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Brockton's Celestial Forge (Worm/Jumpchain)

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Just realized since Tybalt has a fiat backed don't judge him by appearance power then people won't realize the Tybalt with a goatee is an evil version of him until it's too late.
 
So, last chapter literally ended with Joe and Survey apparating to Uppercrust's door.
Imagine if this chapter was an interlude overlapping with the previous chapter ending as they arrive.
 
It won't be. If it does start out that way, then it would go beyond the point where it meets up.
In that case though, it could be interesting to see Uppercrust's mindset and preparation.
 
Anaja said:
It won't be. If it does start out that way, then it would go beyond the point where it meets up.
In that case though, it could be interesting to see Uppercrust's mindset and preparation.
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
I asked @LordRoustabout about this on AO3 and he said it'll probably be 82 [Insert Title Here] - Addendum Uppercrust, with the Addendum covering Uppercrust's reaction to the healing and anything else that happened in the main chapter, probably with some discussion of his plans now that he's healed.
 
Can't wait.

Edit: Seven more conversational posts if people want the chapter to be first of the next page.
 
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82 Bargaining - Addendum Uppercrust
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    • 82 Bargaining

    Uppercrust's group had rented out an entire floor of the hotel. The expense would have been minor for him and was likely done as a security measure rather than as any kind of luxury or indulgence. Not that there was any shortage of either of those factors. The Brockton Seasons wasn't the nicest hotel in the city, but it was easily top-five, and the penthouse showed that in spades. The top floor was a collection of oversized suites at least twice the size of the largest offerings on the lower floors, each of which were as well appointed as the hotel could manage.

    Uppercrust himself was situated in the floor's largest suites. With connecting doors opened to adjacent rooms it created a complex the size of a house. Outside of that connected set, the floor's other rooms housed his staff and various pieces of equipment or support gear, at least the pieces small enough to be personally transported or too valuable to be stored off-site. The idea of using this level of luxury hotel space as storage would normally have been insane, but the expense of some of the components and equipment he used made storing them off site unthinkable, providing they could actually fit in the rooms.

    Uppercrust's work involved large pieces of infrastructure, with plenty of components not being the kind of thing that you would keep in personal accommodations. Survey had a list of the storage locations and secure containers that had been brought in for the maintenance work. Sensitive pieces were in the care of the PRT while more mundane equipment was held at secure locations or even sourced locally.

    Survey had been able to provide a complete breakdown of the layout of the floor, including pictures that were sourced from the mirror. That was enough to allow direct apparition, especially at my now-expanded skill level with teleportation magics. Normal apparition can create a sound ranging from a slight pop to a thundercrack. My duplicates' early experiments with the art had leaned heavily towards the latter, which resulted in the workshop sounding like a firing range whenever they decided to try it out during their 20% time. Now, with the benefit of my Efficiency power and my shadow element, there was only the slightest of sounds in response to apparating in front of the door to Uppercrust's set of suits with Survey at my side.

    That was probably for the best, since at the moment we appeared the connection I'd been worried about decided to arrive. The instant the world finished shifting around us I felt a titanic mote from the Knowledge constellation being secured by my power and drawn towards me. I held position outside Uppercrust's door while I wrestled with the implications of my latest power.

    The world can turn on a single whisper. Release the right secret at the right time and history diverges. Possibilities bloom or wither from the weight of information. People who dismiss statements like 'knowledge is power' fail to recognize the foundation of their own strength. Information is a chain, extending from inception to action, and able to move mountains when fully engaged.

    I could see the inception of that chain. The memory or understanding or whatever you want to call it was indistinct, disconnected, but I could understand the mechanics in play. The conditions that had led to this ability and the impact it had wrought on its world.

    The pulse of Iota waves, a surge of psionic energy that altered developing brains, allowing them to make the connection. Then the Tau waves, which persisted rather than dispersed the way the Iota waves had. Persisted through both space and time. A connective field, unbound by causality and accessible by only the select few who could hear the whispers.

    That was the name of the power. Whispered. I could understand the significance of the term, what it must have meant for whatever world this ability had originated from. Through chance exposure to a specific incident, a handful of people had the power to connect to the Tau field and access the information contained within. The whispers in their mind that could change the course of the world.

    The Tau waves weren't constrained by time. I understood the concept better than most, having personal experience with similar effects. That was the power of the Whispered, access to knowledge beyond time, technology from the future drip fed into their minds, along with the capacity to make use of it. To introduce new concepts and ideas decades before their time. They became the source of truly disruptive elements, the Black Technology that had come to define the global balance of power.

    And I had my own example of it. In my workshop stood a M6 Bushnell second generation Arm Slave mech. Eight meters tall and eleven tons, operating from a gas turbine engine with a top speed of 138 kilometers per hour.

    The technology was ridiculously primitive by my standards and also fell short of most tinker projects, but that wasn't the point. It specifically wasn't some wondrous masterpiece of technology or the work of an eccentric artisan. It was a mass-produced piece of military hardware. The principles of Black Technology, the secrets of the Whispered, had made their way into global arms manufacturing.

    I had seen advanced military technology before. Hell, I had received my fair share of it, but that had been, by every indication, the product of conventional development processes. Innovations coming from research and development, exploitation of unique resources, or the benefit of revolutionary discoveries. The world hadn't turned at the whims of a handful of precognitive weapons engineers.

    There was a significant engineering aspect to this power. Designs and scientific principles alone wouldn't have been able to allow the technology to achieve that level of penetration. The Whispered had unbelievable levels of proficiency with math, science, and engineering, and not just because of the advanced concepts being provided to them.

    Tau waves existed outside of time and, as such, they provided shortcuts in more ways than supplying early copies of technical manuals. There was a limit to how much advanced knowledge could improve someone's cognitive abilities, but that became irrelevant once you took time out of the equation. Equations were actually the point. There were a significant number of problems that weren't difficult so much as tedious. Where there were no effective shortcuts and they just proved to be frustrating time sinks. That is, unless your mind connected to an extratemporal energy system that was capable of providing the answers from the future in which the equations had been solved.

    Ironically, it was similar to the principles I had built my spiritron computer to address, only now built into my own cognitive abilities. Whispered could function at a level beyond even the best equipped research teams because they blatantly cheated to get their answers. It was the kind of power that allowed mass integration of humanoid mechs into the world's militaries as a starting point. Black Technology, it went much further than that.

    No Whispered had the full picture of what was available. A single mind couldn't encompass the entirety of the Tau field without destroying itself, but what could be gained was invaluable. Like tinkers, they had specialties, but always to a dramatic degree, taking technology to the point that bent reality to their whims. Complete control of electromagnetism. Mechs built to insane levels of strength and precision. Strong A.I. supported by nothing more than conventional computer architecture. Refinement of existing technology to the point of conceptual perfection. And then you had my specialization.

    The Lambda Driver.

    I could hear the whispers explaining the concepts behind false axis repulsive field generation. It stood as one of the hallmarks, the cornerstones of Black Technology. Suspension of Newtonian physics through generation of force without physical interaction, limited to the 'false axis'. Just as the origin of Black Technology extended beyond conventional space, so did highest examples of the it's works.

    That was because the Lambda Driver didn't 'just' freely apply force to objects. The interaction mechanism was dependent on the user, allowing emotional patterns to manifest into raw power, power far beyond what was used to fuel the device itself. I had the plans for an engine that turned willpower into pure force.

    Really, it was serendipitous. The device couldn't have been a better match for spiral energy, first as a development tool and then as a supplemental asset. A way to take the mindset necessary to generate spiral energy and draw even more insanity from it. Sheer will, projected into the world through technology.

    It was a reminder that this power extended far beyond just a technical base. From an external perspective it probably looked like any other tinker or technology-based power. That was no doubt how it must have been regarded in its home universe. In reality, the technological expertise and scientific knowledge were just a side effect of profound psionic abilities and a persistent connection to the Tau wave.

    Every one of the Whispered was connected to the field to the point where it intrinsically linked them. It must have been a profound experience in the original universe. Unfortunately, I was the only Whispered on Earth Bet, meaning I was only connected with myself. The thing was, for me, that actually had some serious implications.

    'Can you believe this?' The voice of one of my duplicates echoed in my mind. This wasn't the little note passing we had done through linked neural implants. This was full-on telepathy, a psychic link with alternate versions of myself.

    'It's a lot to take in.' I admitted. Mind to mind communication was a completely different medium from anything I had experienced before. You weren't just transmitting words, you were conveying meaning, intent, and even emotion. Compared to it, even the most expressive verbal conversation was like hearing a bad text-to-speech program, one that struggled with not just tone, but punctuation and specific pronunciations.

    'Easier after Feel It Out.' He replied. 'Already being psychic definitely helps with this.'

    'You got a TAROS set up already?' I asked. His response wasn't just words, but a full experience of the construction process.

    'Our Noble Phantasm is awesome like that.' The Transfer and Response Omni-Sphere had been constructed virtually the instant my duplicates acquired the power. He had built the pod-like device around himself while my other duplicate worked to update the Workshop records on the new power. It was a piece of Black Technology that greatly enhanced the ability to connect to the Whisperer.

    Through the use of a TAROS you could fully unite with the Tau wave, breaking the limits of the power. It allowed access to the highest levels of Black Technology, cognition at a scale that would be impossible for a human mind, flawless mind-machine interfaces, and even information on the future.

    That last possibility was the most difficult and least reliable. Immersing yourself in the Tau wave was dangerous and trying to access specific extra-temporal information was doubly so. You also had the problem of the ever-shifting future, particularly in the chaotic system of human interaction. Most predictions would either be incredibly short term or completely inaccurate. The further the event was from factors that could affect it, the better the chance of a solid prediction.

    A solar flare could be predicted more accurately than a tectonic event, which could be predicted more accurately than a hurricane, which could be predicted more accurately than virtually any form of human activity. No Earthly activity was going to change the fusion patterns within a star, and the factors affecting earthquakes were generally independent of other activity, barring extensive mining projects or Endbringer activity. Anything else was probably not going to be worth the effort it would take to secure the prediction.

    I was exceptionally physically and mentally resilient and even so, I was acutely aware of the risks that came from messing with the Tau wave. I could feel the strain on my duplicate's mind as he skimmed the surface of that energy field. I could also feel the promise, the potential power and advantages that could be gained. I had to wonder, how many of the other Whispered had critically damaged themselves chasing something they didn't even understand?

    Because I could do more than feel the Tau wave, I could understand it. I had some unique advantages on that front. Preexisting psionic abilities, comprehensive understanding of advanced physics, the nature of minds, and the dynamics of dimensional structures. Without my other powers and experiences, I would be at a loss. The scraps of information and vague hints I'd received from the whispers wouldn't even be enough to create proper Black Technology. There would still be engineering genius and psionic ability, but not the full understanding of the nature of the effect.

    But I did understand. I wasn't receiving the whispers from the Tau wave. This wasn't a blind natural force that could be bent to someone's whims. There was an intelligence behind it, a consciousness. Whatever event had set all this in motion, there had been a person at the heart of it, and they had been caught up in it ever since. The secrets behind everything came from the ability to communicate with a trapped mind spread across time itself. Whispered was telepathy masquerading as precognition masquerading as engineering proficiency.

    'Thank you for setting that up.' I conveyed to my duplicate. 'Without it, we wouldn't have known what we were dealing with.'

    'We would have suspected.' He replied. 'And a worry like that is the last thing you need bothering you during your meeting.'

    I nodded slightly. The idea of a sapient mind trapped in a disembodied state would never NOT bother me, but there was nothing I could do about the situation that my duplicates weren't in a better position to handle. Really there was little that could be done about it in the first place, but that wouldn't stop us from trying. One more thing to deal with, it's not something I could afford to let distract me.

    Or distract me any further. The contemplation of the ability and my communication with my duplicate had happened at the speed of thought, but I was still stalled outside Uppercrust's suite after having bypassed all of his security measures. This was definitely not the place to get lost in your own head. Or the head of your duplicates.

    'We'll drive this stuff home. You focus on your meeting.' He assured me.

    'Right. And be careful.' I cautioned.

    'Oh, yeah. Have to be careful with unshielded resonate telepathy.' He chided. 'If we don't limit it we could end up blending our memories and experiences together. Wouldn't that be terrible?'

    I suppressed a grin. The kind of mental bleed-through that was the main limitation of Whispered-to-Whispered telepathy was less of a bug and more of a feature in our case. The Exsphere had been a stopgap for the loss of my duplicate's experiences, but this kind of mental crossover could be the first step to completely preserving the limited time of their existence.

    And maybe it would also mean I'd stop finding mysterious projects constructed during their downtime. I know we currently had thirty-two cubic kilometers of basement space, but I would have at least liked to have known before my duplicates decided to add a one-to-one recreation of Khazad-dûm.

    Survey drew my attention back to the hotel hallway. Magical sensors were picking up expressions of a parahuman ability originating from within Uppercrust's suite. It was easily tracked back to the man in yellow and black armor I had seen with the Elite group at Somer's Rock.

    Survey had already prepared reports well in advance of this meeting and we'd had more than enough time to review the information in the spiritron simulation. The man in question went by the cape moniker Yellowjack. He was a thinker-striker with low ratings in shaker and blaster.

    His main power was a clairvoyant effect that could extend through and be conducted by objects. It created invisible nodes of energy that he could extend his awareness through, effectively spreading his senses over an area. Analysis of his powers was limited, but it was suspected to be fairly indistinct awareness unless the area was heavily saturated with his power. That level of concentration created an audible effect as the nodes charged, building to enough intensity to rattle loose objects.

