A/N: Finally done! And not even because it was hard to write or anything like that, I just had no time to sit down and actually write. On the positive side, having spent so many hours on the back of a cary with nothing to do gave me ample opportunity to properly plan ahead this next arc. I think you'll like it.
Nuclear Fire 75
I never fully comprehended the saying 'hurry up and wait' until now.
Oh, I knew what it meant from an intellectual perspective. In prolonged combat against an enemy of equal strength, where information is lacking and immediate objectives unclear, sometimes the only thing you can do is to rush to take strategic locations only to wait for the rest of the army to get into position. Or for the enemy to make their move so you know where they are and how to counterattack.
What no one can teach you is the impotence you feel knowing that the enemies are out there, they are a real and constant threat, and yet you have no way to get to them. Either because they are in a fortified position you have no way to take or -like in this case- because you no longer know where they are. And so the only thing you can do is wait and pray for the best, without a valid outlet for all that pent-up energy that keeps building up inside you waiting to explode.
I didn't sleep after Tattletale's call. How could I? Even tinkering fails to distract me as all my efforts turn towards ways to destroy the Fallen, and I spend hours pacing back and forth like a caged lion.
It's a mercy when Taylor announces that the PRT wants to meet us to develop an appropriate response. I immediately pack my things and I follow her to their HQ, leaving the rest of the team behind ready to move out in case they get any news.
The meeting doesn't start on the right foot.
"What are they doing here?" Taylor grunts looking at the assembled group.
We aren't the only ones that Renick called. Armsmaster and Miss Militia are, of course, there representing the Protectorate. So is Dragon, through a monitor, even if I don't know if her involvement is an official statement from the Guild or if this is just a personal matter. The Guild's whole deal is tracking down and dealing with S-Class threats, so I suspect the former with a side order of Colin being here.
Grue and Tattletale are there too, waiting for us in the role of rogues and associates, and Vicky, Amy, and Mark -this last one the only one in uniform- are representing what remains of New Wave.
The ones that Taylor speaks about, though, are the three individuals seated the furthest away from us.
"Relax, girl! Didn't you hear? We're turning a new leaf!" The one to speak is Circus, who seems to have taken leadership of this group. To-- uh-- their side is Chariot, wearing a suit that makes him look like a sleek astronaut -with roller skates!- and Trainwreck, who's wearing a new generation of his power armor, this one more refined. Or at least, without so many patches of rust. I wonder if Chariot helped him build it.
"You helped the Empire break out of prison!"
"Come on! That was, like, ages ago!"
I can almost hear the sound of Taylor grinding her teeth next to me but the moment is cut short by Renick's intervention. "The PRT reached out to small-time villains after the defeat of Leviathan and offered pardons as long as they hadn't committed any serious crimes. In exchange for that, they'd have to become heroes."
Of course, they'd leverage that victory as a way to boost their numbers and reputation.
"And what? Are they with the PRT now?"
"No, a corporation got to them first," He explains. "But corporate teams are still considered hero teams as long as they follow a series of strict regulations, and so they could apply for the pardon."
Legal bulshittery. One of the main reasons why having superior firepower is so important.
"What corporation?"
Whatever Renick is about to say dies in his mouth when Circus interrupts. "I'm sorry but our client would prefer to remain--"
"It's Medhal," Tattletale cuts her in turn. "They were hired by Medhal."
Figures. Kaiser may no longer have his empire but still has ways to influence things behind the scenes, and with this move he has effectively bought the loyalty of those three. A pity really because I was starting to like Circus.
"Dick move," They say, hurling Lisa an angry stare to which she replies with an unconcerned shrug.
No funny quips? No sarcasm? Not even a tiny tongue sticking out?
Lisa is most definitely not in the mood for pleasantries right now.
Before things can get out of hand, Renick intervenes bringing the reunion back in order. "Please, Heavy Gear, take a seat so we can begin."
We do as he says, ending sandwiched between New Wave and the Undersiders.
It's not a happy place to be in.
I take brief glances at Grue and Glory GIrl but none of them are staring at me and that puts my nerves at ease. Why were the only empty seats between the two people whose families I broke?
Renick takes a final look around to make sure that everyone's quiet before officially starting the meeting. "The reason why I called you here is to share information so we can form a unified front against this." He nods at Dragon and several screens at Renick's back come to life, showing pictures of several crime scenes that were taken -I assume- last night.
In Nevada, a retirement home went up in flames. Fifty casualties, thirty fatalities.
In Idaho, a group of some twenty bikers drove through a small town, smashing the skulls of whoever they found in their way. Men, women, and children alike. More than a hundred casualties, some ten fatalities.
In Kansas, a team of Wards got assaulted in what many believe was a kidnapping attempt. Protectorate heroes intervened and saved them, but not before one of the Wards got her face disfigured with a knife.
There are a good dozen small attacks like those. Lightning strikes in remote locations where the authorities lacked presence. All attributed to Fallen cells scattered around the country suddenly going active.
The one that triggered Lisa's reaction last night took place in Ohio. A trucker going to Boston was shot in the head by a passing biker. The truck lost control and impacted a car coming in the opposite lane. The family of five died on the scene before the emergency services arrived.
If I was still human my nails would have cut my palms with how strong I'm clenching my fists.
