At the end of this chapter, after the end Author Note is the first of the Trifecta sidestories, at least on the versions posted to FF and AO3. SB, SV, and QQ already have it in the sidestory section. As always, please consider becoming a Patron and add your thoughts to the TV Tropes page!
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Seraphim
Chapter Nine
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Cassie rose slowly, almost blissfully so, from the embrace of Morpheus as her consciousness returned to the waking world. She sat up and looked around, smiling despite herself at the room that she had in a small way begun to make her own. The apartment that Kayden owned was small but nice, with more than enough room for the two of them and little Aster, and she had to admit that she was greatly enjoying living somewhere other than with her parents. Not that they were really deserving of the word, if she was going to be honest, but that wasn't something she particularly felt like thinking about right now. She wrinkled her nose slightly, her brain waking up enough to realize it was smelling…
"Cassie! Breakfast!" she heard Kayden call from down the hallway, right about the moment she realized she was smelling freshly-cooked bacon and eggs, which just so happened to be her favorite breakfast.
So she liked the stereotypical American breakfast, sue her.
Tossing her covers back, she slid out of bed and headed for the door with the ungainly haste of the eager but barely awake. Ignoring her rumpled appearance, T-shirt askew and shorts riding a little high, she padded down the hallway towards the kitchen from which the enticing smells were emanating. As she walked, she spared a few glances for what pictures there were on the walls. All of them were of Aster, naturally. One only had to be in Kayden's presence for a matter of moments (out of costume, obviously) to know that her baby was the entire world to her.
"Good morning, Cassie." The older woman smiled warmly at her from the stove, and Cassie gave her a small smile in response before turning her attention to the happily burbling Aster. Offering the infant her finger, her smile grew as it was tightly gripped by one meaty fist and waved slightly side to side. "Hungry, I hope?"
"Always. I might not be a teenaged boy, but dieting isn't exactly something I need to do to keep my figure when I spend the night outrunning rivals or the cops. Or outflying, I suppose." She responded easily, pulling out one of the counter stools and sitting down with a languidness so natural only in youth. "It's amazing how much energy flying around on cars or bits of concrete can be."
"I think that it is more likely the adrenaline burning calories than anything else," Kayden commented dryly, putting a plate down on the countertop in front of her with a soft click of glass on linoleum. "But then again powers are strange. God knows I have to spend plenty of time in the sun after a particularly big fight, or I would be useless for the next one."
"Mmh, Ariana mentioned something about Kaiser having to set up a room full of halogen lamps for you a couple of times during the winter months to help you recharge." Cassie bobbed her head in understanding, and Kayden rolled her eyes with a soft huff of laughter.
"I can recharge just fine during winter, he just wanted to see me in as little clothes as possible." She responded, shaking her head slightly with a look of distaste. "Max always wanted a pretty little display piece to boost his ego."
"That's not fair! He loved you, and you abandoned him!" Cassie protested automatically, scowling at the older woman, who looked at her with something very like pity. Something that hardly improved her mood, especially because she knew that Kayden was at least partially right. Kaiser had often gone out of his way to have Kayden on his arm in as flattering clothes as possible when in public, and she had heard him brag more than once about how she had 'played hard to get' but that he had 'won her over in the end' to other businessmen. And, whether she liked it or not, it wasn't exactly news that Kaiser had something of an ego. A well-deserved one, as far as she was concerned, but it existed all the same. "You shouldn't have left us, Kayden. It hurt a lot, in more ways than one. And don't give me any cliched crap about 'wanting to be a better person' or how 'becoming a mom changed your perspective.'"
"Even if it's true?" Kayden raised her eyebrows in the midst of coaxing Aster into accepting another spoonful of orange goop masquerading as food. "Is it really so hard to believe that having a baby could change someone's perspective? It's not like I was an Empire supporter my entire life, you know."
"So what! It's not like Aster would have a bad life as the daughter of Max Anders! And Theo won't make much of an heir the way things are right now!" the teen scoffed, tossing her blonde hair contemptuously.