    That was the source of his shaker and blaster ratings, though most accounts described the effect as uncomfortable or distracting rather than directly harmful. No, harmful came when someone closed to melee range and received a concentrated burst of energized nodes. Based on the nature of his power, it was likely he received a very comprehensive view of the damage that was inflicted.

    'Looks like they know we're here.' I transmitted to Survey, as if the man scrambling to inform Uppercrust didn't give things away. It felt mildly invasive to watch the reactions of the four capes in the room, but this wasn't the time to let courtesy impose unnecessary risk. The Alchemy constellation passed by as I raised my hand and knocked sharply on the door.

    The fact that we had announced ourselves seemed to snap the room's inhabitants out of their frantic near-panic. They had been expecting my arrival, or at least hoping for it. The fact that it didn't involve a call from the front desk and a set of sweeps from their security team wasn't going to throw them off to any significant degree.

    Uppercrust issued a series of quick commands, with Yellowjack pulling back in a poor attempt to look casual. There were some slight shifts from the other capes as they adjusted their posture or costumes. Jacob's Ladder was already on his feet and briskly made his way towards the door. After a slight pause for a final check with Uppercrust he pulled the door open.

    The corner suite wasn't overly luxurious, but it was exceptionally well appointed and expansive, sporting a truly impressive view of the skyscrapers that characterized Downtown. Glancing out, it was another reminder of how sharp the divide in the city could be. In addition to the complete lack of visible damage, that part of the city was built up to a level that wouldn't have looked out of place in the heart of New York. A tiny drop of excessive metropolitan architecture, standing as the fruits of the city's brief tech-boom in the late nineties.

    The explosive growth might have leveled off, but the money stayed, at least in those sectors. But I wasn't here to muse on the economic situation or class divide. The fact that my mind even jumped to that probably indicated I'd been spending too much time in the Docks as of late. I quickly shifted my focus from the room to its contents.

    The comfortable seating area had seen a number of modifications, bringing it closer to an open-plan office or command center than a hotel room. Given that the additional desks and cabinets matched the rest of the furniture I was willing to bet that the conversion had been facilitated by the hotel. I suppose that if you're throwing enough money at someone little things like interior design become trivial.

    There was another factor clearly demonstrated through the layout. Despite the additional worksurfaces, the room was far from cluttered. There was an open spacing and a focus on wide walkways. Any workspace that was specific to Uppercrust himself was aligned with clear and easy access to the rest of the room, minimizing the amount of fine movement necessary. A concession to his condition, and a testament to its severity, if the mountain of medical equipment that filled the bedroom wasn't indication enough.

    Jacob's Ladder stepped back from the door in a smooth motion, turning to Uppercrust. "Apeiron and Survey to see you, sir."

    I had to give him credit for playing up the role. I could tell he enjoyed his position, though that was probably partially from the novelty of it, if the timeline of his recruitment was any indication. He was able to slip into the role of dedicated assistant with only a few quick side glances towards Survey and myself. Well, mostly towards Survey.

    "Thank you, Jacob. Please see them in." Uppercrust said as he set aside his work. Jacob turned back to us and politely gestured us inside. I smiled and walked into the room like I hadn't just been mentally linked with a psionic intelligence that existed beyond the reaches of time itself.

    Survey strode in a step behind me. On the surface she looked calm and elegant, but I could tell how aggressively she was analyzing the situation. I had brought her along for that exact reason, but I may have underestimated her vigilance in that department. As we entered a steady stream of analysis and threat assessment flowed to me through our secure link.

    It amounted to a very complicated way of saying that everything was fine. My own expanded senses were confirming as much, with the added benefit of the Dragon's Pulse, which Survey was still less adept with than myself. Also less adept than Tetra, but it was better not to mention that particular sore spot.

    Unsurprisingly, I was picking up tension from everyone in the room. Different flavors of tension, but nobody was approaching this meeting with the relaxed attitude they were attempting to project on the surface level.

    Yellowjack was definitely on edge. I could detect the reach of his power through the room, the set of rooms actually, in a way that had been conspicuously absent at Somer's Rock. Considering his ability, he probably would have had a decent chance at eavesdropping on the other groups, but either Uppercrust respected the truce too much for that to happen, or it was deemed that nothing that could be learned from the other gangs would be worth the trouble. Considering that was potential exposure in exchange for being able to listen to Merchant banter, I could understand why they had abstained.

    Without the restrictions of the summit truce, his power flowed freely, monitoring the area in the same manner that had allowed him to detect our arrival. From the way he was responding to the sensory input I was willing to bet his multitasking and information management abilities were nowhere close to Taylor's level. From the look of things, he had trained himself to hide his reactions, but I could feel the way he responded whenever fresh information from his power flowed in, in contrast to Taylor who seemed to treat her insects as an extension of her consciousness.

    Of course, Taylor couldn't make someone's chest explode with a touch, so it balanced out. I mean, I was pretty sure she couldn't. Considering everything I had given her since the bank job, there wasn't anything with direct combat applications, but then again, this was Taylor. Nothing was completely certain.

    Yellowjack was one of the older members of Uppercrust's branch of the Elite. His name traced back to the early days of his cape career, the result of a combination of 'Yellowjacket' already being taken and getting into a rather public feud with a vigilante who went by Blackjack. There were probably worse identities that you could have been saddled with based on decisions made in your teenage years.

    Speaking of which, Jacob's Ladder was very clearly out of his depth, but doing everything in his power to hide that fact. I wasn't sure if he was still a teenager, but he was clearly trying to appear older and more experienced than he actually was. Survey had seen through his claim about a history in private security with almost no effort. It was part of a front of competence that the man had been trying to maintain since Uppercrust had brought him on.

    My expanded senses were pretty comprehensive, but they weren't actually telepathy. I mean, I did have telepathy, but it was critically underdeveloped and the expansion from my Whispered power was more of a specialized application than an overall boost. The point was, while I couldn't actually read Jacob's Ladder through mental scanning, my other senses were able to create a pretty good map of what his reactions were.

    Those reactions amounted to borderline panic, terror at the possibility of fucking up a situation this critical, and a desperate attempt to conceal any hint of the reason he glanced at Survey every chance he got. If I had to guess, I'd say he was running on the theory of 'fake it till you make it'. That was probably something that worked a lot better when he was acting as chauffeur than when he was attending a meeting of the most powerful capes in the country.

    The third member of Uppercrust's team was more restrained than the other two. It was the type of calm you consistently saw from higher end brutes. Ferrona politely inclined her head as we entered, but through my sensors I could detect the stern expression hidden under the mask that concealed her nose and mouth. Her red and blue costume lacked the reinforcement of Yellowjack's armor, with the only notable feature being the large iron bracers on her wrists.

    Ferrona was one of the stand-out members of Uppercrust's branch. A much more recent addition than Yellowjack, but one who had quickly made a name for herself. She was a brute, but far from the 'generic' brute package. Precise analysis of her abilities wasn't publicly available, but her power apparently functioned by creating a sympathetic connection with ferrous alloys in her vicinity. She had the ability to transfer force or even damage between herself and concentrations of iron-rich metal. There was some level of redirection possible in the transfer, which allowed fairly advanced techniques to be performed with the help of her boots and bracers.

    One of her most famous showings involved a fight against a cape who seemed to believe he was making progress, racking up damage faster than it could be redirected, only to find he had actually been shattering the support beams of the building the two of them had been fighting in. After the collapse Ferrona had to be excavated from the rubble, while the villain cape… Well, it's unlikely that there was any truth to the rumors about using a wet-vac to recover his remains, but that probably wasn't an unreasonable assessment of his condition.

    Ferrona observed our arrival with stalwart caution. Not the contained energy of Yellowjack or the desperate attention of Jacob's Ladder, but a kind of steady assessment. A focused regard that balanced out Yellowjack's split attention, which was probably Uppercrust's intention in the composition of the team.

    What I was getting from Uppercrust was a complete departure from the reactions of his team. There was tension there, sure, and a very clear picture of exactly how poor his health was. Actually, it seemed to be on a downward trend from the last time I had seen him. The condition hadn't notably worsened, but he wasn't handling it as well as he had been. I had to wonder if that was the result of some treatment, or if he just happened to have been in unusually good form during the summit.

    Despite his condition, he was bubbling with excitement. There was tension, but it was more of a 'kid at Christmas morning' thing than the borderline fight-or-flight reflex I could feel from the rest of his team. His mannerisms gave no hint of the storm of emotions bubbling beneath the surface, no doubt the product of years and years of cape experience. His position would have put him up against not just skilled negotiators, but thinkers and masters as well. Iron discipline was locking down any sight of the hope welling within him.

    "Welcome, and my thanks for accepting our invitation." He said with sparkling eyes. That was something that stood out. Even with this thin face, emaciated body and the limited movements of his gestures, there was a vitality in his eyes that stood against every other aspect of his being. "I trust you must have been inundated by similar offers."

    I smiled as the Resources and Durability constellation passed by. "You'd be surprised." I admitted, inclining my head politely to the rest of his team before continuing. It was honestly refreshing to be able to move in public without trying to restrain the effects of my efficiency, appearance, or posing powers. Ferrona blinked and leaned back slightly as she began tracking my movements much more closely.

    "Plenty of general requests, it is an open site." I continued and Uppercrust nodded in understanding. "Though the major groups seem reluctant to reach out. I commend you on being the first."

    "Ha." He said, his smile widening. "The advantages of lacking an entrenched presence. Something I personally quite enjoy. Moving between cities the way I do; you rarely need to worry about the long-term consequences of minor missteps." His expression turned serious. "Though there are exceptions, of course. Not every power is content to remain confined to a single city."

    "Speaking from experience?" I prodded.

    "Indeed." He said with a smile. "The Elite certainly cast a broad net, though I personally manage only a small portion of it."

    That was true, but only if you considered direct management rather than influence. Even setting aside the significance of Uppercrust's work to the reputation of the Elite as a whole, the man was a founding member and one of the most successful directors. He had a level of pull within the organization that went well beyond his official authority.

    "Your offer was certainly enticing." I said. "While I prefer not to reveal details of the actions of my team, I must admit we have not been able to successfully locate Bakuda or the remnants of the ABB."

    That seemed to amuse Uppercrust. "I appreciate your openness, but based on past events, I imagine if you had found their location it would be fairly apparent to everyone in the city."

    I felt like I should make some defense of my capacity for discretion, but considering the fallout from my last major fight was still affecting weather patterns, that probably wasn't the strongest case I could have made.

    "I am sure that, whatever the fallout, it will be preferable to allowing Bakuda to operate unchallenged." I replied diplomatically.

    "You will get no argument from me on that front." Uppercrust responded. "The Unwritten Rules exist for a very good reason." He shook his head slowly. "Too many capes treat them as technicalities that can be shirked when the opportunity presents itself." His eyes hardened as he spoke. "The incentive for the Unwritten Rules is not the retaliation of another organization, but the consequence of living in a world where they are disregarded."

    "Well said." I replied with a nod, but my enthusiasm was tempered.

    You could tell he was speaking from experience, even without the full brief on his history as a cape that Survey had provided. Despite Uppercrust's sterling reputation, the Elite were far from a benevolent organization. When faced with an opponent of that magnitude, plenty of capes happily disregarded any conventions that proved to be disadvantageous.

    The actions of branches of the Elite had triggered far more violations of the Unwritten Rules in their opponents than they had committed themselves. Really, that was more a commentary on the nature of cape work than an indictment of their practices, but it was something that was important to keep in mind. Uppercrust's work was important and he had done an immense amount of good in his life, but he shared the table with people like Bastard Son, a cape that had come up more than once as a point of comparison when reviewing the Slaughterhouse Nine.

    I was careful not to show any hint of concern or apprehension, not at this stage of the discussion. That could come later, depending on what he was offering and what he wanted. I mean, beyond healing. That was a given, even if everyone was conspicuously not mentioning it.

    "On that subject, would you care to join me in my office to discuss matters?" He turned to Survey. "And will your lovely associate be joining us? In honesty, in preparations we were not certain of the size of your group."

    It was the lightest of jabs as the debut of my team at Somer's Rock, something that he had taken far better than the other parties in attendance.

    "I believe a personal conversation would be more beneficial." I said, turning slightly to Survey. While she would certainly have been an asset in any discussions or negotiations, she would also be a distraction. A lot of this would be about building a rapport. Outnumbering Uppercrust and including a literally inhuman beauty wouldn't do any favors on that front. "Survey has accompanied me for security reasons."

    While the Elite capes never truly relaxed, they had calmed slightly from their early levels of reaction. That went out the window at my words, with each of them looking ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. It was a transition conducted with a speed that made the experience of the capes clear. Well, in the case of Jacob's Ladder it was more enthusiasm and dedication, but that could accomplish almost as much.

    Before they could react any further I nodded to Survey. "Survey, would you please?" I said.

    "At once." She replied. Her tone was serious, but there was a hint of a smile on her face. To be fair, this was a unique application of her abilities, something only she could do, the product of her own training, development, and specific approach.

    Looking at her, I had to separate my own experience from how things would appear to people who could only observe through conventional senses. I could see a lot further than that. The alchemy arrays integrated into her physical form, precisely formatted out of Cybertonium flesh. Arcane crafted enhancement equipment boosting an effect to beyond mastery. Millions of complex functions coming together, drawing data from impossible sensors to form a fundamental expression of the first principle of alchemical transmutation.

    To the rest of the room, it was a lightshow. Blue lightning crackled across Survey's body. Her long white hair flared as the energy drew it in invisible currents. In a single great pulse, the energy shot out, crackling along every surface, dancing across walls and ceilings, and carrying on well past the bounds of the room. Even the open spaces were flooded with energy, leaving sparkling motes hanging in the air for the briefest instant before they faded away like melting snow.

