All thanks to my betas
@Blitzgamer,
@justanothercat,
@Sylnarri,
@Wheatstick, and eclaire!
-------
"Nothing remained but a few drifting embers and the smell of smoldering hair."
—
Night in Brockton Bay was a dangerous thing. It may not seem so at first blush; a tourist would see only the bright and shiny side of the city, one kept ready for presentation. The bustle of downtown. The well monitored boardwalk. A city in decline, but still a safe city.
The natives knew better. As they drew into the parts of the city they drew their coats tighter, avoided the eyes of strangers, and made their way home as quickly as possible. At least, most of them did. For others, the cover of night was exactly what they wanted. All this flitted through Taylor's head as she carefully moved further into the Docks. Swarms of insects followed her, hidden in shadows, flowing across the tops of buildings, and through darkened interiors. Her dark silk and chitin armor camouflaged her in those same shadows.
A hand ghosted over a tag, a graffitied red-and-green
ABB. She was tense, all nervous energy and adrenaline with nowhere to go. She'd expected to find more problems, given her hometown's reputation. She had to ignore the guilt as she found herself desperately hoping to find someone in trouble. Her swarm, hidden though it was, searched with the same energy as she did. Every bug that found nothing in an empty alley sent her shoulders dipping lower.
Until there
was something. Until they found an alley that
wasn't empty. She came to a stop just before the entrance to the alley, her breath held in her chest as she tried not to give herself away. Her costume was good; she expected it to be knife proof at the very least. But, even though insect senses were largely incomprehensible to the human brain, she could make out the shapes of rifles and pistols by the things her smaller minions felt as they landed on them.
Ice filled her chest as she chanced a peek around the corner, as she laid eyes on the group. A massive man clad in only jeans, his muscular torso bared to the night air leaving the intricate dragon tattoos clear to any who dared look. As he turned to look at the smaller assembled men clad in red and green amber street light shined across a metallic dragon mask like firelight.
She knew who he was, as inexperienced as she was. Same as anyone else who'd lived in Brockton Bay for any length of time. He was a fellow Cape. A fellow Parahuman.
He was
Lung. Leader of the ABB, one of the largest and most dangerous gangs in her city. She didn't know much about him, but she knew he was strong and able to control fire. She knew he got stronger as he fought, and she knew that he'd once fought off the entirety of the local Protectorate. Alone. And then there were the stories. That he had dueled
Leviathan, one of the Endbringers, the drowner of entire cities, and drove the monster away.
She wanted to leave. But something hissed at her to stay, to at least see what was going to happen. It was easy enough to find a service ladder leading to the top of the building, perfect knowledge of her bugs' locations guiding her where streetlights failed her. She knelt in litter and cigarette butts, hidden from view by a cement wall around the edge of the roof. She had to strain to hear, but his deep booming voice carried easily.
"Just shoot them," he rumbled, "The children. Doesn't matter your aim. We give them no chances. Shoot the bitch twice if you have to."
The ice in her chest dropped to her stomach.
Children, she thought incredulously. It echoed in her head. For the first time that night she cursed that her foresight had failed to include a burner phone, old memories and pain staying her hand. All the epipens in the world wouldn't help her here. Her swarm writhed even as she stilled.
She still wanted to leave. The rational part of her begged and pleaded, but there was another, louder part that told her to stay. Why had she set out tonight? She wanted to be a
Hero, to help people. How could she ever wear this mask again if she let this continue?
She steeled herself, despite her misgivings. Her swarm gathered, flying bugs carrying the more useful insects and spiders while the rest made their way as fast as they could. This was foolishness, she knew. Lung was powerful, and the longer they fought the stronger, tougher, and larger he would grow.
Despite that, her swarm descended.
Despite herself, she sealed her fate.
—
Yang whooped as she flung herself over the side of the cliff, wind whipping away her father's frustrated shout to at least
be careful. For just a moment she exulted in the sensation of freefall, of the wind in her hair, of the pure freedom at hand, before she swung herself right side up. Yellow gauntlets unfolded around her arms, and fire sprang from them with a loud roar, the force sufficient to send her flying nearly horizontal from her previous course.
