What a Wonderful World (A Worm/Psyren Fusion)

[Omniatrix]

Assault - Ethan - barely paused for breath before he extended a hand to Matsuri and kept going with the introductions. "I think Matsuri has already introduced herself. She's known publicly as Bombast. She's the most senior person still doing the Psyren jumps." Matsuri was still in the middle of stowing her scarf into the messenger bag at her side, but she paused to wave at Shadow Stalker and the guy I didn't recognize.

Despite the conversation moving on, I was having trouble following. Instead I was marveling at the fact that a Protectorate hero had just unmasked to me! He looked maybe in his mid twenties, good-looking but in an unremarkable way, the kind of guy you might pass on the street without really thinking anything about. It was actually a little bit shocking how different he looked without the visor. Now that I was paying attention, I could see that the visor covered up his hairline and brow. His brown hair had the tiniest hint of red to it that was more obvious without the bright red of the visor to compare it to, and the way the visor concealed the brow and cheekbones meant that it looked like his face had an entirely different shape than it had a moment before.

"Shadow Stalker, do you want to take off the mask, get comfortable, introduce yourself?" Ethan asked.

In response, the other PRT hero rolled her eyes. "Fuck off, you're not my boss here."

The older hero didn't seem surprised by the hostility of the response and just shrugged. "She's a bit prickly," he explained in a half-whisper that was nowhere near quiet enough to avoid the Ward herself overhearing. "Don't let it bother you too much. She's only had a few more visits to Psyren than you have. This is your fourth visit, right?" The last question was directed at Shadow Stalker.

She still didn't seem to be in any hurry to remove her mask. "Yeah, but I was a cape for a whole year before that. I survived being an independent cape for almost the whole time."

Despite the confrontational tone, Assault only barely seemed to acknowledge her response. "Right. So, hopefully you all can get along. Now, why don't one of our newbies introduce themselves? Don't worry, despite Shadow Stalker's standoffishness, you can take your mask off here - like I said, the staff will knock before coming in." He turned toward the guy next to him in the PRT standard mask.

The other guy seemed to shrink under the attention. Nevertheless, his hand came slowly for his own mask. When he removed it, he revealed an older asian boy I only barely recognized. The guy Shadow Stalker and I had hauled away to wait for an ambulance looked like he had had his life force sucked out through a straw, his hair limp and his cheeks gaunt. Still, the recognition came with a sense of relief so strong it felt like a punch in the chest. I had seen most of the people pulled into the Psyren event die that I had almost forgotten that there was someone whose fate had been hanging in the balance.

"Yeah. Hi. Um, my name is Tatsuo?" he said. "I don't have a cape name or anything because I'm not a cape. Or, I guess I wasn't before that…whatever that was. Before I almost bled to death. Now I'm here and I'm supposed to have powers but I don't really feel anything…" Instead of finishing his sentence properly he trailed off, looking down at the table in front of him.

Despite the kind of pathetic atmosphere around the guy, Ethan gave him a smile and patted him on the back. "That's right. We're all capes here, thanks to Psyren, whether you were before you started or not. Shadow Stalker there was, but me and Matsuri got our powers from the trips directly."

It felt like my voice had been caught in my throat since I had seen the Protectorate hero, and suddenly it became unstuck. "I talked to Miss Militia, and she said the Protectorate are still looking for clues about Psyren. Haven't you warned them about…" I wasn't sure exactly how to describe my experience with Psyren so far, so I just went with, "all of that?"

If he were surprised or upset about my interruption, he didn't show it, but his expression was a little less light. "Why don't you introduce yourself first, then we can get on with the explanation."

With the eyes of everyone in the booth now on me, I figured I could wait for a moment or two to learn what was going on. "My name's Taylor," I offered. I struggled for a second to remove the ratty blue ski mask, but finally got it off and ran my hand through my hair to try to keep it out of my face. I didn't know why I had thought it would be a good idea to bring this, when I should have just kept the PRT-issued mask like Tatsuo apparently had. To fill the silence, I added. "I had a power before everything happened, but it was kind of useless. And now it's even worse."

The mention of my power made me lose the struggle I had been having to shut it out of my mind for a moment. Even with a fairly large booth like we were in, with everyone crowded in they were all in my range. It was distracting even noticing it, so I was trying hard not to. Even worse, the people around me burned much brighter and stronger in my power's sense. It was a little like the stronger sense I had had of Miss Militia. Where she had felt like a singular point in my mind, the others here were different, more diffuse in a way I couldn't adequately explain. Their signatures weren't all the same strength, either. Tatsuo was barely a flicker, though he still had that same fluid quality that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Shadow Stalker was a touch brighter, perhaps about half of Miss Militia's strength if the two could be compared. Matsuri, conversely, was just above Miss Militia, considerably stronger than anyone else I had felt before.

Assault was nearly blinding. Whatever quality the signals' strengths were supposed to represent in my mind, he had more than I had imagined would be possible.

With a deliberate effort, I wrestled the sense of my power down and into the corner of my mind so I could ignore it. I didn't want to be thinking about how I could seize control of everyone around me, especially not when they included a Ward and a Protectorate hero who I was trying to get answers from.

"Well, it's nice to meet everyone," Assault said. "You'll all want to get to know each other, because the four of you are going to be doing Psyren trips together for a little while. As to your question…" he said, facing me directly. He had had a somewhat flippant tone, but he seemed to be growing more serious as he spoke. "I have finished with my Psyren trips, but that doesn't mean I'm exactly free of all of Nemesis Q's restrictions. I don't get pulled along on jumps like you guys did, but I still can't talk to anyone about it or else…" he put his fist to his chest and mimed it exploding outward. "And since I finished my run before I joined the Protectorate, there's no way for them to learn about it. They caught Shadow Stalker's connection because of the missing time, but they know enough to know she can't say anything."

Beside him, Tatsuo is looking a little lost, and Ethan seems to spot that, because he takes a deep breath before laying his hands flat on the table. "Alright. I want to make sure everyone is on the same page here, so let me explain to you the basics of what Psyren is and what is happening. These are things I and a lot of the people before me had to work out on our own, but I try to do my best to pass them on to every new person who joins.

"Psyren rule number one: you cannot talk about Psyren to non-members. You cannot write about Psyren in a way non-members might find. You cannot even leave hints about Psyren to people you trust to figure them out. If you attempt to communicate anything at all about Psyren to someone who doesn't already know, you will start feeling pain in your chest. It will continue getting worse and worse until you start passing over actual information, at which point you will suffer a heart attack and die. Medically, there will be no clear cause for the heart attack, but it will always be fatal."

I had known that already from Miss MIlitia's warning, and Shadow Stalker and Matsuri had obviously been told this after their first visits. Tatsuo's face, though, was beginning to grow more and more pale as Assault spoke.

"Psyren rule number two: your Psyren card is your life. Keep it on you at all times. On the top corner, it will have a number that counts down from fifty. We do not know exactly what it is counting, but each jump will subtract a certain amount of points from that number. Once you reach zero, you no longer have to worry about jumps. You must have it with you if you are called for a jump, because it is critical to the process of exiting the jump.

