Cauldron

The only sound in the entire room is the shuffling of papers. A rather archaic means of transporting information, especially considering the resources that Cauldron had at its disposal. But there was a finality in paper. Information could be printed once, read, and destroyed, allowing only responsible parties privy to the information contained within.

In this instance, Contessa's latest progress report.

The agent in question stood not two feet from Doctor Mother as she looked through, standing guard as the ever responsible sentinel. On top of the Doctors desk, the latest numbers from the Fallen. The fanatics were losing members at a considerable rate. According to this, Number Man's work paid off. The money trail that he'd created led the PRT straight to the members base, and as expected, it was annotated. Those that fought back were crippled, and those that surrendered were currently sitting in a cell awaiting interrogation.

Afterward, they'd be thrown into the standard cells if they were lucky, and the Birdcage if they were not.

Speaking of the prison, it failed to meet the projected population estimates. Not a complete failure, the project was meant as a holding ground for when the worst happens anyway. It seems, as expected if you start a rumor of what happens to those that don't comply with the unwritten rules and then ensure that said rumor happens to any that don't believe, you earn yourself an underworld of believers.

The door opened, but Contessa didn't move, and Doctor Mother didn't look up from the report. Only two people were allowed to enter this room while she was reading. One of them was on Earth Bet, keeping to his duty as the most powerful hero on that world.

The other crossed her arms in Doctor Mother's periferal, and the good Doctor moved the top page of the report to the incinerator next to her.

"We have a problem," Alexandria said.

Doctor Mother nodded, not entirely unexpected. There was always a problem in their business.

"I've just received a call from Eidolon. Kaiser is dead, the Teeth have started to subsume the remains of Empire 88."

Doctor Mother's gaze narrowed. That was problematic.

The Doctor looked to Contessa.

"Inform Number Man, if he sees anything, report."

The enforcer nodded once, sending the message with a few clicks on her phone as Doctor Mother allowed herself a few seconds to parse through the information.

With the Empire gone, that left only four major players within the United States as a whole, with smaller subgroups only serving to annoy the real threats. The only exception were the few groups within Brockton Bay, which only survived as long as they had because Cauldron had a vested interest in keeping them active. But in this case, the four groups would carve out what territory they could before solidifying into more permanent positions.

The Teeth would remain in the west coast but would deploy substantial resources in order to maintain their hold on New York and now Brockton Bay. The Ambassadors would be their immediate competition. Accord's army all but controlled the East coast, their territory stretching all the way down to Florida and as far out as Texas where they were stopped by the wall of machinery courtesy of the Dragonslayers. The once Tinker only society had branched out to greater business after the competition had been snuffed out in the last great power vacuum. What was left of the United States paid tribute to the Teacher.

Impressive groups, but manageable with a few well-placed moves. The Teeth and Dragonslayers had been in Cauldron's debt for some time, they could be contained if required. Accord was easily disposable in the event that he stopped producing viable strategies. Teacher, however, might prove to be a problem. The parahuman had been consolidating power for almost three years at this point. Every day that passed increased the chance of him seizing power from some of Cauldron's more beneficial organizations.

Though, in hindsight, the situation was predictable. After the fall of the Slaughterhouse, parahumans, both cape and villain banded together in increasingly larger numbers for protection. Smaller villain groups tended to fade into nothingness, least they had parahumans within their organization that could make up for the colossal power disparity.

And even then, the possibilities of them surviving passed the first Endbringer attack was minimal.

"How many were lost?"

"No civilian casualties," Alexandria said.

Unfortunate. Vengeful civilians made easier customers.

"And as of right now, we don't know how many Empire members fell protecting Kaiser. Legend has already allowed temporary support to Brockton Bay to give us more eyes on the ground. I estimate we'll have an exact list of the lost within the week."

"See that we do."

Once the numbers were calculated and expected losses accounted for, Contessa would give the list of those acceptable to be targeted. The Teeth would lose some of its structure, but the chances of other groups taking advantage, and the possibility of civil war within the organization, would more than likely be minimal.

If not, it would be contained and monitored.

"How many were captured?"

"Not as much as we would like," Alexandria admitted, "A majority of the non-powered operators were taken into custody. As for the critical members, Fog, Night, Crusader, and Alabaster have been detained."

"And the rest?"

"No report."

