You know out of all the things you could ask for at this moment, the biggest one is a new power. Controlling gravity is amazing, but it's not going to do much here. And if your power can't help you, then you're on your own.
You could make speech after speech, but you've got to face facts.
You're no genius.
All you know about science is half-remembered facts that you picked up from high school.
Because the fact that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell is really going to help you here.
At most all you'll be able to do in the lab is slow people down.
And given how… intense David and Manton can get when they're working, that probably isn't the best idea. Plus, if Charles is in the mix, then you're bound to make things go sideways fast.
And legislation…
Yeah… no.
If Clint thought something was needlessly complicated than it was... but what you wouldn't give to know what he knows right now. He'd be able to fix up something perfect for this situation.
And an better upside, if you knew what he knows, you wouldn't be left with agreeing with Doctor Mother.
You watch as Rebecca and Doctor Mother step into the elevator. As the doors close, Rebecca gives you a small smile, waving as the doors finally seal themselves shut. As they click together, Contessa takes her hand away from her ear. She leans against the wall and tips up the edge of her hat as she regards you.
She makes a show of raising an eyebrow, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out the message behind it.
You coming?
You ring your hands together as you force yourself to look at the other parts of the room. Seeing the broken concrete, shattered wood and broken glass, the only thing that comes to mind is the fact that you really should probably clean this place.
Risking a peek, Contessa hasn't moved an inch. It didn't take much, you just needed to watch her work and help. The woman that has Doctor Mother's complete trust.
The woman that made everything caused everything that happened today.
It was manipulative, but you don't know if you should be mad or thanking her. In the end, she's making you, everything, better.
Gritting your teeth for a moment, you let out a defeated sigh.
Again, there's no reaction.
"You're supposed to…. convince me?" you ask.
Contessa gives you the most disinterested look you think is humanly possible, and she shakes her head.
"I am here to get those that would allow us to properly complete the path that you issued."
That isn't what you asked, but at least she didn't dance around it like last time, small upsides.
"Then where are we headed?"
"Pennsylvania."
You blink.
Interesting place to pick.
But she is the one with the '
perfect path'.
You shiver.
God, you can't even think that without something happening.
"Ok, but how long's it going t-."
"Door me."
Contessa brings her hand down from her ear right as a doorway materializes next to her. You lean to the side, but you can't see anything. Contessa gives you little more than a passing glance before she steps inside.
And despite your last experience with these things, you make your way over and follow her through. Again, you're blinded by a flash of light as you head through. Blinking away the stars, the first thing that comes to you is the sight of cars.
Rows upon rows of cars, dozens of makes and models all lined up within white painted zones parked next to concrete walls. At the very end of the row, the concrete makes a small window looking out over a city. You look down at your feet, and sure enough, there's just as much trash as you'd expect.
Looking at it all, it's telling that the fact that you're standing in a parking garage is one of the most calming things you've done all day. Nothing's trying kill you.
Then, the first car on the rows lights flashes on as the engine whirring itself to life. A tinted window rolls down and you catch Contessa in the driver's seat. She holds up a black box with three buttons on it. She clicks one, and the car door pops open.
She doesn't even look at you, she just waits.
You mean, why wouldn't she just wait? She knows exactly what to do and when to do it. Why waste time implying something she doesn't have to?
You're starting to hate precogs.
Slowly, you walk over and open the door. You drop into the seat, making the suspension bend an inch as it compensates for your weight.
"Remember the glove compartment," Contessa says.
Well, it was more like she ordered you, but she said it with just a blank monotone that you can only ask.
"Why?"
"There's an ID within," she says, her monotone not shifting an inch.
"...Okay? Why do I need to know that?"
She doesn't answer, shifting the car into gear and gliding out of the parking spot. Her fingers go on auto pilot, flying across the gear shift and climate controls all without even glancing down. With a twitch of her wrist, she spins the wheel and slams her foot on the gas. You flinch at the sudden speed and grab the closest thing you can get your hands on.
The rows of cars fly by as you carine to the end of the parking garage. Contessa jerks the wheel to the right and does something with her feet. You can't see what it is, but you feel the car drift around the last car, the front of your ride's bumper barely grazing the unopened trunk. You swear you saw a spark before the car decides to continue on its merry way. It goes straight forward out the exit ramp of the garage and pulling into traffic so fast you hear someone screech to a stop and honk their horn.
