AN: I have as promised been working on the previous segment chapters with my Beta. I've already updated the Insight Interlude. For anyone who hasn't read it, go check it out. An informational thread mark has also been created for them, and I will post updates on chapters letting everyone keep up on what has been updated so you can check. I do recommend rereading the interlude as its basically been rebuilt completely even if the core elements are all still the same.

The air around me was heavy and oppressive. It was an unusually humid night for the Bay, and it felt like I was back on Yamatai. Mosquitos were feasting on everyone and everything en masse. I was swatting at them in annoyance as they came near me. With my reaction times I kept them from turning me into a buffet just like everyone else. But for all my skill in killing a human, insects seemed to defy me with ease, slipping away only to attack moments later.

I was seated on a hard metal bench next to Dad, while surrounding us was a group of Dockworker families with children attending Winslow. There were families whose children didn't attend Winslow and even those who didn't have children at all. The stadium pulsed with an energy that was palpable. The first Friday night football game of the season had drawn a crowd of thousands to watch.

The first quarter had gone by quickly and the Winslow Lions were losing by only a few points. Uncle Kurt and some of the others kept muttering how we just needed to get in field goal range. Apparently our kicker was good enough that college scouts were eying him.

I sat through all of this smiling politely while clapping and cheering. But I didn't share any of the enthusiasm of those around me. I was here because Dad had always been a football fan and was himself an alumni of Winslow. I was alone in a crowd of his friends.

It was three weeks into the school year and I barely knew any of my peers. There was Aisha of course, but she wasn't here. She was off with her apprenticeship. As for the rest…

In the rare moments I passed Emma in the school halls she still refused to talk to me. She hadn't tried to ostracize me like the other girl she bullied, but that didn't matter. I still found making friends to be difficult. The students in my classes were younger than me by an uncomfortable margin. Physically, I was three years older than them. But beyond the physical age gap, how did I relate to these children that I had nothing in common with? While they complained about their weight, I remembered the agony of going days without food. While they obsessed about boys, I contemplated how to establish my kingdom. It was like living a separate alien life to those around me.

I glanced around at the students sitting with their families nearest to me and listened to their inane conversations. Who would win this year's state championship? Were the nachos overpriced? My survival instincts implored me to be aware of my surroundings, but I was so bored listening to them I finally allowed myself to tune them out.

The only thing I had in common with these people was that our families worked on the Docks. When I had simply been Taylor, the average 14 year old, I could count myself as one of them. That was what felt like lifetimes ago, before Yamatai. But here? Now? They were as far beneath me as Aegis was to Alexandria..

So I sat there politely clapping and cheering as social custom dictated until halftime was called. Both teams filed away to the locker rooms with the score unchanged. Beside me, Dad stood and stretched his arms above his head in an attempt to get the stiffness out of his body from the hard metal bench.

I mirrored his movement a moment later, needing to get up and move around. As I stood, I turned to him and spoke.

"Hey, I'm going to go walk around. Maybe get a hotdog or a pretzel from concessions."

He smiled at me as his hand reached for his wallet.

"Sure thing little owl. Need any bread?"

I shook my head. Despite my taste for decadence and luxury as Himiko, I still retained Taylor's frugality and willingness to make do with what was available. One day I would know the luxuries of being a living god, but for now I lived simply as Taylor. My fiscal spending reflected the same sensibility. Even after I sold the first of the relics I had taken from Yamatai to Whitman's old antiquities contact, I had continued to live sparsely. My new small fortune sat quietly in my closet until I could get it into a bank of some kind.

Of course I still kept cash on me in case I ever wanted to buy something small.

"No thanks I'm good. Do you want anything Dad?"

He smiled as he put his wallet away before nodding.

"I'll take a soda and a pretzel if you're offering."

I nodded, remembering his order as I turned and walked away. I made my way down the stands and through the crowds until I hit the concession booth. As I looked at the lines I noticed something that gave me an epiphany.

The concession's stand had five lines of various people. On the left side I saw a line of mainly white fans. On the right side, an Asian majority. Sighing and shaking my head, I moved towards the center line. It amused me that parents of both the ABB and the E88 would be in attendance and cheered for the same team, but outside this stadium were mortal enemies.

But at some level this made sense. They all cared for their children and hoped that their sons would beat the odds to receive an athletic scholarship for college. Despite how illogical it was, I could understand it.

