out of it though.

He could spy one of the men in the back, continuously trying to use his phone, cursing in Cantonese as it wouldn't get a signal.

"You can't hear me, you won't ever even know why this is happening." He said slowly, walking around the men waiting nervously for his arrival, "But this was a long time coming. And you all deserve so much worse."

He stepped behind the man that was obviously in charge, calmly putting the muzzle of his gun to the back of his head.

Immediately the man froze, gulping loudly, at least to Apex, no one else heard a thing.

"Ah… M-mister Grue, I-I… I h-have m-mon-ey! W-women, any-anything you'd l-like!" He stammered out, not daring to move a finger.

Apex scowled beneath his rebreather, it wasn't surprising the man would offer everything he could for his life.

That was just human nature.

What annoyed him was that for a moment, he'd hesitated, wondering if he was going too far.

He pulled the trigger, the back of the manager's head exploding, as he aligned his other gun at the next man, and fired.

This is Earth Bet, the only way to any kind of salvation is through seas of blood.

The Slaughterhouse Nine showed that. Cauldron showed that.

Khepri showed that.

Peace is a lie.






With Wraith,

Wraith exited the van strolling slowly down the street, knowing Apex would block sight and sound any second, so she wasn't in any danger.

She pouted slightly at the idea no one would get to see her uniform, she'd thought it was absolutely kickass, but gramps, Apex and Mai (Ugh, she needs a codename!) all hated it.

She admitted it was a bit of a pain to put on and take off, but it really fit well with the whole stranger thing, and being like a ghost. If someone saw her they'd immediately think, yeah that's definitely Wraith!

Well, they would once Apex would let them get actual rep instead of using misdirection all the time, she thought with some irritation. At this rate Grue was going to be considered the badass of all badasses and the dude wasn't even real.

The dark cloud of - shut up in your face - went up. And she strolled into it, just by the edge, enough that no one could spot her, but far enough no gangbangers were going to accidentally shoot her. She had her own gun at the small of her back, but using that was not what she was here for, It was just in case she ran into someone while outside a shadow.

After a few minutes, the cloud lessened, the front cleared no doubt, and Wraith jogged forward, approaching the basement window, knowing Apex would have just released them from his power. She couldn't wait long if she wanted to prevent anyone calling Oni Lee or even Lung, although she doubted a big 'ole raging fire dragon would pick up the phone.

Easily spotting a shadow through the glass, she moved inside the building, immediately jumping from the shadow of a large weapons cabinet, to the shadow of the lanky Asian man with a topknot of all things, that was frantically dialing his phone, the other men all grasping weapons nervously, watching the stairs to the first floor.

Taking a second to familiarize herself with her surroundings once she had him in her grasp, she identified eight targets, and several rows of cells, all filled with women, all at least allowed a cot, but nothing else, just living to sleep and waking up to serve.

She used the man she'd taken control of, tossing the cellphone he'd been about to use at the head of the nearest man.

It smacked him in the back of his head, and he turned around, cursing, "What the fuck, man?" Eyes widening as she raised the manager's gun, painting the other men in his brain matter as she pulled the trigger, already jumping to the shadow of a man at the edge of the room immediately after firing.

The manager looked very confused, staring at the gun in his hand, as he was filled with lead, several of the men having fired at the same time, enraged at his betrayal.

"Someone call Oni Lee!" A stocky man with a pointed beard called out, stomping towards the cell, "The rest of you, start taking hostages, just in case."

Oh, that's NOT going to happen, buddy, Wraith thought, with any hesitation she'd held from before the mission annihilated the second she entered the building and pulled on her Wraith persona fully.

Mister initiative suddenly lost his head, due to her meat puppet placing his gun to it and firing, Wraith not wasting the time for the inevitable conclusion, jumping into another man's shadow even as the scream of "Cape!" Echoed across the basement as several of the survivors ran for the door, giving her plenty of opportunities to gun them down as they left their back's open.

Several of the women were wide awake and screaming in fear at this point, as men were gunned down mercilessly ahead of them, others cheered, not caring if their death had arrived, as long as they got to watch as the men before them died.

Wraith exited the shadow of the last man alive, his confused eyes staring at her costumed face as she drew the gun from her back, aligning it, letting the last bastard have the personal touch. "I hope they have all the pineapples for your ass in hell, you monster." She said, pulling the trigger.

She idly looked around the room afterwards, feeling slightly sick as she noted all the… gunk, and blood. Killing was so disgusting and dirty. But it was necessary, she told herself, placing her gun back into the holster at the small of her back, turning towards the women, those conscious anyway, raising her hands to show she meant no harm, as most of them reared back in fright.

"I'm Wraith, I'm here to rescue you." She said, a tinge of excitement behind the words, because no matter what bad things she had to do, she was definitely a hero, saving these people.

"You're who?" A white and attractive teen girl asked warily, keeping several women behind her, her arms held out to keep them back.

The numerous needle marks stood out clearly against her pale skin.

Wraith cocked her head, happy to see someone willing to stand up for others, even in this horrible place. "I'm Wraith, here to save you, our gang is going to let you choose whatever you want to do, go free, join, whatever."

The girl stared her down, looking unimpressed, hiding her fear pretty well behind attitude, "Aren't you a little short to be in a gang?" She snarked.

Wraith wondered if it was strictly necessary to bring everyone back with them.





With Apex,

Three floors. Three floors of people, almost all of them ABB.

Apex knew his threat level would rise from this, that the PRT would devote resources to finding out more about 'Grue' which had been something he wanted to avoid originally.

But, he couldn't let this shit stand. Not when Mai had been able to show him some of what had been on those USBs, the ages of girls going missing, being sold abroad or interned here, in a brothel too close to the dragon for the PRT or BBPD to even touch.

Their landlord had been part of a network of men who sourced young girls and women for kidnapping. Letting snatch teams know who and where.

He really regretted not killing him, but he was long gone now, fled in the same night they'd left.

At this rate, he might as well hurry up and grab Panacea, because he didn't know if he could wait, not while shit like this was going on, not right in front of him. Without even missing a step, he executed a client who was crawling on the floor, begging for mercy, utterly lost within the confines of his power.

They'd never get the carpet clean after this.

He wasn't a good person by any stretch, considering he was literally killing his way through a building right now. He'd hardly go on a crusade around the world to save women wherever they were abused. He wasn't a hero.

But right here, in his front yard?

This shit stopped now.

His gang would ensure it. Just like Marquis had held rules sacred to him that had allowed him to control most of Brockton Bay, he'd do the same, just with more success.

No more sex slavery. No more forced addictions, no more underage girls forced into prostitution.

It ended.

He kicked in the door to the manager's office on the third floor, allowing the darkness to fade away, as every client and ABB mook except the guy in charge, had all been killed.

"Call Lung." He ordered, growling, both guns aligned on the stick-thin and white haired old man that sat calmly at the desk.

"Anything else?" He drawled sarcastically, while dialing, not appearing bothered at all by the cape holding him at gunpoint.

The call went to voicemail, not surprisingly due to Lung already fighting, although it might even be over by this point, Apex thought.

"Tell him what's going on." Apex ordered, gesturing with one of his guns.

"My lord dragon, this is Toshiro calling from the Red Lotus, where a man I can only assume to be Grue, has rudely invaded your most auspicious holding." He gave Apex a sneering and contemptuous look, "He is currently holding me at gunpoint, so I assume he has his own worthless words to share."

Apex wondered if the man hadn't realized exactly what had happened in the rest of the building for him to be there. Did he just think he covered everything in darkness and then took all this time to find the way up to the third floor?

Either way, he was on the clock, "Lung, your men are dead, the girls are gone, the flesh trade ends now, or I'll keep coming back and taking all that's yours."

Toshiro spluttered, face growing white as he finally realized what kind of situation he was in, and that Lung wasn't here, his reputation not enough for probably the first time in years. "You can't do that, it's LUNG!"

"Sayonara." Apex said, putting a bullet through his forehead, and another through the phone seconds later.

Yeah…

That's escalation.

I guess I've adapted to the setting.






They'd just finished loading over two dozen women into the back of the van, not a comfortable amount of space at all. However it would only be temporary at least and they did have to get them out here somehow, and the van was simply the most inconspicuous. That's when Wraith called out from atop the van, where she was keeping watch using the binoculars, "Oni Lee! Six 'o clock!"

"Go!" Apex shouted to Mai, who didn't hesitate to put the pedal to the metal, roaring out of there with screeching tires. Wraith disappearing for a moment, before reappearing inside the van passenger seat, she tossed Apex a salute, and he knew she would ensure nothing happened to Mai and the slaves they'd rescued.

Without hesitation, Apex pulled out both guns and began firing at Oni Lee's approaching figure, trying to draw attention away from the van. Warning shots really, because he didn't actually want to hit him.

Oni Lee teleported across several rooftops, seemingly ignoring his fire, poised to follow the van, no doubt correctly figuring out that if their brothel was hit, the van would hold the merchandise.

Cursing, Apex sent forward a wall of dark smoke in-between Oni Lee and the van, obstructing his sight.

Ever so slowly, the Oni turned to regard him, "Grue…" He called out, his voice slightly guttural.

At least he was leaving the van alone, focusing instead on the man both the ABB and the Empire wanted dead.

Apex knew Grues power was about as good of a counter to Oni Lee as any, but he also faced the problem that he really couldn't risk actually hitting the man, because even accidentally killing Oni Lee would be very bad for him.

So while keeping his screen between the departing van and Oni Lee, he ran off in the other direction, forcing the ABB lieutenant to choose. And as he'd thought, he chose the path of least resistance, teleporting after him, instead of going around his block.

Of course, this way, Oni Lee ended up ahead of him in no time, and he just barely covered the area around him in smoke before Oni Lee could teleport to his side and suicide bomb him. Still, inside the dark cloud, he turned into his breaker state, and good thing he did, as the entire area began to be rocketed by explosions as Oni Lee continued to make copies, all of them tossing grenades into the cloud.

He expanded the cloud, the dark smoke billowing out, engulfing Oni Lee, only for that Oni Lee to turn into a cloud of white ash, carried away by the wind.

"Fuck…" He muttered, beginning to move again, keeping in his breaker state, even as the cloud made by his power moved with him.

Periodically grenades would fly into his sphere of influence, destroying everything around him, the road and facades of buildings near him taking damage as Oni Lee pursued him doggedly, even if he couldn't use his usual suicide routine.

Knowing the van would be long gone now, he phased through the door of a building, going through it to exit onto another street, letting his power dissipate on the other side, going through another building to yet another street only keeping enough darkness to cover his form. Oni Lee would have lost him now surely, and hopefully would spend time looking around instead of doing something stupid.

Explosions rang out, and then the screaming started, Apex grinding his teeth together. You motherfucker! He thought, this is why we can't have nice things in Brockton Bay!

He blared out his power again, the dark cloud seeping down the street, drawing the suicide bombers attention - so he'd stop bombing civilian homes to draw him out.

And then the chase was on again. Oni Lee indiscriminately blowing up everything around him, despite the fact they were in ABB territory!

Apex despaired for the idiocy inherent in most capes, what was the point of a gang that destroyed their own holdings and people?

Apex took cover behind a parked car, eyes to the sky, guns ready, as he let his power continue to flow down the street as if he was still running.

He couldn't risk killing Oni Lee, but he had to do something to get the other man off his ass. And without revealing too much.

He quickly spotted Oni Lee teleporting onto a roof, fairly certain it must be the real one, and then had to hold back a curse, as he realized he wasn't good enough of a shot to wing someone on a rooftop with a handgun from street level.

The Oni Lee at the rooftop disappeared, leaving a clone behind that soon dissolved into ashes, thankfully not blowing up the roof out of spite this time.

He couldn't keep pushing his power this far away from him, and the cloud was already thinning out, he peeked around the car to see if Oni Lee was out of sight, regretfully deciding he couldn't save any more civilian casualties and needed to leave to put an end to this all.

"Plink. Plink." He heard behind him, and only his automatic reaction to go into his breaker state saved him, as Oni Lee dispersed into ash behind him, but not before blowing up the car and the entire area around Apex in a fiery blaze.

Shit, shit, shit! Apex thought as he took off again, destroying Oni Lee's line of sight by having Grues darkness power literally explode out of him, covering the entire area again.

He fucking saw, but it was a clone that then died? Does he remember?

He took off again, heading away from ABB territory. The demon didn't care about blowing it up anyway, so perhaps moving towards areas more heavily protected by Empire or Protectorate forces, Oni Lee would back off finally.

He'd just have to be careful to not run into anyone while in his breaker state.

At least the mission had been a success.

If only he'd have some minions with a sniper rifle right about now…

BOOM! A deafening explosion went off in front of him.

Which was quickly followed by parts of a building falling down in front of him, as Oni Lee blew it up, trying to find any way to harm him. His clones teleporting around, leaving more and more of him behind, all of them blowing up around Apex, even diving into his darkness bubble to blow up inside.

Completely pointlessly.

This is getting frustrating…





Forty five minutes later,

Apex let out a breath, settling down on a rooftop overlooking an alley, still remaining in his breaker state, just beyond relieved to have gotten away from Oni Lee, and feeling a tad guilty for how many deaths the incident had likely caused, as Oni Lee chased him across town, dropping grenades pointlessly.

Finally he'd been drawn off as they'd literally ran right past Armsmaster, who prioritized Oni Lee due to the death toll, allowing Apex to slink away, hidden in the depths of his darkness.

The pointless chase had finally ended.

It's not like Oni Lee had been able to harm Apex as he was, but even discovering his breaker state was less than ideal, Lung could likely draw some parallels between him and 'Grue' as it was, and if he knew what Shadow Stalkers powers were… Someone in Brockton Bay might be on to what his real power was.

Lung was not exactly the ideal one to know, but it was still better than the PRT.

Hopefully Oni Lee was so broken down and destroyed inside that he'd only be able to report - engaged black dude with shadow powers - limiting the fallout to another sighting of 'Grue'.

With it being nighttime, no civilians should have gotten a good enough look to identify his powers, so he should be safe there.

Either way, in the future, if he was going to continue hitting ABB holdings, he needed to exercise more caution.

Might be worth it to hit a few Empire ones for a while, to let the ABB off the hook for a moment, before he accidentally revealed everything, hitting them while their guard was up.

Oni Lee might not be able to even properly pass on anything, he wasn't sure how much of a person was in there anymore, but regular ABB grunts seeing him and surviving to get away, could definitely expose him.

He was about to take off into the night again, when Miss Militia stumbled into the alleyway, her uniform cut up in places, small amounts of blood visible. Apex froze in place above her, not wanting to move an inch and draw her attention.

"Console? Do you read me, console? Intercepted Hookwolf, Cricket and Stormtiger at Johnson and Blair, can you read me?" She tapped at her ear for a few more moments, before muttering something almost inaudible in another language.

It sounded filthy. Think of the children, MM!

For running into three heavy hitting Empire capes, she looked good with just those minor injuries to her name, her power fluctuating between different handguns as she kept trying to reach someone, eventually taking a phone out of her pocket.

Apex still didn't dare to move, sinking into the building might work, or there could be something electrical in the ceiling just where he was passing through and he'd expose himself… Miss Militia would definitely recognize Shadow Stalkers power if she saw him, so it was a less than ideal situation.

Luckily most people didn't actually look up on a regular basis, even in a city where several capes could fly.

Although, considering Glory Girl had an entire forum dedicated to upskirt shots, plenty of people did look up, just at the wrong things.

It shouldn't matter here, Miss Militia had no reason to suspect someone in the sky or on the roof, as long as he kept still and quiet.

" -Drove them off, Velocity was called away right before by console due to a hostage situation with the Merchants, no, just minor injuries, they withdrew due to injuries sustained by Stormtiger, yes, I'm well aware." Miss Militia was speaking into her phone, neatly explaining to Apex as well as the PRT how she was alone, when they were supposed to patrol in pairs.

She's alone.

It hit Apex suddenly, he had Miss Militia, alone. With her having no idea he was there, in an ambush position right above her.

She'd driven off Hookwolf, Cricket and Stormtiger on her own.

It wasn't capturing them, sure. But it was her against three capes and she got them to turn tail and run. Probably by overwhelming firepower.

The things he could do with a mix of Militias power and Shadow Stalkers…

Let alone the amount of work he could do if he didn't have to sleep anymore.

Should he?

Could he?






Author's note:

So yet another chapter where no Cape dies. Although maybe it's in the future…

Would it be wise to go for it? Good power, Noctis cape too, definitely an escalation.

Will he or won't he?

Guess you'll have to read the next chapter to find out?

So what's your thoughts on Wraith and Apex? First one to obfuscate the Master angle, and Sun Hee going with 'its cool'.

With the Apex name, well the thought came from Sophia really, the whole predator and prey thing and she was his first victim after all.

What's more Apex predator than the man that hunts capes?

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus

patreon.com/JollyHippopotamus
 
Chapter 7: A Gun to the Head.
Here's chapter 7: A Gun to the Head

Although an outline for the entire story already exists, this chapter could have gone a different direction - I might lose some readers for the choice, but ultimately I felt it fit what I've already set up.

Whether that is to everyone's satisfaction or not, it is what it is.

This is Worm, so warnings for death, destruction, depressing and disgusting shit and Nazi language.

Standard disclaimer - Worm belongs to Wildbow, it is not mine, I am simply playing in the kiddie pool.





With Mai and Sun Hee,

It was a tense drive back to base, they half expected to have Oni Lee pop up with a grenade in their face, even with Apex dealing with him.

Thankfully that reality didn't materialize, but it didn't erase all their worries. They both had belief in Apex, albeit to differentiating levels - but Oni Lee was literally the boogeyman in these parts, there was just an instinctive revulsion and fear attached to his involvement.

"He'll be okay." Sun Hee said out loud, not sure if she was speaking to Mai, or herself, as she peered suspiciously out the window from her passenger seat, looking for any sign of an explosion.

All that she could see instead was the familiar and depressing sights of her home city, as they drove into what was basically no man's land, heading to their home base.

She felt the weight of the city's decay pressing down on her, reminding her why she chose to follow Apex in the end, becoming a villain. She owed him, that wasn't in question, but saving her grandfather or not - becoming a supervillain wasn't really a fair deal. She'd had her own reasons in the end.

Even if she'd jumped in both feet first without thinking things through.

The truck rumbled over potholes and cracked asphalt, the engine's hum the only sound breaking the oppressive silence, Mai not immediately answering her, her pinched eyes on the road. Dilapidated buildings loomed on either side, their skeletal frames and broken windows displaying how hopeless this part of Brockton Bay really was.

Graffiti covered the crumbling walls, a chaotic tapestry of tags and messages, some defiant, others despairing - most from gangs that didn't even exist anymore. The lost and poor drowning in the hopeless miasma that was this shit hole of a city, Sun Hee thought, anger flaring through her.

Wherever she looked, she saw only despair and a lack of care and hope. Here and there had been attempts to revitalize, their attempts now only existing to highlight the emptiness and neglect even further.

They drove past abandoned cars, their windows smashed and bodies rusted, As they passed a particularly desolate block, the hulking silhouette of a once-grand factory came into view, its towering chimneys now crumbling monuments of a better time, a time her grandfather had told her of, a time that sounded like a fairy tale, because Sun Hee had never seen anything like it now. Weeds and vines crept up the walls of the factory, nature slowly reclaiming what humanity had abandoned.

And that was the whole point. The point of why Sun Hee had taken the final step. Joined Jordan fully, signing on to his plan instead of just being a silent follower, her minimal due for his work saving her only family. It's why she become a murderer, even if the people she'd killed totally deserved it…

Because they'd been abandoned.

The heroes, the government, they could say what they wanted in PR events, but the place Sun Hee had lived in… The parts of the city near the docks, the train yards, that they were traveling through… They'd abandoned them.

Whether through rules, cowardice, money, or something else, they'd chosen to just leave a large part of the city to die, not even attempting to make it better.

As one of those abandoned, Sun Hee had realized that really, criminals were the only ones who could make it better.

She hated the likes of Lung and Kaiser… But for their people…

Life was better. For their gangs. Life was better. It was just a proven fact.

They risked death in a gang war but this was Brockton's Bay... Everyone in this area of town - risked death everyday anyway. The difference was that if you were in a gang, you could actually live a little, have a sense of camaraderie, a purpose.

Not just brokenly toiling away in a pointless race against homelessness or worse. Cowering under your bed everyday, hoping things wouldn't get worse then already living without any hope was.

Sun Hee was lucky. She had her grandfather and his skills had ensured a steady income, it had ensured that she gained some skills to follow that in the future - before it all burned down.

But she'd seen her neighbors, the neighborhood. Had seen what girls had to do to survive, how boys transformed from mama's boys into caricatures of monsters, just to survive the harsh realities of no jobs, no home, no future - only drugs or violence the answer to their search for any kind of meaning.

If Apex… No, Jordan… If he was going to make a gang that didn't sink to the same depravity as Lung, or the Merchants… Sun Hee was going to back him all the way. Because it might not be like living in her grandfather's fairy tales about white picket fences, a career and family… But anything was better than the hopeless vista she saw now.

Sun Hee glanced back through the rearview mirror, catching the wary eyes of the rescued women. They, too, were likely used to the desolation, their expressions a mix of fear and resignation - no real hope, despite being saved. She knew this drive was more than just a journey to safety; it was a stark reminder of the reality they faced - a city broken by violence and neglect, no doubt they were thinking of what they would do, where they would go.

Sun Hee knew some would even think of going back, without a better alternative. Because a roof and food was better than walking the streets and selling yourself anyway, only this time to some junkie - for something to make you forget your life for a moment.

Every single one of her friends growing up, had slowly disappeared, into drugs, the sex trade, gangs, or just… Disappeared.

This… This is why Apex is right, she thought, not used to lingering on heavier thoughts, seeing everything around her growing up, she'd always put on a loud, cheery positive attitude. Because if she didn't. She'd always be crying. The city wouldn't create a better life for her, so she'd had to create it herself through positive thinking.

And now here she was, actually improving lives, just a few, but it mattered.

Ending the sex slavery… If it took criminals to do it. Well, then the criminals were just better people in Sun Hee's opinion.

"Do you think he will be back soon?" Sun Hee asked Mai, as they entered the familiar stretch of road (for a definition of the word road) leading up to their hideout.

