Armsmaster sat in the PRT HQ's medical bay, wondering how it all went wrong.
A flash of silver flames struck his side and his world spun as mountainous rocks fell upon him, burying him alive in fire and stone.
He'd admit that it was all a blur after that. He remembered the burning pain in his lungs as he inhaled the hot haze of air, remembered the flashes of light and heat, the sound of destruction and mayhem as concrete broke and crashed.
And then there was the glass.
There were tons of it, shaped in twisted spires, a towering monument to the devastation wrought by two villains who had too much power in their hands.
The experience felt too surreal, like an abnormal dream, and he wondered when he would wake up.
When he did wake up, it was to the sight of Amy Dallon—Panacea disgruntled with bags in her eyes, looking as frazzled as someone who was woken up at 3:00 A.M. which to be fair, she was.
She mouthed something he couldn't make out through the ringing in his ears. And then she placed a hand on his arm and his ears cleared up.
"I healed what I could, but he'll need more rest."
She said some more things, her lips moving to form words to the PRT agent at her side.
"—My teammates?" A voice that ground sandpaper asked, and he realized that it was he who spoke.
Panacea and the PRT agent gave each other a sideways glance.
"Sorry, but I think you should just rest for now." The PRT agent said, sending a subtle nod, a small gesture telling Panacea to leave.
"No—my team. Are they safe? Are they alright?" Armsmaster insisted, pushing himself up, feeling only one hand pressed down on the bed. He finally looked down at himself, assessing his wounds. It was hard to miss the glaring stump where his arm used to be.
"Armsmaster, just calm down. Take deep breaths and—"
"The damages, casualties, how bad are they?" Armsmaster ignored the agent, ignored the phantom sting of an arm that was no longer there. He pushed himself up on a shaky arm. "My team? What's their status?"
Armsmaster's gaze bore holes into Panacea's head. The younger girl tensed, torn in indecision, before finally relenting with a defeated sigh, her head hanging low.
"Fine."
Armsmaster waved away the wheelchair. He didn't need it, despite his legs aching in protest. He had suffered worse injuries than this, and he would recover, just as always.
Maybe he won't recover the arm. At the very least, it would be a fun project to pursue with Dragon.
He walked on trembling legs, the PRT agent and Panacea acting as his guides, though they were less enthused with the idea of him up and about, which Armsmaster didn't share. He wasn't out of commission just yet.
He was led to four rooms. They were all white and bland as the rest, but who they contained was what mattered to him. Miss Militia—Hannah was recovering well enough from her burns, though she was still asleep, recovering. Battery, though exhausted, was already conscious, which was some much-needed good news. She seems to have left her room, however, having left for personal reasons. Velocity was the least injured to come out of it, which was a pleasant surprise. Even with his power of pseudo-super speed, it must have been difficult to survive the chaos and sheer destruction of the night before. Triumph's low-end brute rating saved him from the worst of scars and most grievous of wounds. He was still unconscious however, the doctors uncertain when he would wake up.
He asked where the rest of his team was.
He was led to the morgue. Their bodies were covered by white tarps.
Panacea stayed behind. She told the PRT agent to contact her if any unexpected issues were to crop up with Armsmaster's health.
Battery was there, hands on her face. Sobbing next to the body that was presumably Assault's. You couldn't tell, their bodies were horribly scarred, charred black with countless burns. Even when covered by the tarp, he could catch the sight of blackened skin.
Armsmaster's eyes roamed around the cold mortuary and asked why there were only two bodies.
The PRT agent informed him that there wasn't enough of Dauntless to recover.
And Armsmaster felt… numb.
He envied Dauntless for his power. His popularity. "Brockton's rising star" they called him. He could imbue items with energy, something he charged passively. He did no work, there was hardly any effort on his part. Unlike Armsmaster, who had to continuously refine and upgrade his weapons and armor. All the technology he designed himself in his long tenure from when he first started as a ward up to the point where he was now. Leader of the Brockton Protectorate.
He also had a wife and child. Dauntless never told him, but it was a fact he knew from perusing his files, another one of his tedious tasks as the leader of the team.
