Investments 14.5
I slept, and, for the first time since I'd been here, I had pleasant dreams. Maybe it was because I was thinking about what Panacea and I had just done, so I relived it once again, seeing what I'd just done from an observer's seat, able to see what I'd missed before. My explanation of the concept of a Symbiote, in the style of Spiderman, to the flesh sculptor had been about forty-percent 'biology doesn't work that way', thirty percent 'Even if it did, the thought-interface wouldn't be possible', fifteen percent 'I'm not making anything that connects to a person like that', ten percent 'okay, that's pretty cool', and five percent 'you just want me in skintight bio-latex'.
That said, it'd still been a fun discussion.
We'd settled on biological power armor instead, a collapsible living suit of full plate that she could don and reconfigure via her power, but worked on a basic level through biological scanners that'd monitored and reacted to her somatic nervous system by watching nerve impulses in the spine, after a long discussion on how something that just scanned the brain would both work and be more effective, only to lose to her counter of 'Not gonna do it, and you can't do it, so no.' It was a surprisingly effective argument.
After watching my attempts to help her make it, once she stopped laughing, she'd put me to working on my own project. With three open Minor power slots, I figured it was safe to slot a new ability, and had asked her to pick. She'd looked over my list before looking me dead in the eye and saying, 'Projectile Protection. Because every time you get hurt it's because you get fucking shot.'
Not able to argue with her, I slotted it, and was presented with a new problem. I had no idea how the hell to use it. After an hour of being unable to do so, I finally armored up and handed her my gun (after removing the Speed Zones), and asked her to shoot me in the chest. That prompted another argument, this one I won, as her shot wouldn't be instantly lethal and I had the greatest healer in the world on standby, so, after a lengthy and completely underserved tirade about my insanity, she shot me.
Thankfully, it worked.
A bluish-purple hexagon blinked into existence between, catching the bullet and sending it skittering across the floor. I hadn't realized it in the moment of finally getting the damn thing to activate, but the point of impact changed color slightly, going back so quickly that I'd missed it originally.
Once I'd made the first one, I knew how to make another, able to layer them together into shapes, the long edges of the hexes snapping together easily. It wasn't until I made a full structure that I recognized the power, here in the dream, in a way that I'd missed before, as enthralled as I was with my new ability, like a kid with a box full of Legos.
During the Leviathan fight, when I'd been wearing the Orichalcum Giant 'armor', there'd been a group that'd been on a rooftop, holding off a horde of Leviathan Clones. They'd had what I assumed had been a TinkerTech shield around them, able to fire out without being hit, which meant these things could be one-way, which was even better than I first thought. The changing color worried me though, as it meant they likely had a limit to what they could hold off.
My dream had shifted, taking me back to that rain-ravaged hellscape, passively watching as I fought, focusing my attention on the power I now had to exclusion of all else. There, too, the shields were changing color. Different colors, which was both good and bad, but still changing colors, the sky blue shifting to yellow, before flashing back to blue. Panes would start to turn white, only for the entire thing to suddenly become blue again. He, or she, was replacing them, which was apparently a thing I could do now without taking down the original shield hex. Fascinating.
With everyone moving around in that group, I couldn't tell who was doing it, and the memory progressed, talking with the short-range teleporter, ending as I moved off to go save the group downtown, that memory fading as I returned to my practice with Panacea.
Go back, I thought. I felt like I still missed something, but the memory continued unabated. I really needed to figure this entire 'review memories' thing out, as it could be an invaluable information gathering tool. If only it didn't knock me out for several hours at a time in each attempt. Unable to get it to change, though, I sat back and let it play. The shields, for better or worse, were insubstantial to anything moving below the speed of a thrown object, and I could jump through them, but only half the time, and I couldn't figure out, then or now, why. It wasn't that one side was set to 'block' while the other wasn't, but sometimes it was as if it wasn't there, and sometimes I bounced right off, the substance feeling like really resolute jello. It didn't hurt, but it wasn't going to break either.
Once again, now that I was reviewing the memory, I could see the slight outline I left behind in the shield, gone in an instant, which, spinning off into the air as I'd been, I hadn't noticed. Unfortunately, no matter what I tried, I couldn't get the shields to move, or anchor them to anything that I could then change the position of. They appeared in the air, and then they just kind of hung there.
Their very inoffensiveness is what convinced me that there had to be another use for them, as there was always a combat use for powers, but for the life of me I couldn't figure out what it was. Maybe if I could figure out what the block/allow criteria was? For two more hours I'd played around with them, occasionally talking with Panacea about concepts for mechanisms in her armor, not making a great deal of progress but having a lot of fun.
