Termination 21.x (Interlude: Break)
Staring at his men (and women), Break couldn't help the feelings of anxiety turning over in his gut. Lee had left him in charge, unable to attend this Enbringer Battle himself without bringing down a complete shitstorm on all their heads. Break knew the Endbringers were Sandbagging, but it wasn't until he'd gone and watched the footage of the old fights, the ones that Cauldron took for research, that he realized how bugfuck insane the Brockton Bay fight had been. And the fight against The Simurgh after. And even Behemoth's, the big sonofabitch throwing down a lot more energy than he had in fights before, at least all at once, Cauldron's cameras picking up the levels of radiation being let loose.
And Lee had fucking parried the damn thing before Break and his replicants had shut Behemoth down, then killed it with its own damn power.
Glancing over to his 'friend', the Projection that Lee had made of Vejovis floated next to him, observing the fight. Flamel's potions couldn't be used by it, since it was still 'Lee' to those things, but they'd outfitted it with some Tinkertech that'd let it fly, a low-level force-field, and a device that let it control beetles, and only beetles, that Taylor's group had whipped up. It was 'overseeing' things, because there was no way he could've given that speech and not showed up at the fight after.
And that speech. . . on one hand, Break was down for it. They'd gone turtle since the Slaughterhouse Nine, he could admit that, slowly spreading, but they'd been playing nice with Cauldron, and that wasn't always a good thing. Well, he'd been tweaking them, but he'd been makin' sure to use their powers to make sure they were cool with it. Lee. . . he hadn't talked to any of them about this.
Break was almost grateful when Toil an' Trouble called him in, including Contessa, which let him see what he could do to calm them the fuck down from his friend's literal declaration of war. They were getting ready to say screw it and go after him, but a bit of a dog and pony show, and some fast talking that was so quick his lips had been blazing, and everything was copacetic.
Oh, no, of course they weren't going after Cauldron (even though they totally were), they were gonna go abroad, and help stabilize some of the shitshows that was going on elsewhere, bringin' life there up to American standards, which would actually help with Triggers, ya see. The fact that they were meeting the Big Hat Man himself later helped, something that surprised the self-elected fucktards-in-chiefs. Those fleabaggers were wound tighter than an alterboy's asshole in the Vatican, so they didn't like being surprised, but they thought had a hold on Lee, through Break, so could be calmed down, thinkin' it would go fine, and even offered to help 'direct' the PD's attention overseas.
Since Lee was the one takin' point, Contessa's Path was as useless as tits on a bull, even when Break tried to use it himself to figure out his friend, but that meeting was so obviously a trap that the poo-inati's reaction just showed how dumb they were, thinkin' it'd all be fine. But dumb wasn't weak, and if Break wasn't there to talk 'em down, things could've gone bad.
Not like they hadn't already.
Don't get him wrong, he was glad his friend was back, over the fuckin' moon, but Lee. . . wasn't Lee.
No, Break thought, shaking his head, that wasn't right. His friend had always been weird, not just dancin' to the beat of his own drum, but headbanging to a different genre altogether. Being here, Break thought it'd make things better, get him away from the shit back home and give him a chance to shine.
But shit didn't shine in Earth Bet, it rusted.
Which is why ya had to made shit out of stone, in a way. Use a hammer, not a knife. Lee was stubborn, trying to do stuff the right way, which was why Break had tried to help him, working behind the scenes, to do things the way it'd actually work, but he'd fucked it up, and fucked it up bad. And he hadn't been the only one that suffered for it. But things were getting better, Lee had even woken up, when people had started to give up hope. He hadn't, Taylor hadn't, but Quinn had, as did most others, thinking Vejvois was a figurehead, a martyr, a symbol to hold up. Hell, Cauldron preferred it that way, since they were planning on co-opting that symbol out from under us.
Then that symbol had gotten back up.
But he was. . . different. Changed.
Break had known something had been going on with his friend, and the man had no idea what to do about it. His friend's odd habits had gotten worse, and then started to morph into something, something inhuman.
