CHAPTER THREE
A/N: Due to some very helpful feedback, the details of the Siberians transformation have been adjusted. Chapter one has been significantly reworked, and chapter two has a few details change to match. The new versions have been uploaded.
Disjoint arrived at the Boardwalk a few minutes before the agreed-upon meeting time. The area was teeming with activity, with bustling shops lining the sides of the streets. Steam poured out of the roofs of cafes and restaurants, billowing into clouds of vapor in the crisp winter air. The sun was out, beams of light scattering through the air to reflect off bright storefronts and illuminate block after block. Even the alleyways nestled between buildings were drawn out of the shadows, appearing almost cozy.
She moved to a bench facing the ocean, letting her legs stretch out before her. The thick fabric of her costume bunched along her back as she slid down a few inches, settling further into the contour of the seat. The crowd was thinner here, and they parted around her in a bubble, sensibly keeping distant from the unfamiliar cape. Luckily it seemed the pale color of her outfit and her casual posture reassured most of them that she wasn't going to be causing any trouble. Still, she nervously wondered whether or not she'd have to deal with inquisitive passersby before the Protectorate arrived.
As if summoned by her thoughts, the background noise seemed to swell at the edge of the block and she caught a flash of blue in between pedestrians reaching for their phones. Through the gaps in the crowd a young woman in a skintight white and grey bodysuit emerged, highlighted in electric blue lines that had caught her eye.
The newcomer approached calmly, sunlight glinting off her visor. A few inches shorter than Disjoint herself, the hero seemed undaunted as Disjoint hurriedly stood, wearing a small smile and introducing herself.
"Good afternoon! I'm Battery, you must be Disjoint?" She trailed off at the end, turning it into a question.
"Yes, uh, I am. It's a pleasure to meet you." The words felt a little stiff, but Battery only smiled reassuringly.
"Likewise." She seemed to ponder for a moment, looking at the crowds mingling nearby. "It's a bit crowded here, do you want to walk while we talk?"
Disjoint nodded. "Please, if you don't mind."
Battery gestured away from the beachfront and the two of them fell into step, leaving behind the dense thoroughfare and moving further into the shopping district. As they began moving, Battery was quick to strike up conversation again.
"First of all, I'd like to thank you for coming forward to register as a hero with the PRT. I know the paperwork is never fun, but there are already enough capes running around out there. Especially around here. The last thing we need is an accident with an unidentified cape who was just trying to help." She paused for a moment as the storefront doors in front of them opened, a stream of people surging out.
"I'm assuming this is your first time going on patrol?" Battery spoke again as the doors finally swung shut, leaving Disjoint momentarily confused before she realized what the hero seemed to be hinting at.
"Yes, I'm a new hero. Brand new, I guess," she responded carefully. It was technically true, after all.
"Honestly, that's a relief." Battery sighed. "Don't get me wrong, rogues and vigilantes are far better than villains, but most of them run into trouble sooner or later. Around here the gangs are too large. Solo work is fine against common criminals, but when the capes come out you need backup. Best to get affiliated quickly. This way you can at least call for backup."
The concern was obvious in her tone, and Disjoint immediately felt uncomfortable for assuming the young woman had been trying to dig into her past. Still, better safe than sorry. She knew the Protectorate hero had probably been told to learn as much as she could, as nice as she was.
"It sounds like the gangs are quite the problem," she stated neutrally, as the Protectorate hero let out an uncharacteristic laugh.
"Now I know you aren't from around here. 'Quite the problem.' Yeah, that's one way to put it." Her lips turned down, and her tone grew heated. "They're everywhere, and any time we finally manage to catch one of their capes they inevitably get broken out. It's infuriating."
Battery cut herself off, turning to Disjoint. "I'm sorry, I'm going off-track. I'm supposed to be guiding you through your first patrol, and instead you get to listen to me vent. Don't worry too much about the gangs; we've dealt with them before, and we'll do it again."
"I don't mind; it's a nice change of pace. I'm happy to actually talk to a member of the Protectorate, your brochures only cover so much." Disjoint replied, rifling through her pocket to display one of the pamphlets that she had picked up in the PRT office, to the amusement of the hero beside her. The crumpled piece of paper proved more useful in death, banishing the last bit of solemn air.