As we wound down, Panacea collapsing the Bio-matter into a single, very large beetle that I put to sleep after she wrote 'in progress, don't mess with. This means you LB' in its carapace, I heard an odd, rhythmic, pounding sound. I didn't remember hearing that sound then, was it something that I hadn't noticed? Had my memory of it been erased somehow? Was there someone in the base that could mess with memories, hiding from us, but erasing memories whenever they were found out? Could-
The noise came again, and the memory dissolved as I woke up, the sound continuing as I opened my eyes. It was coming from my. . . door. I was an idiot.
Opening the door to my room, Mouse Protector was there, hand raised, shit eating grin across her features. "What do you want?" I asked. "It's. . . three am," I informed her, using the bug that Taylor stuck in my room to read the clock before putting it back where it was, in case she had to search the place quickly.
I'd congratulated her for the idea, but warned her against mentioning it to the others, as they might think something. . . bad. She'd been embarrassed, likely not having thought of the other implications, and for doing something like that without asking, and promised to keep it a secret if I did.
"Yeah? And? You don't sleep!" Karen jibed, looking past me at my disturbed bedding. "Or ya do? Want company?"
Taking internal stock, the five hours of sleep had helped me. Part of me still felt tired, but it didn't feel like a physical tiredness. It was small enough that I could ignore it, as I'd been doing previously, and press forward. "That sounds like a wonderful idea," I replied, stepping out into the hallway, the door closing behind me. "Go grab your sword, we'll get you outfitted with a temporary costume and go out to handle what's already been scouted."
She raised an eyebrow, seeming to flicker as she disappeared and reappeared, now holding her Orichalcum sword, revealing that she'd laid a Mark literally at my doorstep. "Okay! Let's go!"
Rolling my eyes, I took her hand and popped us both over to the Mark in my office. Focusing on my own costume, I looked over the threads extending outwards. There were quite a few, and I needed to prune a few of them, reclaiming enough material for Karen's armor. I made the Undersider's costumes, who were in two different locations for some reason, all flash red for a minute before dissolving them. Except for Aisha's. Knowing her, she'd still need the protection, and I could spare it, but Rachel's, Sarah's, and Brian's I got rid of.
I fingered Sundancer's thread. It wasn't like she could use it any longer, but I couldn't bring myself to do so. That left Newter's, which reminded me of him, as, if I was being honest, I'd completely forgotten he existed. I left that one as well. It'd let me track down Faultline's crew. They might not want to join the PD, but it cost me nothing to make the offer.
With more than enough material, I turned to the expectant heroine and asked, "So, do you want to do this the boring way, or the fun way?"
She looked around my office, "Not seein' a costume here V, and I'm not goin' out there in my civvies, no matter how nicely you ask." She paused, considering, "Though I'd be willing to go somewhere else in less."
Shifting my own casual clothing to my Vejovis guise, I focused for a moment to extrude a thread which thickened into a recreation of Mouse Protector's own helmet. It took me a moment, the power still too slow to be used in combat, even with the changes I'd experienced, but it still looked impressive. I added my own features to it, closing off the open parts with clear material, but leaving a thin, invisible grill she could talk and breath through. Tossing it to her, she looked to me, then it, then back to me. "It's too light, but one helluva party trick."
"Put it on," I instructed.
She considered the headgear for a moment before shrugging, putting her sword down carefully, and placing the helm down next to it. With a quick, practiced motion she braided her own hair, curling it upwards in on itself so it was tightly wrapped around her head. I subtly increased the size of the helmet to compensate, which she noticed, glancing at me. I said nothing, obviously waiting, and she finished donning the piece of armor. Staring at her, I tweaked it slightly as she moved it into place, until it rested firmly on her head.
"Okay, you gonna give me the rest?" she asked, motioning downwards.
I crossed my arms. "You never did answer me, normal or fun?"
She stared at me, her expression obscured by the part of her armor displaying a cartoon rodent's mouth. "Fun. Duh."
"Then strip down to whatever you normally wear under your armor, and we'll get started."
She gave me a questioning look before shrugging, taking off the helmet easily. Off went her shoes, socks, shirt, and pants. Her doffing her bra was unexpected. Her question of "Like my girls?" wasn't.
"I do good work," I agreed. "Now put your helmet on, your hands down and slightly outstretched, and hold still, this'll feel a bit weird."