Not in a bad way! But, the way the man worked, especially when it came to powers, showed that there was something off about him. Break looked down at the masses, the PD having claimed one end of the deployment around Kansas City, and saw the powers of the people below him, having copied his friend's power sight before he'd left. It was a nifty little power, and since it worked on Endbringers he'd be able to tell everyone exactly what this 'Legion' asshole could do as soon as it showed up. But, for him, each person had a little label over their heads, and focusing on it opened up menus, listing the specifics of their powers, nothing like the 'Flames' or 'Auras' that Lee talked about, neither could he see anything about the way the Shards themselves worked, like his friend could.
And Break sure as shit couldn't speak Space Snake, even if he understood it.
No, his friend had been going. . . weird, each time he threw himself into the deep end, getting a bit more and more different each time he came out, getting stranger, though not Stranger. It'd been slow, though the bullshit with Leviathan had really been the first turning point. Or stumbling point. Talking with Lee, he'd copied the Green Blunder's power to have any three powers, but instead of being a boost it'd changed him, ripped away the abilities he had, but then brought them back. . . different.
As usual, Lee's timing was shit, and Break would always remember that desperate run to Panacea, feeling the give in his friend's costume that shouldn't be, the man's limbs flopping bonelessly as Break had desperately tried to keep his friend from dying, only the man's head intact because of his helmet, and opening up the costume on the table to see. . .
It was a wonder he didn't Second Trigger right then and there.
Well, knowing what it actually took, he got why he didn't. Just like he made sure to find Brian and talk to him, hearing the kid had gone through enough to push him over too. And the fact that Taylor already had. . . it was a miracle she was as stable as she was.
Only, she was going different too.
But that came later, and, as more and more heroes came to this fight, all of them riding high after Break's victory against Behemoth, like they had anything to do with that, but with the Endbringer nowhere in sight, Break could take the time to amble down memory lane.
It was a kinda shit street.
Lee had been a little different, after that, but still him, but he'd taken responsibility for the clusterfuck that'd been Brockton Bay afterwards, pushing forward, and Break, the coward, had let him. If he'd known what his friend had been doing, he would've stepped in, done more, done something, but he'd just sat on his ass, like he always did, not looking for things so he didn't have to know they existed, and if he didn't know, he didn't have to do anything about them.
It was only when they went to go build the monument for the dead, of those that'd been killed by Leviathan, that they all realized just how many people Lee had gathered, personally, the man almost certainly beating himself over every single one. Yeah, they'd seen the warehouse full of caskets, when the Merchants had attacked for the last time, but when Taylor said there were a few hundred there, she'd meant in that warehouse.
Lee'd filled over a dozen.
Then there was the bullshit with the monsters, the one that'd almost broken out and started an apocalypse, where they'd lost Lee for a bit, and he started speaking Snake for the first time, even if they didn't know it. They'd only had video for the first bit, but that should've killed him, would've killed any of them, but he'd just taken it, stumbled out, got jumped by the Dickumvirate, and almost thrown down with them right then and there, which should've told Break something was wrong, but Lee seemed fine a few days later, so he'd thought it was okay.
But he wasn't.
And the shit kept stacking up.
And then there was the Slaughterhouse Nine.
Now Lee'd woken up, and it'd only been a few months, but he was falling further and further into. . . whatever he was becoming, and Taylor was falling right with him, only. . . not.
They'd all tried to understand him before, though Break would admit he didn't try that hard. Lee always made sure to make himself understood, so if he wanted Break to understand something, he'd make sure he knew. Simple as. Taylor tried, but it was only when Lee'd woken up and started giving people powers by cutting them out of his fucking brain that she'd had real progress.
And that was. . . twelve kinds of fucked up, but it worked, and Lee wasn't really wrong in how useful it would be. Giving people powers, even if it had to be people who already had powers, was a serious force multiplier. Just look at Break! And, while wigsome, Break had messed up enough thinking he knew better than Lee, doing shit to try and 'help', only for it to always blow up, that he'd said nothing, believing his friend when he said he'd get them back.
And he had.
And was planning on cutting them right back out.
But Taylor was there, and while Lee was getting worse and worse, Break took some comfort in the fact his friend wasn't quite so alone anymore.
Because she understood him, sorta, and worked kind of like a translator sometimes, but damn if it didn't put his hairs on end when she first talked like he did, only not. She was still using English, even if it was something more, in ways Break couldn't describe.
