Remove ads

[Worm AU] Cogito Ergo Lung : I Think, Therefore I Am Dragon

Reader mode
'Khepri' is basically a shard-based mental construct that remembers being Khepri, rather than actually Khepri, and because it remembers being Khepri rather than Taylor, it remembers (at least partially) being QA as well. Which lets Lung's shard employ it for shenanigans.
 
Neruz said:
'Khepri' is basically a shard-based mental construct that remembers being Khepri, rather than actually Khepri, and because it remembers being Khepri rather than Taylor, it remembers (at least partially) being QA as well. Which lets Lung's shard employ it for shenanigans.
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
That is exactly what I meant, yes.
 
This story is fantastic, I'm loving the interactions between Lung and Lee as well as the entire Armsmaster arc especially how he is now forced into Cauldron WITH THE DAMN SHIRT. can't wait to see what exactly Pearl did the Amy next chapter.
 
While it doesn't match my headcanon of Lung, this is one of the most well thought out, unique, and entertaining Worm stories I've read in years. Please keep up the excellent work.
 
I absolutely adore this story!

Thank you so much for writing and sharing this with us all Steve!

Please could you tell us what other sites this Fic is available on, just in case "something" happens here on SV?
 
amimai said:
The Me : I wonder when Cogito Ergo Lung will update?
The Steve : updates
The Me : The Steve does love me! Praise the Steve!

I really was hankering for another chapter yesterday, and you have delivered wonderfully. Also isn't the scales shard going overboard? O gods ITS BEEN INFECTED BY QAs HALPING, WE ARE ALL DOOMED!!!
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
I wonder TaylorQA could fix oni lee by chatting up his shard.
 
BrendenHawley said:
I wonder TaylorQA could fix oni lee by chatting up his shard.
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
My my, how suggestive...

QA: [FLIRT]​
Duplex: [...]​
QA: [FLIRT WINK NUDGE]​
Duplex: [Annoyance]​
QA: [FLIRT WINK NUDGE NOM]​
Duplex: [...]​
QA: [DATA!]​
Duplex: [6675636b]​
QA: [Agreement]​
​
"fuck" in hexidecimal
 
This is a really great story. I've seen a lot of interesting Lungs here over the years, but it's very hard to find one that I'd call complex. Not a lot of stories spend a lot of attention on his past, given that you have to pretty much invent it wholesale.
 


Hokay, dust has settled, and pain has somewhat abated. Got a rough chapter done, it's in the battery cage, and after some polish and we get all the blood and mucous off, it'll be ready for consumption here.
 
The story is very confusing but still interesting. I was wondering why the last story post was in page 5.
 
What was the point of renaming the Ghost Taylor as Pearl when that name never gets used? Like the internal narration and everything else uses Taylor after the fact still, and than there's that other Taylor too.

Ps. Taylors' ghost being separated because lungs arm got cut off seriously broke my SOD for duration of the scene, it even remained broken after the rational for why it worked like that was given. It doesn't make sense considering originally it was described that lungs brain got enhanced via scales to accommodate Taylors addition to it, additionally the nervous system got converted too so even if the brain got blown he could still function enough to regrow them mind. Now instead of that it's some sort of power nodes inside the body and than acting as if they're not directly connected to the shard even tho that's where they originate?
 
Last edited:
@Edifier What use is the name Skitter when Taylor is so often used? Answer, because it demotes Taylor the power of Lung. Do not worry, it will be used soon. *EDIT* Thanks Orlin
As for the separation, you must note that Lung's brain only gets enhanced proper when it leaves his meat form, it's only mildly enhanced in his idling Brute 4 state. And the gates are tiny areas similar to Hookwolf's where flesh gets drawn in as scale gets pushed out. And where did his nervous system get enhanced? Only really when he fought Battery enhanced did he do that.

Do recall that Lung is meat unless escalating normally, otherwise spiders to the groin and all wouldn't actually have done what they have done.
 
Well, I'm still hoping Pearl/Ghost Taylor eventually gets her own body. [/my broken record]
 
I actually read it as more of a... mental stamp Lung likes to put on things. He names something and that gives him the feeling that he has control over it, which is something that is currently in rather short supply in his life.
 
Remove ads
1.21 かんぜんちょうあく (kanzen-chōaku)
  • Threadmarks
    • Cogito Ergo Lung
    I think, therefore I am dragon
    ____________________________________________________________________________________​

    It was like a dream, one of the lucid ones I sometimes get thanks to the ether, like it was a real thing just behind a paper-thin barrier.
    I watched from what felt like a back row seat in a movie theater, and there was someone in front of me, doing the same thing. Watching.

    I watched things grow, crates break, a speech I'm fairly certain foisted from a book I have never read in my life, and a problem solved.

    At least I think it was solved, and that I was the crucible involved... but it was just a dream, right?

    Right?

    ---===---​

    I awoke in the ruined room in the center of the warehouse, broken concrete, melted metal, and ash.

    Pretty typical for me, on the bad days.

    Normal people had benders, I had... burners, for lack of better term.

    Taylor inside was silent, but I wasn't worried that she was gone. It'd be the act of an utter moron to destroy her, and more importantly, of no benefit.

    But the trail of destruction did not END with me, as it usually did, oh no.
    It came FROM me.

    Time to explore.
    Assess the damage I'd caused.
    Madly improvise and make it look like it was all part of a master plan.

    Now, where are my pants?