Armsmaster felt the taste of ash on his lips.
He removed his gaze from the covered bodies, moving on the Battery—who was in a generic white hospital gown. Ironically enough, the temporary domino mask betrayed her identity.
Armsmaster wanted to comfort her, to say something reassuring. Assault was rowdy at the best of times. A reformed villain who broke out the worst of scum in the middle of their transport to the birdcage, a misguided act of justice. He was also a great hero, who offered humor and levity even in the direst of moments. He was a good colleague, one he was proud to say to have worked with.
And so why was it when Armsmaster opened his mouth to speak, no words would form? Unable to say anything he deemed meaningful, his mouth shut closed with an audible click.
He instead gave Battery a reassuring pat on the shoulder. The action rang hollow, and Battery didn't seem to notice the gesture.
He was never good at socializing with others. He was professional, yes. He could smile for the camera and say some PRT-approved lines without flaw. But this? He did not have many friends. He couldn't afford to. All his time was devoted to optimizing himself. To become better, more efficient than before. He trained, he designed, he built, and then he trained with what he built. He couldn't afford to waste time on something as trivial as socializing.
Armsmaster spun on his heel, slamming the doors open with newfound strength and determination.
"I'm going to my lab." He said bluntly like it was a fact. The sky was blue, the villains outnumbered the heroes, and Armsmaster worked in his lab.
"But sir—!" The agent protested, and Armsmaster snapped.
"This is not up for discussion."
The agent was much quieter after that, sedately trailing after him like a mewling dog.
Armsmaster was going to make this right.
He should have captured Nemesis during his first appearance. A lesser man would have argued that it was not his fault he let Nemesis escape. Armsmaster was not a lesser man.
He would review and analyze the footage, think up new countermeasures, and he was going to take Nemesis down.
His stump tingled, its vestige assaulted by pricks and needles.
o0O0o
"Very well." Rebecca Costa Brown, chief director of the PRT agreed, and director Piggot of the PRT ENE tried not to hold back a grim smile.
"I'll be honest, a part of me feared that even now, you would have denied Brockton Bay the assistance that it so desperately needs." Director Piggot said, a hint of disapproval in her voice.
"That was before you allowed a villain to rampage across the city, his reign of violence uncontested by the PRT. Not only this, but he even challenged us. Publicly, I might add." There was a slight thinning of her eyes as Director Costa Brown continued. "Do you even know the repercussions of such an act? Villains all across the country will think us weak! They'll get the idea into their heads that they can do whatever they want so long as they have the power to back it up, all thanks to this Nemesis!"
Director Piggot scowled, her neutral expression completely wiped away. "Maybe if you just gave us the help we needed sooner, then none of this would have happened in the first place!"
There was a small cough. On another screen, Director Armstrong's eyes nervously darted between the two. "Be that as it may." He began calmly. "We can point fingers later. I believe we have more pressing matters at hand?"
The two warring directors shot each other a final glare.
"It is as you say." Director Costa Brown agreed. "An operation as big as this has only been attempted a few times before, so we'll have to sort out all the details. We'll have to do it fast too since we have no way of knowing when Nemesis will strike again. Is there any information you can share with us concerning Nemesis? His powers, personality, anything at all?"
"Surprisingly enough, we do have a good amount of information on him, despite his brief appearance." She said through gritted teeth as she sent the file they have on Nemesis to each of the PRT directors. "As for powers? We're currently looking at a tentative Changer 9, although I'm pushing for a 10 with the ease he dealt with Lung last night. We have seven confirmed transformations, each with a different powerset. You can view these in the files I sent you."
On the files on Nemesis were sections dedicated to each transformation. The first recorded transformation as seen by Velocity was a giant "roly-poly" with a tentative name of "Cannonbolt" due to his ability to curl himself into a ball and shoot himself at high speeds. In the next few transformations, Nemesis named himself. There was Rath, Eatle, Ball Weevil, and Feedback. The following night, there were reports of an "Eye cape firing lasers" which was believed to be Nemesis in yet another Changer form, before his subsequent clash with Lung using two different Changer forms, a pyrokinetic that packed more firepower than Lung and a high-end brute that grew larger than Lung.