Doctor Mother nodded, soaking in the information. Even with the empire gone, the remains would more than likely try to regain some semblance of power and protection. It might take a few months, or even a year, but the remnants would come together or form their own smaller groups.

The empire's three lieutenants, in particular, would be enough to form groups around, if they hadn't fallen defending Kaiser. The soldiers would gather around them, spread out, or possibly remain in Brockton Bay.

She looked to Contessa, the enforcer moving for the first time since Alexandria arrived.

"Look into the Lieutenant," she ordered, "Take account of their financial dealings and trace their calls."

"And the soldiers?" Alexandria asked.

"Send out a public search for them, but the Lieutenants remain a priority."

"Orders when they're found?" Contessa asked.

"Confirm their ties and financial dealings. If they can be contained to the Bay, Coil can do with them as he wishes."

Contessa nodded, and in the corner of her eye, Doctor Mother knew that Alexandria agreed with the plan. With so much territory up for grabs, Coil would make strides to obtain it himself. He wouldn't want any loose ends, just as they didn't, if only to make sure that he could bring enough firepower to bear should the Teeth start to break into whatever business ventures he's made.

There was a pause, and Contessa suddenly started to walk to the door. As she opened it, Number Man was there, laptop in hand. He gave a single nod of recognition to Contessa before taking her place in the room. Without prompting, he takes the one available seat and booted up his laptop.

"Medhall Corporation is going public. News of Mr. Ander's death has hit the market and the sale of the companies shares is happening in a week."

"How many investors?" Doctor Mother asked.

"In Brockton Bay alone, there are twelve. Three of which are legitimate. Outside of them, there are several notable companies that have expressed interest in being buyers."

"And inheritors?"

"There's a son, but beyond being said son, he's got no connection to the Empire," Number Man explained. The skinny man leaned back in his chair, "And until I can read Mr. Anders will, I can't say that he'll get anything or not."

"He's currently under protective custody," Alexandria added, "I can have Legend order increased security if need be."

Acceptable, but not an immediate concern.

"I'll leave it to your discretion," she said.

"I'll see to it as soon as the transfer is complete." Alexandria said.

Ah yes, the transfer.

Doctor Mother looked to Number Man.

"How many is it this time?"

The blonde man said nothing, fingers clicking along his keyboard.

"We can spare forty three samples."

Doctor Mother's expression soured. It wasn't as much as Doctor Mother would've liked to deliver, but it was still above the agreed trade. Cauldron would have to invest in trying to gather more samples afterwards to ensure they could maintain this amount of cargo at the bare minimum.

If all else failed, Alexandria could gather any that might be required for secondary payments.

Until then, however, it would be enough for at least a progress report.

"Prepare the shipment, we leave in an hour."

(X)

She waited for Alexandria in the Shipping Room. A rather inaccurate title considering it's function. The only thing that remained in the room was shelves full of every single record and progress report that they'd received since Cauldron started this grand business venture.

Coded, written in a language that would boggle even some of the greatest thinkers, so that even in the event that every parahuman on Earth Bet found this room, even they wouldn't be able to figure out what they uncovered.

Chances are they would go mad trying to figure it out anyway.

Doctor Mother glanced at her watch, and exactly on time, Alexandria arrived out of the elevator with Contessa beside her. Contessa was armed, a precaution, while Alexandria dragged the agreed upon cargo behind her in a small suitcase.

On the desk next to her, Doctor Mother grabbed the briefcase that contained their forty three samples. She turned to the wall just as Contessa gave the order.

"Door for shipment."

The second the word left her lips, the brilliant flash of light covered the wall, and a single red door appeared where none was previously. Doctor Mother took a deep breath, calming herself just as Contessa instructed that she must.

Anything less than a clear mind would be… affected by the space that Cauldron had dubbed: Earth Aza.

Contessa opened the door, Doctor Mother went in first with Alexandria close behind, and Contessa following close afterwards.

One the other side of the door, Doctor Mother turned around and looked up to see a massive cathedral staring down at them. Towering spires illuminated by the setting sun cast a shadow that stretched for what seemed like miles. It might've been a beautiful building, but Doctor Mother had never seen the front of the great structure. The door always appeared behind the cathedral, in an outcropping in the hill within the small cemetery that the cathedral had constructed.

It was, after all, the agreed upon entry point.

Here, no one in the city in the shadow of the cathedral would see them. The chances that a civilian from the city would come around here at the moment of arrival were astronomical. Even so, there was one person that did see them.