Mercifully, Contessa didn't keep her foot pressed against the gas pedal as she moves through the three lanes of the street. You hear yourself gasp for breath and for the first time since you got into the car Contessa glances over.
"Relax, nothing was going to happen."
"You could have
warned me!"
"It would have wasted time."
You look at her, and she just stares straight ahead without a care in the world.
Shaking your head, relaxing isn't exactly something you want to do right now. But you've accidentally crushed things with a wave of your hand before.
Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea.
You risk another glance, and Contessa turns her head towards you, ignoring the fact that she was driving.
Fucking precogs.
You release your grip on the door guard, and it falls to pieces on the car floor. You try your best not to look at it, glancing out the window. Unfortunately, there's not much to see. A few skyscrapers in the distance, some small apartment buildings and the occasional corner store. Beyond that, it's just one car after the other.
"We will be on this road for another four hours and sixteen minutes," Contessa says.
"
Great," you groan.
"You are distraught," Contessa says.
If it was anyone else, you might have thought it was a question to try and guess your mood. But Contessa isn't normal. She's just stating fact because she can. You break away from the window watching to check if her expression had changed.
It hadn't.
"Did the Path tell you that?"
"Yes," she admits.
"So you're just pointing out the obvious for fun?"
Contessa takes her eyes off the road to give you a flat look.
"It didn't matter what I said, so long as I said something at all, the outcome would be the same."
She sounds so certain, there's no doubt or hesitation in anything she does.
It's more than a little disturbing to watch.
"And what outcome is that?" you ask quickly.
"You don't trust me," She says, her expression still frustratingly stiff, "My current persona is completely different from the one that you first encountered. Anything I say or do, combined with what happened earlier today, will simply make you think this is a deception to get you to trust me. Or part of a plan of Doctor Mother's, or just a general plan to manipulate you in some way."
"Can you blame me?" you ask.
"No," she admits.
"Then why the hell are we talking?" you ask, throwing your hands into the air before crashing back into your seat.
"Your plan involved those suffering from the mental trauma of their trigger events receiving therapeutic help. Doctor Mother was going to suggest that I be the one that takes up this role."
Contessa pauses to cranes her neck slightly, just so she can see your flat look.
"You would have disagreed," she explains.
"You didn't need powers to figure that out." You grumble.
"Would you rather I change the topic of conversation then? Perhaps to an apology for setting up the events that lead to your current state of mind?"
…
Okay, that was quick.
You blink through the whiplash. Contessa doesn't take her eyes off the road, and you take your gaze to where she isn't. The closest contender being the road in front of you.
"Are you just saying sorry because it's another step?"
You wait, and from the corner of your vision, you see her nod.
"So you want to apologize for making all of this happen, but you know I'm not going to trust anything you say?" you guess.
"Correct," she agrees.
"Then why did you bother offering?"
"Doctor Mother ordered it."
"And you just do everything that Doctor Mother says, right?" you ask.
It was meant to be a joke, you honestly didn't want her to nod.
"She gives the orders, I complete the Path that will lead us towards the fulfilment of those orders," she admits.
"You just let her control everything you do?" you ask, "How about when she doesn't give you an order? What do you do then?"
Contessa clicks the turn signal, turning the wheel and forcing the car onto the freeway. It glides perfectly into traffic and Contessa clicks on the cruise control.
"I wait," she says, finally.
You let a second pass, and when nothing comes you shrug your shoulders.
"So you just wait for one order after the other?"
"Correct,"
You feel your hand grip your armrest a little tighter.
"Do you not do anything else?"
"I assist Manton, Charlie, David and Rebecca when I am asked," She responds.
She stops, and you wait, but apparently, there's nothing to elaborate on. You run a hand down your face, trying to get everything straight in your head.
"Nothing else?" you ask, "You just do what someone says without even trying to stand up for yourself?"
"Sound familiar?"
You flinch, and the armrest starts to groan.
"That's not something I'm proud of."
"Which is why I removed it from you," Contessa comments.
She gives you a wayward glance, smirking as she does. The next thing you hear is the sound of plastic snapping. There goes the other door handle.
"If you're so proud of getting rid of it, have you ever tried doing it for yourself?" you ask.
"No," she says with a shake of her head.
"Why!?" you demand.
"I wasn't ordered to."