    ---===---​

    No pants. Ah well, it's not like they matter if you are the only one awake.

    There was Lee, healed, asleep.
    And if my dream was correct, stitched back together on the inside.

    And next to him, trapped in a vaguely reptilian skull, was Amelia. Also unconscious.

    At least I think it was Amelia, Amy, Miss Dallon, Panacea.
    And she was breathing, I heard only one heartbeat, and she was only drooling a little bit.

    Far better than most of my altercations have gone in life, heck, in this very day.
    I had been a giant fucking robot for a little bit there! Still had to process that.

    I pulled her out and placed her next to Lee.

    I strode towards the 'office' by the main vehicular entrance, where most of the men would relax and keep their food. My lair was the small cluster of rooms in the dead center of the warehouse, an unusual addition which is why I chose this one to be my primary.

    Ah, good. The phone was still there.

    Now, thoughts on tonight.
    Pretty fucked up. If losing my home was a ten, and the Yangban pit an eight, this had to be a seven, seven-and-a-half.

    I hope we can salvage this place. I liked it here.

    All told, I think I'm going to keep the giant skull, the gang needed more than just colors now.
    Let people wonder where it came from, and why I had it.

    As I gingerly dialed Jin's number, I glanced over at Lee's appointment book and flipped it open.

    Right...

    People all day today.

    ---===---​

    I wanted to sleep, but I'd slept enough thanks to Lee's hand grenades. Not that concussion induced sleep was good for a person, but it was often the only kind I got in a week.

    Still, if not sleep, then relax in a chair and think, have a couple cases of beer, it's not like I'd have to piss anything out.
    Nothing ever came out of me except fire and blood.

    One more thing tonight.

    I had Joshua, the lead Filipino, drive me to the location as Jin was busy ferrying the others about.

    And, as an excellent test, I'd have him pick her up after dropping me off.
    If he survived, he may go far.

    ---===---​

    "The 'Azn Bad Boys' is a shit name," Bakuda said.

    I didn't react, I just stared at her, which I knew would make her uncomfortable. My gaze did that with nearly everybody.

    "Just saying." She was probing, trying to see the edges of Lung.

    Do I follow the script? I had one for her, before Taylor, before all the changes when I'd made that phone call.
    "It was deliberate." A tiny shift. "And that's one."

    "See, that's what I don't get. You're a badass, fine. You tested the waters, took on a whole team of local heroes, and you walked away. Right?"

    "Yes. I fought them all." Another shift. "Two."

    She hesitated at the counting I was doing, but bullied on. "Except you've got all this power, and what do you have to show for it?"

    I sighed. "Three. And you fail."

    I stood, and her hand snapped to the small of her back. Joshua was supposed to frisk her, but she'd be a moron not to expect it, and build a bomb that was both flat and hard to notice.

    "What the fuck! Fail what?" The words stung her, as I knew they would. How many Asian teenagers had joined because of the pressures placed upon them by their parents, ones doubled and redoubled thanks to the immigration both legal and not? I wouldn't be surprised if half the Asians who triggered didn't hear the word 'fail' a moment before it happened.

    "Your chance at leadership. I even gave you three tries, most do not get that."

    I took a step towards her and she flinched, and my ears hear her fingers dance on metal and plastic.
    "You only asked one real question in all of that, and yet you didn't even ask the correct one." I rumbled, letting my eyes glow as I was wont to do. "'Why is the Azn Bad Boys named so?' would have been a good question to ask, as would 'why do all the local heroes choose not to fight me?'. And your only real question 'what do I have to show for it?' when you've had the chance to examine what I had in place in Boston, to pull you out of there." My body language radiated the frown that was hidden behind my mask. "Foolish."

    "Stay the fuck back! I'll-"

    "Oni-Lee, do it." I nodded smugly.

    Her eyes widened and she whirled while bringing something small to smash against the chest of a man... who wasn't even there.

    Ah, my friend. Even without saying a word to most people, your reputation and the fear it brings never ceases to be useful.

    I closed the gap and enveloped her almost in a parody of a hug, my hand trapping the credit-card shaped explosive in between her fingers.
    I didn't burn her, I didn't want to risk setting off an explosive, though I knew I was unpleasantly warm, my minimum idling temperature.

    "You are terrible with fear, yet so addicted to it," I rumbled, letting my jaw rest upon her hair. "Why else would you threaten the university?"

    "I make bombs genius!" She snarled, struggling in my grip. "I don't do subtle."

    Speaking of which, best to deal with that.
    I spun her around abruptly, keeping her pressed to my chest. I could crush her, burn her, and likely be too close to have anything detonate as long as I kept control of her hands. I traced a finger down the back of her shirt, making her shudder, and finding no hiding spot, not even behind the bra strap.

    Wait, there was no strap at all. I don't know why I found that amusing, but part of me did.

    My finger went lower, down the small of her back, to just above her skirt and ah, behind the belt, no, built inside it as well. Clever.
    A show of force then, before we continued.

    ---===---​

    Crushed to his chest like she was, Bakuda felt the hands reach behind her, and tear the metal belt and her leather skirt like it was cardboard and tissue paper.

    She heard the metallic whine start to build up rapidly.

    "Don't! It'll-" was all she got out before she was spun and an arm flung belt and skirt hard against the wall. No, through the wall.

    The dozen bombs she had braided around her waist detonated in the next room, not with a bang, but with a hiss of cascading molecular decarbonizations, leaving her with the last one in her hands. One she kept flat against her palm.