Mai, whose knuckles were white as she held the wheel tightly, responded self assuredly, "Of course he will, he might have to lead Oni Lee on a bit of a chase, but he's invulnerable when he wants to be, so a dinky grenade isn't going to harm him."

Despite the surety in her words, her face still held that pinched expression. Sun Hee knew Mai could be really scary, and honestly… A bit of a bitch. But the worry that was clear in her posture and eyes, soothed her a little. Mai cared. And that's why their gang would be way better than the rest.

Minutes later they pulled into the loading dock, letting the girls out, Sun Hee having taken her mask off, because no one wanted to see a scary face - which had needed her whole uniform off because of how she designed it, she'd have to fix that... It was a risky choice perhaps to take it off, but Mai hadn't sounded too worried about bringing them back to base either - convinced they all wouldn't sell them out after being saved.

Sun Hee… Hoped she was right.

It had seemed oddly optimistic from Mai of all people, but she was totally willing to go with it, especially as it meant she could smile properly at everyone, and not scare them.

They weren't very quick about coming out of the back of the truck though, seemingly fearing something worse still.

Eventually the woman who'd made fun of Sun Hee's height, stepped forward, a challenging look on her face, like she was just waiting for the shoe to drop, the other women tentatively following her.

Sun Hee took a deep breath, stepping forward to address the women as they hesitantly exited the truck. She tried to project calm and reassurance, even though the swirling thoughts in her mind made her feel anything but. She'd have preferred it if Mai did this bit, but the younger girl had said Sun Hee just came across much more personable and trustworthy.

So even though she might massively mess this up, it was up to her to welcome them and make them feel like they were safe here, with Mai at her back to fix any screw ups from how her mouth sometimes got away from her.

She wished Jordan was here. He'd probably say something dumb, but at least it wouldn't be her suddenly in charge!

Mai stood beside her, arms crossed, her expression guarded yet determined. Sun Hee appreciated her presence; it was a silent confirmation that she wasn't alone in this, and settled her nerves a little.

"Thank you for trusting us so far," Sun Hee began, her voice gentle, "I know this is overwhelming and probably really scary. But you're safe here. We're not like the people who… Took you."

Inwardly she grimaced, even as she kept an open and warm expression on her face. Great job idiot! Remind them of what they've been through from the start!

The girl who had spoken up earlier, and had been the first out of the truck, stepped forward, her eyes narrowing slightly. "What's the catch? You say we're safe, but what do you want from us?" Her voice had an odd accent she couldn't quite place, but Sun Hee was glad someone was willing to talk, even if it was the annoying pretty girl.

Sun Hee nodded rapidly, expecting this question. "We want to give you lots of options." She said, almost vibrating in earnest excitement. "You can stay here with us, join our gang, and help us fight against the people who hurt you - or just help us with regular business. Or, if you have family or somewhere else to go, we can help you get there."

Mai spoke up carefully, like she was trying to choose words that didn't come out as too harsh or cold. "Sticking together might be the only chance you have to not suffer the same fate." She pointed out her gaze intense as she swept the crowd of women with it.

Well… Sun Hee thought, shaking her head, it's the thought that counts?

Stepping in before Mai could be more Mai at them, Sun Hee put on a bubbly smile, "We might be a gang, but we're not interested in sex slavery, forced drug use, or even in selling that crap to kids and those who'll just get deathly sick from it. We're a gang that will do what the government refuses to do, protect the people." She paused for a moment, "For a small fee." She added, wincing.

A murmur rippled through the group, the women exchanging glances and whispered words. Some looked skeptical, others seemed to be considering the offer seriously. The fact they mentioned getting paid for the work seemed to have gotten more women believing in her words than anything she said about being better than the other gangs.

People in Brockton Bay didn't believe in free hand outs generally, Sun Hee understood, as the women quietly discussed things amongst themselves.

The pretty girl with needle marks and an attitude, held herself apart from the rest, eying Sun Hee and Mai critically. For all that she seemed willing to protect the others, she didn't seem part of the group.

One black woman, her face gaunt and eyes haunted, spoke up. "I don't have anywhere to go. My family... they wouldn't take me back. I have nothing left out there."

Mai uncrossed her arms and stepped forward, still a little too brusque in Sun Hee's opinion. "Then stay with us. We can provide food, shelter, and a purpose. We're building something different here, something that isn't about exploitation but about fighting back. You can be part of that." She shrugged lightly, "We will still make money of course, it is crime, but we'd be actually doing something useful too."

The pretty girl with the weird accent glanced at the woman who had spoken, then back at Sun Hee and Mai. "And what exactly would we be doing? Just because you say you're different doesn't mean you are." Her gaze was challenging and confrontational.

She thinks we're lying… Sun Hee thought, understanding the caution, but hoping it wouldn't lead to a complete rejection.

Mai, unflappable as usual, met her gaze steadily. "We understand your skepticism, I've been where you are…" Mai cut off suddenly, like she hadn't expected the words out of her own mouth, looking chagrined to have let it out.

Sun Hee was surprised as well, but noticed that the admission had immediately softened the other women's opinion of her.

Pretending she'd said nothing, Mai continued, her expression closed off, "You can never go back to your old life, the experience… It changes you. Here you'd be safer, with others like you, others that want what you want. We need people who can help with a variety of tasks - everything from gathering intel to training and protecting others - to running eventual business fronts, money laundering, and actual real jobs. You won't be forced into anything. And if you want revenge on the ABB, we can make that happen, too. Together, we're stronger."

A voluptuous woman with scarred cheeks and wide, wary eyes asked, "And if we don't want to join you? If we just want to leave?"

The rest of the women shuffled quietly at that, sending them wary glances.

Mai's face softened slightly, her tone less harsh. "Then we'll help you. We can give you some money, albeit not a lot, some clothes and necessary items. But think carefully - out there, it's dangerous - and alone, it's even more so. Here, you have a chance to rebuild and protect each other."

Sun Hee was kind of glad Mai had taken over, she'd never succeed in being that eloquent and stuff. Even she felt inspired. Build and protect, yeah! That is what she was with Jordan for!

"Girl power!" She said cheerfully pumping a fist, her excitement overflowing a bit in the moment. Her cheeks grew red as most of the women just looked at her oddly.

Another murmur spread through the group, this time with more nods and thoughtful looks. The pretty accent girl seemed to be their unofficial spokesperson, and she turned to the others, having a quiet, intense discussion.

"They all want to stay, but some have families and want to know what to do about that." The blonde pretty girl finally said, stepping forward, speaking for the group.

Sun Hee bounced excitedly from foot to foot, "They can join too!" She blurted out, "They'll be happy right? To get their family back, and we can protect them and stuff, if they're with us too!"

Mai nodded seriously, "We will accept any of you, and your families. If we can't afford it, we'll find the money, if we don't have space, we'll make space, we don't intend to let anyone that wants to be part of this live like a Merchant."

Sun Hee knew it wouldn't be as easy as Mai said, but she was still right, they could get money if they needed it - they wouldn't fail at helping people. She'd master a rich guy or something and get a bunch of money!

The girl nodded slowly, glancing back at the women, seeing their decision, before she sighed, scratching at the needle marks on her arms. "Fine then, they'll all join up, some of them need ways to contact their family and such." She said without much enthusiasm.

Mai's eyes narrowed as she looked over the girl, Sun Hee as well had noticed that she hadn't ever spoken on what she would do.

"I'll get them set up!" Sun Hee said cheerfully, "Come with me, we have warm showers!" She called out, drawing the women's interest immediately.

Sun Hee didn't really want to deal with the stuck up looking girl, so she'd be the excellent host and get the rest of them settled in!

As the women and girls all slowly eased up, their expressions becoming less guarded, Sun Hee felt like her heart was like a balloon, just blowing up bigger and bigger until it was going to burst.

They were actually helping people!

When did that ever happen in this city?





With Jordan,

It was almost an impossible thing to think of, in the end.

Killing Miss Militia, an original ward.

It meant backlash. It meant the Grue identity would be toast, no bones about it. With his recent activities he would be fingered as the culprit eventually - once watchdog got into it.

Chaos might be a ladder, but Brockton Bay would become very dangerous for him very quickly and wouldn't afford him time to climb it - depending on if the likes of Legend dropped by to show his displeasure at the murder of an original ward and a pretty popular hero.

There was dying in battle, and then there was an execution in a dark alley, one would be taken a lot worse then the other.

Death was death, but Jordan knew that to the heroes, the manner of death mattered a lot.

Even if Legend didn't show up himself, Brockton Bay would likely still get reinforcements, Cauldron's little project or not. Losing someone like Miss Militia couldn't be waved away, the Chief Director couldn't say - you'll do fine without her or - we've got no one to send.

There would be reinforcements, and they would be hunting him.

He'd just rescued a bunch of sex slaves, was in the process of trying to recruit them, their families, their friends. Holding the ABB up as the ultimate enemy. Had given Lung an ultimatum even - threatened to come for him.

Killing Miss Militia would complicate all that.

All of these were really good thoughts. Logical, clear cut thoughts that explained why it was a bad idea.

He sighed as he looked down at Miss Militia's corpse, a single bullet through her head.

Just if I could have thought of them before I put a bullet in her…

In his hand, he held a knife, something he discovered after the massive headache from taking her power abated. With a simple thought it was a gun, then a sword.

He'd have to experiment later, but just from what he felt so far. Even guns from stuff he'd seen in science fiction might work. As long as they worked on similar enough principles to something the shard had seen before. That was what the power came from after all - not his knowledge of the guns, but the shards.

He'd bring the outer appearance - the cosmetic part, what he'd seen of something, but the Shard was the one making the weapon actually function as it was supposed to - based on what it knew or had seen throughout the cycles. He just focused on it and it appeared, he hadn't tried it much yet, just felt he could do things that seemed to stretch further than he'd heard Miss Militia use. That intuitive part of the power mixed with his metaknowledge apparently.

He raised the sword, grimacing at the nasty work ahead of him. Miss Militia… Hadn't really deserved this, or what would come now. But it was every man for himself in this world.

He couldn't even pretend anymore.

He wasn't a good person, and he needed to just own that.

He'd be just good enough to protect Jana. So that she could be good.

He set to the dirty job of mutilating the body with the sword in violent random swipes, turning his weapons to hooks and bludgeoning tools at times as well to make it look like she went through a very specific blender.

She'd had a run in with Hookwolf just previously he knew, and the PRT knew about it too. It might only give him a day or two of a headstart on his plans, but it would give him something.

The emotional response to such gruesome butchery would hopefully prevent the immediate sophisticated analysis someone like Armsmaster could likely perform with his scanners.

After finally making the scene gory enough, his uniform plastered in blood from the work, he cut her head off, feeling sick to his stomach - but powering through it. The deed was done, there was no point in being a pussy about it now.

Having shot her in the head, he couldn't leave that evidence behind, besides… Hookwolf was the type he might take a trophy for a high value kill. They'll believe it for just long enough, he hoped.

Hopefully long enough they'll kill Hookwolf for him before they figure out the ruse, although he doubted they'd go that far. The heroes were mostly window dressing after all.

Armsmaster likely had a PR thing to go to for his rep that would take precedence.

He finished staging the scene a little, doodling on her bandana for a moment, every little detail would help. Even if it all made him feel like a serial killer…

Which… He supposed he was.

Finding a garbage bag in a nearby dumpster, he dumped the head inside, taking one last look at the alley, ensuring he didn't forget anything, then he turned into his breaker state and left hurriedly, finding another good use for that particular power - he didn't spread blood everywhere from his dripping boots and uniform.

Things had changed immensely due to his knee jerk reaction to just shoot her. The woman never even realized she was in danger as he floated down behind her, aligning his shot.

He couldn't stay in Brockton Bay, he'd have to get out until the heat settled a bit. Just abandoning the Grue persona wouldn't be enough, if he stayed. They would eventually figure him out, now that resources would be allocated for it.

If he ran, they'd look for him once they figured that out, but now they'd have to search all across America, and they didn't have the resources to keep that up for long - and it would leave Mai and Sun Hee in the shadows, to grow in the chaos as the other gangs took chunks out of each other.

It wasn't ideal, not how he'd planned it, but it wasn't necessarily bad either.

He'd have the freedom to roam around without worrying too much about Jana and her surroundings, letting them all hide in obscurity while he drew all the attention away from Brockton Bay.

And Miss Militia's power would make it so much easier to get a cape or two without having to risk himself.

He'd have preferred to give Mai and Sun Hee some more assistance before something like this became necessary, but it was what it was.

Killing Miss Militia had started the clock.

He didn't regret it.

He looked down at his hand as a Fallout style laser pistol briefly took shape.

No… No regrets after all.





Minutes later, the alley.

Robin sped into the street, finding the alley, having gotten word from the console that Miss Militia's monitor was on the fritz, showing all kinds of dangerous anomalous readings.

Heart monitors and the like didn't do much in reality, but it made the people back at base feel safer knowing they had a finger on the pulse of every hero when they were out there.

He'd been ready with a joke on his lips as he reached her last known location, slowing down enough to be walking by the time he reached the end of the alley, something like, who's stolen your heart, MM, boys back at base says it's missing! Yeah, that was pretty smooth.

She'd chuckle softly at him, and smile with her eyes, all good stuff.

Before he could even focus on what was in the alley, the overpowering smell of blood hit him, and he gagged, covering his nose and mouth, before seeing the tableau in front of him - not recognizing it for a minute, because it was impossible. She wasn't dead.

She couldn't be.

That wasn't her.

No way.

NO WAY!

They'd talked not that long ago.

Then he'd had to do that hostage situation…

He'd left her alone, because she was MM, unstoppable, unflappable.

He'd…

Oh god…

"C-console…" He said shakily, tears in his eyes as he held back the urge to vomit, shakily leaning against the wall of the alley, only now realizing his shoes were sticky with blood, there was so much blood!

"Copy Velocity, have you linked up with Miss Militia yet?" Console replied, sounding bored.

Bored… When Hannah was… She was lying there, they were bored!

Where was her fucking head!
He screamed internally.

Robin lost control of his stomach, hunching over and up chucking against the wall, trying to aim away from the evidence - because… It.. She.. It was all evidence now... The console kept trying to reach him, sounding more alert now that he dropped out of contact suddenly.

Robin couldn't even manage to tell them, couldn't lift his hand to the ear piece. He just sat down, in the blood. Sat there, one hand on her leg, staring unseeingly ahead.

Hannah… He'd left her alone!!

Sat there until they arrived.

Sat there, wondering why they didn't tear into him, sat there staring, feeling numb.

He'd never seen Armsmaster so human before as the moment he arrived and saw the body.

Assault coming up behind him actually having to steady the man as he almost fell, completely losing his equilibrium.

Never felt so in tune with the other man, as he did the moment he reached out with a shaking hand, picking up the American flag bandana that had been spoiled with the drawing of a Swastika, and quietly ordered them both to find Hookwolf, now.

Never felt so loyal to the man, as when they - several hours later, backed up by a grim Assault, broke down the door to Brad Meadows apartment, and Armsmaster executed him before he could even understand what was happening - the despicable man having had the nerve to go home and get drunk, after what he did.

Neither he nor Armsmaster asked Assault how he got the name and address of Hookwolf.

And as far as the record would show, none of the three heroes were anywhere near the apartment building. They'd been elsewhere searching Brockton Bay for MM's killer.

That's what their devices would say, that's what anyone in the PRT that did the tracking would say.

MM had been universally liked, no one was going to shit on her by protecting Hookwolf.

Robin just felt numb after.

It hadn't made it better.

He'd hoped seeing him die, would make it better.

It hadn't.

She was still gone.

It was still his fault.

It had been something.

But it hadn't been enough.





With Jordan,

Due to his state, and the need to remain in his breaker state, he was taking the rooftop express, floating over divides and moving his way across Brockton silently, keeping an eye out for any flare ups of excitement, so he knew what areas to avoid.

Things seemed to be settling down, if there was any fighting going on still, it likely wasn't between any capes.

Good for him, because hopefully it meant the heroes pulled back as well, resting up for another day.

He'd hate to be intercepted now, because whether it was a power he'd want or not when it came to a hero, he'd have to kill them, because he couldn't be outed yet.

He needed a day minimum.

Jordan landed softly on another rooftop, practically invisible in the darkness. The dilapidated roof overlooked a shadowed alley, his eyes narrowed in annoyance at what he saw down there.

What were the odds he'd run into something like this on a night like this?

It was Brockton Bay, so probably still a good chance, but it was still one hell of a coincidence.

Down below, two dark vans were blocking each side of the alley, men moving like professional soldiers, clad in dark clothing and fully kitted out - were advancing on a lone woman in a pretty clear cut kidnapping scenario.

Coil's men… He thought, head swiveling to the woman who seemed resigned, but defiant in the face of her inevitable abduction.

What are the odds I'd run into you… Tattletale?

She could probably tell him if he asked, funnily enough.

With Grue dead, had he interrupted the formation of the undersiders this much? Or was this the canon time for her gun to the head scenario.

His eyes narrowed, and why was Coil keeping this timeline? Would something stop him from intervening? Because the only way to go forward he saw here, was killing them.

And that should have had Coil drop the timeline… Perhaps he as well was too busy with recent events.

He eyed her, thoughtfully, her platinum blonde hair was the first thing that caught his eye. It was cut in a messy, tousled style that framed her face perfectly, strands occasionally falling into her vivid green eyes. Those eyes were sharp and alert, constantly scanning her surroundings with an intensity that suggested her power at work - the rising despair in them was clear to Jordan even across the distance, her body language tense.

Should he intervene? He wondered, or should he… Kill her?

He didn't really want her power, a thinker's headache in the middle of a fight could be deadly, and hers would be prone to give him one constantly, he was unsure if even a regenerative power would fix it.

But leaving her free or working for Coil wasn't the best option either long term…

She could easily pull information about him and sell it to the highest bidder.

He continued to study her, never having been much a fan of Tattletale, he found some perverse enjoyment in how her face was beginning to show panic and despair as the man closest to her grabbed her arm. She'd always come off as so smug and bitchy when he'd read Worm, so while he didn't condone the actions here, he felt Tattletale could use the scare.

Her face was a blend of delicate features and sharp angles with high cheekbones which gave her an air of sharpness, while her slightly upturned nose and full lips added a touch of softness. Her skin was fair, almost pale, and without her mask on, the freckles across her nose made her look more girl next door, then supervillain.

She wasn't in a supervillain outfit, she either didn't have it yet, or was caught out without it. Instead she was wearing a fitted leather jacket that clung to her form, accentuating her slight curves without hindering her movement. Underneath, a plain, dark shirt peeked out, complementing the tactical pants that hugged her legs.

Jordan continued to wonder if he should get involved, as he also thought of whatever reason Tattletale could have had for sneaking around at night, dressed like she was up to no good, instead of the far more girly outfits he remembered.

Miss Militia's power switched away from the knife he had been keeping it as, to a silenced pistol.

Well… I can choose what to do after, for now… Even if it isn't sex slavery, this is going to be my town until I get out of this world, and no creep is going to get away with kidnapping girls.

He leaped down into the alley.




Lisa Wilbourn fought against the hands that gripped her, her mind racing as her power surged, feeding her bits of information. The mercenaries were professional, well-trained, and they had orders to bring her in alive. She knew she should be happy about that - but there were many things that could be worse than death.

"Get off me!" she screamed, kicking at one of the mercenaries. Her heart pounding in her chest, her thoughts a chaotic swirl of fear and strategy as she drew heavily on her power to anticipate what they would do, while hoping the noise would draw the attention of a hero or heroic bystander - anyone.

She didn't hold much hope, the chaos engulfing Brockton Bay would keep the heroes busy, it's part of why she'd been out as well after all.

The mercenaries suggested Coil, and she knew almost nothing about him, while he obviously knew about her. It was not a situation that would go well for her if she didn't get away.

Suddenly, a figure landed in the alleyway, silent and almost ghost-like. Lisa's power immediately kicked into overdrive, analyzing him. Cape, a breaker, doesn't see the mercenaries as a threat, planning to kill them all. No sense of guilt about it. She shivered at the last bit, closing off the tap, she wasn't sure she wanted to know more.

It felt like her situation just got worse, not better. The cops and robber game was ridiculous, but it had some points, like preventing wanton slaughter.

Is this… Grue? She wondered, not letting her power loose, wanting to save it for the aftermath. She'd been studying the cape scene of Brockton Bay since she got here, and this guy definitely fit the bill. She eyed the clearly muscled torso. Worst case… Ugh… Thankful damsel of distress fascinated by bulging muscles? She thought, not at all pleased by the idea of it, but even less pleased by a killer deciding to take her out too.

Grue wasn't exactly a villain with a good reputation right now.

"Hey there gentlemen, what's going on here?" The intimidating figure asked, his voice reverberating through his rebreather style mask, his voice cutting through the ordered chaos.

The mercenaries hesitated, and Lisa's power whispered that they were unsure, not wanting to escalate the situation with an unknown variable. She seized the opportunity, elbowing the man next to her, sliding under the grasping arm of another, and jumping away towards the other cape.

Her power had indicated he was going to kill them, and didn't yet say her. So the obvious choice was him. For now, even if he was literally covered in blood and giving out some real bad vibes.

She really hoped she wasn't just jumping from the fire into the frying pan.

Brockton Bay fucking sucked.

Scarface, the leader of the mercenaries, stepped forward, pulling out his gun. "This doesn't concern you, buddy. Walk away." Unsure, had no word of cape involvement, in contact with base, being micromanaged.

Lisa's eyes narrowed, a smirk playing at her lips, Coil can't even let his guys do a snatch and grab without holding their balls huh?

Apex moved like lightning, disarming scarface, literally, and sending the gun clattering across the alley. Lisa's eyes widened as she processed the information flooding in. Fast, precise, lethal when necessary. Often think it's necessary. Suddenly had a sword in his hand, not a breaker power. Sword was a gun a moment ago.

Oh fuck


Jesus, Mary and Joseph what had she gotten herself into. She should have gone with the kidnappers…

Maybe… He's just got a really weird breaker power. She tried to think optimistically. Because the other option wasn't pleasant.

She didn't need her power to tell there was a dark edge to him, a willingness to kill if he deemed it necessary. He was literally playing with these men right now. He could kill them anytime.