How utterly pointless. Senseless. Nothing was gained in these attacks. They killed just for the sake of it with no other objective but to spread terror.
"How long have they been planning all this?" I ask while pushing down the saliva that had accumulated in my mouth. I'd really like to sink my teeth into something warm and raw right now.
"Not for long," Lisa eases some of my worries. "A week, two tops. They must have been preparing something since Leviathan, but Tech-Priest's reveal and then the announcement of our partnership with Boston forced them to attack." She aims an index at the screen with the dead trucker. "That one was largely an attack of opportunity."
It's a good thing that I'm wearing my helmet or the low and rabid growl coming from my throat would have worried those present here.
"Excuse me," Circus speaks up. "But what is our role in all this? If these attacks are happening away from Brockton Bay, why should we care?"
Because after finally bringing some order back to this world these
moNGrelS had dared to push it further into chaos. Because they dared to hurt those who weren't involved. Because they dared to attack what was
OURS. Total annihilation is the only valid response.
"Because the death of Leviathan was attributed to five capes," Lisa explains it better than I could ever hope to. "All of which are currently residents of Brockton Bay. These attacks are just the start of a far bigger campaign in retaliation for that."
These are rats biting back in desperation. One of their false gods was defeated, proving the folly of their broken beliefs. Now they are trying to reaffirm their importance through violence.
"If what they want is a fight with us, I say that we give it to them," Taylor's statement brings a smile to my face. "Where are they?"
"The PRT think-tank is currently trying to decipher their location," Renick tells us. "But most attempts so far have failed."
Lisa shakes her head. "The Simurgh faction is controlled by a powerful Cape capable of countering enemy Thinkers. If you see her, even if it's through powers, she knows and can take control of you. Trying to search for her through powers would end extremely poorly."
Fucking Mama Mathers.
"This is the first time we have heard about that. Do you have a name?"
"No. Not knowing their name or face is the main protection you will have. And do tell Costa-Brown about this. I doubt that she wants her most powerful Thinkers under this Cape's control."
When I tried to give Lisa more details about the Mathers Clan back when I dumped all the important information on her, she stopped me. Good thing she did because any of us getting compromised would be a serious problem.
"How can we fight something like that?" Victoria asks.
"Overwhelming power. Attacking first and fast and don't give the Fallen time to react. Tech-Priest's robots should be immune to any master power. So should he after his upgrade. I'm like-- 85% sure of that."
And doesn't that ring like music to my ears?
This is what I was built to do. By my own hands. By
GAia'S. To prowl the night, hunt down those that would dare to harm us, and feast on their terror.
"Then that makes it easy," I reply. "I go out there, I find them, I break them. Even if they somehow take control of me they won't be able to control the hive." At the end of the day, Mama Matters is just a human. I'm faster and stronger than her so I just need to kill her before she has time to process my presence. And if I somehow fail, the hive will be there right behind me.
"I can't allow that," Renick responds and the muscles of my neck tense up in barely contained anger. "We believe that these attacks are not only to reaffirm their importance but also to weaken us. They know that they can't attack Brockton Bay directly, and so they want to split us up and force a confrontation on favorable ground."
If your enemy has taken a fortified position, attack wherever he's not. This will become a problem if we face guerrilla tactics, but we can't allow them to roam free either or they will simply grow in strength. With our sensors and artificial units, we're in a much better position to fight them than the PRT is, so I say that we take care of this.
"Let's give it to them!" I argue back. "They aren't stronger than us. They won't win."
"That's exactly what they want! To get us out of the Bay. How can you know that they don't have a way to defeat you?"
I extend my palm, and from inside my body emerges a glass tube with a single chip inside. "Because nothing that The Fallen have is stronger than this!"
Most of those in the room look at it with suspicion, aware of my fame and that whatever I created will be something to be deeply afraid of. The tinkers, though? Oh, they know what this thing is capable of.
"What is that?" Armsmaster's voice is a mix of shock and something that I'd dare call hunger.
"The Combat Adaptation and Regeneration Manager," I answer, reabsorbing the chip. "Or CARM for short." As much as I wanted to name it The Big Gete Star there's only so far I can push before copyright infringement becomes a real issue. And the original name is a bit silly. "Imagine that you put Lung and Crawler in a blender and then remove their respective weaknesses."
Any attack that damages my body will get analyzed, the missing part reconstructed, and the whole upgraded so it can never be damaged in the same way ever again. And the more I use it, the stronger I'll become. With the advantage that my shape will remain relatively human, unlike what happened to Crawler. I'll also keep all the upgrades, unlike Lung.
For it to work I'll install it into the Hive, so it can use its processing power to administrate my defenses, and the subspace storages of Khaydarin to provide me with raw material for the reconstruction. That sadly means that it can only benefit one organism at a time -me, in this case- but maybe once the Hive has grown big enough that will stop being a limitation.
"If the PRT can't fight The Fallen," Taylor follows through, "we will."
It's a good thing that Danny had to stay back and handle our respective schools plus his own work to perpetuate the illusion that we're a normal family. Otherwise, if he was here, I can imagine him getting a big headache.
"You can't just march outside Brockton Bay whenever you want!" Renick's face turns an unhealthy shade of red as he says that.
This is seriously getting on my nerves.
"New Wave helped during the Boston Games," Mark Dallon points out, trying to sound diplomatic about it. "How is this any different?"