    It wasn't primed yet, a flick of a finger on the short edge would do that, but without the belt to stabilize it, it'd go off in fifteen minutes regardless.

    She found herself in the air, before landing on a couch with enough force to push it until it banged against the wall.

    "Sit," Lung rumbled. "And listen. I've had a long day."

    ---===---​

    And it had been a long long fucking day. Meeting Taylor at Winslow, the first fight in front of Winslow, the second, the third, being a Giant Robot, escape, a bus ride, a truce, a performance, a weaving, a forging, and now an interview.

    And people thought that Lung just sat there and did nothing all day.

    "I would have brought you here in back in March to talk, but things came up." An unexpected advance from both the Empire88 and the Merchants in the same week had forced a lot of mobilization and manpower shuffling. "And things would have gone differently."

    Bakuda looked like she wanted to say something, but with only a single bomb in her hands, in her underwear from the waist down, in front an angry gang leader, for once she kept her mouth shut.

    Said gang leader pointed to the right of her at the couch she was sprawled upon. "There would have been two prostitutes, on both sides of that couch, and several men downstairs."

    She blinked. "Oohkay?"

    "They would have shown you indulgence, apathy, and I would have talked to you about fear, and the control it brings. Control you lacked your entire life no doubt."

    That had her eyes narrow and her fingers clench on the bomb.

    "It's not uncommon, especially with the mass immigration both legal and illegal." Lung went on. "The pressure Asian parents only increased when you were competing with third world refugees. And I would use it and the fact that we are both of mixed blood to forge a commonality."

    "I don't think you're supposed to tell me th-"

    "And you would have accepted." He overrode her, then strode over and sat down next to her. "And it would all go wrong from there."

    ---===---​

    Discoveries sucked balls.

    They were the lifeblood of the legal process, yes, but they were tedious to the extreme. Boxes of paper, gigs of emails, filing cabinets being wheeled in on carts.
    All of it had to be gone over, reams and reams and reams.
    Today was a long night, the first of likely many.
    Such was the life of a lawyer.

    Carol sighed and cracked her neck as she kicked off her shoes, she'd put them up after she'd had her evening coffee. Or, more likely, Vicky or Amy would come home and put them up for her.

    She heard water running, the sink.

    Someone was home.

    ---===---​

    Bakuda suspected that she was seeing something extremely rare at the moment. Whether it was fatigue, the absolute madness she'd heard on the little portable radio that the old woman next to her had let her borrow on the long bus ride to Brockton Bay while she knitted, or something unknown, but at this moment Lung's guard seemed down. His elbows rested on his knees, his fingers loosely intertwined together.

    "You would have seen a gang leader seemingly wasting his time, one powerful enough to use as a meatshield to hide behind and one who would have granted you the purpose and the control you've craved since you were little, and the fear you wanted now."

    The man sighed, looking worn and tired. When his eyes closed her fingers silently went to the trigger line of her bomb.

    Could she-
    "Don't." He didn't open his eyes. "I've left you only one chance so you'd listen, don't waste it."

    "Enhanced senses in general or some sort of danger sense?" Bakuda asked, surprised at how calm she felt, so close to her death.

    "Both, depending on the moment."

    So, to surprise him, it'd either have to be a weapon that wasn't threatening until the very last instant, or one that interfered with powers... Thinker Chaff?

    "And now you're considering how best to kill me, and how soon." His voice wasn't surprised, it wasn't anything really, just fatigue and rumble. "A word to the wise: This is not your university, and I am not a Hero following laws. One attack- one threat- and I'll put you among the things that were."

    ---===---​

    Victoria Dallon, doing the dishes.
    Was it Tuesday already or was she sulking from her date?

    She had changed out of her pretty -and expensive- dress that she had endlessly pestered that she simply had to have. Hmm, she'd done her hair as well, curling it, which was quite the chore with her forcefield.

    So, that meant the date had either gone very well, or...

    Well, it was Vicky, she wouldn't hesitate to talk the ear off of anyone nearby, even Panacea, if he'd been anything but a gentleman. The energy tomahawk wasn't just a humorous threat.

    And with that, she tiredly made her way towards the living room, where a comfortable sofa -and a nice bit of wine- was waiting.

    ---===---​

    "You see, you were a means to an end," Lung rumbled, looking at her for the first time in many minutes.

    Of course she was, that's sort of the point of Supervillains and gangs and all that shit.

    Her confusion must have been all over her face as Lung raised a hand tiredly to interject before she'd started.
    "Not just like that, but because you were Asian, which wouldn't startle anyone, and more importantly, you were an outside asset." He paused and chose his words carefully. "You should have worked out by now that my influence is larger than just a small gang in Brockton Bay, correct?"

    Had she? There was what had happened in Boston, yeah, but wait... for them to be able to do what they did, from the valedictorian down no less, that meant they had to have an existing system already there and-

    "You fucked me over!" The conclusion was obvious.

    "Yes," Lung said with a slight smile on his lips. "You are indeed smart enough to have worked out for the position I had for you."

    "The bombs were one thing, but thanks to her, that's kidnapping, and attempted murder with my costume on her." Her voice wasn't a shriek, but it was loud. And angry.

