"It appears that three groups were able to receive Oracle's cry for help. Firstly; Clockblocker. We believe the aforementioned item given to him by Pretender was responsible in some way for him being able to hear it." As if to remind the listening heroes an image of the bearded unicorn pendant flashed up. "He chose not to answer; instead immediately activating the appropriate Master Protocols. The second group was a group of local mercenaries."
Armsmaster showed images from the video; Faultline, Gregor and Newter, "They may have been contacted through mundane means but we suspect otherwise given they were equipped with items that clearly originated from the same source as Pretender and Oracle's. They also arrived with a certain sense of… urgency."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
As Hookwolf's twisted metallic form flew through the air and shifted shape into something that wouldn't take the landing too badly he couldn't help but think that maybe he should have brought more Capes. He'd assumed two more would be enough to deal with just the one. That had been stupid of him. If the scumsucker could draw all of those rats to them then he'd definitely be able to make alliances with other inferior rejects like that dog bitch and these idiots.
His writhing metallic shards scraped the ground and pulled him upright; metallic muzzle forming as he took on a mostly bipedal shape. This group he knew, more or less, and he was pleased to see the fire one wasn't with them; she might have actually been able to hurt him. Still, three capes to two wasn't a fight he wanted to get into; especially with Crusader downed by whatever was inside.
The fat one one and the slimy freak were already working as well; one spraying clear slime at the feet of his men and sticking them in place while the other darted about and flicked people with his hands and tail. Any guy he got to dropped in moments.
There was another nasty surprise when one of the ones who still had a firebomb at hand managed to hit their leader with it. Managed was a bit of a strong word; she hadn't even tried to dodge; instead charging forward with an extendable baton at hand and reaching for the flying bottle. It had shattered and then exploded against her fingertips but she'd come right through the flame without missing a beat.
That was new.
It was time, he thought, to regroup. Not retreat. Oh no. He'd go and grab Cricket and Rune and come back to smash this place to the ground. They couldn't stop him from leaving if he wanted to. The fatass tried to slime him but his whirling blades ripped the hardening gunk apart and that lizard brat didn't even dare to close the distance. Carefully, Hookwolf bent down and picked up Crusader; looking to Stormtiger and shouting in a voice like a chainsaw.
"We're leaving! Keep the freaks off our backs!" His friend nodded and began to refocus; dodging the monster dogs and firing at the comparatively squishier newcomers. The thin one could dodge and Faultline had to cover behind a vehicle but a cutting wind managed to strike the big one and took him down in a spray of blood. Hookwolf smirked inwardly and began to jog off with his remaining men.
And
then, with a tremendous crash, something smashed into the road in front of him. Just like that, Hookwolf's day went from
worse to
worst.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"However, it is the final individual who presented themselves at the fight that is the greatest cause for concern. While we believe she is herself not in any way contaminated, the fact that she admitted to going to join the fight in response to a call from her
sister…" Gallant shifted uncomfortably in his seat and stared at the floor rather than look at the image on the screen. Nobody would blame him.
"Makes this entire incident even more troubling on multiple levels. Although the outcome was arguably a net positive for us the implications of one individual having connections to so many powerful individuals within the Bay, and the ability to deploy them in their defense, are staggering." There, on the screen, was a short clip playing on repeat. Glory Girl dropping out of the sky, shattering the ground, and then ramming head first into Hookwolf; sending him flying through the air.
In many ways it was glorious to behold. But the image of Panacea on the other side, caught mid-work with her new helmet on, rather chilled the glee one might feel at seeing the neo-Nazi receive his comeuppance.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
As soon as Hookwolf landed, and didn't immediately get back up, Gregor was already covering him in a thick, semi-clear adhesive. The man had clearly only been dazed for a few moments; rising again and trying to rip himself free of the goo. But it allowed him to be slowed long enough for a high boot to slam down through the 'head' of his bladed werewolf form.