The conversation relaxed for a while after that, the two of them moving further into the city. Here and there Battery would chime in with advice or point out notable landmarks, but for the most part they simply walked, commenting on the sights before them. It was almost relaxing, though she noticed that Battery's attention never drifted far, always keeping an eye on the streets around the pair. No doubt habits born from years in the city, it did show the difference between the two of them. Disjoint was wary of many things, but physical threats were very far down on the list. The moments after her creation had assured her of such, even if she hadn't felt the thread of certainty in her core.
It was hard to reconcile the memories she had gained with the impressions that refused to leave. They felt disconnected, the fresh memories chronologically behind the old impressions. Still, she could ruminate later, as Battery had started talking again.
"I have to say, your costume is pretty good for someone just starting out. It's plain, but looks well-made. Did you do that yourself?"
Ah, there was another question about her background, as polite as it was. She could hardly tell the truth, that it was taken from one of the Nine's stashes. The tinker of the group had been obsessive about hiding capsules of gear like a squirrel burying acorns, littered across the United States. Luckily he had never cared about branding, as evidenced by her simple white cloak and mask. The outfit wasn't exactly his normal style, but even he needed to appear inconspicuous on occasion.
"Mmm, I had some help from someone I knew," she replied noncommittally. She didn't want to lie to the hero, but couldn't see much of an alternative. Besides, making up blatant lies would get her caught out eventually, so instead she kept it vague.
"It's a lot better than mine was starting out," Battery continued. "Back then I only had a black bodysuit and a domino mask. I was actually kind of broke at the time. I was so eager to go out that I didn't wait and save up for a better one."
"Sounds like you had quite the motivation to be a hero?" Disjoint inquired lightly. Perhaps it was a little bit presumptuous, but it wasn't like the Protectorate hadn't been asking tricky questions. Turnabout was fair play, and all that. Battery didn't seem offended at the question though, if anything she grew even more animated.
"Oh it's no secret, my first appearance is all public record. I was trying to stop a villainous cape on a spree of prison breaks. Every time the local heroes managed to make an arrest, the villains got sprung out again. After witnessing it so many times, I couldn't stand seeing them evade justice," Battery finished firmly.
Just like that the woman had plunged a metaphorical knife into Disjoint's gut. Here she was, standing right in front of an actual hero, listening as the woman dissected her without even knowing. How could she even argue with that, when everything the hero said was the truth? Battery stood there condemning those who would escape their due, while she did exactly that not a half-dozen feet away. The hero, still oblivious to her inner turmoil, seemed to tower over Disjoint despite the difference in their actual statures.
Still, something in her refused to cede without argument. She turned to fully face the Protectorate member and Battery came to a stop as well, sensing the change pass over Disjoint's form. "What if the villains wanted to reform and become heroes?" she asked as steadily as possible, trying her best to project a casual air and not entirely succeeding. In return Battery seemed to still in surprise, ceasing all movement as the two stared at each other like matching statues.
"Do you—" Battery started before cutting herself off. "You certainly aren't afraid to go for the hard questions, are you?" Even as she spoke her stance softened, and she exhaled, sounding suddenly tired. "It's a complicated topic. I, well I don't like it, but I can accept it. It's not common knowledge, but every once in a while a villain will go for a plea deal, re-brand in exchange for avoiding sitting in a cell somewhere. We can certainly use the extra bodies, if nothing else."
Battery's eyes were inscrutable behind her visor, but the hero seemed to be lost in thought. Thankfully it seemed more introspective than suspicious, though that raised all kinds of other questions. Overall Disjoint was just relieved the hero didn't seem to find the question too unusual.
After a moment Battery spoke again, "Don't concern yourself too much with it. As nice as the idea of talking down a villain is, most of the encounters around here are going to start violently and only get worse from there. I'm not saying you shouldn't try to negotiate first, but be prepared."
"Now, have any other great philosophical questions you need answered?" Battery asked amusedly. When Disjoint didn't move, she groaned in exasperation. "That was supposed to be a joke..." Nevertheless she continued, "No, out with it. Now that I know it's just going to be awkward if you don't say it."