    "Any decent lawyer could get most Tinker devices downplayed as diminished mental capacity due to Parahuman Commencement, aka. The 'Triggering' defense." Lung nodded casually, as if he hadn't ruined her life by helping her. "Especially if you could be used against the Endbringers. But with those extra actions, you had premeditation and intent."

    "Three strikes..." College had those as well for frats and parties. "And-"

    "You are mine now," Lung finished for her. "Just as I said."

    ---===---​

    The meeting was over, there was work to be done.

    Well, for them, she had time in 'the slam' still.

    Miss Militia stretched her arms and got out of the seat, then started some basic calisthenics.
    Just because she didn't need to sleep didn't mean she couldn't rest her body.

    In the morning, if she was in a good mood, she'd ask for her paperwork to be forwarded to the dumbterminal and spare poor Colin at least a little bit.

    After a particular stretch, her thigh twinged, where Lung's spikes had gripped her.
    Just because she didn't need to clean or maintain a gun didn't mean she didn't know how to take care of herself.

    And with that, she went to the toilet, drew the privacy curtain around it, and checked her bandages.

    And wondered.

    ---===---​

    "You see;" Lung had turned from his slouch on the sofa and was facing her directly, "Lee, Oni Lee, was deteriorating rapidly. He had less than a year at best, and far less at the worst. My best estimate was sometime in June, the way things were going."

    Could she kill him and not die in the process?

    "And so, you were recruited for two things; Your Tinkering, and to assist and support Lee when I was unable to."

    The blast area was very precise, easy to step back from, but on her spot on the couch, could she move back far enough?

    "Your weapons and his clones would have been a massive magnifier of threat, strong enough to bring the entire city to it's knees."McPoopin!

    Activate and flick it, like those games the fratboys played with playing cards? It might not look like an attack...

    "So much so, that it would have called the Leviathan, and I could keep my promise at last."

    Maybe by his foot and-

    Wait... what was that?

    "What did you just say?"

    ---===---​

    The dishes were slowly getting done -they had to be done slowly when it was Vicky's turn, and the news on the TV was as dreadful as always.

    Even more so with that giant green robot in front of that school, the fights, the explosions, and the people hurt.

    But the wine helped.

    On the positive, that was more they owed New Wave for the healing, and with all the gangs undoubtedly gaining confidence, there was no way that someone wouldn't try something. And New Wave could be there.

    Hell, she might even get out of the discovery work if things got hectic enough.

    Allan owed her a couple favors after all. It might even take his mind off his missing girl. Especially if she could get some information in trade for him.

    The pots and pans were being put away as she texted a message to Sarah, hashing out proposed routes and patrols.

    ---===---​

    "Yes, I know how to coax the Leviathan. I puzzled it out while fighting him." He hesitated and corrected himself. "It. It sought things out, and all I've done thus far is to prepare the stage for my final promise."

    The implications of his words were maddening, impossible, yet somehow didn't seem out of place.

    "And, with the last flickers of my friend in my hands, I would hurl him at the Leviathan until they went out. Using your bombs, endlessly replicated."

    It was not a boast to him, merely fact.

    "It wasn't my wish, but his." Lung went on calmly. "I've faced that thing, he had not, and it is not something I would enjoy doing once again."

    "But a promise-" He smiled sadly. "-is a promise. And until very recently it was the last promise he was able to ask for."

    Anger was forgotten, rage and skepticism discarded as useless byproducts of their meeting tonight.

    There was only one real question now.

    How could she get such a promise?

    The smile faded, and there was only irritation.

    "But, as I said, it would all go wrong from there."

    ---===---​

    She had dreamed, which was nearly impossible for her to do.

    Even unconscious, she generated no REM, no delta waves, no dreams. Not since that last and final one.

    One which Lung apparently had shared in, given his fiery performance in the park.

    But... how did he know that she knew?

    And what were those dreams?

    Her eyes closed, her mind drifted...
    ~~~~~
    Naked, exhausted, and cold, on a boat she had never been on in her life, watching a land that wasn't hers sink beneath the waves.
    Scales going away, inside her, yet not.
    Staring down the barrel of a cannon.
    So tired.
    ~~~~~
    Were these Lung's?
    ~~~~~
    Sore and achy, a stranger on a pockmarked land.
    Screaming and ranting in the background, and fire, but that last part wasn't new.
    Scales pushing under the skin, the fire starting to burn.
    Staring down the barrel of a different cannon. A tank this time.
    ~~~~~
    Were these Kenta's?
    ~~~~~
    A movie on the couch with Mom and Dad, one of those stupid war ones he liked so much.
    I shouldn't be allowed to watch it, but I had a school project and everything.
    That put pressure on Mom, who leaned on Dad, and we made a whole go of it, with some hot chocolate with the little marshmallows, and of course, lots of popcorn.
    I watched from my end of the couch while Mom and Dad snuggled on the other.
    The paper was on the coffee table, the pencil in my hands.
    But whose hands were these?
    ~~~~~
    Whose were they?
    ~~~~~
    Kaa-san and Tou-sama were yawning in their tea, but that didn't matter, I had to get ready.
    I checked my blue pajamas and the cape that had once been a table cloth before Kaa-san had made it my Hero Cape.
    I flicked the switch, and the tube warmed up.
    It was showtime!
    ~~~~~
    She shook with a twitch and blinked, then looked down at what should have been her pants around her ankles.

    ---===---​

    Bakuda was silent as Lung explained his defeat, which hadn't happened, and his eventual trip to the Birdcage.