Her power took that time to ruin her life. Shadow Stalkers power. Shadow Stalker 'transferred' - able to change weapons, similar/exactly to Miss Militia. Steals powers through murder.

Yeah…

She thought morosely, while continuing to keep a confident body language and lazy smirk on her face - as she stood nearby the power stealing murderer.

She should have stuck with the kidnappers.

"Coil is listening, isn't he?" His voice was icy, demanding answers, almost mechanical sounding due to his mask.

Lisa's power gave her quick insights. Knows who Coil is, knows what this was, knows who you are.

She clamped down on it again, feeling nervous sweat at the back of her neck. Who the hell is this guy!?

This was all in all turning out to be a pretty terrible day.

"Kill him." Scarface ordered tersely, even with his arm dismembered, he stayed calm, communicating with their boss.

Definitely Grue, Lisa thought, shivering as she saw shadows gathering in his hands.

Grue's eyes flashed with amusement. "Is Coil angry I'm playing with his toys?" He said mockingly, before blurring forward, going fully into a shadow form.

Lisa's own form was covered by a cloud of darkness, giving the men no option to aim at her, except she needed to see what was going on, so she stuck her head around the corner of the wall of darkness.

Lisa's power fed her more details as she watched him brutally take the mercenaries apart, just tanking bullets, while seemingly avoiding the laser weaponry, alternating between melee takedowns, and shooting them with the power that only gave her headaches to look at, as it flickered between different guns almost constantly, until he began firing back with his own laser weapon, a bulky ugly thing.

Every move was calculated, efficient. He wasn't just a brute force; he was a tactician with a lethal edge. And she realized with a cold certainty that if he decided she was a liability, he wouldn't hesitate to kill her and take her power.

She glanced longingly at the end of the alley closest to her, the mercenaries on that side all dead or dying already.

But if she ran, her power told her.

He'd definitely kill her.

While if she stayed, she at least had a chance.

As the last mercenary fell, Lisa's heart began to slow from its frantic pace. She looked up at her savior, her mind still buzzing with the implications of what she had just witnessed. The fact of the matter was, that he could still be her murderer, not her savior, which immediately sent her heart racing again.

"Thank you," She said, her voice trembling, even as she tried to act confident. But her equilibrium was thrown off, she felt real fear creeping down her spine.

Grue turned to her, his expression softening slightly but still holding that calculating edge. "Are you alright?" He asked, not sounding overly concerned about it for all that he'd briefly softened.

Lisa nodded, her thoughts racing to form a coherent response plan for when this all went inevitably to shit. "Yeah, thanks to you. I'm Lisa, by the way. Lisa Wilbourn." She flashed a thankful smile, trying to play it a little coquettishly

She wasn't into bulging muscles as anything but appreciation of art. But if it meant her life, she'd be willing to do quite a lot of things she didn't like.

"Apex," he replied, offering her a tiny nod, his eyes almost appearing to peer through her.

Is this what it feels like for other people when I know too much? She wondered. And wait… He's not Grue!?

Thinking of killing you, doesn't want to suffer headaches or TMI, doesn't trust you free. Used Grue alias as smokescreen.
Lisa's power supplied, and she was running out of time.

"Well, thank you for saving me." She purred, swaying her hips slightly as she sauntered up to him, laying a hand on his chest, feeling him up with an impressed and thirsty look on her face. Oh god please just be a normal guy who thinks with his cock! She thought, desperately acting like a thankful damsel in distress.

He snorted, giving her a gentle push away, "I know you're asexual, Sarah." He said casually. "Let's not play this game, it will be degrading for the both of us."

Lisa wanted to vomit. How did he know so much about her!? Has he already stolen thinker powers, precogs? Postcogs?

He looked her over, seemingly uncaring of the dead bodies surrounding them, the absolute fear he evoked in her. "I don't know if I can trust you Lisa… But you falling into my hands is a boon to me… If you can be useful." He seemed to be simply talking out loud more than to her. "Your abilities would be invaluable to a budding gang."

He sighed suddenly, a weapon appearing in his hand in a dark green flash, "I'll have to deal with Coil now either way before I leave, but now… You're terrified of me. If I take you to my people, you'll betray me."

"There's only one solution then…"

Lisa felt like her heart was going to pound right out of her chest as she stared at Apex, as he stood there calmly holding her execution weapon. The alley was dark and oppressive, the only sound was her own rapid breathing as she desperately tried to think of ways out, her head hurting as she let her power loose as a last ditch measure. She had faced dangerous people before, but something about him was different - more calculated, more lethal. Her power screamed at her, filling her mind with insights and warnings.

Gang leader, budding gang, need information, need intelligence, can be useful.

"Wait, just wait," She began, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to appear calm. "You don't need to do this. I can be useful to you. I know things, things that could help you."

Apex seemed almost bored, and his eyes were cold, unwavering. "Like what?" he asked, his tone flat.

Has made up his mind, is going to kill you. Her power supplied. Will feel bad afterwards, it added, which was just super helpful!

"Information," Lisa blurted out, trying to grasp at any angle. "I can get you intel on anyone in Brockton Bay with time. I can ferret secrets, plans, weaknesses. Coil, Empire Eighty-Eight, the ABB - they all have skeletons in their closets, and I can show you where to find them." Please please please!

Apex took a step closer, and Lisa instinctively backed up until her back was against the rough brick wall. "I already have ways to get information," He said, his voice steady. "I don't need you for that."

She swallowed hard, her mind racing. "I'm not just talking about general information. I can give you specifics, I can find out what your enemies are planning before they even know themselves. I can help you stay ahead of everyone."

His expression didn't change. "I have other ways to stay ahead. Try again."

She could feel death staring her in the eyes. Even as she fought through a migraine, her power was not able to help her as she'd overused it - if she pushed too far right now, she'd die.

Desperation clawed at her. "Resources then. I can get you resources. Money, equipment, safe houses. I have connections - people who owe me favors."

Not enough, mostly through blackmail, but she could get more. Would get more.

Apex shook his head slightly. "I already have access to what I need. Keep going." He rumbled, and she was half sure he was full of shit on that now, but didn't dare debilitating herself by reaching for her power.

Lisa's breath hitched, trying to spin things. She could see the cold calculation in his eyes, and it terrified her. "Protection," She said quickly. "I can provide protection. I can warn you about threats before they happen, I can be your eyes and ears everywhere."

A rewording of an offer she'd already made, but desperation and a migraine wasn't helping her come up with more.

He remained unmoved. "I don't need your protection. I'm more than capable of handling threats on my own."

Yeah… She'd seen that. Especially if that was Miss Militia's power…

She felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead. Every angle, every lifeline she threw, he cut down with ease. Her power had stopped feeding her a constant stream of insights, but none of them had seemed to be enough anyway. She needed to find something, anything that would make her indispensable.

"Think about the long game," She said, her voice shaking. "You can't do everything alone. You have a gang, right? Having someone like me, someone who can see the bigger picture, can be invaluable. I can help you plan, strategize, make sure you're always one step ahead."

For a moment, Apex seemed to consider this, and Lisa felt a flicker of hope. But then he shook his head. "I already have plans in place, someone who I trust for it. I don't need you for that either."

Her desperation peaked. She could feel the noose tightening, and she was running out of options. "Please," She whispered, hating the pleading tone in her voice but knowing she had no choice. "I don't want to die. There must be something you need, something only I can provide."

Apex' eyes narrowed slightly, and she could see him weighing his options. She just needed the right angle. He was a new gang leader apparently, and already had some people. What did guys like that want the most?

"Fine," She said, her voice firmer now, grasping at the final straws. "Loyalty. I can be loyal to you. I've been useful to others briefly, but they didn't see my full potential. You do or you wouldn't want me off the board so bad. You're different - you can use someone like me, someone who's loyal and smart and capable. You don't have to trust me right away, but give me a chance to prove myself."

There was a long, tense silence. Apex' gaze bore into her, as if he were trying to peer into her very soul. Lisa held her breath, every second stretching into an eternity.

Please, she begged, just one chance!

Finally, he spoke, his voice cold and decisive. "Fine. You get one chance. Prove your worth, and you can stay alive. But betray me, and there won't be a second chance."

He demonstrated his breaker state again, bringing out a large gun, "Lung would die against me as I am, do not think of betraying me, or my people, and you'll get to be on the top of the food chain, like you've always wanted."

Lisa exhaled shakily, relief flooding through her. "I won't let you down," She promised, her mind already racing with ways to ensure she stayed useful to him. "You won't regret this."

He wasn't wrong, she did want to have power, but she really hadn't wanted to be a follower. But with his power, she knew he wasn't boasting, as he was now with the two powers she'd identified, he really could probably take down Lung.

And that's as he was now, without stealing any more powers. Lisa would look for opportunities, but she wasn't stupid, she wasn't even going to step within a mile of betrayal, while he was hanging over her head.

Apex nodded curtly, turning away. "See that I don't."

As he walked away, Lisa allowed herself a moment to collect her thoughts. She had survived, but only just. Now, she had to find a way to ensure she stayed valuable, because she knew better than anyone just how thin the line was between life and death in Brockton Bay.

"Come along." He ordered minutes later, gesturing to a car just outside the alley, the van moved out of the way.

He was obviously intelligent enough to realize they couldn't use the van, Coil would have trackers in it.

"Car thief too?" She quipped lighty, testing her new boundaries, what kind of boss this scary man would be.

"Whatever gets the job done." He muttered, leaving her to break into the car, as he went to collect the Laser weaponry some of Coil's men had been using.

Lisa sighed, but got to work. At least she was alive.

It was more than she'd thought she'd have five minutes ago.





As they drove in relative silence, Jordan wondered if he'd made the right choice.

Tattletale would be very useful for Mai while he was gone, and although he couldn't trust her until the endgame in all likelihood, he could trust her in the near term.

She wouldn't want to rock the boat for a while.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, I can use her power without suffering a headache like this, by using her.

He also knew some of what she wanted, so he might actually successfully get her loyalty.

Worth a shot…

He took off his rebreather mask, pushing his hood back, it would work better anyway, that way he wasn't an obvious cape riding a car, just another person. He noticed Tattletales odd look, her face oddly expressive without a domino mask.

"My name's Jordan." He introduced himself casually.

"Oookay… I hadn't expected the identity reveal… Nice to meet you." She said slowly, her gaze openly calculating.

He shrugged, "I already knew yours, so now you know mine."

She smirked, eyes amused, "Really, you're doing it for a whole I showed you mine show me yours routine?"

He was probably throwing her off badly, acting so casual now that he wasn't actively murdering people. But she'd probably noticed a lot of it was posturing back in the alley.

"I don't really want to make you an enemy, even if I can't let you run free, so I'm going to lay it out straight for you, give you that respect, alright, Lisa?" He said, keeping his eyes on the road.

Silence takes over the car for several minutes, before she sighed, crossing her arms, "Alright, I'm ready, what's the deal?"

Jordan thought his words over for a moment, looking for the right ones, he knew he wasn't the best planner, one of the reasons he'd actually in the end decided to not kill her, and recruit her instead. Her power might help him with planning, but those headaches… It was bad enough for her, who wasn't actively throwing hands - for him, it would kill him.

For their budding gang, her information gathering skills, and her ability to plan with Mai, the things he was admittedly bad at, would be a great benefit. And since he'd have to leave Brockton Bay for a bit…

"What I'm doing… I'm doing it for my little sister. She's in a coma, and I will get her healed." He said firmly, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

He knew about her brother, and maybe it was a bit manipulative, but if he could get her to stay loyal for longer than the couple months he needed - all the better.

He turned his head to meet her eyes briefly, impressing his seriousness, "I will not let her suffer through this shit hole world, at least our part of it won't have the sex slavery, forced drug use, and other inhumane bullshit. We'll be more like Marquis was, a criminal enterprise, but one many of the normals could trust."

He turned his eyes back to the road, "And I'm not saying this to scare you again, cuz I'm sorry about that, but it was necessary to make you see that betrayal isn't a smart choice…" His expression grew severe, "Anything happens to my sister due to you betraying us, and I will literally stop at nothing. Including killing Panacea and creating a world ending virus just on the off chance you'll be one of the people it will eventually reach." He glanced back at her, "Understood?"

Lisa was looking at him like she couldn't understand him at all, which was better than fear, he supposed. Although he hoped she understood he meant every word.

His sister dies. The world does too.

"I understand." She said seriously, her face slightly pale, even as she winced, a flash of pain across her features.

Checked with her powers perhaps… Good, it would mean she'd be less likely to betray them.

He took the long circuitous route towards base, in case Coil was following them, now offering the carrot. "Being with us, it might be worth your actual loyalty, you know." He said, "I can gift you invulnerability, or super speed, one of the powers I have on tap…"

Her weakness was always that she was at risk in actual battle, only plot armor saving her when more powerful combatants that could squish her like a bug inevitably didn't.

"You can be more than you are, safer, a thinker who doesn't always have to worry about a stray bullet."

Tattletale was non committal, humming thoughtfully, but he knew she'd ponder it when she was alone. Invulnerability, flight, super speed. It would mean more personal power for her. And if he survived the next few months, she'd know their gang would have tons of power. An actual shot perhaps at making her more loyal.

Her and Mai would either get on like best friends forever, or try and kill each other within five minutes of meeting each other.

They had one issue that needed handling now though, before he left.

"If I give you Coil's identity, how fast could you run him out of town?" He asked, not interested in a long drawn out battle with the timeline pedo.

Getting him out would be enough. Make it perfectly clear how fucked he was if he ever came near him or his ever.

Tattletale seemed rattled, hesitantly looking over at him, "The reveal of an identity is going to cause issues." She said slowly, "It's not really done."

The fuck it isn't… That idiotic rule was run over so much it basically didn't exist, he scoffed inwardly.

"More heat than killing Miss Militia?" He asked, curious what she would say.

Tattletale looked like she'd sucked on a lemon, but she didn't look surprised, of course her power would have picked that up. "Probably not as much as that, although I have to wonder how I'm going to be any help to you if we're all going to be fucked in a few days." She pointed out, a wary look in her eyes.

He smirked, "I won't be in town, the heat will follow me, that's why you'll be invaluable."

She sank back into her seat, mouth open slightly, "You're going to let the gangs kick at each other while I identify safe targets for your people to hit, all the while the heroes are focused on you - somewhere else."

"Bingo." He said, that's at least the general idea, we'll see if it works as well executed.

"And they'll be busy with Coil's territory. Since you'll further set chaos amongst the chickens, revealing he's Thomas Calvert, PRT commander and consultant." Jordan revealed, enjoying seeing Tattletale absolutely flabbergasted.

"You're not lying… Holy fuck you're not lying!" She said, a hand to her mouth, "The ENE PRT has a supervillain as one of its top people."

"Can you get him out of town with that?" He asked, smiling, his eyes cold, as he thought of the man, one of the most likely to go after Jana if he was allowed any leeway.

Tattletale for the first time showcased her trademark foxy grin, "Oh, he won't know what hit him!"





Jordan led Tattletale through the well lit space of the hideout, walking past several of the women they'd saved, knowing that despite her villainous bent - this on its own would buy him some goodwill. His expression was unreadable as he ushered her into the main room where Mai and Sun Hee were waiting - he didn't want to influence this meeting, the women would need to figure out their cohabitation on their own. The tension in the air was palpable as Tattletale glanced in seeming nervousness at the two women, her mind obviously racing with a thousand thoughts.

He bet if she didn't already have a migraine, she would after this, because no way was she navigating this without dipping into her powers. He was also fairly sure she was faking the nervousness. Because once she'd gotten clear past the fact he wasn't going to kill her, she'd been pretty chatty and dropped all sense of nervousness with him.

He'd taken her pulse in that car ride, as she had his. She knew he was capable of atrocities, but also knew he could just be a regular guy when it wasn't needed.

Hopefully she'd never make it necessary.

Mai's gaze was sharp and assessing as she studied Tattletale, while Sun Hee's expression was more open, yet with a hint of suspicion lingering in her eyes. Tattletale could feel their scrutiny weighing heavily on her, and she swallowed hard, trying to maintain her composure.

"This is Tattletale," Jordan said, his voice cutting through the silence. "She's… agreed to help us." in a manner of speaking.

Tattletale shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, feeling like a cornered animal. "Hi," she said awkwardly, offering a quick smile. "Nice to meet you."

Mai's lips curved into a smirk, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Has she now?" She said, her tone dripping with skepticism.

Sun Hee remained silent, her expression curious as she watched Tattletale closely. Tattletale could sense the tension in the room, the unspoken question hanging in the air; could she be trusted?

Although to be fair, it was mostly coming from Mai, who she could tell was way too clever for her own good.

"I know what you're thinking," Tattletale blurted out, unable to bear the silence any longer, her migraine pounding at her head, and she'd get better results with this with pure honesty at this point. "But I'm not here to cause trouble. I'm here because… Because I don't have a choice."

Mai raised an eyebrow, her smirk deepening. "And why's that?"

Tattletale hesitated at that, gaze flickering to the silent figure next to her, unsure how much to reveal. "Let's just say I ran into Jordan at a… Delicate moment," she said vaguely, hoping they would fill in the blanks themselves. "And he convinced me it would be in my best interest to cooperate."

Sun Hee frowned, her expression softening slightly. "So you're not here willingly?" She asked, no one missed her quick judging look at Jordan.

Tattletale shook her head, feeling a surge of frustration - she could not afford to cause division right now, "I wouldn't say that," She said quickly, trying to backtrack. "I mean, I could have fought him, tried to escape, but… I didn't. Because deep down, I know he's right. I need your help, and you need mine."

And because he'd fucking kill her if she didn't. But she definitely would gain nothing right now by saying anything about that.

Mai regarded her thoughtfully, her eyes narrowing as if trying to see through Tattletales facade. "And what exactly do you bring to the table?" She asked, her tone sharp.

By her quick glare at Jordan, her recruitment had been as slapdash as she'd figured when he'd badly chosen to keep her alive.

Tattletale swallowed hard, feeling the weight of their scrutiny bearing down on her. "I have… The ability to gather information," She said slowly, choosing her words carefully. "About the ABB, about Coil, about… everything. I know things that could be useful to you - or I will."

Sun Hee's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of interest crossing her face. "Like what?" She said quickly, before bouncing slightly on the spot, "So you're like a cape for brains right?"

Tattletale hesitated, trying to gauge how much to reveal. "Like the location of their safe houses, their smuggling routes, their… weaknesses." She volunteered.

Mai raised an eyebrow, her smirk returning. "And why would you want to help us?" She asked the million dollar question, having no doubt seen through everything.

Tattletale really didn't like smart people, at least not when they were figuring out her.

Tattletale bit her lip, knowing this was her last chance to convince them. "I want to be part of something bigger, something… meaningful. And I think you guys might be it." She lied, hoping she sold it enough.

Jordan would know better, but she actually believed him when he said he wouldn't reveal their entire deal to the others. Or help her settle in with them either.

She was well aware Mai was who Jordan trusted, the one who'd be left in charge.

She was also uncomfortably aware that the others in this room didn't know he'd killed Miss Militia yet, or that he planned to ditch Brockton Bay.

Hopefully she'd get a room before they talked about that. She didn't need her head and it's punishing migraine anywhere near the noise that argument would bring.

There was a long moment of silence as Mai and Sun Hee exchanged glances, silently communicating their thoughts. Tattletale held her breath, waiting for their verdict. Either way Jordan offered her an in, but without their approval, it would be hell.

She knew how catty girls could get to each other.

Finally, Mai spoke, her voice soft but firm. "Alright," she said, her gaze never leaving Tattletales. "You can slide in, we'll accommodate you. But one wrong move, and you're out."

Sun Hee nodded, her expression cheerful. "We'll be best friends!" she added, her tone almost ominous.

Tattletale forced a smile, trying to mask her anxiety. "Thank you," She said, her voice slightly hoarse. "You won't regret this, I promise."

God do I regret getting out of bed this morning… Yesterday. Whatever.

As the tension in the room eased slightly, Jordan remained silent, watching the interaction with a keen eye. He didn't smile or offer any words of encouragement, his expression remaining unyielding.

He'd stay out of it. They needed to be able to trust each other, without his deal or his threat, being out in the open.

Tattletale had some way to go before they would truly see her as part of the team. For now, she was an outsider, and she would have to prove her worth every step of the way.

But for Jordan, this was the best outcome, because he knew that Mai having Tattletale under her, would be able to do just fine without him while he was gone.

Jana would be safe.





Author's note:

Author writes a chapter about murdering Miss Militia.

Author hardly mentions said murder.

Spends the entire chapter on Tattletale instead.

Now who'd expected that?

Probably gonna catch some flak though, the Tattletale lovers are gonna be annoyed how I scared the bejesus out of her. And the Tattletale haters will be annoyed I didn't kill her or didn't scare her enough

Oh well.

Jordan knows she isn't loyal with a gun to her head - he's read Worm.

But he only really needs her to be loyal for a short time, as he leaves Brockton Bay, picking her up on that whim - to help Mai and Sun Hee with information.

So off he goes into the sunset to murder capes.

Perhaps the heroes are a bit ooc, but taking from Canon, I think Armsmaster would totally do this if he thought he could get away with it.

And likely would get a slap on the wrist anyway if found out by the PRT higher ups as they'd just draft a kill order and backdate it to an hour before he was killed or something.

Either way it will further inflame Brockton Bay.

Cheers
 
Didn't think you'd take out Miss Militia, but am quite amused to see that you did. Evil OC/SI's are a breath of fresh air in these parts, and am curious to see how long it takes for Armsy to realize they killed the wrong murderer. I wonder what they'll think. Perhaps a bit of sorrow, guilt, maybe? Then again, he was a killer who needed to go eventually.
 
Chapter 8: Distressing News.
Here's chapter 8: Distressing news.

So chappie won on Patron, so we get another chapter of Jordans murder life.

Now with more murder.

Also another addition to the gang, one that's entirely sane. Really. Tattletale likes her, that counts, right?

Standard disclaimer - Worm belongs to Wildbow, it is not mine, I am simply playing in the kiddie pool.





The atmosphere in the base was electric, a mix of tension and frenetic energy. The dimly lit room they were working in buzzed with the hum of computers and the soft glow of multiple monitors.