"As for his personality? We're seeing signs of megalomania, considering the way he fights, using quips and jokes, showing the complete and total confidence he has in himself and his powers. What's arguably worse is the sociopathy, considering his casual disregard for human life." Director Piggot said, each word adding more fuel to the fire as her fellow directors read through the files with horror and realization dawning on their faces.
"Are we expecting any Thinker support?" Director Piggot asked, her voice cutting off the growing silence.
Director Costa Brown usually held a tighter lid on her emotions, but no one could rebuke her, considering recent events. "No, all pre-cog style Thinkers in the country, if not the world have been down for the last week." She paused, the silence so palpable you could hear a pin drop. "From the weakest pre-cog… to the greatest."
No one still knew if the recording of the Simurgh panicking and screaming, her face twisted into a rictus of fear before shooting up into space and cocooning herself in a fortress of wings was a good thing or bad.
As they considered this, Director Piggot hit the floor and rolled underneath her table with surprising grace for her size as Brockton Bay trembled, an earthquake hitting the city. The lights flashed and flickered as bits and pieces of plaster dropped from the ceiling as the ground thundered and shook.
Already, sirens can be heard in the distance as disaster relief and first responders began their search and rescue efforts, catching not a second of a break from last night's disaster.
"Director Piggot, director! What's happening out there?" Director Costa Brown asked as the shaking began to subside.
Just as Director Piggot began to crawl out of her hiding place, Deputy Director Renick burst into her office, sweat and panic caked in his features.
"Nemesis is fighting the Empire in the destroyed remains of the Medhall building!"
Director Piggot banged her head on her desk upon hearing the news.
"We're ending the meeting early in light of this new information." Director Costa Brown cut in, steadily ignoring the groaning overweight woman. "Director Piggot, expect reinforcements to your city soon. The PRT isn't going to sit idly by as a supervillain does as he pleases."
And then the video fizzled out, the stern face of Director Costa Brown disappearing as the feed cut off. Soon, the other directors followed their example, until it was only Director Piggot and Deputy Director Renick the only ones left in her office.
Director Piggot stood up, renewed determination written into her features.
"Send word to all our people that reinforcements are coming." Director Piggot said as she gazed out and into the city.
"The PRT is rallying for war."
o0O0o
The Medhall corporation based in Brockton Bay was a symbol of better times when the city's economy flourished and when things weren't as bad as they are now. It was a towering monument that inspired hope in the good people of the city, a hope that times could become better.
It was also the home base of the largest gang in the city.
Max Anders, the CEO of Medhall, was better known for his infamous alias as Kaiser, the gang leader of the Empire eighty-eight. Currently, at the top of Medhall headquarters, were gathered the Empire's capes to discuss Brockton bay's newest villain.
"He killed Lung!" Purity argued, her mousy face scowling at him. "We couldn't even beat Lung at his worst!"
Hookwolf stood up with a growl, not unlike his namesake, hooks, and blades shifting underneath his skin. "That fucker killed Cricket and Stormtiger! If you think we're just going to sit around while he—"
"Hookwolf, that's enough," Kaiser said, the regality in his voice was hard to be faked. He calmly raised an arm, silencing any further dissents.
"Kayden," Kaiser said, his deep tone commanding respect and attention "The only reason we couldn't beat Lung was that the rules forced us to hold back. But with this Nemesis? This villain who has so blatantly stepped over the cape's gentlemen's agreements that kept the country from falling to…" He waved a hand to the city's skyline, where even now, smoke and sirens can be seen and heard throughout the city. "Chaos and anarchy. No, removing this blight from the world will be a favor, and the Empire will accomplish what even this city's so-called heroes couldn't."
"But make no mistake, Nemesis has proven to be a formidable foe. This is why I've requested your presence back into the fold if only just for this one battle, Purity." Kaiser finished, and the crown of blades resting on his head gleamed a brilliant silver.
Kayden squirmed in her seat, her lips quivering as if she wasn't quite sure what to do. She shook her head as if to shake away that high school fantasy where Max approached her with his guile and charisma, sinking his claws into her and bringing her into the Empire.
