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Neolithic Knuckledraggers: Acrimonious, Tempist, Here_I_Am!

Bronze Barbarian: L. Baccus

Iron Intellectuals: Anna Quinn, CyberCrisis, Dragon Guy, Khalifa Khalid, MouthyStorm, Nick Paris, SourLeeberry, WanderingDaemon

Machine Menace: Amanda E.

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Seraphim

Earth Bet Sidestory #4

Indefinite Detention

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The first sign of trouble that the people on a certain Greyhound bus had was the half-dozen cop cars that screamed past them, headed the way that the bus had come, at a speed which boggled the mind. Looking more like white and black blurs than anything blatantly recognizable as a motor vehicle, they vanished as rapidly as they had appeared.

That had been somewhat concerning, but they were going the other way, and while six cop cars was no small force, it was still just cops. Six cars was appropriate for plenty of perfectly mundane, if still highly unfortunate, situations. Hell, not even all of those situations were inherently criminal! A bad enough fire or accident would certainly justify that kind of turn out, and the rate of speed that they were travelling with to boot!

This was the boonies. Beautiful suburbia and countryside as far as the eye could see, just magnificent Midwest vistas from horizon to horizon. The kind of Midwest vistas that people paid all kinds of money to come and visit, so that they could get away from the smelly, oppressive, thickly packed and suffocating existence that was living in a big city.

Then the State Troopers went by, four of them, followed by a Bearcat. That…was a rather more concerning thing to see. Law Enforcement didn't break out the armored cars for benign activity or minor crime, and even in the colossal shithole that was Earth Bet seeing one deployed was still pretty damn noteworthy.

When a dozen PRT vehicles went past and another two flagged the bus down, concern was edging towards outright fear. Everyone was quickly shuffled off, including the driver, and onto an armored PRT bus. It looked like something out of a movie, long and broad, like a moving steel wall, but that wasn't the strangest part. The inside looked nothing like a regular bus, despite having the same seats and central aisle that one might expect. Instead, the seats were spaced out in staggered rows, with what looked like sprinkler systems built into the roof. Not to mention the fact that the seats were self-buckling, with straps that crossed the torso in an x shape and seemed entirely lacking release mechanisms.

It was only after everyone was bordered and secured, the bus rumbling into motion towards Chicago, that one of the (several) PRT members aboard the vehicle finally deigned to answer the questions that were, and had been, getting hurled their direction since the entire even had begun.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this my name is Special Agent Reed, and this is my partner Special Agent Henderson. We are members of the Parahuman Response Teams' Special Investigations and Intervention Unit." The broad shoulder Caucasian said in what sure as hell sounded like an Alabaman accent, nodding to his slenderly-build African-American companion. Both of them had hard expressions, not intended in the least to put the people before them at ease. "Simply put, ladies and gentlemen, the Slaughterhouse Nine have been spotted in South Beloit. The city from which your bus departed."

There was a moment of shocked silence, before panic ensued. And why wouldn't they panic? Being in the same country as the Slaughterhouse Nine was terrifying enough, never mind knowing that you had been in the same city as the most infamous monsters in the world (short of the Endbringers themselves)! And they couldn't even assume that they had gotten away safely, not with the likes of Bonesaw running around! Who knew what insane, Biotinker nightmare-concoctions that they had been exposed to?!

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please remain calm!" Henderson called over the din, the babble of voices and screams and demands, but it didn't do him much good. A Special Agent he might be, but public relations and breaking news gently were obviously not amongst his no-doubt-extensive list of talents and skills. "Ladies and Gentlemen, please!"

As the two members of the PRT SIIU tried to return some semblance of order to the chaos that they had caused, the small cluster of young adults that called Earth Aleph home exchanged confused glances. There were a lot of things about this nightmare-world that they had learned about since their arrival, the Endbringers first and foremost given their personal connection to the Simurgh, but beyond that they really hadn't had the chance to learn more. Their name alone made it painfully obvious that they were Bad News, of course, and the law enforcement turnout that had passed the bus helped drive that point home, but how bad was Bad, exactly?

Marissa mentally made a note to try and learn more about them once they were able to make their way to Chicago. She wasn't stupid enough to voice any of her questions out loud, not here and not now. Not only would it make it clear that she and her friends weren't locals, but ignorance might come across as malicious mockery under circumstances like this. Not the best choice by any stretch of the imagination, and a quick look around showed that her friends (even Cody) were smart enough to recognize that as well. Sighing a near-silent sigh of relief, she refocused on the front of the bus as the Reed and Henderson finally managed to restore something that even vaguely resembled order.

"We will be transporting you directly to a safe zone established by PRT Department 4, also known as PRT Midwest Division, based out of Chicago. Director Heathrow has arranged everything you might need while we wait to see if you're cleared of any Nine influence or membership." Reed explained evenly, watching his charges carefully for any sign of treachery. Marissa had to wonder why he was being so blunt, if the threat was so great and there was a possibility of anyone on the bus being involved, but the thought was pushed aside as he continued. "All of you will remain there until such time that you are deemed ready for release back into the general population. None of you are under arrest or accused of any crimes, only indefinitely detained pending investigation results."