"Psyren rule number three: always answer the phone. A jump will start with a phone call that only you can hear, growing louder and louder until you answer it. It does not stop if you ignore it, it just continues to get louder until you either pick up any functioning phone and put it to your ear, or you either go insane or have an aneurysm." I must have reacted somehow to that one too, because Ethan was looking between us and paused in his lecture. "As far as we can tell it is not connected to her, but the concern is understandable. There have been former members of Psyren who have been at battles with her and say it's different, but there are so many unknowns we can't be sure. That's another reason it's important to answer the phone quickly. It is safest if you carry a phone around with you at all times to make sure you always have one on hand to initiate a jump."

"Psyren rule number four: get together and follow the vision. Once you pick up a phone, you will be teleported to - let's just say for now, you'll be teleported elsewhere. You will all be nearby, and there should be some form of surviving phone nearby as well, whether that's a payphone or a home landline or a discarded cell phone. Gather there, and you will get a vision that will show you another intact phone. Find it, avoid the exclusion zones around the big siren towers, and connect your Psyren card to the exit phone and you will be teleported back here. It's taken us a lot of work, but we have worked out some things about the other world you go to for these jumps. We can go over some of our educated guesses in the strategy sessions. It's usually a few weeks between calls.

"Psyren rule number five: learn to use your powers. You have them now, whether you did before or not. They are somewhat different from normal powers, and that's what we'll be spending most of our time on while we wait for you to be called. We'll need to figure out and help you train with your new abilities. For now, just know that learning to use your powers will be the difference between life and death.

"And that brings us to the final rule," Assault said, looking practically somber now. In fact, all three of them were, Shadow Stalker with her arms crossed and her eyes fixed on the table in front of her and Matsuri looking subdued. "Psyren rule number six: people will die. Psyren jumps are deadly. In my time, I have seen enough to put them on-par with…with an Endbringer battle. Your first jumps will be your hardest, but I have seen people at all stages make mistakes." His expression was like stone as he looked each of us in the eyes in turn, not just Rick and I but Shadow Stalker and Matsuri as well. "Of the four of you still jumping, even considering Matsuri has almost finished her own run, it will be a miracle if two of you make it to where I am. It's why I am the only veteran available, and why so many of us before had to figure things out on our own. I am sorry."

We were silent in the wake of his final rule. I wasn't sure what we could possibly say to encompass what I was feeling. I had worked out Psyren was deadly - there had hardly been a night where I hadn't woken up to the memory of the crossbow bolt's tip appearing out of the field of dark hair in the back of a skull.

Assault's comparison to an Endbringer fight wasn't lost on me. I wasn't a cape geek who knew the exact statistics for that kind of thing, but I knew that they weren't good. I had briefly thought about participating in an Endbringer fight, and had come to the conclusion that I could only justify it if for some reason it had come to Brockton Bay. And now, I would have to go through something comparable to that every few weeks. There were people who had survived dozens of Endbringer battles, I knew there were. From what I understood, the Triumvirate attended all they were allowed. But there was a reason why they were the Triumvirate and I…was not. I was a girl who controlled bugs, who couldn't barely even do that anymore.

"I know this is difficult to hear, and I am sorry you are going through this," Ethan's voice came, pulling me out of the spiral of my own thoughts, "but it's important you know what to expect. We will do our best to prepare you for the jumps, but you have to understand how much danger you are in. Please work with us and stay together as a team as much as you can. Having teammates you can rely on will be critical."

He seemed to hesitate before continuing, drawing a long breath and no longer meeting any of our eyes. "And even if you survive, not everyone will. It looks, at the moment, like Nemesis Q is in a recruiting period; sometimes you'll go many jumps without new people, and sometimes you will get a half-dozen in a row bringing new jumpers on. There will likely be more new people in the coming months." His expression was truly just short of a grimace here, and he was pausing between statements as if he could avoid saying them entirely if he just waited long enough. "You will watch many of them die. No matter how hard you try, you will not be able to save some of them. You will have to focus on your own survival if you want to have a chance of making it through this. There will not be time to grieve them."

I didn't know how to respond to that, and from the silence in the booth, the other must have been struggling with the same issue. I couldn't imagine such a callous response, even as I understood what he was saying.

But Shadow Stalker must have thought differently, because I felt below the table as her leg lashed out to kick the center support violently. "Who the fuck's grieving for a weakling like Browbeat?" she bit out.

I didn't recall getting to my feet. I was only aware when I had halfway crawled over where Matsuri was sitting at the end of the booth. My hand got caught on the curtain and then I found myself impeded by Matsuri's arm around me. I struggled to get out of her grip, but she was sliding away from me to take my now-empty space in the booth. I stumbled a step when something blue swept over my vision, and then I was released to crash out through the curtains into the open diner.

I was only barely able to understand what anyone was saying, only catching snippets of conversation in the diner and something like, "let her go, we'll give her a call when things cool down," from inside the booth. The waitress who I had ordered a chocolate milk from was at the counter and looking at me with concern, but I was more focused on the door. I had to get out.

It was a relief when I got Shadow Stalker out of my range. I hadn't known what I was going to do. I had wanted to reach out and hit her, but feeling her there, in my grasp, just a thought away, for even a second longer had felt too dangerous. I didn't even know for sure what would have happened, just that it would have been bad. What would Assault have done if I had controlled a Ward like that? Would I have then had to take over all of them? What then? I didn't even know for sure I could control people like that, but I couldn't handle the risk, not after what she had said.

Even now, safely away from the danger of lashing out, I was having trouble understanding it. How could she say that about someone who had died protecting us? Sure, Shadow Stalker had gotten out before it happened, but she had seen Browbeat fighting the horse-head creatures. She had apparently done this with Browbeat before. I couldn't imagine being so callous as to write off his death like that.

When I felt like I had walked sufficiently far from the diner that I wasn't at risk of Shadow Stalker accidentally re-entering my range, I stopped to lean against the brick wall of a nearby building. I thought about turning around and going back to the diner. The reality was, I needed answers. I would have to talk to Assault again, at least, and I would see Shadow Stalker, Matsuri, and Tatsuo whenever the next call came, from what I understood.

But I knew if I went back, the temptation would still be there. Shadow Stalker was still…I didn't even want to think about it anymore. Even though all I had done was sit on a bench in the park and then walk to a diner and sit in a booth there, I felt exhausted. It was like the first few times I had gone running after the hospital, sweaty and gasping for breath and questioning why I had done any of this, even as I knew it would be important. Would I eventually get used to this kind of emotional whiplash, like I had the running?

Instead, I turned back to the park I had come from, and the bus station there to go home. I would have to face the other people called by Psyren eventually, but for now, I was going to work on how I could be a hero, even with my much-reduced powers.

 

[CrossHope]

So I'm guessing the Psyren powers sync with any Shard powers someone has but since Taylor, if she has her canon bug powers fully the way they are in story, is having some adjustment issues that will go away with mastering her powers?

I'm trying to guess if she'll be best with Rise or Trance.

 

[Omniatrix]

I stuffed my backpack between a dumpster and the wall of the building behind it, then slowly made my way to the mouth of the alleyway, my mask in hand.