Thank you! I always appreciate someone who speaks reasonably.
Renick joins his hands under his nose. "Because Boston had officially asked for outside help. They," he gestures at us, "can't simply deploy in any state without proper authorization from said state. That's a power that only the PRT has."
Even more reason to go full into it and start claiming territories if you ask me, but I don't know if a full war with the United States is something that Taylor would want.
"And what do you propose?" She asks me. "Because once again we're offering to help you, we have the tools to help you, but you refuse out of what to me sounds like pride."
Renick slowly nods, turning towards the other groups assembled here. "The rest of you can leave." Circus and her people take that offer and head towards the door. At least the others stay back waiting for the Director to finish. "Remain wary of any villain activity and if anyone gets any information about local Fallen cells, inform the rest." That sounds reasonable. "And Heavy Gear, give me a couple of hours. I'll talk with the Chief Director and see if I can reach an agreement."
Taylor and I exchange a look.
"We'll be waiting for your answer."
The 'but we won't wait for long' goes unsaid. At least by me. I don't believe that we need to mention that, if we don't like whatever answer he gives us, we'll go out anyway.
As we walk out of Renick's office, I feel this intense need to slam my feet against the ground. That would be intensely satisfying, even if that would result in my foot sinking in and being a pain to pull out.
Why does everything have to be so complicated? If there's an enemy, we go towards said enemy and make them wish that they had never been born. Simple and direct. But nope! We had to get involved in this pissing contest with people fearful of asking for our help thinking that we want to take over. By virtue of us being more effective at the job they should be doing, no less! How hard it is for people to accept that we have no interest in becoming dictators?
"Yeah, because becoming the CEO of a megacorporation is any better," Lisa says at my side, having recovered some of her normal humor.
After leaving the meeting room, she and Gruecame with us. At first, I wondered why until I remembered that, yes, they are our allies.
I should get out of the Workshop more because I didn't remember that.
"This is wrong," he groans under his breath, clenching and unclenching his fists. For a moment there I thought he shared my sentiment on the Fallen, but then he clarifies: "The PRT is making us look like their lapdogs. This isn't what the Undersiders should be."
Can someone, please, stop waving their dicks around for five-fucking-minutes?
"You can leave whenever you want," Taylor offers him.
"And go where? Faultline isn't hiring and there aren't many other groups that would take me. And wouldn't you tear my limbs off if I tried to leave?" There's a hint of amusement in his voice, maybe knowing that the persona of the grim vigilante that Taylor likes to project is largely a facade.
Good thing that she has me.
"Oh, we absolutely would, but we'd still respect your choices and wouldn't take it too personally."
This is the advantage of not being so well known, even amongst our close associates as they aren't sure what to expect of me. And this threat is 100% genuine. I'd still leave him alive, though, because Aisha would complain if I didn't.
"Come on, boss-man!" Lisa intervienes, and I can hear Grue's heartbeats speeding up. "Drop the gangster facade. You love this, don't you? You love the uniforms, love being called 'sir', and love that now we're carrying our meetings in a conference room that smells like peaches instead of a run-down bar in the middle of nowhere that smells like piss and is infested with cockroaches." She takes a quick glance at Taylor. "No offense."
"Non taken?"
"And besides," Lisa continues, "wasn't the entire point of you doing this so your sister would become something better than you?"
To her great amusement, Grue mumbles something under his breath that I can't understand.
"What he means by that is that I'm completely right!" Somehow Lisa's words are a bit hard to believe. At least I doubt that's how Grue would have said that. "And that he wants to know how Imp's doing."
Now that one I believe. It's kind of sweet that there's a concerned brother underneath all the black leather.
"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Taylor replies. "You live together, don't you?"
"I wish," he grumbles. "Ever since you built that stealth suit for her, keeping her in one place has become even more difficult."
Yeah, I can see that. Aisha was never someone who liked being tied down or doing what other people tell her to do, so with freedom at her fingertips of course she'd take it.
"She's doing fine," Taylor tells Grue to put his concerns at ease. "I make sure that she always has support but I don't think there's anything to worry about. Sometimes I wonder if she isn't the smartest person around."
Not having triggered and getting that alien parasite to mess with your head helps. But I'd argue that she's street-smarts because when it comes to books I'm the ruling champion.
There's a long-winded sigh coming from inside Grue's helmet. "I just wished she used that intelligence for something useful."
He sounds like a father. Which was the source of the entire problem, as I remember it. That's why she came to us hoping to be with people who treated her as an equal.
Any further conversation is immediately halted as Taylor tenses up. I worry for a moment, not sure what it could be until I see the flash of a person hovering above us.
Grue also enters a combat position, maybe remembering past altercations, but neither Lisa nor I do.
I don't know what her excuse could be, but I don't do it because I really don't want to fight her. Also because part of me wonders if letting her punch me a bit won't make things better.
At least Victoria doesn't seem to be looking for a fight either as she scans us with a tired expression as if she wasn't completely happy with this meeting either. "I come in peace," she tells us, raising an open palm.
Maybe that's not the opening that most people would accept, but it does manage to put me at ease at least. One had to love the classics.
"Glory Girl," Taylor says, an edge still clear in her tone. "Or should it be Victoria Dallon considering that you're out of costume?"
