Alexandria
Alexandria sat on an abandoned Earth and waited. The golden body next to her was cold and lifeless, but had yet to start stiffening - much less rotting. Whatever Scion was made of, it still persisted even in death. She would be missed before too long, but Cauldron had even stricter protocols than the Protectorate and PRT combined. They also had Contessa, so this whole isolation issue would be resolved soon.
At least she hoped.
She just wished she knew what was happening on Earth Bet. She thought she'd done the right thing in carrying Scion's body closer to Dragon - or rather, one of her drones. The world was undoubtedly wondering where Alexandria was.
Or not.
She had body doubles for both her Protectorate identity as well as her PRT one. It was entirely possible that her absence had gone un-noticed in the aftermath of the fight. People most likely knew that Scion was dead, she hadn't been the only witness, but what else?
For that matter, was the Entity actually dead? Could it have abandoned its humanoid form? Did this make their ultimate goal easier or harder? It was almost a given that Scion had to have a 'real' body like Eden. In other words, was there was an alternate earth covered in golden flesh?
She wished she knew. She wished she had more to go on. She wished she didn't have five 'ability points' and a list of upgrades that would appear to her with a mental command. Power granting Trumps ALWAYS came with a downside. Teacher, Pastor, Maker, Galvanate, Bastard Son... the list went on and on. Too valuable to risk losing before the fight with Scion, but too dangerous to ignore.
Had that been Pixel's true power?
He'd certainly given Legend a power boost. Something that had been assumed to have been Tinkertech, but was it really? Was he just a more prolific Bastard Son? If so, what did that mean for her?
Her power had protected her from most Master and Stranger effects. Those that it didn't block outright usually possessed minor flaws her perfect memory could see through. Whatever Pixel had done was different. At least, she still assumed it was Pixel's doing. A last ditch effort to do something while he was dying. But what?
The flow of her thoughts was broken by a portal opening next to her. Doormaker. Inside she saw Doctor Mother. The older woman nodded to her. "Come inside and bring the body. We have much to discuss."
"So I've been cleared?" Alexandria felt hopeful. If they were letting her back into any part of Cauldron's multiple compounds, then she must not be a danger to herself or others.
Doctor Mother nodded again. "Yes. We're confident enough to move on to some more personal tests."
Alexandria hefted the body. "I still have the empowering Trump effect. It's working across dimensions."
"We know." The human turned and then paused to look over her shoulder. "You aren't the only cape experiencing the phenomenon. We have hundreds of confirmed cases across dozens of dimensions."
The Dude
Harold Lebowski trudged through the water-logged mess while looking at the ruins. What a disaster, but that was par for the course. It could've been worse. Much, much worse. The city still stood. The water damage was, quite frankly, nothing compared to past battle sites he'd personally witnessed.
Ah! There it was. He waded through the knee-deep water towards a corner of the building that was still standing. Water was a bitch and a half to move through while he was accelerated. How did a wanker like Leviathan manage to be so damn fast in it?
The Dude let out a sigh, and sat down on a relatively dry patch of rubble. He just needed five minutes to catch his breath, then he'd get back to searching for survivors. It was depressing to stay accelerated for so long. It really got to him after a while.
He pulled a rolled up joint from his bathrobe's pocket and lit it. Nothing expensive. Just mundane weed, and just enough to take the edge off. The world might be celebrating Scion's final blast. The most powerful and tirelessly heroic cape had died. Did he know it would take so much out of him? People still were hoping that they'd find his body somewhere and that he'd miraculously still be alive.
Harold knew better.
The Dude abides. That meant accepting reality. Scion was dead. The Simurgh was dead. The scales balanced. Of course, it wasn't as even of a trade as all that. Dozens of other heroes were also dead. Including Pixel.
Harold had never met him, but he had to admit the guy had style. The Dude hadn't gone to Canberra, the PRT wouldn't vouch for him. That was fair enough. Stretching time just meant that there was more of it for Ziz to fuck you with.
Not that Leviathan wasn't dangerous for him either. Drowning was no joke. Still, his risk was a lot less than what other heroes braved. He could accept that. It was the hand he'd been dealt, and it was the hand he'd play.
Still, a damn shame about Pixel. It wasn't as bad of a blow as losing one of the Triumvirate, but it was still the most significant loss after Scion. The Dude got the feeling that he would've been a regular at Endbringer fights - like Myrmidon, Armsmaster, or Chevalier.
Well, the world kept on spinning, and sitting here wasn't going to help anything. Funnily enough, that was when his phone beeped. He couldn't make or receive calls, but some smart guy had fiddled with it so that text messages got through.