It was my first night testing it out. With my much-reduced workforce of black-widows, I had had to focus narrowly on what I was producing, but thankfully with a full week more of time to dedicate to weaving, I had managed to finish the parts of the mask I had started before my weavers had killed each other. In the dark, it was difficult to make out the details, but the streetlights in the distance reflected off the gold lenses on the mask. I hadn't had time for anything dramatic, and so I had mostly stuck to my original plans - the mask was stretchy silk dyed black with rigid paneling around the face and jaw array to provide extra protection. I had originally planned to make the jawline reminiscent of insect mandibles, but that added complexity that I didn't need, and it didn't even really match my powers anymore anyway. The new design just looked like angular shapes, though there was still a vaguely insectoid feel to it just because of the bulbous golden lenses from the goggles I had taken apart.

I just held the mask in my hands for a few seconds. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to linger here too long, but this was my first time going out with a real costume instead of whatever I could piece together to hide my identity. I had thought about my nightly walks as patrols before, and I had put at least a little effort into a costume, but this was the first time I was going out as a real hero with a real mask.

I finally put my mask on, pulling my hair through the open part on the back and re-arranging the lenses to sit snugly over my eyes. I was glad that the goggles had been one of the first things I had bought when I started planning the costume, because I had never intended to finish much on the design this early. And I certainly hadn't planned to do any patrols until my costume was finished, but that had been before the change in my powers had forced me to reconsider. For now, I would have to make do with the dark, nondescript coat and cargo pants with just my mask marking me as a proper superhero.

I stepped out of the alley and started my walk down the sidewalk. This wasn't exactly a good part of town, but at this point I didn't think I had much to worry about, considering I had been doing these patrols every other night for the last week and a half, and hadn't once come across a crime in progress. If I had really been going out desperate to be a hero each night, it would have been a real disappointment. Thankfully, that wasn't the primary purpose of these patrols at all.

When I got to a corner, I crossed the street at a crosswalk to get to the nearby park. It wasn't very large, but there was a small grove of trees. I could sense a half dozen squirrels asleep perched up in some of them, but I decided to leave them be. A swarm of squirrels would certainly be formidable, but they were too wild to keep in the basement or backyard.

My first prize of the night was not in the trees, but in the side of a small gazebo littered with broken bottles and other dangerous paraphernalia. Hidden in the rafters was a large wasp nest, with enough wasps to form a proper swarm.

Of course, given it was wintertime, it would be a small swarm, as most were lethargic from hibernating. But a few minutes of warming up and I was able to get them to rest in my clothes and hair for warmth. I would likely be able to take the whole hive home and find a place for them in the basement.

As I exited the small grove of trees and left the park on the other side to go deeper into the residential areas, I came across my second prize of the evening. I walked past an overflowing dumpster for a residential building and felt a small form hiding underneath with my power. I seized it and had the creature walk out to present itself. It was a tabby cat, with matted and patchy fur. I walked it around me in a circle and didn't feel any specific injuries in its movements, but it seemed thin and I could feel the hunger pains it was getting. There wasn't a collar, so it was likely a stray. Still, it was healthy enough, so I had it pad along at my side as I went.

Unfortunately, I had discovered on previous patrols that animals tended to respond viscerally to being controlled with my power. Where insects were apparently too simple to avoid entering my range again after being released, the few animals I had managed to find would bolt away from me upon regaining their freedom. It meant that I wasn't able to gather an army of smaller mammals like squirrels or rats and hide them away in my basement, at least not safely. Given this cat looked like it was halfway to starving to death, I was hopeful that I might be able to force it down into the basement with my powers and then bribe its compliance with food.

That in mind, I moved a number of my newfound wasps to hitch a ride on the small creature. While they were there, I had them comb through its fur, looking for any fleas too small for my power to catch. I wouldn't want to cause problems if I brought a pet home that had parasites.

Ultimately, I knew, this was a somewhat silly endeavor. As a cape, a cat wouldn't seriously enhance my capabilities. Anyone could fight off a cat, powers or no. I could probably do more damage with the stun gun I kept in my coat's pockets. It was more the principal of the thing. I needed to believe there was some way I could make my power work, if I just tried hard enough. It would take work, I knew, but maybe if I collected a whole clowder of stray cats, or managed to tame a proper swarm of rodents. I wasn't sure where I would ever find enough food for any of them, but I couldn't give up on the thought.

I had Matsuri's phone number, but I hadn't reached out yet. I think Assault had actually sent me a text, too, on the PRT-issued phone, but I hadn't read it. It wasn't that I was trying to ignore them. I would get back to them eventually, figure out what was going on with Psyren from people who had actual experience. But they had given me enough information to know that I had multiple weeks until I got pulled into that otherworld again, so a week and a half spent patrolling on my own and trying to figure out how my new power worked was excusable, I thought. Once I had a plan for how I could be more than just dead weight next time, then I would talk to them again and hear about whatever the next horrible revelation they had for me was.

I was pulled away from my thoughts by the sound of a voice from an alley ahead of me. It wasn't my human ears that picked it up; the stray cat at my feet had much finer-tuned senses than my own. I had never really tried getting sensory information from my power when it was just bugs, and even when I tried it with the smaller critters now it was still headache-inducing. But mammals were built much more similarly to humans than insects were. The sounds were a little distorted, like everything was muffled in a thick blanket, but it was enough that I could just barely make out speech if I focused.

In this case, the words I was hearing were a particularly unpleasant surprise. "- right, kill the bitch and her family, make it look like an initiation, I got the details before." The voice wasn't just speaking from the alleyway. The cat could hear it getting closer, and as it did, I began to make out the voice with my own ears. It sounded male, and he was coming out of the alleyway. "I told you, I don't need the background. You want blood, I'm on board. I'm already at the building."

There was another alleyway, just a few paces behind me, with a large dumpster near the road. I ducked back and hid myself behind it, hoping the speaker hadn't left his own hiding spot early enough to see me go. While I did, I looked around at the buildings we were near. I couldn't be sure which building he was talking about, because this was a residential area. On either side of the road were run-down brick apartment buildings that must have been constructed before Scion appeared and looked like they hadn't been maintained since.

"If I gave a shit about killing kids, I wouldn't've made it in this game." My heart jumped into my throat. The speaker was definitely out of the alleyway now, and I risked jumping my stray up to sit on the dumpster's lid so I could watch through its eyes. "Sure, sure. What do you want me to do if I can't get her in her sleep?"

The stray could make out a large figure in the dark, broad shoulders and an unhurried gait. It was hard to tell, with a cat's night vision, but from the way the streetlights silhouetted his body, I thought he might be shirtless. He let out a low, rasping chuckle that made me shiver in dread. He was laughing about killing children. "You sure? Well, that will really shake things up, won't it. You just make sure I get the money, got it?"

My hand was in my pocket, clutching at my own PRT-issued cell phone. I should call this in. Miss MIlitia couldn't possibly be awake at all hours just in case I called, but surely she would have someone checking for my calls, given she said I could reach her at any time. The problem was, there was no way anyone would reach me in time. The speaker had hung up the phone they were talking on and was stepping off the sidewalk into the road, crossing the street with a complete lack of concern for the potential of passing cars. He was moving straight across to one of the nicer apartment buildings, to whatever degree the distinction could be made in a run-down area like this.