I idly glanced around and noticed one of my Stormguard standing in line. A light mental probe revealed that the woman and young girl standing beside him were his wife and daughter and they were here to watch his son play. In an effort to not give away our connection, I glanced away as his eyes found mine. He gave me the slightest of nods, in lieu of a bow at my presence.

Minutes passed as the lines slowly creeped towards the front. Finally it was my turn to order and I asked for two cokes and two pretzels. The girl behind the counter took my cash and gave me back my change efficiently, clearly exhausted from working tonight. I moved to the side to pick up my order and internally marvelled at the foreign feeling of exchanging money for goods. After all those years away, the thought receiving food without killing it, or even just preparing it myself was just a little bizarre.

My order in hand, I started making my way back to the stands. I was almost back to Dad when I heard a sound I didn't recognize; it was a voice coming over the loudspeakers. I might have just dismissed it but something was familiar about their voice and it had me on edge. There was something specific about them that I faintly recognized and I knew it signalled trouble.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. Boys and girls of all ages. Welcome! To Madden 2012! I'm your announcer for this evening, High Score! I hope you all came ready for a FOOTBALL GAME!"

My gut sank immediately. Oh fuck.

That's where I knew that voice. High Score.

He was the third member of the villain group Gamerz. Originally it had been a duo of Uber and Leet for almost two years, but a few months before I'd returned they'd picked up High Score. With his recruitment everything had begun to change.

According to the internet Leet was a Tinker who could make anything once. Uber could become a master of anything in just minutes. Neither were a particular threat by themselves, and they had previously stuck to small time jobs. They would put on shows where they would act out video games, playing the characters and commit acts of robbery, vandalism, and in some cases casual violence. They avoided anything that would get them taken down on the popular video sharing sites. But because they held back from hard violence and mostly limited themselves to property damage and theft, they were considered a joke. On top of that, they had always been good at escaping custody and fleeing to an unknown base.

High Score was what, or rather who, had changed all that. Unlike the other two, who based on their accents were Brockton natives, High Score had originally been a villain out of Vegas. It was still unknown why he'd come to the East coast, but what he'd brought with him was what the internet referred to as the Rankings Boards.

For every villain like Jack Slash or Heartbreaker that were simply evil for evil's sale, eight to ten others were just in it for the money. This meant that there was a huge market for gambling on the less sadistic Parahumans. A few years back, a villain known as Numberman had supposedly created a website where capes that were invited could compete. Fighting against each other or against civilians would receive rankings and payouts for wins and losses. Capes and unpowered civilians could bet on the fights. In only a few years of being online it had become an underground sensation that everyone obliquely referenced on forums but never directly provided links to.

Gamerz was now one of the groups that were in the Rankings. And with that came both an escalation of their performances and more dangerously, their resources. Rankings might generally be considered distasteful, but no one denied that participating paid well. Which meant that one of the biggest wildcard tinkers in the world was now well funded.

Pushing my way through the crowd I shoved my pretzel into my mouth and bit down to hold it in place as I shifted the rest of my concession's haul to my left arm and pulled my cell phone from my pocket.

I immediately attempted to dial 911 but Gamerz were smart enough to jam the cell signal. Cursing, I extended my thoughts around me to reach my Stormguard. I found eight of my warriors in my limited range. I gave each of them orders to escort their families away off property and then to find me.

As I reached the edge of the crowd I found the tunnel from the locker room to the field had been blocked off by a forcefield of some kind. Winslow's players were no longer wearing the black and orange school colors but instead wore what I vaguely recognized as Chicago Bears uniforms. They were all moving in synchronized choreography as they proceeded through a dance. Even the coach was participating at the front of the group, as they did what one parent who stood beside me described as the 'Superbowl Shuffle'.

Turning and hopping lightly to see over the crowd, I noticed the other team emerging from the guest locker room wearing uniforms of green and yellow. No doubt they were another professional team that I didn't recognize on sight.

Both teams moved onto the field and were clearly part of this stunt. I probed out with a mental thought into the mind of one of the players and I found a kid younger than me screaming inside his mind as his body moved without his volition. I could end this if I found the trio of villains. The hard part started once I did.

I gave up on holding onto the sodas and pretzels, setting them on top of an empty bleacher seat next to me before trying to push and shove my way through the crowds. Meanwhile on the field, the two body hijacked teams were beginning to play while the villain continued to make announcements over the speaker system.

"And here we are for Madden 2012. Tonight's Bears - Packers game is brought to you by Anonymous Gamblers. For all your parahuman gambling needs and desires, check out AnonGam. And now to the field where the teams are lined up. The Bears have won the coin toss and deferred to the Packers who have chosen to receive the kick."