He fished it out of his pocket, flipped it open, and read some good news. Peek-a-boo had found some survivors. To be more accurate, she'd watched some bug girl find some survivors and had sent him a message.
Harold waded through the water again towards the location she'd sent. This was important. If he was getting a message, then time was of the essence.
The Dude might not be able to kill the Simurgh or drive Leviathan off, but he could help move rubble fast.
Some days that was enough.
Panacea
"I've fixed as much damage as I can with the tissue available." Amy stood up and spoke to Kid Win. "Come and see me again after you've put on some pounds. With enough to work with, I can regrow your arm."
The brown-haired boy smiled at her. "Thanks, Panacea. You wouldn't believe how tough it is to Tinker with only one hand." The Ward let out a deep sigh. "Guess I'll have to take my mind off of things by eating instead."
Amy shrugged her shoulders. "I can reset your metabolism, so don't worry about that. Just concentrate on gaining weight for right now."
Kid Win stood up and saluted her. "Rodger that, doc!"
Panacea covered her smile with a hand as she shrunk back into her hood. "Enough of that. Get going. I have other patients to see."
"Okay." He waved at her and turned around. "See you after I manage to eat Fugly Bob's special." She heard him murmur as he walked away. "Might have to go in costume. The PRT will throw a fit if my hero and public identities are both seen without an arm and fat one day and skinny and with one the next."
Amy smiled. She couldn't help herself. The fight had been brutal - from what she heard. She had been kept safe throughout it. Other capes brought the wounded to her. She was full of energy, despite working practically non-stop since Scion's Sacrifice.
She had to hand it to Pixel, whatever he'd done to her power seemed to have worked. She didn't find helping out as tedious as before. Shaping people, saving them from a lifetime of pain, or just speeding up their recovery process - it all felt so new and wonderful. Of course, it might have had something to do with not really working much at the hospital much in the past couple of weeks. Or it might be because the capes that she healed were properly grateful.
It was almost enough to take her mind off of Pixel and Bit.
She felt guilty that part of her was sad just because she'd never get to play on the NerveGear again. It was a rotten thing to focus on considering the circumstances. Pixel was dead, and Bit had vanished. The PRT was up in arms over the latter. There was no evidence of foul play, but...
Well, it was a severe blow. Bit had personally saved the lives of a dozen heroes during the fight. Some that had been technically dead. There came a certain point where her powers just refused to work. A hard line after which there was nothing more she could do for them.
Bit didn't have that restriction. It was like something out of Frankenstein. Panacea wondered if the little girl actually had any limitations at all.
The two of them had made a great pair. Bit could bring practically anyone back to life enough so that Panacea could stabilize them.
Amy's phone vibrated. She looked down. It was a message from Carol. She rolled her eyes. She'd read it later. Right now she had more capes to see. Not to mention all the civilians that were non-critical. Whatever her 'mom' wanted, it could wait.
Hideout(a.k. Chrysanthemum)
Mary sat in the backseat of the car and stared out the window. The landscape sped by. She was bored, and had taken to playing I-spy with herself. In theory, she could be practicing with her power. Melanie, for all her flaws, was a pretty good leader. She had pointed out that if Mary could expand or contract her aura, she should be able to shape it too.
Unfortunately, it had turned out that she was right.
That's why Mary was in the backseat with Elle. The little kid wasn't bad, not really. Strange, sure, but who wasn't? Mary didn't especially like spending all her time with the prepubescent girl... but it still beat the alternatives.
Living in the forest had been... bad. She didn't want to think any more about it. Living on her own? Well, it might've been worse. Mainly 'cause she knew she wouldn't be on her own for long. She was too valuable, too pretty, too weak. The only way to survive was to find someone stronger.
Faultline wasn't the biggest or baddest cape around, but she did look out for her own. She inspired a reciprocate sort of loyalty. If she hadn't been on the up-and-up, Mary would've taken her chances on the street. Her power both made her hard to find, but easy to track down if you were looking. Thankfully, it hadn't come to that.
On the plus side, Faultline didn't really ask much of her or Elle. Gregor and Newter did most of the heavy lifting. Emily had to stay close enough to the action to use her napalm vomit. Mary and Elle got to hang back. Provide support. Never be seen directly - that was their motto.
Mary supposed it was fun enough, in its own way. She would've preferred to sit around and do nothing. The world was fucked up, so why bother? Better to find a place you can hide out in and ignore everything going to shit.