    I had the results the instant they were compiled. Survey had wasted no time in transmitting the results, but there was a level of showmanship to be maintained. She turned to me and nodded. "There are no undetectable elements present in the area. The location is secure."

    In spite of the apparent contradiction of confirming something that couldn't be detected, her statement wasn't met with the slightest hint of doubt or skepticism from the Elite's capes. I honestly wasn't sure if that was due to the reputation of the Celestial Forge, or if it spoke to the breadth of their experience with Parahumans.

    "A sensible precaution." Uppercrust echoed. "Jacob? Please ensure the support staff and hotel management is informed of the fact. It would be best to head off any undue concern."

    "Yes, sir." He said quickly. With a polite nod to both of us, which lingered a fraction of a second longer on Survey, he hurried out the door.

    "Shaker effect." The words from Yellowjack drew our attention. "Material based, to confirm sensor data. Identification of deviations from modeled arrangements? No notable alterations in the affected substrate, so viable as a rapid confirmation, and proof against any obscurement effect."

    "As long as it's not based on memory or perception." Ferrona added.

    "An accurate assessment. That particular method would not be sufficient to identify Lethe's presence without some means of countering the primary expression of her abilities." Survey replied without missing a beat. Her openness seemed to shock the two capes more than her display of power.

    I considered the situation as the Knowledge constellation missed a connection. Personally, I would have preferred to keep as many of the details of our abilities concealed for as long as possible, but that kind of approach was kind of a double-edged sword. It was important for keeping information away from critical players that we would need to confront in the future, but experience had shown that just because people didn't have precise information on our capabilities didn't mean they assumed we were harmless. The kind of mad extrapolations that could be drawn from scant details could result in actions that were even worse than what an informed group might attempt.

    Balancing the advantages of secrecy with the benefits that came from having connections outside the group was difficult. Leaning heavily towards the former had led to the runaway policies from the PRT that characterized my early career, but also potentially prevented March's coordination of the ABB's attack from being even more devastating. Still, after the massively public display of that battle, it was probably time for a bit more of the latter.

    Yellowjack shifted slightly at Survey's attention. I was guessing he hoped the tint of his armor's visor would conceal the blush that was spreading across his face. "It's a fascinating application, obviously only possible with complementary abilities, but the ideal means of addressing obstructions to localized observation abilities."

    Survey smiled at Yellowjack and I could feel him restrain his reaction. "It is a technique I am personally pleased with. Concealment effects, both parahuman and tinker based, can be quite frustrating to address, as I'm sure you're aware." She gave the man a slight nod. "I must say, on reviewing your records I was quite impressed by how you managed conflicting stranger elements during the Elite-Protectorate coordinated actions at the 2007 Tampa Civic Center incident."

    Whatever iron discipline the man had developed in his career didn't hold up to the surprise reference to his earlier exploits. To be fair, that discipline was already eroding in the face of direct attention from Survey, but I'm fairly certain Yellowjack didn't expect to receive compliments on his earlier exploits. Uppercrust and Ferrona just watched his reaction with amusement.

    "Uh, yes. That was…" He trailed off for a moment and emotions flickered across the portion of his face that was visible, with my sensors filling in the rest of his expression.

    While Survey and I hadn't reviewed Uppercrust's history to nearly the level of detail we devoted to the Slaughterhouse Nine, we had enough time to review major incidents involving the key members. The event she was referencing was one of the few official collaborations between the Protectorate and the Elite that didn't fall under the S-Class truce. Yellowjack had handled the coordination of the entire parahuman response, to considerable public acclaim. Still, you didn't receive public acclaim for minor acts. I could see shadows of the severity of the incident in his carefully curated reactions.

    "My, that does take me back." Uppercrust mused. "Quite the shining moment for Yellowjack and the Elite as a whole." He turned to me. "Perhaps your companion would like to hear a personal account of the event while we commence our own discussion?"

    I glanced at Survey and she gave a polite nod. "Public information on the incident is limited. I would appreciate the insight that Yellowjack could provide on the events in question."

    "Capital." Uppercrust said cheerfully, clearly enjoying the way Yellowjack floundered slightly as Survey approached him. He recovered quickly and guided her to a small sitting area near the main windows. I glanced at Ferrona as she rose to her feet as well. She gave me an amused look, rolled her eyes towards Yellowjack, then smiled under her mask. I had the sense she was enjoying his reaction nearly as much as Uppercrust.

    The man in question had used the distraction provided by his subordinates to conceal the amount of effort required for him to rise from his seat. I could track his movements perfectly with my additional senses, but made sure not to turn back until he was standing and supported by his cane.

    "Now, would you care to join me in the attached office?" He spoke as he moved slowly but consistently towards one of the suite's side rooms. Ferrona led the way, moving with carefully paced steps and politely opening the door with a hint of showmanship. The movements came off as practiced, deliberate. It was a way to cover for and divert attention from Uppercrust's condition, something his inner circle was probably well practiced at.

    "Of course." I said, following him at a sedate pace. I could tell Uppercrust had worked the limitations of his condition into his mannerisms at a fundamental level. So many of the little quirks of movement or eccentricities of personal habits were actually strategic decisions, ways to cover for his illness, likely to provide a buffer for periods when it proved seriously debilitating. He was being more reserved than he needed to be, but was doing so with the clear understanding that there would be times where even the leeway provided by those personal idiosyncrasies wouldn't be enough.

    It wasn't being done for my benefit. I was sure of that. The fact that I could see it at all was a result of my expanded senses and knowledge base. Mental Fortress made me aware of manipulation, and any manipulation here was designed to draw attention away from his physical condition, not garner sympathy for it.

    There had actually been very little in terms of manipulation attempts so far. There was control of presentation, and the choice of venue and promise of thinker support against the ABB had been intended to sway my disposition towards him, but those had been actions so overt they could barely be considered manipulative. At least not any more than standard interactions would be. It really seemed like Uppercrust intended to play things straight with me, at least at the start.

    Following Uppercrust, I found a nicely appointed room built with a calm atmosphere. Unlike the central area, this was clearly designed for the purpose of functioning as an office, rather than being haphazardly converted by the hotel. I don't imagine most people book out a penthouse suite in a major hotel for the purposes of catching up on paperwork, so the room probably served as more of a retreat than a dedicated workspace.

    There was a large oak desk backed by a full-length window overlooking the city. One wall was covered in bookshelves filled with the kind of leather-bound tomes that were typically selected for their aesthetic rather than their contents. A quick review of earlier scan data confirmed the books were a mishmash of reference material with no common theme to their topics. The collections certainly looked nice, but more emphasis was placed on the various portions of the shelves left open for various knickknacks and decorative items.

    On reflection, I may have been spoiled by the way my Workshop married design and functionality. After getting used to that, there was something hollow about a space designed to look like it was productive and useful, but with no real substance to back up that impression.

    It was actually the more superficial aspects of the room that I was more comfortable with. The art on the walls was clearly selected to match the tone rather than serve as outstanding examples of the craft, but it wasn't putting up a front of utility. Same could be said of the neatly designed seating area, though the marble chess board on the coffee table definitely worked better as a showpiece, matching the color scheme of the room, than a game board.

    With a second look, it seemed that the utility of the space was even more secondary to Uppercrust than it would have been for most residents of the hotel. Everything was completely untouched and had probably remained so from the point of his arrival. The area outside the office was a living space, a place of business and planning. This was a sterile alcove, an extra bit of unnecessary space that provided some minor utility for private conversations.

    "Please forgive the presumption." Uppercrust said, gesturing to a decanter of amber liquid and a pair of glasses on the coffee table as he settled into one of the seats. "I didn't wish to make assumptions regarding your tastes, but I thought some refreshment might make things more comfortable."

    I smiled as I took the seat across from him. "I suppose the single order at Somer's Rock was enough to convince people of a lifelong preference for certain types of alcohol." I said as I nodded towards the bottle.

    "In the absence of other information, I think you'll find people will run with what assumptions they are able to support, well past the point of reason." He replied as he filled the glasses.

    It was hard to watch, being able to feel the strain involved. The other capes hadn't vanished from my senses, but it was easier to focus on Uppercrust. This close, with this much attention from my detection abilities I could feel out every twinge, every weak or unsteady muscle, every labored breath that was carefully concealed through careful speech patterns, and beneath all that the slow deterioration of his body.

    He didn't let any of that show as he went through the motions of pouring the liquor. As the liquid splashed into the cups a rich scent filled the room. Instantly I knew that this was the good stuff. At Somer's Rock the bar staff had given me what was probably their top shelf bottle, but this was a realm beyond what you would find in that kind of establishment. Single malt, aged with care, and perfectly balanced. It was the kind of whiskey that sported a four-figure price tag.

    And it still wasn't close to the quality of the bottle I handed over at the end of the summit.

    "In fairness, I believe it was your gift to the Dewitt family that cemented your reputation in this area." He said, handing me the glass. I accepted it quickly and felt his relief from the strain of lifting a drinking glass.

    "I see." I said, swirling the liquor in the glass and enjoying its scent. "That was a gift, in appreciation for their services. I didn't expect it to be the genesis of any rumors, but I made it clear, it was theirs to do with as they pleased."

    "Quite the generous gift." Uppercrust said in an amused tone. "While I haven't overly pursued the matter, I understand they have been in contact with brokers and a somewhat clandestine auction house."

    I had to smile at that. "Well, I hope it proves profitable for them."

    "Little doubt there." Replied Uppercrust. He held his own glass rested on the arm of his chair. Given what I knew about his medical situation I understood why he was avoiding indulging. It seemed he was content to use it as a prop for the duration of the meeting.

    Fair enough. Say what you will about social lubricants, neither of us would have been keen to have our judgment impaired during the coming discussion. Of course, unless he had something considerably stronger than whiskey there was little risk of that on my front.

    "It was quite the significant gesture." He continued. "Along with your inclusion of them in the Empire's concessions, they have done quite well from your acquaintance." There was a gleam in his eye. "Something that could also be said of the city as a whole."

    I raised an eyebrow above the visor of my costume. "I think there would be some contention on that point." I said diplomatically.

    "An unfortunately honest appraisal." He said with a slight nod. "Contention yes, but such things are generally due to the plays of established powers threatened by any disruption."

    I felt a connection forming to the Personal Reality constellation and nodded, doing my best to conceal my reaction as I assessed the new power. It was a pair of small motes, once again only tangentially related. The first was called Office. Unsurprisingly, it gave me an office.

    I mean, I already had an office, but that was technically converted space from the apartment I had received with my Cyber-doctor power. This office was dedicated office space, with refilling supplies of basic items like notepads, paper clips, and pens. There was a unique effect of boosting my focus, reading speed, reading comprehension, and retention rate, but only when I was working alone in the office.

    It was also a repeatable item, granting progressively more offices, or possibly sets of cubicles, each time it was acquired. The benefits were middling, but it was one of the least expensive items I could receive without being tacked onto something else for free. In fact, it apparently needed to be balanced out by a second item to reach the level of even my weakest powers, the same way things like my micromanipulators had been.

    The second item was a Computer Hub. It provided a mainframe that was unquestionably top of the line by conventional standards, but severely lacking by any of my current metrics. It came with a full complement of supporting equipment, printers, scanners, and the like, but it was all miles below my current level of technology. For me, even a military grade supercomputer wasn't really of any consequence.

    Fortunately, this was more than just a computer. As a product of my power, it had the unique and fiat backed ability to PERFECTLY assimilate any upgrades done to it. Problems of compatibility, from minor issues of software integration to the introduction of completely new methods of computation, just didn't exist as far as the Computer Hub was concerned. It was the kind of effect that would have made the development of spiritron computing so much easier. Getting it now, after all the hard work had been done, was more than a little frustrating.

    Well, it wasn't like that work had been wasted. Through developing the system from first principles I had an understanding of technology from the ground up. The Computer Hub's ability to integrate upgrades could have bridged that gap, but it wouldn't have allowed the principles to be applied to other systems. The photonic processor upgrades for the Zoids or Fleet and Survey, or the next generation of Matrix's nanites wouldn't have been possible.

    Still, there was no reason not to take advantage of it now. The Computer Hub was also perfectly tied into my Extranet and through that power generated its own Intranet. The workshop network I had worked to develop was suddenly supplemented by a fiat backed system of communication.

    My duplicates acknowledged the power and let me know they would take care of integrating the current computer core into the Computer Hub. Normally that would have been a delicate and complicated process, but with the benefit of that power they could literally just mash them together. Seriously, it would be almost impossible to fuck up the work, even if they didn't have the insight gained from developing the technology from scratch.

    As a side note, the Computer Hub also provided everyone with their own personal desktop computer, laptop, and tablet. They didn't come with any fancy technology or powers, but they were upgradable and linked to my Extranet, meaning free uninterruptible internet access for all of them. It also fully outfitted the Office with its own computer system, which was probably the reason for the pairing of the powers.

    I suddenly realized I had let my eyes wander over the chessboard as I considered my latest power. Uppercrust tracked the direction of my gaze and did his best to suppress a wince.

    He had just mentioned 'plays' from the other powers in the city. And in response he had found me looking at the room's chess set. I noticed the board had been shifted slightly to make room for the decanter and furthermore turned to place the lines of pieces perpendicular to the seats. It was like a deliberate attempt to avoid metaphors.

    "Do you play? Chess?" In his tone I heard the closest thing to concern since I arrived.

    "No." I said quickly. "I know the rules, but never got into the game." Uppercrust practically sagged with relief. "I take it you are not a fan either?"

