Interlude The Eighth
Half of the Undersiders were bunkered down and Brian's sister was squirreled away somewhere safe... Lisa didn't have the heart to tell Brian that he was deluding himself if he thought she was going to stay that way, however.
That left the other half, Tattletale and Grue, to do something that was probably incredibly stupid.
No cars in the driveway, but lights on in the upper floors. Perfect. Lisa knocked on the front door of the Dallon household.
Thirty seconds later, she knocked again, louder.
The door opened, Victoria Dallon in civilian clothes answered, and Lisa, who was in full costume, ducked Demolition Dallon's grab.
"Okay, odds are you're not gonna listen, but we both know that if I was here to hurt you the magic protections Princess put up for you would have fried my ass."
Despite what Lisa had suspected, that had made the hero pause. "Why are you here?"
Rather than say anything, Lisa pulled out her phone and played a recorded voicemail. Ironically, she'd missed the call while looking up alternative means of contacting the people on the other end.
"Hello," Opal's voice called out. She was calm, but there was a hint of urgency in her tone. "So, your last text came at the worst possible time and we've been captured. I don't know where we are because I was locked in a toolbox, it's filthy in here. I don't know what they're doing to my Princess, but it should be possible to trace my location and—"
Lisa cut the call. "Rescue mission."
Glory Girl's face shifted between several expressions. Fear, concern, shock, and finally confusion. "Why would she contact you? Wait, a text..." Dallon looked around the street and, seeing it was empty, questioned "...Lisa?"
Lisa had prepared for this possibility, but she was still kind of pissed off that Dallon had gotten it so quickly. "Damn it..."
Dallon's eyes shifted to Grue. "And that means that he's Brian, Taylor's boyfriend that she met because you introduced them, doesn't it?"
"No comment," Grue responded with an affected voice. Dallon rolled her eyes.
"Why come to me? Why not forward it to the PRT?"
"You and I both know that the PRT's policy is to leave people captured by the Nine," Lisa scoffed. "Too many people get killed in half-assed rescue missions. Unlike some people, however, I have a conscience." Lisa had checked in through a backdoor, the PRT was already calling in the Triumvirate in order to do battle with a hypothetical Bonesaw Zombie Princess. Bastards had already written her off.
"Yeah, right. I'm sure you feel really bad about that jewelry store you robbed last month," Dallon said in a voice dripping with sarcasm. "That's why Taylor wasn't taking your calls, she found out what a scumbag you are."
Lisa blinked. "Are you going to help me rescue our mutual best friend before she gets brainwashed into joining a band of murder-tramps or not?"
"...The term is murder-hobo," Dallon corrected.
"No, it's not. A hobo is someone who is homeless due to not being able to afford a home or being chased out of their home and who travels the country, supporting themselves with odd jobs and other legitimate means of gaining money in the short term, while looking for permanent work in the hopes of being able to eventually stop being homeless. A tramp is someone who is homeless by choice and does not support themselves by working. The Nine are tramps, not hobos. Now answer the damn question."
There was no further argument. No further discussion. Dallon told her sister she was going on a rescue mission, the other Dallon glared at the two villains without saying anything, and they left.
"So, wait, how are you tracking Opal?"
"Telepathy," Lisa fired off as a canned response. She wasn't going to explain that she knew how to trace where a call came from and ruin her mystique like that. As long as people thought she was psychic instead of just absurdly intelligent with a power that helps make connections, she had an ace in the hole.
"I'm taking college-level courses on parahuman science. It's physically impossible for a human brain to process that much information, let alone channel that kind of energy, to read minds," Dallon countered in what to Lisa's ears was clear know-it-allism.
"Do you know how many thinker powers confirmed to exist that argument applies to? Key facts about Parahuman powers are missing and instead of saying 'we don't know' they assume that the old models are true and assume that anything that contradicts pre-parahuman understanding of physics and biology is a unique outlier. The whole field is a crapload of pseudo-science and the only reason it doesn't get dismissed as such is that its so-called experts, few of whom are parahumans themselves, agree with the academic elite instead of proposing theories that could actually explain things but that might upset some stuffy old academic who hasn't done any actual research in thirty years but keeps insisting that his students put his name on their papers as a co-author or else he'll fail them."
"You can't help but do everything in your power to make yourself feel like the most intellectually superior person in the room, can you?"
At that moment, Grue surrounded himself in a bubble of darkness. Lisa's power told her so that it was so that he could take off his helmet, massage his temples, and give a long exasperated sigh without exposing his identity.