She did so and I concentrated, working from the helmet downwards. Recreating her old costume, I started with the dark grey balaclava she wore underneath her headgear from the bottom edge of the helm, extending it simultaneously downwards and upwards, forcing itself between her hair and the fake metal of the helmet. The other end covered her neck, ran downwards, and I started to grow an undershirt from it, mentally disconnecting the two garments as it crept downwards, over her bust, only paying enough attention to it to make sure it'd fit while moving. I wasn't a tailor, but this'd need to work until I had one on staff. Going for a full black tunic, I started to create a skin-tight pair of black leggings, placing subtle armor where the upper thighs would be exposed, separating them out to be their own separate piece of clothing as well.
Her costume featured thigh-high boots, but these would stop just above the knee and the obvious weak point, her thighs, needed protection as well. "Stand on your left foot," I commanded her, the stockings pausing their simultaneous descent. As she did so I covered one leg fully. "Now the other." And that made two. From the soles of her feet I started to create her boots, Karen giving a rather cute squeak of surprise as she gained an inch, the material curling up over the tops of her feet, extending back up her legs in the other direction. These I armored subtly across their entire length, providing the plates to distribute pressure that my own, original costume had lacked.
Given that the material wasn't real, they could be easily done, and the gaps could be narrow and covered in enough pliable material that the plates were near-indistinguishable from the rest, all covered by smooth faux-leather, the same brown color as her original costume's footwear. Staring at her hips, I created the pocketed belt she should have, from which hung a waist-cape.
Like Boardwalk's it'd obscure her legs enough to let her move unexpectedly, a must for any non-flying weapon user whose footwork could give them away. Extending upwards, I covered the tunic with a brown breastplate, keeping it matte but, not knowing how she'd armored it herself, I created the same kind of banded mail I wore. The bands were thin and numerous enough to flex with her, but covered enough of her to give a great deal of coverage, though making them work with rounded edges of her chest instead of the flat planes of my own took a bit of work. It wouldn't take blows anywhere near as well as Victoria's rig, but a thin covering of not-leather gave it the appearance of being just a simple cuirass. I knew I was likely using half the terms wrong in my head, but I was about as much of an armorer as I was a tailor.
Looking at her bare arms, I realized I'd been too focused on going down on her armor, that I forgot to go out. Extending the sleeves outwards, I kept them tight and armored them as I went, matching the visible armor on her triceps, but adding a bit more elsewhere. Her forearms were kept simple material, because as soon as I finished with the wrist, I folded backwards around her wrist, a seeming leather bracelet blooming outward into her brown gloves, also armored, only the knuckles visibly so. Extending them backwards, armored as well, they almost reached back to her elbow, more armor being added in the small spaces that would be revealed.
As a finishing touch , I created her cape, anchored to clips on her cuirass for quick removal if need be, the crimson cloak circling around her shoulders before dropping down to the proper level, slight weights, really a line of small beads as the material had a uniform heaviness, in the bottom to give it the proper swish and flick, and keeping it from getting in the way.
Unfocusing, I looked her over, and was happy with my work. "Okay, you can move. What do you think?"
Mouse Protector, who had remained completely still throughout the process, something I was thankful for, slumped. "That was the fun way?" she asked incredulously, looking down at herself. "That was. . . holy shit."
Grabbing the webcam from my computer, I turned it to face her, activating the projector in the wall. The life-size image of herself slowly formed as the device turned on. Now able to see herself fully, she stretched this way and that. Only occasionally able to see her eyes, her expression was hard for me to make out, but I was mainly staring at her body. Shrinking the cape to almost nothing got me a questioning look.
"It was getting in the way, keep moving please." She gave a little genie-like hip sashay, but went back to stretching. Every time the costume caught on something, or got in the way, I tweaked it one way or another, making sure not to limit her range of motion. After she was either tired of doing so, or her costume fit her well enough to meet her approval, she stopped and turned back to me. "Okay, this is fun," she admitted, her voice sounding odd. "Even that? And I learned so hard how to make quips without sounding muffled!" she mock-complained, sounding normal once more. Shaking her head, she added, "You turned me into a tank, but a tank with some serious moves."
I motioned to my own costume, "That's kinda the point. I wasn't sure I got the hidden armoring from your original costume right, but thanks for moving and showing me where I messed it up."
"Hidden armoring?" she asked, head tipping in question almost exaggeratedly. Right, I thought. She'd know she needs to overcompensate for the lack of expressions.
"Yeah," I replied, motioning towards her chest and legs. "What you had hidden underneath the leather."