    With herself in tow.

    "And once we got there, I found a final use for you," Lung said, almost bemused. "I'd tear you apart in front of the others, and find my place in the Birdcage."

    How did he know those events would happen? That was far too specific for anyone save a-

    "Thinker." She whispered silently under her breath.

    "Indeed." Not silent enough. "Were it not for Pearl, and what she provided me, that would have been how it would have been."

    "Pearl?" No way was that a person's name. Wait... what was it those Chinese dragons always had? "Your pearl?"

    "Ah, you get it." Lung looked pleased. "She is indeed my pearl, in all senses of the word."

    Great, competition.

    "Since that ain't happened," her brow furrowed as she tried to parse the temporal terms in her thick Boston accent. "Er, has been changed so it can't happen, I think? Anyway, that means you have different plans now." Her gaze met his as she toyed with the bomb in her hand. "Plans that don't involve splitting me in two and using my head as a ballpoint to sign your goddamn name, right?"

    "Correct." His amusement was back now. "I intend you to live at least until July now."

    "Hardy fucking har har."

    "I am serious." His smile and tone were unchanged, but the rumble has almost clinical, if that was possible. "After June, things will get... weird. And while I am going to do my best to make sure this city and everyone within it survives, I can make no promises."

    Promises, like the one she'd had with the Dean at the BU.
    She still remembered the taste in her mouth, the red school colors she knelt on, his hands on her head.
    That promise had been broken, and her rebuttal promise to the University at large had been foiled by the Heroes.
    But Lung had kept his...

    She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened her mouth.

    ---===---​

    There should have been her fatigues around her ankles, stylized ones tailored to her, but there wasn't. Nor was there her spats she wore in lieu of frilly underwear, as you never knew when you'd have to have a tourniquet applied to a bullet wound and there was no point in giving anyone a show.

    No, instead of either of those things there was her Flash King pajamas, green of course.

    She stood, grimaced slightly, and gingerly peered inside her pants, seeing a light green boys briefs with a hand-stitched bit of kanji she just knew said 'Kenta'. Letting those snap back into place she shifted her legs to be a bit more comfortable and then reached behind herself, touching her cape, feeling the table cloth just like she remembered.

    How was this possible? These weren't weapons, were they?

    At that rational thought, they vanished, and she found her pants around her ankles once more.
    And with that rational thought thought, her splayed legs snapped back together as the tough fabric of her real pants exerted just how real they were, and she nearly brained herself on the toilet seat trying to sit back down.

    Thankfully the privacy curtain prevented anyone from seeing that, she'd never be able to live it down.

    More practice, privately, would be needed.

    ---===---​

    "Absolutely not." Lung's harsh rumble was practically raking nails upon asphalt. He didn't cross his arms or shake his head, he didn't need to.

    "Look, I get it, you can't possibly trust me that far. But look at it this way." Her fingers were talking as much as her mouth was, Boston through and through. "I gotta have a reason to stick around, especially if I might die before the end of June."

    Lung truly had a face that could indicate immense disapproval.

    "And it doesn't have to be right away. I'll tell ya what, if I survive to say... the end of July, and I'm loyal throughout and after, no matter what shit you put me through, can I have that promise?"

    "Hmm." Lung's eyes were shrewd. "And if I say no?"

    "Then I say no." Her reply was flippant, almost insultingly so.

    "I can make you." His voice made that a fact.

    "You could... but then I'd be a Tinker with nothing but resentment, chafing under your rule." Her voice had gone from flippant to almost childish in its lilt. "Who knows what I might do when left alone?"

    Her suspicions about her slim chances at surviving Lung were confirmed when he destroyed his half of the couch in a lunge, claws reaching for her neck.

    ---===---​

    There were few good things that came from a divorce. A quiet house was one of them.

    Private time.

    Missy snagged the money left on the fridge and dialed the number she was long used to calling at this point.

    The phone rang twice, before being picked up on the third ring.

    "Lee's Chinese. Takeout or delivery?"

    Dinner taken care of, and some leftovers for tomorrow's breakfast and possibly lunch, depending on what was the special in the HQ chow hall, she could get started.

    Not on her homework, that could wait.

    ---===---​

    "And if I were to kill you here, now. What then?"

    The voice of Lung, this close, heard and felt in the vibrations of the large clawed fingers in an iron grip around her throat was easily going to be a memory that would be in her nightmares for weeks to come.

    But she could sleep when she was dead.

    "Then I would be, instead of you talking about it," she said, proud of how steady her voice was despite the pallor she no doubt had. "And then I would let go of this."

    She held up her final bomb, the slow whine of it building up.

    "It's live, and without the belt it will blow in a quarter of a second if I let go, fifteen with a one-second fuse otherwise."

    Her smile was a shaky ghastly thing, yet she felt more alive at this moment than at any other. "Eight seconds at my blink." She blinked and then stared into his bloodshot eyes.

    Seven seconds.

    Six.

    "You said I was a means to an end, past tense." Her gaze was trying to be stoic, but her grin was ruining it. "Three."

    Two.

    One.

    ---===---​

    "Boom," she whispered.

    Well, not a 'boom' exactly, more of a 'pop', but it was a start.

    And it was just a candle after all.

    While in Lung's grasp she'd seen it, just for an instant, him pushing minute amounts of fire through tiny channels of space. He was using his ability to control fire and her ability to control space to do both. Probably to figure out how her powers worked.