As she soared into the canopy of one of the island of Patch's many forests, gunshots from her gauntlets slowed her fall enough that she could grab a thick branch and swing herself to a kneel atop it. She scanned the forest below, ignoring the small critters and birds that her sudden intrusion had scattered. She may be having fun, but she had a purpose here today.
A pack of Grimm had been sighted harrying civilians, and the duty of hunting them had fallen to her father, Taiyang. All reports had said they were relatively young Beowolves, too young for even their armor to have come in. So, he'd come to her and her sister and told them they were gonna get a taste of what it
really meant to be a Huntress.
Ruby had been so mad to learn that meant camping. Yang was excited that she'd finally get to fight the monsters that harried her home outside of carefully monitored training scenarios. She cracked her neck as she spied a small line of tracks on the forest floor. That was why she'd split off; she could be trusted to handle fledgelings like this, and the challenge excited her.
"Alright," she said to herself as she fell to the forest floor, the impact barely fazing her beyond a brilliant yellow ripple just around her legs, "Where are you at? I just wanna talk."
Grimm were nothing like a normal animal, her classes had taught. No need for food, no need for sleep. Not even any vital organs to target in a fight. They were the perfect killing machines, capable of hunting humans simply by following their negative feelings. But… you could still track them.
She observed the imprints in the dried mud.
The rain last night really was worth it, she thought to herself as she followed the tracks at a steady pace. Enough for a small pack, though they overlapped in enough places she couldn't get a good read on their numbers.
"Not like they have any chance against me," she said with a light grin. Her easy pace broke into a light jog as the trees cleared out, leading her to a wide open clearing. Grass swayed gently in a breeze, and colorful native flowers peppered a gentle hill that hid the opposite side of the clearing from her. But none of that earned her attention.
The tracks separated and disappeared down several different paths.
"Shit!" She cursed. Not smart enough to hide their tracks, but apparently smart enough to split up. It was impossible to tell which path to take for the best reward; it was entirely possible it was all a ruse to lure in unsuspecting fools. There'd been no reports they had an elder in the pack, but it wasn't impossible it had gotten lost in the confusion.
She strode forward, racking her mind for what to do. The smart thing would be to call her Dad; her scroll
should have enough reception to at least get him a message. He'd know what to do in a situation like this. But that would be tantamount to admitting she wasn't ready yet, in her mind. She couldn't do that.
The ground beneath her rolled, enough that she stumbled back. She spun, hands up in a rough boxing guard.
"Show yourself!" she shouted. Even though she knew it was pointless to taunt Grimm, it still made her feel better.
Her stomach dropped when the ground rolled again. The hill before her shifted and moved, and for a moment she thought it was looking at her through a single baleful red eye, hidden deep in the grass. When it moved again, shambling to stand several times her height on four shaggy legs thick as tree trunks, she realized it
was staring at her.
Old growth fell from massive armored bulk, grass and roots falling away from mighty white tusks and a thick furred form. Four red eyes revealed themselves, two on each side of a head nearly as large as she was.
A Goliath. She'd only seen pictures. No one had ever expected that a Grimm like
that was lurking in a sleepy place like Patch. She swallowed thickly, a shaky smile on her face, her knuckles white as her fists tightened in their guard.
She could take it.
Right?
—
Taylor scrambled back. Her swarm had done a wonderful job of handling the rank and file gang members; turns out the average human was ill equipped to handle a sudden storm of stinging wasps, biting ants, and venomous spiders. Several had fled, and she couldn't blame them. Many more were writhing in pain from more stings and bites than any one person had likely ever experienced, and bugs threatened to suffocate them if they dared to move anyway.
But that did little more than annoy Lung. He tensed as the first bugs landed on him, struggling to bite through his flesh even now. Fire carved swathes through dark clouds of insects, and she was glad that the deaths were a mere winking out of data points. Still, he hadn't noticed her yet. Something she was keen to capitalize on.
Her swarm focused on him. Wasps dropped spiders onto him, then attacked any sensitive areas they could find. Spiders crawled into the folds of his jeans, onto parts of his body he couldn't easily reach, ready to dump their entire payload of venom at a moment's notice. Even useless bugs, bugs without bites that could be felt or stings that could hurt, dove in and harried him, flying into his eyes and trying to find a way up his nose.