She was hit in the back by a blade of air seconds later but didn't even flinch; instead shooting across the road to hit the unfortunate Stormtiger with a flying lariat that saw him spin several times before landing and going still. Gregor felt that was probably a little too much force even for a neo-Nazi, but it wasn't his place to comment.
Hookwolf was still going, however, despite his 'head' being mangled by that flying kick. He was already rising out of the small crater formed by his heavy landing when the doors to the church opened and two figures came out. One was fairly familiar; purple helmet, cloak, boots, and glimmering armour. The other less so; floating a few inches above the ground and wearing a black cloak that seemed to move as if it were underwater.
Pretender swung her staff at Hookwolf and there was a flash of blue light as frost formed on the surface of his blades. He twitched and tried to shift to a quadrupedal form; horned wolf head starting to take shape when Gregor began to spray him again. Another swing of the staff and another flash of blue light; it was prematurely solidifying the adhesive as well, increasing its effectiveness, and the following rush was slower than it would have otherwise been.
The black-robed figure floated ahead to intercept but it proved unnecessary as Glory Girl once again sideswiped Hookwolf; although the phrasing was somewhat inaccurate, mused Gregor, when one was dropping down from above. It looked like she'd snapped his metallic 'spine' from the impact and he certainly seemed stunned but moments later he tore into a whirling frenzy of blades that had no effect on the hero as she'd already lifted out of his reach.
There was yet another flash of blue light and he began to twitch violently. A few more hesitant steps were taken as he tried to pull himself back into a recognizable form once more but the blades were moving more slowly now. Gregor stepped up and let loose one last volley; emptying his reserve in the process. The warm liquid steamed on contact with the cold metal and, at last, Hookwolf collapsed into a shrinking pile of sharp edges.
Finally, the fat man allowed himself to sit down and look at his chest. The cut wasn't too bad; he'd sealed it to stop the bleeding but it would probably need a few stitches. Nothing life threatening, though. That was good. Faultline crawled out of cover and grumbled to herself. She probably should have gone with Elle instead of Spitfire but she'd felt it was best if she was with the rescue team.
They'd stopped, very briefly, to let Elle and Emily out; an invisible voice guiding them to the group of invisible evacuees that they were tasked with protecting. Then the three of them had hurried over directly. It seemed like Pretender had been holding her own, though.
He saw his boss and Glory Girl both approach the girl in question, who seemed to be giving curt, gruff responses that were quite unlike her. The tone was thankful though. That was good. It was nice that she appreciated them.
WIth a deep sigh he pulled himself back to his feet and began to wander over to check up on the mundane gang members. As much as he disliked them it wouldn't do to let any bleed out from unseen injuries. There were a number of bite marks that looked quite unpleasant.
The monster dogs responsible had stopped fighting when they'd arrived; now they were milling around in a confused sort of way. They backed off when he approached but otherwise seemed to vaguely be standing guard but also not. Lost beasts without direction.
He supposed that was somewhat poetic, wasn't it.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Vicky hadn't known what to think when Amy had called her and begged,
begged, for her to go and help Pretender. She hadn't particularly liked the weird girl who was selling them stuff; something about the mask they wore really rubbed her the wrong way. But her sister had sounded really desperate and she knew that helmet had been really helpful to her. Ever since she'd gotten it she'd just seemed… happier.
Plus she'd got to punch a Nazi really hard so that was pretty cool. There was some fat guy throwing up on people but it seemed to be his power so whatever. She floated over to Pretender and waved as she approached.
"Yo. Ames sent me to give you a hand. How's it going?" There was some other weird guy hovering around as well; she couldn't see their face through the creepy black robe but she thought they might have looked at her. Pretender definitely did, she could tell that more easily even with the helmet, but for some reason the girl seemed kind of nervous.
"Someone's hurt. Can you take them to Panacea?" Glory Girl sighed, rolling her eyes. Her sister hadn't said that Pretender was quite this… antisocial. Like yeah, sure, big emergency and all but would it kill her to say hello? And maybe 'thanks'?
