Armsmaster entered his workshop on the Rig, locking the door behind him.
Calling it a workshop was a slight understatement, even though it also doubled as the hero's sleeping area and office. The only reason that it 'counted' as an office, however, was because while Armsmaster had filled the walls to the brim with shelves and racks, both hidden and not, there was a set of file cabinets tucked to the side of his main workbench.
Two suit racks stood at one side of the room, the one sitting in the space that Armsmaster currently wasn't wearing having minor functional differences. A spare Halberd was placed on a rack behind Armsmaster's desk. One of the spaces on the rack was empty and Armsmaster took his weapon of choice off his back to slot it into said space.
Walking over to the empty mannequin, Armsmaster began to take his armor off, starting with his helmet, lifting it off after disconnecting it from the connecting neck brace.
For a moment, Colin looked at his helm, tracing the armor with his fingers, from the angled v of the visor, to the thin lines that separated the different parts of the helmet. Colin was able to see himself in the visor, a reflection of his eyes and face.
Then he threw it across the room with a roar.
It hit the far wall with a clang and crunch, and a distant part of his mind told him that it had been damaged, but the part running the show at the moment didn't care.
Both mannequins weren't spared from Colin's wrath, throwing them to the ground with angry shoves. The empty one broke at one of the arms; the spare suit managed to land undamaged, but it wasn't spared any further. He used his strength to lift the whole thing up by the stand and one of its arms and it followed his helmet across the room.
It rammed into his workbench, knocking tools, notes, and gear to the floor. For several moments Colin stood in the wreckage, shaking, while he breathed heavily.
The feeling of exhaustion hit Colin just as suddenly as his rage, and with shaky legs, he managed to get to his workbenches chair, before collapsing into it.
With a stuttering breath, Colin ran his hands over his face, feeling his beard and short-cropped hair. Clutching his face in his hands, he leaned forward until his arms were resting on his legs, and breathed deeply.
It could see it, all the years of work, all of what he'd sacrificed, all of what he'd given to the PRT, gone.
And all it took were some heated words and a single decision.
What had overtaken him, to confront the leader of the Protectorate, fucking Alexandra, like that? To just… throw away everything over a single girl's feelings?
… he knew why. The image of Taylors face just after she used her power to punch a hole through a layer of solid steel and concrete came to mind.
Things had made sense once, before Winslow, before Taylor.
Years of Tinkering, of fighting the war on the side of law and order, of stepping up to the plate for anything that the Protectorate asked of him, of going from strike teams to supporting a team, to leading one.
Building his gear, designing his suit, and later his Halberd, improving upon it, redesigning it, improving himself, organizing the ENE Protectorate, training the team, the Wards, stepping up to battle the crime of Brockton Bay…
Colin sighed heavily and leaned back, casting his gaze to the ceiling, and let the events of earlier in the day wash over him.
"Taylor!"
"Assault wait!" cried Armsmaster. "She's gone! Leave her be and help me with Alexandria!"
The red-suited hero hesitated for a moment, gaze still at where Taylor had vanished down the street, little wisps of blue fire fading away down the street.
'That was new,' reflected Armsmaster. 'Because of her emotional state? She hadn't been trailing fire in the warehouse…'
"… Right." Assault hopped/leap over to Armsmaster. "What do you need Boss?"
"Grab her leg."
"…I'm guessing you have a plan here? Please tell me you have a plan." Assault's voice was desperate as he moved towards the time-frozen Alexandria, and a more than a little panicky, but that was understandable to Armsmaster.
"Because my power doesn't work when I'm in the- oof."
It was a clumsy catch, but Assault managed to hold onto Armsmaster's Halberd, the one he was using he had ran back for and left Assault to face Alexandria alone.
"Stand on it!" Armsmaster demanded. "If you can take on Hookwolf while laughing in his face as he tries to kill you, you can manage a balancing act!"
"Oh! So you are pissed about that!" Assault declared as he implied the weapon into the ground. "I was worried that Piggot had done something to you since you didn't chew me out over – Hey! I'm doing this!"
"Having something to hold onto likely helps," said Armsmaster dryly.
It was a strange sight to see, Assault somehow standing atop the staff of Armsmaster's Halberd, both of his arms reached out to hold onto the frozen Alexandria's legs. Were it not for Assault's power, Armsmaster doubted that he would have managed.
'Course, Assaults power was to manipulate kinetic energy, not remove or ignore it…
"… you will never speak of this."
Armsmaster nodded. "I'll be as vague as possible in the report."
Assault shot Armsmaster a look; redirecting the energy from would normally be causing him to slip and fall off into his hands, forcing him to stroke Alexandria's leg like it was a cat.
"… it's moments like this that you really appreciate the fucking powers bullshit, right?"
"Yes. Now, on three, I'm going to cut the power."
"And you want me to slam Alexandria into the ground when she tries to fly off?" guessed Assault.
"Not my best plan," Armsmaster conceded. "But given her reaction times and her actions, it's the best one I have at the moment."
Assault sighed deeply.
"… Alright then, hit it."
"One…t-"
"You better not tell Battery about this Armsmaster!-"
"-wo…-"
"Or so help me god!-"
"Three!"