"Ever wonder why Theo is the way he is? Ever wonder why he's so quiet and impersonal? It's because Max didn't want an heir that would question him or keep him from being the power behind the throne. He wanted a puppet, a copy of himself with no ideals or personality beyond what he installed. I won't let him do the same thing to my baby." The fierce determination in Kayden's voice was equal parts declaration and warning, and Cassie swallowed an automatic response. Whether or not Kayden's comments were accurate was probably not an argument she wanted to make at the moment, and all of that stuff had happened before her entrance into The Empire anyway. "Honestly, if you want to know something that really pushed my change of opinion, it was when I was raiding an ABB safehouse with some of the soldiers. It was in the middle of a residential neighborhood and plenty of the locals got caught in the crossfire. I came across a mother with her baby trying to hide from the fighting. The fear in her eyes, the way that she was shielding her baby like I was about to attack it…like I was some sort of monster, an evil thing that hurt children for the sheer joy of doing so. I nearly threw up, it made me so fucking sick! You've had people look at you in fear and anger, Cassie, but I pray with all my heart that you never have such an experience as that."
"We don't attack babies! Kaiser wouldn't tolerate that!" Cassie protested firmly, appalled at the idea. Sure, they might not be white, but they were still just babies!
"C'mon, Cassie, you know as well as I do that plenty of Empire soldiers, and more than a few of the capes, would have no problem whatsoever with hurting kids and elderly people." Kayden chastised her, a thread of disappointment entering her voice for the first time in the conversation. "After all, they're still 'members of the lesser races', aren't they? The Empire isn't what you think it is Cassie, and Max is certainly no stalwart protector of the victimized Caucasian race. I wish I hadn't ever gotten involved, but the past is what it is. I just hope you figure things out faster than I did."
She could do nothing but watch silently as Kayden plucked a now-drowsy Aster from her high-chair and carried her off towards the master bedroom and the crib therein. Kayden was wrong, she knew, about Kaiser and the rest of The Empire. The Empire wasn't formed from hate, but from hope. From a desire to protect people from the statistically provable preponderance of crime from certain non-white demographics, to quote her leader. It was a gift, not a curse.
Wasn't it?
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A small cloud of smoke rose from the roof of Brockton Bay General Hospital to mingle with the smog of the city air, a cloud of smoke that somewhat ironically had emanated from the mouth of The World's Greatest Healer, The Girl Who Could Cure Everything: Amy Dallon, far more often addressed by her cape name of Panacea. Untamed brown hair hung loose around a face haggard by the countless hours of effort to help the people of her home survive another day, green eyes dull with exhaustion of both the physical and emotional sort as she took another drag on her cigarette.
One of these days she would have the courage to take some time off, she mused sardonically, absently tapping the ash off of the end. She would spend some time with friends, maybe go to the movies like a normal girl instead of obsessively healing anything and everything that crossed her path in some insane quest to absolve herself for sins she had never even committed. That was the worst part of it all, really. She had never abused her power, despite all manner of temptation and selfish desire. She had never used it to get her own way, to make herself rich, or to secure influence and favor from the wealthy and influential of the world. No, she spent her days salving her guilty conscience, a conscience that plagued her not with the memories of sins committed, but rather her potential to commit those same sins.
Maybe Mom will tell me how much she loves me and Vicky will confess her undying desire for me at the same time. She snorted aloud at the absurdity of it all. Oh, Carol never mistreated her, not even close. In a way, Amy would almost prefer that to the utter neutrality with which she was regarded. Her punishments were fair, her rewards were given when earned, and she was not left ignored during holidays or during family time. Underneath all of that agonizing normality, however, was the seed of fear and discomfort that her adoptive mother always felt around her. She didn't know why, and she knew a part of Carol loathed herself for feeling it, but it was there nonetheless. All she had ever been able to learn, thanks to almost constant badgering of her Aunt Sarah, was the fact that it had to do with something that had happened to Carol and Sarah when they had been teenagers themselves.
"That's not terribly healthy, you know. One would think someone of your skills and reputation would be painfully aware of just what smoking can do to your body." A soft, almost musical voice pierced her thoughts, and she jumped with a shriek of surprise and startled fear. The edge of the roof suddenly loomed all to near and she flailed to retreat from the abyss. A firm hand griped one arm and pulled her back several feet, and once balanced she tore herself free and spun to look at her assailant.
"You!"
"Me. My humblest apologies for startling you, I had thought you had heard my approach. It seems the depth of your thoughts was greater than I had assumed and anticipated." The statuesque form of Solace bowed slightly in respectful penance, and Amy settled her breathing, running a hand through her hair as her nerves calmed down.