    And so she'd done the same. Lit the match, lead the flame to the candle, kind of neat how the light leaked out of the end of the twisted space. Not quite how Lung did it, but she couldn't actually do pyrokinesis.
    She'd already tested and was able to make tubes of air connect from a space outside a room letting her breath in smoke-filled areas, but that was as far as they went with that particular experiment.
    She knew why, it was because she was so young.

    Little.

    The team baby.

    And while all she practiced was bending space defensively, to deflect, confuse and ensnare, Aegis fought, and Gallant was awesome and fought, and Kid Win both fought and was building a cannon formerly in secret, and even Clockblocker briefly tested stopping a single piece of paper edgewise instead of flat.

    That had to change now.

    After hearing that old tape, they all agreed in the shower that they'd have to bust out the mean stuff, and practice where they weren't looking.
    Their family's lives were at stake. If not from Lung and what he knew, then from whomever made Sophia vanish. A Ward, gone. Licorice Purple.

    And not just her, there were others, who knew how many, but enough if Lung was investigating a school personally. That school Winslow had horrible records, there was no way to tell who was there and who wasn't. And it's not like Arcadia would announce someone vanishing, nor would Immaculata, people would panic and demand answers.

    Answers that the PRT didn't have.

    And so, her powers, offensively now.

    Sure, she couldn't affect the space within a person, or in water, and she couldn't cut someone with a folded bit of space, but that didn't mean she was helpless. She could shrink the space between the bits of air around the candle, make things burn faster and hotter, then relax and let space snap back with all this excess heat and very little air.

    It made a candle pop.

    But if Lung used fire.

    A much, much bigger pop.

    In the distance the doorbell rang, the Chinese food was here, quick as always.

    ---===---​

    For all that people said Lung was strong, he was precise as well.

    In that last second, when the bomb went from a quarter second detonation to the full second, aka. toss that fucking thing away mode, he tore it from her fingers and threw it in one motion at the window.
    Glass broke as the bomb went through and detonated, causing a decent part of the wall to decarbonize and crumble into dust.

    Neither of them had blinked or looked away from the other.

    "Fine."

    She blinked. It hurt, as her eyes were dry from the heat in the air.

    "Survive until July, do every task no matter how demeaning or dreadful I give you, harm no one under the banner of the ABB, and never let your loyalty to me and what is mine tarnish, and I shall grant you your promise." Lung's eyes went from bloodshot to literally burning in their sockets. "So swears Lung."

    Elation warred with the urge to collapse as the adrenaline was leaving her system. Her knees felt like rubber and Lung was likely the only thing holding her up.

    They were still close, too close. Almost as if...
    "Great," she mumbled. "You gonna let go now or... is that also part of the deal?"

    Lung to his credit took a couple seconds to process the intent behind the English, before his eyes widened and he started chuffing like a misfiring rocket and stepping back.

    "Hardly," he said as he got his amusement and flames under control. "You would not survive the process. If you have a moment, research the essay 'Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex' from 1969, then append the phrase 'and on fire' to it."

    Thankfully the room was quite warm thanks to Lung, or she'd probably be shivering in her current state.

    "And yes, before you ask, I do have a spare pair of pants you can borrow." He pointed to a battered and scarred dresser in the corner of the room. "Top drawer on the left."

    ---===---​

    The dishes were done, and yet Vicky wasn't coming out to talk. Something must have happened.

    A hero's work was never done.

    Carol strode in and placed her now empty glass on the island, noting of all things a tape measurer present. Had Mark been in one of his rare good moods and wanted to fiddle with the furniture again?

    "And, how did it go?"

    That should have been more than enough to get Vicky to start talking and possibly never stop.

    Thus when Vicky remained silent, Carol started to grow concerned.

    "Look, you can tell me, did he do anything untoward with you?"

    A personal forcefield didn't mean that one couldn't be harmed after all.

    When Vicky hunched over the sink and started to shake, Carol stepped in and wrapped her arms around her.

    "Whatever happened to you, it's all right," Carol whispered. "You came from me, so no matter what, I'll be there for you, my daughter."

    Finally, that got through to Vicky, and her shaking stopped as her hands came up to gently squeeze her arm.

    Flesh touched flesh, and not a forcefield. Behind her, she heard the back door open.

    "I'll hold you to that."

    ---===---​

    Lung and Bakuda were both driven back by Joshua in silence. Bakuda in the passenger seat, Lung sprawled in the back next to the supplies, fingers gently tapping against the metal of the van's door.

    Something had happened, Bakuda had new pants, and the building had strange new holes in it.

    But Joshua didn't say a word.
    He was new, but not stupid.

    "Tomorrow will be an interesting day," Lung said at last, voice a rumble that made the van shiver on the causeway.

    "Oh?" Bakuda replied, without turning to look. "You mean today wasn't?"

    "Today was unexpected, yes. But tomorrow will be interesting."

    "You were a giant robot today! I heard it on the bus ride here."

    "Yes. I was."

    Joshua was new, and he wasn't stupid.

    He very much did not see the silly grin on Lung's face under the mask from this angle.
    Nor would he ever mention the fact that he recognized the theme song that his leader was tapping with his fingertips.

    ---===---​

    Lee remained outside as the screaming started.

    Victoria had walked in, floated rather, and now part of the intense -and very loud- conversation.

    Most of the words didn't matter, except from one particular person.

    Mother. That was one word she said that transcended the noise.
    Sister. That was another.

