Interlude: Victoria
6/8/2011, 7:39 AM EDT
Tattletale might already know; well, at least that something's happened. But even she's absorbed in the discussion. We'd moved to Mrs. Veder's dining room to continue making our plan; with the help of a precog who could predict even Scion, it had seemed possible that we could actually stand a chance, even without calling Legend for help. But then…
"He couldn't actually have left, could he?"
6/8/2011, 1:07 PM BST
Kevin Norton seems surprised to hear my vocalizations. It takes the use my power to determine the reason: he has never experienced it firsthand; only once has he even heard of me speaking.
"Then... you understand?" Kevin Norton asks. "You'll try to kill the endbringers?"
"Yes."
"And.. you think you can kill them?"
"Yes."
"And... you.. were always able.. to.. kill them?"
"Yes."
Kevin Norton collapses, shaking irregularly. One of his companions, a female, grabs him, saying ineffective words. Untrue statements, at that. This bothers me enough to drive me to speak unbidden.
"No," I interject, addressing the woman, Lisette. "Had Kevin Norton not asked me to do so, I would have continued to fight the Endbringers in the manner which I previously had."
They are both still. Losing interest, I observe the rain, lightly dousing us; the clouds, still oversaturated with water; the rickety bridge, which will retain its structural integrity anywhere from two to twenty-seven years, depending on several factors. I am one of them.
Another question draws my attention.
"You've only been fighting them because he told you to?" Lisette asks.
"Yes."
"Why did you listen to him?"
Another why. Worse, my power's attempt to answer is more than a little inadequate. It can reach back in time to show me the moment when Kevin Norton approached my golden form, but the information provided concerning my thought processes is ... alien.
I ask why I cannot understand, but this proves equally ineffective. Finally, I provide an answer based only on my own observations.
"I respond to verbal instructions generally."
A bit of a pause, now. "So if, if a villain, for example, told you to do something... you'd do it?"
"Yes."
"H-have you - already done things that villains have told you?"
"Yes."
My grasp of the vocabulary of any human language is insufficient to accurately describe their contorted faces, much less the mental states which their expressions imply.
"Who?"
I retrieve his identity, but it is meaningless to them, so I give his cape name. "Jack Slash." Curiously, neither Kevin nor Lisette reacts to this... although, I realize, staying so unusually still is a reaction in and of itself.
"What..." asks Lisette finally, "did he say to you?"
"He asked if he could assist me."
"What did you say to him?"
"I replied that he could not." This produces something like relief in them.
"Was... that all?"
"No."
"...What else did he tell you?"
"He asked if I could proceed away, on the grounds that he was about to have a meeting."
"And... you did?"
"Yes."
This snaps Kevin Norton out of his stupor. "Listen, Zion. You cannot listen to Jack Slash, or other villains. And if you see Jack again, you have to take him out. Take out the Nine, the Sleeper, monsters like that. Fight them and kill them."
I nod in affirmation.
Interlude: William
6/9/2011, 10:10 AM EDT
He finds himself unable to locate Bonesaw.
Normally... though normally, of course he wouldn't have failed in the first place... Normally, he would have asked Jack, but he was the first go missing.
His leadership capabilities, William knows, are, or perhaps were, substantial; he doubts the group will hold together much longer. It seems only fitting that he abandon the 'rules' of this game Jack had set up.
The whole point of the Siberian, after all, is a rejection of all the rules, the constraints, of human society. After - after the incident, the opportunity presented itself, and it killed two birds with one stone. She would be back, in a fashion, through him. He would live for the both of us, and there would be no consequences. Not ever again.
Cherish... is she aware of his true nature? Perhaps. With elaborate revenge plans looking less likely by the moment, she was probably the most dangerous, out of his 'companions.' But her capture was easy to work out, to trace from eyewitnesses who told him what he needed before he tore them apart. Taken, probably by one of the local factions. They'd been cooperating from the beginning; that was clear, now. Legend, though, still didn't seem to be in the loop.
If they aren't going to him... they must still be playing the game…
Which would imply that the disappearances are the work of another.
He sees Crawler fly through the air, a golden trail of light propelling him upwards. Scion blasts him further and further into the sky, clearly toying with him.
Fantastic.
The one individual that could put an end to his journey. The differences in the golden man's behavior would trouble him quite a bit if he gave two shits about the fate of the world anymore. Obviously, this was the onset of the changes Contessa predicted; heralding the point at which the entity would cease its attempts to simulate heroism and carry out something like the vision she'd had of the future.
A final blast eradicates Crawler.
6/9/2011, 10:20 AM EDT
The mission, namely, to fight and kill each member of the Slaughterhouse 9, is nearly complete.
The projection of William Manton slices into me, as before. Though the blows are just as ineffective, I realize, with only a slight prodding from my power, that he will make the connection quickly. There is, after all, only one other individual he has observed who has displayed such resistance to his attacks.
I think quickly, fulfilling my orders while denying him time to cause complications.
I blast the projection with a different ability. It is equally ineffectual as anything else would be, but it is a deception. My true attack strikes the projector where he is concealed. He staggers, and the projection with it. I lift all three of our forms, and we barrel through the sky, with William Manton still hidden in the floating debris.
The distance we cover is considerable; on impulse, I choose a location with an unusual density of shards to make my landing. We tear through the barriers keeping the structure apart from the world. They are tougher than I would have estimated; the Siberian penetrates through more easily than I do. The accompanying destruction is immense, though I mitigate it somewhat, so that our fight will be appropriately concluded.
A few more blasts of light, coupled with disorienting blows to the projector, and now all the capes present who have not burst through the path we carved have observed our battle.
I compress the shrapnel under which William Manton is hiding, just as I direct a large blast at his projection. The fight both appears to end and ends.
There is nothing more to do for the moment, and I decide to idle, for a moment. The sensation is most akin to human... tiredness. Odd, since I barely burned through any of my lifespan. I merely observe as the strange collection of capes continue to stream out. One of them, who has assumed the form of a juvenile, approaches me. Since her presence in this place marks her as a villain, I do not listen to her speech.
The futures made possible by the spreading of these shards cause me to experience something like pleasure. I decide to follow Kevin Norton's advice more closely from now on.
