Diversification 20.10

Flying high, I carried a fully-grown Dryad body, a touch of Sonic Flight pushing me forward faster, but Acoustokinesis captured and negated the sound I created before it could spread, Aerokinesis opening up a low-pressure corridor right in front of me to make it even easier. Looking down, I could see two different gangs going at it, one group coming from the street, motorcycles parked nearby, the others were coming from the docks, from one of the ships.

Interestingly they didn't have gang colors, but gang themes, the land-bound side all wearing denim and dark leather, every one of them wearing a patch depicting vertical white and red stripes. The sailors, on the other hand, looking almost stereotypically so with their dark blue and white horizontally striped shirts and pure white paints, matching the first group's baseball bats with odd handled wooden rods, metal chains with long knives. Picking out the Hosts was easy, identifying a number of powers as I descended, Taylor giving me intel, narrating what she found for me aloud, for the insects around her to hear and relay.

"Bikers are the Sons of Liberty. Based in Philadelphia but they travel, like the Teeth," she reported. "Other is Fisher-Kings, they move by sea. Sometimes go after sea traffic, mostly smash-and-grabs on coastal towns."

With her location known, it was enough to respond with Acoustokinesis, creating the sound of my voice next to her, "Heavy hitters? I'm seeing brutes, a speedster, a hydrokinetic, an asphalt-kinetic, a couple changers, and more."

"I'm not sure," was her response. "Different groups move around. If you see a fifteen-foot-tall fish man or a guy driving a living bike, that's the leaders, but they might not be here."

I was closing now, and replied with a short, "Noted," tossing Dryad towards the bikers, as I moved towards the sailors. Picking out a Host whose strength scaled with humidity, and could spit streams of pressurized fluid, I dropped down on him, hard, though barely enough to crack the asphalt, amplifying the sound slightly to ring out across the battlefield.

Behind me, Dryad spun in the air, tendrils shooting out of her arms to lash out at a Host that was animating a golem made out of road, binding his hands together, which didn't stop the asphalt-kinetic, the gestures he'd been making apparently not needed, but Taylor, not hesitating, turned her construct around and started slamming the man into the others like a living flail, which caused his construct to start to flail as well.

"Excuse me," I greeted the gang-members around me with a smile, the Host below me flipping over, trying to cause me to fall, but I just floated in place, seeing the pressurized spit coming, and only dodging enough that it was an inch away from hitting me, not that it would've done anything. Without changing expression, I turned and kicked the Brute in the head with enough force that he was sent skidding away, lightly landing on the now clear patch of street. "I'm Vejovis, I'm an independent hero, I'm a monster slayer, I'm far stronger than any of you Hosts, and I'm new in town. So, how bout we stop all this silliness and talk like adults?"

There was a moment of indecision among the criminals, and I wondered if shock and awe actually worked, only for one of the Hosts to slap his hands together, Arm Cannon power flaring, limbs melding into a naval gun as he set his stance, and, with a boom, fired a cannonball right at my face. Tracking it, the projectile seemed oddly slow, and I stepped aside, diverting it with Aerokinesis, sending it whipping past my head, and into some of the gang-members. It hit one square in the back, and, with a crack, I could tell the man's spine snapped, but his body was oddly intact for the strength of the blow.

Viewing the Host's Aura, I found the answer, the 'cannonball' not an actual iron ball, but a projection, requiring far less force to move, though there was a variable yield option, and I could see him reaching for the next one up.

Ah, they're playing with kid gloves, I thought, smiling, starting to calmly walk towards him, only for the Hydrokinetic to try and slam a column of water into me, one which curved as I dodged, hitting hard enough to pop a malleable shield on my right arm, enough to pulp a lesser being.

Or not, I amended, as the fluid started to thicken, trying to hold me in place, pulling at me to try and rip me apart, keeping me still while cannon-boy charged up a stronger shot. The water tried to force its way down my throat, but the power was Manton Limited, though by continuously ramping up the pressure outside of my mouth the Hydrokinetic had found a workaround.

Metal tendrils blocked my nostrils, holding off the attack easily, and I sighed, my own Aerokinesis far stronger, able to push the fluid back, as I shook my head. So rude.