"Um, Vejy-table? Those were just leather," she told me, sounding a bit embarrassed. "Do you know how hard it is to get armored boots like these, ones that don't weigh a ton? And this armor, what's it made of?"
". . . Oh," I replied lamely. I wanted to comment on how going toe to toe with someone's main power was to deal non-healing wounds without armor was, but my own armor oversight meant I couldn't say anything without being a massive hypocrite. "Well, yay? Also, no fucking clue. 'Dimensional cloak' is the explanation I got, and it's kinda, well, part of me. I think. It's weird."
"You mean I'm wearing you? Kinky," she teased. "So you control it? That mean you could tie me up and have your way with me at any time?" She looked over herself again. "Worth it."
That. . . was actually a good question. I tried to mentally move the gloves, but other than changing their composition, I couldn't directly control them. I could tighten them, which got a look, but I raised a 'wait' finger. However, I couldn't make them any tighter than 'snug'. I could create a strip of leather that connected the two gloves, and tried to tighten them, making ersatz cuffs, but I couldn't. Shortening them for aesthetic reasons worked, oddly enough, but as soon as I tried to 'bind' her, the power refused to function.
Dismissing the connecting pieces, I shook my head. "No can do. I can armor people up, but it doesn't work to restrict them."
That got me an unbelieving look. "You never tried?"
I returned with one of my own. "Why would I? I only give this out to people I want to keep safe. Why would I try to tie them up?"
Karen gave me a long look, before dropping her head to her hands, muttering under her breath. I only caught the phrase 'freaking vanilla', which made no sense, but after a moment she popped back up, literally. "Okay! Let's do this. I still need a scabbard, and a shield, and I'll be looking sharp!"
"Edged steel or unbreakable but rounded?" I asked, making a buckler with a large M on it, matching her color scheme. Tossing it to her, I extended the edge, only to have it seem to melt.
She flicked the edge, and it flopped. "Lookin' a little limp there. You know, they make pills for that."
Retracting the edge to a more rounded configuration, I rolled my eyes. "I can't make any weapon-y. Edges don't work, and anything blunt is too light to be useful. Only thing close is this," I recreated my old eskrima sticks, blue-taped ends and all, "But they're so light at that point I'd be better off making something titanium or orichalcum." I unmade them, folding my arms as I added a way to holster her shield on her back, and a side-scabbard for her weapon. "So, this works? When we get a tailor, we'll make something for you that isn't made out of something completely unknown, with any number of weaknesses and flaws that I have no idea of."
She laughed, "Yes Lee, this absolutely works. Now let's go get out of here. I wanna see how bad it is out there.
"It's. . . pretty bad out there," she said from the roof of a house. We'd taken the residential exit, dropping to Shadow and moving several houses over before coming up out of the ground. No power meant no power lines, but it also meant walking out of a random house would be really fucking suspicious.
From there she'd jumped onto the roof herself, aiming for the edge, overdoing it, and landing dead center on the ruined roof with a slam and a "Meant to do that!" drifting down to me.
Following her up, she was perched on top of a crumbling chimney, where she was looking out over the city, eventually commenting on the state of it.
Following her gaze, she was staring at the still-floating ruined skyscraper. Mentally pulling back on the power I was feeding the Water-Wall, I noted that I only had a day or two left before that was fully gone. The ocean had already started to flow back into the bay, though not enough to reach the boardwalk. Looking around, I stopped, as, for some reason, a block of houses had been replaced with a damaged, six-story office building, facing away from us.
"The fuck?" I muttered, staring at it. This wasn't on any of Æonic's reports, and sure as hell not here the last time I'd been out and about. I wasn't even the slightest bit annoyed, so there wasn't a mental effect, it was just. . . odd.
"Okay, first order of business, figure out what the hell that's doing here," I said, pointing towards the building in question. It looked familiar, but I couldn't say why. "You want to walk, or should I carry you?"
Mouse glanced at me, then launched herself off the roof, the chimney collapsing as she did so. She flipped over in the air, landing easily and starting to walk as if that wasn't impressive, though there was an undeniable spring in her step. Following her down, she told me, "We're up here, let's take our time. Small problem with the threads, though. I can't put my Mark on the world, if you know what I mean."
"Right," I nodded. "It'll accept a Mark, but can you put them down through your old costume?"
"Got it in one, Mr. V," she agreed.
I thinned the fingertip of her pointer fingers, holding up my own. "Try now. Nothing I can do about your feet. We'll have to get you actual boots, or something."
She reached down, pivoting on one leg, snagged a piece of asphalt, and tossed it down the street. With a pop, she disappeared, reappearing where it'd landed. "Works!" she called back.