Lee?
Hadn't said a single word in his entire speech.
But Herb had Heard him all the same.
And recognized the feeling, though it was like comparing a campfire to a fucking volcano going off in your face.
Lee was the fire.
The Volcano?
Abaddon.
And Break. . . didn't know what to do.
Glancing at the Projection, he couldn't see its power, but it was a Minion, a power created monster, and Lee'd already talked to him about that limitation on his power sight, something that was still there even if you were using the normal version instead of the weird supercharged shit his friend had.
Using Quinn's power, Break felt out the communication network that had been set up, easy enough for him to hack with the last bit of Contessa's power, the time limit on that one was almost up. He could feel them now, the ones he'd copied, slowly ticking down, slipping away, and while he had them for more than an hour these days, he never got caught off guard by losing them in the moment anymore. It was easy as shit to slide into the electronic connection, becoming a living program for a moment, darting through the entire comm net and leaping back out to take his position once more.
With a few hundred new powers.
It was an easy to say thing, a whole different thing to handle, and Break mentally paged through them, recognizing a few, like Miss Militia's, Velocity's, and re-upping the timer on the Triumvirate's. It was tempting to use the second's superspeed, but his powers timed out to his hour, not the world's, so all he'd be doing was wasting his charge.
Glancing around, there was still no sign of this 'Legion', and his people were looking around nervously. Tapping a telepathy power he'd picked up somewhere he spoke to them directly, the ability as easy to use as his own, his Copycat copying the user's skills with it as well, thank the Lord.
~Everyone stay ready! If you have defenses to build, do it. Seems we got the time. Keep your potions ready, but don't drink 'em until the fighting starts, or I say to,~ he commanded, glancing to 'Vejovis', who nodded in agreement. It wasn't really Lee, he'd understood that much, but was how Lee saw himself as Vejovis. Given what they'd found when they gone to try and save Lee in Boston, Break wondered how much the persona was Lee, and how much was something. . . else.
And Boston had been a. . . a complete fuckin' disaster. Break knew that Shadow was right. He shoulda done more. Shoulda suggested they go somewhere else. But he'd just seen Lee trying to do their Maine trip again, and thought he hadn't had to do anything other than tag along, just like he had then. Lee did his best, but was apparently sneaking off to play hide the Shard with The Simurgh's kid of all things which. . . just gave Break the heeby jeebies, and Taylor, for some reason, was okay with it, and could talk Endbringer, and they all turned out to just be talkin' Snake, and. . .
Break fucked up then.
He wouldn't fuck up here.
Head in the game, Herbert, he told himself, going over his powers.
Again. Hundreds of them, four precog powers, twelve different fire control powers, twenty-nine that let you make fire, sixty-three let you fly without extra shit, a hundred and seventy that made you stronger without a downside, and so on. Keeping an eye out, Break started slapping on every one that was passive, letting the ones that conflicted fight it out in his own power, which did the work for him, feeling his body twitch and shift as they settled.
Passive powers were fine, it was the ones that weren't that were the problem.
Flipping through them, Break started making combos, grouping up similar powers to all fire off at once, so he'd be able to wave a hand and shoot twelve fireballs, seven fire beams, three fire swords, and a fire bird, which he made a partridge, because he had a power that could make a pear tree, so fuck it why not?
Again, he compared himself to Lee, and came up lacking, in ways he was trying to fix, but realized he was months behind, having costed. One or two at a time, to over-power someone with their own ability, but to use different powers all at once? It was hard as shit. Like patting your head, while rubbing your tummy, while reciting the alphabet, while blinking each eye one at a time, while playing hopscotch, while flapping your arms, while hip-thrusting, while wriggling your toes.
And he'd done that.
And it'd fuckin' helped.
But managing that much, and keeping your head in the game, well, only about half the time he flew into shit it was because he meant to.
He was up to about a couple dozen at any given time, and he was damn proud of that fact, right up until he'd asked his friend how many he could use at once, and the man had just frowned, teleported out for a minute, then popped back, said, "All of them. Huh, probably should do that more. Thanks!" and left like it was no big deal.