There was the sound of rolling thunder as Alexandria reacted in the seconds after the time-stop effect ended. Armsmaster lost his grip on his weapon as it was snapped away, while Assault found himself suddenly in a crater in the asphalt.
Armsmaster was quick to speak, even as the formerly frozen hero shot into the air.
"Alexandria! Stand down!"
The hero in question spun in place for a moment, seemingly ignoring Armsmaster, before she paused, and floated back down to hover nearby.
"… I am hoping that Taylor either left of her own accord and was not taken by someone else?" she asks, her tone like stone.
"What were you thinking!?" Armsmaster demanded. "Your actions just now were entirely uncalled for!"
Alexandria stared at Armsmaster for a few moments, her face unreadable.
"… my actions might be considered… extreme, and I can see that… but I stand by what I said earlier, and will point out that I have data you lack."
"This does not give you the right to ignore established protocols! And yes! I do know about Article 17d! And as the leader of the local Protectorate team, I am overruling it pending a secondary investigation via Article 37c!"
"Don't mind me, just pulling myself out of a hole here," muttered Assault in the background.
"Be careful Armsmaster, don't forget that I am the leader of the Protectorate," stated Alexandria. "I helped write the Articles for the Protectorate. Your call to use Article 37c can be overruled by either Legend or Eidolon, both of whom not only know the things I do, but will back up decision my because of it."
"I am well aware of the power both of us have, as well as our limits of that power," countered Armsmaster. "Just as I am aware that I can invoke Article 8e, something that will be fast-tracked not only because of my experience and the fact we've worked together many times, but also because I have cameras in my helmet."
Alexandria took in a breath…
Then floated down to the ground, coming to a stop to stand in front of Armsmaster, arms set at ease.
"… There is more happening in the wider world outside Brockton Bay Armsmaster," explains Alexandria.
A rapidly raised hand forestalls Armsmaster. "No, let me finish."
The Tinker visibility pulls himself back, pursing his lips, and nods at the female hero, letting her continue.
"… the Clans are untouchable," Alexandria states after a few seconds. "And even after all of these years, are a massive blank spot for the intelligence agencies of the world. What little we know paints them as some of the most powerful capes in the world, yet they never show up at Endbringer fights, answer to no one, and have access to tech advanced and powerful enough to take on the Blasphemies and clean up an oil spill that covers hundreds of nautical miles."
"Furthermore, I have personally fought them on several occasions, I have seen them without their suits, and Taylor Hebert's power matched what they could do, precisely. So, before you do something that will have consequences for us both, I suggest you think long and hard about what you want to do."
Armsmaster was still for a time, clearly thinking about Alexandria's words.
"… I've always seen myself as a soldier," admitted Armsmaster "Standing for order against chaos, fighting for mankind against the likes of Slaughterhouse Nine and the Endbringers. It's a war on a dozen fronts, with those that slink in the shadows always ready to cut us down if we dropped our guard."
"But yet I've always seen myself as a hero, one that would uphold the laws of the world, to protect and serve, standing on that thin line that separates them from us, but never crossing it."
"And based upon what I've seen today, you've crossed that line today Alexandria, and I for one and deeply concerned with your actions today."
"Sometimes our job calls for ugly choices to be made," snaps Alexandria. "I've hated this job sometimes, how it falls upon me to pick and choose how things go down, knowing that there will be people that will act as if they know better, could have done better than me. Yet I never waver, never made plans to walk away from it all. I stand by my actions and decisions, including these ones, no matter what you think of them!"
"I believe the quote that works for you here is this, 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions," declares Armsmaster, standing tall. "For while I understand your reasoning, I don't believe you acted the part of a hero today. And another's words would likely do better to hammer that point home."
"… We choose to serve in this position, to put our lives on the line for others, not because it is are easy, but because it is hard. Because this goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and because this fight it one we intend to win, as well as the others. President Kennedy said this about the moon landing, and while I paraphrased, and I believe his words fit with what we are trying to achieve; to take the steps forward in these strange and new times, to protect others that need it, to be a shining beacon for all others like us…"
Alexandria rushed forward, and it was likely only due to her skill with her power that she didn't plow Armsmaster down and slam him into the warehouse wall.
"Don't you dare use his words against me!"
There was silence in the street, broken only by the groaning of metal.
Armsmaster looked down at his chest, where Alexandria had dented the metal with her hand, then slowly back up at the female hero.
Alexandria did the same. They locked eyes for several moments, neither yielding for a second.
"… I think it's best for you to go now Alexandria."
"Yah think?!"
Both heroes turned their heads to look at Assault, who shuffled sheepishly and backed off with a limp, his hands out in front of him.
"Right, walking away…"
The stare done resumed for several moments, before…
Armsmaster grunted as Alexandria removed her hand from his chest, the metal flexing as she did so.
The leader of the Protectorate sighed deeply, visibly settling herself.
"… perhaps I should leave, it is clear that… well, I am not fully myself at the moment."
"And I bet you're not going to explain why?" snarked Assault.
Alexandria glowered at the man.
"Of all people here, I would have thought that it would be you that understood about keeping secrets."
Assault shrugged. "My past isn't much of a secret, not to me at least. The PRT and you guys keep making a big deal out of it though."
Alexandria's face was like stone, unmoving, as she seemingly realized she found no ground with the other two heroes.