"Fine." She relented. "But just this once! After this, we're through."
Kaiser nodded. "Very well. If you want to cut ties with the Empire that badly, then so be it. So long as you aid us in the upcoming fight. After that?" he trailed off. "That will be up to you. Rest assured, I shall keep my word."
It was at that moment that everything fell apart.
The whole building wobbled and swayed as the earth quaked beneath their feet, with Medhall headquarters doing its very best to simulate a Jenga tower in real life.
Kaiser only had a split second to process as his entire world crashed down around him.
When the dust settled and the shaking stopped, there was this mountainous pile of rubble and ruin from where Medhall used to be. Great blades pierced through the wreckage. Rocks and debris exploded outward as swords and steel bars punctured the remains of the once-standing structure. And then they receded, revealing Kaiser's armor, battered and beaten, but still alive.
A dazzling beam of shining light and a wolf constructed of hooks and blades burst through the mound of splintered rebar and smashed concrete, Purity hovering silently in the air and Hookwolf snarling, sounding like something of clashing blades as his hooks dug into the fragmented street.
Great, lumbering forms overshadowed the destruction. Fenja and Menja stood at an imposing three stories in height. Bits and pieces of rubble rained down from their armored figures.
Alabaster's body was impaled on spears made of jagged rebar, with their lengths piercing through his arms, legs, and chest. He lay there, unbreathing. Dead.
Four point three seconds later, he heaved a dry breath and coughed out a glob of blood. He was still impaled on those broken poles. He struggled, straining his muscles even as blood dripped down to the earthen soil. And then he slumped, dead.
Four point three seconds later and he was alive again.
A lithe figure crashed on the ground, riding a steed made of scrap and rocks. Rune clutched her bleeding and aching side where a piece of rebar pierced through. Shards of broken glass nicked at her face, her lips twisting into a grimace of pain. Her feet planted themselves firmly on the ground as tons of stone began to float around her.
There was this thick, choking fog that transformed itself back into a man. He held his hand out for a lady, who took it in her own as he helped her down, the monster slinking back into the demure woman where prying eyes could not see.
Krieg, Othala, Victor, and Crusader remain nowhere to be seen, buried in the tomb that used to be a symbol of the Empires' power and resources.
There was also this hulking figure garbed in crimson armor. He had what looked to be metallic parts embedded into his body. Black and gray steel can be seen contained within his torso, arms, and shoulders. His tail swayed idly by as if to display his lack of concern with the damage he had wrought on the city.
His head was corinthian in shape, with two metallic ears on top of its head like antennae. His eyes glowed a deep red, and on its chest was the symbol that the city had come to fear.
Nemesis.
"Last night, a dragon was slain." Nemesis said, observing each of the damaged forms of the Empire eighty-eight. "Today, an Empire falls."
In the end, it was Hookwolf who charged first. He was the most aggressive, the most bloodthirsty of them all. He charged at him with all the ferocity of a ravenous wolf, but with a body of shredding steel and claws of sharpened hooks. They found no purchase against Nemesis' armored plates. Claws and talons that have slain countless others found themselves blunted in his reckless charge.
Hookwolf did succeed in pushing Nemesis back, steeled feet digging into the pavement as a wolf the size of a truck made of serrated blades clawed and bit and slashed at him. Nemesis grabbed Hookwolf in a vice grip, the metal bending and slithering into a more malleable form as it attempted to squeeze out of his clutches.
Nemesis slammed Hookwolf down into the ground. On his free arm, his hand morphed into a drill, the air screeching this horrid noise as it whirred to life. "You know what happens to rabid dogs?" The drill was now aimed at Hookwolf's muzzle. "They get put down."
Of course, that was when Purity attacked. From her hands came these beams of light, their brightness was nearly blinding as they burned through the air and erupted into violent explosions as they hit Nemesis' armored bulk.
Nemesis and Hookwolf were both obscured by dust and smoke. It was Hookwolf who reemerged first, half of his body molten slag as he scampered across the ground with his tail between his legs. Next was this dulled flash of red light, from which a crimson blur erupted from the haze.