I considered matching her, but we were out in the open, and I needed to stay in character. Flying to her, I smiled, "Good."
"Not gonna. . ." she trailed off. "Oooooooooooh. Right. Mum's the word. Not gonna say anything. Nope. So, weird building? What's so weird about it?"
Laughing, I landed and started to walk with her. "Well, to start with it wasn't there a few days ago."
"That's weird," she agreed, looking around. "So. . . Leviathan really did a number here."
"Yep."
"And they could do this every time?" she asked, with the air of someone who already knew the answer, but didn't like it.
"Yep."
"Shit," she sighed.
"Yep."
Karen glanced over at me, a smile evident in her voice. "Can you say anything other than 'Yep?'"
"Yep."
Not saying anything more, we walked around the out of place building, revealing the ground floor to be, of all things, a MaHotma Grindy. The sign over the door was torn to shreds, and the place had obviously been flooded, and I was pretty sure I caught the whiff of at least one rotting corpse inside, but there was enough of the sign along the back wall of the store left for me to make it out.
Mouse read out the sign, laughing to herself. "Gotta say, I like the name."
"I'll tell him you said so," I replied absently. That narrowed it down, a little. I was sure this place hadn't been here last time. I didn't see any lingering fire damage, so it likely wasn't the one Lung and I fought in, and the floor wasn't ripped to shreds, so it wasn't the one in E88 territory either.
Unless they repaired it. Dad had a month, part of me pointed out. Was it the one I'd flown into when I was hit by a truck? That all seemed like a lifetime ago, but it was practically no time at all. "I know of at least four of these across the city," I told her, looking at the building for any other signs, "and this wasn't one of them." Doing a quick circle around, I found a faded, scrubbed ABB. The one outside of where Herb and I got mugged? I wondered, circling back.
"Okay, good news first, or bad," I asked.
She looked at the building carefully. "Is it gonna come to life and attack us or something?"
"What? No!" I exclaimed, "Why would you think that?"
She shrugged, "You said there was weird stuff!"
Shaking my head, I sighed. "No. Okay, good news, I know what happened. I think. Bad news, I don't know how. This place should be by the boardwalk, close to, but not in, downtown. It's somehow here. Unfortunately, that's either right up against, or in, the red 'go here and die' zone. Not a fun place."
"If it's the 'go here and die' zone, how do you know it's not fun?" she asked back, not taking her eyes off the building, her power ready to take her back to the rock up the street.
"I went there, but stayed away from the worst bits," I shrugged. "But there's a building that isn't there, another that's radioactive, and street that shreds and randomly recombines anything that enters it, stuff like that."
"Not a fun place," she agreed, reaching down and grabbing a bit of rubble. She tossed it through the coffee shop's broken glass, the sound reverberating down the empty street. As she started to step forward, I held my arm up stopping her. "What?"
"We don't know what's going on, and we don't need to go in there. If it's still here later, I'll ask Æonic to scout it out. He can do so without losing anyone if this place, I don't know, drains the life-force of any who step inside or something equally esoteric. The places we're looking at tonight didn't kill anyone without cause, and I have enough intel that we'll be fine," I explained. "None of my senses are saying anything's wrong about this place, but let's give it a pass for now. Come on."
Without waiting for her, I turned and started to walk away. Through the insects on the street, as dark as it was, I could barely make out the metal glint of her helmet as she looked after me, then at the building, then at me, then at the building, before it dipped and she teleported to my side, matching my stride as if she'd always been there.
Actually, with how dark it was, that lead me to another question. "Mouse, how are you seeing?"
"I don't know," she said, looking up. "Isn't it a full. . . . moon?" It was, in fact, overcast, the city dark save for the light given off by the anomalies. "The fuck?"
"On a scale of full day to pitch black, how dark is it?" I asked her, having a general idea of what was going on. For the out-of-place building I only the basest of 'something is wrong here, don't know more than that though I've got some ideas', but this I could probably explain.
"Full moon," she shrugged, "But not a bright one. Enough to see by, but it'd suck to try to read by."
I nodded, the darkness around us appearing to be a blue-lit noon to me. "I think when Panacea and I healed you, we upgraded your eyes. Sorry."
"What for?" she laughed, giving a twirl as she looked around. "This is grea-get down!" she hissed, dragging me over to a fence.
Looking at where she was pointing, it was the same bio-metal figures I'd seen before, slowly running down the street. Standing up, I pulled her with me. "They're harmless. They're some sort of Echo, see?"