"… I believe I will take my leave then," she states, floating upwards. "And when the time comes that this situation comes to a head, then I hope that the damage caused by it isn't too severe. Armsmaster, Assault."
"Ma'am!"
Alexandria paused, glancing back down at Armsmaster.
"I am formally informing you that your actions here today are unbecoming of your position, and I will be providing my camera footage involving the events of today to Director Piggot, Regional Coordinator Smith, as well as the Chief Director in order to open an investigation into your conduct."
The two heroes stared down at each other, one hovering still, the other tensed up, ready for anything.
"I understand… I look forward to seeing that report as well, Armsmaster."
With a muffled boom, Alexandria left, launching her way up into the sky.
Assault glanced over at Armsmaster.
"Do you have a death wish or something?" he demanded. "Quoting Argonaut? I know you don't put much stock in rumors, but come on! You've worked with most of the Sliver Seven at one point! Right?! You had to have seen and heard something about them!"
Armsmaster ignored the other hero and got moving, scooping up his Halberds as he dished out orders.
"Watch over the gear inside until the PRT recovery van swings by, I'm going to find Taylor and hope that Alexandria really did leave."
"Should I be the one that finds her?" asks Assault as he follows Armsmaster towards his Jeep. "I mean, I'm faster and can look around easier as I move."
Armsmaster shook his head, opening the rear door and tossing his equipment in. "No, you're injured. Furthermore, this is my responsibility, and I don't want to scare her by having you show up instead of me. We have something of a rapport."
"You have a rapport with someone? That doesn't seem like you."
Armsmaster paused as he got into his vehicle, before slamming the door shut.
"… well, it seems like we're both learning something new today."
What had possessed him to bring up Argonaut? It was something of an open secret that they had been close, with nothing being confirmed, but anyone that had known them could tell that there had been something there.
What had overtaken him to act that way!?
His words and actions had been correct in the grand scheme of things, but it didn't change the underlining fact he had threatened the woman that was effectively his boss.
If any part of this went badly….
Colin let another sigh out, thinking over things as best as he could.
Everything had seemed so simple all those weeks ago, but then Winslow had happened, and Colin had wanted -needed, to know what had really happened there.
So he launched his own investigation, one separate from the PRTJ and the Youth Guard.
Hess was a Ward, after all, someone he was reasonable for training and guiding down the path to being a productive member of cape society. Her actions were a black mark upon his record, upon the ENE Protectorate and PRTs record, and she needed to be held accountable for them, just as he needed to know how she had managed what she did so he could find a way to stop it from happening again.
He discovered that part of the events surrounding Winslow were out of the control of the handlers and the PRT; Hess had been undergoing her campaign against Taylor long before she had been pressed into the Wards, but even considering her 'good behavior' as an attempt to lay low for a while, something should have stood out during the time they were keeping an eye on her.
Looking deeper, Colin himself discovered he himself was somewhat responsible for what happened at Winslow; as the teacher and manager of the Wards he should have caught on to what Hess was doing, he should have listened to Aegis and Triumph, hell, even Assault had spoken to him about Sophia, but he had dismissed them, as he had done the paperwork and passed things off to the right people regarding what he'd seen from her so far and left it at that.
Yet, it was his own inaction that bought everything that happened about, his failings as a hero and a leader.
That had been a tough pill to swallow, and a difficult one to track down.
At first, as far as Colin had been able to tell, it was all bad luck; bad luck that Taylor was being bullied, bad luck that it happened to be from a Ward, bad luck that said Ward had already ruined Taylors credibility and was taking advantage of a decaying and overworked school system combined with the PRTs near-desperate need for more capes, even ones with spotty records.
Colin hadn't believed that. Maybe it was the state he found Taylor in, maybe it because Hess was under his command.
Or maybe it was the words of his Double, but Colin had dug deeper, trying to figure out what had happened. So he looked deeper.
And found it circled back to him.
He was the one that ignored rising issues and complaints from the rest of the Wards, setting up team-building exercises that did little to address the real problems. He was the one that took note of Sophia's background and personality traits and then did little correct them outside reports and discipline according to protocol.
All the while Colin directed his energy towards his own training and Tinkerings, making plans for patrols and how to take down threats both in the city and without.
The most sobering thing about this fact was that it was Ethen of all people that provided the answer that he was looking for, as upon asking him (during an attempt to see if it was his underlying personality traits, or a simple error in judgment), Ethan's rather blunt examination of Colin's character striping him down to a handful of words.
Harsh.
Obsessive.
Prideful.
Compensating.
Anti-social.
Conceited.
Ethen and Colin nearly came to blows over that last one, with Linda having to get between them.
But the words had forced Colin to look into his own actions, and why Ethen had picked them.
Colin knew that most people mesh with him, or that he didn't mesh with them. He understood that they didn't fit into the boxes that he assigned them or the world into, that people were flexible and unpredictable, that not everyone was as focused as he was.
Yet there was a fundamental difference between acknowledging that people had different thoughts, patterns, and ideas, and comprehending that fact.
What had started as a simple investigation into the actions of one bully, had turned into the uncomfortable examination of something that Colin had always had taken for granted.
Was he a good hero?
