Seizure 18.Z (Legend)

Legend froze, looking at the crystal formation that was all that was left of a Hero whose ability was to grow crystals, that he could then fire at his opponents, capturing them. A Hero who'd been Manton Limited, except, it appeared, for the moment of his death.

Unbidden, two facts that he'd learned years ago rose in Legend's mind. The first was that a person's powers could be manipulated by altering their brain's connection to their Corona Pollentia, the formation of tissues that connected a person to their powers, specifically, the Gemma, the part that let a person control their powers. Cauldon had, early on, tried to see if manipulating that would let them either enhance a person's power, or cut it off completely, for parahuman criminals, before they'd, regretfully, gone with the formation of the Birdcage.

Their experiments? They'd looked a lot like what'd just happened.

The end result of altering someone's Corona Pollentia was almost always deadly, the function blackboxed in a way that Contessa couldn't help with, and even when doing so didn't kill the parahuman, it always, always left them worse off than they were before. Changing the connections to the Gemma Corona Pollentia always went worse, and half the bad interactions the people they gave vials to were due to pre-existing Gemmas in non-triggered potential parahumans becoming corrupted by the process, the connections malformed.

Then there was the second fact. A terrible fact. The truth behind how the Simurgh could rewire a person's mind. It did so literally, making incredibly tiny alterations to a person's brain, changing connects so that, when just the right impulses went through it, something would break, and the damage they'd do would be devastating. It wasn't a publicized fact, and the Simurgh had to take time to understand a person's brain before it could do so. That was the reason behind the fifty-minute time limit per fight, and thankfully the time between fights served to reset the clock.

Except it had only been half an hour, at most.

That meant two important, horrifying things. The first? That the time-limit, just like everything else they thought they knew of the Endbringer's capabilities, was wrong. And the second? That the Simurgh could induce instant death in any Parahuman nearby, just as surely as Behemoth, the Hero-Killer, could.

It just hadn't bothered.

Until now.

And, despite himself, Legend froze, paralyzed by fear and indecision. What did he do? What could he do? David was cycling through powers next to him obviously trying to find a way out, but nothing was working. Looking back along the barrier, it was a perfect hemisphere, except for a slight deformation at the top, where a truck-sized, spinning, ring-like device sat on a thickened cushion of force-field, the coloration deeper right below it as the device twisted and, from the center of the ring, the forcefield spread.

"Pull. . . Pull back towards the center," Legend said, looking at the golden force-field that was keeping them from escaping.

"We're just givin' up?" A parahuman Legend didn't recognize scoffed, charging the barrier. Stopping right before it, she pulled a fist back and slammed it into the force-field, or at least that was her intention. Instead of impacting the golden wall, the parahuman's fist passed into it, dissolving in a long electric buzz, the woman unbalanced by the lack of resistance, pitching forward.

Legend shot forward to try and catch her, to pull her away, feeling like he was moving through molasses as he shifted to Light sooner than he should've. He grabbed her by her remaining arm, dragging backwards, and throwing her to safety.

A moment too late, the corpse missing a large portion of the top of its head, and most of the face, as it landed limply with a wet splat, the field not cauterizing the wounds like they sometimes did.

Charging a fist, Legend gestured with his other hand. "I said get back," he ordered, and this time, they listened. With enough space to avoid possible blowback or other effects, he flew backwards himself, slamming a beam into the shield. If it'd rippled, or crackled, or anything else, it would've given him a clue on what to do.

The barrier absorbed the blast as if it didn't exist.

"Well. . . shit," he muttered, moving over to David, who blurred, his image becoming more and more indistinct before he snapped back to reality with a growl. "Any luck?"

"Does it look like I'm having any luck, Legend?" Eidolon snapped, before shaking his head. "Screw this," he muttered, glancing backwards at the Simurgh, who was looking directly at them, the creature's wings spread as it lazily waved a hand, fist sizes pieces of something slowly coming together to form a larger shape. "You figure this out. If I can take out the Simurgh, we'll have all the time we need."