She debated begging off, waving away the hero's questioning. However, she hadn't had a chance to really talk to someone in well, ever. For the first time she could actually voice the thoughts bouncing around in her head, with a hero no less. Despite the risk of revealing too much, she couldn't help but speak out.
"What about people who didn't have a choice? Or the ones who didn't know any better?"
They had long since left the Boardwalk behind, and she gestured to one of the run-down buildings that decorated the street, windows either smashed out or boarded over with plywood. Bits of debris were scattered in front of the house, and chunks of the masonry were obviously missing. Even the paint was faded and weathered, worn down by decades of exposure to the elements.
"Out here, tucked away with the gangs, the poor, the homeless. Surrounded every day by villains, until that's all they see. Until that's all they know to do, and they join them." She had started out as calmly as possible, but even holding back she had felt her tone shift near the end. Before she had finished speaking Battery was opening her mouth to respond.
"That's just an excuse. Anyone who says otherwise is lying to themselves," the woman replied, shaking her head. "Every action has its consequences. Maybe there are extenuating circumstances, maybe they never meant to go that far. It doesn't matter. If they really want to be better, the first step is owning what they did, fully and completely. Even if it's just to themselves."
Again the hero's words had dropped with the certainty of a guillotine blade slamming home. There was burning iron in her voice, condemnation radiating outwards like a visceral force. Even though she wasn't the target Disjoint couldn't help but feel struck, the next round of justifications dying on her lips. Battery seemed to realize how thoroughly she shattered the conversation and began walking again, and Disjoint followed a moment later.
The next few minutes passed quietly, the atmosphere not quite uncomfortable but certainly heavier than before. Eventually Battery slipped back into the familiar role of acting as a glorified tour guide, and she accepted it without comment. The halfway point of the patrol passed quietly, and they turned around, working their way down towards the center of the city. Occasionally the Protectorate hero would pause for a moment to listen to her earpiece, but there didn't seem to be anything happening at the moment.
The peace lasted for another twenty-odd minutes until it was dashed to pieces, a piercing groan echoing off the buildings, followed by a deep rumble and cacophony of crashing. Off to their right and half-dozen blocks behind them, and an enormous cloud of dust rose upwards. It hung there malevolently, particles drifting outwards through the air.
Battery immediately began speaking to the Protectorate headquarters, responding with a rapid-fire list of observations and a rough estimate of location. Seconds later she finished and looked at Disjoint, opening her mouth to speak. No doubt to placate her, offer her an option not to jump right in on her first patrol, but she interrupted the woman before she could speak.
"Let's go." Disjoint said, and they were off.
She watched as Battery held herself still for a handful of seconds, before tearing forward with eye-blurring speed. It was a peculiar form of travel, alternating between such extremes, but nevertheless effective. In return she pushed off the ground, launching herself forward in a long, flowing gait and matching the woman's speed. It was a technique that anyone with abundant strength and durability could use, one of the first she had mastered. Her reflexes were good enough, though evidently nowhere near Battery's as the hero seemed to flow around obstacles even at full speed.
She arrived at the same time as the Protectorate member, moving forward and placing herself a step ahead. If there was an ambush it would be far safer to spring it on herself than her new companion. However, the scene was oddly quiet for the amount of damage on display. They had arrived only a minute or two after the noise thundered past, but there was a distinct lack of activity. In front of the two lay a towering pile of rubble, chunks of concrete a half-dozen feet on a side piled haphazardly. Bits of rebar and wood jutted out of the mountain at crazy angles, snapped and splintered ends pointed to the sky.
The rest of the street was just as empty, but more intact. There weren't any passersby to be seen, though it was impossible to tell if they had wisely chosen to flee or had never been there to begin with. The area didn't look like it saw much use though, buildings dark all the way to the corner.
In front of the central pile lay a spray of masonry dozens of feet long, nearly crossing the street. Something, or someone, had presumably torn through the base of the building in an impressive display of strength. From there gravity had run its course, sending the rest of the structure crumbling inwards. Along with the spray were deep gouges carved into the pavement, bits of silver shining at the bottom.