The word was a nebulous concept at best, as it was used for all sorts of people in all kinds of fields and actions. But while Colin as Armsmaster had fit the bill for one of the more 'traditional' usages of the word, he had realized that he might fit the more expanded understanding of it.
Specifically, while he was a hero, did that make him a good person?
This led to Colin saying several things not appropriate for public speaking to Ethan, and Ethan nearly using his power to punch him in the face.
Yet somehow, despite the words that they had hurled at each other, including several insinuations that Colin had made about Ethan and Linda's relationship (both in the personal and professional side), Ethan later showed up at his workshop and dragged him out into the world for a cup of coffee.
What Colin had expected to be an apology, turned into a surprisingly interesting conversation about people, one that Colin looked back and found himself enjoying.
Ethan was rather astute, easily able to figure people out, and break them down.
The fact that he was able to deuce Hannah's potential Trigger, as well as his own, just by having watched them over the years was distributing.
He also explained why he picked the words that he did, knowing that it would get a reaction as well as make him think about them.
What followed was a breakdown of not only Colin but the rest of the team, including even Piggot, Rennick, and the Wards.
It had been an… interesting conversation, one that had been both informative and helped bridge the newfound gap between the two men as Ethan had ended up getting him drawn into a conversation about ideas, concepts, and morality.
(Colin was struck with the need to take another look at Ethan's background because the man he had talked to at that café was seemly a different person than the one he had known for years. Even if it was limited scope, how did he know so much about psychology anyway?)
It hadn't smoothed things over between them, but Colin no longer felt the need to defend himself against Ethan anymore and was able to head back to the Rig with him.
'Though Colin had still wanted that apology.
(Ethan countered with the fact they were men, they didn't do the sappy stuff. Colin countered with the idea of gender roles and expectations around them being foolish. Ethan had laughed and conceded the point, providing the wanted apology.
Then he went on to point out that he wasn't the only one affected by that fight, and his words might have been directed at Ethan, but there was collateral.
Somehow, having to talk to Linda about his actions and conduct was by far one of the hardest things he had done in his adult life)
None of this, however, changed the fact that Colin had discovered he had been failing in his wider duties as a hero.
While he doubted that he could match what someone like Legend had done in his life, there was a reason that people liked Mouse Protector; despite her younger age, lesser skills, and lesser achievements, she was a 'favorite' among fans and capes alike for several reasons.
And while Armsmaster had earned his share of acknowledgments and achievements, recent events had shifted his perspective on matters.
Which in turn lead to this, him sitting in his lab, after telling off one of the most powerful and influential capes in the world.
…
There was a beeping, insistent, and clearly present.
Colin knew that beeping and part of him didn't want to answer.
The beeping stopped.
…
…
… then there was a ping of a new message.
Then another a minute later.
And another.
Colin inhaled and looked up, his tired eyes finding his computer monitor.
Stretching out his arm, he keyed up the only person that would connect him like this.
"… hello Dragon."
Most of the time Dragon used an avatar when communicating, little more than her iconic symbol on the screen, but there were sometimes that she showed her face.
This was one of those times.
"Hi Colin…I've seen the report you've sent to Piggot, and… are you ok?"
Colin drew in another deep breath.
"… did you ever have a moment where you look back and realize… you have no idea how you got where you are?"
"… more than once, so I know what you're going through (more or less)… I've… I've seen the footage, and Piggot called me in to check it over to make sure that it hadn't been doctored in any way… and you still haven't answered my question, Colin."
Colin ran a hand through his short-cropped hair and glanced around at his lab.
His wrecked lab he notes absently.
"This isn't my worst day… but it definitely makes the list."
"Ah…"
For several moments, the pair wallowed in silence, knowing it needed to be broken, but not quite knowing how to.
Until…
"Do you think I am a good man Dragon?"
If the question caught the female Tinker off guard, she didn't show it.
"Of course, Colin."
"As in, do you think I am a good person?" Colin pressed.
"That's relative. I know that you aren't a bad person Colin, but the people you arrest and put behind bars might have a different view of things."
"That's not what I mean and you know it."
"Then what do you mean?"
Colin sighed once more, glancing around as Dragon gave him time to think. She was good at that Colin reflected, understanding, even to someone like himself.
"… Being Armsmaster," began Colin. "Fighting the war against crime and villains… it's what I'm good at. Colin Wallis doesn't even exist beyond a PO Box, a plot of land up north, and within vital government documents."
"And yet I've realized that, while my actions are good, that doesn't mean my intent behind them are. I've tossed aside many things in pursuit of my career, stepped atop backs and toes, to say nothing of the pinpoint focus I've given to my job, and yet… I never felt like it was enough, that I wasn't getting what I should be for everything I had done, that I needed to push further and harder to reach that point where it would be enough, where I would get the recognition I deserved."
"And the way that that sounds when I say it out loud…"
"It's normal for people to want recognition for their achievements Colin," said Dragon softly. "That isn't a bad thing, you're just… a bit more focused on it than other people."
"In other words, a glory hound. I do check up upon PHO from time to time Dragon, I know what some people say about me."
"And you also know not to listen to everything that gets posted on the internet," chastises Dragon, abandoning her soft tones. "You're smarter than that, and trust me, no one is perfect, and no one can be, I know better than most about that."
The room was silent for a time, both Tinkers lost int their thoughts. Then Dragon sighed, a drawn-out sound.