Legend started to object, but Eidolon blurred again, becoming indistinct before vanishing, coming back into focus on a rooftop near the Endbringer, blasting it with a glowing blue fluid that splashed against the device, causing it to explode like a bomb.

The Blaster, in turn, looked up, at the other device the Simurgh had created, still spinning atop the destructive field, not quite touching it. It looked like the field was thickest directly below the device, but it was otherwise vulnerable from attack from outside. The others, like him, had probably not tried attacking it at its seeming thickest point because, 'why bother?'

However, he'd had enough experience not to make assumptions on what things looked like.

Raising both hands, charging the strongest blast he could, he let out a beam larger than he was tall, which rose high, high in the air, the brilliant laser hitting the cap of shield to as little effect as his beams had hit the wall.

Legend dug his feet in and pushed, forcing his laser to hit as hard as was possible, enough to vaporize rock and melt steel in seconds, enough to send Alexandria flying miles away.

Nothing happened.

Dropping his arms, the hero sighed. Right, the Simurgh, he reminded himself. If it was possible to free everyone that way, then it would've stopped me. It explained why the attack had come at night. Without the warning Vejovis had given them, half of the people at the top of the United States government would've already left for the night, going back to their homes ending up well out of the range of the Simurgh's Cry. Or what we thought was the Simurgh's Cry, he amended.

Either way, half of its potential targets would be lost, but, during the day, it couldn't've hidden the barrier device high in the sky like it had. The black ring would've been spotted in seconds. But against the stars? When it came down towing a meteor storm? They'd all missed it completely.

Looking down, the others had pulled back a few hundred feet. They were looking to him for what to do. He had no idea what to do next, only knowing that showing that now would do more harm than good. He had to lead them. He had to protect them, these people who came here to fight the Simurgh.

You could've escaped, a thought came. If you'd abandoned Eidolon, if you'd run as fast as you could, you'd be on the other side of that barrier. You'd be safe. You'd be able to see Arthur again.

He had no way of knowing if it was his own thought, or the Simurgh's influence, never having been around long enough to be controlled by it. Only you have, haven't you, the thought, one that'd been in the back of his head, argued. Who knows how much of this the Simurgh has set up. How much of it is all according to its plan.

For a second he considered what would happen if they could throw just the Simurgh into the same shield it'd trapped them with. It was an amusing thought. Karmic irony of the kind that was so rare in the real world. Throw a precog into a deadly shaker effect? When she can see the future?

He snorted at the odd thought, getting looks from the others as he floated over. He hadn't meant to do that out loud. Simurgh Influence? He could work with it. "Well, that didn't work," he said dryly, getting a few nervous chuckles from the others. "Alright, let's head back deeper in. Eidolon's keeping the Simurgh busy, but-"

He cut himself off as another pulse came from the Simurgh, and the two who'd completed that stupid rhyme beforehand, a standard Brute and a woman who could fire blasts of high-pressure water, both screamed in pain, the sound cut off as suddenly as it started.

Both stood up straight in unison, just like the pair from before, expressions blank, before it cleared, just like before, both women paralyzed with fear, even as Legend yelled, "Get away from them! Take cover!"

Then they began to sing.

"All around the mulberry bush

The monkey chased the weasel;"

Legend wished he was a brute, to try to physical stop them. But while he was tougher than normal, he wasn't strong enough to stop the Brute, and he thought he knew what was going to happen to the other woman.

He still tried, shooting her with a laser, one meant to only impact with kinetic force, but the woman dodged before he even finished shooting, arms flailing as she obviously hadn't expected to move herself, and was losing her balance even as she sang.

"The monkey thought it had a good chance,"

And then she exploded. Flesh came apart as dozens of spheres of highly pressurized water ripped their way out of her body, while the Brute detonated like a living grenade, sending super-tough tissues out like shrapnel. Thankfully, no one was hurt, but two more froze, and stood, expressions blank.

"Pop goes the hero."

AB

It had been six hours, and they'd lost over half their number.