You stare at her, and honestly, some part of you is hoping it's just some joke. She'll throw on a fake smile, and say that it was fun, just like her stupid stunt when you got out of the parking garage.
But no, there's nothing like that. There's just… acceptance.
You watch as the Deputy Director of the most powerful organization in the world drives through highway traffic without a care in the world. She just follows orders, her power making her the perfect little tin soldier.
What's worse is that for the first time since you met her, the light is perfect. She's not hiding behind her hat, and you're not scared out of your mind as she presses a gun to your face, shaded in the darkness of your room as she tries to get you through the realization of what powers you had. She's just driving with a blank expression down the highway, with plenty of time for you to notice something about her.
She's…
young.
Younger than you, Rebecca, anyone else in Cauldron. She could carry herself like some kind of unfeeling machine, and that makes it easier to believe something else. But like this, she doesn't look a day over fifteen.
She doesn't look any older than Danah.
"Why not?"
The question is out before you can stop it. For some reason, you want her to stop and consider what to say next. To do something, anything, that's actually human.
And not some machine who lives for someone else.
But she doesn't.
"Because like you, I wanted to help as much as I could, and this is my place to ensure that."
"Did the Path tell you that, or did Doctor Mother?" You almost snarl.
"Does it matter?"
"Of course it does!" you shout, "Who the fuck cares what you should do! You deserve the chance to do what you want to do. Do you even care that you're being treated like a… like a…"
"Tool?" she offers.
"Yes!"
"What more do I need to be?" She asks.
You feel yourself take in a breath to shout again, but Contessa just has to look straight at you to freeze the action midway.
"I am not like you. When everything started off, all I had was the Path. So I used it, and I got my answers. I might be able to achieve anything that is physically possible for a human to do."
She pauses, only to turn the wheel and sneak between a semi and a truck.
"I can't change it," she continues, "Because it's all I can do, and anyone who thinks it through will never be able to trust me. Because everything I do is just another step on the Path. Tell me, where does someone like that belong in an organization that needs to trust itself above all else?"
She waits, and before you can even take a breath she shakes her head and slowly turns back to the road.
"And how can you say anything to dissuade me, when you'll question everything I just said?"
You flinch as it feels like something cold falls into your stomach and stays there. If you could stagger back, you would have. Instead you just stare at her.
So… this was the woman that Doctor Mother put all of her faith into? The reason that she's so confident in everything going her way?
"Can you at least answer one thing?" you ask.
Contessa's eyes twitch towards you for a second. Then, she slowly raises an eyebrow.
"...Was I ever talking to Contessa? Or have I just been talking to an… agent?"
Contessa turns her gaze back to the road and shook her head.
"You've always been talking to Contessa."
You shake your head.
"I meant the person, not the-."
"Contessa isn't the name I was given." The Director interrupts you, "It was the title I chose, the one that uses the Path to it's fullest potential."
She flips the signal and glances back at you.
"No, you've never spoken to me as my mother would remember."
She looks back, and her face goes back to it's stone cold marble. You shift in your seat, slumping into the rest as best as you can. Sneaking a peek out the window, there's nothing but trees on the outside of the highway and other cars near you.
...This is going to be a long trip, isn't it?
***
You groan as your eyes try to open. Every part of your body feels stiff, cramped, and totally misused.
You fell asleep alright.
Stretching your arms, you yawn awake and rub the sleep out of your eyes.
"We've arrived," you hear Contessa drone.
You blink the last few stars out of your eyes and just when you can finally see outside the car, you see a sign.
Warning - Danger
Underground Mine Fire.
Walking or Driving in this area could result in Serious Injury or Death.
Dangerous Gases are Present.
Ground is Prone to Sudden Collapse.
Suddenly you're not tired anymore.
Your head snaps to Contessa, but the Director keeps driving along the road like nothing is wrong. The car bumps like a bronco as it goes over the broken concrete and you reach for anything to grab onto.
Turns out, after your little episode with grabbing things, you've got nothing.
You're left sitting in your seat as Contessa drives along the tree-lined road. Soon, things start to pop up, like run down trailer houses surrounded by trees, followed by the most desolate main street you've ever seen in your life. It barely goes on for two blocks, with only a few old buildings lining each side. The only thing that seemed somewhat functional was the gas station at the very end of the road. Contessa slows the car down and pulls into the gas station. She puts it in park and points at the glove compartment.