She shrugs. "Glory Girl is fine for now. At least until I come up with a better name." Then she shakes her head as if not wanting to get distracted. "That's not important. Look, I just came to talk with Tech-Priest."
A reflex action that I couldn't fully remove from my organic days is getting my hair to stand on end. If I wasn't clothed, I'd be looking like a pom-pom right now.
"Whatever grievances you may have with my teammate--" Her words come to an abrupt stop when my hand closes around her wrist.
This may not be the brightest idea ever, but this is something I want to do. I want closure with Victoria, and this is the best chance I'll get.
"It's okay," I reassure Taylor. "I can handle it."
She glances at Vicky and then back at me. "Are you sure about this?"
Of course I'm not, but I still nod.
"Very well, then. But I'll remain around just in case." With a gesture of her head, she tells Grue and Lisa to follow her. He may not be happy acting as if he's under Taylor's command, but I think that he likes being around the flying brick even less and so he doesn't object.
With them gone -at least in appearance, Taylor may have left some of her bugs around- I decide to take the initiative. "So, how are you doing?" Not the most original opening move ever, but it's what I have.
Vicky stares at me, pacing back and forth in the air before answering. "Can we move to a more private place?"
So she can scream to her heart's content? "Sure, no problem."
A minute later we're on the rooftop, away from mundane prying eyes. This looks like the set for a romantic declaration if this was a Japanese visual novel, or a murder if this was an American crime drama. But I doubt that she has any interest in killing me. As I told Taylor so long ago, hiding a corpse is not easy and I don't believe that Vicky is on the stage where she no longer cares about those details.
"I'm doing fine," she tells me with a bitter smile, answering my earlier question. "I have a place of my own, a job, and a new boyfriend."
I wonder who the new guy is. I feel slightly bad for Gallant as their breakup was partly my fault.
Scratch that, it was mostly my fault.
But what can I say about it? A simple 'I'm sorry' must be one of the most meaningless phrases in the human vocabulary, only usable when you want to bury your responsibilities and move on.
That's why I use it so often.
"I wasn't expecting you to talk to me again this soon." A simple observation on my part. Nothing more, nothing else.
"That makes two of us," she replies with a faint frown. "Look, I'm still not sure what to make of you." Join the club. "I blame you and that Tattletale bitch for this entire mess!" She yells, making me flinch as I'm reminded that I made her take the fall for all the knowledge I have. "And the worst part is that I'm not sure if I should be angry or not!"
Now that throws me for a loop. I thought that the answer to that was obvious.
"Why not?"
"Because you didn't cause any of this! You didn't force Amy to make this public, didn't force New Wave to adopt her, and didn't force Carol to--" She stops herself, her face twisting into a grimace of pain. "It has been weeks but it still feels unreal."
And that is something that I understand very well. A lie is easy to deal with. You just ignore it and move on. But how can you fight the truth?
That's why facing Tattletale can be so devastating.
"How's Amy doing?"
Vicky slowly lowers herself coming to take a seat at the edge of the roof. "That's the worst part. Both she and dad are doing better than I've seen them in years. I genuinely believe that this was the right thing to do, but it sucks so much!"
That's the problem with right and wrong. They aren't universal, and what may be right for some people may not be so for others. The question then becomes who deserves what, but I'll always side with those who were lied to.
"If that's the case," I tell her slowly and deliberately, building up courage for what I'm about to say next. "I'm not apologizing for what I did."
A brief and angry chuckle escapes her throat. "I should punch you in the face right now."
"And I wouldn't hold it against you if you did either." How could I blame her for it? She was an innocent in all this whom my actions hurt.
Viky slowly raises up and I get ready to disconnect my pain receptors, but she just shakes her head. "Look, it's nice getting this all off of my chest, but the main reason I came here is that I need help with something and you may be the best person to ask about it." She makes a pause to compose herself. "Is there a way to disable my aura?"
I raise an eyebrow at that. "Is this about your boyfriend?"
"Yes," She states. "But also--" Her lips tremble but she doesn't elaborate on it. "It doesn't matter. Can you do it or not?"
Did Amy tell her about her feelings for her? And if she did, how did they figure out it was because of Vicky's aura? Assuming that's at fault here because I don't remember if the story ever clarified the source of that entire ugly mess.
I have no idea what to do about that -or if I should- and so I focus on the request.
It's an interesting challenge. One that should -in theory- be perfectly doable. That doesn't mean that I need to do it alone, though.
"Absolutely! Just let me get my experts on the case."
When Dragon told me that the PRT had given Kid Win a new laboratory I quickly archived that piece of information under 'random miscellaneous' and promptly forgot about it. Looking at it now I realize that wasn't the smartest move.
On a corner, suspended inside an ant-gravity generator is something that looks like a bunch of lego bricks, constantly rearranging of their own volition. Next to it, there's a 3D printer plugged into a computer that seems to be copying the shapes that the legos take. There are dozens of tools discarded here and there, and to power it all there's a generator the size of a bedside table burning some form of exotic fuel that my power currently can't identify.
And there is room for expansion because this workshop is twice as big as his previous one with a third of it still free.
I admit, there has never been a bigger incentive to join the Wards than this. If Glen Chambers had opened his negotiations showing me something like this, it'd have made me consider switching sides.