"Its…its fine. And don't worry about this," she responded finally, waving the stub of her cigarette to indicate of what she was speaking. "I can't manipulate my own biology like I can my patients', but anything harmful that enters my body is nullified anyway. Poison, fattening food, chloroform, sodium phenethyl…Anyway, what can I do for you, Miss Solace."
"It seems there are stories behind some of those that I would be rather unhappy to hear. I am glad that you escaped such situations, though I dearly wish you had never been exposed to them in the first place. To think anyone would be mad enough to try and harm someone like yourself is appalling and shocking in equal measure." The Holy Trinity's healer said sadly, before making a slight dusting-off motion with her hands and continuing. "My King suggested, and I happen to agree, that I extend to you an offer of cooperation for several projects, both long and short term."
"What kind of projects could you need my help with?" Amy blinked, surprised. "I mean, you can do everything I can, and then some."
"In a way, yes, but it is energy intensive the more severe a wound is, and I'm sure you know well the burden of making decisions based on Triage. Our hope is that collaboration between Artificer, myself, and you will allow us to not only help heal more people of this city at a greater pace, but develop tools to lighten the burdens on the doctors and Good Samaritans such as yourself. Furthermore, your familiarity with the human body is without compare." Solace responded, scarlet hair shifting slightly as she paced, hands moving slightly to emphasis her words. "The first of, we hope, many such collaborations would be to cure those addicted to narcotics, alcohol, and other such vices of their suffering. Artificer is particularly interested to see if she can design an Object of Power that could alleviate their cravings, if not eliminate it all together. You know as well as we that many addicted to the creations of the gangs would abandon that life if given the resources to succeed."
"You're not wrong about that, true." Amy said slowly, brow furrowing in thought as she contemplated the proposal. It had merit, certainly, and she had more than once lamented that she could only ever cure the symptoms of addiction rather than the cause due to her own personal sandbagging efforts. Teaming up with Solace and Artificer would allow her to truly cure people without revealing the truth about her power. That was enticing for several reasons, not the least of which would be weakening The Merchants severely and crippling a good portion of the income for the ABB and Empire as well. No more drug-addicted prostitutes walking the streets in agony, either, which was another thing she could get behind. "I'm tentatively interested, certainly, though I would want to hear more details and be involved in some of the decision making before we finalize anything."
"Naturally, naturally. We would certainly not have you beholden to circumstances outside your control or agreement." Solace assured her with a smile that made Amy blush faintly.
"Wow, I didn't think anyone but me or Crystal could make Ames blush like that." An all-to-familiar voice commented, and she resisted the urge to groan in defeat as her sister arrived. Leave it to Vicky to arrive at precisely the moment needed to see something to tease her about. "So, which one are you?"
"Manners, Vicky!" Amy sighed in exasperated fondness, shooting Solace an apologetic look. "Solace, my sister Victoria. Vicky, this is Solace."
"The healer, right? Damn good to meet you, anyone who makes my sister's job easier is a friend in my book!" Vicky touched down and reached out with one hand for a shake, which Solace accepted with an air of bemused humor. "I'm guessing you wanted to work with Ames about something?"
"Yes, a clinic to help cure people of substance addiction and keep them cured, regardless of what substance happens to be their vice. Given your sister's supreme knowledge of the human body, I had hoped we could partner our strengths to achieve success." Solace responded with a nod and another smile, and Amy resisted the urge to smile as Vicky blinked and blushed faintly. It was amusing to see her sister reacting to someone the same way people reacted to her sister.
"That's a great idea! It would really fuck over the Merchants and the other gangs if you did!" Vicky enthused, posting her hands on her hips. "Hey, I was wondering if I could have a spar sometime? Just a friendly fight between comrades in heroing!"
"Vicky, you can't just…!" Amy sighed and rubbed her forehead tiredly. She loved her sister, she really did, but thinking ahead or thinking before speaking were decidedly not amongst the blonde's strongpoints. Which really perpetuated the stereotype, sad as it was to say. "I apologize for my sister's lack of manners, Solace. She likes to test herself against strong opponents, and your group isn't exactly weak."
"I do not mind, although I myself am trained only in the bare minimum of offensive spells. In fact, only My King is the true warrior amongst us thus far. I focus on defensive and healing measures, whilst Artificer prefers to craft Objects of Power to anything else." Was the slow but genuine response. "I know that My King would love to have a friendly spar, provided she exercises the necessary restraint. In fact, perhaps we could make an event of it? She did wish to make a display of strength to ensure that none of the gangs begin to think themselves comparable to us. My King has little tolerance for any attempted 'recruitment' efforts on their part."
