CHAPTER FOUR
The emergency response arrived a few minutes later; a loud, echoing siren heralded their presence as the fire and rescue truck rumbled around the corner. Just behind it was an ambulance, its higher wail cutting off abruptly as it rolled to a stop. As the rescue crew began blocking off the road the paramedics loaded the prone civilian onto a stretcher with practiced movements. Battery moved to direct the rescue crew and Disjoint followed, curious.
In the middle of the street Battery was pointing out the deep gouges in the road, gesturing from the main pile of rubble outwards along the tracks. In response the firemen stood clear of the area, moving around it as they shuttled back and forth. Shortly afterwards a van rounded the corner, bearing the PRT logo. Upon reaching its destination the doors swung outwards, disgorging a pair of PRT officers and what appeared to be a technician bearing an elaborate camera and tripod. The group began circling the scene, documenting the evidence and collecting bits of the metallic substance she had noticed in the cracks earlier.
The various crews fell into a rhythm quickly, and Disjoint and Battery were relegated to the sidelines. Soon afterwards the PRT officers nodded at Battery, who motioned to Disjoint as she began walking away from the scene.
"Let's keep moving. They don't need us anymore, so we can finish up," the hero spoke over her shoulder. "It's a good idea to stick around until the police or PRT arrive, make sure everything is safe. Afterwards, though, it's back to work." Disjoint responded affirmatively and the two departed, quickly leaving the scene behind them.
The remainder of the patrol passed uneventfully, streets washing by in a uniform haze as the pair completed the large circle back towards the Boardwalk. Finally, as the city blocks began to visibly brighten up, Battery came to a stop.
"Well, that's all for today. A little more active than I would have hoped for your first patrol, but you did well. Did you get a phone from the PRT office when you signed on?" the Protectorate hero inquired.
Disjoint nodded, fishing it out of an inside pocket and glancing down at the rugged front. It wasn't anything fancy, but it did look quite durable.
"Excellent. Here, when you get a chance add my number," the woman continued as she held out a small business card. It was styled in the same white and grey as her suit, with the letters picked out in electric blue. They shimmered faintly as Disjoint took the card, rocking it back and forth and watching the letters catch the light.
"Oh yeah, the PR guys loved that one," Battery added, snorting in amusement at the display. "Quite recognizable.
"But seriously. You did well out there, especially for a new hero. I'm sure the PRT will reach out to you again for another patrol, but if you have any more questions or just want to talk, you've got my number. Don't hesitate to call."
Disjoint nodded again, a bright feeling in her chest. The woman was right, they had done well. Even without capturing any villains or getting into a fight, they had made a difference. It was surprisingly reassuring, such a small act. Without realizing it, she had been weighed down by little worms of doubt, whispering that she wouldn't be able to do anything. She had only noticed now that they were gone, and the sky felt brighter because of it. She had shown that she could do good. It was a start.
Battery departed soon after, bidding her final goodbyes as she moved off towards the Protectorate headquarters floating out in the middle of the bay. Disjoint began walking too, heading back towards her apartment. Half an hour later, she was just rounding the corner when the sight of her door sparked her memory, and she huffed in annoyance. She had never gotten a chance to purchase a laptop or cell phone, the entire reason she had left the apartment in the first place.
She smiled wryly in amusement. The call from the PRT had completely derailed her plans for the day, though not in a bad way.
Still, it was only late afternoon. Long beams of sunlight were highlighting the city in a deep orange glow, but there was plenty of time left before it started getting truly dark and stores began closing their doors. If she remembered correctly from her stroll this morning there was a department store that wasn't even that far from her.
Well, she might as well start walking. Even if her memory was wrong, she was in a good mood. The view was pleasant as well, shadows beginning to grow at the bases of houses and trees but remaining out-shined by the stubborn sun. There was a surprising amount of wildlife out, braving the cold to chatter and chirp loudly at one another. In front of her a pair of squirrels darted left and right, dancing across bare branches high in the trees.
It was peaceful, in a way that the train yard had failed to capture. Her previous nighttime expedition had been desolate, the blackness and silence giving off an uncaring, bleak feel. She had found calm in the empty depths, but not peace. Now, in this idyllic afternoon, she embraced a moment of tranquility. The warmth in her chest spread and her figure relaxed as she strode down the street.
The cozy feeling lasted throughout the entire trip, even the brief foray into the store failing to disperse it. She returned to her new home with a backpack slung over one shoulder, a spur-of-the-moment purchase to carry her recently-acquired belongings. As she unlocked her front door she took one last contemplative look back at the lengthening shadows before heading into the apartment.