If that was meant to reassure anyone, it failed to a degree that bordered on hilarity. As it turned out, most people (especially Americans, and especially Americans from certain parts of the country) really didn't appreciate being told that their freedom was forfeit for an indeterminate amount of time when they hadn't even committed an actual crime yet. Quite a few of them immediately started howling about their rights, but that was fruitless. As the Agents quickly and coldly explained, under the laws in regards to certain Parahuman threats, it was perfectly legal and had plenty of precedent to back it up. So long as they were all treated properly and had their every need, save the ability to roam freely, provided for, it was permissible.

With the advent of superpowers, Constitutional Rights were no longer as iron-clad as they had once been. Oh, they existed still, rigorously defended and praised by politicians and law enforcement alike, but they were far more…flexible than they had once been. More open to creative enforcement and leisurely enforcement than they had been in decades past.

That was news, deeply concerning news, to the group from Earth Aleph. Even the Patriot Act, after 9/11, hadn't been this restrictive, and that had leveled most of Manhattan and kicked off a war that was still ongoing and turned most of Afghanistan and Iraq into uninhabited wastelands.

Global fundamentalist terrorism plus superpowers (even if those superpowers were far weaker than the those of this Earth was not, as it turned out, conducive to world peace or prosperity. It also meant, unfortunately, that a whole lot of the innocent people that got caught in the crossfire stood a chance at survival, even when their deaths were not being actively sought. Such was always the nature of a war born from ideals, especially when it was fought with the weapons of today and the tactics of yesterday.

They had planned on revealing themselves as interdimensional travelers, and supers at that, to the PRT when they reached Chicago. Knowing as they did now, though, that they could be locked up until Judgment Day without a single legal recourse (as far as they were aware) or protection, if they would have had them as interdimensional refugees in the first place, they were all rapidly reconsidering. Resuming their original methods might prove necessary.

Over an hour later, the bus finally pulled into its destination. It looked like a refugee camp, if one in a war zone. All blocky pre-fab shelters and chain-link fences, guards circling the perimeter and guarding a gate and watching over the entire complex from towers. The bus crossed the perimeter, passing smoothly through the gate (their previous transportation, following with all of their property, stopping outside the complex) before hissing to a halt.

"Once you disembark, please form an orderly line alongside the bus. Do not attempt to walk away from the bus, approach the staff, or otherwise act in a disruptive manner. The guards are authorized to use whatever force they deem necessary to ensure the safety of not just themselves and the other staff, but each and every one of you as well." Henderson instructed as the hydraulics settled the bus closer to the ground. With that, he and the other members of the PRT aboard disembarked. It was only once they were gone, and once the guards gathering around the bus had reached what had to be a procedurally decreed amount, the restraints clicked free and withdrew to free them all.

'Free'.

They got to their feet, slowly and unhappily, shuffling down the aisle and the stairs to form a line alongside the bus, though whether it was an orderly line or not was very much up for debate. Of course, under the circumstances, no reasonable person could really blame them, but just how reasonable was the PRT being at the moment anyway?

At any rate, and to the surprise of no one with a brain or empathy, the contents of the bus were busy clustering together in their own familial or friendly groups, seeking emotional comfort and some minor sense of physical safety amongst their own close companions. Fortunately for everyone involved, the PRT didn't seem inclined to make an issue out of it. A display of discretion that would have been deeply reassuring if it wasn't for all the other facets of the circumstances.

"Welcome to Camp Liberty." Reed addressed them again, blithely ignoring the supreme irony of name, and gestured to a classically attractive blonde woman that was standing beside him. Dressed it comfortable fatigues, tall, and with a slender build that nonetheless spoke of physical ability and gracefulness, her stern expression was head and shoulders above the cold apathy of the two Special Agents. "This is Strike Commander Dorne, also of the PRT, and she is in charge of this camp. All of you are expected to obey her instructions and those of her subordinates without question and to the absolute letter."

With that, he left, Henderson on his heels, the gate closing behind them with a rattle and a clank that sounded like a death knell. They all stood together, looking at the guards around them and the woman who led them and being looked at in turn, as the two Special Agents got into their nondescript black SUV and drove away.

"…pricks." Dorne said with a sigh after a moment, and the tension broke as the guards chuckled along with the bolder of the passangers. Clapping her hands slightly, she smiles gently at them all. "Ladies and gentlemen, despite the dour circumstances, I promise this is not some sort of thinly-veiled prison camp. We have no intention of keeping you here forever. In fact, we would very much prefer to get you out of here and back to your own lives as quickly as possible. All of us have families and loved ones of our own that we won't be able to see until we're done here, so please believe me what I say that."