    "I can safely say that any love I may have once had for the game did not survive my years in this industry." He replied, and I could see a distant look in his eyes. "Certain things are expected of the leaders of cape organizations, particularly those that skirt the boundaries of the law on occasion." He let out a slow breath. "The number of petty masterminds who insist on conducting negotiations over a game, all while stretching chess metaphors to the breaking point…" He shook his head.

    That was not an element of cape life I anticipated. Probably because villain interaction had considerably less pomp in Brockton Bay. I couldn't imagine some new villain bringing out a board during a discussion with Lung or Skidmark. Kaiser I could see tolerating it, but only as a show. More likely than not it would end with someone or something getting impaled.

    "I take it you have plenty of experience with that game?" I asked.

    "Providing the metaphors progress no further, yes. I have experience with both chess and negotiations with parahuman organizations." As much was evident by his handling of things at Somer's Rock. "As for the game itself, I find defensive play to force a tie the most effective way of dealing with those who seek to extend the symbolism of boardgames beyond the point of good taste. And please note, that is not a commentary on my own approach as a cape or member of the Elite."

    I nodded and shifted my attention from the board. Uppercrust was clearly relieved at the prospect of getting away from the topic. While I wasn't keen on a game, the idea of extending chess metaphors to the current situation had some novelty appeal, but I imagine the shine came off after more than a decade of similar pronouncements.

    The fact that the board had been left in place suggested that Uppercrust would have been willing to entertain a match if I had pushed for it. I did admire the dedication and professionalism it took to put up with that kind of posturing.

    Apparently the tropes of cape work wore out more quickly than you would think. The fact that people's lives were being balanced on such tortured metaphors probably took the fun out of them. Dancing around terms like advantage, capture, and sacrifice sounded profound, but picturing Aisha, Garment, or Taylor in the roles of those pieces took the shine off rather quickly.

    "I think I can agree to a moratorium on chess references." I said with a slight grin.

    "That would be very much appreciated, I assure you." He replied, swirling the liquid in his glass slightly but not taking a drink. "You have built quite the reputation in a very short time. Particularly, the nature of that reputation in the city compared to the wider world is quite profound."

    "I understand the actions of my team are viewed more favorably outside the city." I said. "Unfortunately, local impressions remain something of a concern."

    "They always do." He said with a distant look in his eyes. "There has been much discussion about the nature of Brockton Bay, the strength of its capes and the brutality of its conditions." He shook his head. "Despite recent events, I am not one to apply a special classification to this city." The whiskey in his glass swirled again, churning up an aromatic scent. "I have seen the ebb and flow of powers my entire career. Brockton is hardly unique in the intensity of its conflicts or the strength of its capes." He briefly paused, glancing up at me. "With some exceptions, of course."

    I inclined my head, but didn't comment further.

    "Generally, the buildup hits a critical point well before the situation reaches this level. It isn't pretty, but to avoid the kind of open disaster and atrocities that have been endured over the past weeks." He took another breath and shook his head. Setting down his glass, he reached to the side and produced a folder of documents. "As promised, preliminary reports from my personal resources and connection regarding the location and activities of the ABB remnants."

    There was a hesitancy as the folder was handed over. Once again, it didn't show in his behavior and without the ability to sense his reactions I would have been completely blind to it, but there seemed to be a real fear that I would vanish the second I received the folder.

    Instead, I leaned back in my seat and began reviewing the documents. Between my cybernetic enhancements, the upgrade to my neural implant, and various powers that enhanced my mental abilities there was no issue with either speed reading or retaining the information.

    I connected with Survey and shared what I was reading. She seamlessly launched into her own analysis and cross-referencing without missing a beat in her own conversation.

    The files didn't contain anything as fortunate as a street address for Bakuda's new hideout. Instead of a silver bullet there was a trail of breadcrumbs, the product of connections and powers that Survey couldn't match. Some of the information overlapped with her own assessments, but the majority of it was fresh insights derived from direct investigation rather than public data sources.

    There was a thorough account of Uber and Leet's activities on the previous Thursday. In addition to striking at Lost Garden the pair had played traveling salesmen with a set of stops so precisely timed you could practically see March's fingerprints on the operation. Not every contact was accounted for, but there were enough to paint a picture.

    Most significant was a leaked report from the Toybox. Given the fact that confidentiality was a priority for that group I had to wonder what it cost Uppercrust to get the information, particularly considering how comprehensive it was. There was a precise account of what the pair had acquired, with a clear focus on Dodge's work.

    Pocket universes. I should probably be the last person to complain about that kind of thing, but I couldn't help but be annoyed. Of the potential methods of obstruction, it was just about the worst one possible. Dodge's pocket worlds were notoriously difficult to locate unless the precise entry point could be found. It was something I could work around with enough scanning drones or some judicious use of higher-level physics, but neither of those were exactly easy solutions.

    The array of other tech they had been confirmed to have acquired wouldn't make things any easier. Considering a functional Leet and desperate Bakuda were behind it, I had no doubt this would be some of the most difficult tech to overcome.

    There were some other investigation reports, but they were of secondary importance. An estimated timeframe for when the Butcher had been contacted by March could be useful, but it wasn't going to prove to be the critical piece of the puzzle. For that, Uppercrust had included information from his thinker contacts.

    The reports made one thing clear. Most thinkers were not the kind of masterminds I was used to dealing with in March, Coil, or Tattletale. It was nice to imagine that some magical power existed to direct me unerringly to my goal, but in general thinkers seemed to be vague or highly specialized. There were also caveats regarding potential disruption due to March, though most of her influence seemed to have evaporated after her death.

    I continued to review the reports as the Size constellation passed by. Even without the obstruction of March's power, the types of predictions available were of nebulous usefulness. One thinker evaluated potentials based on the impact they had on her specifically. Another had to assign characteristics to imbued tokens and observe how her power caused them to interact with each other. There was a thinker who could only confirm negatives, and only once on any issue. At least that was at least enough to confirm that Bakuda wasn't hiding in the blackout zone of the I-field. And sadly, that was the probably most directly useful of the original assessments.

    But those were just the initial assessments because it was clear that Uppercrust wasn't overstating things when he claimed to possess 'substantial contacts' within the cape community. The thinkers he had been able to immediately engage represented a fraction of his total resources. The information on the contacts he had and how readily he could call upon them seemed, at times, overly detailed and personal, but he had shared it freely. The list was organized from thinkers who could basically be called up for a quick request to those with significant commitments or limitations on the use of their power. Really, if I had any doubt of the seriousness of Uppercrust's position, the fact that he could apparently call in a favor from the Anthropomancer put them neatly to rest.

    As it stood, the information wasn't enough to immediately locate Bakuda or determine her next action, but it wasn't intended to be. Uppercrust hadn't held back any resources, but there was only so much that could be done within the time frame. The point was the clear implication of what he would be able to do. Uppercrust wouldn't have included information on his potential resources if he didn't intend to use them as a bargaining chip.

    But even if nothing more came from this, the contents of the folder were invaluable. Survey's analysis was already deconstructing the cryptic information the thinkers had been able to supply, generating a series of probability maps and potential future scenarios. The information on Uber and Leet's movements was enough for her to start extending her divine awareness in new directions, scanning systems that she wouldn't have even been aware of before. What we'd been given had provided a substantial advantage. What we could obtain could provide victory.

    "I am aware it does not as yet provide a definitive solution to the current situation, but I assure you, one will be forthcoming." Uppercrust said in a serious tone. "The ABB assembled an extraordinary force directed with a deft hand, but they are in a diminished state and stand against a united front." He continued. "Some issues can prove to be contentious, but there are few who would take a stand against this cause."

    "Thank you for taking the first steps on this matter." I said, closing the folder and setting it on the table between us. "I trust you would be open to discuss what more can be done?"

    He smiled slightly. "Of course, you are prepared to jump directly to the business exchange portion of our discussion." He made a small gesture to the folder. "Though I would not consider a cost for any of the provided information in any coming agreements. Please consider it a gesture of appreciation for agreeing to this meeting."

    "That's very generous." Or it would have been for most people. Survey was still tracking the web of connections, but it was clear that the initial reports had been assembled with readily available resources. I doubted there was much committed beyond Uppercrust's usual operating costs, but those efforts could have been directed towards any ends. Instead, he committed personal resources to help the city, and I was genuinely grateful for that.

    But not quite grateful enough to dismiss all my concerns. Uppercrust was an easy man to like. His cape persona was well known and heavily publicized. He stood as one of the most successful and longest operating tinkers in the world. He had even been an associate of Sphere back before the dreams of the moon colony had died a horrible death. The legal status of the Elite was nebulous, having no official categorization on the national level, but Uppercrust's branch operated publicly and to great success. They had civilian employees, owned real estate, and made consistent and significant charitable donations.

    But they were still a branch of the Elite. As varied as the individual cells could be, there was no denying the organization's presence as a national power. Resources and assets flowed between branches, reinforcing each other and coordinating on major actions. Capes who were close to a kill order in one city could disappear, only for a cape with identical powers and a new name and costume to pop up in a more subdued branch. Their approach to rogues who operated within their sphere of influence was infamous, even ones who offered no competition to the interests of the Elite. Finally, while crime under the Elite was more organized, that didn't necessarily make it better. Various members of the group had been implicated in just about everything imaginable, with plenty of cases that would turn even the most hardened man's stomach.

    I liked what Uppercrust did. I liked the moderation he imposed on both his own branch and the rest of the Elite, but I did not like what he represented. I understood it, knew how NEPEA-5 had impacted the ability of parahumans to operate legitimate businesses. I could trace the movement of founding members from the private sector to more morally gray areas, and then to what was unquestionably organized crime. In many areas things would be worse without the Elite, but that was cold comfort to those who had borne the organization's wrath.

    It was also what made this so complicated. I was dealing with a power balance on a national level. My instincts to do what seemed like the right thing at the time hadn't served me well with Panacea. On reflection, it was less the initial motivation and more the belief that I could sweep in with a good deed and a warning, then vanish into the night, absolved of responsibility.

    Whatever happened here, there would be responsibility on my part, and it wasn't something I could just set on course and walk away from.

    I reached to the belt of my costume and retrieved a tiny slip of metal. "Before we go any further, I trust you won't object to some additional security?"

    "Please, take whatever steps you deem necessary." He assured me without a hint of trepidation. I couldn't imagine a leader of the Elite being this comfortable with a powerful and nearly unknown cape in any other circumstance, but this was hardly a typical encounter.

    I set the slip on the coffee table and activated its mechashift function. The device smoothly unfolded into an improved version of the privacy field generator I had used at my last therapy session. Refinements had reduced its profile from the size of a clock radio to smaller than a cell phone. The white noise it generated was barely audible, but unlike most sounds on the edge of hearing, this had a calming quality rather than a grating nature.

    "Privacy field." I explained. "Sufficient to block surveillance technology and parahuman powers that would be able to observe us."

    There was the slightest reaction from Uppercrust at my mention of obstructing parahuman abilities and I understood the reason for it. A tinker was perfectly capable of scanning a particular parahuman ability, analyzing the effect, and designing some device that either incorporated or countered the power. A statement along the lines of 'blocks the majority of parahuman powers' or 'blocks parahuman powers based on a particular expression' would have been considerably more mundane. A blanket claim like the one I made was an exceptionally strong statement, one that was nearly unprecedented.

    He tilted his wrist slightly and observed a readout from his watch. A flicker of concern crossed his face, but he quickly schooled his expression.

    "Quite the effective isolation method." He said with calm that only came across as forced if you were able to read his emotional state.

    I nodded. "I'm cut off from my team as well, but the technology is particularly robust." I explained. It was enough to even block telepathy from my duplicates. Worth keeping in mind in case we needed a break from each other. "There's no physical barrier obstructing access, but we are safe from observation, parahuman or otherwise."

    "I assume some application of the expertise you declared at the summit?" Uppercrust asked before shaking his head and quickly doubling back. "Though this is not the time to be discussing such topics, of course."

    "Of course." I agreed. I could tell how eager he was to inquire about the technology behind the device. Unfortunately, this was based on my Simple Scientific Solution power, meaning even I had no idea how the hell it functioned. I knew the vague thrust of the obstruction effect, but that was mainly for assurance on what it was capable of, not the mechanics behind it. Something told me admitting to ignorance over the effect I just put in place wouldn't be the best idea.

    But having the field in place meant complete privacy, extending to precog and even retrocognition. The conversation was now completely secure, or as secure as possible. I was still sharing a room with someone that a good portion of the country would categorize as a crime lord, so I wasn't about to launch into full disclosure of my every secret.

    "I must say, I was quite impressed by how you handled matters at the summit." Uppercrust continued. "I have attended countless such events and all too often they balance on a razor's edge between the egos of conflicting capes. Even a clear power gulf between factions can fail to provide a regulating effect."

    "This city is my home and the home of my team. As I said, my objective was to allow it time to recover, nothing more." I stated clearly.

    "I believe I understand your objective." He said with a knowing look in his eye. "You came into that summit as a vast outlier in terms of strength and resources. It is a position I have some experience with, and I understand the trials of managing conflicting interests from that perspective."

    "You might be giving me too much credit." I said, downplaying things as much as I could manage.

    "Perhaps." He continued. "Though a key part of such a position is cultivating a sense of detachment from local concerns. You accomplished that admirably, even in the face of the Butcher." The mention of the Teeth caused the mood of the room to drop substantially. "And I should further state, your agreement to abstain from direct conflicts with the Butcher was an excellent step towards the stability and recovery you extolled."