"Jetray!" Exclaimed this creature, with skin as red as the sunset. His body resembled that of a bat crossed with a manta ray, with golden horns on his head shaped like a "Y" and the underside of his wings the same shade of color. From between his legs was this slim tail, and on his chest was the hourglass device.
Jetray soared through the air as swiftly as the wind. It happened in the blink of an eye; one moment he was lifting himself off of the ground, and the next moment, he was right next to Purity.
There was yet another flash of light and Jetray transformed again in midair into a different form. This one was as red as the first, but with skin that resembled hardened leather and was filled to the brim with rippling muscles. His feet ended in two-toes prongs, but the most notable feature was his two pairs of arms made of bulging muscles with spikes scattered about. He wore a black tank top with a red streak running down the middle, where it touched his red and black belt that housed his hourglass symbol.
"Four Arms!" He shouted, his two sets of eyes glaring in crimson shades.
Purity's head snapped behind her, energy building in her palms—
"—Down you go!"
And then two sets of meaty fists smashed down on her head, rocketing her down and into the earth, the ground cratering against the force. She didn't even have the chance to scream.
Four arms followed her soon after, gravity taking hold of him as he braced his legs and crashed onto the ground.
Purity was a bloodied mess, with broken bones protruding from her mangled body. Her head looked caved in and was twisted at an odd angle. Her blank eyes gazed listlessly to the side.
Rune was there, her breathing haggard and spent. She shrieked what may have been a battle cry—or perhaps a cry of horror as she sent a load of crushed stones hurling toward Four Arms, crushing him beneath the tons of mass.
And then Rune gasped as her telekinetic hold was shattered, the rubble she controlled bursting into fragmented projectiles as Four Arms displayed his remarkable strength.
Four Arms leveled a gaze on Rune's wounded form, something similar to mocking derision played on his lips.
"You really think you can beat me?" He said. "I can beat you with four arms tied behind my back!"
"I don't need to beat you…" Rune spat out between panted breaths. "I just need to… distract you."
Four Arms only had a moment to process those words before a spear as tall as a building struck him in the chest and smacked him away. Four Arms bowled on the ground, spinning meters away until momentum finally left him as he fell flat on his face with a pained groan.
"Ouch." He said as he planted his hands on the street, pushing himself up. Once on his two feet, there was this flash of steel as Fenja thrust her spear at him once again, the giant not wanting to give him any chances to recover.
Four Arms prepared himself, muscles tensing as he caught the large spear in his four hands, his arms straining in the effort as he was shoved away, his feet digging trenches into the rough pavement.
With a burst of strength, Four Arms grappled the shaft with three arms, raising his fourth to perform a hammer blow on the spear's pole.
Metal was rended and torn, Four Arms jumping meters into the air, up and above where Fenja thrust her tipless spear into the ground. Four Arms threw his arm back, his grip on the short rod that connected it to the spear tip like a hilt to an overly large sword.
"The bigger they are—" Four arms began, grunting in the effort as he threw his makeshift projectile like a javelin. Winds screamed and bellowed as the projectile screeched through the air, piercing Fenja right through her eye and out her head in a macabre explosion of blood and gore.
"—The harder they fall!" Four Arms finished with a flourish, landing on the ground just at the same time Fenja's lifeless corpse toppled over a building, which crumbled beneath her weight.
And then suddenly there was this dense, strangling fog that muddled the senses. It engulfed Four Arms, swirling all around him in its cramped thickness.
A woman walked in, unassuming lest for her ostentatious dress. Her footsteps were evenly measured as she stepped into the rolling mist, her demeanor unconcerned.
Away from sight, the monster clawed itself out into existence.
A muted flash of red light dared to pierce through the deep haze. Suddenly, there was a sound like the thrumming of a helicopter's rotary blades as all the fog was blown away.
In the center of what used to be the mist was this large, turtle-like thing with flippers like fan blades and six dark holes like gaping vents on his chest. He hovered in the air, his limbs a blur as they spun into motion, sending gusts of billowing winds that blew away all the creeping fog.