And that motherfucker had over fifty of the damn things, some of which were a bitch to handle on their own, when Break had copied them from the original users. Like Legend's, which was all well and good when you just did lasers, but when he tried to shape it like he'd seen Lee and his Echidna clones try, he'd practically had an aneurism, only making something with a glimmer of power before he'd had to drop it, brain aching and bleeding like his nose had a fuckin' period.
But this wasn't about Lee. This was about Break. And his ability to lead.
Lee had trusted him on this, so he wasn't going to let his friend down.
Looking back around, more and more Parahumans were coming in, encircling the city, and Break caught sight of a disk of energy appearing in the air, in a spot between where the PD were setting up and where one of the Protectorate groups were deploying. From out of the blue disk came five soldiers, but, like, Romans. At first Break thought they were Case 53's, but he'd read Cauldron's database, and none of them were like this.
Their skin was made of red crystal, with seafoam green Roman armor, down to the little skirt things, each with a big-ass green shield and a long fancy looking green spear. Their eyes, which Break used a light shifting power to get a better look at, the image magnifying in front of him, were pure white, and glowed a little, but, looking at them with Lee's power sight, he got nothing, which meant they weren't Parahumans, but Minions.
Well, the fact that they were identical was kind of a clue.
Looking around, Break saw more of those blue disks had sprung up around the city, moving into position in the spots that everyone else had missed, a group of five having come out of each one, including on the PD's other side, stepping between them and the Guild.
Speaking of, Break spotted the new Dragon, as well as Khione. He'd never met Lee's cousin, but he'd talked about her, so Break knew the chick wasn't just some local Mastering his friend.
Lee never mentioned how much of bitch she was, though.
Break knew he didn't have room to talk, with the shit he pulled, but something about the girl just rubbed him the wrong way, but, with the way the rest of Lee's family acted, she fit right in. Break didn't remember Lee's dad being that squirrely, but they'd been able to visit the guy at his house, and Charles was just like he was back home: fucking useless unless it was something the boy already wanted to do, and as dependable as a chocolate bar in a Floridian summer.
But, hey, they still got intel from 'Medhu', even if they didn't need it this time, and Charles had fought when Leviathan had attacked Brockton Bay, so maybe Grace would actually help here.
Looking at her, seeing all the powers she had, including his own, which was giving her a second copy of everyone's power she got near, bringing them up to sixty-six percent usefulness, he agreed with Taylor.
Grace not showing because her 'armor wasn't ready' was complete fuckin' bullshit.
One of Break's precog powers, the one he'd picked up when he'd zipped over to the Thinker group in San Fran, started going off, giving him a 'Five!' which was. . . bad? Another five soldiers stepped out of the portals, whatever Master probably making them as fast as he could, and another Precog power went 'Red!' which was. . . yeah, also bad.
Looking around, the potions everyone had would only last half an hour, and they'd already been here for almost an entire one, the time they got for when this shit would kick off from Medhu being 'Three-ish. Action dependent.'
And it was almost three-thirty.
Break hesitated, not sure. A few minutes might mean the difference between winning and losing, and-
Wait, he thought, as more of those Minion soldiers showed up, bringing the total up to fifteen each, having to remember that, despite what Lee had said, they weren't here to win, they were here to scout.
A different precog power woke up, announcing, 'Deployment!' but Break had already made his choice, announcing to the PD ~Use your potions!~ reaching out to the Triumvirate to tell them, ~Break here, precog powers say it's coming!~
Looking around, he tried to spot the Endbringer. Would it come from below ground? From the sky? The Missouri River was right there, but it seemed fine, not surging like it would if Leviathan was gonna show up.
Then Precog powers yelled in his head, a cacophony of 'SEVEN!' 'GRAY!' 'ARRIVAL!' and 'FUCKING DODGE!'
Reflexively popping Gauge's glimpse, to see the attack coming before it hit, Break was confused, since it was supposed to activate as soon as he'd get hurt in its range, which should've been five minutes ago.
Only to see. . . nothing?
The city was still there, as were the PD. 'Vejovis' was gone, because it was a Blindspot as it was technically part of Lee, though not enough of one for Scion to notice and freak out over, at least according to The Simurgh, and the fact that they were trusting that thing was, well, life now, Break guessed. Just as he couldn't get anything off of it with power sight, Goldenrod wouldn't be able to either, partly because it wasn't Lee behind its eyes, just another Shard in a crowd of them.