But his healing was keeping pace. She chanced a peek over the edge, and she found that he had already grown several feet, and put on a commensurate several dozen pounds of muscle. His fingers curled into claws, armor plating pushing out of his skin, and his face contorting into something inhuman.
She was reminded that he was called the Dragon of Kyushu for a very good reason.
A sudden burst of fire cleared out the immediate space around him, and the sudden heat and pressure wave drew a gasp from her, snapping her back into the moment, even as she parsed how many of her bugs, bugs she'd spent the entire night gathering, died in a single moment.
She felt Lung swing around through the bugs that still clung to him, insulated from the blast by his own form. Had he heard her? She'd never heard that he got enhanced senses as part of his buildup! She redoubled her assault, and began hunting for an escape route. She'd have to hope that she'd caused enough noise and chaos that
someone had called for help.
There was a roar. Lung jumped, clearing two stories in mere moments. Fire trailed from his claws as he landed heavily, shaking the roof badly enough that she thought it would collapse. Bugs died by the drove in the haze of intense heat that surrounded the once-man, and she desperately ordered all her spiders to bite and keep biting, to dump everything they had into his system in some kind of vain hope that it would help at all.
She scrambled in her pouch, pulling a canister of pepper spray from its confines. It wasn't much, but it was something. Her first shot went wide, erupting into a short lived fireball as it approached the boiling hot dragon before her. Her second shot was true, and even though it too ignited, Lung still screamed in pain as the actual payload assaulted him.
It was a short-lived reprieve.
"Mu'fucker!" He growled through swiftly changing mouthparts, slurred and rough. Her swarm redoubled its assault, though her current position meant that only her fliers were able to make it to her. Some picked up what spiders remained alive, a paltry sum of black widows and other less venomous examples.
Only a few made it, either depositing their cargo or dive bombing his eyes, mouth, and nose. The rest died in a new surge of flame, an arc that soared just over her head as she ducked desperately. The acrid stench of burned hair barely registered as she desperately fell backward away from the monster before her.
He stumbled for a moment, growling as his form rippled before he shot up several more feet in height. Fire collected in his hands, hot enough that it seared her eyes behind her hastily put together goggles.
No words had to be exchanged. He knew it. She knew it. Her stomach dropped out. Something indescribable gnawed at her, deeper than she'd ever felt before. Twin walls of fire erupted, blocking her in. Blocking her in with someone well outside her weight class.
She realized suddenly that no help was coming.
No one had heard her.
—
The blonde Huntress skidded back, her arms crossed across her face. Yellow energy flickered from the aftermath of the blow that had sent her flying. As she slid, she fired shot after shot from her gauntlets, the burning Dust rounds leaving pockmarks in the white armor that shielded her opponent. Stray shots set the grass and roots that still clung to its back ablaze, but it merely huffed, its massive trunk flicking dismissively.
"Okay…" she muttered, "Keep hitting me bastard, let's see how you like it!"
She kicked off, firing a shot off behind her. The sudden velocity let her cover the distance in a single rush, and she fell to her knees in another slide, peppering the underside of the beast with shots as she went. As soon as she was out the other side, she spun to her feet, her momentum still with her.
Only for the Goliath to turn far faster than she had expected. She barely got her arm up to cover her side before one of its tusks took her, knocking her away and into a painful roll across the grass. She hissed as she slammed into the thick base of a tree. Her Aura took most of the punishment, but being thrown around like a ragdoll
always hurt. She took small comfort in the well of power she could feel burning at the base of her stomach.
She struggled to her feet. But the beast seemed insistent on not giving her space to breathe.
It charged. Massive legs thundered into the ground. Tremors nearly knocked her legs out from under her. Tremors greater than just a running beast, no matter how massive, should create.
The ground below their feet shattered. Neither she nor the Grimm expected it, if she judged the sudden bellow correctly. They both fell, plummeting for several seconds until, with a deafening crash of stone, they stopped. Dust choked the air and hid their surroundings from sight and hid each other from view.