One of the home team (now in blue and orange uniforms) punted the ball and the teams started charging on the field at once. When this had happened in the first half, the player who caught the ball had taken a knee and the play had stopped. Now though he started to run forward as every opposing player charged straight at him.

I stared in mild horror as he dodged the first of the players that were trying to tackle him, until three of the players slammed into him from different angles. Screams echoed up from the crowds, watching in horror at what they had just witnessed.

"Eighteen yard return on the kick. Oh and it looks like he wasn't cut out for professional play. We'll just let the medics clear him off the field and then get back to the game!"

God damn those bastards. It was one thing to murder and kill because that was what it took to survive. I'd done that enough times to have lost all remorse for those I'd killed. It was another thing to maim and cripple a teen for sport, laughs, and because some sick people were betting on it. From everything to how long before the villains were forced to flee, to points scored, and injuries.

I decided in that moment that while this was completely outside my plans and goals, it didn't matter. I refused to turn a blind eye.

This was my home. This was my land. And this would be my kingdom.

I was not about to just let others casually destroy the lives of my unknowing subjects before my very eyes.

That was a privilege I reserved for myself alone.

I ordered my Stormguard to begin searching for the three villains. The sooner I found them, the sooner I could end this madness.

On the field the game was resuming after the mastered players and staff hauled away the crippled student. Spectators were divided between trying to pound on the forcefields in a fruitless effort to break through, staring in horrified fascination, or running in terror.

I yanked the bandana used to cover the shaved head of one of the E88 student sympathizers from his head. I heard him shout at me but over the screams of the crowd I couldn't hear what epithets were thrown at me. I quickly tried to shove my way forward and to the side, seeking a short path to the announcer's booth. As I ran, my hands wrapped the bandana around my face in the most impromptu mask ever.

I ignored the smell of the sweat soaking the fabric. Compared to bodies and rotting flesh on Yamatai, this was nothing, practically a cool summer breeze.

At that moment one of my Stormguards mentally informed me that the announcement for the game was made in a booth at the top of the home team's stands. I immediately turned and made my way there.

My path towards the booth was stymied by the press of the crowd. Unable to make any headway as another wave of horrified screams erupted from those still watching I turned and ducked under the bleachers. Quickly making my way through the forest of metal posts and struts I glanced to my left between metal bleachers. The mastered medics were running onto the field again as another child was laid down for the villains amusement.

My teeth grit together in anger as I heard the first drops of rain hitting the metal above my head. My fury brought the storm into existence. I was amused by the irony that the PRT and Protectorate would come now despite the cell jamming and forcefield. The damage was already done by letting the storm come into existence at all. My fury had let it build in the skies above as drops of rain continued to drizzle down.

I reached the middle of the bleachers and jumped catching an X strut. My arms pulled me up as I climbed my way up towards the announcer's booth above me. I slowed the amount of rain, not wanting it to impact my ability to grip the metal. I climbed higher and higher until I pulled myself up the back of the bleachers right beside the announcer's box.

As I swung myself over the bleacher railing, I landed with deliberate softness. I doubted anyone would be able to hear my footsteps over the noise of the crowd, but years of survival instincts couldn't be turned off. Carefully, I approached the door of the announcers booth. It was a worn wooden door that was stained with age, and fortuitously it had a simple rusted lock I knew I could pick.

Slipping a bobby pin from my hair, I glanced around for approaching danger while I snapped it in half. Using the keyhole I bent one piece at its end to use as a tension wrench. I lightly applied force with the wrench while manipulating the tumblers with the other half of the pin. Not needing to see the lock to pick it, I kept my head on a swivel while resting my shoulder on the door to sense any vibrations from the other side.

Finally I felt the tension give and the cylinder turn. I slipped the makeshift picking tool into my pocket and stepped back to prepare myself.

My advantage was stealth in this situation. I was going into an unknown room against multiple possible parahumans. I didn't have my bow or guns, and the full power of my storm was something I was keeping hidden for now. Deciding I needed to see what I was up against to properly strategize, I delicately turned the door handle and slipped it open.

Thankfully the downpour I had started made enough noise on the roof that the occupants inside didn't notice the partially open door. I closed it behind me and pressed my back to the corner, partially hiding myself in the shadows. Standing in front of the window overlooking the field were three school officials. They were unmoving and their body language was slack. But lazily sitting behind them holding the PA microphone was the person I focused on.