"Let's take this guy out for a spin—A Terraspin!" Terraspin slurred, his voice a low, croaky drawl.
The monster slunk back into the form of a woman, her dress in disarray and her hair frazzled as she was assailed by buffeting gales. She felt the soles of her feet leave the ground as she too was blown away by such pressurized winds.
As Terraspin was kicking up a hurricane, Hookwolf charged from where he was licking his wounds, his body made of swords was whole and hearty once more. He dug his hooks into Terraspin's shell, sharp metal clawing against the tough carapace.
Terraspin fell into the hard dirt as Hookwolf continued to blitz him with his razor-sharp blades, Terraspin retracting his limbs into his shell. There was a blast of treacherous winds that shot out of Terraspin's vents, but Hookwolf stabilized himself by sinking his hooks into the ground below.
And as Hookwolf continued to claw and tear and scrape at Terraspin, there was another flash of red light.
"AWOOOOO!"
A deafening howl ripped through the air and Hookwolf's body, his metallic bulk shattering into pieces of broken steel as sonic energy tore his blades and hooks asunder.
There was a big gray wolf, with large arms and a dark, shaggy mane. A large bushy tail swept away the small puff of dirt, revealing his long, deadly claws. His snout was split open into four different parts, connected by thin silver strands of drool. He had a pair of red wristbands and an equally red collar that housed the hourglass device.
"Blitzwolfer!" Blitzwolfer proclaimed, his snout snapping back to a more natural form.
"Hey Hookwolf, I heard you like dog fights," Blitzwolfer said, his body hunched over on all fours, his voice trembling with a low growl. Blitzwolfer grinned, his jaws full of fangs and sharp teeth. "Can I place all bets on myself?"
Hookwolf was on all fours, metal shifting and regenerating back into place. Instead of charging in recklessly, the metallic wolf stalked Blitzwolfer warily. The two circled each other, prowling carefully as they waited for an opening.
And then a blade jotted up from the ground, Blitzwolfer flinching away with a snarl. That was all Hookwolf needed as he bounded forward, leaving deep gashes into the street. Blitzwolfer brought his head up to face the wolf made of blades, and another sonic howl tore through his body.
This time, Blitzwolfer didn't remain idle. He doubled down on his assault, long claws ripping into Hookwolf's form, tearing apart his blades and hooks with each savage swipe. Hookwolf's body was strewn open, and Blitzwolfer sent another deafening howl that cleaved through the mass of metal to reach the fleshy human beneath.
But Hookwolf didn't relent against Blitzwolfer's blitz. His metal shifted and regenerated to defend the core of himself, the soft human underneath all the mass of blades and steel. They layered against one another, forming a defensive line that weathered through Blitzwolfer's sonic blasts.
And then a metal spike stabbed through the ground between the two, breaking Blitzwolfer's hold on Hookwolf. There was the sound of grinding steel as walls of swords were generated from the ground. Kaiser strutted in, even with his Empire in shambles, he held the confidence befitting of an emperor.
"Okay, no. Now, this simply won't do." Blitzwolfer commented even as Kaiser created more and more blades and rods of steel and metal, a wall that surrounded and trapped Blitzwofer in its iron bars.
"I'll just have to step it up a notch!" Blitzwolfer shouted, slapping the dial on his collar.
His body was swallowed by creeping red light that crawled up his form, engulfing him in its dazzling flash.
When the light receded, what was revealed was a much larger wolf than before, with darker skin and metallic spikes jotting out of his shoulders and elbows. His claws have been transmuted to a similar metal, and what once remained of his mangy mane was instead three tendrils of biting mouths. Their jaws split open, displaying their rows and rows of cavernous teeth. They glinted a metallic sheen beneath the sun's glistening rays. His once bushy tail was likewise replaced with a drooling mouth, with equally large and many teeth. The hourglass device on his collar had four metallic prong-like veins that dug into his skin.
"Ultimate Blitzwolfer!" He growled, his voice like angry thunder. And then he howled.