I created a star, floating it over to them, outlining their too-thin bodies in purple light. They moved forward at a glacial pace, ignoring the burning hot ball directly above them, one raising an arm to shoot an invisible gun over the top of a destroyed house, the recoil shoving it back slightly as it slowly righted itself and kept running.
Quenching the star, I lead her on, deeper into the city. She was uncharacteristically silent, and kept close by, but I didn't comment on it.
It was two hours later, and we were almost done. Our task had taken us to where the yelllow zone edged the green, north-west of the city, and I could tell that my little brother was securing the areas around his base first. Bad practice if I didn't already know where he was, or if he was going to share his reports with anyone else, but a good tactical move otherwise.
The cognitohazard had been a mild one. As we'd approached a building, we'd became increasingly sure that it held the answer to what we needed. What I needed was a way to kill Scion, which, no matter how frustratingly close it seemed, wasn't going to be in that building. Mouse didn't say what she was tempted by, but did help me find the limit of the range, a thirty foot circle based on something inside, which I'd raised a rubble barricade around, growing out the letters 'warning, cognitohazard' in wood on a railing that ran along the barrier's top.
The first anomaly was mild, lowering the temperature as you got closer to it, half the building it was in iced over. Leaving Mouse behind to guard my rear, I'd headed into the building, the inside covered with frozen floodwater from the fight. As I approached its source on the third floor, my own breath freezing solid, I'd found an ice wall blocking my way. Breaking through that had opened up a room covered in snow, somehow at a lower pressure, the inside near vacuum.
I'd held my breath, using Aerokinesis to keep the air from rushing in. What little air already inside had frozen as it came in, turning to snow the same color as already covered the floor of the room. Flying inside, I'd been glad my Immunity was protecting me from what must've been damn close to absolute zero. Fully covering up, I'd brushed away the snow, revealing a frozen body, perfectly preserved. It was a woman, her face fearful, holding an orb, from which the cold had been coming from.
I'd held perfectly still as my Power Sight activated, giving me an insight into her Flame, which was thready and weak. I hadn't noticed it at first, Seeing no more than embers I'd mistaken for light shining off the ice, not having realized that there was no light here. Cryogenics Tinker. I'd seen what'd happened here easily, the frozen mass of water that'd broken through the far wall, an enormous clawed arm reaching towards her, told me enough. Extruding an iron ball from my belt, I'd pulled back a finger-tip and Marked it and carefully placed it in the ice. The metal had frosted over instantly, but hadn't cracked, my Mark intact. At worst, I'd be back to put her out of her misery. At best, . . . I needed to talk to Panacea.
Returning outside, I took a moment to stare back at it before walking away, Mouse shooting me a questioning look. "TinkerTech. Need to talk to some people before I mess with it." That'd gotten me an understanding nod, and we'd moved on.
The other anomaly hadn't been nearly as harmless, or as positive. The team that Æonic had sent out here had lost half their members, the survivors reported the others seemingly cut in half as they'd entered the area. With our armor, this wasn't a threat, but it also required a bit more caution, in case I was wrong.
I was.
We smelt it long before we found it, whatever that had been cleaning up the streets of the dead not having done so nearby. Finding the laundromat that marked the edge of its range, it was obvious that something was wrong, even beyond the small piles of rotting, decaying flesh. One of the buildings was collapsed, parts shaved off the neighboring building. Nothing in the area of the anomaly was larger than four inches on a side, from the pieces of rubble, to the remains of the cars, to the bits of rotting meat, though the insects there were very happy. Oddly enough, while the pavement was cracked like crazy, the ground seemed intact.
I'd had Karen, who'd gone silent as we approached, throw some rubble in, only for nothing to happen. Grabbing a larger chunk, she'd tossed that inside, only for a sound like a wingbeat to ring out and the large piece to be cut in half, both parts clattering to the ground.
Extruding a t-shirt on a string, just to have something to test my theory on, I'd tossed it inside. The sound rang out again, and whatever it was struck. Instead of either cutting the dimensional fabric, or doing nothing all, it'd hit with tremendous force, blasting the fake fabric deeper in, the thread I was holding dragging me forward like I'd just been yanked by Leviathan.
As I'd tumbled forward, and Karen had started to try to grab me, I'd shoved her back with air while focusing on the Marks back at base. Five more wingbeats sounded, all on top of each other, and I'd felt five of my shields discharge, blasting me even further forward and breaking my concentration. I'd been pushed forward even faster, slamming into a building on the other side of the zone as what sounded like a dozen wingbeats started to ring out, only to be cut off as I flew through the building on the anomaly's other side. "I'm fine!" I'd called, as I found myself stuck mid-way through somebody's bedroom door. "Gimme a sec!"