They didn't have much time until Jordans self imposed banishment, so everyone was going full speed ahead on what needed to be done.

One of the back rooms that had been fully fitted before the build of the warehouse had ended, had been transformed into a command center of sorts. Desks were cluttered with maps, files, and one very large coffee machine - while a large whiteboard dominated one wall, covered in scribbles and plans in Mai's handwriting. Jordan stood off to one side, his eyes scanning the room with a mix of bemusement and resignation.

He somewhat regretted that he'd miss the beginnings of this, as Mai would grow his little gang without him there, in a way accomplishing her dream, even if not with superpowers - she made a pretty decent villain after all.

Begrudgingly Mai had agreed with him on his choice, especially after Tattletale had rattled off all the ways the PRT had to figure out the real killer of Miss Militia if they put their back into it. Which they likely would for this.

By morning it would be headline news. So he didn't have too much time. He expected to only have days before someone figured out the connection between him and dying capes in the city.

From there power thief wasn't a far off assumption.

Mai was at the center of the chaos, her sharp eyes constantly flicking between Tattletale, keeping an eye on her, and on him just watching him, while she spoke to a reporter using a burner phone. Tattletale had proved her chops again already, having a name for a reporter that was fairly well known - and likely to spread news far and wide online if no news media picked it up.

Not that any of them believed they wouldn't. The PRT wouldn't have time to squash this, not while already busy dealing with MM's death. By the time the story they were planting was out, it would be too late for Coil.

Tattletale seemed to know of a lot of assholes actually, her power really useful in picking up clues from simple things she'd read or run into in her life. It's how she'd learned about this particular reporter, just from observing him once.

Mai didn't care for his status or reputation and was brusque, direct, and speaking with little patience for nonsense, her voice cutting through the din like a knife. "This story will blow the lid off the PRT, I don't need any more arguments, you know how huge this will be," She said, her tone brooking no argument. "Thomas Calvert is Coil. We have proof."

Her eyes flicked again to Tattletale, without words saying - we better have proof…. Or she'd take it out of Tattletale if she made Mai look like a fool.

Tattletale was frantically typing away at a computer, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she pulled together every scrap of information she could find on Thomas Calvert. Her face was a mask of manic glee, her eyes alight with the thrill of bringing down someone who had tried to take her, no doubt to be a thinker pet, a fate she wouldn't wish on anyone. The glow from the monitors highlighted the intensity in her eyes, the faint freckles on her nose, and the smirk that never quite left her lips.

Jordan didn't need metaknowledge to know she enjoyed fucking with people. It was clear as day on her face.

"Almost there," Tattletale muttered, her voice a blend of concentration and excitement. "Just need to tie this piece in with the financial records... And... Done!" She swiveled around on her seat, a satisfied grin spreading across her face. "That should be enough to start an investigation." She practically purred out, her grin widening in a very smug look.

Mai nodded, her expression unreadable. "Good. Now let's make sure it gets to the right people." She turned back to the phone, her tone shifting to one of command. "This goes live within an hour of you receiving the package. No delays. Understand?" She cracked out, "If it's not out by then, I will give it to someone else, and you'll lose out."

The reporter's voice crackled through the speaker, hesitant but intrigued. "Got it. This better be as explosive as you say, if the proof is shit, it won't fall as you want it to."

"It is," Mai replied curtly, ending the call with a decisive click. She turned to Tattletale, her gaze piercing. "Keep an eye on it. We can't afford any mistakes."

She waved a hand dismissively, "He'll do it, I could tell, don't worry."

She'd likely end up out of it for a day or two if she kept using her power, the two hour nap she'd taken before they started this allowing her to try and use her power again, but Jordan could already see the small signs it was taking its toll.

Mai pursed her lips, giving Tattletale a look, "Keep an eye on it anyway." She ordered tersely.

They'd learn to get along, Jordan thought, eyeing them, feeling like they'd actually be pretty good friends if they could get over their own wariness. If Mai could get over her immediate poor reaction to the fact Lisa could read her with a glance. Mai was not a fan of that, for obvious reasons.

Jordan, standing by a large map pinned to a wall, glanced up from his own work as the ladies finished theirs. He had been studying news reports from surrounding areas, plotting his next moves with a cold, methodical precision. His plan was simple; get so strong, so quickly, that the PRT wouldn't be able to touch him. He traced a finger along the map, marking potential targets, his mind already calculating the risks and rewards of each.

With how circus like the whole hero and villain thing was - it actually helped him. Because villains tended to be in the news. Which means he had locations for a lot of them. Even if only what city they were in.

Heroes as well, although he wasn't as gung ho about killing them. But if a good power was available in a manner he could take it? Heroism wouldn't save them anymore. He'd still stay away from the wards as much as he could though… If he started going down that slope, he'd end up going through Brocktons wards like a grim reaper.

"What's the latest?" He asked, his voice low and steady, wanting more details on what Tattletale had achieved.

Knowing she'd be pleased that he asked. The girl loved showing off.

Tattletale looked up from her screen, her manic energy momentarily subdued, but she did end up preening slightly at his question. "Coil's as good as gone, he won't be able to stay in this city once revealed, he doesn't have the cape backing to handle going full out open villain against all the gangs and the Protectorate. The evidence isn't rock solid, but it's enough to tie him to some things - enough to make an investigation happen."

Since Jordan knew about his underground base, albeit not where, it hadn't been difficult to dig up information on fortress construction and the Endbringer shelters they'd worked on - including the one they 'never finished' that was 'filled in with cement'.

That alone would cripple Coil's operations in Brockton Bay once the Protectorate hit it.

Tattletales attention shifted back to her computer screen, her fingers dancing over the keys. "You know, it's kind of amusing," She said, her voice lightening with a hint of mockery. "Calvert's been a bit of a bad boy. How he managed to climb back up after everything is beyond me, did you know he was court martialed? Want me to dig further into that? There's bound to be more dirt we can use."

Jordan considered it for a moment, then shook his head. "We have enough for now. Once this is out, someone else can finish digging. Our focus needs to be on the immediate future."

He also didn't need her to make herself useless with migraines, just in case Mai had need of her soon, once he left.

Tattletale shrugged, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Suit yourself. But if you change your mind, let me know. I loooove a good scandal." She stretched languidly, smiling like the cat that got the canary as Jordans eyes were immediately drawn to her.

Mai, who had been busy sending texts, rolled her eyes as she took in their brief interplay, and she turned to Tattletale, her expression a mix of skepticism and grudging respect. "You worked fast. I'll give you that." She acknowledged, kind of sort of, giving a compliment.

Tattletale smirked, leaning back in her swivel chair. "It's what I do. Give me more work, and you'll see just how useful I can be." She purred, having lost some of the nervous mien she'd held when this whole thing started.

Mai's eyes narrowed, her voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. "Just remember, if you dig into me like you did with Calvert, I won't be pleased." She warned.

Jordan wanted to sigh as he slumped slightly, they'd seemed to almost get along there for a minute. Women… He thought with some exasperation.

Luckily, despite the uncanny sensitivity both women possessed, they were too busy staring down each other to notice his thoughts, or body language.

Tattletales smirk widened, a glint of challenge in her eyes. "Noted. But don't worry, I'm on your side, I can do many things that will make you a happy girl."

Mai's lips twitched, and she immediately turned away, Jordan having to hide a chuckle. She hadn't wanted Lisa to realize that she found her amusing at that moment. Or course Lisa couldn't be stopped by such a small thing as a turned back, and she raised her hands in mock victory, meeting Jordan's gaze. He gave her a thumbs up.

Despite the tension and the high stakes, there was a sense of camaraderie forming. It was tenuous, but it was there, or maybe he was projecting. But he'd like to think he was seeing it correctly.

"Sooo. I've been thinking, in-between digging into Tommy boy..." Tattletale said, leaning back in her chair, hands behind her head. Jordan made sure to keep his eyes on her face, earning a pout from the provocateur.

She had settled in unnaturally fast after her short nap, powers really were bullshit. Or was this just her? Jordan supposed it didn't matter, as long as she kept loyal for the next few months.

Mai's eyes narrowed, although her posture had loosened slightly, as she half turned, eyeing Tattletale. "About what?"

"About the next steps for the boss," Tattletale said, her voice gaining a hint of nerves. "If you want to get strong fast… I think you need to pick your targets carefully. Go for Damsel of Distress first. She's nearby, she's alone…" She pursed her lips, giving him an almost hesitant look, "You think your powers negate any negative traits of the powers you get, right?"

Jordan eyed her thoughtfully, "To a certain extent, maybe. It's not something I can know for certain, but so far it seems to have ended up that way."

Mai nodded slowly, "She's not wrong, it's a good target, it's on the list." She sent Tattletale a sharp look, "If it works like that, or he'll be stuck as fucked as that crazy bitch is!"

Tattletale held her hands up, "Hey, that's why I asked, it's bad for me as well if he runs into problems you know?"

Jordan didn't remember much about Damsel of Distress, but he did remember there was supposed to be a problem with her power, one Bonesaw had fixed…"I haven't looked through everything you both gave me yet, why her specifically?"

Mai and Tattletale exchanged a look, Tattletale actually keeping her lips sealed, giving Mai the floor with a small nod.

"There isn't a lot about her power that we had available in such a short time, but she can fire something out of her hands that deletes or completely eradicates what she's aiming at." Mai said, giving Tattletale a nod of thanks, as she was the one that dug up the information.

Although most of it was literally from cruising PHO so it wasn't like it was detective work in this case. Damsel had fairly public incidents and had plenty of things posted about her online apparently.

Jordan could already probably do something similar using Miss Militia's power as what Damsel could do. But as far as he was aware, MM couldn't hurt someone like Alexandria with her weapons. Even a nuke wouldn't stop her.

If Damsel of Distress could delete what was in front of her, that sounded enough like the Siberian that perhaps it would add another anti- triumvirate card in his deck.

"So there's something wrong with her powers?" He asked. He wished he had a perfect memory, but Damsel hadn't exactly been the main character, he barely remembered her at all.

"She can't control it, that's why she's a minor villain hiding out in Stafford, instead of a big shot like she should be." Tattletale murmured, looking briefly commiserate, no doubt imagining if her power went completely out of control.

"It's a risk." Mai brought up, crossing her arms under her bust. "If you gain the same disadvantage…" She trailed off.

Jordan didn't think he would, not with how his powers all seemed to settle in with each other. Grue and Shadow Stalker's powers shouldn't work together after all, but they did in him. This would be the same, surely.

Worst case, he could get a biotinker not Bonesaw, to fix him up.

"I'll likely go for her, she's close by." Jordan said, nodding thoughtfully. "And Boston?" He asked, already sure of his answer, but he wanted Lisa's perspective.

Tattletales expression darkened. "Stay away from Boston. Accord's there. If anyone can plan around you, it's him. He'd figure out your power the moment you killed a Boston cape. He's too dangerous." She sniffed slightly, "Even if he isn't as good as me, of course."

Jordan's eyes flickered with understanding. "Got it. Damsel of Distress first, then I'll steer clear of Brockton and Boston and head out of the area."

He wasn't as afraid of Accord's reach as she apparently was, but he also didn't really need to be around when the PRT inevitably began to realize his threat level.

The room fell into a brief, contemplative silence, each person lost in their own thoughts. The flickering lights and hum of the computers created an almost surreal atmosphere, a stark contrast to the life-or-death decisions being made. With one conversation, Damsel of Distress had been sentenced to death.

Mai broke the silence, her voice firm. "What about the gang? How do you want me to build it while you're gone?"

Jordan's gaze softened as he looked at her. Knowing he was making things harder for her, in a way. "You'll have Tattletales intel. Use it to keep a low profile, but make sure people know we're not like the others when you do make moves. No forced prostitution, slavery or forced addiction. Protect the people, and they'll support you." They'd already talked about it, but perhaps Mai wanted comfort, and just couldn't ask?

He stepped up and gave her a one armed hug. Mai growled lowly in her throat and punched him in the kidneys. But she looked more settled when he stepped away.

Jordan allowed himself a small smile, knowing Mai had what it took, and with Sun Hee and Tattletale as back up, she'd be fine to fly under the radar. "You two will be fine. Just remember, the goal is to build something better. Not just for us, but for everyone stuck in this city."

For Jana.

Mai's gaze softened, and she reached out to squeeze his hand. "We'll do our best, Jordan." I will make sure she's safe, she expressed through the look.

Tattletale's expression was more guarded, seemingly uncomfortable suddenly, but she nodded in agreement. "You can count on us, boss."

He idly played with Miss Militia's power, wondering if a portal gun would be possible, so he could come back if they needed him.

Food for thought.





An hour later,

Jordan was alone, sitting in one of the finished small apartments, he had just finished reviewing plans for their next move when Sun Hee walked in, followed closely by the blonde girl they had saved, the one who they'd told him had spoken up for the others.

She was a vision of classical beauty, her appearance a blend of almost aristocratic features and a waifish charm. Her face was a perfect oval, framed by a cascade of golden hair that tumbled down her shoulders in a slightly disheveled yet stunningly luminous manner.

Her eyes were her most captivating feature - large, almond-shaped, and a deep, clear blue. They sparkled with intelligence and fierce determination. Her high cheekbones added a touch of elegance, and her delicate nose further emphasized her classical look.

Her body was slender and graceful, almost ethereal in its delicate proportions. Despite her waifish frame, she carried herself with a poise that drew his attention. Her limbs were long and elegant, giving her movements a fluid, almost balletic quality. Her skin was pale and added to her otherworldly beauty, giving her an almost porcelain-like appearance - like a perfectly crafted doll.

He moved his eyes away, not wanting to openly gawk at the pretty girl, not with what she'd experienced lately. She was likely not very fond of men at the moment.

Despite the needle marks visible still on her arms from her forced addiction, she was definitely still a pretty one, albeit slightly waifish looking, a haughty look to her, a classical beauty. There was no need to wonder why the ABB had taken her. She looked European though, which made him wonder how they'd gotten her, or had she been a tourist?

He didn't want to offend her by asking, she had recently 'volunteered' to join, and he didn't want to push.

He wasn't an idiot. They'd all been given a choice of course, they hadn't been press ganged. But when the choice was plague or cholera so to speak - it didn't necessarily make people happy with the choice.

Jordan glanced at Sun Hee, his surprise evident in his eyes at the interruption she'd brought along, as the new girls were all supposed to be under Mai's purview. He was only an hour or two away from leaving, and he'd already said his goodbyes, including to Sun Hee… "Sun Hee, what's going on? Why is she here, Mai couldn't deal with it?" He grumbled out in question.

Sun Hee's usual bubbly demeanor was tempered with a seriousness that caught Jordan off guard. "Jordan, this is... Well, she's cool. A bit weird, but cool. And I think we could use someone else with powers, since you'll be gone, it would help, right?"

Jordan raised an eyebrow, his skepticism clear. "You think I'm a damn vending machine for superpowers now?" In a way, sure… But I don't know this girl.

Sun Hee grinned and pulled a crumpled dollar bill from her pocket, waving it teasingly. "Gimme a power or we start shaking the machine." She lightly threatened/joked.

The aristocratic-looking girl stood there, looking somewhat bemused. Despite her disheveled appearance, she carried herself with a certain air of dignity that was hard to ignore. Jordan wondered if the aristocratic look had some actual weight behind it. She was definitely European, he thought. So it was possible.

Although he couldn't fathom why anyone like that would ever want to visit this shit hole.

He seriously doubted the ABB had enough reach to traffic girls all the way from eastern Europe. They'd have to move through way too much Gesellschaft territory for that. And they wouldn't sell to the ABB from their stock.

Jordan crossed his arms, giving the girl another once-over - this time concentrating on her face. "What's your name, and why do you want powers?" He asked bluntly.

He hardly had time to get to know her, but you could tell a lot by why someone wanted power. And Sun Hee wasn't wrong in the fact that another power would be useful. Sun Hee had a very useful Master/Stranger combo, but it wasn't nearly as useful against a group or more then one cape at a time. And Tattletale was a thinker, not a fighter.

The girl straightened her back, her voice adopting an over-the-top aristocratic tone, it just added to his suspicions, as it was so overly faked it was almost real, in a way - it sounded Eastern European to him, but he couldn't twig if it was Russian or other. He was hardly a linguistic expert. "I am Lady Anastasia Anna Kournikova Romanova the third, but you can call me Anastasia. I wish to protect the people here, the ones who had been slaves with me. And for that, I need power." Her gaze was fierce, as she in no way begged for power, she demanded it.

Jordan blinked, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "That's obviously fake, did you just pick all the Russian names you knew?" He asked, bemused, "Although I suppose you managed to get a smile out of me at least. And you seem sincere… You're serious about this?" He asked, double-checking.

Really, what a ridiculous set of names she'd picked for herself, he thought. And why a tennis player in the mix of names? She didn't have the excuse of powers making her weird, not yet. He tilted his head, although she could possibly pull off looking like her little sister, maybe that's what she's going for?

Anastasia nodded, her eyes burning with determination. "Absolutely. You took responsibility when you saved us. Now you need to finish what you started and give me the means to protect them." She stated haughtily, her lips in a firm line as she crossed her arms, "Take responsibility." She said again, firmly, fire burning beneath those perfectly blue eyes.

This one had willpower in spades. She hadn't been broken by her experience, she'd been tempered. He could work with that.

Jordan turned to Sun Hee, his expression questioning. "Does Mai know about this?" He wanted to know. If only I could have been there when this girl introduced herself to Mai…

He hid a smile, the thought of Anastasia rambling off that whole list of fake names in front of an unimpressed Mai tickled him something fierce. He so rarely got to see her flabbergasted.

Lisa and this Anastasia, were both definitely people that didn't enjoy bending their necks. Mai would have her hands full with them, but if she'd given permission… She seemed a good fit for powers.

Sun Hee nodded enthusiastically. "Yep, she's on board. Thinks it's a good idea, actually."

Good idea? He doubted she thought that. A worthwhile gamble, perhaps, she would think.

Worst case Sun Hee could master the girl if she turned out to be a problem. And Tattletale could suss out any issues. In fact, he realized… That was probably what Mai had already done, hence the permission.

With a sigh, Jordan rubbed the back of his neck. "Alright, Anastasia the third. If that's what you want, then let's do this. But first, tell me what you think you'd be good at." He did have several different powers he could hand out.

He could even give her two… if in a worst case situation they'd have to kill her, he'd just get them back.

Anastasia's demeanor perked up slightly as she considered the question. "I've always had a lot of anger, a need to fight back. After what happened… I want to be able to protect and to be able to hit them back, to be strong enough to make sure no one can ever hurt m-us again." The longer she spoke, the more passionate she became.

Jordan nodded thoughtfully at her fiery attitude. "I think I have just the thing. Let's get you set up."

He led Anastasia and Sun Hee to a smaller, more private room in the back of the apartment. The room was sparse, with only a single chair and a table, but it served its purpose, it had less for her to ruin. Jordan gestured for her to sit, while Sun Hee leaned casually against the wall, watching with a mixture of excitement and curiosity.

Jordan took a deep breath, focusing on the first power he intended to transfer. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but he pushed them aside, concentrating on the task at hand. A faint glow enveloped his hands as he reached out to Anastasia, who watched him with wide eyes, an eager smile on her lip.

He just had to trust that Mai and Tattletale had the right idea here. Because he wouldn't be here for the outcome.

"This might feel a bit strange," Jordan warned, his voice steady. "But it'll be over quickly." Last time he'd done it to someone who was unconscious, so he had no real idea what it would feel like.

Anastasia nodded, bracing herself. The glow intensified as Jordan placed his hands on her shoulders, a rush of energy flowing between them. Her eyes widened further, her body tensing as the power took hold. The glow slowly faded, leaving her breathless and trembling.

Jordan stepped back, observing her carefully. "How do you feel?" He queried, wondering if the lightshow was due to the power he'd chosen, because it hadn't been quite like that when he'd given regeneration to Sun Hee's grandfather.

Anastasia took a moment to collect herself, then stood up, a new sense of confidence radiating from her as she stared at her hands. "I feel... Powerful. Like I can actually make a difference now." She smirked, eyes glittering in excitement, a healthy flush to her cheeks, "I can set things on fire!" She whispered excitedly, at least having the sense to not immediately go spewing fire everywhere.

Jordan had given her pyrokinesis. As they lacked firepower. And like his own powers, she'd immediately gotten the deets on how to use them downloaded in her brain.

Sun Hee clapped her hands, her excitement bubbling over. "This is going to be awesome! Welcome to the team, Ana!"

"Anastasia the third, not Ana!" She snapped back at Sun Hee, but without any heat behind it.

Jordan couldn't help but smile at Sun Hee's enthusiasm, glad that the killings hadn't completely brought her down. He turned back to Anastasia, his expression serious. "Do not practice in base, you did well to not immediately let loose. I will be giving you a secondary power as well…" His eyes narrowed, "You betray us, and I can get them back over your dead body, do not make me do that."

It needed to be said. The fact she was a sex slave and wanted power to protect the others, and to fight back, using them specifically to eradicate that trade eventually in Brockton Bay - made him feel at least somewhat sure of her intentions. And if not, he felt sure that she wouldn't be able to hide from Sun Hee and Tattletale for long, let alone him when he returned.

He'd toss in some of the skills he'd stolen with Victor's power to ensure she wasn't completely incompetent in regular fighting skills too. "I'll be giving you flight as well." He said, wanting to give his people some more versatility, since he wouldn't be here to protect them.

Sun Hee and Anastasia both jumped for joy, one in the honest excitement for the chance to fly, the other just excited that a new friend was happy. Anastasia immediately flushed and put on a haughty look again, daring them to say anything about her break of composure.

He didn't say anything, but he could see on Sun Hee's face that the girl wouldn't be dropping it, her mischievous look telling him there would be some teasing in the future.

It wouldn't be his problem, hopefully.

Flight and pyrokinesis, two powers that would mix together well. Since she had no special durability, she needed the maneuverability instead. And he refused to give out invulnerability, he was saving that one. This would really work out well, if she was on the up and up, he thought.

With Tattletale and Mai running command, Sun Hee able to master people and stay hidden in the shadows, and Anastasia able to be a flying flamethrower. They would have options.