It's because of that why at this very moment I pledge to help Valerie set her workshop up because I don't want her to get embroiled in the PRT's slimy tentacles. Something that won't be easy as she seems to enjoy climbing the pipes running atop Kid Win's ceiling, using her Doctor Octopus arms to swing from place to place.
"Ohhh, what does this do?" Her attention has been dragged to something that looks like one of those multi-tool pliers (the ones that have swiss knives inside their handles) but that uses hard-light shields to keep all its pieces together. I wonder why Kid didn't discard all the metallic pieces and went full energy, but maybe he needs specific mechanical properties that hard-light can't replicate.
And rushing behind her is Kid Win making sure that everything gets back to its place behind Valerie's wake. "Yes, that's a-- That's not supposed to be twisted that way! Please put it down."
In response, she pulls out her tongue and climbs further into the ceiling like a spider reading for an ambush, away from his reach.
It's the eternal struggle of a child visiting a friend's room for the first time. The new toys become the most fascinating thing in the world and so you aim to play with them to your heart's content out of fear of never seeing them again. To the great distress of the owner.
That's why I hated inviting people to my room back in my old life.
"Ely," I call her. "If you want to play with anything, ask Kid Win first. And if you break anything, you will help him fix it." Some measure of discipline is needed to help nurture unruly children. Like the sticks one stakes to plants so they grow upright. Or the sticks that used to be broken against said unruly children's backs when that was socially acceptable.
That seems to do the trick, and slowly she descends from the ceiling to the great amusement of Victoria, who has been looking at the exchange with a grin on her face.
"I'm sorry," Valerie tells Kid, handing him his tool back.
Peace has been reached and nothing was broken, so I'd say that everything is going just fine.
"Enough games for now, you two," I call them. "We have some science to do here!" That is the universal way of getting a tinker's attention, and with Valerie to my right, and Kid Win to my left, we get into the arduous task of finding a solution for our client.
On one of Kid's screens, we put on display an image of Vicky's biology, her brain in particular, for us to study.
For her part, the former New Wave hero hovers above us to keep a close eye on what we're doing. She may not understand the technical details behind it all, but she is our client so I'm fine with her being around. "How worried should I be of you having pictures of me in here?" She asks, glancing at her scans.
Kid chokes on his own saliva, but I take the lead from him. "Don't worry, we're professionals here!"
I'd also add that if I wanted to see nudes there are thousands of those on the internet, but I doubt that quip would be well received.
Vicky keeps staring at us but thankfully Valerie intervenes, maybe unaware of the implications of what we're talking about. "How does her power work?" She asks, pointing at the corona. "Is it radio frequencies? Maybe pheromones! It must be pheromones."
"It can't be that!" Kid Win quickly replies, happy with the change of topic. "If it was pheromones it'd be easy to counter her power with a respiratory system. And if it was radio signals, my systems would have detected them."
If we were talking about traditional signals he'd have a point there, but powers are anything but traditional.
"Is your equipment calibrated to detect interdimensional energies?"
He opens his mouth to answer, then my question sinks in and he cocks his head in confusion.
"No. Do you think that her power works by sending the emotional signal through an alternate dimension? That would explain why we can't detect it."
I don't 'think' it, I know it. That's how shards work, how they communicate with each other, and how they send both matter and energy from one universe to the other. It was also Hero's specialty. I can't tell them any of that, though, because they'd then ask how I know.
"I do have the theory that powers originate from outside our dimension, but I have no way to confirm it." That should be enough for now.
Kid pinches his chin in a way that reminds me of Armsmaster's mannerisms. Val takes a quick glance at him and copies it, but seems to skip the 'thinking' part as she goes straight to talking.
"And if the corona is like an antenna, we can hack it!" She proudly proclaims reaching the logical -and damning- conclusion. "Just like Tony hacked Obadiah's computer!" So young and already quoting pop culture. She makes me so proud!
Almost proud enough to make me ignore the fact that her idea is obscenely dangerous.
"Hey, hey!" Vicky floats between us, putting a pause to this discussion. "Can we try other solutions first before anyone suggests breaking my skull open?"
"But it'd be easy!" Val argues back. "And we're very good. You wouldn't even feel a thing!"
"Yeah, that's the part that worries me a bit."
As tempting as it is, we're most definitely not ready to hack the shard network and risk an early Zion intervention, so as much as it pains me the best thing right now is to kill Val's idea.
"We wouldn't even know where to start or if there are defenses set in place, so I say that we leave that idea for later." Back in the original timeline Panacea and Bonesaw had no problem unshackling Taylor, but Zion was already rampaging at the time so I have no way to guarantee that he won't stop us if we try that now.
Val puffs her cheeks, and by the way Kid keeps rubbing his chin, I can tell that the seed of curiosity already took roots, so I must redirect this conversation back to its origins.
"In any case, I think that the easiest solution here would be to take the shield I built for Imp and give it to whoever Glory Girl's dating."
The Obfuscation armor works by turning the user invisible to shard-sight, making it impossible for powers to target Imp directly. The technology is far too expensive and complex for me to just give it to any random person, but with the help of my associates, I hope to make something cheaper and more practical.
"No." Victoria doesn't raise her voice, but her dry statement is enough to send a chill down my spine. "I already went through that. I don't want to feel like I can only date one person if I don't want to be a rapist."