"Wouldn't that just make them want to recruit you more? I mean, the stuff you guys have done already has to have caught their attention. Its not too much of an exaggeration to say that you could tip the balance in the city in favor of whatever faction you joined up with?" Glory Girl commented, frowning in mild offense at the 'necessary restraint' comment. She was invulnerable, she didn't need to be handled with kiddy gloves!
"If we make it clear that the cost of attempting to recruit us is too high, there is nothing to fear. Lung doesn't seem to care about much of anything besides money and women, typical dragon behavior that, and Kaiser is a moderately intelligent man. Immoral, cruel, and a proponent of an outdated, horrific, and idiotic dogma, but intelligent. The only people that are really insane enough to try anything overt against us are The Merchants. They are hardly worth mentioning, much less any amount of concern."
The sheer confidence that radiated from every word was staggering, and the two sisters couldn't help but feel that it was a little reckless. They were highly competent, anyone with half a brain could tell that from their exploits, but the Empire capes were far from pathetic. They were a large, cohesive team whose skills and powers synergized quite well with one another. No matter how much raw power The Trinity might have, the Empire combined had far more, and vastly more experience.
"At any rate, we'll make it known on PHO when the event will take place, likely in a day or two. You're both more than welcome to come and either participate or simply observe. Until then, fare thee well." Solace said with a slight shrug after they simply stared at her in silence, too bemused to respond verbally. In a minute she was gone, winging her way across the city, and the two youngest Dallons could only ponder how strange it all was.
"Meh, whatever. I don't need to understand them to help them kick the shit out of some villains. C'mon Ames, it's the end of your shift and you promised to go to the movies with me and the guys. No bailing out on me!" Vicky dismissed the conversation promptly after it ended, attention moving on to the next thing she considered to be important enough to remember, that being socializing.
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Hands folded behind his back as he gazed out the third story window of his primary safehouse, the one closest of all to earning the epithet of 'home', Kenta was deep in solemn contemplation. An expensive, beautifully crafted pipe rested on the table beside him, the sickly-sweet smell of highest-quality PCP-laced marijuana. Still lingering in the air as he took a break from his preferred method of non-carnal relaxation. It was amusing, really, how a drug well-known for causing aggressiveness and paranoid hysteria was the only thing that helped dampen the simmering rage in his heart that was the source of his power. Oh, he could control his power, certainly. He could decide how long to remain engaged, how long to allow himself to 'ramp up' before withdrawing, but it was a constant struggle not to lose himself to The Dragon.
It was only in moments like this when he could focus on other things, on deeper meanings and thoughts, ones that would doubtlessly come as a profound shock to everyone who had ever heard of him. Lung, after all, was not known for deep and meaningful conversations. Yet he did it all the same, and today he was evaluating the place of his faction within Brockton Bay.
He had long since considered leaving the city, finding greener pastures with which to expand his influence and peddle his wares. Those few heroes truly capable of defeating him had long since proven their disinterest in doing so, despite the close proximity of such heroic powerhouses as Legend and his New York Protectorate branch. He could certainly set up shop in any city he wanted, and likely could do so without even needing to spill a drop of blood. Such was his reputation and the dreaful awe with which he was regarded.
Yet, all this aside, he was unsure of such an idea. Unsure if it was truly worth it, and very much unsure about whether he wanted to give the impression that he was running away. His jaw clenched, a thrill of wrath darting through his veins as he thought of how triumphant, how egotistically grandiose the theatrical Nazi leader would crow about 'driving out the lesser races' that swore fealty to The Dragon. He would be damned before he gave that man even the most petty and hollow of victories, but he was not stupid enough to think that he could annihilate the entirety of The Empire's parahuman strength alone. Not without many getting past him to wreak havoc in his territory and visit suffering upon his people.
Oh, he was no paragon, no just and wise leader that loved and was loved by all those who followed him. But the ABB and those under its protection were his. His servants, his soldiers, his hoard. They gave him respect, influence, wealth and women. To allow them to be laid low would weaken him, even embarrass him, and these were things that could never be permitted. His pride, the pride that had driven him to challenge and defeat the whole of the Protectorate East-North-East in a single battle, would not permit it.
"Lung-sama." The voice of Oni Lee drew his attention, and he turned to face the oni-masked man.