"Yeah, sure, no problem, whatever." She floated behind Pretender and grumbled internally all the while. Not even a reaction to that? Geez. It'd be kinda rude to pulse her aura here but she sorta felt like doing it anyway.
The anger all drained away when she saw the tall, black-haired girl inside bleeding from her eyes, nose and ears. Vicky saw the girl's gaze shift; flickering to look at her as she twitched gently on the ground. "What the fuck! She needs an
ambulance, I can't move her like this!" Then there was an awful hissing noise from the floating black figure and she spun to face it.
"The Healer must see her quickly. This we say." The voice was just the
worst. It was a rasping, crackling hiss that sounded like someone had hooked up a broken microphone to a malfunctioning speaker. Just hearing them talk made Vicky's skin crawl.
"No way, I'm not touching he-" At her belt Glory Girl felt a buzzing. Frowning, she fished out her phone and answered the incoming call from her sister. "Hey, Ames, it's all good here; but someone's hurt and they want me t-"
"Yes, I know. I'm on top of the hospital now, come get me and
don't move her." That was… weird, but Vicky shrugged and took off; leaving creepy robe and Pretender to watch the girl as she went to grab her sister. Maybe whoever'd called her in the first place had done so again? Whatever.
Leaving the hospital was unusual for Amy, though. She'd better hurry. Once Vicky was high enough she pushed herself to full speed and exploded across the sky of Brockton Bay; zeroing in on the hospital where her sister usually worked. There was the figure in white, with the brand new yet ever-present helmet, waving at her as she came in for a landing.
"Took you long enough. Come on, let's get going." Not even a 'hello'. Or a 'thank you' for going to help in the first place. Whatever… she'd got to slap some people around real good without being told off, for once, so that made up for it. Vicky picked up her sister and accelerated away again; more slowly than she usually would because of her passenger. She could feel Amy's tension as she held her up and tried to soothe her as best she could.
When they landed at the church things looked… different. Nothing was on fire any more, Hookwolf was covered in even more goop and a lot of people had shown up. Mostly looked like young Latino men. They were picking up the prone Nazis and carrying them to one side without bothering to tie them up… yet none of them were moving. No sign of police yet, though… that was weird…
"Boo!" Pretender was waiting for them outside but was startled when Vicky landed right beside her, snickering at the girl's fright. Amy didn't even bitch at her for it; instead running straight inside. Boring, but with nothing
else to do and the masked girl not seeming very talkative at all she decided to follow.
The brown-haired girl was surrounded by more people. Dozens, even, but all of them giving her lots of space and looking worried. Her sister had already crouched down and put a hand to the girl's head. At first her expression was bleak, more so than Vicky had ever seen before, but relief quickly overtook it.
"She'll be fine. There's no permanent brain damage…" Amy's shoulders sagged as she relaxed and a grateful murmur went up amongst the watchers. The black-cloaked… man? Woman? Person. The black-cloaked person floated into view and Vicky couldn't have told anyone where they had been moments ago.
"We thank you Healer. You and yours must depart now." Now
that pissed her off. The crowd recoiled from her as she stepped forward and got up in the jerk's face.
"Hey, she saved your friend and you're just going to kick her out like that? Maybe you should be a little more gratefu-" She stopped mid-sentence as her attempt to grab their cloak only for her hand to pass through it like it wasn't even there. There was only a faint chill on her fingertips to show for it.
"Victoria." Her sister had stood up and was giving her a stern look. Now, when she looked around, she noticed that the watching crowd looked like they were on the verge of lynching her; hero or no hero, aura or no aura. "Oracle is right. We should go before the authorities arrive." Amy walked out; leaving Vicky to awkwardly follow behind her.