    I shook my head slightly. "I'm not convinced of that." Looking up at Uppercrust I continued. "I do have countermeasures against the scenario everyone is so concerned about. Multiple countermeasures, for both the Butcher and the effects of her power."

    "I trust you do." He assured me. "But I'm sure you can understand why no one wished for such measures to be subject to the acid test with such a critical consequence for failure. I know what it is to have confidence in your own work, and can recognize your certainty in such matters." His eyes flickered down to the device on the table. "But the dynamics you find between capes are more complex and rarely assured by laboratory tests or ironclad theories."

    "Unfortunately." I agreed.

    "With the stance you have taken, every group in the city will be falling over themselves to subdue the Teeth before they can risk compromising your objective of stability. Such an outcome would be considered a decisive victory for anyone attending a cape summit, though I understand how you might see it as a less than ideal outcome." Uppercrust explained in a calm voice.

    I paused as I felt another connection form to the Personal Reality constellation. A pair of motes, slightly larger than the last ones, called Realistic Ground Cover and Dig It. In the spirit of Personal Reality items, they were fairly self-explanatory. Realistic Ground Cover converted the concrete floor of my loft and storage area into any kind of natural terrain I could want. It was completely customizable and even included support for things like paths and roads. I was certain Fleet was going to have a great time with that as soon as he got the chance, though he would probably be eager for another size increase for the chance to have more than eight kilometers of straightway to work with.

    Oh God, he was probably going to request a set of salt flats for land speed trials. I mean, it would be fairly simple to set up, but it was another point that reminded me how far the workshop had careened past ridiculous. I had a tinker workshop with five miles of salt flats inside it. Or would, as soon as my duplicates got around to building it for Fleet.

    Dig It, the second power, let me dig. To be less glib, it provided forty meters of foundation material to everything covered by realistic ground cover. It also gave any building from the Personal Reality a proper foundation, even though they were perfectly functional without one. Finally, the effect extended to the Underside, making any areas around the created basements completely diggable. It was even possible to find the odd curiosity when digging. Not buried treasure, but it was a replenishing supply of weird or cool items that could be excavated.

    Altogether, they were fairly minor improvements. Quality of life aspects of the Personal Reality more than any kind of strategic advantage. There seemed to be plenty similar items in that constellation, focused on comfort or lifestyle rather than decisive advantages. On the plus side, it did let me finish the review quickly and get back to the discussion at hand.

    It was clear Uppercrust was as opposed as anyone to the prospect of me taking the fight to the Butcher. Really, the risk of possession had been middling at the time of the summit and was nonexistent now, but the concern still pressed on everyone else in the city. I hadn't considered the idea of using their desire to avoid that outcome as a rallying point against the Teeth, but that was exactly what had happened. What's more, inter-gang conflict was far less likely while they remained focused on bringing down or driving off the Butcher before I could get dragged into a direct confrontation.

    It could almost come across as a major diplomatic victory, turning my opponents against a common enemy and uniting them in cause, if not in action. In truth, it was a consolation prize in exchange for not being able to address the problem directly. I just hadn't considered things in the context of the wider dynamic, rather than my own actions.

    Mostly because I hadn't considered the wider dynamic. I wasn't looking at the city with the idea that I would need to account for the Empire or the Merchants or Coil on an ongoing basis. I was considering my relationship with those groups in terms of weeks, months at the most extreme. Sure, the play I had made would have done wonders for my position in the dynamics of the city's underworld, but I wasn't looking to advance my position, I was getting ready to flip the board.

    Wow, it was really easy to fall into those chess metaphors. No wonder Uppercrust had burned out on them to such a degree.

    "I apologize if this is overly presumptuous, but I gained the sense that you were unfamiliar with directing action through such tactics." He posited. "It is common for capes with limited experience in such dynamics to overly focus on their own actions, rather than the indirect ways in which a situation can be influenced."

    "I am not overly keen on sharing details of my personal history." I stated firmly.

    "Of course, and I would not wish to pry." There was a slight smile as he spoke. "It is interesting, with the number of high-profile appearances and wealth of media attention you have received, how easily it is to overlook your desire for privacy."

    "If I am not mistaken, privacy is something of a key feature of cape life." I countered.

    "In theory, yes, but rarely in practice. People will conceal their abilities, of course, and certain details of their powers, but there is something inherently public about the costumed lifestyle." He settled back into his chair and my attention shifted to his own costume.

    The suit was cut in a modern design, but with the type of fabrics and embroidery characteristic of French court life in the seventeenth century. The gold thread was designed in such a way to glimmer in the light from the occasional flares of his personal force fields. His mask was of similar design, matching seamlessly with the rest of his costume.

    It was the image he had curated. Wealth, power, and highly detailed craftsmanship. It also served to conceal some of the aspects of his medical condition, while the embroidery contained both structural reinforcements and hidden technology in the form of microcircuitry based defensive systems. Likely a lesson in the importance of both image and substance.

    Technically, I didn't have an issue with either of those aspects. My costumes had been both functional and well-designed basically from the moment Garment arrived. Through media exposure I had acquired the public recognition Uppercrust spoke of, but it wasn't something I had sought out. He was correct in the fact that I very much did not want the attention I had amassed, though my public displays and the reach of powers like A Thing About Names undercut that impression.

    "I think that, considering the situation that has unfolded in the city, that compromises are to be expected." I replied. "I understand the PRT is or has been under the impression that I precisely planned every aspect of my debut, including somehow managing both their actions and the actions of my enemies. At the very least, I can assure you this is blatantly untrue."

    "Ah, yes. Director Piggot's vaunted theory of city-wide coordination. Perhaps not completely unfounded, but badly misdirected." His tone turned serious. "Following March's display during the Ungodly Hour there is little doubt as to the source of said influence. Early attempts to lay it at your feet were just one more dish in the feast of crow local authorities have been working through in the aftermath of the attack."

    I gave a slight nod, memories of that fight flashing back to me. Careful actions working to pick apart the web of coordination March had put in place. The final thrust towards the container yard, working against an entrenched and defended position. Being blindsided by the unforeseen synergy between March and Oni Lee, then the period of blind rage fueled by Tetra's pain and confusion, regarding nothing but the largest and most readily available targets.

    It was both my greatest showing and decidedly not my finest hour. Given the attention it had garnered, I could only imagine what the public would think if they found out I considered it a failure. Looking at things in retrospect it was easy to miss every point where things could have gone wrong, or every overlooked opportunity where the situation could have been more effectively resolved. In most people's minds, a victory was a victory. It didn't matter how you got there.

    I looked across the table at Uppercrust. "You seem to have some theories about my motives, at least enough to dismiss the theories of the local PRT."

    "I am hardly unique in dismissing those theories. It is actually quite impressive how the impression of your actions diverges so sharply between the local and national level." He said with a smile. "I would not wish to make declarations about your life or the secrets you so strongly defend. I'm not some thinker seeking validation of their own intelligence or the validity of their powers. Everyone entertains their own impressions and private theories of others, but it is the height of poor taste to expound upon such insights as if merely holding them was some profound accomplishment."

    I considered Tattletale and the smugness that constantly sat just below the surface of every interaction with her. I doubted that was a unique outlook among villain thinkers and I considered how many times Uppercrust had faced down capes announcing his favorite color or what he had for breakfast as a way to show off their own power.

    Or announcing details about his medical state. With that context, I could understand why he was keen on respecting privacy.

    "Well, I'm pleased we can have this conversation without it devolving into concerns over master effects or mass manipulation schemes." I replied.

    He nodded. "The PRT and Protectorate can be inflexible at times. Some directors are able to work around the limitations of national policy, but I would hardly be the first to criticize Director Piggot's handling of things. No, I do not have any need to dress up a new cape as an overpowered scapegoat."

    It was a brutal assessment of Director Piggot's handling of the situation, but one that was more common online than in official publications and news reports. Even with how the press usually softballed their coverage of PRT leadership, it was something of an outlier. A discussion point on a few panels and the topic of some opinion pieces, but no public condemnation. I could only guess they were waiting for the situation to fully resolve before deciding whether she would be thrown to the wolves or if the situation could be salvaged.

    Really, I wasn't sure how I felt about it. Her early directives had caused no end of problems for me. They were understandable to some extent, but between my passenger's hints about her physical and mental state and what Survey had been able to dig up, I doubted her actions were completely impartial. The thing was, every indication I had suggested her removal would only lead to a worse situation for the city. Honestly, I couldn't see how things could devolve to that point, so I was hoping that was one of the more outdated predictions, but it was still something to keep in mind.

    "So, considering you are willing to meet with me, you must have some alternate impression. I would be interested to hear your feelings about how I handled the situation." I prompted, leaning back in my chair. It was fairly clear that his willingness to meet was coming from a place of some desperation, but that wasn't the whole story. A polite attitude and pleasant conversation were well and good, but I needed to know what I was dealing with here.

    Also, Mental Fortress's ability to see through outside manipulation meant even against a cape as experienced as Uppercrust I was standing on solid footing. It wasn't a lie detector, but it should help me cut through any bullshit and get a sense of his intentions.

    Uppercrust took a breath before responding. There was an element of showmanship to it, but it was more to address the health issues he was powering through than for any impact it would have on me. Steadying himself, he leaned forward and began to speak.

    "You have been quite the anomaly." He said with a contemplative look in his eyes. "Speaking from experience, I can say the world had never seen a debut and rise on a scale like this. We exist in a world where we must contend with unfathomable powers. Any moment, any trigger event can bring forth an expression or ability that will tilt the balance of nations. I remember the appearance of Sleeper. The construction of the Blasphemies. The court of the Fairy Queen. Cities lost to Endbringers or to powers that could not be contained."

    He paused and recentered on me. "I do not mean to draw any equivalencies to characters of such repute, but for the majority of the history of parahumans, the appearance of a major power has consistently been a point of concern, not celebration. Capes who did not prove to be disasters in themselves have served as the foundation for entire regimes. The general reaction you have endured has been understandable, if not entirely reasonable."

    "And you have a more reasonable opinion?" I asked.

    Uppercrust smiled at me. "The mere fact that we are able to have a conversation of this nature is a point against unreasonable concerns. The types of capes who serve as the genesis of such worries are not partial to discussion and mediation. They do not reach out to the authorities to provide assurances of their plans or advocate for peace or recovery at villain summits."

    "You have a quite favorable impression of my actions." I said.

    "And one that is well deserved." He replied. "I am not one for flattery, not in matters of business, but I can recognize patterns. The benefit of experience." His eyes darkened. "Or perhaps the benefit of understanding how such a situation could be exploited, and quite notably was not. Opportunities for acquiring power ignored, insults left unchallenged, and a greater moderation of force that anyone could reasonably expect."

    "I doubt most people would refer to any aspect of Thursday's conflict as 'moderate'." Uppercrust let out a brief laugh in response.

    "Most people are fortunate to have limited experience with the scale of parahuman conflict." There was a hint of indignance to his voice as he spoke. "That scale is understandably something of a specialty of mine. Shield systems are not deployed solely against Endbringers and weather systems. I, perhaps more than anyone, am aware of exactly how close this city came to disaster, either from the efforts of the ABB or from less prudent use of your own technology."

    As the Time constellation passed by I noted that Uppercrust's words didn't come across as an accusation. If anything, there was a hint of admiration to his words. Power wielded with care and precision, things any tinker would understand the importance of.

    "I am not going to theorize on the nature of your powers, what elements have allowed the growth you displayed, or the origin of your companions. I do believe you have acted in response to a monstrous threat and unjust treatment with moderation and concern for the wellbeing of others." An exceptionally genuine smile crept onto his face. "Even with the wealth of impossibilities demonstrated over the past week, that, to me, stands out as the most exceptional quality."

    Uppercrust leaned back with a satisfied expression on his face. I could tell he was sincere in his stance. There was some manipulation, but only the amount that you get in any back and forth. Mental Fortress would have informed me if he was setting up a false impression of himself to secure favor. No, this was genuine. An explanation of his reasoning for coming to me and believing we could reach an agreement.

    And he was right. That was the funny thing about the situation. Uppercrust, a man embroiled in the power dynamics of the second largest cape organization in the country, who had been facing down heroes and villains for his entire career, who dealt with political schemes and criminal conspiracies on a daily basis, was willing to take me at face value.

    Ironically, it was probably because of the depth of that experience that he could see through the current situation. The man had personally lived through every conspiracy that was being attributed to me and my motivations. Hell, based on what I'd seen from Survey's assessment, he had coordinated some of them himself. He had seen the situations everyone was worried about in person and knew the signs to look for. And he wasn't seeing them.

    I knew he wanted healing, needed healing. Even with someone as adamant as Uppercrust that kind of desperation would color his judgment, but it wouldn't blind him to the situation. If he was concerned by what he saw, genuinely concerned, then he would have taken a different approach. A more cautious approach, with additional safeguards and incentives. That wasn't what he was doing. He trusted his view of the situation, and mercifully he was right.

    But that didn't completely resolve things. It was a relief to not be dealing with someone who saw me as a new String Theory waiting to happen, but that just meant it was easier to come to an arrangement. We still had to arrive at one.

    I let out a breath and nodded my head. "In confidence, my early attempts to assure people of my intentions tended to go…. poorly." I saw a look of understanding in Uppercrust's eyes. "Following my more public actions… well, as you said, there is value in a sense of detachment."

    "Given the circumstances, I wouldn't be critical of the actions you elected to take. However, a line of communication and public stance could have mitigated a number of your early problems." There was a twinkle in his eye. "Both of which I am quite adept at providing."

    I gave him a mildly amused look. "I hope this isn't a recruitment pitch for the Elite."