"Don't forget your identification," she says.
With that, she clicks the door open and before stepping out, she sets a brick-sized phone that you didn't notice down on the dashboard. Looking in front of you, you shrug and open the compartment with a click. Inside, there's a single black leather wallet. You grab it just as Contessa opens your door from the outside. Shoving the ID in your pocket, you step out of the car and let Contessa slam the door behind you.
You look around, and surprisingly, you don't see anyone. The streets are as silent as the wind allowed, seemingly no one around except you and Contessa. Even the gas station didn't have anyone. You don't see anyone inside, just a sign on the door saying that the owner will be back sometime later to help someone out.
"Centralia," Contessa says, "The city was a mining town up until a fire broke out in 1962. To this day, it's still burning near the foundation of the city. In five years, the town will be claimed under eminent domain, and it will end up completely abandoned. Currently, only 87 people are registered as living in the houses beyond the tree line due north of here."
You nod, but then something stops you.
"It's
still burning?"
"Coal burns for a long time," Contessa comments.
She reaches into her jacket and pulls out a set of fingerless gloves. She quickly slides them on, all the while looking down the street without saying a word.
It gets really uncomfortable really quickly.
"So…" you start, "Why are we here?"
Contessa gives you a flat look and you throw your hands up in surrender.
"I know we need to recruit someone, but I meant the town," you explain, "A town with a warning sign that says just walking around could kill you isn't exactly the best welcome I've seen."
The deputy director nods, her head on a swivel as she does so.
"It was the ideal location," she says in a monotone, "the low population and general isolationism of the town makes it perfect, especially for you."
When you raise an eyebrow, Contessa continues.
"Little chance for collateral damage should events lead to violence."
"Aren't you supposed to be able to stop that kind of thing from happening?"
"There's always a possibility," She replied curtly.
"Fine," you say, "But are we going to start walking and meet with this guy or not?"
"No."
You resist the urge to slam your hand into your face.
"Why not?"
Whatever she's about to say, she stops herself as you manage to hear something.
The ever so distinct click of a hammer locking into place.
"He'll come to us," she says.
She turns and you follow her gaze. From behind the side of the gas station, someone steps out. He's about a foot shorter than you, with a long flowing black cape hiding most of his body. It's covered in specks of dirt and something black. A hood covers a good chunk of his face, but you manage to see a bit of a mask. It has snarling, fanged teeth that look sharper than steel. Strangest of all, twin orbs of red make up his eyes. From out of his cloak, he holds his arm perfectly in place. You manage to make out a sort of suit coat sleeve, but that doesn't worry you. What does worry you is what he's holding.
A small black gun.
You throw up a hand, forcing waves into existence in front of you. Contessa just shakes her head, but you sure as hell aren't going to put your hand down. Looking back, whoever he is, he quickly holds his hands up in surrender.
"Apologies," he says, his voice younger than you would have thought, "Circumstances have been forcing my hand as of late." He pauses for a second, letting his eyes study every inch of you.
Because of the mask, you don't know if he was impressed or disappointed.
"From what I've been told, it would be pointless to shoot. I would have a greater chance relying on luck."
You blink, then your eyes narrow at Contessa. She just raises an eyebrow.
"You already contacted him?"
"You saw the phone in the car," she says, the obviousness of the situation clear in her voice.
You hold up a finger and purse your lips.
"We really need to talk about warnings," you say.
"A single bullet was never going to hurt you,"
"That's not the-!" you start, but Contessa couldn't look more disinterested if she tried.
She looks back to the man, who slowly puts his hands down, but doesn't drop the gun. He studies the two of you from behind his mask. He reaches up and pulls back his hood, revealing a mop of dirty blond hair. He tilts his head at you.
"You haven't worked in the field with her have you?"
You feel your hand wrap a little tighter around your arm.
"What makes you think that?" you ask quickly.
"Educated assessment," he says.
He starts walking, ignoring your glowing hand and sits down on the hood of the car. He crosses his arms and glances at you. You get the feeling that he's raising an eyebrow behind his mask.
"If I wanted to do something to you, I would have acted the moment you stepped out of the car. The ground is quite unstable after all."
He points his gun at the ground and pulls the trigger. You follow the barrel of the gun and see the crack just under your feet.
Oh crap.