"Lee, you have a further report to give me?" he responded evenly, lifting his pipe and tapping the remains of his previous session into an intricately carved jade ashtray.
"Yes, Lung-sama. According to the new group and some eyewitness statements, Purity has indeed quit the Empire. She focuses on ourselves and The Merchants out of lingering loyalty for her former comrades and fear of reprisal against her family and her civilian life." The other man responded, even as Lung refilled the pipe and lit it with a deft flick of his wrist. "It is very doubtful that she will intervene on their behalf, though she and these newcomers may intervene for those caught between our forces and those of Kaiser."
Grunting his acknowledgement, Kenta inhaled deeply, allowing the smoke to fill his lungs. With Purity off of the field, the greatest irritant of The Empire was gone. Oh, Kaiser was dangerous, certainly, and his pet giantess twins were not insignificant, but a flying blaster posed a far greater problem for his people to combat than the rest of their roster. After all, the rest of the Empire capes were land-bound, able to move only by the means of their own two feet. Able to move only within his grasp, able to be ground beneath his taloned feet and purged by searing flame.
"Good, very good. Begin the preparations to move against the Empire. Instruct the soldiers to begin probing their territories. Discover how quickly they respond to what areas of the border and whom they send. I will not tolerate failure in this battle, Oni Lee, and if knowledge of our enemy will secure our victory than it is knowledge that we shall gather. Do not disappoint me." He ordered, turning back to the window as his servant withdrew with a respectful bow. He had proven his personal strength in battle time and time again. Now he would prove the strength of his mind. He would trap his enemies, herd them before him until they were trapped like rats, and like rats he would destroy them utterly. Whether they fled or were rendered to ash, he cared little enough. In the end, The Dragon would rule this city, and all within it would pay homage to his might.
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"Hana, I want you out of costume and mingling with the crowd. Several of the Wards will be doing the same, in addition to observers in uniform, but I want to know what you see or hear that differs from their own experiences. This…display concerns me, and there is a lot of pressure from other Directors and politicians to get a handle on 'The Trinity'. We're flying blind, and that is intolerable."
Those had been the orders from the Director when word arrived that The Holy Trinity were holding a 'display' down on the boardwalk, one where they invited anyone to make inquiries or even spar with them. According to the PHO post they had used to make the announcement, the gathering would be enforced neutral ground, and whomever broke the peace (be they hero or villain) would be forced to leave by whatever means were necessary. A bold move, and a dangerous one, but one the PRT couldn't raise too much of a fuss about. The goodwill The Holy Trinity had garnered through their actions and their noblesse oblige towards Purity had the citizenry enthralled and firmly in support of their actions. The three angels of The Bay had promised a day of entertainment with enforced nonviolence and neutrality? Fantastic, make a family day out of it!
Now here she stood, dressed in a light jacket and windbreaker pants, on one of the concrete lots that in a month or two would probably be a skate part or basketball court. Today, however, it was the center of attention for natives of The Bay and beyond, with The Holy Trinity delighting young and old alike with beautiful and artistic displays of 'magic'. Brightly colored spirals of light swept and swam through the sky, and more than one child squealed with delight as dragons, eagles, and deer pranced and capered and flew before them. She herself couldn't restrain a small smile at the beauty of the display and the joy it was obviously bringing to the crowd, well aware that the people of the city rarely had the opportunity to enjoy their lives without fear that a brawl between gangs could erupt and even grow into a larger conflict.
It was strange to her, that a group that had thrived on mystery for so long would do something so public and dramatic. Oh, their debut had been dramatic, and they had certainly been moving openly since then, but to reveal sizable hints of their abilities simply to entertain the populace was a grave risk. The balance of power amongst parahumans was delicate and relied quite heavily on the power of knowledge. The more your enemies knew about your powers and your method of fighting, the easier it was for them to counter you in combat and force you into an untenable position. So why would these three young women do something so public as this, never mind the public sparring that they had promised to offer? Why would they refuse formal power testing at The Rig, where their powers and skills would be kept secret, yet perform in the open?
She rocked slightly on her feet as a young man bumped into her on his way through the crowd. Nodding absently at his mumbled apology, she was entirely prepared to ignore it when a large hand landed on the youth's shoulder, causing him to flinch and stare up at the man that had stopped him.