"What's a rapist?"
Three pairs of eyes turn towards Valerie. Then only two turn towards Victoria, who looks quite mortified by what she just said.
"I-- umh---"
This will get ugly.
I could just throw this lump at Danny. He was more than happy to give me the 'talk' when he thought that Aisha and I were dating -the memories will stay with me forever- but I think I can do this. I want to do this. I want to prove to myself that I can face such a complex issue that I can't just shoot in the face.
"I'll tell you later."
"Okay!" She replies with a happy smile that I already know won't last after I'm done with her.
So--
This is awkward.
"W-what about filtering Glory Girl's aura?" Thank you, Kid Win! Yes, let's move on. "I'm sure that the three of us working together could come up with something that allows her to use her shield but blocks the empathic effect."
That's not a bad idea. It should be theoretically possible even if I don't know how because Dragon Ball isn't cooperating with me when it comes to interdimensional shenanigans.
A pity that Vicky didn't come to me with this question back when I had World of Darkness because her request would have been a cakewalk to fulfill back then.
"If we do that we'll need to add an on-off switch that she can use," I say. "With her shield going down every time it gets hit, she needs the empathic attack to compensate. If it wasn't there terrorizing her enemies they would have no problem focusing fire on her and turning her into a sieve."
When analyzed, her power proves to be an actually very fine-tuned machine. Even if her shield doesn't have lasting power there's almost nothing it can't block, at least for a couple of seconds, and her flying speed mixed with her terror aura makes her difficult to pin down. The problem then is that if we remove one aspect of it the others become less useful. That's why I don't want to go for a blank 'let's remove everything' solution.
"Believe me, I don't want that either," Vicky adds with a sheepish smile.
But how to do this?
A chemical activator that triggers whenever she's angry?
Or maybe a dumb AI that detects enemies and 'shoots' her aura at them. We could load it up to her artificial arm. Allow her to adjust her aura from an AOE attack into something akin to a gun.
These are all good ideas -at least I want to believe they are, I haven't shared them with anyone so I can't tell- but I don't know how to properly execute them.
I have a way to turn her aura off, but not a way to regulate it.
"And why don't we remove her power and improve her?" Val offer. "Let's make her bullet-proof!"
Kid Win and I exchange a look.
Have we been looking at this problem the wrong way?
She needs the terror aura to prevent any redneck with a machine gun from killing her during her vulnerability period, but why not remove that weakness altogether?
Seriously, her aura causes more problems than it solves, so why are we trying to keep it?
"I could improve the one that I built into her arm, and that way she wouldn't need the empathic power!" I take Kid's blackboard by assault hastily sketching a prototype. "I could even make it able to absorb enemy attacks!" Like the ones that the androids had.
"I could increase her bone density!" Valerie squeaks, pressing the tip of her fingers together. "Make them stronger than granite!"
Vicky darts her eyes between us, tries to speak but Kid Win interrupts her.
"What about a subdermal nanomachine mash? They'd harden in response to physical trauma."
Senator Victoria Armstrong? Yeah, I do like how that sounds.
"Okay, guys, let's take a step back." Vicky makes a placating gesture with her hands. "I'm not saying no but please--"
And then it dawns on me.
"Guys, we've all been thinking too small!"
Sidestepping around Vicky I wipe the board clean with a pass of my forearm and holding the marker as if it was an ice pick that I'm about to stab into an annoying person's back, I start drawing.
First I draw a strand of DNA, the classical double helix found in any human being. Then I add an extra pair of strands on top, and then another one. The human DNA is composed of four main components: adenine, thymine, guanine, and cytosine. To that, I add a couple of extra ones, with names I can't even begin to imagine. I also modify the sugar bonds. While the human DNA has binary bonds, this one can connect up to four components in different combinations. Normally this would make this strain extremely chaotic and prone to malfunctions, but the biology reminds me a bit of Zerg anatomy with each new DNA strain competing with each other, and yet keeping the whole intact. This organism isn't as prone to random mutations as a Zerg but still is capable of incredible evolution on its own.
"That design-" Kid mumbles while looking over my shoulder. "It's clearly inhuman, and yet compatible with human DNA.
By that, he means that this organism can have viable offspring with fundamentally different species as long as they have compatible reproductive systems.
"And they can just keep getting stronger!" Valerie gasps. "Look at those muscles. I like that." She says that last part in a tone that no girl her age should ever use, but I push that concern to the back of my mind because I have work to do.
A few moments later I'm done, the result less of a helix and more of a solid DNA tube.
"There!" I take a step back, basking in the glory of my creation. "The genetic blueprint for a race of galactic conquerors! I'm not saying that they could break an Endbringer in half, but they could break an Endbringer in half."
Supposedly any attack strong enough to crack a planet would be strong enough to kill an Endbringer, and when Z rolled around the protagonists were hurling around planet-busting attacks as if they were Coil passing out candy in a kindergarten.
And if we start talking about Super Saiyans-- Super Saiyans are a completely different beast altogether.
Kid's lips turn into a thin line as he takes a closer look at what I drew. "Am I reading this right? What is that mitochondria?"
How do I explain this?
"Did any of you read or play Parasite Eve?"
"No." Comes Kid's swift answer.
"No?" For her part, Victoria's is more doubtful, as if she didn't want to know the answer.