Only, according to Alexandria, it hadn't been six hours, it'd been closer to fifteen minutes, the stars, beyond the golden barrier, barely moving. As far as they could tell, the device worked on some kind of time-displacement effect, and temporal powers had always been thin on the ground, none currently present able to counter it. That was, however, why he'd been slowed, the speed of Light a constant. That was why, no matter which power David switched to, they never grew in strength over time as normally happened.

That was why no help was coming.

They'd done their best, thrown everything they had at the Simurgh, and it'd done nothing. They couldn't touch it, and it'd become clear that the ones that died only did because it let them. There was not a single friendly fire casualty among them anymore. With this many panicked, desperate fighters? Going for this long?

That didn't happen.

Legend's leg still hurt, but he had a feeling that the Simurgh had only let that happen to make him underestimate it. To stay, and fight, instead of running, until it was all too late. They'd had someone patch it up, and as long as they kept fighting the Simurgh, no one got hurt.

They only died.

Trying to stop a Singer got one hurt, but they'd found something terrible out, on the fourth iteration. The song came, as it did every five minutes, without fail, with one exception.

If they killed the Singer.

When, in one group, three had Sung, but one was killed before they could explode, only two finished the rhyme. The result had seemed obvious. if, instead of letting the Simurgh kill them, they killed each other, they'd survive. It forced them turn on each other to have a chance. Some, like Kakarot and Lightslinger had volunteered, knowing they had no chance and trying to help the others.

Other Singers had run, knowing their fate, but thinking that, unlike all those that had Sung before them, that they were somehow special. Some had gotten away, but most of the runners had been taken down, hurt, but never killed before they started to Sing. Legend had thought it was care that had led to none of the next round of Singers being killed instead of captured, everyone hoping that they wouldn't have to kill the people they'd fought beside, but now? Now he had his doubts.

No, some of the next Singers had run, but most? Most had stepped forward, knowing what was coming, and giving their lives if it meant their fellow heroes would live.

Legend would remember their sacrifice.

If he survived.

The Singers had been forced by the Simurgh to dodge of course, but the Simurgh had been unable to use their own powers while it set them up to explode. Kakarot had dodged, but massed fire had put him down, and Lightslinger had allowed himself to bound, Alexandria herself killing him. They'd both died, and the song had stopped.

For twenty minutes.

It was a horrible shock to find that killing their own didn't stop the Song. It only delayed it. And so they'd been forced to kill their own. Over and over. Each time wondering if they would be the next ones to Sing.

There were only thirteen Singers each time, enough for them to know when they hadn't found them all. It'd been all Legend could do, to keep the peace, when they couldn't find one, knowing that it meant an extra three of them would be dead, because of someone else's cowardice.

But, time after time, a majority stepped forward.

They cried. They raged. They screamed to the heavens. But they came forward.

Legend couldn't be more proud of them.

Legend felt each of their deaths as another icy knife in his heart.

Legend wasn't sure if he would do the same.

He wanted to. He wanted to know that, in those final five minutes, he'd put others above himself.

But part of him doubted.

And part of him wondered why he hadn't been forced to Sing.

They still fought the Simurgh, but their heart wasn't in it. Why should it be, when they knew the outcome?

David had screamed himself hoarse, picked up a power that had healed him, and done it again. He'd broken, after the fourth hour, sobbing, while Legend, Exalt, Alexandria, and others had taken up the fight, but it'd destroyed what little morale was left, seeing the strongest in the world like that.

Eidolon had collected himself but hadn't come back to fight again, using power after power in an attempt to get them out.

Legend hoped it was them David wanted to free.

But part of him doubted.

With enough capes running, and with the battlefield large enough to hide, the deaths were mis-timed now, but Alexandria kept them straight, managing their slowly shrinking group.

Legend knew they were breaking, that they were together now, but when there wouldn't be enough to force someone to stand, and be executed, more would run, and the deaths would accelerate.

And, behind everything, the hum of the barrier trapping them played.

It wormed its way into Legend's brain, more than the Song, a constant electrical buzz that taunted him. Every second of its whine was a reminder that, if only he'd been a little more selfish, he could've survived. If he'd just left David behind, he could see his husband, and his son again.

And part of him? An ever growing part? When asked if, given the chance, he'd abandon everyone to live?