Carefully prying myself out, I'd taken the long way around, finding a worried Mouse Protector. "Okay, that's going into the 'Cordon this the fuck off' category," I'd cheerfully announced, the crystalline shields still not back yet, but, thankfully, I was unharmed.
"You okay?" she'd asked, looking me over. "I tried to grab y-"
"I appreciate it, but don't," I'd told her. "I can take a hit from an Endbringer. You can't, at least not yet." I had smiled at her as I'd stressed, "This is really fucking dangerous, which is why I'm doing it. I appreciate the help, but there's a whole range of stuff that I can survive that you can't, and I'd rather keep you alive."
I'd flicked out a piece of wood from my belt, fully manifesting Dryad. Not being subtle, I needed her here if someone spotted me. After running roots through the ground, I'd started growing branches of wood upwards. The cuts whatever this thing made weren't clean, like I'd first thought, but had hit with enough force to appear that way. I'd encapsulated the area fully, any branch that entered being promptly sliced off, the danger zone turning out to be in an egg-shape. Growing out large metal letters that said 'Extreme Danger – Do Not Break', we'd left that alone and moved to our last stop, where we currently stood.
"So, what's here?" Karen asked, looking around, sword and shield out. "Bats made out of liquid fire? Horrible tentacle beasts that drive us mad just looking at them? Armsmaster in a Tutu? What?"
"Um, the phoenixes are more living fire than liquid, the tentacle beasts are poisonous, not cognitohazards, both of which are deeper in, and for the last, god I hope not?" I replied. "No, it's deep ones. Someone read too much Lovecraft, and lucked out into not getting something with a Master component, but then decided fighting Leviathan with fish people wasn't the dumbest thing in existence. I figured it'd be a good warm up for us."
"Warm up?" Mouse Protector asked blankly. "Right, warm up. After that cold-shoulder, I could do with some warming up!" she rallied, but it was obviously forced.
"Mouse," I said, her attention snapping to me, her gaze an odd mix of intense and unfocused. "Karen," I whispered. "Are you okay? You don't have to come if you don't have to. This is really isn't that a big deal." Something shifted some rubble down the street, and her weapon snapped up, her body so tense she seemed like she might snap.
"Okay," I announced, pulling back the sole of my boot and Marking the ground. "We're taking a five-minute break." Slowly reaching over, I laid a hand on her arm, and she twitched. I tried to move us both, but she resisted. "Mouse, they'll still be here when we get back."
This time she let me drag her along with me, back to base. We ended up in an elevator, one I hadn't even realized I'd left a Mark in, but I took it to the floor with the cafeteria I'd been using. Karen shakily put her sword and shield away once it opened up to a familiar hallway, and let me lead her to a seat, making her a cup of tea, as well as one of my own. She took off her helmet and Balaclava, her hair soaked with sweat despite the night being relatively cool. Cooling the beverage with my power, dropping it to a more drinkable temp, I pushed the mug into her unresisting hands. She drank it greedily, downing the entire thing, before letting out a long breath.
"Sorry, Vej. I talked a big game, but couldn't perform. That's normally the guy's job," she joked lamely.
Sitting opposite of her, I took off my gloves, and she followed suit, taking one of her hands in both of mine, I pushed a slow stream of 'Get Better' across to her, hoping it'd get her out of her current state. She shuttered, before pulling her hand back. "Thanks, that. . . that helped, but I'm good Vejy-table. This ain't something you can heal."
"Then tell me what it is. I won't judge," I promised.
She looked up at me, then back down at her drink. "Can I have another?" she asked instead. I took the cup, brewing another the mundane way, giving her the time she was really asking for. Coming back, she accepted it, taking a slow sip as I slipped back into my seat. "I. . . I wasn't exactly helpful out there, was I?"
"On your first run in a situation you aren't used to, dealing with things completely out of your wheelhouse?" I asked her, smiling comfortingly. "Not really, but I wasn't bringing you with me to clear these problems, I was bringing you because you wanted to see, and I wanted the company."
"Some company," she muttered to herself.
Taking a second to check the entrances, then sealing them with hardened air just in case, I took one of her hands from her mug and held it in mine, not healing, just holding. "I appreciated it. Tell me, Karen. What's this about?"