I should call this in, but I was a hero. That was what I had wanted out of these patrols, right? Hadn't I just been mourning the fact that I hadn't run into any crime? And this guy, whoever he was, he had mentioned killing kids. Killing a family at least. I could barely believe what I had been hearing. And if I waited any longer, if something didn't distract him, it would be too late by the time the real heroes arrived.

Without letting myself stop to think more about it, I stood up from behind the dumpster and began to follow behind him. He was only a few feet outside my range, most of the way across the street, and so I had the wasp hive lift away from my clothes and the cat's fur. Without knowing who this was, I would have preferred to do this while still hidden, but the change in my range wouldn't allow that.

He had noticed me by the time I had stepped over the curb, and he stopped, just barely turning to get a look at me. "The fuck do you think you are?" he managed to ask, before I set my tiny swarm upon him.

Now that I was closer, I could see him better with my own and the cat's eyes. He had a metal mask reminiscent of a dog or a wolf, and I could just barely make out a tattoo with a swastika on one bicep. Most importantly, he was indeed bare chested, so my wasps had plenty of bare skin to direct their ire at.

I got a dozen stings in before the wasps felt something shift under the skin they were perched on, and the man exploded into a maelstrom of metal. I had done my best to wake the bugs up, but they were still recovering from torpor, and most didn't manage to lift off fast enough to avoid being caught in the interlocking blades. I took three steps back before I hit the wall of the building behind me, trying to keep at least a little bit of distance from the writhing metal canine figure that was taking shape across the street.

The cape was one I had recognized almost immediately upon seeing the mask. Hookwolf was one of the local Nazi gang's most dangerous enforcers, mostly because of the giant metal monster form I was watching in front of me. Right now, he seemed too concerned with roaring in pain and surprise to focus on me, but I couldn't count on that lasting.

Without any more hesitation, I turned and made for the alley I had come in from in a dead sprint, my stray cat at my heels. If I could distract him with chasing me, I could pull him away from whoever his target had been. I might be able to call the Protectorate in. My hand was already in my sweatshirt pocket, clutching at the PRT issued phone.

I didn't make it out of the alley. Before I could reach the other end, there was a screeching of metal on metal and something massive rocketed out of the night behind me, passing just to my right and then bouncing off the alley's wall with a hollow ringing sound. When it settled to the ground in front of the exit, I recognized it. I had just had an entire dumpster thrown in my direction.

I spun around on my heel, my momentum throwing me backward and off balance and I stumbled against one wall to catch myself. Behind me, on the far side of the alleyway where I had entered, the car-sized wolf made of blades was striding forward. He was just outside my range, but he wasn't moving in any hurry. The alleyway was too dark to make out any details with my own vision, but the cat could make out the glint of human eyes recessed deep in the creature's face.

I still had a small handful of wasps that had both managed to escape being blended by Hookwolf's initial transformation and had been moving fast enough to stay in my range. When he did reach the edge of my range, I had them crawl onto the metal snout and make their way toward the eyes.

I could feel the cape himself through my power's senses. Under the blades, he felt like a compact shape behind the eyes, smaller than a person but larger than a head. He shone with a little less strength than Miss Militia, and nowhere near Assault.

Before the wasps could reach the fleshy eyes themselves, they were crushed by metal that closed in around the eyes briefly before opening again, as if Hookwolf's form was blinking. With that, I was out the last of my bugs.

I crawled back as the massive metal form approached, until I reached the damaged dumpster he had thrown at me. It wasn't completely blocking off my exit, but by the time I could climb up and over it, he would be on me. The fact that he wasn't already suggested that he was just playing with his food. I still had one hand in my pocket, and with it I let go of my phone and tried to find something else by touch alone.

Hookwolf stopped when his metal jaws were looming right over me, and to my surprise, the blades and chains that made up his form began to recede down, as if sucked into their center, vanishing into space too small to hold all that mass. When they were gone, it was just the man left, one hand rubbing at his bare chest and the other on his hip.

"Motherfucker," he said, sounding still in pain. "That hurts! You're one vicious bitch, aren't you? You white under that mask? Why don't you come make some decent money in my rings, huh? You come with me and we have a private little initiation, and we can forget this. Otherwise, I can't let you leave his alley alive."

I used the hand against the dumpster to begin leveraging myself up to my feet. The E88 cape was close, but not quite in arms range, so I took a tentative step forward. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of an answer, but I need him distracted so he wouldn't see my attack coming.

So I used the only other option I had. From where I had hidden it behind me, the stray lept towards Hookwolf's face, claws out and hissing. It felt like a punch to the gut when a sweep of the cape's arm intercepted him. With a thunk like a baseball bat against leather, the cat was thrown back out of the alleyway and out of my range entirely. I didn't let myself dwell on it, though, as it gave me the opening I needed. In the handful of moments Hookwolf's vision was obscured, I closed the gap and jabbed my stun gun directly into his ribs.

Instantly, he froze, letting out a choked grunt. I saw his body lock up as all his muscles tensed, and I pressed harder with the device. Then I saw movement that wasn't the twitch of tendons, and before I could react, a dozen spars of metal had shot out of his chest and shoulders, smashing through the plastic casing of the stun gun and then retracting, forcing a cry of pain from me as my hand was partially crushed with it.

My knees buckled from the sensation, but I was caught in my fall by a hand around my throat.

"Goddamn, you really are a fighter, aren't you?" Hookwolf growled. His hand raised and I found myself lifted up from my half bent over position to my feet and then to my tip-toes until he was suspending me in the air with one hand. "I was just planning on removing some vermin tonight, but I'm not above killing white girls that don't know when to give up. Whatever power you've got will much better serve the Empire. So just nod your pretty head, I can set you down, and the two of us can go kill the family I'm supposed to be taking out as your first mission."

I realized, hanging there in the air with my hands scrabbling at his steel grip, that I had been an idiot. I had been worried about fighting even normal criminals with the limited range of my new power. Against someone like Hookwolf, I might as well have had no powers at all. I should have just called it in and hoped that the Protectorate would be smart enough to have someone on duty who could get out fast enough to save his targets.

Now, staring my death in the face, with all my careful planning amounting to nothing, I knew I only had one real option if I wanted to live.

Hookwolf lowered me down until my feet were on the ground and then released me, taking a step back away. With his support gone, I collapsed, coughing, to my knees. Then he moved toward the stone wall of the building beside us and slammed his head against it as hard as he could.

The brick of the wall gave way before his body did, and he clanged like he was made of metal. I could feel his power under his skin as I pulled his head back for another headbutt. It didn't do anything but leave a small crater in the brickwork.

It was strange actually using my power for real, for once. The insects and the cat and the other small animals I had tested with had been one thing, but now that I was actually reaching out and holding a cape, I realized that this was what my new power had been meant for. With barely a thought, the metal blades under his skin slid out around his arms again, taking no particular shape. With the thorny expanded limb, I directed a blow to his head, producing a loud clanging noise and shredding the skin on his face.