It was a man in an all black bodysuit. A sci fi looking mask covered his face, with faintly glowing blue lenses over his eyes. Several tinker looking gadgets were attached to his belt. I realized this must be High Score, considering Uber and Leet were much more recognizable. He was still narrating the game below gleefully as another player was smashed to the ground. I felt my blood boil at his callousness.

Going up against a tinker was dangerous and unpredictable. They were just average humans, but their inventions were varied and countless. Realizing that I had no qualms about executing him, the storm above us rumbled. Obviously I needed to be quick and efficient so that he had no chance to use his inventions against me.

I looked around for something to even the playing field and spotted an open toolbox sitting on the cabinet to my left. Carefully grabbing a flathead screwdriver from the top of the pile, I gripped it tightly like I would my Ka-Bar knife. High Score was still casually sitting in the chair, calling the plays without a care in the world.

I crept up behind him with the screwdriver poised at the ready. I aimed for the space between the skull and the spine. I found when fighting the Solarii that this was the most efficient spot to stab and kill them quickly and quietly. As soon as I was within striking distance I lunged and connected with the back of his head.

Except I hadn't taken into account how armored his costume was.

The tip of the screwdriver bounced off the back of his helmet, vibration rattling up my arm. High Score rocked forward, almost falling out of the office chair.

"What the f-"

That was all he managed to say into the microphone before I attacked again. I lashed out with a palm strike to the back of his head which sent him tumbling forward towards the mastered officials. He tried to stagger upright and turn to face me, but before he could I grabbed him in a choke hold. Grabbing at my forearms in panic, he made a pained grunt before throwing me over his shoulder.

I effortlessly rolled to prevent slamming into the floor, but when I sprung up and turned I noticed he was reaching for something on his belt. Having dropped the screwdriver during the roll, I darted forward and aimed a feint punch at his head. High Score raised his hands to protect his face which allowed me to fire a knee strike into his solar plexus. Despite the body armor, he still grunted in pain and doubled over slightly. Since his hands were now at chest level, I quickly grabbed a finger and twisted.

A sickening crack and scream echoed through the small booth. Now that I had him at my mercy, I realized I needed to make sure the mastering could be stopped. In anger, I punched him in the throat and shouted.

"How do I stop it?! Huh?! How the fuck do I turn this sick game off?!"

I still had a grip on his wrist which I used an aikido wrist lock and threw him to the ground. When he only let out a sad whimper and no answer, I proceeded to step on his hand and grind my foot into it. He shrieked pathetically.

"If you don't tell me right now, I'll make the last minutes of your life the most painful you've ever experienced"

I raised my foot up to slam down on his face. But before I could, the most intense burning pain shot up my other leg and left me paralyzed. I tumbled bonelessly to the ground, spasming on the floor. A burnt ozone smell filled my nostrils.

It finally ended and I could finally feel more than just agony and fire. I must have fallen to the floor at some point. Looming over me, High Score had a strange looking gun with tiny arcs of electricity leaping from the end pointed directly in my face. The blue lenses glowed sinisterly, reflecting the sparking electricity that had caused so much pain.

"You know I was just going to knock you out. But now you've really succeeded in pissing me off. Bitch."

Over the sounds outside of screams, crying and my storm a noise began to swell, like a buzzing or a hum.

Above me the piece of shit reached down and yanked the bandana from my face, tearing the fabric before tossing it to the side. Outside the hum was getting louder and louder as those blue glowing lenses of High Score's mask got closer.

"You know it's a shame I'm going to kill you. You'd have been fun to have in bed."

His gloved finger ran alongside my face. I twisted my head trying to bite it and he pulled his hand back quickly before he punched me in retaliation. Since my head was already on the floor it meant the punch hit me with its full force. I growled through the pain. Laughing at me he just put the tinkertech gun back in my face and did something to make it start to emit even larger bolts of electricity.

"Hasta la vista, baby!"

I tried to roll to the side to avoid his attack, but he never got a chance. The moment I saw his finger tighten on the trigger, a massive wave of what looked like bugs slammed right into him.

The sound was like a million angry wings screaming as too many insects to count enveloped him. A second later I could hear his screams of terror mixed in with the angry hum of flying insects. They completely ignored me lying there stunned on the ground to attack him. I tried to kick at his ankles to put him off balance, but he was already stumbling away from me and all I kicked was air.

Staying low I crawled my way out of the announcer's booth until I was sitting with my back leaned against the wall outside, panting as inside High Score's screams continued.

Beta: AlteredMiles