Did she care that they were tracking down some cape with a 'U' tattoo? No, of course not. That was Newter and Gregor's thing - even if they no longer had the ink. She didn't get what the big deal was. They looked human now, at least when Newter wanted to. Who the fuck cared about their past? Obviously it was shitty.
'Case 53s', what a joke. Acting like losing your memories was a bad thing. At least Gregor didn't look like a slug anymore.
"What do you think Brockton Bay is going to be like when we get back?" Elle asked from beside her.
"How the fuck should I know?" Endbringers attacked, cities died, at least they'd been out of town when it went down. Beat trying to run or survive.
"What about everyone that died?" The little girl continued trying to draw her in to a conversation.
"They're dead. It happens." She did admit that it would suck for the cape they were hunting. Faultline couldn't promise to cure whatever weird shit their power had done to them without Pixel or Bit around.
Impetus
Fred West reviewed the latest territory pushes. The Empire Eight-Eight was being surprisingly passive. Instead of trying to extend their reach after Leviathan's attack, they'd opted for fortifying what they currently held. In fact, they'd given up territory so they could better defend some questionable assets.
Outside groups were a bigger threat than they were at moment. Heck, even the new Merchants gang was a bigger threat and they could barely find one hand with the other. Impetus let his body still as he thought about possible scenarios. He was interrupted by his intercom buzzing. "Skitter is here to see you, Boss."
"Send her in." Fred pushed the button on the phone. He was slowly getting used to his cell's new headquarters. It was surprisingly well built, most other underground facilities in Brockton Bay had flooded. The hidden locations Coil had constructed were solid. They'd only suffered some minor water damage - nothing that couldn't be fixed in most cases. A few rooms needed more serious repairs, which was going to be hard to do given the need the rest of the city currently had.
The former Ward drummed his fingers while he waited for Skitter to make her way through the corridor to his current office. He wanted to keep a little bit of super-speed going - just in case. He was also bored with the delay. Hidden underground bases might work for dealing with turf wars, but they made poor replacements for regular offices in most other regards. It sure made having legitimate meetings difficult.
He once again thought about how wise Uppercrust had been in his cell's structure. Keep your hands clean and get on the good side of the law - that was the way to keep the Protectorate off your back. Sure, the cell had various rackets going, but always done by lower-level members. As long as their presence was a stabilizing force, and no one did anything stupid, it was a win-win situation.
Speaking of someone who might do something stupid, Skitter opened the door. The lanky teen didn't have a visible swarm with her, but that didn't mean she was defenseless. Impetus was prepared, but if this came to a fight - he'd already lost.
"Greetings." He gave her a small smile and a quick nod of his head. "Please have a seat."
"So you're the boss?" Her posture was off somehow. Too still. In a way, it reminded him of Pixel.
"That's right. I wanted to speak with you about some of your actions."
"Like what?" He could see her muscles tense under her costume.
"Like taking hostages at the bank."
"What?" Not the topic she was expecting. Good.
"Now, technically that job was at the request of the previous boss." He paused. "As such, I'm not going to issue any fines, but I do feel the need that we get on the same page."
"What?" Repeating herself. She must REALLY have been expecting a different topic. Probably worried that her 'undercover' mission was blown.
Impetus let out a deep sigh. Non-verbal gestures were better at conveying things sometimes. "Are you asking about the previous boss? Or about the hostage taking?"
Her jaw moved under her mask for a few seconds before she replied. "Both, I guess."
"Very well." He leaned forward and clasped his hands. "As you are aware, the Undersiders were put together by a backer. What you apparently don't know is that said backer was Coil." He smiled. "As a matter of fact, the job you did was what lead to his recent death." Let her think about that.
"I don't follow."
"It's simple. You know the situation surrounding the Siberian killing Coil, correct?"
She nodded. "She escorted a relative of the Mayor back home before murdering him."
"So the piece of the puzzle that you're missing is the timeline." Impetus leaned back. "Dinah Alcott was kidnapped the same exact time that the Undersiders were having a very public fight with the Wards."
"Oh." Her voice was emotionless. He didn't know what to make of that.
"So you can see the clear cause and effect that started with your bank robbery and ended with Coil's death." She nodded, but didn't speak. "I believe that is the perfect example of what we are not going to do from now on. This organization is a business. The Undersiders are contractors. Harming civilians, fighting with the heroes, property damage - these are all bad for business."
"I understand." He still couldn't get a read on her. Some side-effect of her power?