It was a deafening thing, something like the raging waves of the ocean current during the tempest storm. His howl was a sonic boom that blew through all the windows in the remaining block. It tore through Kaiser's walls of steel like they were thin sheets of wet paper.
Menja appeared, lumbering through the devastation. Her face was twisted in a mixture of both sorrow and anger.
"You killed my sister, you bitch!" She shouted, driving her spear down into Ultimate Blitzwolfer.
Menja did not expect Ultimate Blitzwolfer to catch her spear in his steel jaws. She certainly did not expect it when he bit through it like cardboard, or when he ran up the length of her polearm with grasping claws.
And when Ultimate Blitzwolfer reached the end of her spear's shaft and leaped into the air, each of his gaping mouths leveled at her face, he unleashed a pulse of sonic energy that fired his sharp teeth like shards of shrapnel. He shot a sonic buckshot that tore through half her face, tearing through flesh, bone, and brain matter. Her towering body soon crashed to the ground, blood pooling from her wound like a crimson tide.
Ultimate Blitzwolfer landed on the balls of his paws, the ground breaking into a spiderweb of cracks.
And as Hookwolf ambushed him, his mouth a blender full of spinning blades, the tendril that was Ultimate Blitzwolfer's tail split open into three sections like the petals of a blooming flower full of rows of sharp teeth.
He let loose another howl, sonic energy and metallic piercings shredded through Hookwolf's writhing steel. Half of his body was reduced to shattered blades.
It was only then that Ultimate Blitzwolfer turned around, his claws elongated into lengthy lances of hard metal. He plunged his deadly talons into the mass of twisting metal, feeling the soft flesh and warm liquid splash into his claws.
The mass of blades and hooks and needles shivered, before going absolutely still. A second passed, and they fell off uselessly, clanging down on the torn road. The facsimile of a wolf fell apart into broken pieces until only the man remained. His body was impaled on three long lances of cutting metal. Hookwolf opened and closed his mouth like a fish, gasping for air, or perhaps grasping for his final words. Instead, blood dribbled down his mouth, and his head slumped down bonelessly.
Ultimate Blitzwolfer tore his claws off of him viciously, spraying a shower of blood as brutal talons shredded through Hookwolf's body even further so that there was this large missing space held only by strands of muscle and flesh where his torso should be. His left arm was also torn apart with the slash, leaving behind a bleeding stump of broken bone.
Kaiser could only blink dumbly as he watched his Empire crumble around him. The Empire that he had built up from the ashes of All-Father, the Empire that lay so entrenched in the city, that had enough manpower and resources to contend with the likes of the PRT.
In truth, even Kaiser held doubts that they could beat him, but what else was he supposed to do? He couldn't run away, he spent too much time and too many resources securing the position of his Empire in the city. He wasn't sure if he could build it from the ground up in a different city, one that would already have its own gangs that would fight against any outsiders seeking to claim a piece of their pie.
And as Ultimate Blitzwolfer bared his teeth down on Rune's diminutive form, his growls sounding like gnashing steel, Kaiser couldn't help but think the scene looked similar to the Big Bad Wolf and Little Red Riding Hood. He pushed such useless thoughts away and raised a wall of compressed blades and twisting metal between the two. He wasn't surprised when big, long claws completely slashed both through his walls and through Rune herself, splitting the girl into two bleeding parts.
And then Ultimate Blitzwolfer turned his head towards him, his inhuman snout curling up into a monstrous grin.
Kaiser raised his arms up in a panic, feeling the familiar pull of his power. He erected a veritable fortress of barbed metal and tons of steel. It was a great wall of blades and sheets, with spears protruding from their surfaces.
It was useless as a howl rippled through the street, its ear-splitting roar shattering his walls into broken shards. The road was fractured into two, a shallow trench carved by sonic energies.
Kaiser didn't give up, generating more and more swords and spears from the ground to slash and pierce and kill the savage wolf. Ultimate Blitzwolfer's thick hide repelled each and every strike, his claw-like spears tore through whatever barrier Kaiser could conjure up.
And then he was before him, his form towering heads and shoulders above Kaiser, drool and slobber leaking out of his steel jaws.