Not to my surprise, Val is the most excited one. "That sounds awesome! But no."
These poor, uneducated children.
But to be fair it was a largely obscure game back in my previous life.
"Long story short, it's about zombies that shoot fireballs by infecting the mitochondria. Do you know how they generate most of the chemical energy for the cell? Well, replace each of your 10 million billion mitochondria with a nuclear reactor and suddenly you have someone who could outfight Alexandria and make Legend look like a laser pointer. Like, seriously, you wouldn't want to aim at the Earth unless you want to give the planet a piercing."
Saiyan biology is a thing of beauty, and yet sadly it's nowhere near as amazing as I'm making it out to be. If your name isn't Broly you won't start as a human-shaped Death Star out of the womb -be it biological or, like in this case, mechanical-. You would barely be stronger than a vanilla human! And if you want to get to that level you need intensive exercise. There are simply no cheat codes when it comes to Saiyans.
That's the reason why I didn't bother upgrading myself with their DNA and instead went for the Big Gete Star. I already went through the whole routine of secluding myself to become stronger when I locked myself in my workshop, I don't want to fall back into that. The world is vast, full of wonders waiting to be built or discovered, and I don't want to waste time training. I leave that to those who enjoy that sort of stuff.
"Okay," Vicky says slowly nodding, her lips faintly curling upwards. "This is most definitely an option."
Have I managed to tempt her with promises of cosmic powers? I hope I did because I've been looking forward to flexing my bioengineering muscles. Machinery is all nice and good but, as Nia said, variety is important and I want to work with something meatier and juicer.
"And the tail will look quite cute too," Val adds with a happy smile.
The-- what?
Oh, yeah, I had totally forgotten about that.
"Tail?!" Vicky yells. "What tail?!"
I may be immune to her terror aura, but the utterly murderous stare she's giving me is enough to make my blood run cold. And I don't even have blood anymore!
This isn't fair! It was a genuine accident, not something I did on purpose!
Oh, God, they are going to think that this is my fetish, aren't they?
I turn to Kid Win seeking support, but I find him blushing and turning away.
Oh, you treacherous bastard! You knew all along, didn't you? But you said nothing and abandoned me to bite the bullet!
"I mean--" I force myself to speak. "It's easy to remove."
"Oh, nonono." Vicky crosses her arms over her chest. "Look, I'm all in for accessorizing this puppy." She raises her mechanical arm, making clear what she's talking about. "But this is going far beyond what I'm comfortable--"
"May I interject?" A new voice coming from speakers around the workshop surprises us, making Vicky pinch the bridge of her nose.
"Not another one."
"Dragon?" I greet her, surprised by her sudden arrival. "Hi. What are you doing here?"
"I apologize for the interruption, but I overheard your conversation and got curious about your power-suppression technology. It would be invaluable to safely contain dangerous parahumans."
As a hero who specializes in international threats, it makes sense that she'd be interested in it. But there's something else here.
"You mean as an alternative to the Birdcage."
That place makes my skin crawl. The closest thing to hell on earth. A dark hole with no laws where dangerous parahumans are thrown in to be forgotten about. And there are innocents in there! But because no one can leave there's nothing to be done about them. It's only out of Dragon's mercy that they get food, oxygen, and entertainment, but I'm sure that many of those in there would argue that a mercy would be to be allowed to die.
The fact that it's a mixed prison only makes it worse. How is it that no child has been born in it yet? Are abortions mandatory? Does Dragon put contraceptives in the inmates' food? That's illegal and immoral as shit, but that's just the Birdcage in a nutshell.
"I have been very vocal about it despite being its warden. I hope that such a technology will allow me to renegotiate its closure."
It won't be nearly as easy as she hopes. That place is less a prison and more a giant 'in case of emergency break this open' box for Cauldron to store all their difficult parahumans. That's why not even basic human decency was a factor when it was built.
"Is that a good idea?" Victoria wonders out louds, folding her arms. "The people there-- they are there for a reason."
Come on, Vicky, I thought you were smarter than this!
"That reason falls apart the moment that powers are taken out of the equation!" I argue back. "And even death row inmates have the right to be visited by their families."
And this thing is far worse than death row.
I'd certainly choose death over it.
Vicky scowls, and I realize that I may have hit too close to home considering that Amy's biological father was sentenced to the Birdcage after New Wave was done with him.
"For that and other reasons," Dragon continues, "is why I'm willing to compensate you three handsomely for any breakthroughs you produce."
This is one that I'm happy doing for free. That place and whoever approves of it is in my 'to tear limb from limb' list and the satisfaction of seeing it erased from memory will be payment enough.
I won't force my associates to follow my example, though. "I'm sure that we can arrange something."
I nod at Val, who nods back in response and then at Kid Win who seems to be in a deadly fight with his tongue.
"Y-yes! I-I'm sure that we can arrange it."
Going from being a frustrated sidekick to having one of the greatest heroes of the world asking for commissioned work would have that effect on anyone.
"One last thing," Dragon adds. "Tech-Priest, Director Renick asked me to fetch you because he has a deal for your team."
Deeply disappointed with our play session having been cut short, I leave promising the others to remain in touch so we can polish this idea.
I have to give it to Renick, he made us a promise and strived to keep it. That's not something I can say about many other human beings. Much less those involved in politics. But it remains to be seen if whatever he will offer is something that we can agree with.