"Colin, you can't beat yourself up over mistakes, they happen and you learn from them. Are you the same person from your teenage years? From childhood? Didn't they make mistakes and you learned and grew from?"
Colin leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, lost in thoughts of years long past. Of working from a garage, to alongside other Tinkers, to his own workroom, traveling the breadth of the United States, to earning the position of team leader.
There had been bumps, some worse than others, but each time he had worked around them, worked through them, becoming better along the way.
Why should now be any different?
"… You're right, in the beginning of my career I made mistakes, and I learned from them. I pushed myself to be better from them, checked over what happened to stop it from happening again."
Colin straightened his back and took in a breath as he continued. "It was that very reason that I excelled, getting promoted so rapidly, earning a place on one of Alexandria's strike teams, and later, this position."
Then Colin became silence, lost in thought. Dragon waited for him to gather his thoughts, she had the time for a friend.
"…You make mistakes, mistakes don't make you."
"Maxwell Maltz."
Colin smiled at Dragon's words. "Correct."
Then the man sighed, glancing around his lab.
"I'm sorry… I don't know what came over me, this was… unlike me."
"No, it's understandable given everything that's happened," Dragon said in a comforting tone. "Winslow, Taylor, and now this whole mess with Alexandria. Add this to your… recent introspection from those events, and anyone would be taken off-balance. If fact if you weren't, I would have been ever more concerned,"
"Thank you all the same Dragon, I… I think I needed this, to be reminded that I am human, that the world doesn't go according to my plans… To be told that, despite my, problems and drive, I am really no different than anyone else… good or bad."
"I'm pretty sure you're more on the good end of the scale," Dragon teases. "Just a thought"
"Weren't you the one that just talked about that kind of thing being relative?"
"Honesty Colin," Dragon sighs. "You know me. If I didn't think you were a good person, would I still be here talking to you?"
Colin took a moment to process that, before smiling softly and huffing.
"… well, part of me hoped that it also because you are attracted to me."
Dragon was many things, and Colin had seen several sides of her that he doubted many in the world had.
This was the first time he'd seen her be flabbergasted and blush, however.
It was enough to make him crack a real smile.
Some things were always better in hindsight, and he had Ethan to thank for point this one out to him.
"How did you- I mean, Colin, I can- no, what I mean to say is…"
"You are one of, if not the best, Tinkers in the world," Colin explained calmly. "You also check up on me at least once a week, and have pried me away from more than one project to watch movies or the newest shows, and it was recently pointed out to me that I am a man, and you… well, are a woman, one that spends a large amount of time and effort to keep in touch with me, someone that has been noted to be… difficult to work with, at times."
"Though I will say that your reaction is something of a relief as this was largely conjecture until now."
"As… as much as I want to talk about this, and I really do, this isn't really the best time for it Colin." Dragons voice was pained, as if she hated to be saying those words, but still wasn't taking them back.
"No, I don't suppose it is," said Colin softly.
"Yes, I mean, no, it's…" Dragon took a breath.
"There will a better time to talk about this, when we both can sit down and… discuss, some things, things you need to know… things I need to tell you. But not now, later, maybe after this investigation has gotten traction?"
"Yes," Colin takes a deep breath and sits up straighter, looking around at his lab. "Let's do that. What's your thoughts on my report?"
Dragon easily accepted the change of subject, pulling up the relevant file on the Colins screen.
"Well, for one, you handled it nicely, and you are in the right. Alexandria was out of line, no matter what her reasons."
Colin hummed as he moved about his lab, picking things up to check them for damage. "While I'm not particularly close to her, I have worked alongside Alexandria before, served under her, and was on several short-lived teams with her, her actions today do not fit my memories of her…"
Pausing, lost in thought for a moment, Colin thinks back through both years and the events of the day.
"… What do you have on the Clans Dragon?"
After several seconds of silence, Colin glances over at the Tinker's image.
"Dragon?"
"Sorry! Just…" Dragon hesitated, visibly torn about something.
"… A few years back, I was tasked with finding out more about the Clans, to see if they could be tracked down or countered, and while I was told to keep it all a secret to maintain InfoSec… I was also told to use whatever assets I had at my disposal."
"And a fellow Tinker who can be vouched for, understands the necessity of keeping secrets, and works well with you?" Colin asks.
"Would be a powerful asset, someone I trust could offer a different perspective on things."
Colin smiled. Dragon had a bit of a compulsion regarding rules and regulations, so seeing her rebel against them like this was refreshing.
Colin set aside some of his equipment and headed back to his workbench.
"Very well then, care to bring me up to speed?"
"… I'm afraid it's not quite that simple. What I've found about the Clans… Alexandria has more than enough right to be afraid of them."
"You know why Alexandria acted the way she did then?" asks Colin.
In response, the screen flickers as Dragon overlaid her image with a video screen.
"New Mexico, 2007. A group of runners for the Cartels crossing the border was intercepted by Spector after they were engaged by border patrol, they had a set of low-level capes and used fully automatic weapons. They were identified as Los Gamas, roughly translated into The Ranges, largely named for their work in crossing the border over the mountains, despite that they operated more like mercenaries than anything, taking a number of jobs in the US/Mexico area."