I was, however, thankful for the handy anti-Leviathan power that had been practically gift-wrapped for me, and, with a number of open Minor slots, pushed it into place, the Azure & Maroon Flames of Fluid Strength intertwining with my own Sea of Flame, my physical capabilities skyrocketing, submerged as I was. There was a way of shifting the enhancement values around, but I didn't need it, as, fully charged, cannon-boy fired, the water in front of my chest opening up a split second before. With a thunderous retort, the attack screamed in, only to hit a malleable shield, and stop, cold, breaking that protection and nothing else.

The Host stared at me with wide eyes, and I winked back, before, with immense strength, ripped my limbs free of my aquatic prison and strode out of it, heading towards my would-be executioner. The water rippled, coming for me, but, going for maximum ridiculousness, I threw a hand behind myself, sheer strength enough making a small shockwave, which Acoustokinesis amplified enough to send the water exploding away.

"Not bad," I told the kid. "And good teamwork. Now lets see if you can take as much as you can dish out."

The Host, who seemed to be Taylor's age, dropped his power and fell to his knees, arms spread apart, yelling, "Mercy!"

I hesitated, as the Hydrokinetic summoned another attack, and considered that. Eh, why not? I thought, talking to both Host and Shard, "Granted. Fire another shot tonight, and it will be revoked."

The boy, maybe Taylor's age from his voice, nodded, and I turned on my heel, charging the Hydrokinetic, pulling a tight wedge of air around myself as I met the raging torrent head on, feeling strength filling me as I leapt into the flying river, an interesting sensation as the power took the kinetic outputs I created and multiplied them by a set variable, while simultaneously decreasing the kinetic energy that was effecting me by the save amount, one that increased as I let the solidified air lessen, until it was only a thin layer around my body, the water trying to crush me only serving to benefit me.

I'd barely slowed, my own flight giving me a constant thrust vector that didn't shift in force like my steps now did, and I was halfway to the hydrokinetic before she realized the fact that, even though she was giving me her all, it wasn't enough. As I Saw her power, I could tell what she was doing wrong, using far too broad a grip, a firehose when a waterjet would've done far better.

Not that she'd survive long enough to learn. They'd gone lethal, and done so right off the bat, in a way the Fenway Players hadn't, which meant the 'Unwritten Rules' were in abeyance.

Because that was the thing about treaties, formal or unofficial.

Breaking them had consequences.

The woman, who wore a coral tiara, eyes wide, instead called the waters to herself, forming armor of her own, lifting her up, suspended within. It compacted, showing the woman did in fact, know how to pull off that trick, creating a barrier that could cut through steel if weaponized. I paused, to appreciate the technique, learning it, wondering if I could do the same with air. This Hosts power was a Minor one, the woman at the edge of her abilities, but doing fairly well with it.

If only she'd come to the PD.

There was a gunshot, which I deflected, and looked over to see a sailor with a rifle.

He fired again, but this one I caught, diverted to impact a Wind Barrier I formed over a palm, catching the flattened slug. "Do you mind? We're having a moment," I informed the shardless-man, tossing it back at him.

I would've missed, not used to the enhanced strength, which I realized probably had taken the original user a while to get good with, assuming that the Host had bothered to in the first place, but air control cured many ills, which let me still hit the man in the shoulder, as he went down in a spurt of blood. Turning back to my foe, I said, "Now-"

She'd, of course, started moving as soon as I looked away, and I'd let her move, twisting to the side and leaping towards the floating woman, around her side, slamming a fist into the construct. To my surprise, while I hit strong enough to crumple steel, and my blow did break her armor, the water didn't just destabilize, like my solidified air did. The hard to compress liquid didn't dissipate, but erupted, a touch of Hydrokinesis urging the spray forward to try and blast me back.

Copying it, I made the layer of air around myself erupt in kind, negating the effect. Pulling more in, I toggled Sonic Flight and leapt with a ringing boom, slamming a fist into the construct hard enough to break it completely. The Host tried to protect herself from the kinetic force now rippling through the fluid, wrapping herself with more hardened water, but the shockwave raged through her medium unabated, and that was all I needed.

Spiking the 'sound' in an instant, the Host's body burst, the woman not particularly tough, and the waters dropped away, no longer controlled.

"Next," I smiled, turning, the ground in front of me rippling, Flames sparking within, giving me a moment's warning before an armored, tinkertech motorcycle emerged, coming right for me. I tried to dodge, but it was too heavy to deflect with Aerokinesis, moving too quickly, and it slammed me right in the chest, right into my shield-less ribs.