"Also," Lisa continued without acknowledging the actions of the nominal leader of her gang, "you actually know someone with actual, literal magic. You'd think you'd be more open-minded."
Dallon grunted but did not verbally acknowledge Lisa's point.
It was slightly out of the way of a direct Path to Opal's location, but Lisa's planned route took them right past Saito's repairs. Taylor was friendly with him, and her one meeting with the man told her that Saito had a raging hero complex that had been frustrated for the decade or so that Lung was running around just waiting to break out. And you can never know when an absurd number of Tinkertech Swords would come in handy.
Dallon looked questioningly at her as Lisa barged into the shop and loudly declared "Sword Guy, we're on a rescue mission. You want in?"
The man didn't even give a response. He just grabbed a bow and started locking up his shop. Lisa filled him in on the details as he did so and it was only then that she actually explained the rescue plan to everyone.
By some great stroke of fortune, the side door to the warehouse at the address Lisa had traced Opal's call to was unlocked. After taking thirty seconds to look over the door with her power, an eye out for anything that shouldn't be there, and concluding that it was not trapped, Lisa slowly and carefully pushed the door open.
Inside, there was a rattling sound, like something struggling against chains. At first, the thought of Manaquin running for the opened door flashed in Lisa's mind, but as her eyes adjusted, she could see a dancing toolbox chained to a workbench. That would be where Opal was.
Off on the far side of the room, Lisa could make out what appeared to be a large crate. And on the opposite side of the warehouse sat a massive mirrored cube of some sort, with a large machine sitting nearby. A large machine with visible dog brains, what appeared to be a human pancreas, and a massive bag of sugar next to it.
And sitting cross-legged towards the front of the empty building, her back to the door, was Bonesaw. The murderous Tinker was wearing headphones and starring intently at what Lisa best figured was a portable DVD player.
There was some fresh blood on the child's visible hand, but not a lot of it.
No sign of any other members of the Nine.
"These are the best odds we're gonna get," Lisa said quietly. "Taylor's probably in the mirrored cube, but I don't think she... Bonesaw's anticipating something, and Taylor's a target... Taylor's Bonesaw's target and whatever in the cube with her is some kind of test. It's trying to break her without killing her... But I'm not seeing a way to get her out of it without breaking the cube, and Taylor's gonna be hurt.
"Dallon," Lisa continued, "get her out of there and then get the hell out of here. Get her to a hospital or something... If Panacea's therapy has been going well she'll do but otherwise... The rest of us can probably handle Bonesaw when she inevitably hears us. Sword guy, Opal's in the chained-up toolbox, I'm sure you've got something that can cut her free... I don't know what's in that crate though. Grue, be ready to provide cover. On three..."
Lisa silently counted off on her fingers, and the odd troop snuck into the building. Dallon to the cube and Saito to the workbench. Grue stood vigil, and Lisa...
Lisa drew her pistol and leveled it at the back of Bonesaw's head. If she was wrong about what Bonesaw wanted with Taylor... It probably wouldn't do anything, but it would make Lisa feel slightly better.
And then, just everyone got into place, Bonesaw loudly declared "They're here! Mister Jack, you were right about the rescue coming." Then, and only then, did Lisa realize that there was no sound coming in through the child's headphones.
Lisa's blood ran cold as the crate at the far end of the warehouse exploded.
Crawler and Mannequin each came running out while Jack stood back in the shell of the crate smiling. Luckily, there was no sign of The Siberian or Burnscar, but that was a cold comfort indeed.
Lisa fired her pistol, the bullet impacting Bonesaw's skull but causing her to merely let out a shrill squeal while the spent bullet hit the floor.
Lisa then turned her gun against the other members of the nine, to find that none of them were susceptible to bullets.
Grue had tried to spread about darkness, only to be bowled over by Mannequin. He didn't seem particularly hurt and as Lisa turned, she noted that the mad Tinker was focusing on Saito... Well, Saito was a very nice man who wanted to help people, probably pissed Mannequin right off if the Tinker had found out about him.
Crawler roared as he ran past Lisa, targeting Dallon...
Lisa raised her gun as she noted Dallon pounding on Taylor's prison. Very slight cracks were forming, if Lisa could shoot one just right, she might be able to shatter it and Dallon could grab Taylor and run.
She felt a stabbing pain in her arm and miss-fired, her bullet hitting Dallon and bouncing off the girl's shield.
"Ah! Watch where you're shooting!"