I could feel the barest flicker of the person beyond my control. There was definitely a mind in there, and I could feel it fluttering and beating in a panic like a moth caught between two hands. It didn't translate to any physical reaction in the body, though, not a blink or an intake of breath or even a sped-up heart rate. The body and power were just…mine, as much as my own was.

I let Hookwolf's other arm expand into a bladed cudgel as well and beat his head again with both hands. The metal was bending and tearing off in pieces, but it wasn't getting any closer to knocking him out. I was beginning to realize that I had stumbled into a dilemma. I could do all the damage Hookwolf could possibly manage himself, but nothing seemed to be sticking. Given his powers, I couldn't think of any way to restrain him, and the moment he left my range he would be back in control. Judging from the frantic fluttering feeling I was getting from his mind, he would not let me go.

I held no illusions that he might flee. Once I let him go or pushed him out of my range, there would be nothing I could do to stop him from hunting me down again. I wouldn't be able to run far before he left my range either. He wasn't leaving me many options. I let his arms fall to his sides as I tried to come up with some other way to put him down.

I used my uninjured hand into my pocket to dig for my PRT phone. I didn't know how long I could hold him in place. Was my power as permanent as it was with my insects? I couldn't be sure it wouldn't wear off or fail somehow. I was reluctant to trust my life to an assumption like that.

And if I could hold him that long, what then? The heroes would know about my power. Would they arrest me on the spot? I couldn't imagine they would ever risk letting me try to be a hero. And Hookwolf…I could feel the frantic flittering of his mind only vaguely, but I could tell he was truly angry now, angry and scared. If he ever got free, I doubted he would be content to let me go any longer.

This was why my power was so useless. It could let me end a fight with someone like Hookwolf…once. As soon as anyone found out what I could do, I was sure I would become public enemy number one, to the gangs and the PRT both, probably. And with a hard limit of a dozen feet or so, I would be a sitting duck to anyone less reliant on direct physical attacks. I vaguely recalled at least one Empire Eighty-Eight cape that could shoot lasers.

I was trapped, almost as surely as the E88 cape was.

The blades along Hookwolf's right arm shifted around, facing upward until his forearm was one wicked-looking spike. His power was under my control, but with his mind dancing away just outside it, none of his skill was available to me. He must have practiced shaping himself into his wolf form, because the bladed metal came out uneven and amorphous under my command. I could feel the limits of his power too; it took something out of him to create that much metal, and if it were cut off of him he would need to catch his breath to regenerate it, but he wouldn't be harmed so long as nothing hurt his core flesh-and-blood body. Even now, in a mostly human form, there was still metal underneath his skin, but below that there was still flesh.

He raised his spike arm, drew it back, and with as much force as his body and powers combined could manage, drove it directly into his own chest.

The tip of the spike came out his back, gushing more blood than I had expected, even as I knew the blow had aimed for his heart. He stood stock still, painting the sidewalk below him in splatters of red, for maybe thirty seconds as I felt the desperate flickering of his mind gutter out in my grasp. When the last movement of his intelligence stilled, his body slumped to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

 

[7Winds]

Well that certainly got the "Point" across on her abilities.

 

[Omniatrix]

I gasped and found myself almost retching. I was on my knees on the sidewalk, barely three feet away from the Hookwolf's lifeless body. The streetlamps seemed brighter than they had been a few moments before, and the world was swimming around me. How long had I been on my knees? I didn't remember falling.

There was a lot of blood on the sidewalk. It was pooling now and running off into the storm drain a few feet away. The body in front of me wasn't moving. I tried to stand, only for the ground to be too unstable under my feet. I fell back down to one knee. I needed to get up, but now that I wasn't about to be killed by a psychopathic Nazi, I was having trouble figuring out what to do next.

I knew that I couldn't stick around. If anyone saw me with the body, I was sure to be in trouble, whether they were heroes or villains. Even normal people might cause me problems. But as much as I tried to pull myself up, my body didn't want to respond.

In the end, it proved moot. I was pulled from my thoughts by a strangely familiar voice. "Hey there, killer. That's a hell of a trance you've got."

I managed to get my feet under me this time as I stood and turned toward the voice. All I saw was a dark blur in the night and for a moment I worried that I may have knocked the prescription lenses out of my mask. Blinking a few times cleared up the blurriness, though, and I finally recognized the speaker.

Shadow Stalker stood in the streetlight at the mouth of the alleyway, where Hookwolf and I had entered from. Her costume looked oddly disheveled and she was wielding a crossbow in each hand as well as clouds of her shadow vapor hanging at her sides.

I took a half-step back away from her before remembering the dumpster behind me blocking my exit. "Shadow Stalker, I'm not - " I cut myself off, unsure how to defend myself. I didn't know how much she had seen, but I knew what this looked like.

The Ward laughed at my words, but it was more of a nervous chuckle than real amusement. "Hey, you won't see me complaining about killing a Nazi." She let her crossbows fall, but there was still tension in her stance. "A lone E88 heavy-hitter around here - a neighborhood like this, I mean - in the dead of night. Probably nothing good going on there."

"He said he was going to kill kids - a family with kids," I tried to explain. "I wasn't trying to - I just - there wasn't any other way to incapacitate him."

My words weren't helping to resolve the tension I saw in the Ward. If she tried to attack me…no, if she attacked me I would just run. Hookwolf was one thing, but Shadow Stalker was a Ward. A hero. I didn't want my secret to get out, but I wasn't going to hurt a kid my own age who hadn't done anything wrong.

"Right - that's - " Shadow Stalker was stumbling over her words, though I couldn't figure out why, " - then it's a good thing you took him out, huh?" She cautiously hooked the crossbows to the belt on her hip and took slow steps into the alleway towards me, both hands raised as if to reassure me she wasn't armed. "We're going to have to clean up the body before anyone finds it. Don't want the PRT on your ass. Let me help with that."

I glanced down at the body behind me. I hadn't really thought that far ahead. It would lead to questions I couldn't answer right now, wouldn't it? It was pretty obvious that he hadn't driven his hand through his heart of his own volition. I didn't know how Shadow Stalker was going to help, but I didn't think I could afford not to accept any assistance being offered. I was barely keeping ahold of myself as it was; I was in no state to be making plans to avoid discovery.

I felt Shadow Stalker enter my range, but I didn't let my power take her. I tried to keep as far away as I could from the mental switch that would bring her under my control. She didn't seem to notice any difference at all, still approaching me like I was a startled animal. When she reached the figure at my feet, she kneeled down and set both palms on one of the body's legs.

"I can't do anything living. And he's a lot bigger than anything I've done before. But I should be able to…" she trailed off, and the flesh under her hands began to turn black, dissolving into the same dark vapor that was hovering behind her now in an ominous cloud.

"Wait - stop, what are you doing?" I protested, my hand stretching out to her before I realized she was flinching away from me.

When she saw that I wasn't moving any closer, she seemed to relax a tiny fraction. "We can't leave a body. At least my new powers are useful for something, right?"

As much as I was trying not to think about Hookwolf's lifeless form, I couldn't think of any other idea. "Oh. Okay."