    Gradually the volume decreased, but the intensity remained.
    The tone of the voice he was listening for had changed.
    From elation, to surprise, to shock, to sadness, and finally resignation.

    Carol. That the word used now, as was Victoria.

    And he still didn't know what to do.

    But he had to do something, right?
    Slit a throat? But whose?
    Throw a grenade? But where?

    The things he could still do, would they help?

    What to do?

    What to do?

    ---===---​

    It was unlikely he would have any sleep tonight. So much to do.

    The ride back to the warehouse was all the time he needed to recharge, the fire was burning within him once more, just under his heart.

    Looking at the damage proper, orders were given to the men.
    Repair this warehouse, get concrete freshly poured in the morning, shift the intact crates to another location and get them shipped, and prepare the abandoned garage west of their location to be a new Tinker Lab and multiple residences.

    And with that Lung strode off, heading to his own lair with a final and truly dire command.

    Under no circumstances was he to be disturbed until two in the afternoon at the earliest.

    By anyone, for any reason.
    On pain of death.
    By him.
    Personally.

    The lieutenants present nodded and bowed.
    Once in his lair, he carefully locked all the doors and closed all windows and curtains, then entered his soundproofed room. Enhanced senses made even the slightest noise difficult to sleep through, and white noise did only so much.

    Once inside, he carefully pushed the sturdy tungsten table to the corner of the small room, noting with approval that the box that Jin had brought a few days back was correctly where it was supposed to be.

    Then he laid upon the ground.

    And started rolling back and forth.

    "I was a Giant Robot!" His tone was one that his men had never heard from him, and if he had to kill half of Brockton Bay, it would stay that way.

    "In your face Shirabaku-Sensei! I totally did it! And amounted to something, unlike your sorry ass which amounted to fish food!"

    "I was a giant fucking robot! Ha ha!"

    He would continue this way for around fifteen minutes, until he got it entirely out of his system.

    And sang the theme song twice.

    ---===---​

    It was strangely comforting to Oni Lee that the answer was once again provided to him not from within, but from without.

    With a final sharp cry, the back door to the house slammed open, and the only woman who mattered burst out, running and weeping. Light from the house spilled out into the back yard as she ran, and with it she spied the man who was exactly where she left him, in the gloom by the back gate almost an hour ago.

    He knew he was supposed to do something when someone he loved was crying, but as always the answer eluded him.

    Still... he could take a step forward, right?
    When he did, and she ran and clung to him, he felt like he had made the right choice.

    "Take me away from here," Panacea rasped, throat dry from all the shouting and screaming she had done.

    By the time the real Victoria Dallon had flown out of the house they were gone.

    ---===---​

    The room was quiet save for the sounds of typing on keyboards.

    A man who was sometimes a dragon -and was once a giant robot- was doing battle one final time this night.

    With paperwork.

    The damage in the warehouse, the shifting of supplies, dealing with the blowout of Winslow, ever so much to be done.
    Coded emails and spreadsheets, revising timetables and schedules. Hours and hours of typing.
    He paused for a moment, stretched his back -carefully of course, for the sake of the chair, and sighed.

    Then there was a knife against his throat.

    "Interesting." Lung said at last. "I did not sense you enter."

    Ignoring the blade, he tilted his head to look over his shoulder. "Hello Lee, how do you feel?"

    "What did you do to me?" Each word was punctuated the knife being pressed ever so slightly harder, until Lung was bleeding from a thin cut as the knife finally pierced his skin slightly.

    "How odd, didn't Panacea tell you?" Lung replied. "She should be able to tell with a touch."

    "Answer."

    "Very well." Lung placed his hands carefully on his lap and began. "Those are your memories. All of them."

    At this, Lee hesitated, and the knife lowered.

    "Please bring Panacea in, it will be easier to explain with the both of you here." With the knife lowered, Lung was able to carefully spin the chair enough to face his former lackey. "And do not worry, I think I am done for the dramatics today. I will not attack unless attacked."

    Lung's voice tended to travel, and he knew his words would be heard. This room didn't have soundproofing, and whatever dress Panacea now wore, it had brushed against the door as she crouched to listen.

    In no time at all, one of the most surreal reunions occurred.

    "What did you do to him, to me?" Panacea began, voice a tired rasp. "I can't see inside myself but from the mirror I see..." she trailed off, hesitant.

    "Victoria's sister? You should," Lung rumbled quietly. "You are still your father's daughter, but your mother is now hers, plus whatever modifications you'd done to your sister. Note your freckles and hair curls remain, even as your bone structure and proportions shifted accordingly."

    He smiled, a tired unpleasant smile. "If you ever got an anonymous blood test, they would swear that Brandish had an affair with Marquis." He paused to chuckle, seemingly impressed with himself. "It's perfect, isn't it? Why she attacked the man in his own house, why she took the child with her, it's so very well done."

    "You are Amelia Claire Lavere no longer. You really are Amy Dallon now," Lung concluded. "In blood and on paper. Rejoice."

    And with that Lung's gaze went to Lee.

    "And as for you, when I co-opted her power and looked inside you, I saw that all the neurons were intact, your memories, but the connections between them were what was missing. And so, using those three in the freezer, I looked for patterns and applied every one I could find. Most will not make sense to you, and in time they will fade, but the ones that remain should produce a framework for you. As for your power..." He shrugged. "We will have to see."