He doubled down on his earlier thoughts on making a portal gun work, because he was now even more sure he needed to check back every few days just to make sure everyone remembered to behave…

That everyone realized he was still able to reach out and remove them if they became an issue. He wasn't expecting betrayal. But Mai had no powers. Refused them. So he wouldn't take too many chances.

There was always the possibility Tattletale had lied about Anastasia being on the up and up to attempt to use her to get away or take over the gang. He doubted it, she feared him still. But it was a possibility.

Unlike Pyrokinesis, Anastasia couldn't wait to try flying. And she was soon zooming across the warehouse they called home, Sun Hee laughingly following her from the ground.

Jordan exited the apartment, meeting Mai's eyes as she stood there, watching the spectacle.

Mai tilted her head slowly, telling him without words that she'd handle it.

Jordan left, heading to spend the last hour with Jana.

He could have dragged things out for another day or two maybe. But he didn't want to risk it.

It was time to go.





Jordan approached the row of parked cars with a calm, measured stride, his eyes scanning for the right target. He needed something nondescript, reliable, and easy to hotwire. His gaze settled on an old sedan, a model notorious for its lack of advanced security features. Perfect. He glanced around, ensuring the coast was clear, then slipped a slim piece of metal from his pocket. Within seconds, he had the door open and was crouched beneath the steering wheel, his hands moving with practiced efficiency as he worked the wires.

He really needed to kill a flight capable cape at some point. But for now, stealing a car would work well enough. He'd take another once he was done in Stafford, where his first target usually hung around.

The engine roared to life, a sound that filled him with a mix of satisfaction and urgency. He slipped into the driver's seat, closed the door, and took a deep breath. Leaving Brockton Bay wasn't just about escaping the immediate danger; it was about growing stronger, faster, and becoming the force he needed to be to protect his sister and his gang. The thought of his sister, lying in her coma, vulnerable yet protected, tugged at his heart. He was doing this for her, for their future.

As he drove through the desolate streets of Brockton Bay, he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Jana was safe for now, under the watchful eyes of Mai and the others, but leaving her behind went against every protective instinct he had. Yet he knew it was necessary. The city blurred past him, its crumbling buildings and graffiti-covered walls a stark reminder of why he had to leave. He needed to gain power, and fast. Brockton Bay was his battleground, but the world outside held the resources he needed to win.

If he was entirely honest with himself. He likely could get away with healing his sister now. Panacea couldn't stop him from taking her, New Wave couldn't stop him from killing her.

He wasn't strong enough necessarily to prevent a full PRT response, but he could still lead them away on a wild chase after healing her.

Except… The thing he'd avoided thinking too much about.

He was almost positive that Cauldron would take Jana the minute he approached her to heal her. Or even just minutes after he'd healed her. He was well aware she was the perfect leash on him.

So this little trip to get stronger had more reasons than he'd stated to Mai and the others. If Contessa was pathing him, it was doomed to fail anyway, but he had to try. But if she wasn't doing it constantly, if, as he thought, his path changed too much with each added power…

He might be able to slip through the cracks, and become powerful enough Cauldron would negotiate with him, or leave him be, instead of going for a hostage.

Or if he was supremely lucky, he was a blindspot and none of these thoughts mattered.

He doubted he was that lucky, so he'd just have to become so strong, so quickly, that even Alexandria wouldn't dare be a bitch. A difficult goal to reach, but not insurmountable.

The journey out of the city was both a relief and a burden. With each mile, the weight of his responsibilities seemed to lessen as he left it all to Mai, but the gravity of his mission loomed larger - he couldn't afford to slow down, or to fail.

As the city gave way to the open highway, Jordan felt a strange mix of freedom and resolve. The landscape changed, the oppressive atmosphere of Brockton Bay replaced by the vastness of the countryside.

He stopped for nothing, and just continued driving until he reached Stafford, willing himself forward, wanting Damsel out of the way before the manhunt began. The PRT wasn't going to stay fooled for long, and with their best thinkers on the job, he would likely be outed any day now.

'Grue' would be known as a power thief. And once that was out there, things would become dicey.

Stafford, New Hampshire, was a stark contrast to Brockton Bay. The small town was quaint, almost picturesque, with its well-kept houses and tree-lined streets. It felt like a place untouched by the chaos he was so accustomed to. Jordan drove slowly, taking in the details of his new surroundings. The town was quiet, almost serene, but he knew better than to let his guard down. Even in a place like this, danger could lurk beneath the surface.

Damsel of Distress might not go around and bully people quite the same as the Empire or ABB, but she could practically erase him if he ran into her. And her power was one he didn't want to test his shadow intangibility on.

He'd have Miss Militia's power for long and mid range, and Damsels for close quarters, as what information was available on her put her as only able to fire cones of destruction within 15 feet or so max, usually less. The control issue hopefully wouldn't be an issue for him, but her power was worth the risk.

It held enough comparisons to the Siberian and other such powers. Powers that worked on even high end capes like Alexandria. With Shadow Stalkers powers he could likely hurt her as well, especially coupled with Miss Militia's power. But that would have to have him fast enough to actually hit her. Damsels power wouldn't fix the speed issue, but it would allow him to stop her approaching him, as he could simply fire and force her back if she tried.

It was simply one more tool in the arsenal, a valuable tool, but not a complete game changer. All in all, a good first pick for this quick power gathering tour.

If only he could break into the Birdcage… He wouldn't even have to feel bad about killing the people in there too…

He found a secluded spot to park, away from prying eyes. The stolen car, now just a tool for his mission, was hidden in an alley, a dumpster blocking its view from the street. Jordan took a moment to gather his thoughts, pulling out a worn notebook filled with scribbles and notes. Tattletales intel was his guide, and he reviewed it meticulously. Damsel of Distress had regular sightings in this area, often frequenting a few specific spots. He needed to see her, to understand her movements and habits to line up for the perfect shot, without drawing attention to himself.

He didn't want to risk going up close to her to ambush her. He was going to be using Miss Militia's power to take her down from long range or mid range. Depending on how his tests with a sniper rifle would go.

The first location was a rundown industrial area on the outskirts of town, the town close enough to Brockton Bay that they too had seen industry die once the port in Brockton did. Jordan approached it cautiously, staying in the shadows and observing from a distance, getting up on rooftops in his shadow form to scout. The buildings were old and dilapidated, remnants of a time when industry had thrived here. Now, they stood silent and empty, a perfect hiding place for someone like the Damsel who couldn't control her power properly and regularly did damage to her surroundings. He scanned the area, noting any signs of activity. It was quiet, too quiet, but he knew better than to underestimate her.

He didn't expect to see her right away; this was reconnaissance, not confrontation. Patience was key, although he couldn't take too long either.

A day or two. Then he'd move on, even if he didn't find her. He was too close to Brockton and Boston, the two Protectorate teams most likely to bay for 'Grue's' blood soon. He was fairly certain he could take any of their heroes one on one. But for the whole group? He'd probably have to pull on some annihilation tactics, like a mini nuke launcher from Fallout.

He only thought of it as a laser pistol from the same franchise had worked already, so he was surprised and freaked out when his power put said weapon in his hands, a miniature nuke football locked and loaded in the large two handed launcher. His eyes were fixed on the nuke launcher he held in his hands, the device, a bulky and menacing piece of machinery, felt cold and heavy against his skin. Its dark metal exterior was marred with scratches and dents, and looked slapped together, paint almost fully scratched off.

The launcher's 'barrel' was long and wide, making it cumbersome to hold, it was designed to hurl small devastating nuclear footballs over short distances - it was insane to want to launch nuclear weaponry at short distances... But it held true to its design. He'd certainly used it enough playing the games, it felt heavier holding it in his hands, his heart beating fast in his chest as he realized what exactly he was holding.

He immediately switched the power to a simple combat knife, sweating profusely and catching the breath he'd choked on as he did, when it really caught up to him that he was holding a nuclear bomb.

That was dangerous.

So very very dangerous.

It was good to know he had it in his back pocket if all else failed. But by god was that not something he felt comfortable carrying. He was nuclear capable. It certainly made him more of a threat, but it was eminently dangerous to himself as well, he doubted the fact you could stand thirty feet away in the game and walk away fine translated to here.

If he fired that, he'd be standing in ground zero, and shadow intangibility or not, he wasn't keen to test that.

Jordan stayed in the area for hours, yet he found nothing conclusive. It was frustrating, but he knew he had to be thorough. He couldn't afford any mistakes. As dawn approached, he decided to call it a night. He had searched enough of the area to at least be sure where she wasn't, and now he needed to rest for a few hours and regroup.

He'd found several places at the end with suspiciously damaged walls and floors, so he might be getting closer to her area. So he'd get some sleep, get some practice in with the sniper rifle outside town, and then come back and finish his survey, hopefully locating his target.

He returned to the car, using his knife to rip the backseats apart, fastening the leather against the windows, to give himself some darkness so the sun wouldn't keep him awake.

Then he settled down in the front seat, leaning it back as far as it went, and fell asleep practically immediately, the stress and mental exertion over the last 48 hours having led to significant exhaustion.





A few hours later, Jordan drove out of Stafford, the quiet hum of the car engine blending with the early morning tranquility. He needed to practice, to perfect his skills before facing Damsel of Distress. His destination was a secluded rural area, far from prying eyes and the curious ears of townsfolk. The rolling fields stretched out in all directions, dotted with the occasional tree and fenced pastures, providing the perfect backdrop for his training.

After driving for half an hour, he found an abandoned farmstead. The house, a weather-beaten structure with peeling paint and broken windows meant no pesky people that could hear him. Surrounding it were vast, empty fields, with no signs of life or habitation for miles. Satisfied with the isolation, Jordan parked the car behind the barn and stepped out, stretching his limbs and taking in the fresh air.

He walked through the knee-high grass, the morning dew dampening his boots, until he reached a suitable spot. Using a few old fence posts and some discarded wood, he set up makeshift targets at various distances, ranging from fifty to five hundred yards. The crude targets stood stark against the backdrop of green fields and blue sky. Easy enough to pick out, not that he was an expert on how to do this.

Jordan took a deep breath, focusing his thoughts as he activated Miss Militia's power. In his hands, a sniper rifle materialized, sleek and deadly. The cold metal felt solid against his skin, the weight reassuring. He adjusted the scope, peering through it to ensure the crosshairs aligned perfectly with the distant targets.

He didn't know enough to mess around with it, but with his power he didn't need to, it arrived fully loaded and set for immediate use. Which meant he didn't need to be an expert, he just needed to learn how to shoot it, and get used and familiar with the weight and idiosyncrasies of the weapon.

He started with the closest target, taking his time to familiarize himself with the rifle's mechanics. The first shot rang out, a sharp crack that echoed across the fields. The bullet missed the target by a wide margin, embedding itself in the dirt. Jordan frowned, adjusting his stance and grip. He needed to get this right.

He hadn't expected to get it perfect, but he hadn't expected to miss so badly either.

With each shot, he made slight adjustments, learning to control his breathing, steady his aim, and compensate for the rifle's recoil, learning how to keep his body and mind still. Slowly but surely, his accuracy improved. The next few shots hit the target, albeit not dead center - eventually he began getting it right well enough and he moved on to the further targets, the increased distance adding a layer of complexity to the task. He had to account for wind, bullet drop, and other environmental factors, all while maintaining his focus.

Hours passed, the sun climbing higher in the sky, casting long shadows across the fields. Jordan's concentration never wavered. He fired shot after shot, each one bringing him closer to his goal. His shoulders ached from the repeated recoil, and his eyes grew tired from peering through the scope, but he pushed on. This training was crucial. He couldn't afford any mistakes when facing Damsel of Distress.

He wouldn't be so lucky as to have her stand still for long periods of time, posing for him, so he needed every drop of skill he could squeeze out, to ensure he took her out. He did not want to have to get close to her. Even mid range was dangerous as he could think of several ways someone with her powerset could close in quick.

By mid afternoon, he had developed a rhythm, a sense of connection with the rifle. His shots were more consistent, hitting the targets with increasing accuracy. He adjusted his grip slightly, leaned into the weapon, and squeezed the trigger. The bullet flew straight and true, hitting the target dead center. Jordan allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. He was getting there.

It did help that for all the weapons skills he'd stolen from old folks' homes, and handed out to the small number of people in his gang, he'd retained a small percentage of the knowledge, giving him a base to work from.

He practiced different positions, from prone to crouching, simulating the various scenarios he might encounter. Each new stance presented its own challenges, but he adapted quickly, his body learning to work with the rifle rather than against it. He fired from behind cover, over obstacles, and while moving, each drill designed to prepare him for any situation.

The less said about how shit his shots were when moving, the better. Obviously sniper rifles were not meant for it, but he'd tried anyway.

As the day wore on, Jordan took a brief break, wiping sweat from his brow and drinking some water. The physical exertion combined with the mental strain was exhausting, but he felt a sense of accomplishment. He had come a long way since his first clumsy shot. His confidence grew with each successful hit, each target struck down.

He wouldn't be able to match any professional by a mile, but from a rooftop within the same block? He felt confident he'd be able to do it.

Soon enough Jordan returned to his car, the sniper rifle dissolving back into a combat knife that slotted into the holster on his belt. He drove back to town, his mind already strategizing the next move. The training had been a success, and now it was time to put it to use. The hunt was on, and he was ready.

He would go through the rest of the industrial area tonight.

If Tattletales information was correct, Damsel was more active at night, less people to get in her way, or to notice her… Issues.

He took a deep breath, acknowledging the fact he was about to commit another murder. Accepting it. Moving past it.

Compared to the likes of the ABB or the S9, his addition to the crapsack nature of this world was hardly even worth mentioning.

He didn't enslave anyone, didn't torture or break people. He simply killed them.

With how this world was, with how Damsel couldn't control her power, couldn't live properly.

It was practically a mercy.





The sun had set by the time Jordan arrived at one of the rooftops overlooking the industrial area he had scouted earlier. The night air was cool, a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves of the sparse trees that dotted the outskirts of the dilapidated buildings. The industrial area was a labyrinth of old warehouses, crumbling factories, and abandoned machinery. It reminded him of Brockton Bay… At least the rest of the small town wasn't as crappy, yet.

Probably the lack of Nazis and sex traffickers…

He could feel himself getting close, there wasn't much area left over to be searched - and she had to be here - if she was in Stafford at all. Her lack of control wouldn't allow her to stay in the well lived areas for long.

Jordan moved with silent precision, his footsteps barely a whisper as he climbed to another vantage point. His eyes scanned the area below, alert for any sign of movement. He quickly turned shadow and began moving over the rooftops. The place was a ghost town, devoid of life, but Jordan knew better than to let his guard down, remaining careful as he moved. His patience paid off about thirty minutes later, when he finally spotted her - Damsel of Distress.

She stood in the middle of a wide, open space between two old factory buildings, her posture exuding arrogance and confidence. Even from a distance, Jordan could see her striking appearance. Damsel, or Ashley as he had learned from the information packet, had an arrogant air about her. Her pale skin and platinum blonde hair made her look more heroic than villainous, her hair cascading down in wild, untamed waves - even though he could tell it was slightly unkempt. Her eyes were a piercing pale blue, filled with a mix of anger and disdain. She wore a black dress that looked both out of place and perfectly fitting in the desolate industrial landscape, its tattered edges fluttering in the breeze.

He'd arrived almost too close, climbing over a rooftop and ending up close enough he could see her facial expressions. He'd have to back up a little to use the sniper rifle properly, and to have enough cover, as he saw that she wasn't alone.

Because of course she wasn't.

Two figures stood opposite her, their postures tense but non-threatening. Jordan quickly recognized them as heroes just by their outfits and their coloration, though he didn't know their names. They seemed to be trying to talk her down, their body language more diplomatic than combative. The taller of the two was a man, his dark hair neatly cropped and his costume a sleek, armored design in shades of blue and silver, with several pouches attached. The woman beside him was shorter, with a less athletic build, her costume less cape-like, but the bright colors still indicated a hero.

From his perch, Jordan strained to hear their conversation, the distance making it difficult to catch every word. He shifted slightly, positioning himself to get a better view and listen more closely. He wanted to know the situation before he proceeded.

He already knew he'd kill her tonight. He didn't want to risk following her after this confrontation, or risk anything else going wrong. Better to deal with it while she was distracted, but he'd prefer to know a little more about these heroes, and what they were about first.

In case they managed to chase him down after. Although neither looked like a speedster thankfully. Although if they were… Might have been worth killing.

Except he wasn't taking the risk right now of killing two people closely together. He didn't want to know what kind of mishmash of powers that would lead to with something as dangerous as Damsels powers.

"Ashley, calm down," The male hero said, his voice carrying a tone of authority although rife with impatience. "There's no need for this to get out of hand. Just step back, and we can talk."

"Call me Damsel of Distress!" Ashley's voice was a sharp retort, laced with fury. "Stop interfering with my plans. You have no right to be here!" She raised an arm slightly, from where she was holding them pointed downwards, "This is my territory!"

The female hero stepped forward, her hands raised in a placating gesture. "Ashley, we don't want to fight. Just tell us what you want, and we can figure something out. There's no need for anyone else to get hurt tonight."

Ashley's eyes blazed with anger, and she took a step forward, her movements aggressive. "I don't need your pity or your patronizing words. I am Damsel of Distress, and you will respect that!" One of her hands now pointed forward, albeit still sloping downwards, "Edict… Licit," She ground out, looking from one to the other. "Get out of here, now!"

The female hero, whom Jordan heard being called Edict, tried to defuse the situation again. "Ashley, we're just trying to help. Please, let's talk this through, stress isn't good for you."

"Damsel of Distress!" Ashley screamed, her voice echoing through the empty industrial complex. Her anger seemed to reach a boiling point, and Jordan watched as she raised her hands, the air around her shimmering with an almost imperceptible energy.

The next moment, a deafening noise filled the air, a sharp, high-pitched sound that seemed to cut through everything. A cone of destructive energy erupted from Ashley's hands, obliterating the stretch of pavement in front of her, the heroes jumping back, even if they hadn't been close enough anyway - probably by design if they knew her. The sheer force of the blast threw her back ten feet, as she cackled.

Jordan's eyes widened as he took in the display of power. The cone had eradicated everything in its path, leaving a gaping hole in the ground like the matter had simply been deleted from existence. He could feel the reverberations even from his rooftop perch. Damsel of Distress was powerful, more than he had initially anticipated.

Something like that could kill almost any hero or villain that got within reach. He wanted it.

Licit and Edict, quickly recovered from the shockwave. They stepped forward cautiously, their expressions a mix of concern and determination. Neither one of them seemed to be fearing for their lives, nor did they seem to blame her for the act either.

"Ashley, you need to stop this!" Edict called out, her voice firm. "You're only going to hurt yourself and others. Please, let us help you."

Ashley struggled to her feet, her eyes wild with rage. "I don't need your help! I can handle myself. I am in control!" She emphasized her last words, though the blast that had just thrown her back suggested otherwise.

Jordan observed the scene with growing want, hoping the heroes wouldn't chase her away. The heroes seemed genuine in their desire to help, but Ashley's volatility made the situation precarious. He knew he had to act quickly and decisively. He began setting up, floating back in shadow form, finding another rooftop with a good sight, a little further away.

He soon lay prone on a rooftop, the sniper rifle materializing in his hands, its cold metal a familiar weight. He adjusted the scope, peering through it to get a clear view of Ashley. She was pacing back and forth now, her anger still palpable, but there was a momentary lapse in her aggressive stance. Edict and Licit continued to talk to her, their voices a barely audible murmur from Jordan's position - although he knew they were almost shouting at each other, or he'd have heard nothing from his new perch.

"Ashley, think about what you're doing," Licit was saying, holding his hands up. "You don't have to be alone in this. We can help you control your power, or at least help you live with it, your stubbornness has gone on long enough, let us help."

Ashley's laugh was harsh and filled with bitterness. "Control? You think you can help me control this? You're delusional. I'm better off without your meddling."

Edict's tone was softer, almost pleading. "Ashley, please. We've seen what you can do. We don't want to fight you. Just let us help, you almost killed someone today, is that what you want?"

Ashley's response was another blast, though this one was less powerful, more of a warning shot than an all-out attack and only covered about 5 yards all in all. The heroes dodged away from it easily, even if they hadn't needed to, but the message was clear - she was not interested in talking.

Jordan steadied his breathing, his finger resting lightly on the trigger. He waited for the right moment, his eyes never leaving Ashley. He needed her to be still, to stop moving just long enough for him to take the shot. He watched as she continued to argue, her gestures dramatic and wide, her anger making her careless with the position of her hands.

Edict and Licit tried again, their voices calm and measured, but Ashley's rage was a barrier they couldn't breach. She finally paused, standing with her arms crossed, glaring at the heroes with an air of superiority. Almost posing haughtily.

Jordan's heart pounded in his chest as he lined up the shot. He mentally thanked her for being a drama queen, for giving him the perfect opening. He exhaled slowly, steadying his aim, and then… He squeezed the trigger.

The rifle cracked, the sound echoing through the night. The bullet flew true, though not perfectly. He had aimed for the spot between her eyes, but the shot went slightly upward. It still struck her head, blowing her brains out in a gruesome display, his own head erupting in pain as power flowed in, his body tensing as it settled in, the pain rushing through him.

Ashley's body crumpled to the ground, lifeless, the heroes reacting instantly, their eyes widening in horror and disbelief. They looked around, trying to locate the source of the shot, but Jordan was already on the move, his sniper rifle dissolving into his knife setting, even as he turned shadow and floated down the rooftop, immediately making his way away from the scene.

His head ached tremendously, a full blown migraine pounding at him as Damsels power settled in, he wanted to lay down and just rest his head somewhere, but he couldn't afford to. If the heroes had any brains, they'd be looking for exactly someone like him - new to the town, skulking about on the outskirts.

Jordan made his way back to the car, keeping to the shadows and avoiding any open spaces. He reached the vehicle without incident, sliding into the driver's seat and starting the engine. He drove away from the industrial area, his eyes constantly scanning the surroundings for any sign of pursuit.

The roads were empty, the night quiet save for the hum of the engine. Jordan felt a mix of relief and tension. He had taken down Damsel of Distress, but the heroes' presence meant the incident would draw attention. He needed to put distance between himself and Stafford before the authorities got involved.