However, even without the shield, I was enhanced by the waters, the metal under my skin, a thin layer of air over that, and my own ever-improving biology, which meant that, while I was picked up and thrown back several dozen feet, I was bruised, at the most. Hitting a building, not hard enough to drain another shield, I floated there, looking down at the Host of Road Phasing that hit a button on her vehicle, a dozen tiny missiles firing from the bike, arcing up and out to come towards me in wide spread.

Rays I couldn't stop, but things that flew, and so slowly at that, weren't an issue. I threw myself forward, flying right for her, as the Host hit another button, two small machine guns opening fire, the caliber far too small to actually do anything to me, deflecting off my armor and shields as I closed.

Swearing, the Host in motorcycle leathers pulled back on the handlebars, tilting the motorcycle into a wheelie, the front metal tire unfolding into a buzz-saw blade that glinted with what looked like diamond-tipped edges. Another button was hit, and a small rocket-booster flared from the top of the front spokes, slamming the attack down on me in an instant.

Cute.

Lifting a hand, I caught the blade, near-molecular edge meeting Dimensional Shroud, and losing. Metal shattered and went flying, shrapnel hitting some of the nearby criminals, possibly helped just a little by yours truly, tearing through them in a bloody display. Dragging the bike to the side a little, I looked at the helmeted rider, her leathers painted to look like the statue of liberty, the Host looking at me in fear through the eyeholes in her crowned helmet.

"So, does this thing come with an ejector-seat?" I questioned, grinning.

Reaching for the Host, she hit a button, and, from the back of the seat a black sheet emerged, folding out. I hesitated, just long enough for the woman to leap backwards, passing through the material as if it were water, revealing a dotted yellow line running down the middle, as the bike beeped.

"Holy shit, it does!" I laughed, throwing the hyper-tech motorcycle up in the air as hard as I could, then throwing a sheet of hardened air around me, as the thing detonated in a spherical blast of nuclear fire. Huh, I could've tanked that, I thought, surprised, but Tinkertech was tricky if I couldn't read its purpose through the Shard of its creator.

Then a line of pure white lanced down for my head, impacting the shell and flash-freezing the gas into an opaque solid. Turning to look up, following the line of the attack, it led to a buildin'gs window, and I dodged to the side, another line of white coming for me, stopped again by my shell. There were no insects in the room to look through, but I could feel the shifting of air that suggested someone breathing, the faint sound of a man swearing coming through Acoustokinesis.

However, before I could do anything else, there was an odd sound, then the crack of splintering bones, and a head was tossed out the open window. While the inside of the room was out of sight, I spotted The Morrigan's power flicker in nearby branches, and nodded to her, murmuring, "Thanks."

You are welcome, she replied, disappearing, and I turned to my next target, only for a long string of autotuned gunshots to go off, several of the remaining thugs seeming to sprout blossoms of containment foam.

Leaving the Shardless to their fate, I sighted in on one of the biker Hosts, this one able to build up kinetic energy when in motion, which he could then spend in a variety of ways, but Herb dropped down on him with a bone rattling roar, as a royal purple dragon of all things.

The Host blurred to the side, moving with commendable speed as Break hit the ground, shattering the asphalt and concrete, tail whipping out and sending enemies sprawling.

To the side Gauge came down, wearing a harness that glowed, the entire thing reading through his own Shard as a 'Small Arms Deployment System', and I had to laugh at how far the boy had cheesed his power, proud of the Host. Theo's Shard was flaring like no tomorrow, the boy spinning about firing shot after shot, each and every one hitting targets despite their attempts to dodge, some dodging into them, while Herb went after the Enemy Hosts who possessed enough combat capability to not be locked down by the Tinker's containment foam-shots.

Sighing, I could See their powers strongly enough to know that, as much as I wanted to join in the fray, doing so would just be getting in their way. Of the powers I possessed, Blindspot was the one I understood the least. I couldn't suppress it, not, if I was being honest, that I wanted to, but I did wish I could at least whitelist a select few users that I, if not exactly trusted, at least had faith wouldn't betray me in the middle of combat.

Sadly, while I had been able to track down my Peak Condition and Immunity powers in my Core, my Power Sight and Unlimited Shard Works escaped me, as did the source of my Blindspot, or the Plot Convenience which was really just a low-level precog-specific Master ability. If I had direct access to them, I might've been able to tweak them to allow myself to work alongside combat precogs, but it eluded me.