"How can you do that?" she asked instead. "Go out and deal with all of that, like it's no big deal? I nearly made a mess of myself, and you were like 'Oh, that's just Steve the walking statue, he's cool. We play poker every other Tuesday. What's that, something that can kill someone in an instant? Just a spot of bother. Tally ho!' It's insane."
"One, I don't talk like that," I said. "Two, I hid in the shadows the first time I spotted those statues for, like, an hour before I so much as said 'boo'. Three, this is the second time I've been out there."
"Then, the street, and the tentacles, and the firebirds?" she asked.
I nodded, "My first foray, when I didn't have any intel, just a feeling, because I was a moron. If you hear nothing, but see a flash of blue moving at the edge of your sight? Teleport back home. If you get the random urge to do something you've never done before? Teleport back home. If you see something weird when we're out there that I haven't briefed you on? Teleport back home. The city isn't going anywhere, and I have a contact who's scouting it out in a timeline that never was, don't ask. I'm just tough, stubborn, and if I don't do anything, no one else will. If you don't want to help me do so, I won't demand that you do."
"I should help!" she insisted, not looking at me, but not pulling her hand away. "I'm a hero! I should do this. I just. . . I just. . . I'm just not sure I can," she finished, quietly, ashamed. "What if I'm no good. What if I get you into trouble. I thought I had a good thing going, I thought everything was hunky-freakin'-dory. Then. . . then they got me. . . and she. . . and she. . ."
Mouse Protector fell silent, and I wasn't sure what to do. This was a woman who'd been captured by the Slaughterhouse 9, and been worked over by the stuff of nightmares. She'd been pushing forward, but something she'd seen tonight had brought it all back. Letting go of her, I walked around the table and sat down next to her, bringing her in a one-armed hug. She leaned against me, not crying, but shivering violently, and I was just there for her. We stayed that way for a good, long while.
I sipped my own tea, not saying anything, just giving her time. She pulled herself together, after a bit, finishing her own drink, not moving to get up. "You said it was a 'creature nest'," she finally stated, after a while. "You're going to kill them. Aren't you."
"Yes," I replied simply. "In a day that never was, that knock-off tribe of Deep Ones jumped the squad that was exploring completely unprovoked, killing two and dragging another off into the building they're set up in. One went in after her, while the other escaped, as they'd been ordered to. They don't know what wouldn't happen if none of them survived that possible future, which is why she ran, which is how I know. The ones that died? They just get nothing when they see the tomorrow that might've been, which means they died."
"Time travel is such bullshit," the woman I was holding, complained, though without heat. "So, they're monsters?"
"Undoubtedly," I agreed. "If they were just spotted, I'd likely try to make contact. These things are violent, and homicidal, even if they haven't killed anyone we know of. No one will mourn their passing, and they're close enough to the green zone that, if they go hunting, they could very easily grab someone who thinks they're secure. For that, I'll kill them all, and make the city that little bit safer."
Karen didn't say anything, so I kept on talking. "If you don't want to be part of that, that's okay. Honestly, I wouldn't ask most of the people in the PD out on this kind of job. Heroes come in a lot of flavors, some go out and wow the public with their charm, charisma, and terrible one-liners." I squeezed her shoulders slightly. "Maybe I could do that, but not while there's dangers lurking in the dark. I'm a hero, but I pattern myself off the heroes of old. Musashi, Beowulf, Gilgamesh, people like that."
"Those guys were assholes," she pointed out.
I shrugged, "Yeah, but they dealt with the really bad things. I need to eventually find a way to kill a God, Karen. I should be able to handle what's out there. If you don't want to, that's okay. You can try again later, or if you never want to again, that'll be okay too."
Mouse Protector was quiet, but finally asked, "But you'll still go out?"
I shrugged again, "Someone has to. Might as well be me."
The woman next to me took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, before sitting up fully. "Then you're not gonna do it alone. You're a 'hero of old'? Then I can be too. Even got a named sword and everything!"
"You named the sword," I couldn't help but point out, not wanting to stop her, but not wanting her to get herself hurt trying something she wasn't ready for. She was older than I was, but with what she'd been through, if she wanted more time, I'd gladly give it to her.
"And that's how I know it's named!" she riposted. "I'm a hero. You're a hero. Heroes kill monsters. Those things are monsters. Let's go be heroes, and then I'm gonna go get some sleep, and you're gonna sleep with me!"
"Sounds good," I replied, before I fully processed what she'd said. "Wait-"
"Nope! You agreed! And heroes don't go back on their word! The ones that did don't count!" she announced, grabbing her balaclava and quickly putting it on. "Now let's go slay us some monsters!"