They likely wouldn't place it at his feet yet. But by the time the thinkers tied Grue to MM's death, someone would clock on that Damsels death by sniper rifle was tied to him as well. Right now he still had the time to get out clean, the heroes having no reason to believe the sniper shot was a cape.

The night stretched on as Jordan navigated the winding roads, leaving Stafford behind. The mission had been a success, but there was no time to rest. He had more power to acquire, more battles to fight, and a sister to save. The journey was far from over, and Jordan was ready for whatever came next. He'd head out of state now, draw eyes away from Brockton Bay and the surrounding areas…

And lucky for him, just from what his aching head was telling him, he did not have control issues. Saving him having to go find a biotinker to kill or threaten into fixing him.

Although unfortunately the recoil and the awful noise would persist from what he could feel. He'd have to test it properly to see by how much, but the recoil wouldn't necessarily be bad, it would be instant movement if he used it properly, almost a mover rating on its own.

And who didn't want to fly back and forth using fuck off and die fields? It wouldn't be easy to go into a melee with him now. Not that it was before really either.

As soon as he'd put some miles between Stafford and himself, he'd test it out. The more tools he had against triumvirate level threats, the better.

Well… As soon as his head didn't feel like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it, anyway…





2 days later, Brockton Bay.

Armsmaster's workshop was a haven of order and precision, a stark contrast to the chaotic nature of his thoughts at the moment. The room was lit by a series of bright, overhead lights, illuminating the various tools and projects meticulously arranged on the metal workbenches. Shelves lined the walls, filled with spare parts, weapon prototypes, and armor modifications. The faint hum of machinery provided a steady background noise, a reminder of the continuous work being done.

Colin sat at his workbench, his focus on a small device he was tinkering with. His fingers moved with practiced precision, but his mind was elsewhere, replaying the events of the past few days. The death of Hannah had left a void in the team and an even deeper one in his sense of duty. The revelation that Hookwolf hadn't been the killer, after all, gnawed at him, adding to the frustration and anger simmering just beneath the surface.

Finding that out, had confirmed to him that his emotional knee jerk reaction had been a faulty response. If he'd gone with his usual modus operandi, if he'd performed a deeper scan and forensic investigation, he wouldn't be in the situation he was now. The incident had confirmed he should never let emotions rule his actions.

The news reports about Coil… That had further created issues for them at a time when they had no time for it. The director was practically frothing at the mouth, demanding they found Calvert immediately.

Colin seriously doubted the man was even in the state any longer, his base had already been empty by the time they'd been able to hit it, over a day after the news was released. Bureaucracy was the death of heroism, Colin thought with irritation.

At least Calvert was the Director's problem more than his, he had other things on his mind.

The monitor on his desk flickered to life, drawing his attention. Dragon's familiar face appeared on the screen, her expression warm and sympathetic. Colin had asked her to keep an eye on the investigation for him, the Guild involved now that the man in question had gotten a kill order.

"Colin," She began, her voice softening the harsh lines of his tension. "I have some updates from Watchdog about the investigation."

Colin nodded curtly, setting aside his tools. "Go on."

Dragon hesitated for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "They've determined for sure that the villain known as Grue is the real culprit behind Miss Militia's death. Forensic investigations have shown that the cuts and injuries were all wrong for Hookwolf's style. Coupled with the other information gathered, and the thinkers able to see the past of objects - it appears it was all staged."

Colin's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he absorbed the information. "So, Hookwolf wasn't responsible. It was Grue all along." His voice was laced with barely suppressed anger.

The confirmation was the nail in the coffin of his perfect reputation.

"Yes," Dragon confirmed. "Watchdog's team found discrepancies that led them to this conclusion. The staging was almost perfect for a cursory inspection, but the details didn't match up upon closer inspection."

Colin's hands clenched into fists, the metal of his gauntlets creaking under the pressure. "I killed Hookwolf based on the evidence we had. The PRT may have quietly approved of it even with no evidence it was me, but now that it's clear he wasn't the one... I'm unofficially going to be in the doghouse." Normally he wouldn't even reveal this much, but Dragon already had it figured out anyway.

Dragon's gaze softened with understanding. "I know this is difficult, Colin. The PRT's approval of retaliation, however unofficial, was conditional on the belief that Hookwolf was guilty. This revelation changes everything." They both knew there would be no official reprimand, certainly no charges laid.

It would all be swept under the rug. But his superiors would know that Colin got it wrong.

Colin's anger flared, but he kept his tone controlled. "Hannah's death and its aftermath will no doubt put me on probation of sorts - even if not framed that way." He groused.

He was still angry and upset she was gone, but this hit to his reputation over it, took up his focus at the moment.

Dragon nodded, her expression serious. "I understand. I assume you're not letting it go, I know you, Colin… Watchdog has confirmed that Grue has left Brockton Bay. What are your plans now?"

Colin leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. "I'll gather as much information as I can first. Assault mentioned investigating a black man that fits Grue's profile. He found an apartment building he'd rented not long ago. He also described an accomplice, an Asian teenage girl with a scarred face."

No one knew names, as usually for the area. But he had descriptions, and it shouldn't be too hard to find such a girl.

Dragon's eyes widened slightly. "That's a solid lead - someone with an injury like that should be easy to find. Do you have any more details on this girl?"

Colin shook his head. "Not much. Just the description Assault provided. I'll need to dig deeper to find out more." If Piggot will let me…

Dragon's voice took on a more concerned tone. "Colin, I know you want justice for Miss Militia, but please be careful. Although it's not official yet, there is a suspicion he can copy or steal powers. An incident in Strafford with a sniper rifle is suspected to be a possible use of her powers…"

Colin's expression softened slightly at her concern. "I know, Dragon. I won't act rashly. But I can't let Hannah's killer go unpunished." Or let them get away with tarnishing my reputation, catching them will bring me back up, maybe even further.

Dragon nodded, her eyes reflecting her worry for him. "I'll support you in any way I can. Keep me updated on your progress."

Colin nodded in acknowledgment. "I will. Thank you, Dragon."

Dragon's image flickered slightly as she adjusted her connection. "Have you considered the possibility that Grue might have more allies than just this girl? If he's capable of staging such an elaborate scene, he might have more resources at his disposal."

Colin frowned, considering her words. "It's possible. I'll have to factor that into my investigation. But first, I need to follow up on the leads I have."

Dragon's voice was gentle but firm. "And if you find him? What then?"

Colin's eyes hardened, his resolve clear. "Then I'll bring him to justice, one way or another." He knew what she was asking. She was asking if he was going to go as far again as he had with Hookwolf.

He wouldn't make that emotional mistake again. If he died it would be because Colin had already evaluated all other options. The man had a kill order, so if in the end he was forced to use lethal force, he would.

But never again would he go for it as the first response.

Dragon sighed softly, understanding the depth of his determination. "I know you will. Just remember, you're not alone in this. We all want justice for Miss Militia."

Colin's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of gratitude crossing his features. "I appreciate that, Dragon. It means a lot."

The connection between them remained silent for a few moments, both lost in their thoughts. Finally, Dragon spoke again, her voice steady. "I'll continue to monitor any new information that comes in. If anything changes, I'll let you know immediately."

Colin nodded. "Thank you. I'll do the same."

The screen went dark, and Colin was left alone in his workshop once more. The anger and frustration still simmered within him, but now it was tempered with a renewed sense of purpose. He stood, pacing the room as he reviewed the information Assault had provided.

He remembered the details Assault had shared about the black man who fit Grue's profile. The apartment building he had rented was a starting point. Colin knew he needed to approach this methodically, gathering all available information before making any moves. The description of the Asian girl with the scarred face was another piece of the puzzle. He needed to find out who she was and how she was connected to Grue.

Colin's thoughts were interrupted by a soft chime from his computer. He walked over to the desk, tapping a few keys to bring up the new message. It was a report on Shadow Stalker Dragon had requested earlier - sending along its results to him as well as the rest of the PRT in Brockton, detailing the latest findings on Grue's activities across Brockton Bay and matching it with areas Stalker had frequented. Colin scanned the document quickly, noting the key points.

Colin's eyes narrowed as he read the details. If he really could steal or copy powers, as Dragon and Watchdog suspected. Shadow Stalker was a likely victim. Now that he was focused on the issue, it seemed unlikely she would have fallen to simple gangsters.

She had a history of violent altercations and didn't have many issues in fights, except her propensity for going overboard. Her powers also made it very unlikely she'd die from a bullet.

He hadn't bothered investigating very deeply when it happened, Shadow Stalker seemed like someone who was always going to have a violent end, the director waving the matter aside. And with how busy Brockton Bay was with them so outnumbered, it hadn't been a priority, especially with the cover story that she'd transferred.

Colin would need to look into who else on the cape scene might have lost their lives lately since Grue's appearance. Perhaps those rumors about the Empire were true?

As he prepared to leave the workshop, Colin took one last look at the monitor where Dragon's image had been. Her support and concern were a reminder that he was not alone in this fight. With renewed determination, he stepped out into the night, ready to follow the trail and bring Miss Militia's killer to justice.

His reputation was on the line.





Author's note:

Ah, the words of any bad guy anywhere. I'm only doing this much bad - puts hands together a short distance from each other - while all these other guys are this bad - puts hands as far from each other as possible. Therefore I'm obviously a nicer guy.

Some people did guess rightly that Damsel would be the first target, as she's an easy get. Knowing her power set, it was never going to be a fight. He had no reason to get close to her.

Again I don't know anything about guns, so anything sniper related, take it with a grain of salt and handwavium.

Coil fights are long, boring and overdone. So just booting him out by revealing him was Jordan's plan, and it's worked, for now.

And we get some more details on why he hasn't really gone after Panacea yet, he expects Cauldron the moment he heals his sister, not only a PRT response. He can get stronger for the second, but the first is hard.

To be fair, it's totally something Cauldron wouldn't have a problem doing too.

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus
 
Chapter 9: Worm, Worm never changes..
Here's chapter 9: Worm, Worm never changes..

Hasn't updated in a bit, so figured I had some extra time, I'll knock another chappie out.

Standard disclaimer - Worm belongs to Wildbow, it is not mine, I am simply playing in the kiddie pool.





Jordan drove into Cincinnati with the windows rolled down, letting the early evening air whip through the car. The city skyline loomed in the distance, the fading sunlight casting shadows across the buildings. He felt the familiar mix of adrenaline and anticipation build in his chest. This wasn't Brockton Bay - he didn't have the same kind of intel or backup here. But he had his powers, his wits, and he had Tattletale on speed dial. That would have to be enough.

He drove for a few more miles before pulling into a secluded alley on the outskirts of the city, his eyes constantly scanning his surroundings. The car he was driving - a beat-up sedan he had stolen a few towns after leaving Stafford - had served its purpose, but now it was time to ditch it. He parked behind a dumpster, ensuring the car was hidden from casual street view, then grabbed his backpack from the passenger seat and got out. He left the keys in the ignition - no point in making things difficult for whoever came along next. He chuckled darkly at the thought of some poor sap stealing a car that was at some point likely to be linked to him.

The PRT hadn't officially spread the word on him yet. But he figured it was only a matter of time. Hence why his uniform was in his backpack and he was in civvies. Because they'd be looking eventually for Apex, not little 'ol Jordan.

He took a moment to stretch his legs and adjust the straps of his backpack. He was in decent shape, but sitting in a car for hours made his muscles stiff. He'd been driving for nearly two days straight, stopping only for quick rests and to switch vehicles. He could feel the exhaustion weighing on him, but he couldn't afford to slow down. He needed that flying brute's power, something that would give him the durability to stand up to bigger threats. His powers were impressive, but he was still too vulnerable in his mind.

Cincinnati had a new villain in town, a flying brute, perfect for his purposes. Both for his powers giving him a good 2 for 1 deal - and for the fact he wasn't tied to a gang yet, which meant Jordan wouldn't have to fight through other capes to get at him.

He walked to the end of the alley, blending into the shadows as he moved, making sure no one noticed him. Cincinnati was a big city, but it wasn't the kind of place where a stranger of his size and look could walk around without drawing attention. He needed to be careful, to move quickly and quietly. He found a busier street and blended in with the pedestrian traffic, keeping his head down and his senses alert.

Finding a quiet side street, he settled down in a corner, and dialed a number on one of the burner phones he had picked up at a truck stop along the way. The phone rang twice before Tattletale picked up. He could almost hear her smirk through the line.

"I'm in Cincinnati," Jordan said, getting straight to the point before she could smug too much at him. "Have you pulled up the info on the underworld here yet?"

Tattletale's voice came through clear, tinged with that familiar smugness. "Of course I have, boss. Did you doubt me? The place is a mess, like most big cities, but there's a method to the madness if one knows where to look."

Jordan could almost see her sitting back, probably with her feet up on a desk, enjoying herself. "Go on," He prompted with a sigh.

"Three main gangs operate here," Tattletale began, her voice taking on a more business-like tone. "First, there's the River Lords - pretentious, I know. They control most of the crime on the waterfront and handle a lot of the drug trade coming in by boat. They're rough, but not too organized - think petty criminals and small-time thugs who got lucky with some good supply lines and a bit of cape muscle to keep it. They wear a lot of blue, if you're looking to spot them. Their leader is a guy named Marco - minor brute powers, something with his skin being tougher than normal and stacking up the longer he fights, but not much else."

She paused, flipping through notes, intentionally dragging things out to make him ask. He just stood there silently waiting for her. Eventually she sighed, "Three more minor capes in the gang, small potatoes, hardly even worth the Protectorate's notice." She rambled off, before adding, "And you're no fun, boss."

"Sounds like a waste of time," Jordan muttered, internally discarding them as an option, completely disregarding her opinion, he was a load of fun, he just wasn't interested in verbal sparring with Tattletale. He wasn't an idiot.

He just held her hostage with a gun to her head to work for him… So okay, he was maybe a little bit of an idiot…

Whatever, he wasn't Coil, she wouldn't have the same reasons to betray him - not if he made it worth her while.

"Probably, yeah," Tattletale agreed, sounding amused, probably cold reading him even with his few words, fucking Thinkers. "Then you have the Queen City Syndicate. They're the old guard - run a lot of the more traditional crime - gambling, extortion, protection rackets. They've been around forever, so they've got connections, but they're not exactly looking to expand either, wary of too many capes bringing too much attention. They wear suits primarily, like some kind of wannabe gangsters who never grew out of the 1950s. Their leader's an older guy named Vito 'Vic' Lombardi, and he's more brains than brawn. No powers, just a hell of a lot of loyalty from his men and a well-earned reputation for brutality."

"Again, not what I'm looking for," Jordan said brusquely. He had no real lead on his target, so he needed an 'in' for the underworld, as his target was a villain and would at some point surely get involved.

"They have two capes as well, a blaster and a thinker, nothing too special, the blaster mostly does bodyguard work for Vic, and the thinker is behind their business schemes." Tattletale added.

"Very interesting." Jordan said in a manner that clearly said not. "I'm assuming since you're you, that means the one gang you waited until last to speak of - is the golden ticket?"

"Right," Tattletale continued, not missing a beat. "Which brings us to the third group, the Black Market Bandits. They handle smuggling, fencing, and all sorts of black-market activities. If it's illegal and can be sold, they're involved. They've got a lot of fingers in a lot of pies - guns, petty drugs, stolen goods, you name it. Their people are more open minded than the others, more likely to deal with outsiders if there's profit to be made."

"A little on the nose." Jordan said, amused, "The Black Market Bandits runs the black market… Any capes?"

"Just the one, again, strangely enough not the leader. One of his enforcers is a striker, half decent too. Quite literally has an explosive touch." Tattletale rattled off, giving off a vibe of praise me, praise me, see how good I did!

Jordan nodded to himself, absorbing the information, not getting drawn into Tattletales games, "And the flying brute?"

"Ah, yes," Tattletale said with a note of dissatisfaction at him for refusing to play. "Your target. He's not officially with any of the gangs yet, but he's been seen around the general vicinity of the Black Market Bandits a few times - whether a coincidence or not I don't have enough information for yet. Goes by the name Airstrike. He's still testing the waters from my read on the situation, seeing if this city's worth his time. From what I've gathered, he's got some decent powers - flight and the usual brute package, pretty top tier, although not quite on Alexandria's level - it's better than what you've got in terms of defense though boss."

Jordan hummed in thought. "I suppose it doesn't take much to be better than squishy." He acknowledged.

He had Shadow Stalkers power, sure. But if someone hit him before he was aware, that wouldn't help as much. Considering he'd already sniped a cape, he wasn't going to leave himself open like that.

Tattletale snickered briefly, "True enough. Anyway, if you're looking to get close to him, your best bet is through the Bandits. They're always moving merchandise in and out, and a solo villain like Airstrike would need to either buy or sell at some point. They control a lot of the black market trades here, so he'll likely pop up in their circles sooner or later."

"So, how do I get in with them?" Jordan asked, his voice steady, masking the anticipation building within him.

Flight was definitely something he'd been looking forward to ever since he realized what his power could do.

"Well," Tattletale drawled, clearly enjoying herself in her position of directing him, "There's a nightclub just outside Over-the-Rhine, called the Vault. The Bandits use it as a neutral ground for some of their deals and a general hang out area. The owner's a guy named Ricky Two-Times - don't ask, the story's stupid. He's likely your way to Airstrike. He likes his girls, his drink, and his money, not necessarily in that order. I'd start there. Be subtle, don't flash your power, and maybe show you're willing to play nice. You might get a meeting with one of their higher-ups and get a lead on Airstrike."

"Any reason why I can't just break in and check out what they know?" He asked, not being the most patient of men.

He could practically hear Tattletale rolling her eyes, "Because no matter how good you are, if you're not me, you'll always leave some sign you were there, and if they don't have any documentation on Airstrike, the gang will already be clamming up from the break in, and you've lost your chance."

"In other words, once I have confirmation, break in." He acknowledged, "I'll give you a call if I need you."

"Oh, but you always need me, I do so much good working long sweaty hours underneath you, boss..." She said flirtatiously, which he knew was fake, but it still momentarily sent his blood rushing.

Jordan could hear the smile in her voice, her enjoyment of the game evident. "Thanks," He said dryly, preparing to hang up. "I'll keep in touch."

"Is it because of my brilliant mind?" Tattletale asked teasingly, fishing for praise. "You know you love my insights."

Jordan snorted. "No, it's because your mind is swimming in filth, so you're right at home with these people." He fired back, given her a little of what she wanted. She had been good.

Tattletale gasped in mock offense. "Oh, you want to talk about filth? You want me to tell you what's in that dirty mind of yours?" She fired back playfully. "I mean bondage is a pretty vanilla villain thing, but that other thing… Kinky, boss. Very kinky."

He shook his head, smiling despite it all. "Don't bother. You already know I think you have a great ass." He shot out.

He hung up before she could respond, a grin spreading across his face. He knew he had probably annoyed her, not because of the ass comment, but because he'd cut her off before she could get the last word. That would get under her skin more than anything else.

She was pushing, testing how far she could get away with in terms of what she could say. In a way it was good. She didn't fear him enough to be afraid to open her mouth. He just needed to ensure she feared him enough not to backstab him, but not so much she'd risk it all just to get away. It was a delicate balance.

Pocketing the phone, Jordan started making his way through the city streets, heading toward Over-the-Rhine. The sun was setting, it was the perfect time to visit a nightclub. He pulled up the hood of his jacket, blending in with the crowd as he moved. He'd find this Ricky Two-Times, get in with the Bandits, and then track down Airstrike. He needed that power, needed the edge it would give him.

Also flight.

'Nuff said.





The Vault was everything Jordan had expected from a nightclub frequented by criminals - a dark, smoky labyrinth filled with loud music, cheap liquor, and the low hum of illicit deals being made in every corner. Situated at the edge just on the outside of Over-the-Rhine, the club was not even really hiding its connection to the Black Market Bandits, a perfect place for him to embed himself and start sniffing around for information about Airstrike.

Of course he'd have to act a certain way, or he'd be fingered as a likely undercover cop. But Jordan had suffered a pretty stressful time since arriving in this universe - so he didn't mind taking a load off and enjoying himself as a way to fit in.

The entrance was marked by a single, heavy metal door with a neon sign above it, flickering intermittently. A thick, surly bouncer stood guard, his expression impassive as he nodded to the regulars and eyed the newcomers with suspicion. Jordan had no trouble getting in - he'd dressed the part - dark jeans, a leather jacket, and an air of indifference that suggested he was either there for a good time or for trouble, and he didn't much care which. Basically like all the other scum who scurried around.

The twenty he slipped the guy probably had something to do with it too.

Inside, the club was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of sweat, alcohol, and a hint of something else that Jordan suspected was more than just cheap perfume. Colored lights flashed across the room in time with the heavy bass of the music, illuminating the crowd in a kaleidoscope of reds, blues, and greens. People packed the dance floor, bodies moving in a frenetic rhythm, their faces a blur of excitement, intoxication, and sometimes desperation.

He made his way to the bar, slipping through the crowd with ease due to his size. It was early enough in the night that he could still get a decent spot, and he flagged down the bartender, a tattooed woman with piercings running up both ears and a no-nonsense look on her face. He ordered a whiskey neat, downing it quickly and ordering another. He needed to establish himself as a regular rough and tumble guy, someone who was willing to drink, to party, and to blend in with the underbelly of the city.

Over the next few days, Jordan spent nearly the entire night, every night, at The Vault. He nursed drinks, watched the flow of people in and out, and kept an ear out for any mention of Airstrike while showing no signs he was paying particular attention to anything but the girls gyrating on the dance floor. He danced with the girls who came up to him, offering easy smiles and a carefree attitude, and a lot more groping than what he'd do normally. He had to play the part convincingly.

The girls here were a mix - some locals looking for a good time, others clearly attracted to the danger and thrill that the club's patrons represented. Jordan danced with them, flirted, even took a few into the back rooms to cheers and knowing nods from the regulars - the rooms were available for 10 bucks an hour, and saw heavy use. He'd need to Lysol his everything when he was done in Cincinnati... It was all part of the act, creating a persona of a man who was here to have fun, maybe make some money, and didn't mind getting his hands dirty to do it.

It also got him laid for the first time in forever, something which did relax him for his role quite a bit. Even if he now and the problem that quite a few girls were eyeing him up every night like a piece of meat, circling him like sharks.