Walking over to a nearby building, I leaned against it, waiting and watching, enjoying the interplay of powers at work. Taking a copy of that, and that, and sure, that too. It wasn't quite a Shard buffet, that was the two mass-combats I'd been in before, as. . . absolutely terrible as those experiences had been. Which meant that the next one we got involved in, we were going to arrive at in fucking force.

Regardless, as fun as this had been, we were here to stop the fighting, and I could admit that the other two, with Taylor assisting through Dryad, were far better at handling threats without, well, doing so permanently.

To each their own.

Glancing over at Mr. Cannon-Hands, he was still kneeling down, staring with wide eyes at. . . oh, the spot where I'd pulped the hydrokinetic, just a few lumps of gistle left behind. Well, as long as he stayed down, he'd survive. Looking back to the others, they were wrapping up, and I pushed off the wall, walking towards the cops, who were huddling behind their car, staring in amazement, hearts beating so hard I could even pick them up with Acoustokinesis.

"You two alright?" I asked, and they jumped, too focused on Herb, which was fair, as he was a twenty-foot-tall dragon. "Any injuries?"

"B-Bill got hit," the female officer said, looking at her partner.

I nodded, "Hand please?"

They both looked confused, but the Hispanic main reached out to me, and I opened up a hole in my glove, sending my power to help him 'Get Better', leaving the power on full blast for several seconds before I let go, and the man, shaking a little, lifted his shirt, the bloodstain barely visibly against the dark blue, hand running against his side, only smooth skin left.

"You want a tune up too?" I questioned his partner, who, hesitantly, nodded, and I took her hand, giving her a shot of healing/enhancement as well. Letting go of her, the woman's expression was odd as she stared up at me, so I prompted, "You wanna call in the PRT? We've got this locked down."

The man nodded, so I left them too it, striding over to Herb with a spring in my step as he shifted down into human form. "Not bad, not bad," I congratulated. "Pretty good showing, if I do say so myself."

Break's power flared, and he looked over to the remains of the hydrokinetic. "You killed Breakwater."

"She tried to kill me first. Her and cannon-arms. I just returned the favor," I smiled. "And I'm much better at it."

The other man's copy of Gauge's precog flared some more, and his shoulders dropped as he sighed, nodding. "Yeah, that's what Broadside said. The kid," Herb explained, gesturing to the teen who'd tried to blow me away, now bound with grown wood around his hands and feet, both of which in such a way that his limbs couldn't touch each other.

"Any idea what set this off?" I questioned, realizing he'd used Gauge's power to produce instant, theoretical interrogations.

Break nodded, pointing to the sailors. "They came in to do a job next week, paid for by someone in Charleston. That's in South Carolina," he added before I could ask. Turning towards the bikers, he continued, "They finished a job a few days ago, and were hired by someone to keep the Fisher-Kings from doing whatever they were hired to do."

"And what they were here to do was. . .?" I questioned, getting a frown from the other man.

"Won't say. Or, they say a bunch of different shit," he amended. "But they didn't get called in today, so it wasn't 'cause of you."

Which, if I was being honest, was going to be my next question.

"Okay then, should we stay and talk to the cops?" I queried, another flare of power from the man making him grimace.

"Not if you don't want to be here for hours. They're gonna shit bricks over this. Heroes here normally fight, and capture a single Villain. Not. . ." the man looked around for effect, "seven, along with most of both of their gangs."

That got a laugh out of me, "Pffft, amateurs. Cops and robbers shit only works until-"

A feeling of Ȅ̸̝̗̘̤̘v̷̧͇̮͎̎̀͆͐ė̷̝͎̬͗̓͒̇r̸͖̩̹̄͋̓͝ỳ̶̡̳̬͇͊t̵͚́̑̿̾h̴̬̘̞͓͝ì̷̡̞̻̮͑͝n̶͕̜̔͝͝ġ̸̻̪͚̭̠͛̒̈̏'̷͓́̌̀̒s̷̡͔̝͍̎ ̵̣̌̾̄Ņ̵̪̼̻̈́͒͑͘͝ͅo̷̤̠͕͌̄͗̾͠r̴̨̡̲͎̕m̸̹̙̓̀͛̍a̷͕͍͈̲͆̑̍̈́̚l̴̻͐̕͝͝ͅ slammed into me, provoking a growl of red-hot rage from my lips as I looked around, trying to find its source.