Sitting down she opened her laptop and debated what to do first. The decision lay between the short- and long-term, whether to focus on the here and now or work towards the future. Towards discovering who she really was. The two choices were appealing for different reasons, and she would get to both in time, but she needed to start somewhere.
Thinking about the long-term brought up another concern, or a facet of an old one. She had noticed it immediately on the day of her transformation, when her memories had felt incomplete. Specifically, they grew worse and worse the closer they got to the end. She remembered Manton being there, but the rest was a smear of lights and colors. It was impossible to know at the moment, but she had a premonition that it was significant. Nevertheless, she had a sinking feeling as to what she would find. The memories that felt out of place, the missing pieces, the distorted final moments. None of the evidence pointed to a happy ending.
Perhaps most damning were the dates that she remembered clearly. As 'new' as the memories felt, the most recent ones before her awakening were a decade old. From there onward her vague impressions filled the gaps, bits and pieces of voices talking, with Manton featured most prominently. Throughout it all was the sensation of time passing inexorably by.
It was a small mercy, in a sense. For all that she wished to be rid of the terrible recollections, waking up with a decade missing would have been an incredible blow.
That somber line of thought settled the decision of what she would research first. She would start with the local cape scene, and if anything jogged her vague memories it would be an unexpected bonus.
The heroes were the easiest to learn about, each with an official description provided by the PRT. Furthermore, the various costumes and powers had been fanatically documented by legions of unofficial supporters, filling in many of the details from the intentionally-sparse government publication.
It was a careful reminder for Disjoint herself. Once she started taking action in the public eye there would be no shortage of people keeping track of her actions, or more dangerously, the powers that she demonstrated. She didn't intend to make a public debut, but the first time she openly acted would set the tone for expectations that came later. Best to make sure everything was exactly in line when that day came.
Along with the long list of appearances by Protectorate heroes was an accompanying list for the Wards. It too was significantly long, to the point where it concerned her. All of the official information portrayed the Wards as a much less involved group that the data suggested. The fact that they had been recorded in so many fights with the local villains painted the picture of an organization that was desperately treading water, doing whatever it could to stay afloat. She didn't know if it was a problem with the area in particular, or just an unpleasant fact of life, but it was depressing to see.
She consoled herself with the thought that every fight she responded to was one less the rest of the heroes would have to face. Perhaps it was a bit presumptuous, but if she could ease their burden even slightly, especially the Wards, she would be glad to do it.
As she finished with the Protectorate heroes she continued, looking at the array of forces in the area. There were an enormous number of other parahumans in the city, especially considering its size. There was the unaffiliated hero group New Wave, two large gangs, and a mercenary group that made their home in the confines of Brockton Bay. The last one in particular caught her attention as she idly browsed down the list.
The most notable detail about the group was the presence of multiple Case 53s. The fact that there were several of them on a single team was notable in and of itself — as far as she knew they were exceptionally rare. More importantly, they were infamous for being amnesiac. Her own memory wasn't missing per se, but the link was there. It was tempting to reach out, the potential to learn more beckoning her eagerly.
She stopped scrolling as she trailed off in thought. Faultline's Crew was an interesting group to consider, to wonder what might have been. If she had awoken without any memories at all, as a blank slate like the Case 53s, would she have joined them? The possibility seemed large. As she was now she couldn't accept anything other than becoming a hero, but the freedom of the mercenary group was an attractive proposition. It was no more than an idle fantasy, but the life she pictured could have been a pleasant one, in a different way. Shaking her head, she refocused on the screen, eyes mechanically traveling over the same paragraph.
As she stared at the page describing the characteristics of Case 53s, she felt a twinge reading the description again. For a moment there was an echo, a voice speaking the same words that sat before her on the page. It was a man's voice. Not just any man, Manton's voice. It played in her head, filled with emotion. He was distraught, yet also nervous, paranoid. He was warning her about... something related to Case 53s. Warning her about... transforming?
The last bit of fog cleared from her memory of his voice, and it was like the final gear had slid into place on a vast machine. She swore she could almost hear the noise as a dozen fragments fell into place, crashing together as her mind spun, churning. The voice, Manton, the Case 53s. He had been warning her of turning into an 'inhuman' cape. It was a potential side-effect of being granted powers. Powers not gained naturally, but gifted by... something. The words had been accompanied by an object, a vacant hole in her recollection.
The new information flowing back up to the surface of her mind only served to highlight the areas that remained missing. Still, it was an enormous leap, and a confirmation of what she had suspected from the beginning. Her existence was no accident. Now more than ever she was committed to meeting the local Case 53s. One way or another she would dredge up the remainder of that memory, and they were the best place to start.