The back rooms were small and dingy, with peeling paint and threadbare furniture that had seen better days - as in heavily stained furniture... The scent of old sweat and vomit permeated the air - those were the only smells, he refused to categorize any others. Jordan would find a corner away from prying eyes, as clean as he could manage, and quite eagerly do what was expected of him, and then return to the main room, acting smug and brash, bragging about his 'conquest'.

Somehow that didn't actually turn the women off. He really didn't understand women. There were all types he supposed.

It wasn't unpleasant, except for the locale - some of the girls were quite pretty, and a few even had a wild charm that made the time pass quicker. But it wasn't what he wanted to be doing long term. This was a means to an end, and he kept his focus on that. The last thing he needed was some random crime groupie chick wanting to follow him home by the cock.

He made sure to drop hints here and there, letting people know he was looking for work. Subtle suggestions that he was willing to do whatever needed doing if it meant getting paid. He avoided talking too much about himself, giving away just enough to make him seem like another drifter looking for opportunity. The regulars started to recognize him, and slowly but surely, he began to feel the eyes of the gang's members on him. He played it cool, never making a direct approach, letting them come to him instead.

By the third night, he was starting to see some familiar faces - guys who were clearly part of the Black Market Bandits. They wore a certain air of authority and danger, and the other patrons gave them a wide berth. Jordan could see them watching him, evaluating. He made sure to keep his actions consistent, drinking enough to seem part of the scene, but not so much that he lost his edge, flirting and fucking just enough to seem like he was having a good time, but not enough to seem desperate.

It was around midnight on the fourth night when one of the gang members finally made a move. Jordan was leaning against the bar, nursing another whiskey, when a tall, lanky guy with a shaved head and a scar running down his cheek sidled up next to him. He didn't introduce himself, didn't even look at Jordan at first. He just stared straight ahead, his expression unreadable.

"You've been hanging around here a lot," The guy said after a moment, his voice low and rough, just audible over the music.

Jordan didn't turn his head, just nodded slightly. "Good drinks, good music, great pussy" He replied casually. "What's not to like?"

The guy snorted, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You're looking for more than pussy," He said knowingly.

Jordan glanced over at him, his expression guarded. "Maybe," He said, keeping his voice neutral. "Depends on what's on offer."

The guy turned to face him then, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Jordan's face. "We got a job, nothing big," He said. "Some punks tagged one of our spots. We need someone to teach them a lesson, are you interested? A big guy like you… Easy, right?"

Jordan took a slow sip of his drink, considering the offer. He knew what this was - a test. They wanted to see if he was serious, if he was willing to get his hands dirty. It was a small job, a low-risk way for them to gauge his loyalty and capability. If he wasn't willing to get bloody, they wouldn't waste their time with him, or worse, think him a cop.

"I could do that," Jordan said finally, nodding. "Give me the details." He let loose a bloodthirsty grin, as if he'd been playing it cool, but now was excited to get to lay hands on someone.

The guy smirked and leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "They're down by the riverfront usually, the warehouse with the red chimney is their hangout. Shouldn't be hard to find. Just a bunch of kids, really, posers. Make an example out of them. Let people know not to mess with our territory."

Jordan nodded again, finishing his drink in one gulp. "Consider it done," He said, his tone firm, "Was wanting to get some exercise anyway."

The guy gave him a curt nod, then turned and melted back into the crowd, disappearing into the sea of bodies. Jordan watched him go for a moment, then set his glass down on the bar and pushed his way through the crowd, heading for the exit.

He stepped out into the cool night air, taking a deep breath and letting it fill his lungs. The streets were quieter now, the usual hustle and bustle having died down as the night wore on. He moved quickly, heading toward the riverfront, keeping to the shadows and making sure to avoid any unwanted attention. He knew this job was a test, and he needed to play it carefully. No powers, no flashy moves. Just a straightforward beatdown.

It took him about an hour to find the kids under the red chimney. They were loitering near the old warehouse, smoking and laughing, their voices carrying over the quiet of the night. They were young, probably no older than eighteen or nineteen, dressed in baggy clothes with the telltale signs of wannabe gang members. Jordan watched them from a distance for a few minutes, sizing them up. They were loud, careless, and clearly didn't expect any trouble. Perfect.

It would be an easy job, and thankfully not one where he needed to go as far as to kill them.

He approached them slowly, his footsteps silent on the pavement. When he was close enough, he stepped into the light, letting them see him. "Hey," He called out, his voice rough, a dark grin on his face.

He had no doubt he was being watched, having caught his tail immediately, and it wouldn't surprise him if the whole thing was being recorded either.

The kids turned, startled, their eyes wide with surprise. One of them, a scrawny kid with a backwards cap and a cigarette dangling from his lips, stepped forward. "Who the hell are you?" He demanded, trying to sound tough but failing miserably.

Jordan didn't answer. Instead, he moved forward with a quick, fluid motion, closing the distance between them in an instant. He grabbed the kid by the front of his shirt, lifting him off the ground with one hand and slamming him against the wall of the warehouse. The other kids froze, their expressions a mix of shock and fear.

"Just a message," Jordan said quietly, his voice cold and hard. "Stay out of the way and don't tag places you don't belong."

With that, he punched the kid, scrambling his brain before he turned on the others. They tried to scatter, but Jordan was faster. He grabbed another by the arm, twisting it behind his back and shoving him to the ground. The third kid took a swing at him, but Jordan easily dodged the punch, grabbing the kid's wrist and twisting it hard enough to make him cry out in pain.

He moved with a precision and efficiency that left no room for doubt. He didn't need to use his powers - he was more than capable of handling these kids with just his fists. He made sure to rough them up just enough to send a message, but not enough to cause any serious damage. When it was over, the kids were on the ground, groaning and clutching their injuries, bleeding, a few broken bones, their bravado shattered - but they were alive.

Jordan stood over them, his expression impassive. "Remember this," He said, his voice low and menacing. "Next time, it'll be worse."

He turned and walked away, leaving the kids behind as he headed back to The Vault. He took a roundabout route, making sure he wasn't being followed by anyone else. He'd noticed the tail earlier in the night, someone watching him from a distance, and he wasn't taking any chances on anyone else following him after that fight, the last thing he needed was the attention of another gang while he was busy with this one.

Back at the club, the atmosphere was much the same as when he left - loud music, flashing lights, and a crowd that seemed to thrive on the chaos. Jordan slipped back inside, nodding to the bouncer, who barely gave him a second glance. He made his way to the bar, his expression calm, as if nothing had happened. He ordered another drink, settling back against the counter and scanning the room.

He hadn't been back for more than a few minutes when the lanky guy with the scar from earlier sidled up to him again. He didn't say anything at first, just leaned against the bar next to Jordan and ordered a drink. Jordan waited, not wanting to seem too eager. He was just a guy who enjoyed a good fight.

Finally, the guy turned to him. "Heard you did a number on those punks," He said, his tone approving.

Jordan shrugged. "Just did what needed to be done."

The guy nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Good. We can use guys like you around here. People who know how to handle themselves."

Jordan took a sip of his drink, keeping his expression neutral. "You got more work?" he asked casually, as if it was a passing thought.

The guy chuckled. "Eager, aren't you? Yeah, there might be something. A shipment's coming in soon. We need a few extra hands to keep an eye on things. Nothing big, just guard work. You interested?"

Jordan nodded slowly, as if weighing his options. "I'm interested," He said finally.

The guy clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. "Good to hear. We'll be in touch. Just keep coming around, make yourself useful."

Jordan nodded again, finishing his drink in one gulp. "I'll be here," He replied.

The guy gave him a last nod before melting back into the crowd, leaving Jordan alone at the bar. He watched him go, his mind already spinning with possibilities. The job was another test, another way for them to gauge his loyalty and see what he was capable of. But it was also a step closer to finding Airstrike.

When Tattletale didn't have anything on the guy from what little she could dig up, you just had to do things the hard way. He was both new, and good at staying out of the spotlight, limiting Tattletales avenues to get a read on him.

Jordan spent the next few days maintaining his routine at The Vault. He kept his cover intact, drinking with the regulars, dancing with and fucking the girls, and making sure to keep his eyes and ears open for any mention of Airstrike. He couldn't afford to make any mistakes, couldn't afford to let his guard down.

Even with his powers, none of it would help if one of the guys thought him a cop or a snitch and suddenly shot him in the back of the head. So he couldn't allow himself to actually relax, only act like it.

It certainly made the sex interesting. Always watching that he wasn't about to get stabbed partway through, or that somebody wasn't going to be shooting him for messing with their girl or anything else that usually went on with gangs. Lucky for him, this wasn't a drug heavy gang, so he got away with only smoking marijuana, not needing to 'prove' himself by doing cocaine or anything crazy.

He noticed the gang members watching him more closely now that he had a foot in the door, their eyes following him as he moved through the club. They were sizing him up, deciding if he was worth bringing in deeper. Jordan made sure to give them no reason to doubt him. He played the part of the tough, carefree drifter perfectly, never showing his hand, never revealing his true intentions.

By the end of the week, he was starting to get restless. He hadn't heard a peep about Airstrike, and it was beginning to rankle. He knew he needed to be patient, to play this slow, but it wasn't in his nature. He wanted to move, to act. But he also knew that being hasty could blow his cover, and that would set him back even further.

He considered calling Tattletale again, seeing if she'd come up with any more information. But he knew she'd only tell him to keep doing what he was doing. She'd have a smug smile on her face, enjoying the fact that he was stuck waiting for her to bail him out. And he couldn't deny that she was right. Moving too fast could ruin everything.

On the seventh night after he'd beaten up the posers, the guy with the scar approached him again, this time with a more serious expression. "Got something for you," He said, leaning close so Jordan could hear him over the music.

Jordan raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? What's that?"

The guy glanced around, making sure no one was listening. "The shipment I mentioned. It's coming in tomorrow night. We need a few guys to keep an eye on it, make sure nothing goes wrong. You in?"

Jordan nodded without hesitation. "I'm in."

The guy nodded back, a satisfied smile on his face. "Good. Be here tomorrow night, around eleven. We'll head out from here."

Jordan watched him go, a small smile tugging at his lips. He was in. Finally, he was making progress. He'd find out more about this shipment, get closer to the Black Market Bandits, and maybe, just maybe, he'd find a lead on Airstrike.

The Vault buzzed around him, but Jordan felt calm, his mind focused. He'd come to Cincinnati for a reason, and now it was time to see it through.





The guard job had gone smoothly enough. He'd been assigned to oversee the delivery of a shipment to one of the Bandits' warehouses on the edge of town. The night was cold, the kind that bit into your skin, making every breath a visible puff in the air. Jordan stood by the loading dock, his eyes scanning the shadows, ears perked for any sound that didn't belong. He hadn't been assigned a prime spot to observe from, but he'd managed to catch a glimpse of what was being moved - crates upon crates of military-grade equipment. Assault rifles, high-capacity magazines, even a few RPGs. It was a significant haul, and not the kind of merchandise that just anyone could get their hands on.

Definitely not the level of shit these guys normally moved if they had to bring him in as well to watch over it. The amount of guys guarding this shipment was ridiculous. They really had used as many of their guys as they could just to make sure the shipment went through. It smelled like opportunity, like this was what he'd been looking for. With how nervous they were, and bringing him in, if even on the periphery, they needed all their guys, which told him cape.

Later, he'd called Tattletale to confirm. "Got a peek at the gear they were moving," He'd said, keeping his voice low as he spoke into the burner phone. "Looked like military-grade stuff. Pretty heavy for a small time operation."

Tattletale's voice crackled over the line, full of smug satisfaction. "That's because it wasn't just any operation. Airstrike pulled that job about a week ago. Snagged it off a shipment bound for some private militia abroad. Probably looking to make a quick buck out of it through the only people he knows in the black market."

Jordan had smiled at that. "So the Bandits do have contact with him, then?"

"Bingo," Tattletale had replied, clapping her hands slowly. "You're good to stop playing boss, I'm sure the girls will all cry when you disappear," She added wryly, snickering under her breath.

With that confirmation, Jordan knew he had to take the next step. The Vault was closed during the daylight hours, giving him the perfect opportunity to snoop around - this time in full uniform so the guy who'd partied with them for two weeks couldn't be tied to it. He used Shadow Stalker's power to slip through the locked windows on the second floor, climbing up from an alley he'd scoped that had a dud camera watching over it. His body stayed in that shadowy form, blending seamlessly with the darkness as he moved through the mostly empty club. The silence was almost oppressive, broken only by the soft hum of the refrigeration units behind the bar and the occasional creak of the building settling.

He moved quickly, making his way upstairs to the manager's office. The door was locked, but it took him only a moment to phase through, slipping inside without a sound. The office was a cramped, cluttered space, papers stacked haphazardly on the desk, a few empty liquor bottles lining the shelves. He began his search methodically, rifling through drawers, checking under papers, and flipping through files.

He found what he was looking for in a folder marked 'Special Contacts.' Inside was a series of notes, all handwritten, detailing various dealings the Black Market Bandits had with local capes, including Airstrike. There were mentions of payments, but nothing that gave a direct address or a way to contact him. Frustrated but undeterred, Jordan continued his search, knowing that anything could be useful.

He finally settled behind the desk and pulled out his burner phone, dialing Tattletale. Her voice was clear, tinged with that ever-present smugness.

"What's up, boss?" She asked, almost sing-song, knowing he was calling for help again.

"I'm in the office," He replied, keeping his voice low. "Found some papers, looks like they've done business with Airstrike, but no solid leads. Anything you can do from your end?"

"Put me on speaker," She instructed. "Let's see if we can get remote access to that computer. Not that I'm expecting much, but you never know."

Jordan placed the phone on the desk and followed Tattletale's instructions, accessing the computer and allowing her to remotely connect. The screen flickered as she worked her magic, her fingers flying over her keyboard back at their base.

"Anything?" He asked after a few minutes, watching the screen closely. It was really unlikely, considering the guy kept his computer password on a post it note on his desk, but one could hope. He had criminal dealings plainly there on paper in the file folder after all… Sure it was all in code words, but the kind anyone could easily figure out.

Writing about how much fish to send the cloak, was not a very good way to hide that he meant cash and cape…

"Not much," Tattletale replied, her voice still confident but tinged with impatience. "No self-respecting criminal keeps anything worth a damn on an unlocked or barely protected machine, but it looks like we've got some encrypted files. Could take a while to crack them, but I'll get there." She snorted suddenly, "100 bucks says he's just encrypted his porn."

"Keep at it," Jordan said. "I'll hang around and see if the boss turns up. Might be able to get more out of him." He chuckled briefly, "And no bet. If you're even thinking about it, it probably means you picked up on something about him that makes it true."

Hours later, with Tattletale having found nothing but porn, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway. Jordan tensed, quickly moving to the side of the room where he'd be hidden from view. He reached through his power pulling out a silenced pistol - another toy courtesy of Miss Militia's power. He watched the door handle turn, waiting.

The door creaked open, and a burly man in his late forties walked in. The man was dressed in a cheap suit, his hair slicked back in a greasy attempt at professionalism. His face was lined with stress and poorly concealed anger, his eyes scanning the room as if he knew something was off. Ricky with the silly moniker had some sense it seemed.

Jordan moved swiftly, stepping up next to him and pressing the gun to the side of his head, his other hand coming up to press a finger to his own lips in a silent command for silence when Ricky slowly glanced his way.

Jordan waited a moment, listening for the sound of the guard who'd brought him up leaving, soon enough he heard footsteps retreating down the hall, he gave it another few minutes before he spoke.

"Where can I find Airstrike?" He asked, his tone calm but with an edge that brooked no argument.

The boss swallowed hard, sweat beading on his forehead. "Who the fuck are you?" He demanded, his voice trembling slightly.

Jordan wasn't in the mood for games. He pressed the gun harder against the man's skull. "Where can I find Airstrike?" He repeated, his patience wearing thin. "I don't give two shits about your gang. Give me Airstrike, and I go away. Keep silent, and I go through you all one by one until someone gives me the answer."

The boss hesitated, his mind clearly racing as he weighed his options. Jordan could see the calculation in his eyes - the thought of dying here, in his own office, clearly not something he'd anticipated when he woke up this morning. After a moment, his shoulders slumped slightly, and he let out a shaky breath.

"Alright, alright," He said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "He's got a place - Hilton, downtown. Penthouse suite. That's all I know, I swear."

Jordan nodded, lifting the gun slightly but keeping it aimed at the man's head. He fished his burner phone out of his pocket, which was on an active call, letting Tattletale know what was happening.

"Is he telling the truth?" Jordan asked, his eyes never leaving the man in front of him.

On the other end of the line, Tattletale was silent for a moment, then replied, "Yeah, he's not lying. He's too scared too, he's practically pissing himself."

"Thank you for the confirmation," Jordan said, hanging up, and without another word, he pulled the trigger. The silencer muffled the shot, the sound barely more than a faint pop. Ricky crumpled to the ground, a look of shock frozen on his face. Jordan didn't give him a second glance as he moved to the window, slipping through in his shadow state as the window was alarmed.

He jumped and floated up to the next building over. Once on the roof, he paused to check his surroundings, ensuring no one had seen his exit. He was clear.

Jordan began to make his way across the rooftops, his mind focused on the task ahead. Airstrike was his next target, and now he had a location. The penthouse suite at the Hilton wasn't exactly what he'd expected, but it told him something important - Airstrike wasn't just some thug with a bit of power. He had money, resources, connections. That made him more dangerous, but also an easy target.

He wouldn't expect it. He would feel safe and comfortable. And as a brute, would be easy enough to bait if he felt safe.

As he moved through the city, the wind whipping against his face, Jordan felt a sense of purpose settle over him. He was getting closer. The days spent in the Vault, the drinking, the fighting, the women - it had all been leading to this. A chance to get what he needed.

A chance to get stronger.

Brute power get, then only one or two things… Then I'll be ready for Panacea, for the PRT and Protectorate, maybe even Cauldron…





Jordan found a suitable vantage point in a mostly abandoned office building across from the Hilton. He slipped through a broken window and climbed up the dimly lit stairwell to the roof. The old building creaked under his weight, and the faint smell of mildew and dust lingered in the air. Once on the roof, he crouched behind a rusty air conditioning unit, his eyes scanning the penthouse suite across the street.

The penthouse was luxurious, with floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a clear view inside. Jordan peered through the scope of his sniper rifle, easily called up with just a thought - watching as a man fitting Airstrike's general description moved about inside. The man was tall and muscular, with dark skin and close-cropped hair. He wore casual clothes - a gray t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest and dark jeans. Even in civilian attire, there was an unmistakable aura of ease about him, a certain arrogance in the way he moved, as if the world were his for the taking.

He looked like a villain even in civvies. The attitude was spot on. If the guy was white, he could have taken him for someone like Kaiser, easily.

Jordan observed closely, noting every detail. Airstrike seemed relaxed, confident in his safety. He was unaware that his every move was being monitored and that his life was about to end. If someone had found poor Ricky, no one had informed Airstrike. Jordan needed him out of that suite and onto the rooftop however. For that, he needed to provoke him.

He'd take advantage of how safe the man felt. How invincible he no doubt thought himself. As it was daytime, and he was awake, sneaking into the Hilton was risky, the guy could spot him and that would just make for more of a fight then he needed.

If he could get the guy to the roof, he could blind him and end him in five seconds. Luckily he had the perfect way to get his attention, while also making him feel like he wasn't under threat.

Feeling the weight of the sniper rifle in his hands. He adjusted the scope, lining up the crosshairs with Airstrike's broad chest. He took a deep breath, steadying his aim.

"Come on," Jordan muttered under his breath, his finger resting lightly on the trigger. "Give me your power, I'll make better use of it..."

He fired. The sniper rifle cracked loudly, the recoil jolting his shoulder slightly. Through the scope, he saw the bullet shatter the glass of the penthouse window, striking Airstrike directly in the chest. The bullet flattened against the brute's skin and fell to the floor, but the impact was enough to stagger him, more out of surprise than anything.

Airstrike flinched back, more surprised than hurt, and then his expression shifted to one of fury. He glared out of the broken window, scanning the buildings across the street. He was looking for Jordan, looking for the person who dared to attack him in his own home. Expecting a normal due to the gun. Exactly what Jordan wanted.

"Gotcha," Jordan whispered, a small grin spreading across his face. He immediately turned to shadow, his form dissolving into a black mist that clung to the shadows of the rooftop. He slid behind the massive air conditioning unit, pressing himself against the cold metal. He waited, listening to the wind and the distant sounds of the city below.

It didn't take long. Seconds later, he heard the rush of wind as Airstrike flew across the street, landing heavily on the rooftop with a loud thud. The force of his landing cracked the concrete beneath his feet, sending a few pebbles skittering across the surface. He stood there, chest heaving with anger, his eyes scanning the rooftop, his fists clenched.

"Come out!" Airstrike shouted, his voice a deep, commanding boom that echoed off the surrounding buildings. "You think you can take a shot at me and get away with it? Show yourself, coward!"

Jordan remained silent, hidden in the shadow of the air conditioning unit. He waited, watching as Airstrike's frustration grew, his muscles tensing as he prepared for a fight. He was the type to react violently to any challenge, confident in his brute strength and durability. Jordan could see it in his eyes - the arrogance, the certainty that whoever had dared to attack him would pay dearly.

Jordan smirked to himself, then activated Grue's power, unleashing a thick cloud of darkness that poured across the rooftop, enveloping Airstrike in an impenetrable black fog. Airstrike's eyes widened in surprise, and he stumbled back, disoriented by the sudden lack of sight.

"What the hell - " Airstrike muttered, his voice less sure now.

If he'd had any sense, he would have flown away, but Jordan was already going for him, so his fate was sealed.

Jordan moved quickly and quietly, circling behind him, his movements muffled by the thick darkness. His focus was sharp, every movement precise as he closed in on Airstrike.

Jordan struck, using Damsel's power, just as he got close to Airstrike, the beams of erase you taking the entire upper portion of his body out, going right through his brute rated body.

He didn't need the sight of the half destroyed body to know he'd win, because a headache split his head immediately. A grin spread across his face despite the pain, as he felt a new sensation - a lightness, a freedom. He focused, willing himself to rise, and felt his feet lift off the ground.

He was flying.