It would.

In the moment, he'd tried to save his friend's life. But now? Now he wasn't sure. He'd seen what Cauldron had done. The sacrifices that had been made for the cause of saving everyone. He'd always worried about that before. That they were doing what was easy, instead of what was right.

It was why he'd always argued for going with the best of their bad options. Many times it wasn't the most advantageous option, the one that would move them the furthest forward. Many times it wasn't the most efficient option, the one that would make the most of their limited resources. But it had been the option that'd hurt the least, had caused the least damage, had been what was most heroic.

But now? Having fought a foe that he couldn't fight, as he was? Knowing if he'd just been a bit faster? A bit smarter? A bit more ruthless?

Now he understood.

Legend felt something shift, not in his head, but in his heart, and the pattern of what was happening suddenly became clear. Flying to Alexandria, he asked, with complete calm, "The Simurgh's going to leave us alive. Isn't it?"

Alexandria glanced in his way, and grimaced. "Most likely. Leaving us alive would do more harm than good. Even without crying, without affecting our minds, we'd be seen as. . . tainted. There would be questions of why we were left alive. If we die, we're victims, no, martyrs."

Nodding, the Blaster sent a half-hearted laser the Simurgh's way.

It didn't hit.

Surprise.

"Then. . . what do we do?" he asked, at a loss.

"We fight," Alexandria stated simply, turning to look at him fully. "Being left alive will leave perceptions of us as tainted, damaging the trust others have in us. Giving up will see it destroyed. That is why I insisted on the performing the mercy kills myself, and that you shouldn't. You need to remain the best of us, as you have always been seen."

Another blast. Another miss. "How long have you known?" Legend finally asked.

"After the second hour," she revealed, and he wasn't surprised. She always was faster on the uptake than he was.

He nodded. "And the reason you didn't tell me?"

Alexandria gave him a dry look, as she always could, even with her eyes covered. "Would it have helped?"

With a bitter chuckle, he nodded. "No. No it wouldn't've. How much longer do we have?"

"People will start breaking soon. Two or Three hours, and it will be over," she pronounced. "This part will be," Alexandria amended. "Show the others not to be afraid."

Legend nodded, tired in every way, but rallied. He could do this. He could give these people hope, however false. But part of him wondered if there was a point to it. Wouldn't this be over faster if they gave up? With the cycle as five minutes, instead of twenty, it'd be over.

And then they could leave.

And prepare.

And make certain this never happened again.

No matter the cost.

But he tried, he fought, he rallied the others, for another two cycles, and hesitated when it was time for the next iteration, when, by his side, he heard Chevalier's voice.

"Pop goes the hero. . . Oh shit."

Legend turned to a man he called friend, and knew he had five minutes left, and. . . didn't know what to do. He opened his mouth, to try to say something, even as Chevalier, shaking, stared at his own hands.

"I. . . I'm sorry," the Blaster offered, feeling worn away, but still trying to help. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so, sorry." He was friends with this man, and now, now he was going to die in five minutes. And Legend could do nothing. He wished he could cry, to have that emotional release, but there was nothing else in him, only bleeding emptiness.

The Philidelphian Protectorate Lead buried his cannon-blade into the concrete, took a deep, shuddering breath, and reached up, removing his helmet. The man, almost young enough to be his son, dropped it to the ground, and turned to look to Legend, jaw clenched as he controlled himself, before nodding, once, to the Blaster. "It's. . . it's been an honor sir," he said, offering a hand out to shake.

"The honor's been mine," the Triumviteer replied, taking the man's arm but bringing him into a hug. "I wish it was me," he said, quietly, and wasn't lying.

The armored young men held onto Legend, with desperate, fearful strength, before slowly letting go. "Feeling's mutual," Chevalier joked weakly, looking away. "I. . . I guess you should get someone to tie me up. I wouldn't want you to miss."

Legend tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come, and he looked up, trying to say what he needed to say, but unable to. Through the golden barrier he could see the night sky, unimpeded by any clouds. He hoped Scion would come, but he wasn't going to, not until it was too late. Just like at Brockton Bay.