A grave tender that Doctor Mother didn't recognize. He was an older man, with a black robe, a scarf adorned with the church's symbols draped across his neck. He was surprised by their visit, almost dropping the shovel in his hands.

The minimal movement gave Doctor Mother a good look at the flintlock pistol hidden under his robe.

Collecting himself, he bows, gesturing to the stairway. Doctor Mother paid him no mind, leading her two companions up the small walkway to the main cathedral. They followed the paved road upwards, passing elegantly carved walkways adorned with armless, robed things that seemed to be bowing as they passed.

There were three flights of stairs before they could see the main gates of the cathedral, but they only went up the first set. On the marble stone, Doctor Mother rapped her hand five times in a succinct pattern.

The brick that was eye level was pulled out, revealing a set of bloodshot, tired eyes.

"The password?"

"Fear the Old Blood," Doctor Mother said.

The brick was put back in place, before the entire section of wall moved on a set of hidden hinges allowing Cauldron to see a long hallway lit by flickering electrical lights.

They've improved. Last shipment, they were still using candles.

The gatekeeper removed his tophat, bowing like the guard before him. The three women walked briskly through the hallway. It branched many times, but the three never left the straight and narrow path. Several church members came from these branches, adorned with cleaner, pristine white robes but they stopped when they saw them pass. Some of them bowed, but most simply stared, like predators looking at an incursion into marked territory.

All of them however, watched the three ascend the private circular staircase. Fifty steps, all leading towards a single private room at the edge of the cathedral, marked by a door adorned with the symbol of this church's 'god'.

Doctor Mother didn't bother knocking, the number of people that were allowed to even step foot up the stairs could be counted on one hand.

And he already knew they were coming.

Inside wasn't an office. What minimal space the area provided was put to use. Bookshelves lined the walls, each one of them stuffed to the point that their contents began to pour over, at risk of falling at any moment. Dozens of volumes of research, jars filled with tens of different samples obtained across the church's relatively short history, though that was simply from her perspective.

Beyond that, the good doctor's eyes flashed around the hundreds of diagrams of the human body's circulatory system that spilled off the shelves and ended up scattered across the floor.

The room's one occupant didn't care, or simply didn't notice, hunched over the long table looking under a microscope as three computers ran through a dozen calculations on the far end. Between him and the machinery, dozens of labeled vials containing crimson icor.

He adjusted his microscope, slowly straightening, turning a head of unkempt hair around to face them. The Vicar had the same tired green eyes that the Doctor recognized. Stress lines were carved into his face, and bags sat under his eyes. If he cleaned his face of the dried blood, and cut his hair, he would be classically handsome, if such things mattered in the end.

"Ah, Doctor Mother," Vicar Laurence greeted, arms wide and a warm smile on his face, "Welcome back to Yarham."

"A delivery," the Doctor said curtly, "As scheduled."

The vicar's stained eyebrow rose a notch.

"A delivery?" he asked, eyes wandering down to the briefcase in her hand and the suitcase behind Alexandria, noticing them for seemingly for the first time.

He turned, snatching a clipboard from the desk.

"You're early."

Early? The calculations put them exactly on schedule.

"Really, how long has it been since our last visit?"

The scientist looked at his clipboard.

"Five months."

Doctor Mother frowned, that wasn't what was projected. In the corner of her eye, she saw Contessa already sending a message to Number Man.

Not that this early arrival was an utter impossibility, a few days on Earth Bet could be anything from a week to a month on this earth. The dilation was a formula that had caused no shortage of headaches.

However, the thinker had been close to what he thought was the proper temporal inconsistency.
He'll need to rework his calculations. Any miscalculation that led to a late shipment had to be stomped out.

A consistent delivery schedule needed to be maintained.

"Oh don't be so hard on yourself," Laurence said, "The mysteries of the Great Ones twist and change all manners of perception. Failing to be on schedule makes you…"

He smiled, the action teetering on the edge of mockery.

"Like all of us here in Yarham."

"Then consider this early trade payment enough for a progress report."

Somehow, the man's smile widened.

"Certainly. Would you like me to explain it to you? Our symbols are rather… difficult for you to comprehend."

His tone changed. What once was respectful mockery soured to a low sadness. Even his smile was gone.

"We'll make do," Alexandria said.

"I expect nothing less of the church's partners," Laurence said.

He handed over the clipboard, the bundle of notes strapped to it as thick as a novel. He'd been busy these last few months.