While we had been speaking, the dark patch under her hands had frozen in place. When I let my hand drop from where it had been hanging, she seemed to take that as encouragement to continue, and the wavering edge of the patch began expanding outward.

It was a slow process, but the section turned to smoke managed to spread at a glacial pace around his leg. It crept up to the knee and down to the boots from where she was touching. It took the torn jeans he had been wearing with it, and it moved into the worn leather boots just as readily. I thought Shadow Stalker must have been focusing hard to make this happen, because she was quiet as she worked and her posture was rigid.

"What did you mean about a trance?" I asked, suddenly remembering the words that had pulled me out of my stupor.

She didn't answer immediately, and I could see through her mask's eye holes that her attention was still fixed on what she was doing. It was taking her minutes and she had just barely extended her through the whole leg. "Right. You ran out on Assault's introduction. He was supposed to tell you all about the new powers."

When the leg had been turned to dark vapor from the toes to the hip, she pulled her hands away. The shape immediately dissipated into the air, flowing in streams into the mass behind the cape. The place it had connected to the body before oozed red and I looked away.

Shadow Stalker just shifted how she was kneeling and moved her hands to the other leg. "The powers from Psyren are different from your old ones.The short version is you get three powers now, except they're usually secretly just one power, except for the ways they're really three different powers. And for new people you get no powers at first unless you were a cape before going in, then you get one."

I didn't think it was just the late hour that was making it difficult to parse the explanation. She seemed to realize it too, because after a moment she let out a frustrated huff.

"The important thing is the three powers part. Assault labeled all of them, I guess. Rise is body stuff. Burst is external things like lasers or my smoke. Trance is mind shit. Everyone gets one of each."

This time I sort of understood what she was saying, even if I didn't think she was right. "I've only got one power," I said.

"Right. If you had one before Psyren, you get whichever is closest to your old power. The rest you have to like, meditate on the meaning of motion or some shit. You'd have to ask Assault. He has a whole thing about 'separate wells of power' and 'emotional resonance' and whatever. Or you figure it out in a fight when your life's on the line, like most people. If you didn't have a power before, you would have had to do that to get any of the powers."

I considered that. I really wished the Protectorate hero had said that while I was there. If I had known I could get some other power, I might not have wasted my time doing the pointless patrols I had been going on these last few weeks. I might not have been powerless to stop Hookwolf killing a family.

After a few more moments of silence, Shadow Stalker added, "Controlling Hookwolf to kill himself, seems like one badass Trance power to me."

I didn't answer her immediately, and she had finished with the other leg while I was thinking. She had to actually stand and step over the growing pool of blood on the concrete to get to the first of the body's arms. I tried to see things her way and not get angry at her words. I had just beat one of the Empire's strongest enforcers during my first real cape fight. But I hadn't wanted it to turn out that way. I hadn't meant to use my power like that at all. Ever.

"Is there…" I began, before trailing off. It was a stupid question, and went against everything I had learned about powers so far in my research. But I was compelled to ask it anyway. "Is it possible to change my trance power?"

"Huh? Yeah," Shadow Stalker replied, shocking me. "I mean, a little at least. That's why I can even do this. At first I could only transform things I could hold. But practice lets you change things a little bit." She finished with the arm she had been working on and leaned forward to touch the arm that was partially embedded in the body's chest. "And it gets stronger and more useful the more times you go to Psyren. It's why Assault and Matsuri are so strong. I bet it's part of the point of the whole jumping thing. Give us survivors better powers, if we can live long enough to get 'em."

Her words seemed confident, but I had trouble finding them reassuring. What would happen if my powers got stronger? Would the range just go back to what it used to be, or would it be something else? I had hoped she would be able to reassure me, but maybe that was impossible.

Maybe if I had figured out the other powers she had mentioned earlier, I would have been able to resolve this some other way. Would Assault have been able to teach me what I needed to prevent this if I had just stuck around for the last week and a half?

My right hand was still throbbing with pain from where Hookwolf had crushed my stungun, so I used my left hand to pull the PRT phone out of my pocket. I flipped it open to look at the texts I had ignored. They were all from the Protectorate hero. "Hey, I know Stalker can be a lot, she just has a hard time admitting she's grieving." "I understand if you need some space to process. Give me a call when you're ready to go over the rest of what I know, here's my number." "Just checking in, wanted to see how you were doing. Text back when you can."

It was all polite and understanding. Even his words about Shadow Stalker made sense in hindsight. She had been abrasive, but she had also been more emotional in response to Assault's words than I had ever heard her before. Was it just an act? I felt stupid for not even considering it, and Assault had told me about it a week ago if I hadn't ignored the text. I let the phone drop and studied the Ward in question, barely visible as she moved to place her hands on either side of the body's head once the arm she had been working on disappeared.

"How long have you been doing this?" I found myself asking her.

She did pause for a second and look up at me, taking a second to consider before responding to me. "Fucking up Nazi's like this asshole? I was an indie hero for about a year. Then the PRT caught me and forced me into the Wards last summer. Slowed me down with their 'non-lethal' bullshit." Her work on the head seemed to go faster, though that might have been because there was considerably less mass to remove than there had been with the limbs. She seemed a little reluctant to finish her work, and I tried to avoid focusing on the ragged looking dismembered torso on the ground between us. In the darkness, I could pretend it was just a very wet pile of trash. "Look. The first time I killed a Nazi…I get that it sucks. But you did what you had to do. World's definitely better off without him. You know what they say about dead Nazis, right?"

Despite how unsteady I felt, I got where she was going. "They're the only good kind?"

"Right." I could almost hear a smile in her voice, and even with how fucked up the night had been, I felt a little bit lighter. Shadow Stalker finally moved on to the body and began concentrating. With the way her hands were laid and she was kneeling next to it, it almost looked more like she was praying over the corpse than disposing of evidence.

She seemed to struggle with getting rid of this last piece. It made sense, since it was much larger than what she had been working with previously, but once the darkness spread past a certain point. It seemed to get exponentially slower.

In a bid to break the awkward silence that was left by her work, I decided to ask what I had actually meant with the previous question. "What about Psyren? How long have you been doing that?"

"I dunno, December," she replied, distractedly. I thought about that, leaning back against the dumpster behind me. That would have been before the locker. Before I had even gotten the card, probably. How long before that had she gotten hers? She had been a Ward, so it seemed strange that she hadn't just turned the card into them for the reward. Maybe it had been a much quicker turnaround time for her than it had been for me, then. I tried to imagine it.

Finally Shadow Stalker managed to affect the entire torso and it dissolved into more smoke, filtering unnaturally into Shadow Stalker's hovering clouds. She stood up, her arms folded, as she continued to examine where the body had been. There was still a pool of blood on the pavement.

"Grab some of the trash bags," the Ward said as she moved to follow her own instructions. There were bags of garbage scattered around the alleyway where they had fallen out of the dumpster when Hookwolf had thrown it. "Bury it in the trash and the blood will dry out before they find it. With the fucked-up dumpster, they'll think there was a bad hit-and-run that someone covered up. It'll barely make anyone's radar."