"Made of a mix of both Mexicans and Americans, they fearlessly would engage in gunfights on both sides of the border, only this time they ran afoul of something a bit stronger than the border patrol and their capes."
The video was spotty at best, a bad matchup of bodycam footage and cheap cameras, even with Dragon no doubt improving it as best as she could. But it showed him what he needed to see.
"No sound?"
"What there is, is useless, I've tried."
Colin hummed as he forced, eyeing the events as they played out.
Several border patrol agents hunkered down in the dying light of the day, firing into the nearby hills at unknowns, who were firing back with aplomb.
"This seems somewhat excessive for a drug run," remarked Colin. "I see at least thirty or so muzzle flashes."
"They were moving nearly three million US dollars in drugs, using mules and coyotes to move them in a large group via a level four Shaker/Stranger to mask their presence, a standard tactic for them, and why they were so good at it."
"Ah."
Colin settled down to watch the video, noting the few powers that were being flung around (at least three Blasters, maybe six if they weren't ranged Shaker powers), the rushed and desperate calls for backup from the agents, the way the Los Gamas controlled their fire to keep the agents at a distance while trying to disengage over the hi-
The whole battlefield shifted when Spector literally dropped out of the sky, landing in the mess of the Mexican runners. Nearly a dozen of them died by precise gunfire before they shifted their fire upon the cape.
Their rounds however failed to do any meaningful damage, as Spector just mowed through them, blade flashing in the dying light as she danced through the shrubs and hills, laying waste to everything that stood in front of her with either blade or gun.
"Alexandria was in White Sands when this was happening," explained Dragon. "I don't know how she learned of this, but her reaction time…"
Spector was wrapping up the last of the runners when it happened. A blur, a shockwave, and then Alexandria was plowing Spector into the dirt, kicking up a trailing dust cloud as she went.
Colin winced. "Even for Brute rated capes, this seems… excessive."
"Wait for it…"
Even with the back footage, Colin could still clearly see Alexandria pinning Spector tom the ground, the other cape point-blank shooting her in the face with a sidearm.
Naturally, Alexandria was unphased, calmly breaking Spector's wrist.
The cape struggled for a moment, body flaring for a moment, a second Spector erupting from her body to fly through Alexandria.
And when the Spector Alexandria was holding vanished, she turned around and once more plowed Spector behind her out of the air and into the ground.
"Pay attention now."
Colin focused, watching as Alexandria lifted the struggling Spector up, her grip causing some sort of shield to flare on the cap-
Colin blinked.
"… can you pay that back for me?"
The video stuttered, shifting back to the moment that Spector stiffened-
And the moment a flare of swirling blue-white light flashed into existence behind Alexandria, who jerked and staggered.
Then a ripple of light, one that the camera barely caught, as Spector suddenly shifted positions to standing dozens of feet behind Alexandria.
A still image of when the hero staggered popped up, as well as one in the moments before Spector shifted.
"You see it too, right?"
Colin did. There was a figure, half there in the swirling light, holding Spectors sword that had been jabbed backwards into Alexandria. One arm was covered in blue armor, which trailed into a vanished chest, their head covered by a triangle-shaped sand-colored helm.
"How bad was she hurt? And why wasn't anyone notified?" Colin demanded.
"Alexandria bolted after this, her lung had been pierced and was filling with blood, and she didn't want to get hit by this."
Another image popped up, this time of the mysterious figure running across the dirt, sword in hand-
And a familiar beam of light blasting out the other, a beam that Alexandria avoided before abruptly vanishing from the fight. The video ended after that.
"The PRT kept everything quiet to avoid another Case One."
The Siberian, the first time that Alexandria was hurt, one of two that he knew about; three now.
"Based upon the footage," Dragon continued, bring up several images, both of the fight Colin had just seen, as of the events back at Taylors testing. "Then by all limited accounts, at least without a more detailed examination of both parties, Taylor has the same power as the members of the Clan."
"How do they all have the same powers?" Colin asked. "I've never heard of any capes sharing the same powers, similar powers yes, but not the same. Unless this team has someone that gives them powers. And what of the suit? I see that it freezes up when cape leaves it, but it teleports back on top of them in a moment's notice, is it Tinker-Tech or part of their powers?"
"… What do you know of the Clans?" Dragon asks.
"Not much," admitted Colin. "I know they have astounding Tinker-Tech, have no problems killing, and seemingly have their own agenda given what I've heard, why?"
"Are you familiar with any of their members?"
"One or two, if only because of what they've done."
"Like Paladin?"
An image of the cape in question popped up, showing them standing atop a Russian fire truck, their horned helm resembling an antelope, while the sash on their hip fluttered in the wind.
"Chernobyl, 1986," Colin recited. "Paladin used their powers to render local radiation a non-factor, even going as far as to put out the reactor fire themselves. The predicted number of deaths from the explosion and clean up was astoundingly low due to their assistance, though it wasn't until Tāwhirimātea passed over that the whole area was no longer considered an exclusion zone."
"One of the more iconic appearances of the Clans," Dragon confirms. "Another was during the Siege of San Diego in '01, where they showed up and held the line at the PRT HQ and at nearby hospitals against the Mexican Cartels that were laying waste to the city."