"Why don't you give the lady her belongings back, hmm?" the man said firmly, though not unkindly, and Hana's eyes went wide as her dominant hand dropped to the pocket she kept her wallet when out and about as a civilian. It was empty, and she was flabbergasted as the blushing-and-glowering teen pulled it out of his own pocket and handed it over. "Good, now why don't you head on home before you get yourself into trouble with someone less forgiving than us."
"Thank you for that. I can't believe I was distracted enough to miss him pulling that off." She turned her focus to her rescuer, and found herself blushing faintly as he smiled at her warmly. Tall and thin, she might have been fooled into thinking he was just another cubicle worker, if not for the dense and wiry muscle displayed by the t-shirt he was wearing. His eyes, brown with hazel flecks, appraised her with interest that did not stray into leering or oogling. Offering her hand for a shake, she introduced herself. "Hana Washington."
"Daniel Hebert, and it was my genuine pleasure, Miss Washington. Kids like him need a bit of a scare to keep them straight, especially in this city. Maybe the embarrassment of being caught by an old man like me will help." He chuckled at his self-depreciating joke, and she frowned at him playfully.
"Now, Mr. Hebert, you're hardly an old man! And please, call me Hana." She said, and laughed politely at the stereotypical 'I look for my father' comment as she was granted permission to use his own first name. "So, what brought you here today? Enjoying the show yourself, or…?"
"Just me, I'm afraid, to enjoy a brief break from work to watch something deeply inspiring. I can tell you for a fact that some of the people here with their kids are from rival gangs, but none of that matters. Right now, the only thing that matters is letting their kids have a good time." He told her, tone and facial expressions giving no hint of deception, and she felt her eyebrows raise a bit involuntarily. It certainly wasn't an outlandish claim to make, given the prevalence and manpower of the gangs in the city everyone knew at least one person in one of the gangs. Still, the easy confidence with which he spoke was as intriguing as it was alluring. "How about you, why are you here?"
"Much the same, honestly. I've heard about what sort of things these three have done for people in this city, and I wanted to see it for myself. Besides, it isn't often that something good happens in Brockton Bay without someone spoiling it with a fight or two. Even the movies…" Hana trailed off, recalling the cleanup for a fairly recent brawl that had broken out at the downtown cinema during a matinee. No one had died, fortunately, but more than a few bystanders had been badly hurt and the cinema had been closed for nearly two weeks.
"Yeah, I heard about that. I would have thought they could keep to themselves long enough to watch an Aleph import, but maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part." He nodded a little sadly, before stepping up beside her and returning his gaze to the group. "So, do you mind telling me about yourself?"
"Only if you return the favor." She responded, receiving a head bob of agreement, and she settled herself as she fell into the routine of giving her cover story, a delicate balance of truth, half-truths, and outright lies. "I'm a security trooper for the PRT, though sometimes I get shuffled over to paper-pushing. Not what I like to do with my life, but oddly enough there are policies for how long someone can be in the field uninterrupted."
There had been an immense debate amongst the Protectorate/PRT higher-ups about how to handle cover identities for the various affiliated heroes. Many would, accurately, argue that having a Kurdish-American woman of a certain age claiming to work for the PRT in a city within which the famed Miss Militia lived and worked was tantamount to suicide. Anyone would be able to put the pieces together, after all, if they decided to put sufficient effort into the task. That being said, most Americans (most people not native to the Middle East period) couldn't tell a Kurd from a Turk from an Egyptian, but they might take notice of a woman with such descriptions going to PRT/Protectorate stations with a distinctly furtive behavior. As a result, a broader and adult version of the Ward Protection Program was put in place. Four or five people of similar traits to the various heroes were carefully selected to act as a smokescreen for said heroes. Combined with The Unwritten Rules, it was more than sufficient.
Daniel, she learned, was the Head of Hiring for the Dockworkers Association. An increasingly defunct organization, given the lack of usability for the port. Still, he hoped to someday convince some altruistic parahuman (or filthy rich businessperson) to help him move the debris and make the port usable again. He quite accurately pointed out that the decay of the city had truly begun when the docks were rendered unusable, and so it was logical to assume that the city would improve with them functioning again. If nothing else, the people joining a gang for the sake of getting the money to survive would have another, more legal option of employment. Yes, that would paint a target on his back, but that didn't really matter all that much as far as he was concerned. She could admire, did admire, the fact that he was unwilling to let his home waste away around him when he could do something about it, regardless of the danger.
Their conversation regrettably came to a halt when Glory Girl and Seraphim squared off for 'a friendly spar'.