"Pretender… thank you for the helmet." As soon as she got outside Amy had addressed the quiet girl; who didn't really respond. It was funny… until it had been mentioned Vicky had pretty much forgotten about the helmet. "It's been really helpful. Feel free to call me again if something happens." Ames looked back at her expectantly but she stayed silent until her sister sighed and walked off. "Come on, Vicky. Let's go. Can you drop me off at the hospital?"
Glory Girl shot one parting dirty look at Pretender before sighing and offering her sister an arm.
"Yeah, sis. Whatever."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"After that the PRT arrived and took Hookwolf and Crusader into custody. Stormtiger escaped at some point during the proceedings; it's unclear when. A number of non-powered members were also arrested; a full list has been appended to the report, but it isn't relevant at this time." Saying that any data wasn't important was almost unlike Armsmaster but considering everything else they'd been told it did seem rather low-priority.
"Any questions?" That, it seemed, was that. A full rundown of events that raised almost as many questions as it answered. Nobody seemed to know quite where to start. After a few moments a hand raised; Triumph. Armsmaster nodded at him by way of acknowledgement.
"So are you saying that Panacea, Clockblocker, and who knows who else have all been Mastered?" That was probably the foremost question on everyone's minds. The first two were arguably the most dangerous Strikers in the city and anyone who'd studied their Parahuman history would have nightmares about what could happen if they were influenced by a malevolent power. Really, Panacea alone was terrifying enough.
"That is unclear at this time." Armsmaster appeared oddly uncomfortable with his answer, which meant that everyone else was incredibly concerned, but thankfully he didn't leave it there. "After reviewing Clockblocker's interview footage and the recording of the phone interview conducted with Panacea I can say that whatever effect there might be appears to be extremely weak."
He raised a hand slightly and twisted his wrist; whatever augmented reality control system he used causing the screen behind him to switch to showing an awful lot of text. "This is a copy of the report I made on the subject; Appendix 'M1' in your packet." Some people tried reading from the screen, others began rustling through their rather heavy pile of papers. "To summarise…"
Another gesture and parts were highlighted, other parts blacked out. They all had the full copy in any case. "Clockblocker reported hearing only two words clearly; 'Attend me'. After that he stated he had a," and here there was a clear distaste for the words used, "'Odd feeling'. Originally I described it as a compulsion but I have since revised my opinions. He had no difficulty resisting the feeling, nor was he prevented from reporting it to us." Which, to his credit, Clockblocker had done immediately.
"The desire was clearly and obviously external to him. Or, in his words, it was like he knew what they wanted him to do but didn't feel like he had to do it." Which had included, interestingly enough, a distinct awareness of where he was wanted as well. Panacea had been rather evasive when questioned but had asserted something similar.
"He has been examined by every Thinker we can get our hands on, and they all say he's clean. No lingering influence. It is, however, worth noting that both individuals we can definitively say experienced the phenomenon had reasons to be extremely grateful to Pretender." As clearly noted in Appendix M1-2 and M1-3, according to the note on screen.
"Be that as it may, sir… what are we meant to do now?" Initially, Armsmaster considered chastising Aegis for calling out. He didn't follow through. For a time he didn't say anything at all. Then he sighed; a remarkably human response for someone who many of those present would swear had cast aside all such things long ago.
"Currently, we are to do nothing. If you come in contact with Pretender or Oracle you are not to engage with them in any way. Vacate the area as quickly and peacefully as possible. Any further actions are out of our hands; the buck has been passed up and the word that's come down is to wait." Everyone could see how much those instructions galled him. It was in the sharp, clear tone, the barely clenched fists. Most of them felt the same way.
A hand raised. Gallant; Dean Stansfield in his civilian guise. Nobody was surprised when he asked the question.
"What about New Wave?" Given he was known to be in an inconsistent relationship with Glory Girl and would frequently see her and her sister it was a valid query. Armsmaster just wished he had a better answer.