    Uppercrust let out a deep belly laugh, which died quickly as he concealed the strain it placed on his body. "No, good Lord no. While that would certainly be the coup of a lifetime, that is exactly the reason it should be avoided." He shook his head. "The Celestial Forge should stand alone. Power blocs are adjusting themselves to your presence and preparing for what actions you might take, what agendas you will pursue." He looked directly at me. "Your agendas, and those of your team, not the objectives of a third party backed by the power of Apeiron."

    I nodded at his reasoning, but couldn't help but find myself a little surprised. "I have to admit, I would have expected at least a token offer."

    He firmly shook his head. "I wouldn't deem to insult you as such. Some capes will seek power wherever they can find it and in whatever form they can secure." His eyes softened slightly as he continued. "I have not lacked in wealth, resources, or position, but I am well aware of the limits of such things. I could triple my personal holdings, acquire unquestioning control of the Elite, and secure influence enough to dictate public policy and be no closer to my true goal."

    It was as close to the topic as he had broached since we had sat down and it seemed that it fell to me to officially raise it.

    "Because you are dying." I said in a quiet voice.

    There was barely any reaction from Uppercrust. Even what I could pick up through my senses was subdued. In fact, the 'subdued' was pretty much the nature of the response. It didn't rile him up. There was no provocation of anger, fear, or sadness. Just a kind of grim acknowledgement. Not acceptance, but an understanding of the scale of the situation.

    "I have been dying my whole life." He replied. A moment of humor flickered across his face. "I suppose we all are, though I have had the benefit of being acutely aware of my mortality from a young age." The levity quickly died and he returned to an impassive expression. "I will not bore you with the lamentations of my conditions, but yes. While I have avoided public confirmation of my condition for obvious reasons, I am dying. I will die."

    "And you want me to heal you." I continued.

    A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. "That should go without saying, but as I have long since abandoned pride and pretense in regards to medical matters, I will happily say it. Yes, I very much want what treatment you would be able to provide."

    I considered the openness of his declaration for a moment, drawing things out by taking a sip of whiskey. The first drink I'd had since it was poured. The fact that there were no toasts or similar acts spoke to the tone of the conversation. The drinks were props intended to move things along. Very delicious props, but props all the same.

    Uppercrust watched me take my sip. I gave him an approving nod, then set down my glass. "Even with everything you've said, I am a little surprised you are comfortable asking for that." I said.

    "There is very little 'comfortable' about my condition. Though I am curious if you are referring to the act of asking itself, or the service being requested? Or perhaps both."

    I gave him a nebulose gesture. Either would do.

    "Both then." He began. "I do not consider my situation unique. My position and resources, certainly, but I am far from the only desperate medical case in the world. With my condition, I have become acquainted with many of them, and am also well aware of the usual final result for those with such a diagnosis."

    I could see the weight of experience pressing on him as he continued. "The stages of grief are a rather eloquent way of categorizing response to dire circumstances, though I can attest that it is a rather simplified view of things. People do not neatly progress from denial to anger, bargaining, depression and then acceptance. Often, true acceptance never comes, and people will move between 'stages' almost erratically."

    He glanced up, possibly to check my tolerance for this particular tangent. I nodded and he pressed on.

    "I, of course, include myself in this, and I believe these reactions can be healthy outlets." His face turned stern. "With the exception of denial. I have never deluded myself as to the scale of the challenge I would have to contend with. That scale is vital in matters where the weight of one's options are considered. I understand my situation. A challenging meeting in a troubled city is a small price for the chance to resolve it."

    "And you are confident that I will be able to?" I asked. It was more feeling things out before we got down to tacks. The serious exchange that would have to be worked out. I was making no assurances, but also offering no denials, and I'm sure Uppercrust picked up on that.

    "As I said, I am familiar with a wide variety of dire medical cases." He paused and glanced towards the window, taking in the midday sun dancing across the gleaming towers of Brockton Bay's Downtown district. "We live in an age of wonders. Of horrors as well, but that doesn't detract from the miracles that have become commonplace." He turned back to me. "A man throws fire from his hands and most people see him as a low ranked blaster, notable for his costume and promotional tie-ins. They don't consider the violations of thermodynamics, or the production of flammable chemicals out of nowhere, or the control mechanism for an effect that defies analysis."

    I nodded and gestured for him to continue. I was well aware of how bullshit parahuman abilities could be, even when only looking at simple expressions.

    "Your treatment of the Undersiders. The removal of Bakuda's implanted explosive devices. The meeting you held with Weld on the floor of the bay."

    I raised an eyebrow, but didn't otherwise react. It wasn't surprising that Uppercrust had learned that particular detail. Depending on his relationship with the local PRT it might even have been an official brief. If not, well, the Brockton PRT had leaked like a sieve in terms of information control and really only put corrective measures in place in time for it to be personally inconvenient for me.

    "The public tends to take a simplified view of parahuman abilities. To be fair, most parahumans have a simplified view of their own abilities. Limits and restrictions that prevent more creative applications." Uppercrust continued.

    "Manton limits." I commented.

    "Just so." He agreed. "They are something one learns to look out for. The restrictions on a cape provide the roadmap for how one should interact with them."

    I had the sense that in Uppercrust's experience, most such interactions were fairly violent affairs. It was a basic and frustrating aspect of cape conflicts. Learning what you were up against before you ran head first into something you couldn't counter.

    A lesson I had personally learned in a particularly brutal fashion.

    "You impressed a great many people with your demonstrations. And a great many more following Weld's retrieval. Few of them understand the full true implications of what was being done. The precision and versatility required to even attempt such treatment, much less accomplish it with no complications." He leaned forward. "I do understand, and that is why I believe you can help me."

    I let his statements sink in for a moment. This was the moment of truth. No more dancing around the issue. Time to take the plunge.

    "Assuming I am able to treat your condition." I said. "What would you be prepared to offer in exchange?"

    A bright smile spread across Uppercrust's face. I could feel tension leave his body in waves. He took a deep breath, then leaned back, spreading his arms wide as he said a single word.

    "Everything."

    I blinked. I blinked again and looked at the smiling, emaciated man across from me. "Excuse me?" I asked.

    "Everything." He repeated. "Everything I can offer. My financial resources, my political influence, the strength of my position within the Elite, the technology at my disposal, my personal connections within and outside the cape community, and even my skills as a tinker. That is what I am prepared to offer. Everything I have."

    I sank back in my chair as the Forge missed a connection to the Magitech constellation. Everything. Not 'anything'. Not 'name your price' or 'whatever you want'. Flat out everything he had to offer.

    "Just, 'everything'?" I asked. "What kind of an offer is that?"

    "One that is unlikely to be rejected." He said with a sly smile.

    I took a breath and let it out slowly. "I know we discussed my actions during the events that unfolded over the past week. I feel like I should inform you, the mercenary elements of my character may have been moderately exaggerated."

    Uppercrust didn't look the least bit surprised.

    "Furthermore, while I have demanded payment or exchanges for previous contracts, and I am not willing to share the precise details of those arrangements, I can assure you, the costs fall short of the full resources of a leader of the Elite." I continued.

    "Amusingly, this may be the first time I have had someone make a sincere attempt to get me to dramatically reduce my opening offer." Uppercrust said with a sly grin.

    I raised a hand. "I'm not dismissing the possibility of an arrangement, but I wanted you to at least know the scale of my previous arrangements, as a metric for this expense." I paused, noting his reaction. One of the few reactions that was not moderated by his careful control. "Did I say something amusing?"

    I really didn't get the sense he had been anything but sincere with his opening offer, but clearly there was something about the situation he found quite entertaining.

    "Expense." He repeated. "To assure you, I am aware of the nature of your agreement with Weld, as well as the 'exchange' carried out while healing the poor souls subjected to Bakuda's surgical bombs. While I cannot claim any insight into your arrangement with the Undersiders, my sources have compiled a full assessment of their criminal activities and the estimated proceeds from them. Even for a relationship not 'based on finances', there is a limit to what the exchange could involve." He said, echoing my own words from my first confrontation with Bakuda.

    "So, you know that an offer like this is…" I couldn't think of any way to describe it other than 'monstrously excessive'.

    "I have always held a distinction between price and value." He paused. "Perhaps a consequence of the scale of contract I am used to working with."

    I nodded. The price for civic shields started in the low nine digits and could scale up quickly. Maintenance and rebuilds were less expensive, but still a titanic cost for any city.

    "Value is always a personal quality. It is something we assign to things. What we cherish and choose to devote ourselves to." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I trust you are familiar with the phrase 'you can't put a price on your health'?" I inclined my head. "Somewhat incorrect. You can't put a fixed value on your health. Meanwhile, there are several industries devoted to pricing health down to the penny."

    "I understand your medical costs must have been significant." I said diplomatically. If anything, the statement just seemed to amuse him even more.

    "I believe that once you have spent the amount of money that I have, they stop being considered 'costs'. Investments might be a better term, but that implies some form of return. Perhaps it would be more accurate to refer to them as endowments." He shook his head. "I am the primary source of funding for research towards my specific medical condition. The Mayo Clinic has a wing personally financed by me. Five universities have tenured research positions funded by my grants, and seventeen drug trials have been conducted due to my support." He paused, a bit of the levity draining from his face. "Three were successful, with one tangentially applicable to my specific condition."

    "I'm sorry…" I began, but Uppercrust brushed me aside.

    "My point is, at this stage of my life, there is nothing else I am devoting my resources to." He leaned forward, his forcefields shimmering as he moved. "You asked what I would offer to address my condition? I offer exactly what I am currently devoting to it. Everything I have and everything I can do."

    Something was finally sinking in. "You're serious about this?"

    A smile flashed on Uppercrust's face. "Not once have you asked about the nature of my condition. It's possible you already know, Survey appears to be an extraordinary talent, or it is possible that it doesn't matter." He said. "You've offered none of the qualifiers and warnings that Weld received. No tempered expectations or concerns over the challenge of the task. Almost as if you are confident you can provide a solution regardless of what challenge you will face."

    I didn't bother denying it and his smile gained the slightest hint of smugness.

    "Barring highly exceptional circumstances, such as the involvement of a parahuman ability, experimental tinker technology, or an issue related to your trigger, treatment should not be a problem." I explained. Uppercrust maintained a controlled expression, but I could feel his excitement grow with my confirmation.

    "So the question remains, will you accept my offer?" He asked.

    I raised a hand. "Honestly, I am not completely clear on what you are offering. This… this is considerably more complicated than a material transfer or exchange of favors. How exactly do you see this working?"

    He gave me a slight nod. "In the most basic terms, I put my resources at your disposal. While I would be willing to transfer more material assets and connections, I have the feeling you would prefer to avoid direct action in such matters." His eyes glimmered as he continued. "In fact, my services as an intermediary are a core component of the offer. I understand the difficulty you have when operating overtly or pursuing legitimate avenues of business. I have ample connections and experience with such things and could easily facilitate matters."

    "That would be most helpful, but I have to ask, what happens in the event of a conflict of interest?" I pressed. "My objectives are unlikely to consistently align with those of the Elite. Are you prepared to go against the rest of your organization? Cause a fracture with other leaders? Or see your own branch diminished?"

    "If need be." He stated simply. "I'm sure you are aware of the implications of my condition with respect to the direction of the Elite. I am afraid to say, my influence is not what it used to be. With my current trajectory, the situation you posit is an inevitability. My branch will diminish as I am unable to maintain my commitments. Fractures will form with other leaders and there will be groups that go against the direction of the organization. But even without taking that into account, I would rather start again from nothing than wither away slowly, bartering for scant moments of functionality as my life's work crumbles."

    The gravity of the situation was clear, but I couldn't help but feel like I was taking advantage of a desperate man.

    "As an assurance, I would not make this offer if I believed I was inviting a worse fate than what awaits me and my organization should I succumb." He clarified. "While it might be presumptuous to make such assumptions at this point, based on your conduct, I do not believe you would make decisions that would lead to ruin. I place myself at your disposal, and trust the wisdom of doing so."

    I flopped back into my seat. It was insane. I mean, a lot of my life was insane, but this was another level. Honestly, it was hard to take the offer seriously. If not for the absolute insanity of trying to welch on a contract with Apeiron I would have trouble believing he would follow through. Uppercrust was leveraging my reputation for holding to deals, and offering the most unbalanced deal imaginable.

    Except it wasn't truly unbalanced. Sure, I was effectively offering Uppercrust his life back. Not just his health, or a chance to avoid further deterioration, but restoration to a state of health he may never have truly experienced. In exchange he was offering his resources and services as an asset of the Celestial Forge.

    Offered to any other cape, it would have been pure insanity. An opportunity to raid the organization for money, resources, technology, and capes, then discard what was left. The thing was, I didn't need any of those things. Okay, some legitimate money might be nice, but the only resources Uppercrust had that I truly needed were the ones that came from having a functional organization. He could make this deal and be sure he would come out intact because the Celestial Forge was more powerful than the Elite.

    It was a gamble, and he knew that. There was too little information on me or my team to be certain of any of this, but I was willing to bet that Uppercrust had good instincts for this kind of thing. Looking at how we conducted ourselves, what our objectives were, even the concessions we demanded, he could be reasonably certain of the outcome. That I would keep his branch intact to be able to make use of it.

    And that's where the real play was. The long shot that could pay off tremendously. It was something Uppercrust wasn't raising, because he didn't have to. It had already been implied in every other contract I had made, and then carried out beyond the bounds of reason. By all appearances, I had entered a kill theater for the sake of a weapon deal, launched a gang war on the ABB for an undisclosed individual, and offered revolutionary treatment to a Case 53 for what amounted to a souvenir.