So. . . where was the threat?
Toggling off Theo's glimpse just for a sec, all of Break's Precog powers screamed for a tiny fraction of a second, before shutting back up as he turned glimpse back on, precog powers not working in a precog power, which was what Theo's power was, the Second Triggered ability overriding the others, and not playing well with any of them.
His people were all milling about in this future vision, having drunk their potions, Flamel having created enough to give everyone a Brute four rating, or adding onto their own toughness, Lee having helped him- no her with them. And the fact that Flamel was a hot chick was a bit weird, but Break didn't judge. ~Stay here, and be on guard,~ he ordered, or his power modeled him telling them, and then modeled their reactions, as he flew off in the direction of the closest Protectorate group, looking for what he'd missed.
Alexandria was there, tense, glancing around, demanding, "Well?" when he got close.
"We're in a precog vision. Mine," he told her, the woman shooting him a sharp look.
"You can copy. . .of course you can," she sighed. "And I won't remember this. Fine. What do you want?"
He smiled, the woman a cast-iron cunt, but she rolled with shit like this when it was something that would help her. Combine that that with Contessa's path, and she'd told him a lot that she hadn't meant to. Too bad he had to prep his questions in real-time, that power not working in glimpses either.
"Precog powers are all goin' nuts in reality, but I ain't seein' what's wrong. You?" he questioned.
She looked around, and he saw her glance in the direction 'Vejovis' should be, dismiss it, glance where Grace should've been, and do the same, which sent a chill down his spine. Cauldron knows Lee's Cousin's a Blindspot. But they don't care. That meant the girl was in danger, and probably didn't know it.
He hadn't found any record of her in Cauldron's systems, but she'd just visited Lee a few days ago, so they might've been looking into her since. Note to self, warn him. But he'd do that later, now he needed to find out what was going on.
Beside him, Alexandria stiffened. Well, she got a little more still, but with how many passive sensory powers Break was packing, she might as well have screamed 'OH LORDY!' at the top of her lungs, and he turned to follow her gaze, over to one of the blue disks where the weird soldiers had been coming ou-
.
. .
. . .
They weren't there.
Oh fuck.
Suddenly the more talkative of the Precog powers made way too much sense. 'Deploying' and 'Arrival' were certainly fuckin' right.
"Uh," he said dumbly, not that anyone would remember him doing so. "Red soldiers guys weren't you?"
"I thought they were yours," Stasis Stacy snapped. "God knows you, Vejovis, and the rest have enough Parahumans working for you!"
"Well. . . shit," Break swore. "They're all Blindspots, and none of them are the real one. Or, at least, the core hasn't showed up to the party yet."
Alexandria shot him an annoyed look, not bothering to keep her 'above it all attitude', just like every other time she realized this wasn't real. Well, she'd tried to kill him, like, a couple hundred times, but then had figured out somehow that she'd tried it before so stopped trying and was almost nice nowadays. "Vejovis' ability to see powers?"
"Super useful," Break nodded, trying to figure out what to do next.
He'd pop in throw up shields, order everyone to attack, and then. . . what? Keep fighting until the big guy showed up himself?
"When you stop this, tell us to initiate Legion Protocols," Alexandria commanded him, pausing, her expression flattening with anger. "You knew what this was."
Break smiled, not going to put it the way she told him to, since that'd also tell her that he was a precog, which was just dumb. Or that he'd hacked their systems, also dumb.
However, this part of the glimpse was always fun.
"Oh, yeah, The Simurgh dropped by with her daughter and told us this fucker's name was Legion, like, a week ago, and if you witchy bitches didn't all have sand up your vaginas you coulda had all that time to plan," he informed the woman tauntingly.
Her outraged expression was always worth it, and he reset the glimpse, back in front of everyone in the PD, giving himself time to think, and plan, as he called down to them, ~It'll be here in six minutes, get ready!~ to keep them from bugging him while he figured shit out.