"We have asked New Wave to stop doing business with Pretender due to an ongoing investigation. Other than that… the details aren't something we can discuss with them. Will that be a problem, Gallant?" Under the laser-like stare of his superior officer the young hero wilted.
"... no, sir. It won't." With as unconvincing a response as that it was likely they were going to need to discuss that matter further. That, however, was a concern for another time. This meeting had dragged on long enough.
"If there are any further questions regarding the content of the briefing consult your packets, and then contact me in writing. Dismissed!"
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Taylor's head was still burning. Everything was…
wrong. She'd broken something. Some unspoken rule that she'd thought she could stretch because of who she was. Because of
what she was. Her memories, the ones that weren't hers at all, were full of things like that. Forcing a solution that wasn't even close to the 'correct' method with sheer might. It had always worked, then.
This time it had nearly killed her. Panacea had silently informed her that her whole body had been on the verge of total cell death. She'd even said that she had never seen anything like it before; that, at least, had been something. Taylor was nothing if not
unique.
She remembered something like that. People who tried to overreach like that, who tried to do too much with too little… they died. No matter how hale or hearty they looked, no matter what levels of injury they did or didn't have, they could still go from 'fully alive' to 'fully dead' in an instant. It was unusual for a… for someone working alone. Usually it was a problem for… for groups.
Her head was not just burning. It felt like it was full of cotton. Once Panacea had left she'd had the… the girl, her name… Taylor had her and Alejandro carry her to her office while the Servant dressed as Oracle followed behind. Nobody had said anything but… she knew that he knew. That they knew. All of them.
They'd seen through the illusion, now. Their God had laid before them; broken and bleeding. Yet… it hadn't shattered their faith, like she'd expected. That was the strange thing. Until now she'd kept herself hidden from even them. Smoke and mirrors. Yet seeing her like that… weak and vulnerable...
None of them had said anything. Nobody had left. If anything the little lights of their faith were shining all the brighter for it. She didn't understand. Taylor didn't understand. She didn't…
That was then. This was now.
The girl was torn asunder.
Taylor was sitting at home; centred in herself. Several weeks ago she'd broken down here, in her room, and she'd cried. Images had entered into her head. The past, the future, the present. She'd
seen the future. Except she hadn't. That had been the future. She'd been in the future and the past and the present all at once. Cut adrift.
Clockblocker had been killed in an explosive blast. Except he hadn't. Her Church had been attacked by Hookwolf and Stormtiger and Crusader and dozens of her worshippers had died. Except they hadn't. She'd seen it and done it and been it all at once.
Now she was here. Now she knew. Those past few weeks she'd been doing things because she'd done them. Existing in the future and the past and the present all at once. Even that thought, now, made her head throb.
But now she was here.
"May. It is the Twelfth of May. It is the evening. My name is Taylor Hebert. My father is Daniel Hebert. My mother was Annette Hebert. I was born on Earth. I am…" There was a moment where she had to grasp at her own mind, to force concentration on the here and now. "I am fifteen years old." Yet even as she said that part of her mind told her that it was impossible.
Her father was at the door. She could see him. Feel him. Other things were hazy. Her other followers were still there, still lights in the back of her mind, but her powers were weak. Panacea had been able to heal her body but not her brain; yet she'd said, with confusion and relief in equal measure, that the damage was reversing itself.
Taylor had already resolved to do several things after that incident. One of those things was to never again try and break the rules her memories fed to her. The other was…
She
wasn't downstairs. Although she could have been there quickly, or already even, she wasn't. Because standing up was important. Walking to the door was important. Heading downstairs to greet him was important. Meeting Diego, experiencing worship and being forced to not only face what had happened but
remember it had… for lack of a better word, disoriented her.
The last few weeks had been spent lost in a sea of cause and effect. There was a reason she'd kept a tight leash on that ability in the past; no matter how effective it might have been. Wallowing in potential futures made it easy to drown in maybes. And just the fact that she had that thought at all showed why she needed to ground herself. Which made this the most important thing she'd resolved to do.