"Pretty words, but I'm not hearing an explanation for how long we're going to be stuck here or what you plan on doing to us in the interim to make sure we're 'safe' to be released." A young man, one who had been riding alone, grunted from where he was leaning (quite indolently) against the side of the bus, arms folded and legs partially crossed.

"Ah, and you must be…" Dorne responded, quickly looking through a folder that one of her subordinates dutifully handed over when she held a hand out to him. Raising an eyebrow, she looks up at him with interest. "Lieutenant Kyle Kassidy, USMC. Force Recon. Any particular reason you're hanging out around here, LT?"

"Well, I was on a nice little road-trip during leave. See the sights, get some free drinks in the local bars. Then some cape-watching assholes decided that the things my buddies died for could take a hike to suit their paranoia. Not too happy, here, Dorne." He responded coldly, and the blonde PRT officer nodded with an expression of understanding.

"Strike Commander Dorne, Lieutenant." She warned, though it didn't seem to matter all that much to the young Marine, whose expression merely darkened, and she continued in a somewhat more conciliatory tone. "Kyle, I understand you're not happy about the situation. I'm not either, and I know that doesn't sound very impressive under the circumstances," she gestured to the guards and towers and fences around them, getting a bitter scoff of agreement from Kassidy. "But you know what Bonesaw is like. It would suit the Nine quite well to let you all go unharmed as a group of unwitting trojan horses, and you know a regular checkup won't spot anything that Bonesaw might have done. You have my word, my honor-bound vow, that we will bring Panacea out here to check on all of you the minute we think that the situation has stabilized enough to not have her be at risk. Are you willing to wait for that moment, to do your duty to your nation and its people by staying here until you are all cleared?"

Even the least-aware civilians in the group understood the base manipulation for what it was, and so did Kassidy. An appeal to his oaths and the sense of duty that would have an immediate and unavoidable effect, even knowing what she was doing. Dorne was unaffected by the censorious looks she received for such a low tactic, only dipping her head in satisfied acknowledgement when he looked away with another grunt.

"Now, all of you will be allowed to select your own dormitories. Separating family and friends from one another would only cause you undue stress, and we are here to help you, not hurt you." She continued, gesturing to the buildings around them. "Your property, once it has been properly cleared, will be returned to you directly. As long as there isn't anything that poses a risk or is against the law, you will get it back. I promise you that as well. Now, let's get all of you bunks and go from there."

Unsurprisingly, everyone opted to bunk with their own groups, and it didn't take long for the gamers from Aleph to get themselves some privacy in order to discuss the situation. On the one hand, they were now locked up for an indeterminate amount of time. On the other, one of the healers they were crossing the country in an effort to find would be on her way here as soon as was possible, at least according to their warden.

Now the question was before them: stay, or try to escape and keep moving?

"I think we should stay." Marissa said the minute the discussion began, uncharacteristically firm. She was normally the most soft-spoken of the group, shy and reclusive, more interested in the gaming than the people. "If we try to break out now, we might get hurt or killed, we might hurt or kill someone else, and they'll never stop hunting us either. Whoever these Slaughterhouse Nine guys are, they consider us being in the same city as them to be a good enough reason to lock us all up. If we bust out, especially if anyone gets hurt, the cops are going to take that as confirmation that we either work for them or they're controlling us somehow."

It was a persuasive argument to make right out of the gate, and Jess (who, by dint of her paralysis, was virtually immobile) agreed immediately. Cody and Krouse wanted to leave immediately and damn the consequences, Cody because he wanted to be free and Krouse because he wanted to protect Noelle from anything and everything regardless of whether or not the greatest healer in the world would soon™ be arriving to their location. Luke and Oliver were hesitant to state an opinion, neither comfortable where they were nor willing to ignore the risks of leaving.

It was Noelle who cast the deciding vote to stay.

"I'm tired of running, and I don't want us to make enemies of this entire dimension just because we got scared. We keep our heads down for now and wait. If we have to make a run for it later, we make a run for it later. No one knows we have powers, let's keep it that way." She decreed, ignoring the pleading look her boyfriend shot her and the loud groan that emanated from Cody. "If we have to, we blast our way out and head for Brockton Bay, but for now we play it safe."

Noelle was normally an easy-going, laid-back girl, but it was moments like this that reminded them all that she was the leader of their team. The girl that had led them into the professional leagues, and to victory, more than a handful of times.

Their marching orders received and an agreement, if begrudging on the parts of some, made with a plan to follow, they settled in to wait for the evening meal. Having no idea, never even imagining in their youthful ignorance, that the shelters might be bugged. Never guessing that their every word had just been monitored, recorded and reported.

Never guessing that, despite their best efforts, they were now firmly on the PRT's radar screen.

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And that's that, for now! This chapter was meant to be a lot longer with a lot of legalese stuff and arguments over the events that took place, but when I read it over it just slowed the chapter to a painful crawl, so I removed it all. Might look into restoring it if people are so inclined. Next update is Nothing Is True, then Conquest of Paradise.