    If I had a contract to make use of Uppercrust's branch of the Elite, I would have a vested interest in making sure that branch stayed around. In fact, if I had a deal to make use of Uppercrust's skills and connections it would be in my interest to ensure he stayed around as well. A payment of favor could have ended our connection. Putting his more abstract resources at my disposal created the kind of entanglement that had been highly profitable for anyone who had been able to secure it.

    Without Mental Fortress the possibility that I was being set up or entrapped would have been maddening, paralyzing. Even with a full investigation I don't know if I'd have been able to trust the motivations behind the offer. With the benefit of that Revival power, I could be sure. I knew the offer was sincere. My other sensory powers indicated as much, but I had confirmation.

    Uppercrust was aware of the advantages of this kind of deal, but also aware of the costs. He knew how this could go wrong, but was willing to accept that. After a lifetime of chronic health issues, persistent pain, and constant deterioration he had found the best odds of his life and was ready to bet the house on it.

    But even so, things weren't completely cut and dry. It was tempting to look at Uppercrust's branch in isolation, but I needed to consider the Elite as a whole. Strengthening Uppercrust's influence would do a lot of good, but I couldn't ignore the severity of their actions. There were horrible people within that organization, and they weren't entirely limited to the branches run by Blueblood or Bastard Son.

    As I considered the situation I felt the Quality constellation draw close. This wasn't like the previous connections, where tiny motes had broken off from the Personal Reality constellation. This was a big one, a major power descending on me with no regard to the situation at hand. I braced as a mote like a blazing sun enveloped my senses.

    Darkness. Darkness before darkness as a concept existed. I moved, devoid of eyes. Without limbs or mind, I moved. I lived, I ate, and I grew.

    And I understood.

    I understood, but it was understanding without reason. Reason came later. In the beginning there was only survival. Movement through the warmth of what might have been flesh but was also the dawn of all things. Born of blood and bone, born from violence that birthed creation, I moved, I ate, and I grew. The world around me was both dying and coming to be. A transition, primal to material. The dawn of all things.

    With time the world grew cold. The creation ceased, stabilized. Primordial energies given form and nature, converted into a fixed existence. I left the dead primal matter, and reason came. A gift from those who had killed the world to birth the world.

    The Aesir stood mighty and victorious, but they did not understand. For all their power and wisdom, they did not have the knowledge of those born of blood and bone. Those who grew in the dying and birthing world. They did not know the secrets of the Svartálfar, but I did.

    I had tasted the flesh of Ymir and knew the origin of all things.

    Ymir, the first giant. Born from fire and ice, primal forces for a primal being. Slain by the Aesir, his flesh became the earth, his blood the seas, his bones mountains and his skull the sky. But before that came the Svartálfar. Born of blood and bone of his cooling corpse, they existed in a diminished state during the birth of the world. But the knowledge, the understanding, that remained.

    Even as the Aesir named them dwarves, set them to carry the sky or craft their wonders, they did not understand the nature of things. They called dwarves great smiths, but only because they could not understand. Could not feel the potential in base materials, the link to the primal state and the power of creation that permeated all existence. How could they? They had never been part of it.

    I blinked as the wave of knowledge and experiences from the power finally washed over me. Memories that had been dredged up lingered in my mind. The taste of the primal matter of existence, vile and phenomenal all at once, because it was everything, all at once.

    The power was called Craftsmen of the Gods. Basically, it was the power to be a Norse dwarf. That was a massive oversimplification, but I couldn't overlook the connection. Couldn't overlook all the connections, not any more. Links from every base material to that primal chaos at the dawn of creation.

    Except since this was Norse myth that primal chaos existed as a disgusting giant and the dwarves or 'Svartálfar' began as the maggots of his corpse. Yeah, I could really have done without the vividness of that experience, even if it was what allowed the power to have meaning.

    I remember reading about the origin of legends of magic swords. I mean, the origin in worlds where magic actually didn't exist. It came down to thunderbolt iron. Iron meteors that could be worked into blades. In a bronze age society, an iron sword was magic. No one understood the principles behind why the one sword was shaper, harder, and universally more effective than anything they could create, it just was. It was magic.

    That was a lot like what it was like for the Svartálfar in Norse mythology. Everyone came to them for the works they could create, and nobody understood how they functioned. They must be magic, or the product of the dwarf's genius. How else could a gold ring copy itself or a spear never miss its target?

    Looking at things with my perspective, I could see exactly how. I understood the connection between the base materials of the world and the primal chaos that had birthed them, because it had birthed me as well. Birthed and sustained me. It was a secret that you couldn't explain. It had to be experienced, and it could never be experienced again.

    In a way, this didn't even feel like a power. It was a secret, a trick, but not really a skill. The adoration the Aesir held for those works was almost embarrassing. It was like they were trying to master the crafting system of a video game while the Dwarves just edited the data values of their items. Set hit percentage to one hundred, change damage type to lightning, or every nine days repeating edit item quantity to equal nine.

    That wasn't literally what was happening, but when you were able to work with the primal essence of material to control their expression, it might as well be. Every act of crafting revisited the dawn of creation and shaped the world into new forms, only for Svartálfar that wasn't metaphor, it was a literal description of what they were doing. Primal cosmic energy bringing forth properties far beyond what should be possible. Anything I made using base components, raw materials granting a connection to the original form of the world, would have power beyond belief.

    That wasn't an exaggeration by any means. Even at the most basic level I could create items on the level of the personal regalia of the Aesir. For instance, a spear that would never miss, not because of any feat or skill or property of the design, but because that aspect was written into the fabric of the universe from the point of its creation. As intrinsic a feature as any other natural law. Alternatively, a belt that multiplied strength several times over. Several times, regardless of your starting point.

    And those were trivial, the equivalent of entry level projects. The way to feel out the power was through a perfect recreation of Gungnir and Megingjörð. The spear of Odin and the belt of Thor were basically paint by numbers projects as far as this power was concerned. There was a damn good reason it was called Craftsmen of the Gods.

    I also received a basic farming implement of no extraordinary craftsmanship and a design dating to the Viking age. But, hey, it was a free hoe.

    Okay, not like that.

    This ability marked the third time I had received a major crafting power connected to items of myth. Master Craftsman, Daedalus' Student, and now Craftsmen of the Gods. The creation of divine objects. The introduction of aspects beyond what could be achieved within the limits item's physical design. And now the addition of properties woven into the very fabric of creation.

    All major powers and all applicable to everything I created. In fact, I had to go out of my way if I wanted to avoid them. Master Craftsman triggered whenever something was made by hand. A direct extension of my training under the fey, bringing aspects of craftsmanship I still couldn't fathom on a conscious level.

    Craftsman of the Gods applied to anything that used base materials. Metal, wood, stone, or water. Really, anything that could be traced to Ymir. Even materials with single levels of processing like glass, paper, or steel could be used.

    With Daedalus' Student I could contain the effect, but that took focus. Running the intention of the creation in parallel with the crafting process and ensuring that it lined up with what was actually created, not anything more.

    But that was only if I actually wanted to avoid the effects. Survey's mirror had shown how powerful Master Craftsman and Daedalus' Student could be when combined and focused. Now I had a third source of divine construction. A way to create the weapons of the Gods. An art that was already titanically powerful and that would only grow stronger.

    Even with no technology, no magic, no advanced materials or exotic facilities, everything I made would be mythical. With the combination of aspects that I could apply to even my most minor works a question presented itself.

    What was I worried about?

    In healing Uppercrust I would be entangling myself with the Elite. Even within Uppercrust's portion of the organization there would be monstrous individuals. People I would never want to be associated with.

    So, I wouldn't be. Uppercrust offered his services, all the resources at his disposal, to be directed as I wished. If I wished to remove the more contemptible of his associates, did I anticipate any problem with that? Was there any difficulty likely to result from that kind of request that I couldn't address with the workmanship of three mythologies at my fingertips, and several more in reserve?

    Uppercrust had made this offer because he knew I would not turn it down. It was too much of an advantage, addressed too many concerns that I had been wrestling with my entire career. No, I would go through with this, and whatever minor issues would arise, I would address. Because problems like that were well within my abilities. I was the craftsman of the gods. It was time to start acting like it.

    Uppercrust was watching me with clear concern in his eyes. I remembered the summit, the convenient timing of the arrival of my powers, allowing me to play them off as related to developing events. The arrival of the Teeth or the Butcher's connections. I also remembered how the room had frozen whenever it happened. No one outside the Forge, save maybe Tattletale, understood what was happening in those moments, but everyone was concerned.

    I smiled and some of Uppercrust's concern dropped away. Reaching for my glass, I downed the last of the liquor, then rose from my seat. Uppercrust watched me for a moment, then slowly extricated himself from his own chair.

    "Have you come to a decision?" He asked cautiously while concealing the exhaustion from the burst of activity.

    "I have. A generous offer, and as you said, one unlikely to be rejected." I extended a hand towards him and he quickly accepted. "Congratulations, you have a contract with the Celestial Forge."

    The wave of relief that crashed forth would likely have taken the man off his feet if not for the reinforcement of the force fields cladding his body. Instead, he enthusiastically shook my hand while sporting a smile like a sunrise.

    "Thank you." He said as the Forge missed a connection to the Time constellation. I could tell he was attempting to keep the emotion from his voice. "Forgive my forwardness, but when will we-"

    "Now." I said, and squeezed his hand.

    The micromanipulators cladding my hands could specifically bypass shielding abilities. The layered defensive fields that Uppercrust maintained were an impressive piece of technology, but one that was meaningless against an item granted directly by the Forge. Sub-micron bursts of movement punched through protective barriers, allowing me to grasp the man's skeletal hand. Then, with a surge of will, my nanites flowed forth, spreading lines of blue circuitry across Uppercrust's body.

    Addendum Uppercrust

    Uppercrust's defensive barriers had been breached, bypassed with contemptuous ease. Not broken or overwhelmed, simply ignored. His mind reeled as the mechanics of the simple act played out in his head. Tiny movements with near immeasurable force applied on a scale of time and distance that could only be mechanically assisted.

    The framework on Apeiron's arms, only visible thanks to the damage sustained against Uber and later March. A suspected coordination system, but clearly much more precise than that. Movement with precision and power, invaluable for assembly and repair work, as had been theorized, and an undoubtable asset in combat, but the effect on protective force fields was one he had never considered.

    Rather embarrassing, really, considering his specialization.

    The panic that would always accompany a personal field breach nearly blinded him to what was happening. Blue lines in the style of a printed circuit board were spreading across his body, floating on top of his costume while the effect extended much further. The characteristic sound of an electric motor could be heard, but his mind was focused elsewhere. It didn't matter what he saw or heard, not compared to what he felt.

    It didn't hurt. That alone was a marvel beyond words. Pain management was something of an art for him, often with the help of carefully balanced chemical assistance. Now the pain was gone. He could feel things shift and move; the effect of the technology he had theorized about, now experienced firsthand. There was no discomfort, not even a numbing sensation or feeling of detachment as he had theorized. The effect was mesmerizing, but one thing was clear.

    He was being fixed.

    The four words carried the weight of the universe behind them. A lifetime of shattered hopes, failed initiatives, dry wells, and bad gambles came flooding back to him. Every project, scheme, and desperate ploy meant to buy just a little more time, to secure the barest shred of functionality, to hold back the inevitable.

    This was beyond all of that, beyond everything he had tried, every petty victory and delaying action. He took a breath, a deep breath, free and clear. No trembling of muscles, no unsteadiness of nerves. The process was continuing, rebuilding his body past the point of his most lofty hopes, to a level that seemingly only Apeiron could achieve.

    There were still those who thought this to be beyond foolhardy. Apeiron was too new, too unproven. Despite the man's confidence, there was no verification. No confirmation that his healing was safe or stable in the long term. But medical tests found no warning signs, monitoring saw no deterioration, and every thinker consulted could find no points of concern. What's more, the man had used it on himself, and used it extensively. Of all the criticisms that could be leveled against Apeiron, no one could accuse him of being ignorant of his own technology.

    Uppercrust felt the man's ironclad grip loosen. He watched as the blue lines retracted from his body, then faded from Apeiron's glove. The grip was released, exiting through his fields as easily as it had bypassed them the first time. And with that, Uppercrust was standing in the office of a penthouse suite of a mid-tier New England hotel, and he was whole.

    Carefully, he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. They took it easily. The reinforcement of his fields was unneeded. Experimentally he rolled an arm, flexing it and feeling strength and stability he hadn't experienced since…

    Never. Or never in conscious memories. Maybe in a half-forgotten childhood memory, buried under recollections of concerned parents, children's hospitals, and the struggle for a diagnosis. Truly, there was no 'since'. He just hadn't experienced this.

    "I addressed the genetic damage and the issues with protein shaping." Apeiron explained. "Including persistent and secondary effects from the condition. As a warning, the healing has rebalanced your endocrine system, so your cortisol should stabilize soon. Until they do you might feel a bit of a rush, until you adjust to the new balance."

    "Yes, I, um…" Uppercrust wasn't used to being at a loss for words. Even on his worst days, he had held his own in the Elite and against their foes. A man of iron will and unbreakable discipline. Not the type to get overwhelmed.

    "I think I'm feeling it." He deflected, savoring another breath. It was catching up with him. What he had sought, held out hope to one day acquire, no matter the cost. Cure. Not treatment, management or mitigation. A cure.

    No, it was more than a cure. He could tell, he was in better condition than he had ever been. This wasn't just a mitigation of the congenital curse that ravaged his body, it rolled back all the damage, 'restoring' him to a point he had never actually attained.