Battery began to circle around the heap and Disjoint didn't hesitate, striding quickly towards the pieces nearest the edge. The rest of the block looked abandoned, and with any luck this building would be too, but she needed to be sure. Starting at the outermost layer she began tossing slabs to the side, steadily forming a pile at the corner of the dust-covered lot. As quickly as she worked she still had the presence of mind to shatter the larger pieces into chunks before tossing them behind her. She refused to let someone die because she handicapped herself, but the additional motion didn't affect the speed at which the pile was shrinking.
Soon afterwards Battery joined her, shifting the rubble a piece or two at a time during her intermediate bursts of speed. The two of them worked in silence, the rhythmic thumping of moving concrete only broken by distant sirens partly through the excavation. However, the sirens were still a ways off when a new sound disturbed the monotony. A dry, wracking cough drifted out from beneath the side of the pile, not far from the area they had been digging.
Disjoint felt fire flood her veins as she heard the noise, dashing over to the nearest unoccupied patch of ground and tearing frantically down through the pile of debris blocking the way. There was someone under there, someone still alive. Any thoughts of care fled as power flowed into her gloves, hand plunging to the wrist into the concrete and ripping outwards, tossing pieces aside with contemptuous ease. Dust and chips of stone billowed outward, and she didn't realize Battery was trying to get her attention until she had already brushed past the hero's arms twice.
The woman was practically yelling over the sudden avalanche of rubble. "Wait! Wait. You need to slow down, we don't want to shift it onto whoever is down there."
She froze, horrified. The Protectorate hero was right, she had been working with abandon, heedless of the shifting and groaning all around her. She hadn't been wrong to go to the rescue, but she needed to do it the right way. Sloppiness wasn't a luxury she could afford. Mentally she cursed her carelessness.
The hero seemed to pick up on her thoughts, and spoke reassuringly. "You had the right idea, you're just new to all this. Now, let's do it properly. Start from the top and work down, avoid the pieces that are partially buried. When we get to those I'll pull, and you brace the area above. Got it?" At her nod the woman moved to her side, reaching out towards the slab directly in front her.
Chunk after chunk was safely extracted by the two of them before they paused. The wheezing breath was close, easily audible now. Battery took the opportunity to call out, but only the dry breathing answered. The hero grimaced in concern before reaching back down.
Before them lay what was likely the final piece, an unassuming piece of concrete a few feet across. It wasn't even close to the largest Disjoint had moved so far, and yet knowing what lay behind it lent it a weight that was more than physical. It lay on its side, angled against the larger pile with the top propping up yet more stone. She took up position by the end, reaching below the overhanging area. With a final nod to Battery, the hero wedged her fingers near the edge, then stilled.
With a huff the woman exploded into motion, pulling the rubble away as smoothly as she could during her brief burst of strength. As soon as it began to move Disjoint slipped under the natural archway, spreading her arms as far as possible and planting herself absolutely unmoving above the prone figure before her. With a groan the wall behind her collapsed, rebar screaming in tortured fury as it crashed into her and found itself utterly inadequate. Here she stood, and it would go no further.
The dust settled as she straightened upright, a few fist-sized chunks rolling off her back and onto the ground behind her. Battery was immediately kneeling before her, inspecting the figure, the man on the ground in front of her. Already he was coughing, eyes fluttering back to wakefulness. A large gash on the top of his head bled heavily through long matted hair, but didn't appear life-threatening. Still, Battery efficiently tore a strip of cloth from the patchwork jumble he was wearing, bandaging it expertly around his head.
As the man stirred she took a few steps back, but took a closer look at him. At a glance he was clearly homeless, or at least living in abject poverty. His long hair and patchy beard framed a vaguely Asian face, obscured by layers of wrinkles. Further down, the long patchwork she had mistaken for a coat was actually a blanket wrapped around his body, covering a stained and threadbare shirt. The rest of his outfit was much the same.
He was barely awake before Battery was speaking, slowly but with an underlying sense of urgency.
"Sir, I know you're disoriented but I need to know, were you alone in that building? Was there anyone else with you?" Disjoint's eyes widened but the man was already shaking his head side to side.
"Please, try to keep your head still. The ambulance is on the way, I need you to lie here until they arrive, okay? I'll be right here with you." Even as Battery continued to talk to the man Disjoint could see the tension seep out of her form. As soon as she finished stabilizing him the hero stood, making her way over to where Disjoint stood.
"So," she asked with a tired smile. "How does it feel to be a hero?"