"Checkmate." Ultimate Blitzwolfer said, claws lashing out to claim Kaiser's head.
And then multiple hard light blasts smashed into Ultimate Blitwolfer, sending him away from Kaiser's defeated form.
Hovering in the sky with the sun at their backs, their palms glowing with iridescent lights were Lady Photon and Laserdream. The rest of New Wave can be found nearby, with Glory Girl and Shielder hanging back in the air, and Brandish, Flashbang, and Manpower on the ground.
Ultimate Blitzwolfer regained his footing, crimson eyes observing each of the new arrivals.
"Ah, New Wave." He said though it came out as a snarl. "What a surprising turn of events, to find yourselves protecting the man who killed one of your own."
Each of them bristled at the taunt, but they didn't take the bait. It was Lady Photon who spoke first, from her lofty perch in the air.
"In the space of a single day, you did more damage to the city than the gangs could ever hope to achieve." She said, her tone tinged with the undercurrent of anger. "Your rampage ends here."
"Normally, I would warn you that going against me would be…" He shrugged, gesturing towards the blood and gore and corpses that caked the street. "A bad idea. But as I see I can't change your mind, I will simply ask you this; who exactly is going to stop me?"
"I believe that would be us." a new voice said, dripping with all the natural charisma a leader should have. Legend descended from the sky, his features set in stone as Alexandria and Eidolon flanked his shoulders.
It was as if that declaration served as the signal for the Protectorate forces to reveal themselves. Heroes and heroines in suits and armor, wielding powers weird and wild, great and strong. Justice beat in their hearts and adrenaline pumped in their veins.
"I suggest you surrender." Legend said, not unkindly.
o0O0o
Somewhere in America was a small town.
It was a town where everyone knew each other's names and faces, and it was a place with a very small parahuman presence.
What was strange about this place was that all the townspeople that would go about their day were nowhere to be found. The windows of homes and businesses were shattered into sparkling dust, and fires roared in the distance, followed by the mad cackling of demented laughter.
In this little town, there was a home that looked no different than no other.
Inside were this town's heroes. They were cut open, and strange technologies and machinery were stuffed into them by a petite blonde girl, her apron splattered with blood.
Jack slash leaned back into the recliner of this little house as the Nine went about their day. He has just been so terribly bored lately, with little else to do aside from their usual antics.
But he found himself in something of a creative slump, so he sat here in thought while he channel-surfed the television. Perhaps something in the news would spark his interest?
The city was on fire. Atop a mountain of rubble and ruin and spires of towering glass, was a large monster that could have been mistaken for an endbringer.
"I am Nemesis. Consider this my declaration of war. This city is now under my control. And as for the remaining gangs? I have a message for you. To the Empire, the Merchants… and the PRT."
The villain, Nemesis, paused for a moment. His voice rumbled like rolling thunder.
"You have until morning to vacate my city. If you don't?"
And then Nemesis brought up a dragon, its scales broken and bleeding. His thick digits sunk into its body and ripped it apart into two separate pieces. Blood and gore and silver scales rained down below.
"Well, you get the idea."
Jack Slash shut off the television with a muted click. His smile was as sharp as his knives.
o0O0o
Up in the sky above, just shy below the sea of stars, was an angel, wrapped in a cloak of her own wings as if to ward off horrors untold.
Unlike her siblings, she had the curse of sentience. The barest degree of "awareness of the self."
As such, this was the first time she had ever known fear.
The time drew ever closer, where all her timelines, her visions of the future seemingly cut off into blackness.
The Simurgh hated being in the dark.
And so, with this fear in her core, she changed her plan.
To eradicate the source of her fear.
Even with her sight in shambles, she managed to string together the possibilities into something resembling a plan.
If not for the fear that so gripped her core, she may have thought otherwise from pursuing this endeavor. But fear has led the greatest of men into committing the worst decisions.
The Simurgh, inhuman alien creature she may be, was not exempt from this reality.
[TRAJECTORY] The Simurgh sent.
[AGREEMENT] Behemoth and Leviathan replied.
And thus the pieces fall into place.