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Vicky couldn't restrain a wild grin of excitement, fists clenching and unclenching rhythmically as she stared across the court at her opponent. The lazy, loose stance that Seraphim stood with was none the less well-balanced. Even she could tell that, despite her utter lack of official training in hand to hand combat, and it was thrilling. The best she got to fight most of the time were unpowered thugs who at best could only brawl, if they did anything more than shoot wildly in her general direction with whatever guns they possessed. The chance to fight someone as capable as Seraphim was a dream come true, especially because she wouldn't have to hold back as much. She hated holding back, partly because she was so bad at it, but mostly because it stressed Amy out and gave her extra work.
"Now, this will be a friendly spar. Seraphim will be using nothing more than her physical abilities, have no fear of collateral damage. Oddly enough, lobbing around exploding spears of light while standing in the middle of a crowd is a bad idea." Solace's voice was dry, an amused quirk to her lips, and the crowd chuckled obligingly. "At any rate, this is for fun more than anything else. Give all of you a bit of a cape show that doesn't involve risk to life and limb for everyone within the nearest square mile."
The crowd laughed again, but this time it was quickly stifled. All eyes were locked onto the two teens, neither of whom moved for nearly a full minute, before Seraphim slowly raised one hand and twitched her fingers in a 'come hither' gesture, smirking at Victoria. An instant later, Vicky was rocketing across the intervening distance with her dominant arm drawn back for a ground-shattering punch…which hit nothing whatsoever as Seraphim calmly shifted out of the way, looking almost as if she were floating rather than walking. Eyes narrowed, Vicky attempted to close again. Obviously, the first attempt had failed because of the distance between them.
Or so she had though. Every punch she threw, and even the clumsy but powerful kicks that were interspersed with them, failed utterly to strike her opponent as Seraphim shifted, flowed, and wavered around them like water. It was galling, but it was somewhat exciting as well. A challenge, a fight she didn't win in one punch!
Seraphim, meanwhile, was feeling distinctly disappointed with the young heroine. She was reckless and untrained, throwing haymakers and sweeping kicks that would have her fatally off-balance if not for the fact that she was capable of flying. Even then, a properly trained (or experienced) opponent would make mincemeat out of her, though she supposed the invincibility Glory Girl possessed permitted (and doubtlessly encouraged) her method of fighting. The Siberian ripping out one of Alexandria's eyes, however, should certainly have shown the world that invulnerability could still have definitive limitations. Still, she mused to herself as she batted aside another punch and sent a palm-strike into Victoria's sternum. There is something to be said for passion and determination. Perhaps I should offer her some training. If she actually knew what she was doing she would be a much better hero than she is already.
The spar didn't last much longer than that, given circumstances and the disparity of strength and skill. Honestly, no one had expected otherwise, because Glory Girl wasn't known for anything other than collateral damage due entirely to recklessness and an inability to think things through. Still, it had been entertaining and enlightening, and it was obvious that there were no particularly hard feelings. What hard feelings did exist were assuaged by an offer to patrol together and for Victoria to learn a few 'tricks' from the angelic heroine.
"How about a real show? A little play between a mouse and a crow?" a cheerful voice chirped from within the crowd, which parted with surprised eyes to reveal the grinning form of arguable the hammiest and most famous independent hero alive. The Protector of The Small. The Knight of Mice. One of the very first Wards, and the only one of their number to leave the Protectorate when she came of age.
Mouse Protector.
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I hope that the AU-ish elements in this chapter were adequately explained, though it is AU only because I do not recall (nor have search efforts found) anything canonical on what cover identities the adult heroes possess. There is no logical reason to assume that they wouldn't be monitored or tracked by enemies, so I figured an adult version of the Ward protective measures would be a logical addition to the story.
As for the display put on by The Holy Trinity, this was very deliberate for the reasons depicted in the story. They are playing a long game, a propaganda effort in effect. They know people are uncomfortable with their appearance, power, and lack of oversight and apparent constraints. So, they make themselves friends of the people as a method of protection.
It will also irritate the PRT/Protectorate. Especially with Mouse Protector getting involved!
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Fear.
Impact.
Pain.
LoathingandFear.