"The ice forming cape, with his glowing helm," Colin recalls. "He froze sections of road leading around the city with large ice bubbles, limiting movement and controlling the flow of the battle for a time, until Conscript started putting holes into people."
"… You know, I don't think I ever asked you about Conscript, now that you work with them that is."
Colin grunted, casing his mind back onto the soldier-themed cape.
"I get along largely fine with them, there had been a few issues, but far less than what I have dealt with other members of my own team… though I do realize now that I might need run some things past you about them," Colin admitted slowly. "Looking back, I realize that I might have not been fair to them given their understandable actions in San Diego, and may have not treated them as best as I could have because of it."
"You are at least civil, right?"
"Oh of course," Colin confirmed. "I just may have not been the most… welcoming, to them. They are an excellent subordinate, but I might not have let them know that as I should have."
Not to mention that he rarely gave them any slack, but that was mostly because Conscript rarely screwed up and was always willing to take on whatever task he gave them.
"Something for another day Colin, but I will sit and help you out with whatever you need, for now, however… take a look at this."
Another image popped up, of a figure standing in a snow-covered forest, weapons in hand, a faint glow atop their head.
"Look familiar?" Dragon asks.
"Yes," Colin replies. "It's the same San Diego Clan cape, even if the outer armor is different, the symbol is even the same on its chest. But why is the picture in black and white?"
"Because this photo was taken somewhere in the forest of Warsaw, circa 1939."
"… What!?"
Another image popped up, of a man wearing a helmet resembling a jackal head, next to a German tank that had been somehow buried in the sand.
"This one, taken during the Siege of Tobruk in 1941. This single man broke the weeklong siege after they somehow brought a sandstorm down atop German troops, burying most of their vehicles, and disabling most of their weapons with sand."
Another one, this time of a thin woman with a finned helm, and giant blades angling backwards on her arms. A comparison image, of her standing in an unknown city skyline popped up alongside the image.
"1863, the battle of Gettysburg, where the better equipped Confederate forces were decimated by the Union army, backed by this figure here, who, by all accounts, wielded a rifle capable of killing several men a second, while being a mile away."
"Dragon, thi-"
Another image popped up, a painting this time, of a man in plate armor, standing next to what Colin would peg as a monk, given the sash and way he was standing, hands interlocked in front of his chest. And another comparison image, this time in what looked to be Sydney harbor.
"1761, The Siege of Cassel; French forces pushed back against Prussia forces, backed by this figure, depicted standing beside one of the captains he'd fought beside, sans the weapon that, according to a letter sent by the captain, boomed like thunder and punched dozens of holes in plate and men wherever it aimed."
Then another image popped up on Colins monitor, of a figure fighting in the 1413 Ottoman Civil War, recorded only by a tapestry found hidden away in a secret passage.
And then another.
And another.
Dozens of images flashed by, of figures bearing imposable resemblances to Clan member capes spotted in the last three decades, all armed with abilities that wouldn't be out of place in the world of capes, and wielding weapons that only could belong in a modern setting.
"This isn't possible," Colin declared, his eyes locked onto a dragon-themed warrior, complete with fire breath, that had been fighting against invading Vikings in Scandinavian, remembered only by an etching on the side of a stone castle.
"Capes and powers have only been around since the 80's, and while there were scattered reports of people with powers beforehand, none of those ever panned out. This… how long have you been working on this?"
"Several years, most of it I compiled from scraps, hearsay, and old legends that were only uncovered by those truly dedicated to uncovering them. Or protecting them."
Another image, this one of a man wearing large chest armor, with a wide metal-brimmed hat, standing next to-
"Is that Abraham Lincoln?"
"Next to a caretaker of the temples that the PRT wants to know so much about? Yes, it is."
"How is this possible?" Colin demanded, clicking his way through dozens of images. "How could the PRT miss this? How could anyone miss this!?"
"How many Grey Boy bubbles are there?" Dragon asked suddenly and Colin blinks at the question. He took a moment to think, recalling what he knew about one of the Slaughterhouse Nines most famous members.
"None; depending on unknown factors, they last anywhere from a day for the smaller ones, to a year for the largest, before degrading apart and releasing those trapped within, though sometimes to their deaths."
"Then why do I have reports and footage of the bubbles and those trapped inside them, dating over the course of two decades? While the people inside claim they've been trapped there for years?"
Colin was taken back. "You shouldn't, I mean…"
The man paused as he realized something.
"Dragon… where were the Grey Boy bubble sites?"
"Because you don't remember any?"
"No, I don't."
Colin rose from his seat and began pacing the room, thinking hard over all the new data he had been given.
"Is this a Stanger effect? Some kind of power that reaches over the world." A pause, with Colin's gaze extending out past the walls, unseeing for a moment.
"… no, if that was the case then… wait, maybe?"
"It's not a Stanger effect," said Dragon. "It's one of the Clans members. I think I know which one as well, mostly became people talk about her, but there is never any actual records of her. She messed with the bubbles and somehow destroyed them, saving most of the people within them. One of her powers seems to be like Alabasters; she can rewind herself in combat, only it seems to be quite literally from verbal and written reports. A time power messing with another time power, only hers is stronger."
"… is it possible that this cape can actually travel through time?" Colin asks. "As much as the thought makes me shudder, it would explain all this information you've collected."
"I doubt it."