"Dude, what's up?" Herb asked, going silent as I lifted a hand, spreading my senses out, to the foam-covered thugs, the wood-bound Villains, the two cops standing now but keeping their car between them and the rest of us, and the nondescript man calmly walking towards me, a glowing blade in his hand.

The perfectly harmless fellow DEAD MAN FUCKING WALKING casually strode towards me, and I could see The Morrigan starting to gather her power, but she wasn't needed as I turned and stared at the normal person ENEMY MASTER.

"Uh, hi," he commented, not breaking stride, hand tightening on his blade, obviously a piece of Tinkertech. "I'm a fan! That wa-"

Which is when I grabbed a nearby motorcycle and hurled it at him as hard as could, with a wordless snarl of fury.

The man's eyes widened, and he tried to bring his weapon up in a futile gesture. The blade cut through the vehicle as if it wasn't there, but with how fast it was going, that just meant he was hit by two halves of the vehicle, each going several hundred miles per hour, instead of a single piece, his body exploding to gore in an instant, knife breaking and coming apart into far more pieces than should've fit into the handle.

There was a beat of stillness, before Herb swore, "Oh fuck!" and grabbed me, teleporting away, the both of us landing in the CARV next to a wide-eyed Taylor.

"I, I didn't," she started to stammer, apologizing, and I held up a hand, the all-consuming anger having vanished the instant the assassin died.

"Master effect, and a strong one. Worked through perception," I told her, recalling the Flame that I'd seen, but not focused on, as the Host had simultaneously been not a threat and about to die anyways. "One of Accord's?" I questioned, looking to the two of them.

The two others exchanged looks, shaking their heads. "Dekotara, head back to the hotel!" Herb commanded, before turning back to me. "Nah man, I'd never seen him before. Here or in the futures. Or, if I did, I didn't notice."

Taylor frowned, brows screwing up in thought. "No. No, I, I can remember what he looks like, but I don't know where he came from. I feel like I've seen him before, though, but not here. Maybe back in Brockton Bay?" she questioned, and I stiffened. "No, no, before I met you!" she reassured me. "I, I don't remember where, though."

Break made an odd gesture, as if pulling up on invisible reigns, and Gauge appeared a moment later, called by Break's copy of Quinn's Summoning power.

"So, who sent him?" I asked, knowing their precog could gather answers far faster than I could.

However, looking at the other three, they had no answers, though Gauge's Flames did flare, as did Herb's copy of the same, the boy telling me a moment later, "We don't know. But, Vejovis, we've stopped assassins before. Ones trying to kill you. And now you're out of your fortress."

"Fortress?" I questioned.

But I got what he meant, even as Taylor helpfully supplied me with the answer of, "Eclipse, or just New Brockton Bay."

Taking a seat, I sighed, not having considered that angle. I was very much the face of the PD, and the owner of NBB, so. . . that made sense? I just hadn't expected something like that, though, hadn't there been another assassin moments before, waiting for me? The one with the cold-rifle, not that cold ever bothered me anyways. Or, perhaps, that'd been a member of the Fisher-Kings, and we'd just had come in swinging so hard we hadn't spotted him.

Not Accord, I thought, as we had a deal, and that man worked through complex plans, not the chaotic mayhem of massed combat. But. . . who else was trying to kill me? I wondered.

"Maybe. . . maybe we should call it a night," I said slowly, Herb nodding, but Taylor gave me a worried, considering look.

"Are you going out patrolling?" she asked, and I nodded.

Herb frowned, objecting, "But, you almost got merc'd!"

However, I waved his worry away. "I'm sorry, who took out the Stranger assassin in three seconds? Don't worry about me guys. Short of an Endbringer-level threat I'll be fine, and there's someone I need to meet."

Break didn't look happy, but shook his head, not fighting me. "Fine, but be careful."

"I will, as much as I ever am," I agreed honestly, which didn't exactly mollify the older man, but he nodded in agreement. Shaking his head again, he laughed, commenting, "We did make a. . . splash today, didn't we?"

"Dude, that's terrible," I groaned, smiling at his pun. "But yeah, we did. Makes me wonder what's gonna happen tomorrow."