Darkness…
Two silver eyes shot open and darted around their surroundings before darting to her arms and legs. Bound to a wall spread-eagled, naked as the day she was born, by chains that could not possibly be of human origin for several reasons. Not the least of which that she couldn't manifest her wings or break herself free. Not even parahuman bindings could hold her, no power could bind an Angel of her experience and power unless she wanted it to. That meant it was a faction from her old homeworld, and given her partial memories and impressions of the accident, she knew it was an enemy.
"Oh good, you're finally awake. I was beginning to grow bored, and was entertaining the idea of waking you up with a dash of torture. Simply a warm up for the main event, a down payment on the rather significant amount of blood and suffering you owe me, of course." A disgustingly familiar voice, smooth and refined, filled the silence of the room as a silver-haired man, richly dressed in finery, stepped into her view with predatory grace.
"Well, if it isn't my stupid eldest brother's favorite brat. I'm surprised you could muster the courage and the intelligence to cross the Dimensional Gap to find me even once, never mind twice." She sneered in response, derision and mocking contempt dripping from every word. A snarl of fury swept over her captor's face, and she screamed in pain as lightning sank into her flesh, lighting her nerves on fire and scorching her nerves.
"Haa, how terribly rude of you to speak ill of your deceased sibling. You Fallen filth truly are the scum of the earth. Only humans are lower than you, useless monkey's that they are." He sighed, running one hand through his silver bangs as he shook his head, anger hidden behind a veneer of propriety once more. "Honestly, you surely didn't think that you could avoid me forever, did you Azrael?"
"I go by a different name now." She responded coldly, though she couldn't hide the flinch the ran through her at the name of her God-given form of address.
"Ah, yes, a human name. It's quite sad you know, Azrael. Your little rebellion against that dead being you so proudly called father has ensured your name was struck from the records of his faithful. His legions of mindless faithful are not taught to speak it, in fact you are never spoken of at all. How terribly sad."
"I did what was necessary to protect my beloved youngest siblings, as did all of my Fallen kin." She retorted passionately, eyes burning with an in-born fire. "They did not, do not, know what is best for them. It is the duty of the elder children to guide the younger and protect them, especially from their own foolishness. They must be safeguarded against monsters like you, Rizeveim Livan Lucifer. Whatever the cost to myself. Besides," she smirked at him, eyes laughing, mocking him as her tone turned to taunting. "Let's just admit that you're still sore about me robbing you blind. How many artifacts did I give to my brothers and sisters, how many did I take with me to other realms? 10? 20? 100?"
"75 artifacts of immense value, yes." The grandson of the First Satan admitted through gritted teeth. "I confess that your little heist was impressive, even if you take into account the utter incompetence of my guards. How they could fail to even slow you down for a moment escapes me entirely."
"Come now, you surely didn't expect such trash, low level devils to slow me down, did you? I, the Fallen Archangel, the Aspect of Death, and veteran of The Great War of Heaven and Earth?" she scoffed in amusement, and he tilted his head as if in thought before nodding slowly.
"Oh, I suppose you are a bit beyond their grasp. Why, even today there are not many who could hope to match you in the power you possessed then. But you have grown weak, Azrael, after your long indulgence of the humans. Your recent centuries have been spent rolling in the mud with the rest of them, and it has left you vulnerable. The legendary Chooser of the Slain, the Valkyrie of The Watchers, would never have been laid so low by a simple mortal car accident." He waved her comment off with a leer of triumph and disgust. "You are nothing compared to your self of The War, and so you are nothing to me now."
He turned and started to walk away with a casual stride, utterly dismissing her as inconsequential.
"Get back here you bastard! Set me free and I'll show you just how strong I still am!" she shouted after him, but he didn't even pause in his gait.
"Why bother? You're a toy for my entertainment now, Azrael. There is no escaping from here, and no rescue will ever come. After all, no one knows that you are here, and no one ever will. Sleep well, the fun and games begin in the morning!" he responded over his shoulder lazily raising one hand in farewell, before a door dropped down behind him with an echoing boom, leaving her alone in the darkness.
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So, yeah. Its short, but its only a small sidestory snippet. More will come eventually. As for why I chose Azrael to be Annette's true name, there are a few reasons:
Azrael is never named or referenced in the Christian Bible. He is not regarded as either canonical nor non-canonical in Christianity. This is, in story, because she rebelled against God alongside Azazel.
Azrael is the angel of Death, Retribution, and Renewal. That last point is going to be significant.
Her nature as Death and Retribution will also be significant in influencing Taylor's nature. That is all I have to say without straying into true spoiler territory.