So, the red and green fuckers were the Endbringer, like the worst Christmas elves ever. And he was supposed to dodge, which meant they could either shoot shit, or throw their fancy spears, or jump up and stab him with the same fancy spears. With everyone having drunk their potions, they were stronger, but not 'shot in the face by Behemoth' strong. But if there were a whole bunch of them, they probably weren't all actually Endbringer strong on their own, so they probably were gonna all hit him at once with a volley, or a charge, or some shit.
Which, considering he'd killed Behemoth by rope-a-doping the craggy asshole with himselves, kind of made sense. Couldn't outnumber the Endbringer if it outnumbered you a hundred to one after all. If they went after him, Break could probably take it, but there were a lot of people here, and he needed to keep them safe too.
So he needed shields.
Which he could make with. . . fifty-eight different powers.
And then some kind of blast that he could make without line of sight.
Two hundred different ones popped up. Well, two hundred and three. Same diff.
With a sigh, he started sorting, needing to get this right.
"Of course 'Legion' is a fuckin' Roman Legion," he muttered to himself, mentally setting the glimpse to auto-cycle at the end of its duration. "God, this is gonna take fuckin' hours."
AB
Resetting the Cycle again, he went through the patterns, throwing up the shields, then the blasts, all of which went off in practiced sequences, none of which he'd be able to use in the rest of the fight without pasting everyone nearby, which hit nothing at all, but. . . "Okay, yeah, this works," he sighed, taking a breath. There was a reason he didn't abuse Gauge's power like this. His body was fine, reset each time, but his mind got no rest, and the battle hadn't even fuckin' started.
Alexandria came barreling though his shields, the one that stayed up after he let them go, and looked around, trying to figure out what was going on, just as she had the last sixty-something times he'd done this.
"What- Precog? You can copy. . . of course you can," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, just like she had the last hundred times.
"It's the legionnaires. They're the Endbringer," he told her, having gotten his phrasing down after the first fifty attempts.
She nodded, commanding, "Of course. Tell me to use the Legion Protocols."
"Will do, Contessa's cuter, by the way," he remarked, smiling at the slightly offended look on her face, before cycling one last time, taking a deep breath, and releasing the glimpse.
'DANGER!' his Precog powers shouted as one, but he was already moving, dropping and throwing his hands out, walls of fire, force, ice, lightning, wind, light, metal, water, and more flashing into place, between them and the two groups of Endbringers-Spawn on either side of them, calling out to everyone in range of his power, ~The Legionnaires are the Endbringer!~
The soldiers were already moving, an x-ray power letting Break see them shift and cluster, and a half second later he brought up walls on the group on other side of the Guild. Shifting gears, he thrummed down his powers, playing them like a goddamned piano, blasting down with a dozen different elements on the three enclosed groups, opening portals and firing more, not holding back as he tried to tearing everything in that space apart.
The ES's tried to react, the twenty in each group turtling in that thing the Romans did, green shields glowing, even as their spears, poking out, shone green and fired off thick bolts of energy that dug into the walls, but barely made a dent.
Then Break's attacks hit, and the shields stopped everything that touched them, but the physical attacks pushed the Endbringer-Spawn down, opening holes in their formation, more attacks pouring in and destroying them in an instant, anything that wasn't negated ripping right through them. What he used was massive fucking overkill, but better over than under.
All around he heard screams with power-enhanced clarity as the ES's started their motherfucking ambush, tearing into the Capes all around. Break pointed forward about to order everyone to go support the others when another ten of the damn things came out of every portal, Break blasting them apart again, but an enormous blue disk opened up in the center of the city, dozens more ES's marching out in lockstep, but still with no sign of the true threat.
"Group Omicron, take the right portal, Group Tinne, left one, Haglaz, the one after that!" he ordered, a single Glimpse giving him time to check his chart and assign them, the vision creepily peaceful compared to the chaos of combat. "Everyone else, stay in your teams and spread out. Raido, Dagaz, Muin, Straif, Uath, Alpha, Omega, on me! We're going in' deep, and seein' if we can cut 'em off at the base! Come on boys, it looks like we're fighting the Legion this time!" he grinned, excited, but with dread he dared not show. "Then again, this is a war after all, so let's do as the Romans do, and kill the fuck out of them!"