Everyone seems to be ahead of schedule.

"Although, there is one piece of information that I think would put a smile on that dreery face of yours."

Doctor Mother lowered the bord, and behind her, Contessa stepped forwards. The Vicar was smiling again, but this time, his features were beaming with pride.

"We've achieved thirty sucessful cases of mergers."

Alexandria's head snapped towards him, and Doctor Mother's mind raced with possibilities.

That certainly wasvery ahead of schedule.

"Where are they?"

"At the workshop," Laurence said proudly, "The mentor is no doubt instructing them as he pleases."

"And if they get out of hand?" Alexandria asked.

A bubbling laughter erupted out of Laurence. A mad cackle that brought a tear to his eyes just from the words alone.

"Out of hand? Oh my dear, if any of them can so much as touch the seam of the mentor's coat, then I'm sure that we're already doomed."

Alexandria's face was as still as stone, but Doctor Mother recognized the twitch of annoyance in her fingers.

"Oh Laurence, if you were going to compliment me, at least wait until I've entered the room."

Alexandria turned, and Contessa had her sidearm trained on the new voice before Doctor Mother could even comprehend the implications of the new arrival. Slowly, she turned around, taking note of the rare expression of surprise on Contessa's face as she lowered her side-arm.

The action might've seemed rude, but the man before them looked more amused than threatened. A taller man, head and shoulders above the Vicar, classically handsome with a wide brimmed hat and long brown coat draped around his shoulders. On first glance, he looked like a groundskeeper, face muddied with sweat and grime.

Then you would notice the fact that the cane strapped to his back had a hidden compartment, and your thoughts immediately changed.

"Oh yes," the vicar said, turning back to his work, "Because the great hunter must be present for every wind that stokes the fires of his ego."

The man snorted out a laugh, and the corners of Laurence's lips twitched upwards once more. As soon as the laughter faded, Gehrman, the First Hunter, took off his hat, and bowed respectfully to the congregation.

"Evening ladies, here for a shipment?"

"Forty three samples for your use," Contessa replied.

"Fantastic," the Hunter said with a grateful grin, "I was hoping that you'd come soon. I'm almost out of your last gift. A project didn't turn out the way that I'd hoped"

"But you'd make do," Alexandria said, "How goes the Hunt Gehrman?"

"As dangerous and as silent as the night," the hunter replied cheerfully, "But as much as I want to use this rare opportunity to catch up, I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a hurry. So if it pleases you, I'd like to take the Vicar off your hands."

Laurence stopped, and Alexandria and Doctor Mother shared a look.

"Don't worry," Gehrman said, placating, "I'm only here to make sure that my new apprentice gets the finest treatment."

A new apprentice?

"Maria," Gehrman called to the door, "Introduce yourself to our guests."

There was a twitch as the door slowly opened. From the other side, a girl, barely older than seven by the looks of her stepped out. Snow white hair, crimson eyes and pale skin were the most recognizable features.

She bowed her head, trying to curtsy as best she could with her small frame.

"Please to meet you," she greeted.

Gehrman smiled at the display.

"Well done Maria," he said, and the child beamed at the praise.

"This is your new apprentice?" Doctor Mother asked.

She seemed more like the average stock that was taken to Laurnace's lab.

Doctor Mother gave the hunter another look. The First Hunter revealed nothing in his expression.

She cast a quick glance to Laurence. The vicar was as still as stone, his expression finally fitting of one that could be called the Founder of the Healing Church. The scientist was gone, replaced with an expression of one that only allowed logic and raw numbers to dictate his choices.

After a second, he set the vial down and got to one knee. He held out a hand, and smiled warmly.

"It's good to see you come to my church, Maria."

The child didn't move, still standing behind Gehrman.

"Come now, I don't bite."

"Not unless you beat him at cards," Gehrman quipped.

Laurence rolled his eyes, the expression of annoyance enough for Maria to laugh a little bit. Afterwards, Gehrman gave her a little push closer. Laurence kept his hand steady, and the warmth of his expression only grew when Maria took his hand. Gently, as if handling a glass sculpture, he led her over to his desk.

"She's young," Alexandria noted.

"We all are when we start," Gehrman said.

Alexandria didn't say a word for the rest of the exchange.

(X)

There we go, another chapter another step towards the rest of the story.

Hope you enjoyed, and the next one will be coming soon.