"Let me elaborate further." Impetus paused to think if he wanted to give her any personal anecdotes. He decided against it. No point in making her information gathering too easy. He wanted Skitter to stay around and willingly embrace his philosophy. Keeping her interested was better at this point that trying to form a personal connection. "When I say 'bad for business', I don't mean a purely monetary bottom line. I'm talking about soft power. We don't harm or threaten civilians, because it's both wrong and because it will turn public opinion against us. This isn't the Empire. We do not villainize a group in order to appeal to our in-group members. Our goal isn't no crime, because that's unrealistic. No, our goal is lesser crime."
"Lesser crime?"
"Lesser crime means that there are some crimes we do not engage in. We don't allow rape in our territory. We control the drugs and make sure that it's not poison. We don't take more from people than they can afford." What was the analogy that Uppercrust had given in his pitch? "If you take all the apples from the tree, then there won't be any for the birds. No birds means fewer predators, pollinators, scavengers, seed dispersers, seed predators, and ecosystem engineers. It also means no new apple trees will grow."
"So what? You're aiming for sustainable crime?"
Fred stopped to think about that. It was the advantage he had in conversations that he could think about his responses longer than his opponents. "In a way. It's not just sustaining the crime, but the neighborhood itself. Lung had a sustainable gang in that he made profit. However, what Brockton Bay doesn't have is a gang that's actively interested in making the city grow again."
Taylor, daughter of the head of hiring for the Dockworkers Association, nodded. "Can I ask how you're planning on doing that?"
Impetus smiled. He'd gotten her hooked. Having her as an information gatherer and an enforcer would go a long way towards stabilizing his cell's position in Brockton Bay.
Chantilly
Chantilly woke up, yawned, and then willed herself out of her cloth state. It was a sensation that she'd never get used to, and it always brought a smile to her face. It still took a little bit of concentration to keep from transforming while at school, but she was getting better.
It was hard to believe that it had only been only a few months ago when her life had changed so drastically. She had friends outside of the Wards now! She had an actual house with real parents too!
...Well, adopted parents, but they loved her and that was what mattered! Mark and John had wanted to adopt her when she was still just sapient cloth, so she knew they actually cared for her. She wasn't so sure about her school friends, but she got it. Capes could be scary. People feared what they didn't know. She had to try and not hold that against them.
She brushed her teeth and dressed before heading downstairs. She did have to admit that being cloth was more convenient when it came to a lot of things. Brushing her teeth and hair. Other... things in the bathroom... All sorts of odd sensations she didn't experience in her alternate form.
On the other hand, there was a lot to appreciate too! Eating was wonderful! So were baths! Just touching things in general was enjoyable. Oddly enough, sleeping in her cloth form was nicer. It happened automatically, but she didn't mind... much.
No sleep-overs for her. She was too old for them anyways, or so she was told.
Mark had set the table for her, but her plate was alone. "Aren't we going to eat together?"
Mark leaned down and kissed her forehead. "John had to go in early. I have to leave now too, but we couldn't let you miss breakfast!" He smiled fondly at her.
"More blue-screeners?" She poured syrup over her waffles.
Her adopted father let out a sigh. "New ones pop up every day around the globe. We don't know how many exactly, but we think it's hundreds. That means that New York has a lot of them."
"I know... It's just so annoying going through all the new protocols."
"Any more annoying then remembering the daily passwords?" Mark raised an eyebrow.
"Nooooo..." She dragged the word out. "But it's not like we stopped doing those either!"
"That's the way the world works, pumpkin." The blond haired man winked at her before heading up the stairs to change into his PRT uniform.
Chantilly ate her waffles and thought about how much had changed since Scion's Sacrifice. The blue-screeners were the biggest thing, but the world still mourned the greatest hero sacrificing himself to kill the Simurgh. She agreed with them, except on one key point.
The greatest hero in the world had been Pixel. He might not have sacrificed himself to kill an Endbringer, but he was the best hero in her book.
She hoped Bit was okay - wherever she was.
Accord
Accord finished writing the last steps for repairing Brockton Bay's aquifer. It wasn't a glamorous task, but it was important. No one knew just how much damage Leviathan had done before retreating, so his plan had to cover surveying, testing, possible traps, and and untold amount of erosion.
Plus, Cauldron was paying well, as always.
It was only one of multiple rebuilding initiatives that were currently ongoing. There was even serious talk about erecting a national, or even a world-wide monument. Accord rolled his eyes at the thought of that. Sure, one immortal killing machine had finally been destroyed, but it had taken the strongest parahuman on the planet to do it.