"But you don't know for sure," pressed Colin.
"Colin, if they could time travel, we would not be having this conversation. I think this is something else, something bigger than what we're seeing."
"In several of these records, there are talk of them fighting others that match them in power and strength, of demons that met them on even ground. The Civil War record even talks of the Confederates wearing armor that protected them from musket rounds, and that it was grown and molded from dirt, metal, and flesh from those same people. And in each case the Clan was there, fighting on the opposite side."
"They were the ones that pushed the Germans back from Penzance in Britain in WWII, sinking ships and crippling the nearby German navy enough that they were forced to retreat. Yet while this was covered up at the time to avoid panic on Britain soil, the only record for this attack is in sunken ships off the coast with German tanks inside them. No other record exists, despite the fact there are reports and letters suggesting that ships and troops were sent to the area suddenly."
"Even with a cover-up, there is no way that all the records vanished. Not unless…"
"Someone removed them," Colin finished. "… is this the same for the other events?"
"More or less," confirmed Dragon. "There are scattered records of their opponents, mostly about them attacking and laying waste to all that stand before them, or taking over wherever they go, at least until the Clans show up to root them out. Which brings me to something I really need to show you."
Colin's screen flickered as the images changed, the old ones vanishing and being replaced by images of faded scrolls and paintings.
But it was one image that sent a jolt down his spine.
"Dragon-"
"One sec, I need to get the whole thing up and arranged just right for the best impact."
Colin glanced at his screen, watching as more paintings and scrolls popped up, overlapping each other as they did so.
But never blocking the one that chilled him to his bones.
It was a red feather, a quill, covering up a portion of his screen, just set off to the side. It had words under the images, words addressed to him.
'Distrust not her, but those that pull the strings behind her Colin Wallis. Soon it will be time to pick a side, but now is the time for silence. Know that you have stepped into the shadows unknowingly, but that you are not alone in them. When the time comes for the answer to the question you seek, I will be waiting with it.'
Underneath that was a string of numbers, GPS coordinates, to someplace in the mid-north section of the US if Colin wasn't mistaken.
"Right, ready?"
At Dragon's words, the unknown image vanished without a trace. Colin felt something heavy settle into his gut; if the message was actually from Dragon, then she wouldn't have been so mysterious about it, nor would she had bothered to fake it like she did. But if it came from an outside source…
"Who did you say tasked you with this project?" asked Colin, taking a gamble.
"The Chief Director and Alexandria did," was the answer, which did nothing to ease Colin's worries.
"It was noted that I was good with people and managing systems early on, so they asked me to consolidate everything from dozens and hundreds of sources worldwide. Right, now, storytime. These scrolls, wooden and stone tablets were excavated in Japan, back before Kyushu sank. They were largely viewed as an old mythological story, no different than the old stories of spirits and gods."
Colin's screen shifted to show a simple drawing of a man alongside Japanese Kanji.
"This is Emperor Tenmu, he ruled over Japan back in the late six-hundreds, and this is a drawing of an attacking force that apparently carved a path of destruction from the coast, using fire and lightning both from the air and ground, all the way to the area outside the palace during his reign."
Another image popped up, of demonic creatures, some wearing masks while others being little more than a rolling black cloud of limbs and faces, each one showing what could only be described as evil glee or being expressionless. The force was shown bearing down upon a town with other figures fleeing and being killed from beams of what looked to be light.
"It is said that no arrow could pierce their armor or skin, that all who knelt before them were spared, but that they killed any that resisted."
Another image, of people in a line, kneeling down, and one that carried a sword, being shot in the chest from a mass of dark clouds.
"They claimed to be arrivals from faraway lands, come to rule over all people, in all of the lands. Tenmu rallied his forces against this invader, and those of those serving under him, but they were hopelessly outmatched."
A painting, of men marching to their deaths, never getting close to the mass of limbs and cloud.
"… until a single warrior descend from the heavens to fight back against the unstoppable foe. Armed with nothing but blade and bow, filled with rage and the power of the heavens, he pushed the unstoppable foe back to the sea, and cast them out of Japan."
Colin blinked at the new image, one of a man with a bow on his back, a sash covering his front and neck, and a single horn coming out from the middle of his forehead, cutting through the cloud, the faces within having changed to ones of terror.
He also had no eyes.
Colin knew that figure, and Dragon popped up a comparison image, it having the same figure standing atop a brunt out cop car, several capes that had 'claimed' that portion of the city for themselves further down the street.
It was something of a cult image because standing between the two groups, stopping them from fighting, was Vikare. It was one of the few images the world had of the hero before his death.
"Tenmu tried to bask the warrior in gifts and lands, to get him to stay within Japan, but he refused, stating that it was not his place. And it was from the name of the warrior that a new title for the Emperor of Japan was born."
Some of the images from before flashed across Colin's screen, a part in each one being highlighted. They were all in different languages, but when Dragon enough them all next to each other and translated them…
"It's a name I've seen several times, all over the world. It is one of the few things that link all of these different events together, a name that helped guild me to many of them, because it was often one of the few things that survived the passing of them, probably because it was protected, because it's important."
The final translation happened, being pulled from the image of that great warrior, cutting through the dark sky, and vanquishing the evil that threatened the land.
"Tenno."