She panted harshly, greedily drawing air into her lungs from where she lay flat on her chest. Her Aura was intact, if barely. The pit of borrowed power roiled angrily, hotter than she'd ever felt it. She groaned as the dust dissipated and she levered herself back up to her knees. Light filtered into what had once been an underground cavern, and was now just a hole in the earth.
She watched the rubble shift. Her enemy still wasn't
dead. It lumbered to its feet and shook its shaggy head, loosening chunks of rock and dirt from where they'd lodged themselves. She checked her pocket where she left her scroll. If there was ever a time to call her family, it was now.
Her hand came back with the shattered remnants of her scroll, little more than metal and plastic fragments now.
"Fuck," she said softly. Four red eyes focused on her through the scattered dust. It would take her family ages to find her. Ruby was fast, but she wasn't 'comb the entire forest in a few seconds' fast. Dad was a good tracker, but most of her journey had been in the air. She hadn't left any tracks until she'd found the Beowolf tracks.
Her only hope was that he happened on those same tracks.
But it was a slim one. The Goliath, wounded as it was, lumbered forward. Like every Grimm, it had only one goal: to kill any person stupid enough to get in its way. Today, that was her.
She had one last go left in her.
She wouldn't go out without a fight.
—
In one world, a nascent Hero faced certain death. She'd done little more than stall her opponent, and now he was taking his sweet time with her. Lung stalked forward between curtains of white hot flame, equally hot fire curling cruelly in his grasp. She panted behind her mask, adrenaline and the sheer heat combining to make it nearly impossible for her to catch her breath.
"You fucked up, little boy," he growled. The menace of his speech wasn't dimmed an inch by his careful enunciation, and she couldn't muster an iota of offense at the mistaken gender.
"You'll die
slow. An
example."
Her swarm was gone, reduced to useless gnats and cockroaches. She was out of tricks.
She was out of time.
Her heart thundered in her chest as time seemed to stretch out. She'd heard about this, your life flashing before your eyes in the moment before your death. But there was nothing. No memories, no light, no reunions.
Just cold certainty. She was going to die.
—
In another world, a young Huntress gave everything she had. A massive black and white mammoth charged her, and she leapt into the fray with as much ferocity as she could muster. Her fist was cocked back, her hair a brilliant golden blaze, her eyes an angry red to match her foe's. Every ounce of power she'd taken, focused into one last mighty blow.
A blow not meant to be.
Elder Grimm were smart, smarter than their appearances would tell.
It ducked. Just enough that her fist glanced off its armored head instead of landing dead on. The might behind the blow still blew the entire armor piece into tiny chunks, but it was enough.
It reared up on its hind legs, catching her around the midsection with the hook of its tusks. The blow was hard, the worst she'd taken yet. She went flying, winded for the second time in as many minutes. She couldn't even scream in pain as she landed roughly on her back, only the last vestiges of her Aura shattering around her saving her from serious injury.
She leaned up as best she could, her vision blurry and her breath short. The Goliath turned, lumbering slowly towards her. The wisps of darkness leaking from its head were cold comfort; she'd only hurt it. That was never enough with Grimm.
She tried to push herself up, barely managing to get to her knees once again. They shook as she pushed even harder, stumbling to a stand.
If she was going to die, she was going to do it standing up, her fists up and a smile on her face.
The Goliath charged her once again. Adrenaline, not yet flushed through her system, thundered through her heart once again. Every step the monster took felt like an eternity.
All Yang had left was one truth.
She was going to die.
—
Their souls screamed
no. They refused to go quietly, they refused to be snuffed out.
A single spark of long dormant power flared to life deep within their chests, deeper than anything they'd ever felt. It suffused every inch of their beings, and burned with such intensity that they felt they would explode. It had nowhere to go.
They had
everywhere to go.
Reality shattered around them, and they fell into a space-that-wasn't.
Part 1
Moonsilver
--------
I really just can't help myself. As usual, if you like what I do, please consider checking out my
Patreon
(I promise TWNY isn't canceled, just in the middle of some kind of block on it that I'm working through)