Addendum Battery
She sat at her office, papers spread out in front of her. The incident report was almost complete, dense lines of text blurring together as she squinted intimidatingly at it. It remained unimpressed, promising further suffering as she idly flicked through the remaining blank pages. The writing felt like drudgery, but it was necessary. Headquarters wanted to know whenever the heroes encountered something atypical on patrol, and a brand-new pile of rubble certainly qualified. Currently Hookwolf was the primary suspect, judging from the marks left around the collapsed structure. Once the techs finished analyzing the scene and confirmed it, the villain would earn another half-dozen entries on the top of the pile that represented his crimes so far. Destruction of property was the least of his concerns should he ever get caught, but it paid to have everything in order.
The other order of business for the evening was meandering down the hallway, if the grating whistling was anything to go by. Ethan had been eager to hear about her patrol with the 'rookie,' and for once the interruption might actually be welcome. Anything to get away from all this writing.
With a sigh she got up from the desk and swung the door out into the hallway. Sure enough he stood in the middle of the hallway, studying the wall with mock-intensity. A moment later his gaze slid towards the open door and he performed an exaggerated double-take, looking back with eyes comically wide. In response she only stared harder, a single eyebrow raised in exasperation.
"Alright, get in here you big idiot," she finally broke, turning back towards the room to hide a smile. Assault strolled into the room behind her, falling into the chair at the other end of her desk as she retook her seat.
"So, how did it go? We finally going to catch a break with the new hero, Disjoint was it?" he asked as soon as she sat down. "Oh come on," he continued at her gesture towards the separate stack of paper in the corner. "Don't make me read that, it's torture. Give me the summary."
Well, she couldn't blame him for that one. "It went well, actually. Very well. Disjoint handled herself quite capably, all things considered. She was clearly new to the scene, but she seemed to have the basics well in hand," she replied.
"What's she like? Please don't tell me we've got another Armsmaster on our hands. I can barely deal with one of him."
Battery shook her head, eyes gazing off into the distance. "No, not at all. She mostly came across as nervous to tell the truth, but I suspect that was just inexperience talking. She seemed eager, mostly. Even that's hard to say. She's got the full costume, hood and all. Not a scrap of skin visible."
"Hm. Fan of Eidolon, maybe?" Ethan suggested, and she shrugged.
"Actually she reminded me of you a bit," Battery said, head inclining slightly at Assault's knowing look. "I don't suppose you've had any... former acquaintances reach out recently?"
His brow furrowed as a moment of solemnity stole over his face. "No, I haven't heard anything. And besides, they would know to stay away from the area." The serious mood was gone in an instant as she felt the smugness radiate off of him. "Besides, I'm a changed man now. Or so a certain someone keeps telling me."
"Uh huh. I'll believe it when I see it," she replied, but there wasn't any heat in it. "Well, I could be mistaken. She was pretty interested in villains though, even if she tried to hide it. Maybe she grew up around one? Wouldn't be the first hero to break away from the 'family business,' so to speak."
"All the better to her, if that is the case," Assault finished the thought for her.
"Well, besides that, what are we looking at powers-wise? With the Lung and Purity out there, aren't we overdue a good turn?" At Battery's glare he held up his hands placatingly. "I know, I know. Respect the person, not the powers. But we really could use a lucky break."
She nodded in concession. It was the truth, after all. The Protectorate simply didn't have the advantage in raw strength in Brockton Bay. They made up for it with the wider resources of the government and superior training, but it still stung.
"She's strong. Very strong. The report goes into more detail, but when we got to the scene she was moving concrete slabs with ease. It's definitely more than enhanced biology. Some kind of dedicated power, for sure." Battery rubbed her wrist absentmindedly. "Not just any old power, though. When she was excavating the victim from under the rubble, she panicked and was going too fast at first. Looked like she might bring the whole thing down."
Assault nodded in sympathy. It wasn't uncommon for new heroes, lacking in training, to try to help and only make a situation worse. Especially those with enhanced strength.
"When I noticed what was going on I ran over, tried to stop her," Battery continued, and Ethan leaned forwards, curious. He of all people knew exactly how strong she was. Once she got going, even he hadn't been able to match her blow for blow.
"Nothing. She literally didn't even notice." Battery shivered. The experience had been humbling. It reminded her of the first time her powered form had run out, the abrupt lurch as she went from superhuman back to... normal. "In the end I had to yell her name a couple of times before she realized what was going on and stopped."
"Well, damn. Wish granted, I suppose. Hope it turns out to be for the best," Assault finished.
The new hero showed promise, that was for sure. She would finish her reports to inform the rest of the Protectorate about Disjoint, and she wished that things would go smoothly for the newest addition to Brockton Bay's cape scene. The city was unforgiving, and hopefully Disjoint would stay safe despite its cold embrace.