    Staring at the two silent parahumans in his office, he turned and glanced at the computer's clock.

    "Four AM. Almost six hours. So much time together, might I ask where you two went?"

    "That's for us to know," Panacea snapped.

    "May I make a few guesses then?" Lung's face without the mask wasn't terribly expressive, not anymore, but he could still arch an eyebrow.

    "First you went to the PRT, but did not enter." She froze, face stiff, while Lee didn't react.

    "I can guess this because they are not surrounding this place or attacking me, nor would they let you enter here, barely armed. Especially their precious healer."

    Hearing no reply Lung extrapolated on. "I somehow doubt you would go to the Empire, despite being quite literally the poster child of Aryan beauty now. And while you could join the Merchants, their sphere of influence does brush against the areas that New Wave protects. Conflict with them would be inevitable."

    His one hand came up to tap his lip, while the other held his wrist. A thinker's pose, lower case 't'.

    "Then I imagine you decided to run away." Amy really was terrible at hiding her tells, it was something she would have to work on. "I'm not sure if you got Lee to steal a car or if you went towards the bus station, but either way you didn't leave, as you are here after all."

    "And so you are here, in front of me, demanding answers to questions you already know or suspect, and not the single question you should be asking."

    Lung paused, crossing his arms and content to wait.

    "What do we do now?" Amy said at last, looking so lost.

    "Why, you work for me of course." Lung's head cocked slightly. "What other choice do you have?"

    That set off Panacea, but her voice was dry and after less than a minute she broke out in a coughing fit.

    Slowly, almost hesitantly, Lee went over to the refrigerator and retrieved a bottle of filtered water.
    This did not escape Lung's notice.

    "I could go to the PRT, with Oni Lee I could give them information on all your hideouts. We could bring the ABB down!" Throat moistened, she returned to the fray, but her anger and outrage was tinged with fatigue.

    "You could, yes. But then you already didn't and it's easy to guess why. The questions they would ask."

    That silenced the girl, but Lung wasn't done.

    "What happened to you? Why do you look like that? And what did you do to Oni Lee? What did you do to his mind?" He snorted, loud and harsh as always. "The very fact that Piggot's knees have not ever been fixed, and I know that she still has to get dialysis done, tells me she suspects the lie you told about the range and scope of your powers, and you know if you went in, you might never come out." His lip curled, "Except as Prisoner 612."

    "And all the heroes would never be trusted by her, nor any that you have healed, as if you were the Nilbog and the Simurgh combined."

    "I haven't," she whispered, so quiet that only Lung heard it, and he nodded in response.

    "And I believe you," Lung said sadly. "But enough of them won't, and every transfer, every promotion or demotion, every team shifting would always be held up to the scrutiny and the suspicion. Was it because I was healed by her?"

    He didn't say that he had let the two of them go as part of a test, not for them, but for the one he recalled vividly when he was in the back seat of the growing monstrosity.
    A face that both of them had seen, but only one had heard the name of.
    Her.

    But they survived and weren't whisked away without a trace, so if nothing else, they were content to wait for the moment.

    "You will work for me, and, I will bear the brunt of things, as always," Lung concluded. "You will be able to state honestly that Lung drove you into a corner and likely would have killed you, and gave you no option but to join. That he did things to you and forced you to use your powers in ways you never wanted to. And that Oni Lee fell in love with you and betrayed me."

    Her gaze went from irate to desperate, to thoughtful. At that look Lung sighed and threw in the final straw to break the camel's back.

    "And, I will not attack New Wave in any way, nor contact them or tell them anything, only defend myself if attacked."

    And that was that.

    ---===---​

    It was closing on five AM, and Panacea was wavering on her feet.

    "Lee, take Panacea to the Garage, the new one we picked up last week, I've ordered furnishings to be sent there."

    Lee nodded, and turned to the woman he loved above all other things.

    "And afterward, if you don't mind, get the ether ready, I think I deserve to sleep twice this week."

    It had been quite the day after all.
     
    Last edited:
  • Threadmarks
    • Every chapter, Steve... Every chapter is just such a wild ride. There's always so much to unpack. Vista taking off the kid gloves, Amy's transformation and its consequences, a more stable Bakuda, and the ongoing merging of Pearl and Lung? I'm going to go mow the lawn and meditate on what I've learned here.

    As always, thanks for sharing.
     
    Uhm. Words aren't coming to me. They should, but they're not.

    About the only thing I can say can be summed up with "Wow."
     
    The Steve said:
    "Any decent lawyer could get most Tinker devices downplayed as diminished mental capacity due to Parahuman Commencement, aka. The 'Triggering' defense." Lung nodded casually, as if he hadn't ruined her life by helping her. "Especially if you could be used against the Endbringers. But with those extra actions, you had premeditation and intent."

    "Three strikes..." College had those as well for frats and parties. "And-"
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    I'm not sure that reasoning really makes sense. Something like a "three strikes" law only really has a point if it's one strike per conviction. I mean, how many crimes can a parahuman commit that do not involve the breaking of at least three laws in the process? Can't imagine there are terribly many of those, because to the best of my knowledge even regular, non-parahuman crime tends involve a bevvy of incidental secondary charges. If the three strikes worked like that, then a lot of people ought to be going to the Birdcage practically on a first offense, which we do know isn't actually the case.
     
    Last edited:
    Reader mode
    You must login or register to reply here.
    Remove ads
    Back
    Top