"Dad?" He turned to look at her with a smile that quickly turned to shock. Although she'd cleaned up all the blood, taken a shower and changed Taylor knew that she still looked awful. He'd rushed over to her; dropping the groceries by the door. Nothing breakable in them, luckily. Well, she'd already known that.
"Taylor! You look awful… are you sick? Do you have a fever?" Danny pressed a hand to her forehead and frowned. It was cool and rough and felt so very real. So familiar. That sensation was one hundred percent Taylor's because she was the only one who remembered it.
"No… not exactly… but I need to tell you something." Saying it that way was probably a mistake because a father's mind could go a lot of places very quickly. Thankfully, he didn't voice any of his fears out loud; just nodded.
"Okay. But let's sit down first, alright? I'll make us some hot chocolates." She allowed them to move to the kitchen and sit down. Let him heat up some milk and get the powder out. Didn't try to stop him burning his thumb a little. Taylor just stayed there, in her seat, and waited for her father to join her with steaming mug in hand.
"Thank you." She took hers and sipped it straight away. He looked like he'd been about to say something but when she didn't jump Danny frowned and checked his. It was still too hot for him, but she hadn't taken her ring off. Mere hot milk couldn't hope to hurt her. Maybe she should have let it, though.
"... you remember the incident." It wasn't a question and he didn't answer; merely nodded slowly with eyes full of concern. She continued. "What was I like? When they found me?" Danny frowned and stayed silent for a time; still holding his mug and staring at her.
"You were…" He sounded hesitant. "Confused. You couldn't talk properly. Kept… babbling. They thought you might have… been on something." There were things still unsaid there, but she let them lie. She could have guessed but didn't really see any point, now. "They had to sedate you. When you woke up you were your regular self."
Taylor hadn't remembered any of that, but it… fit. With the shape of what she thought her memories might look like. They hadn't spoken about the incident much. Not then, nor since. She hadn't wanted to and her father hadn't pried. Maybe he should have. Or maybe she should have.
"I triggered. In the locker. I've got powers." To his credit he didn't freak out. Didn't ask any questions. He nodded.
"Thank you for telling me." That hadn't been the reaction she'd expected at all.
"... you knew?" And he nodded again. That was… actually a bigger blow to her ego than anything else today. "How?" He chuckled and shook his head at her. Then he started counting on his fingers.
"Really? Taylor… I've had to turn shower temperature down from 'searing' every day for weeks now." Oh. Well, she didn't really make it a habit to take off the flame ring since she'd made it…"You go running in the rain without an umbrella and come home dry." Guh… she'd realised that the amulet seemed to count 'rain' as one of the missiles it would try and deflect. "You haven't called me to ask if I'm working late
once since then, and when you cook dinner is always being served as soon as I come home." Uh. Well, she could always see him so it wasn't hard to do…
"I did a really bad job of hiding it, didn't I?" Danny held up his hand and just gave her a look that left Taylor red-faced and unable to meet his gaze. It was really nice, actually. The moment felt like something definitively
hers.
"You could say that. I thought you'd tell me about it when you were ready. Hopefully before you did anything rash?" And now she was even less able to look him in the eyes because, well... it was pretty obvious what had happened. The worst bit about her powers was that even when she wasn't looking at him she could see the disappointment in his face.
"Okay. Okay. Alright. Is that why you look so…?" He groped for the right words and trailed off when they failed to come.
"... yes. There's more, though. There's… so many things I have to tell you about. Some of them are crazy. Really, really crazy. But I swear, I'm not… unstable." She took a deep breath; trying to steel herself for what she had to start with. "And I guess the best place to start is with the most unbelievable part, and go from there. So… here goes…" He'd put down his drink and was waiting for whatever horrible revelation she was obviously going to lay down. Taylor was pretty sure, though, that there was no way he could expect what she was saying next.
"... I'm pretty sure that I'm a god now."