Oddly enough, that thought helped.

Why?

Because it's not just us, he realized. While a large portion of the Protectorate was going to die today, maybe even a majority of it, there were others. Like Vejovis, yes, but really it was the others in the Protectorate that mattered. The Thinkers, and Shakers, and others that didn't have powers suited to a Simurgh fight.

And the Wards, the Wards would survive. That was. . . not a small thing. And he'd do his best to show them how, while being a Hero was good, surviving long enough to be a Hero, even if that was. . . distasteful, was better.

"You're. . ." Legend started to say, trying to tell him he was doing the right thing, but something caught his eye. Frowning, the Blaster stared, his enhanced eyesight catching a star that. . wasn't.

It wasn't Scion, it wasn't even person shaped, it was too wide for that. Whatever it was, it was white, pure white, only tinted gold by the barrier, and something in Legend. . . slipped.

He knew what he was supposed to do: try, and fail, and look good, but. . . if he didn't give it his all. Didn't fight to his last. Could he really call himself a hero?

No.

Pulling on his powers he floated. "If you have to, you have to," he told Chevalier. "But I'm going to do everything to stop it. After all," he shot a grin back, heart pounding in his chest for the first time in hours. "We're Heroes."

Chevalier blinked, before nodding, starting to smile himself. "I, I supposed we are." Pulling his blade, he nodded to the Triumviteer. "Once more unto the breach, dear friend?"

Legend nodded, taking off at full speed, past the others who weren't doing more than a token attack, and, with a hand full of light, curved around the Simurgh's defenses, even as it started at him with an intensity it hadn't had a moment ago, almost looking confused.

Moving to avoid the blast, the Endbringer twisted, rubble flying up to strike Legend, which he mostly dodged around, a piece of broken rebar bouncing painfully off a knee, but he attacked, with everything he had, beams scything out of every part of his body as he filled the sky in front of him with deadly light.

The Simurgh threw up barriers, back-peddling but untouched, a wide blast of kinetic force catching the Hero and forcing him backwards. Reorienting himself, he once more looked to the sky, to the every-growing star high, high above. He didn't know if it was a falling star, or help trying to come despite their sped-up time, or maybe it was nothing and he'd finally cracked, but he didn't care, something about it seemed. . . different.

Looking back down, he blasted the Simurgh once again, arrows of light spreading out, moving in almost random patterns, creating a cage of luminescence that curved inwards. Some were blocked by flying debris, others blocked by telekinetic barriers, but two, two got through.

Two of his beams struck true, one catching a wing, blasting several feathers off, while another struck it in the shoulder, burning the alabaster flesh of its shoulder, leaving the perfectly white skin marred by char.

He hit.

And the Simurgh Cried.

A blast spread out, ringing in his head, and he tried to move, tried to fight, only to find himself trapped in invisible bands of force. He was yanked forward, hundreds of other Parahumans pulled up along with him, from every direction. He was unable to move, trying to use his powers causing only pain, as more and more heroes were pulled up, every single one that was still left alive, arranged before the Simurgh in orderly rows as the creature looked upon Legend with confusion and hate, the likes of which he had never seen on the Endbringer's face.

Glancing around, the others looked confused, and angry, but a few looked hopeful.

"What did you do?" David demanded, voice raw. "How could you, when I couldn't?"

"I don't know," Legend laughed, shaking his head, which was still free, looking up once again, and seeing the descending star, which seemed to grow brighter and brighter. "I really don't know."

He was yanked forward, brought in front of the Simurgh, and, just like the comics he'd read as a child about, he fired his beams from his eyes, really his entire face, catching the Simurgh right between the eyes itself, and was yanked away from the creatures as it reared back in surprise.

"No!" Chevalier, a few dozen feet away cried, teeth grit in pain, but it could be that! It was a minute early, but, just as the others, his expression went blank, before clearing, showing fear, but resigned strength as he sang.

"All around the mulberry bush

The monkey chased the weasel;"

Looking up, Legend saw the star had come closer, enough to start to make out a shape but it was bright, too bright, so all he could make out was the impression of. . . wings?