Despite the PRT's attempt at PR, it wasn't a feat that was likely to be duplicated any time soon. Scion wouldn't be killing any more Endbringers. In fact, it was quite possible that his loss was going to destabilize the world even more. No last-minute cavalry to help those stupid enough to stand up to the city killers.
Plus, China was undoubtedly reinitializing their nuclear stockpile at this very moment. If they tried to use one on Behemoth, Accord would have to spend a week strait in his suit. Otherwise he'd most likely lose control in a fit of rage at their (theoretical) stupidity.
The clock struck one precisely as his office door swung open. Citrine walked to the front of his desk and waited with her hands clasped in front of her.
Accord took a moment to admire her professionalism, and to briefly mourn the fact that it didn't fill him with the same sense of satisfaction while he wore his suit. "What's the status with handling Blasto?"
Citrine bowed her head. "Sir, I regret to tell you that your most recent plan had to be put on hold."
His mask's eye sockets narrowed in response to his own facial muscles. "Why is that?"
"As you hoped, I received a quest." His most skilled underling explained. "Two of the bonus objectives weren't compatible with the proposed steps you gave me."
Accord closed his eyes and let out a sigh. "That is unfortunate." And annoying. Thankfully, his suit was making dealing with Citrine's new status easier. No one had been able to discern any rhyme or reason for which parahumans would gain access to the blue screen. All they knew was that they were prompted into doing certain tasks in exchange for vague rewards. The promise of more power caused most capes to accept without thinking. "Give me the details, and I'll adjust the plan."
Citrine slid over a folder and then stepped back.
Accord was lucky in that Citrine had been 'chosen' before him. His Ambassadors weren't normal riffraff. None of them would fall for any tricks that blue-screen might have up their sleeves. Gradual conditioning to accept completing 'quests' for their rewards was the most likely scenario as to how the situation might deteriorate.
He had, of course, already made plans to counter that. It seemed like an inevitable conclusion that every parahuman would eventually be targeted, and he planned on being ready.
Burnscar
Mimi carefully moved the brush in a small sweeping motion to the side. There, another small, happy, tree. She dabbed some more paint onto her brush. Brown, green, and blue. Those were the colors she was using. No yellows, reds, or oranges. Nothing that might 'trigger' her.
The former member of the Slaughterhouse Nine carefully continued her latest landscape. She wasn't sure where she was, or what was going on in the world, and she didn't care. People had told her that there was a trial. They'd spoken at her, and she'd been escorted into a special cell with a TV and a video camera multiple times.
It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was her paintings.
It reminded her of when she'd burned tear drops down her cheeks with a cigarette. She'd wanted to feel something, anything. Pain, sadness, it didn't matter. Her world was gray. Dull. Lifeless. The only spark of emotion had come from the flames. Seeing the embers glow and grow. The fire lick and ignite. A living thing that she could control, shape, mold. Something that she could become a part of. A vibrant exuberance that she couldn't feel any other way.
Then she'd lose herself. It was the same every time. The light in the dull, gray world would illuminate and elevate her. Each second another joy. The fulfillment came with an increased hunger - a need for more life, more joy, more FIRE!
They'd tried to help her, she remembered that. It was back when she'd met Elle. There was a brief time between the dull monotony and the raging inferno that she felt bad for what she'd done. She remembered feeling that way, but not the feeling itself.
That was why Burnscar painted, to try and recapture a piece of herself. It was a faint hope, but it drove her. She finished the final tree and took a step back. There. Was that enough? Would it count?
*Art Therapy I complete! 5/5 paintings, +5 CP.
The blue box of victory hung in front of her. 5 CP. 5 points that she could use to change herself. The blue box shifted to display her tabs. She selected the 'debuffs' page, and looked at her target. It didn't increase. It remained as just as gray as when the blue box had shown up before.
However... the top option was now white. 'Emotional Capacity'. She assigned one of her points to it. The two boxes below turned white. 'Positive Emotions' got the next point. The boxes below it didn't light up. The only two options that would accept more points were 'Emotional Capacity' and 'Negative Emotions'.
Mimi didn't care. She wanted to feel anything! She put a point into 'Negative Emotions'. With the two branches balanced, the next tier of squares were enabled. Mimi waited no time in putting a point in 'Happiness'. The positive side faded. She had one point left, which went into 'Sadness' on the other side to balance the tree.
She was out of CP, but she felt slightly better. A whisper of her former self.
Mimi put the finished painting to the side, and put a blank canvas on the easel. If there was an 'Art Therapy I', then there must be an 'Art Therapy II'. She'd unlock the quest, earn more CP, and eventually disable all the debuffs the blue screen told her she had.