It was a few minutes' work to rearrange the detritus of the alley to look like it had all just spilled out of the dumpster. We looked over our work to make sure there weren't any blood splatters missed, and then we said our goodbyes and made to part ways for the night. I knew I was ready to just collapse on my bed and not think of any of this, and I didn't know how long she had been patrolling before she had found me. She stopped me before I could entirely leave, though.

"Hey," she said, pinning me in place with a serious look. "Don't beat yourself up about this. Remember what Assault said, about Psyren. It's going to be hard, but I know the both of us will make it. 'Cause we're survivors. You did what you had to to survive, got it?"

She accepted my nod and left. I tried to keep her words in mind as I made my way home.

***********​

I studied the phone in my hand, trying to will myself to do what I knew I needed to. After spending half the morning trying to put it off, I had run out of excuses. I could probably think of more if I really tried, but I knew this was important. Instead of dialing, I let me head rest against the cool brick at my back.

Even now, last night felt like a nightmare. I had spent some time this morning watching the news, paranoid that there would be a manhunt, or at least some sign that Hookwolf had died. There hadn't been anything obvious, but that hadn't reassured me. Even if we had left enough evidence to figure out what happened, no one would have found it yet. And even once they did find it, would they say anything? It depended on who found out, I supposed.

Trying to distract myself even further, I let myself focus on the weaving going on a few feet away from me. I had a few dozen weavers now, and there were already a handful of egg sacs in the little individualized terrariums I had put together. Now I just need to wait for them to hatch. In the meantime, I was having the few remaining weavers I had left get started on my gloves. They would be finicky to get fitting right, even with the patterns I had found online.

The thought of the gloves brought the pain in my hand up stronger than it had been before. When I woke up this morning, the hand I had used to tase Hookwolf had been swollen and red. That had been another of my distractions this morning, trying to look up signs and figure out if I had broken anything or if I was just badly bruised. I had concluded that it wasn't broken based on the fact that I seemed to still have the full range of motion, even if it hurt a lot to try it. I had just decided to wrap it up in bandages to maintain pressure on it as well as hide the specifics from my dad if he noticed it. I could probably just say I accidentally shut the door on it if I had to. I had been icing it off and on since breakfast.

With dad out at work, the weaving started, and all of my most obvious worries at least checked, I was drawn back to the phone in my left hand. I flipped it open. Given I had decided to stay in the basement while doing the weaving, I had half hoped that the phone wouldn't have enough signal to make the call. But it was showing a connection to the towers. Maybe the PRT had included enough tinkertech that the radio waves could get through the brick and earth down here. Regardless, my last excuse proved ineffectual.

I spun my thumb over the dial to put in the number from the text Assault had sent. It was a bit clumsy in my off hand, but I was able to enter it in after two false starts. I hovered over the key to make the call, trying to work myself up.

I pressed down almost before I had made the conscious decision to do so. When I brought the phone up to my ear, it rang once, twice, three times, then there was a click.

"Hello, this is Assault's direct line. How can I help you?" It was Ethan's voice on the other end.

I took a deep breath to steady myself. "This is Taylor, from the diner earlier. I'm ready to learn about Psyren."

---

Author's Note: ​

​

Whoops, sorry I missed my planned posting time of last week. To make up for it, have this chapter on what was supposed to be an off week. I'll post another chapter next week as part of the normal schedule. I am approaching the end of my backlog, so I'll have to figure out what I want to do from there.​

 

[CrossHope]

At last, Taylor decides to actually bother asking someone about this new stuff without running off like a scared chipmunk! Progress!

Now we just have to get her to de-esclate more.... or at all.

 

[Omniatrix]

Max Anders had never enjoyed visiting the various dive bars and fighting rings Brad had run his people out of. It wasn't just the disrepair or the smell, though those were both nearly ubiquitous and objectionable. If that was the only source of his irritation, he could look past it.

This particular ring was an exceptional example, as it apparently hosted the kennels used for dogfights. It meant that in addition to the constant smell of shit and unwashed animal, there was the barking and howling and whining echoing from the bay doors across the repurposed warehouse. It was a small mercy that Brad had built his office on the opposite side of the ring from where the dogs were stored, as it allowed them some privacy and a modicum of distance from the reeking place.

The office space currently contained more people than Max expected Brad had intended to ever host here, given its size and lack of chairs. Even in this private space, he had settled for the bare bones: old filing cabinets, a battered dining table for a desk, and folding chairs everywhere but the one behind the desk. Max would have taken that one himself, but his suit of armor was so heavy it required a reinforced seat, so he had made one for himself while he waited for the examination to conclude.

No, Max could accept the discomfort, the inconvenience, the smell, the grime, all of it. What really irked him was the pettiness. It was an unpleasant reminder of a version of his Empire that was far less than what he had made it. It was the remnants of the dirty, bloody street gang more focused on leg-breaking than income streams that Allfather had guided. It was the vision of the future that his sister had championed before her disappearance. For all Max knew that establishments like these were the backbone of their street presence, he couldn't help but wish for something better, something grander from the people who worked under him.

Max kept himself still, even as he watched James' man finish pulling paperwork and cash out of the gun safe near the door. His eyes were shaded by his helm, so the stillness would be read by the targets of his ire as a steady, unblinking gaze. He only moved again when the reedy looking man passed the briefcase full of paperwork to James himself before moving to the computer at Max's side on the desk. He picked up the computer tower entirely and handed that to James as well, who was able to carry it in his one free hand. His task finished, he left the room without a word, leaving James and Max alone with Brad's two lieutenants.

"Now," he said, "explain again what Brad told you the evening before his disappearance."

Melody was clearly unhappy with the brusque treatment, but from the few times Max had interacted with her directly he knew that she was rarely happy. Importantly, though, she didn't talk much, so he wouldn't have to worry about disciplining her for insubordination or the like. Adam was the one to respond to his order.

"We said before: it was that job you sent him on. He wouldn't say much about it. Just that it was big, and you were keeping a tight lid on it. That we'd be fucked if it ever came back on us."

This was indeed what they had told him before. Max was not particularly pleased with the recounting of events, though. He stood up, keeping his movements sedate. The two of them had been pit-fighters before he had recruited Brad, and he didn't want to trigger their fight responses.
Given their background, it would put them too much in their element. Instead, he just used the size his armor leant him as a more subtle accent to his displeasure.

"Clearly, you misunderstand my question. Repeat to me, word for word, if possible, what Hookwolf said when you last saw him. What did he do? In as much detail as you can recall."

From the hardening of their eyes and the rapid tensing and untensing of their limbs, Adam and Melody were feeling the pressure as Max had intended. This was good, because they couldn't be allowed to think more clearly about the line of questioning itself.

"Right, right," Adam said, through clearly gritted teeth. "Wasn't much he did unusual. Left the fights early, but he didn't always stay for all the dogfights. Got a call." He hesitated, clearly trying to remember the specifics before he spoke. "Guess the call was why he left the fights. He came back and said he got a job and not to wait up. Those were the words."

Melody added something, but it was in a low enough voice that Max couldn't understand it, especially with the damage to her throat. It sounded to him like a particularly vocal cough. Adam could clearly interpret it, though.

"Right," he said, "Cricket asked if he wanted us to come with, for the job. He said no, it was hush-hush. Then he took the bike out. Didn't see him again after that."