When I reach his office, I find that Taylor and Tattletale are already there, seemingly having arrived just a moment before me. This time the four of us are alone, as the other local hero teams -and I'm using that term extremely loosely- don't have a say in this matter.
"Oh, you're here," Renick greets me with a gesture of his head. "We can begin."
I take the empty seat next to Taylor, who receives me by shaking my shoulder as a sign of affection. It's nice to see that despite the rough day, she remains in high spirits.
"Now!" Renick pushes on. "I want you to hear me out. I've talked to the other PRT directors, and I have an offer. One that the Chief Director approved of."
A scowl threatens to creep into my face but I push it down, in no small part thanks to the extra control provided by the ability to disable my face muscles. If there's something that Alexandria wants, it's something that we should be extremely careful about providing because it may screw us over.
Or be just a dick move out of spite, who knows.
While Lisa snickers at my internal debate, Renick continues. "We will ease regulations and allow you to bypass most official channels for fast deployment. You will only need to announce your presence and agree to work with the local PRT branch of whatever city you decide to act in. That reports villain activity, of course."
That gives me pause.
Is that the actual letter of the agreement? Because our main request was to be allowed to hunt down The Fallen, but the way he's proposing it, this would give us free rein to move against any villains on who we decide to put our sights on.
If I was a more optimistic person I'd say that they have finally recognized how useful we can be as allies and want our help pushing back against local threats. But I'm not, and so my immediate assumption is that they either want to use us as cannon fodder so they don't risk their more loyal capes, or they are hoping that we will eventually bite more than we can chew and this is just enough rope to hang ourselves with.
"What we request in exchange is for a liaison between our organizations. We want to add to your team representatives from both the PRT and the Protectorate."
And there it is!
"So you can spy on us?" Taylor snaps at him.
"So we can better coordinate and make sure no one is stepping on anyone else's toes! The hero isn't a tinker, and even if she works closely with us she's currently an independent. So is the PRT agent, who we're bringing back onto active duty for this. They'd have to follow any rule you impose on them, and you don't need to show them anything that you may consider sensitive for your operations. We just want you to take them in the role of advisors."
I don't like this one bit. To any outsider, the PRT could easily spin this as them 'graciously' sharing their experience so we can build up our own infrastructure, but that doesn't change the fact that we'd be allowing strangers into our ranks.
I don't want them with us. Everything I do is for the people I like, not for anyone else.
Does Renick believe that his offer is a noble one? Maybe he does. In an organization full of anger, corruption, and intolerance he strikes me as someone who actually believes in the spirit of what the PRT should be, unlike many of the higher-ups. But I'm a complete disaster when it comes to interacting with other people, so what do I know?
Like a child who steadily crawls closer to the cookie jar and will proceed to eat them all if no one stops him, this strikes me as the PRT pushing their boundaries even further. See how close to us they can get before they fuck us over.
"Who are we talking about here?" Taylor's voice is devoid of any emotion as she asks that.
Renick reaches for the communicator on his desk and speaks into it. "Let them in."
They are here? Quite presumptuous of Renick to assume we'd accept their terms. And how did they get here so fast? Are they locals, or is there a teleporter involved?
The door opens, and we are blasted with the sound of music:
I-- what?
"Shut up, shut up or I'll stab you in the--" On the other side of the door there's a woman currently fighting against what seems to be her Ipod. She's dressed in brown clothes, with a sword at her waist and a shield hanging from her back.
Mouse Protector.
The woman whose life we saved when we tipped the PRT off to the plans of the Slaughterhouse 9. The 9 managed to escape, but at least something good came out of that.
She releases a sigh of relief when the music dies, and that's when she notices that we're all staring at her.
"O, hello my dears! I didn't see you there!" She greets us with her hands at her waist.
I slowly lean towards Lisa. "Was that on purpose?"
"I-- I don't know."
Well, that's slightly scary.
Mouse Protector moves into the room, not walking but hoping, skipping every other step, and as she does the mouse ears attached to her helmet wave in the air.
She lunges at Taylor, capturing her in a bear-hug and shaking her from side to side. "Ladybug! My long-lost sister in plagues, we finally met! I loved your work with the Egyptians."
Taylor goes perfectly still, surprised by the unexpected assault. I jump to my feet to get her out of the hero's grip, but Mouse Protector blinks out of existence only to reappear a fraction of a second later at my side.
"And Tech-Priest! Thankfully you aren't a cat-person or we'd have problems."
Is-- is that racist? I feel like that should be racist.
Mouse Protector disappears once again, this time landing at Tattletale's side.
"And you-- I don't know who you are so you mustn't be important."
Of all the insulting things one could say to Lisa--
And just like that, I realized that Mouse Protector and Aisha are in the same city. Even worse, the PRT wants to put them on the same team. There are crueler ways to trigger the Apocalypse, but not many.
Thoughts about the impending doomsday then get interrupted by the sound of footsteps.
That, and the clicking of a walking stick.
A second woman comes in, her movement slower and more measured.
It takes me a moment to recognize her because even if she should be barely in her late 30s or early 40s it's as if she has aged an entire decade since the last time we saw her.
"Renick," Emily Piggot offers the current director of PRT ENE a courteous nod. "A pleasure to see you again."
…