    "The healing." He broached carefully. He was not about to complain about the directness of Apeiron's action, even if Yellowjack would complain about being excluded from monitoring the treatment. "Was that nanotech?"

    It was a presumptuous and loaded question, but with the nature of their arrangement there was a decent chance that Apeiron would entertain him. The applications of that level of medical nanotechnology were staggering, as were the ways they could be abused. Given the feats Apeiron had displayed, it had been suggested that he avoided public attention due to casual use of technology that would typically trigger a mass response and S-Class designation.

    The cape looked at him, his eyes barely visible through the concealment of his visor-mask. Then he gave a slight nod. "It is." He said, confirming the worst fears of PRT analysts. Or one of their worst fears. At this point there was no shortage of things for that organization to panic over.

    Though at least now he would have someone running interference and information control. Uppercrust smiled as he thought over the arrangement, the contract he had made. He would have happily paid, even with the most ruinous cost. For this, for true health, there was no question. But it was clear that Apeiron was not going to raid and plunder his cell, empty their coffers while sending them on missions of petty vengeance.

    The offer, and the shape of it, had been taken as he hoped it would, as an alliance that acknowledged the gulf in power between their organizations. If the benefits of the alliance only flowed towards the Celestial Forge, then so be it. They had already paid more than their share of the agreement.

    "I had looked into the possibility of such treatments before." Uppercrust admitted. He flexed the hand Apeiron had grasped, feeling the weight and solidity that had been completely absent before. "To no avail I'm afraid. Certain obstacles tended to resurface repeatedly, even between independent projects."

    Apeiron nodded. "A characteristic of tinker tech. Support effects, maintenance requirements, mounting complexity, and obstacles to certain applications would have impeded such a project."

    "But not for you." Uppercrust replied in a low voice. It would have been tempting to press further, seek answers regarding reports of power modifications, broken limits, cluster theories, or passenger dynamics. A million questions, points of uncertainty that the entire world wanted answered. But not questions that needed answers, not for him.

    Besides, it was unneeded. He had a contract. An asymmetrical contract, but not one he would ever complain about. Apeiron had already followed through on his end, now it was his turn.

    "Now," he said, drawing himself up notably without the assistance of his force field brace. "Seeing as you have fulfilled your portion of our agreement, I believe the initiative falls to me. So, I must ask, what would ask of me and my branch of the Elite?"

    He watched Apeiron carefully. He offered everything to secure his life, now was the moment of truth. The point where he would learn the true cost.

    "I have… commitments I need to deal with in this city." He explained. As always, he held himself with inhuman grace and poise as he spoke. One of the theorized stranger effects attributed to the man. "Plans are in motion that could be disrupted by an overt link between us. I would prefer to keep our connection discreet for the time being."

    "An acceptable arrangement." Uppercrust wasn't certain how much Apeiron knew about the dynamics of the Elite, but the more time he had before his association became public and his revised medical status was revealed, the more time he would have to moderate the reaction.

    And there would be a reaction. He wasn't blind to the machinations of the other directors. The alliances and deals being made behind his back, the factions that had sprung up. In a perfect world he would have time to defuse the situation before it could erupt. At the very least, he should be able to keep the Elite from splintering in the aftermath.

    "And I would ask you to continue to pursue the assets outlined in your report." He gestured to the folder on the coffee table. Apeiron hadn't looked at it since the first time he skimmed the pages, but somehow Uppercrust was sure the entire contents had been committed to memory.

    "Some assets will be more difficult to leverage than others." He cautioned. "I will, of course, make every effort and keep you apprised of their progress."

    "Thank you." The tall cape said, then shifted slightly, glancing towards the common room.

    "Is there anything else?" Uppercrust asked.

    He received a stern nod in reply. "There is one thing."

    "Then please, let me know what I can do for you." Uppercrust said jovially.

    The look he received was anything but jovial. In a hard voice, and with an expression that spoke more than Uppercrust could imagine, he replied with a direct and uncompromising command.

    "Clean house."

    Uppercrust found he had involuntarily shifted back from the near physical force of the man's words. Generally speaking, Uppercrust was not easily cowed, but the intensity of Apeiron's conviction was shocking even to him.

    "I beg your pardon?" He prompted in a concerned tone.

    "Before any personal projects or public associations, this is what I'm asking of you. Put your house in order." At Uppercrust's continued prompting, Apeiron continued.

    "I understand the position you are in, and the world in which you operate. Compromises needed to be made. I do not believe you are a man who savored or indulged in cruelty, but I am well aware of how cruel the world can be. I cannot begrudge you for meeting like with like." He explained. "Similarly, I understand that when faced with the challenges of this world, one might find themselves more tolerant of certain actors than they would otherwise be. Individuals who breach the boundaries of civility, indulging in monstrous behavior that would disgust any man."

    Names and faces flashed through Uppercrust's mind. Mostly from other cells or branches, but not entirely. The Elite was a network, not a set of petty kingdoms. Tolerance for varying levels of evil was, as Apeiron had stated, a necessity of the job.

    "Perhaps they provided some resource or connection, some utility or vital power. Some combination of assets that excused their crimes. Maybe they hide their vices adeptly or diffuse responsibility through a group of similar actors." He shook his head. "Really, I don't care about the specifics of how they came to be. I just want them dealt with."

    "You're talking about a purge. A culling of my cell." Uppercrust said. Out of the hundreds of capes who officially reported to him, how many would fall below the threshold? What would be the threshold?

    No, that wasn't the question. Not really. Uppercrust knew where the line was drawn. Apeiron wasn't taking this stance to address tax cheats or people who managed kickbacks. Monstrous had a clear implication, and Uppercrust was honest enough with himself to be able to acknowledge it.

    "I would consider this more of a test of conviction." He replied. "Commitment through sacrifice." His expression softened slightly as he met Uppercrust's eyes. "I believe you are, at the very least, a man of standards. As such, certain actors would not be tolerated if there were not a consequence for their removal."

    Uppercrust inclined his head. "Unfortunate, but true. I wish I could say there were no capes in my employ meeting the parameters you outlined, but operating an organization such as mine can be a complicated business." He gave Apeiron a sharp nod. "My offer was sincere, and I will carry out your wishes, but this will be an extensive process, and there will be consequences for my branch."

    Apeiron seemed reassured as he nodded in acknowledgement. "I understand, and I believe this is where I come in."

    Uppercrust raised an eyebrow. He suspected Apeiron's meaning, but wouldn't risk the presumption.

    "An offer that generous, I had wondered if you were counting on my commitment to previous contracts?" Uppercrust was careful to give no reaction to the man's prodding. "A commitment from you is only good so long as you are safe and able to act. The resources of your branch are only useful so long as the branch continues to function. It rather creates an incentive to safeguard such assets, does it not?"

    "I suppose so." Uppercrust said diplomatically. His face was neutral, but he was smiling on the inside.

    "Of course." Apeiron huffed. "Any loss from this action, if it can be amended by my support, then you have it." He paused for a moment. "In fact…"

    The man reached a gloved hand towards an empty section of floor. A white framework appeared, creating the outline of an array of rectangular objects centered on the carpet in front of the desk. The framework filled in, then flashed white, leaving rows of neatly stacked bars of yellow metal pressing heavily into the carpet.

    Gold bullion, neatly arranged. A full ton of gold, one thousand bars at one kilogram each. The weight spread enough to avoid stressing the floor, it effectively created a second low table of gleaming metal.

    "To address any initial expenses of this operation." Apeiron said casually.

    "I appreciate the intention, but projected material…" He trailed off, seeing the clear amusement on the man's face. "I'm sorry?"

    "These are projected." The cape raised his hands. In one a flash of blue light condensed into a gold bar. In the other a cloud of apparent pixilation condensed into an identical piece of metal. He tossed them away with complete indifference, with one fading into blue light and the other exploding into a cloud of voxels. "That is fabricated. Elemental synthesis from high energy plasma."

    "Ah." Given Apeiron's other feats, elemental fabrication wasn't a significant stretch. He looked down at the stack of what had to be over fifty million in precious metal. He really should check the commodity prices. "I appreciate the gesture, but I can assure you, my own resources on that front are not at all lacking."

    The impossible tinker gave a casual shrug. "I'm sure additional liquidity or untraceable cash wouldn't go amiss. And besides, it's not something I can really monetize myself."

    That brought a smile to Uppercrust's face. "Precisely the kind of issue I am well equipped to deal with. Very well, I will see to this for you."

    The man returned the smile. "I didn't expect much opposition to giving away gold. Though I suppose you are correct. This won't be enough to address primary concerns." He paused, his face turning serious. "That will take something more."

    "You have something in mind?" Uppercrust asked. The intensity in Apeiron's eyes had an unnerving quality.

    "I might." A glow appeared in Apeiron's hand, condensing into a smith's hammer of mesmerizing beauty that appeared to be cast of pure starlight. "If we're being candid, there is some truth to the claims that I am a 'power tinker'."

    Before Uppercrust could speak the hammer came down, ringing a pure note as it struck empty air, then flashed like a miniature sun.

    (Author's note: The addendum for this chapter needed to be cut short and will be concluded in the preamble of the next chapter. For those interested, points were earned during the addendum, with a single failed roll on the Magitech constellation. There are currently 200 points banked, with the next roll being at 300.)

    Jumpchain abilities this chapter:

    Whispered (Full Metal Panic) 600:
    Due to a Soviet experiment a while ago, you're one of the exceptionally rare people known as the Whispered. they have an incredibly advanced knowledge of math, science, engineering, etc though each Whispered only specializes in a single area. If they take the time to learn or supplement this with other technical skills, it's possible to potentially create Black Technology of their own. -The 'Whispered' trait alone is not enough to create Black Technology, but additional tech perks will make this a very real possibility.

    ARM SLAVE M6 Bushnell (Full Metal Panic) Free:
    A bulky Arm Slave constructed by the United States. This is a Generation 2 mech that requires less rigorous piloting, but its loud noise makes it a problem with stealth. To make up for its slowness it has thicker armor.

    Office (Personal Reality) 50:
    A personal office specifically for you, so that you can perform your white collar paper-shuffling in relative privacy. A decent sized office, it comes with all the basic supplies and equipment, such as notepads, paper clips, ink pens, filing cabinets and a desk. If you purchased Computer Hub it comes equipped with computer equipment as well. If you have VOWP it has a phone with an outside line that always direct dials whoever you want to reach in your current Host Reality… even if they don't have a phone… you may not use this ability to locate them or translocate to their location or tag them with any power or ability or technology. You can ask them where they are, but they don't have to tell you. This office has the effect of slightly boosting your focus, reading speed, reading comprehension, and retention rate, but only as long as you're alone in it. Alternatively, it can be set up as a cubicle farm with 20 individual cubicles.. but honestly… why would you? If you do, each cubicle gets a potted plant, an executive desk toy involving magnets or chrome balls, and a japanese lucky cat statue sized to fit on a desk. All are completely mundane. Additional purchases are allowed, each adding the next Fibonacci number of offices (or 20 cubicles per office). Thus, the second purchase will get you a second office, while the third purchase will get you 2 more offices, and the fourth will get you 3 offices and the fifth will get you 5 offices… please tell me you aren't seriously going to waste WP on OFFICE SPACE? What part of 'Keep this entertaining' escaped you, CPA Man!?

    Computer Hub (Personal Reality) 50:
    A top-of-the-line mainframe / supercomputer with basic additional equipment, like scanners (2D and 3D, standard- and poster-sized) and printers (color, black and white, bulk printer, 3D printer, blueprint-printer), and binding equipment. Perfectly assimilates any upgrades done to it. Comes with operating system of your choice, be it Windows, Linux, Android, iOS, etc. You and each companion receive their own personal desktop computer, laptop, and tablet. With the Extranet, all the computers in the Personal Reality are linked via an internal Intranet as well. If you have Central Control and Robots, they're linked into the Intranet. All printing supplies (filament, paper, ink) must be supplied by the Jumper, but if you have the Mall, you can always find a print supply shop within without having to assign one of your slots to it.

    Realistic Ground Cover (Personal Reality) 100:
    Sick and tired of linoleum or concrete? This is the one for you. Now your Personal Reality floor can be turned into any naturally occurring terrain type, in sections, or roads and paths of your design. Any dirt or dust that would be created by this is magically taken care of… unless you don't want it to be.

    Dig it (Personal Reality) 100:
    You now have 40 meters of foundation material under your RGC. Why? Gardening? Graves? Whatever. It's just rocks and dirt down there, but all buildings you buy in this supplement have perfectly decent foundations installed under them. If you bought the Underside, all that space is diggable too. You might even find some weird or cool stuff buried. Nothing amazing, but you'll be amused.

    Craftsmen of the Gods (Viking Saga) 600:
    Things you make yourself from base components gain properties far beyond what they should. Belts that increase strength several times over or a spear that never misses are well within your skill, and you will only get better.

    Farming tool (Viking Saga) Free:
    Hit ho's with hos.
     
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  • Threadmarks
    • Hooray!

    OH NO!

    Aww...

    I will edit this once I have read the chapter

    Edit: FUCK YEAH!!! Best outcome possible, also on a side note, I'm surprised Faultline and her crew weren't the one to contact him first.
     
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    24K words and it was still "cut short." I think Lord and I have very different definitions of the word short 😂

    This chapter was everything I wanted and more! Definitely a little sad we didn't get something like Titan's Blood or something to bring in some more humorous elements of Joe trying to explain things, but it was still great. Can't wait for the next chapter to see Uppercrust's reaction as the first tinker to witness Joe do his forging thing!!
     
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