"I'm terribly sorry I got stabbed in the fucking wrist!" Lisa shouted. Jack could have taken her hand off at the wrist if he'd wanted to... This was a game for them, the Slaughterhouse Nine wasn't going to kill them, not right away she realized as she noticed that Mannequin had produced a blade from one of his arms and was actively dueling Saito, who was wielding a solid black blade modeled on a Viking sword.
For Lisa, Dallon, Grue, and Saito... This was a desperate mission to rescue a friend. But for the Slaughterhouse Nine, who'd somehow predicted they'd be coming, this was literally just a fun little diversion.
Her suspicions were confirmed when Crawler stopped, shaking in a way that... He was actually trying to hold in laughter at her accidentally shooting Dallon.
Grue was on his feet again and he charged to engage with Jack.
Bonesaw, likewise, stood up and drew a scalpel. She looked at Lisa and smiled. "You know, shooting me in the back of the head was very rude. But... You're Tattletale, right? The psychic? It might be neat to look at your brain, debunk that garbage about telepathy being impossible."
Crawler roared again, and in the corner of her eye, Lisa could see the monster tackle Dallon.
She still had bullets in her gun, Lisa thought to herself. She could deny Bonesaw her fun, deny the Nine a kill... Her hand shook, her mind flashed back to the last time she saw her brother and felt disgusted with herself for the thought.
She cursed the PRT for daring to have a point about rescuing people from the Nine.
Suddenly, Taylor's voice cried out in desperation: "I wish someone would save them!"
And then... Things got weird.
A bright light began emanating from the box she was trapped in, leaking out through cracks and hidden seams before a massive beam erupted from the top and into the ceiling... without projecting onto the ceiling. As if it was phasing through matter.
All the fighting stopped. Everyone's attention was focused on the light.
At the workbench where Opal still struggled to free herself from her improvised cage, seven cards began to levitate and rushed through the air before beginning to circle around Taylor's prison. Spinning rapidly, fast enough that Lisa could not tell where one card ended and the other began.
A few feet in front of the box, a magic circle in glowing blue lines appeared on the floor, and from it faded into existence a...
Writhing darkness emitting some kind of white noise. And within it, obscured from Lisa's vision, a humanoid figure.
With silent footsteps, the figure walked to the box and, somehow, forced it open. Lisa could not see what was inside, but even with the white noise from the mass of darkness that appeared with the figure, Lisa could hear the short conversation.
"You? Are you my master?" The newcomer said in a tired voice. A weary voice carrying the weight of a lot of pain forced into a short life, with the white noise her field of darkness generated echoing her every word.
It was Taylor's voice. The voice of an older, more cynical Taylor, and Lisa couldn't help but be instinctively horrified as she tried to figure out what could make Taylor like... That.
"Save them, please," Lisa's Taylor croaked out weakly.
The cloud of darkness... No, the cloud of bugs. Countless insects with carapaces as black as night parted and Lisa got a better look at the being as she turned to look at the other occupants of the room. She had Taylor's figure, scaled up some. Taller, very slightly more filled out, in a body-hugging outfit of silk and armor, mismatched black and white. Except for her arm, Lisa realized. One of the figure's arms was like a giant, complicated doll's arm, with ball joints at every moving part, made of heavy-duty black plastic.
"With pleasure," the figure said as she slowly stepped forward.
"By victory and the power of the Holy Grail I am summoned," Older Taylor said. "For vengeance and justice, I am summoned. And, really, I'm gonna enjoy this... Some payback of my own won't soothe Berserker's madness, but it'll feel real good."
"...Berserkers are the homicidally insane ones, right?" Dallon said, sounding more frightened of Berserker's introduction than the monster she'd been wrestling with a few moments before.
"Kill it," Jack said sounding, no that was impossible. Jack sounded genuinely frightened. He was even starting to turn pale. "Kill it now."
All members of the Nine present turned their focus to Berserker, who simply chuckled bitterly. "Not what you said last time we met, Jack..." She took in the carnival of killers around her. "Eh, I can take you," she said in an exaggerated mockery of Jack's speech patterns.
Berserker stepped forward again, and spoke, her voice echoing.
"I have given up everything.
I have turned from my friends.
I have forsaken happiness.
To ensure the world's future.
I suffer in silence.
Finally, everyone's working together.
On the road to the Golden Dawn.
I've sacrificed all that I am.
There's no going back.
I am Khepri."
The swarm of bugs exploded outward, and then all was darkness.