A rush of exhilaration filled him, and he shot upward, soaring into the sky above Cincinnati. He could feel the wind rushing past him, the city sprawling out beneath him like a grid of lights. He laughed aloud, the sound carried away by the wind. He didn't linger, knowing he needed to leave town before anyone could trace the commotion back to him.

Although he did have the sense to land and erase the rest of Airstrike, leaving no trace of his body behind. Although the damage to the roof would be noticeable either way.

He flew west afterwards, pushing himself faster and faster, a new sense of power coursing through him. He had the brute strength now, the durability, and the ability to fly. It wasn't Alexandria's invulnerability or Glory Girl's forcefield, but it was more than enough. He was becoming stronger, piece by piece, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him.

As he soared above the city, the lights below slowly fading into the distance, Jordan couldn't help but smile. This was what he needed - a step closer to his ultimate goal. And he wasn't going to stop now. Not until he had everything he needed to protect his sister, to challenge even the greatest powers in the world if they dared to stand in his way.

He would take what he needed, and he would do whatever it took to get there.





Two days later, Colorado.

Jordan sat in the dingy motel room, the faint hum of the overhead ceiling fan doing little to move the stale, smoke-laden air. The room was the kind of place that begged for forgetfulness - faded floral wallpaper peeling from the walls, a cracked mirror above a sink that barely worked, and a mattress that sagged in the middle like a beaten-down fighter. He hadn't paid to be here. Instead, he'd used Shadow Stalker's powers to slip through the door of an empty room, becoming one with the darkness and stepping out the other side.

The less people knew about his comings and goings the better now… He'd caught the beginning of a news show on the way when he stopped for a snack at a gas station, and had decided to move more cautiously.

Now he sat on the edge of the bed, his hands loosely clasped, watching the flickering images on the old television. The screen's light cast harsh shadows across his face, deepening the lines of tension and thought. The news anchor's voice was a constant, droning background noise as she reported on the latest developments, her tone a mix of feigned empathy and professional detachment.

"...And in a shocking turn of events, the cape we now know as Apex, who had previously been identified as the villain Grue, has now been officially linked to the death of Miss Militia. The PRT's ongoing investigation suggests that Apex, a newly confirmed power thief capable of stealing other capes power through murder, may have been responsible for several other murders within Brockton Bay's cape community, including those of Grue and the Ward Shadow Stalker. With his abilities to both steal and combine powers, Apex is considered one of the most dangerous capes currently at large. Citizens are advised to avoid confrontation and report any sightings to local PRT authorities immediately."

Jordan grimaced, watching as the screen cut to footage of PRT agents standing outside a taped-off crime scene. There was no image of him - yet. But the word Apex flashed boldly across the screen, his crimes laid bare as he was run over the coals for all the chaos he had brought to Brockton Bay. The report continued, showing a montage of his suspected crimes - Grue barely shown as they focused on the picture of Shadow Stalker, a quick photo of Damsel of Distress flashed up as well, the dark alley where Miss Militia had met her end. All the while, the ticker at the bottom of the screen scrolled through words that only compounded his dread - Apex - Power Thief on the Loose - PRT Prioritizes Capture.

He had known this would happen. Had expected it any day. The second he'd killed Miss Militia, it was only a matter of time before the PRT put the pieces together with Watchdog at their command. Now, with the media feeding the public a diet of fear and speculation, the PRT's best thinkers were going to be even more focused, and almost exclusively on him, no doubt.

He doubted they had his civilian identity, they didn't even seem to have a description of his cape one. Just the name. So as long as he didn't don the uniform, their own retarded rules would keep him safe until he got the next step done.

Jordan ran a hand through his hair, his mind racing. He was almost strong enough to survive most threats now, but there was still one glaring weakness in his plan. He needed to be a blind spot to be above retaliation - a way to hide from the all-seeing eyes of the PRT and, more importantly, from Cauldron. The only blind spot he knew of that was actually possible for him to get was Mantellum, a Case 53 cape whose powers could disrupt Thinkers' abilities to see or sense anything in his vicinity. But finding Mantellum was a long shot - Case 53s were often hard to track, living on the fringes of society, and Mantellum was no different.

Jordan leaned back against the cracked headboard, staring blankly at the ceiling fan as it creaked above him. Did he even have a choice? Killing a Case 53 came with its own set of risks, not the least of which was that some part of their physical mutations might carry over when he took their power. The last thing he needed was to turn into some monstrous version of himself in a misguided attempt to shield his movements from Cauldron's prying eyes.

The news segment moved on to something else, but Jordan wasn't paying attention anymore. His mind was already on the next step. He had to call Tattletale. If anyone could help him locate Mantellum, it would be her. There would be signs, clues only she could pick up on. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a burner phone.

Just as he was about to dial, a sound at the side of the bed him made his blood run cold. The soft rustle of fabric, the near-silent creak of the worn floorboards. Instinctively, Jordan's body shifted into shadow form, blending seamlessly with the dark corners of the room as he slipped off the bed and backed away toward the wall. A lasgun, formed from Miss Militia's power, materialized in his hand, ready to fire.

He turned, and his heart sank as he saw her - fuckmothering Alexandria herself. She stood in the narrow space of the motel room, her presence dwarfing the shabby surroundings. She was an imposing figure, her black and gray costume clinging to a muscular frame that radiated power and authority. Her long, dark hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, and her sharp eyes, as dark as onyx, scanned the room with cold efficiency. Her cape, a dark, weightless fabric, fluttered slightly in a breeze that wasn't there. Her face was set in a hard, unyielding expression, her jaw tight, and her stance spoke of someone who was accustomed to being in control, who demanded obedience without question.

Jordan's mind raced. How had she found him? Was this the endgame already?

"I wouldn't bother with that," Alexandria said, her voice cool and commanding, with a slight edge of impatience. "It won't do you any good." She nodded towards the lasgun, her gaze unwavering.

Jordan's grip on the lasgun tightened, but he didn't lower it. "How did you find me?" He asked, his voice low and measured, masking the fear gnawing at the edges of his composure.

Alexandria didn't answer immediately. She took a step forward, her eyes never leaving his. "You can't hide from us, Apex," She said, the name sounding foreign and strange from her lips. "We've been watching you since Miss Militia's death. We know what you are, what you can do. And we won't let you get a blind spot, you won't be allowed to hide from us."

Jordan felt a cold chill run down his spine at her words. So, they knew. He'd suspected, but hearing it confirmed was a different thing entirely. They knew he was after Mantellum the second he made the choice. Contessa…

Alexandria eyed him, lips thin in almost a grimace, "However… We are willing to give you some… Leeway, if you cooperate."

"Leeway?" Jordan scoffed, trying to keep his voice steady, even as he felt the walls closing in around him. "You think I'm going to work with you, with a noose around my neck?"

Alexandria's eyes narrowed, her expression as harsh as ever. "You're a killer," She said bluntly. "You'll work however we say you'll work."

Jordan met her gaze, glaring back. "I'm not interested in being your puppet," He shot back. "I can agree to not go after a blind spot, but that's it. I'm not playing your game." Not like I have a fucking choice…

"This is us being nice," Alexandria replied, her tone harsh, unyielding. "You don't want to see what happens when we stop being nice." She hinted.

Jordan clenched his jaw, his mind racing with options, none of them good. "An ambush like this doesn't feel very nice," He retorted, trying to buy time to think.

Alexandria's lips curled into a cold smile, devoid of any real warmth. "We're leaving your sister alone," She said pointedly, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. "That's us being nice."

Jordan froze, his heart pounding in his chest. A flash of anger, raw and uncontrolled, surged through him. "If you touch her…" He growled, his voice a low, threatening rumble. He might not be able to touch Contessa. But he could kill Alexandria.

If fucking Taylor could, he would. If nothing else he could nuke them both, right here, right now.

Alexandria held up a hand, cutting him off. "Whatever you believe, whatever knowledge you somehow have of us," She said, her eyes narrowing, "We're not the bad guys here. We won't touch her."

Jordan laughed bitterly, a hollow, mirthless sound. "Except if you have to stop playing nice, right?"

Alexandria didn't flinch, didn't react to the challenge in his tone. "Then don't make us do that," She replied simply.

Jordan's mind raced. Could he take her down before she could react? His shadow form was nearly invulnerable. But Alexandria wasn't stupid. She was one of the most dangerous capes alive for a reason. And if Cauldron was involved, if Contessa was pathing him, then this entire conversation was already mapped out.

There was no chance for him pulling a surprise attack here. Shadow Stalkers power could kill her. Damsel's power could perhaps do the same. Even Miss Militia's maybe… Depending on things. But it all didn't matter if she already knew it was coming.

Still, he could feel his blood boiling, the anger at being cornered, at being controlled, burning like a fire in his veins. He let his eyes drift over Alexandria, trying to gauge her reaction, to see if he could unsettle her, just a little. Let her know that he wasn't someone who could be caged. Let her read all the ways I could kill her off me, even if I can't use it, feel your invulnerability take a hit, bitch!

"Fine," He eventually spat out, the word bitter on his tongue. "What are the terms?"

Alexandria smiled again, that cold, calculating smile that never reached her eyes. "You'll participate in every Endbringer fight," She said, her tone almost conversational. "We're interested in seeing what your power combination can do. In return, we'll turn a blind eye to your little cohorts and your actions in Brockton Bay."

Jordan's eyes narrowed. "That's it?" He asked, dubious. He didn't exactly relish the idea of fighting Endbringers, but at least his power was suited to firing from afar. That was as safe as one could get in an Endbringer fight.

Except if they wanted him to use Damsel's power…

Alexandria's eyes were hard, her expression fully serious, as she added another term. "You're not allowed to kill Panacea," She continued. "Her future could still be useful, depending on how things work out."

God damn path and god damn Red Queen bullshit. With Sophia dead, that path can't still be viable, surely?

Although he wouldn't put it past Contessa to mind fuck Emma and some other kids to lock Taylor up on schedule.

Jordan clenched his fists, his anger bubbling up again at her words, at the possibility they would just keep the future the same at all costs. "You can't be serious," He said, his voice a low growl. "Panacea is the best shot I have at healing my sister. You're telling me I can't go after her?" Which means if I'd done that from the beginning… I would have had this discussion while still weak…

Alexandria's expression didn't change, her eyes cold and unyielding. "Her abilities have the potential to be valuable, and we're not willing to lose that. Find another way to heal your sister."

Jordan's lips curled into a sneer. "And where exactly do you suggest I find another healer with her skill set?" If there were plenty of them, I wouldn't have picked Panacea to begin with!

Alexandria shrugged, a casual gesture that seemed almost dismissive. "Bonesaw," She said matter-of-factly.

Jordan couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped his lips. "The Slaughterhouse Nine? You don't even dare go near them, and you expect me to? You're out of your mind."

She tilted her head slightly, her expression never wavering. "It's an option," She replied coolly.

"No," Jordan said, his tone firm and final. He didn't want to entertain the idea, even if some part of his mind had already started to turn over the possibility. A hit and run on Bonesaw? It was a death wish, but if he was simply sniping her, maybe… No. Jack Slash and his whole schtick made any encounter with the Nine unpredictable, not to mention the Siberian.

The odds he'd actually take out Bonesaw with one shot, even if he managed to time Shadow Stalkers power to it, were minimal. The little bitch could probably walk off a hole in the head like it was simply Tuesday.

Alexandria raised an eyebrow, clearly reading the conflict in his expression. "Any other rules?" He asked, his patience wearing thin. He just wanted this conversation to be over and done with.

"Don't kill anyone as prominent as Miss Militia again on the hero's side, at least in the Protectorate or the Guild," She said." Or we'll have to come after you. You've already made a big enough mess."

Jordan rolled his eyes. He hadn't exactly planned on doing that again, at least not yet. "I can live with that… For now." He muttered.

Funny how they were leaving all the independent heroes and teams open for him to hunt. So good guys, huh? Fucking Cauldron.

Figuring it was worth a shot, he asked, "Any chance if I'm a good little boy, you'll give me access to the Birdcage?" Because that right there was what you'd call a game changer.

As long as the Fairy Queen didn't get him first.

Alexandria was quiet for a moment, her face inscrutable. She studied him with an intense gaze that seemed to see right through him, as if she were weighing his worth. "We'll see," She said finally. Then, without another word, she stepped back and disappeared into a shimmering portal that blinked into existence behind her.

The portal closed with a faint crackle, leaving Jordan alone in the motel room. He stood still for a long moment, the adrenaline from the encounter still pulsing through his veins, his thoughts a chaotic whirl.

"That's… Promising, at least," He muttered to himself, but the bitterness in his voice betrayed the frustration he felt. The idea of being dangled on a string by Cauldron - by the PRT - made his skin crawl. They were giving him a certain freedom, sure, but on their terms. He could almost see the leash around his neck, ready to yank tight the second he stepped out of line.

He dropped onto the edge of the bed again, letting out a long, slow breath. "Carte blanche to take over Brockton Bay," He whispered, "but no Panacea." That made healing his sister a whole lot more complicated. There were very few healers around, and even fewer who could work on brain injuries. And the fact that Alexandria had even mentioned Bonesaw… Was that supposed to be a serious suggestion, or was she trying to mess with his head?

His mind continued to race, replaying the conversation with Alexandria. Something she said nagged at him.

"If they're pathing me," He said out loud slowly, "Why didn't Alexandria know exactly what information I have or how I got it?"

Maybe Contessa was keeping her in the dark. Or maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as easily pathable as he thought. A small flicker of hope sparked inside him, a tiny kernel of thought that suggested he might have a way around their control. He'd have to test it. Carefully. Very carefully.

He sat there, in the dim light of the motel room, staring at the blank television screen as the implications of what had just happened settled over him. His path forward was unclear, and fraught with dangers. He needed to be smart, to outthink the people who were trying to cage him.

If they thought this was it… Well, he'd show them.

Carefully.




Cauldron meeting room,

Doctor Mother sat at the head of the table, her posture straight and her hands folded neatly in front of her. She wore a crisp, white lab coat that seemed more like a uniform than a necessity, a symbol of her place within the shadowy organization. Her face was impassive, her sharp features giving nothing away as she waited for Alexandria to arrive.

Beside her, Contessa sat with the same calm demeanor, her expression inscrutable behind her dark hair, which hung straight and perfect around her shoulders. She was dressed in her typical black suit, her legs crossed elegantly under the table, her eyes seemingly focused on some distant point beyond the walls of the room. She exuded an air of quiet confidence, as if everything was going according to a plan that only she could see.

A faint hum signaled the activation of the portal, and Alexandria stepped through, her tall, imposing figure instantly filling the space with a sense of tension and unease. She was still wearing her costume, the black and gray material clinging to her muscular frame, her cape billowing slightly from the residual energy of the portal. Her expression was tight, a mixture of frustration and concern etched across her features as she made her way to the table.

"He's on the leash," Alexandria said, not bothering with pleasantries. Her voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet of the room like a knife. "But I don't like this one bit."

Doctor Mother nodded, her expression remaining neutral. "It's a gamble," She admitted calmly, "But a necessary one."

Alexandria's eyes flicked over to Contessa, her brow furrowing with suspicion. "Why did you ask me to give him so much leeway?" She demanded. "He's a power thief, a murderer several times over, and now we're just letting him roam free?"

Contessa's gaze shifted to meet Alexandria's, her face as unreadable as ever. "He's an oddity," She said, her voice cool and measured. "I can't path him perfectly. His many powers, his many agents, seem to add variables that make pathing him difficult to the extreme. He's not a blind spot… Perhaps worse. Every time I look, I see a thousand different options ever changing."

Alexandria's frustration only deepened at Contessa's words. "Then why now?" She pressed, a chill running down her spine at the thought of another dangerous cape who could elude Contessa's abilities. "Why didn't we just take him in when we had the chance?"

Contessa remained calm, her gaze steady and unwavering. "I couldn't find a good path for that," She replied. "And with the difficulty pathing him, the moment he chose to go after a blind spot was one of the few clear points in all the paths. It was the best time to intervene, to make him think he was being predicted."

Doctor Mother leaned back in her chair, her hands tented in front of her as she considered Contessa's words. "So we use him against the Endbringers," She said slowly, her tone thoughtful. "And in the meantime, he'll believe we're always hanging over him, keeping him docile. As good a result as any," She concluded with a slight nod.

Alexandria frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't like this," She said, her voice tight with frustration. "I actually met him unlike you two, and although he's harder to read in that shadow state, he doesn't strike me as the kind of man who'll roll over and play dead just because we tell him to."

Contessa nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement. "He's hard to see, but many times I see him biting back," She agreed.

"Then why?" Alexandria snapped, her patience wearing thin. "We could take him in right now, with some assistance to make sure he doesn't surprise one of us." She hated admitting to that, but she was well aware his power set could actually harm her.

Contessa's lips curled into a faint, enigmatic smile. "I see more paths where he is of great use," She replied simply.

Doctor Mother sighed softly, her gaze shifting between Contessa and Alexandria. "It's not the first gamble we've ever taken," She reminded Alexandria, her voice calm and steady. "You know as well as I do that we've taken risks before. This one is no different."

Alexandria's expression hardened, her jaw clenching as she considered Doctor Mother's words. "Yet this one might become stronger than we can handle if we're not careful," She warned, her voice low and tense.

"Hence limiting him to Brockton Bay," Doctor Mother said, her tone pragmatic. "It suits our project anyway now that Coil was chased out, and it means he will focus there. We can pluck him out when we need him for the Endbringers."

Alexandria gritted her teeth, her frustration evident. "Fine," She said tersely, her voice barely more than a growl. "But I'm not the one telling Keith," She warned. She knew the fact that the Protectorate wouldn't go all out after this power-stealing cape would be hard for Legend to swallow. They could give in-house reasons for their capes, stating they didn't want to feed more heroes into the man's power, but it wouldn't be an easy sell for Legend.

Contessa's gaze was steady, unflinching. "He'll listen to me," She said simply, her tone leaving no room for argument.

And that was that. The finality of Contessa's words hung in the air, a quiet but undeniable assertion of her control over the situation.

Alexandria looked at Contessa, her expression a mixture of frustration and resignation. "Tell me you know what you're doing," She said, her voice almost pleading, a rare crack in her normally unshakeable demeanor.

Contessa just looked back at her, her face calm and placid, her eyes giving nothing away. "Of course," She said, her tone smooth and confident. But behind that placid expression, there was an unsettling sense that even Contessa wasn't entirely sure of the path they were on.

Alexandria turned away, her frustration palpable in the tense set of her shoulders. She didn't trust this plan, didn't trust the risks they were taking. But for now, she had no choice but to follow the path laid out for them.

Doctor Mother watched her go, her expression calm and composed. "We've taken risks before," She repeated softly, almost to herself. "And we'll take them again. It's the only way to survive in this world going forward."

Contessa remained silent, her gaze distant as if she were already looking at a thousand different futures, each one a possibility, each one a gamble.

How interesting, she thought.





Two weeks later,

A portal opened in the base, making Mai and Lisa both jump back, even if they'd known it was coming.

Jordan stepped through, fiddling with his portal gun, the portal closing. "Man, this thing is finicky, only usable in places I've been, and it won't even do it for somewhere I've been once, I have to know the place intimately."

"Yes, imagine, your ten thousandth advantage over everyone else only half does what you want. Oh the horror." Lisa snarked, "Did you get your last target?"

He'd avoided her for the past two weeks, not wanting her to pick his brain while he was still ruminating about Cauldron, so she was fairly annoyed at him it seemed. Oh well.

Jordan nodded simply, "It wasn't a high priority one, but I sniped Rifle from the Red Hands while they were traveling through Colorado."

Lisa snickered, "You sniped the guy who's power makes him an expert sniper?"

Mai raised an eyebrow, "Maybe not flashy," She mused, "But that will come more in handy with your power set then many other powers would have."

"Also it's hilarious." Lisa insisted, slinging an arm around Mai, who gave her a tired look, but didn't fight it.

Jordan smiled wearily, "I'm glad to see you two getting along."

"You're back now, she's your responsibility again." Mai said bluntly, tossing the arm off her shoulders and immediately turning around and walking away.

"I'm not an unruly pet." Lisa said with a pout.

"You're right. Pets can be housebroken." Mai called out before disappearing down the hallway. "And don't make half the mess you do." The last dig barely reached them as she walked out of speaking range.

Jordan figured she'd learnt just as he did that it was best to just walk away if you wanted the last word with Tattletale.

"See how mean she is to me?" Lisa implored Jordan, her eyes wide. "You should do something about that…"

"I'll tell her good job later." He told her dryly, before moving on, eager to see what had changed in their base over the past month and some change.

It's good to be home…




Author's note:

So he wasn't out of Brockton Bay for long. I kind of hinted at the fact he wouldn't be out of the limelight for long after MM. I was going to do another chapter of road trip, realized it would only be for a minor character anyway, and just skipped it.

It won't be the only time he leaves Brockton, now that he can somewhat use a portal gun to visit places he's familiar with.

But this roadtrip got a Cauldron interrupt so he cut it short.

And while not a Blindspot, the accumulation of powers and shards, is throwing Contessa off slightly. He's still somewhat pathable but it's a lot of work and constantly shifting.

I dislike making characters blind spots in worm, but yeah, unfortunately there needs to be something there, unless it's a working with Cauldron story.

Hopefully it turned out alright.

Cheers

JollyHippopotamus
 
Interesting that he's getting difficult to path already. I expected this ~10 powers, given knowledge of power density causing patching issues, but that pathing seemed to work even in fairly dense fights. Not around 5-7, which feels closer to butcher to me, or Fairy Queen, both of who don't have any noted pathing issues. Is it because the powers are fully manifested? Butcher gets a reduced (iirc) version, so I imagine they could hypothetically hit Teacher-level and become a blind spot through accumulation, but the amount of capes/normies they'd need to go through would be... Impractical.

Or is it actually his out of context knowledge somehow throwing things out of wack? I don't get the impression he's simply hard to path because he's outer dimensional, none of the Alternate Earth people were noted as difficult to path either (though maybe it's because most of them were capes? Though MC is a natural trigger so that hardly should matter). Could then be that his shard is going Gestialt slash Titan slash Entity aping, having pulled the (true) future from MC's head. That makes the most sense to me, actually.
 
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