"The monkey thou-" Chevalier started to sing, only to be cut off, mouth moving for a second but without noise. No, it wasn't just the singing, but all sound had cut out, the silence, bereft of even the eternal electric hum, almost painful in its completeness.

Legend tried to twist around, and found the telekinetic bonds. . . loose. Not enough to get free, but. . . yes.

The Triumviteer turned to light, slipping free, others starting to escape their bonds in the complete silence, as the Simurgh backed away, looking around, expression almost. . . almost fearful.

And then, reverberating through his bones, but not painful in the slightest, there came a song, one he hadn't heard in a while.

A whitebeam, tinged with gold, pierced the heavens as the first "Halleluiah' rang out, passing straight through the barrier generator as if it weren't there, the golden wall vanishing in an instant, the beam passing down to explode a full block of buildings, the shockwave enough to kill everyone, but petering off in an instant as the world seemed to skip for a moment.

Fall Back! Legend tried to command, but he could not make a sound over the sounds of the grandest rendition of the Halleluiah Chorus he'd ever heard, having instead to move, as, in an instant, everyone the Simurgh grabbed dropped, the faux-angel pulling back, letting out a screech that reverberated soundlessly in their heads.

Their savior, looking nothing so much as a twelve-winged, thirty-foot-tall angel dropped down from heaven, holding a glowing white sword as it came upon the Simurgh, who looked around blindly. The being cutting through one of the Endbringer's smaller wings, as the other hand, glowing pure white with only a hint of gold, gripped its arm.

The Endbringer's flesh sizzled soundlessly under the angel's grip, as it turned the panicking creature around, throwing it to the ground, the impact throwing up a small cloud of dust.

The debris showed otherwise invisible blasts of force that the Enbringer threw up with frantic speed, firing blindly, the Angel easily moving between them as it summoned a spear of Light, which it dropped down with, pinning one of the creature's larger wings with before striking with its sword, severing it.

Again, the Endbringer cried, and in return, the Angel seemed to almost trumpet in response, both noises completely soundless, and both pressing down on Legend with almost oppressive force.

Legend wanted to help fight, but he'd seen how that had gone, and this. . . this Angel had it firmly in hand. A small part of him wanted to run, and keep running until he arrived in New York, but that was the part of him that had wanted to leave Chevalier to his death, and that wasn't what heroes did.

No, he turned to the others and helped organize the evacuation, moving to those still scattered and directing them silently which way to go. The Simurgh cried, and the Angel trumpeted in response, causing Legend to glance backwards.

The Endbringer had gone high, and was raining attacks down on the Angel who sidestepped, dodging just as easily as the Simurgh had to their attacks before disappearing in a burst of light, reappearing atop a half destroyed building, and threw his burning-white spear.

The length transformed into a beam of golden-white Light the second it left the Angel's hand, forming an attack which punched up through the atmosphere in an instant. They were protected by whatever the Angel was doing, but distant clouds were shoved backwards as the beam sped into the darkness, but not before taking out a large portion of another of the Simurgh's wings with it.

The unstoppable engine of destruction, that was going to kill them all moments before, chose that moment to leave, turning and flying without so much as twitching its wings, rising up into the night sky.

The Angel looked around the field, locking eyes with, or at least facing Legend, before nodding, once, and spreading all twelve of its wings wide. With an enormous flap that sent winds blowing in every direction, it took off after the crude approximation of a member of the heavenly host, forming another spear as it followed in pursuit, the last of the music trailing off into the silence, which slowly faded, the sounds of normality gradually returning, gently, so as not to hurt them.

Alexandria flew up to him, as he watched the thing that had saved them leave. "Do you know what that was?" she demanded. "What just happened?"

Helplessly, Legend shrugged. "Not really. I'm not even sure that was a Parahuman, with how big it was. But I do know one thing."

Rebecca Costa-Brow, shook her head. "Changer forms often aren't that large, but it's not beyond the realm of possibility. What is it you do know?"

Legend, couldn't help but smile as he looked at his friend.

"I'm gonna start going to church again."