You jump, and the waves beam into life under you. You float in the air as the hammer goes down, but nothing comes out. Clicking the gun for a few times for show, the man stares at you behind the mask, holstering the gun and getting comfortable on the car. Or as comfortable as you could get when you're sitting on metal.
"My resources have been limited recently," he explains, "Most of my attempts to subdue him have lead to failure, much to the world's disappointment."
While you're happy that the man in the creepy mask won't just shoot you the second you turn your back, the last part of his sentence is a little too dark for comfort.
"Who's
he?" you ask, curiosity getting the question out as you slowly let yourself slide to the ground.
The masked man watches you every inch of the way. You can't see his eyes, but you swear he doesn't even blink.
"An inefficient idiot who wanted me to call him Incubus," he said, "We….
cooperated under a common goal, but interesting circumstances forced my hand when a friend and I had a disagreement."
The man somehow managed to grip the edge of the car, his fingers bleeding as he digs them into the metal. You watched him, somehow without blinking. You couldn't take your eyes off him, some part of you just couldn't bring itself to miss a detail. Finally, your lips decide to move.
"You pissed someone off just because just wanted to leave?" you ask.
The man somehow gives you a very deadpan look behind his mask.
"Interesting circumstances," he repeats.
He looks to Contessa and the deputy Director glances down, waiting intently.
"You're not here to just offer me asylum, are you?"
It was a question, but it sure as hell isn't a guess either. No matter what it was, it makes Contessa shakes her head.
"No."
He slowly nods his head, like he was expecting it.
"What's your price? Secrecy?"
His arm snakes towards his jacket, gripping something under the covers as he stares her down.
"Service?"
Despite the layer of steel in his voice, Contessa just shakes her head again.
"No."
Now, the man had to be confused.
"The situation with your former associate leaves us with little choice."
He freezes, his head turning towards you as if he was expecting you to have the answers he needed. You just shrug, you don't know where this was going.
Hell, Contessa probably didn't know where this was going, but she had her path to guide her.
"At its core, Cauldron exists to see the world become a better place," Contessa explains.
"Are you going to give me a lesson in morals now?" The man asks, his voice dry.
"You can create your own interpretation of our mission," Contessa replies, "But it doesn't change the fact that this situation is one that we can't ignore. As such, we will help you in the removal of your former associate, and at the end of it all, you can make the choice of joining, or going wherever you wish."
The man mask stares at her. Then he shakes, barking out a quick laugh.
"You're very confident that I'm going to chose the former, aren't you?"
Contessa takes the insult in stride, breaking out into a smile that sends shivers down your spine.
"I think you'll find my gifts, as well as my partner's abilities,
very interesting."
She reaches into her suit jacket and pulls out that glock of hers. A quick flourish of her hands, and it's cocked and ready.
"For now, however, we have business to take care off."
She gives the masked man a quick look that you don't really catch.
"And you have a name to make, don't you?"
Without waiting for a response she takes off, walking towards the east side of the gas station, leaving you alone with the masked man. He watches Contessa walk for a few steps, putting a hand to his chin as he does so. He rips his gaze away to look at you.
"Yeah… she does that," you grumble.
You stretch your legs and take a step forward, but you freeze as the man raises a hand.
"What's your stake in all of this?"
You blink, that wasn't what you were expecting.
But, you're not exactly one to back down from something like this anymore.
"Well," you say, "Like Contessa said, we're called Cauldron and we-,"
He holds up another hand, cutting you off mid-sentence.
"I didn't ask that I asked what
your stake in all of this was?"
He leans forward, chin on hands with interlocking fingers.
"You can fly, and according to her, there's no chance that a bullet could hurt you. There are millions of possibilities of what she can do reach that answer."
He turns his head, letting his two red orbs trace the path that Contessa just finished taking.
"And if that wasn't enough, there's more of you, isn't there," he continues, "It makes someone wonder what you plan on accomplishing. So what is it?"
[] You want to save lives. Not just for those like you, but everyone. Everyone deserves a chance like that. You want to use what you've gained to protect people when they can't protect themselves. No matter what it is
[] You want to make a world where anyone can make their own choices, and have the chance to do what they want without anyone holding them back. No matter what happened to them.
[] You want to set an example. It doesn't matter who it is, everyone deserves acceptance. Using your gifts is the best way you can do that.