Max wanted to reach out and hit the two of them for not seeing how suspicious their apparent conversation had been. Brad had never been someone Max would have tapped for the hush-hush missions. Nearly anyone else would have been a better choice. Yet neither of them had thought it odd. He had to fight to keep his voice even when he asked, "did he often tell you about these 'hush-hush' assignments?"

There was a glance between the two of them before Adam answered, "Nah. Maybe once or twice before."

Max studied the two of them hard. He usually had worked with them through Brad, so he didn't have the experience to read their feelings through their masks. It would have to do. He only hoped that one of the two of them would be competent enough to keep Brad's business operating until he could find someone else to fill the role. He didn't think he would get anything out of the two of them for now. "Alright. If you recall anything else important, please let me know." That said, he began to make his way out of the office, gesturing for James to follow him with the paperwork and the computer in either hand.

Before he got all the way to the door, he was stopped by a harsh, "wait," from Melody. He paused and turned deliberately to her in case she had anything worthwhile to say.

"Northeast. Bike went northeast," she got out, her voice a rasping tone that put Max's teeth on edge.

Still, he could respect the additional information she had given him. He nodded and finally left.

***********​

Max was able to contain his frustration until James had gotten them on the road.

"Who was Brad taking orders from?" he asked through gritted teeth, peeling his helm away from his face with his power so James could see his expression.

James had always displayed a talent for keeping cool under his displeasure, which tended to annoy Max in the moment. He knew he would appreciate his subordinate's professionalism once he had cooled down, though.

In this case, James barely took his eyes off the road, turning his head so Max could make out his face in profile. He had taken off his costume's gas mask and set it on the passenger seat beside him, as the tinted windows of the car would prevent anyone from recognizing either of them. "We will have Mr. Schneider go through Mr. Meadows' treasury. The files we recovered should show us how often he undertook these under-the-table requests.

"It wasn't any of your people?" Max asked, his eyes narrow. He didn't actually believe James' contacts would have circumvented Max's own leadership like that; in the decades he had been running his Empire, they had always shown the respect of going through James formally for any requests. It wouldn't do to let them grow complacent, though, so he had to at least entertain the idea.

"Absolutely not," James replied immediately. "Contact overseas has always gone through me, and I have received nothing requiring the assistance of Hookwolf. He would be a poor agent for covert action, as well, given his abilities and predilections. I'll admit some surprise that anyone approached him for extracurricular work, as it were, at all."

That was true. Brad was, when it came down to it, a blunt instrument, whose skills largely amounted to variations upon raw violence. Any sort of subterfuge would have been better handled by almost anyone else, including Brad's own subordinates.

That wasn't even touching on what it took to suborn him. "Are we aware of any human Masters in the area that could be related?" Max asked. "Brad may not have started as a part of the movement, but he was as loyal to the Empire as anyone."

James took a moment to respond. "Not in Brockton Bay. In Boston, perhaps. One in the Teeth, but they're lying low with the disappearance of the Butcher. Rumors of another one involved with that maskless group, but the rumors have been around for decades and they've never revealed anything conclusive. At the very least they're unlikely to have made a move here. Nothing that seems likely."

"Someone new on the scene, then?"

"Perhaps as a first appearance. We will put the word out to be alert to the possibility." James hesitated again. "It may not have been a cape. A large enough cash incentive might have gotten Mr. Meadows to take on additional work, particularly if it wasn't contrary to the Empire's purposes."

That was along the same lines Max had been thinking too. "Northeast of his fighting ring - that neighborhood isn't one of ours, is it? It's something of a ghetto."

James nodded. "That's right. Perhaps an attack of some kind."

"And it would have been the perfect place to set up an ambush, especially if he had worked through this contact before." With that in mind, the culprit seemed almost obvious. Lots of money, working subtly. "That mercenary group downtown, what was the name of the mastermind?"

"Coil. It would certainly fit the profile."

Max acknowledged the words with a hum.

The problem with coming to this conclusion, however, was that it left him with few options for retaliation. It had been an extremely clever move. Brad had been the Empire's most obviously dangerous cape since Kayden had gone off on her own. He was a public figure in the gang, too, and people would begin asking questions if he didn't make appearances in the next week or so. Assuming he didn't reappear again, losing Hoookwolf would be a major blow to the morale of the rank-and-file members no matter what Max did.

Against anyone else, Max would simply rouse the rabble against the offender and let the violence spill out into the street. But that wouldn't be possible against Coil's mercenaries. They didn't have any obvious physical presence even in the small area of downtown nominally held by them, so there would be nowhere to attack. He didn't doubt that they would melt away at any attempt to exact their pound of flesh. And if they did manage some sort of offensive, it would be a show of violence right in the middle of downtown. Max preferred to keep the bloody parts of their work away from the people of any actual relevance in the city and confined to the back streets, so as to allow as many to pretend they didn't exist as were willing.

Worse, admitting that Coil's mercenaries had ambushed and killed the strongest of them would leave all of his capes looking over their shoulders for the knife in the dark, and the paranoia would be the perfect situation to enact further subterfuge. It would be playing directly into this other cape's hand. Oh yes, Max saw how this was supposed to go, and he could respect his opponent's ability. They would need to keep a closer eye on this mastermind. But for now, the Empire would need to be occupied with something else.

And, in a burst of sudden inspiration, Max realized he knew just the thing. He had already begun pulling the resources needed from James' contacts overseas, and he had been working out plans for how to take advantage of the intelligence they had fed him. It would be a tight turnaround, but this would be a perfect opportunity.

His decision made, Max leaned back in his seat. "When we get back to Medhall, get me an appointment with my custody lawyer. With Brad gone, we can no longer afford to allow Kayden free reign."

"Of course. And for the issue with Mr. Meadows?"

"Track down his motorcycle and be prepared to move it at my say. Get a team you trust to find us a body. A heroic assault against the dragon."

That at least brought James pause. "And what will the story be for Miss Jurist and Mr. Brown?"

Max allowed himself a small smile. "The same. We can give them a few more details. Perhaps he was assaulting one of their casinos when Lung found him. An unexpected attack on their cash flow deep in their territory would be reason enough for the secrecy."

James still seemed a little bit hesitant, so Max gave him a hint. "Be sure to hurry with that body. We'll need to make the announcement this Friday. We'll need to be ready for this weekend, won't we?"

That was enough to clue James in, and his eyes widened as he looked back at Max directly. Max just met his eyes until James turned them back to the road, accelerating to get them back to Medhall faster. That would be good; Max had a lot he needed to do over the next five days.

After all, conquering a city in a weekend wouldn't be easy.

---

Author's note:​

As you might expect, this is the end of arc 1. I still have a few chapters left in my backlog, so I'll try to keep up my every-other-week schedule. I will probably stop for the month of November, as I plan to focus most of my NaNoWriMo on an original story, but we'll see if I have enough to continue afterwards. ​

 

[Omniatrix]

Just a quick heads-up - I am on vacation and don't have reliable enough wi-fi to do final edits on the chapter. I will probably post it next week and restart the every-other-week schedule from there. Sorry about that!