"Absolutely not."
"What are you talking about?" Taylor threw up her arms exasperatedly. "I keep hearing about it from you, about you wanting to save this city!"
She gestured angrily at herself. "Well, here I am!"
She was clad in the uniform the PRT had given her. It lacked any distinctive flair, although Taylor personally didn't care much for the flair. She had no idea how the hell Glory Girl beat up people in a skirt, and she didn't particularly want to find out.
Her cape costume emphasized this. It was brutally pragmatic. She was wearing black military fatigues, the same that the PRT troopers wore. They were surprisingly comfortable, the ripstop fabric stretchy and breathable. Her brute/breaker classification rendered armor unnecessary, and thus the only armor present on it was aesthetic in nature.
Vivid orange pauldrons and kneepads fit snugly overtop of the tactical attire, while an obsidian coloured chestplate laid overtop her ribs and sternum. Armored gloves concealed her hands. She wore a simple domino mask, modified as to let her glasses fit underneath.
Overall, she looked like more of a specialist trooper than a cape, and Taylor was fine with that. Her father didn't seem to be of the same opinion, however.
"Taylor, the PRT want to use you as a weapon against these criminals! These aren't your average muggers, these are dangerous people!"
"Dad!" Taylor sat down angrily in her chair, wincing as the cutlery on the table audibly bounced with the motion. "I raised an island. I can slingshot boulders above the speed of sound! I can take them!"
"I don't care!" Danny suddenly shouted.
His eyes widened, and he sagged into his own chair in front of her, their dinner forgotten. He sighed. "I'm sorry, Taylor. That was uncalled for. I just… We already lost mom. I don't want to lose you too."
Taylor slumped as well. "I'm sorry as well, I think we both were getting too heated there."
Danny made an agreeable noise, sighing as his palm came to massage his forehead. "No, you're right to shout at me. I should've known that you'd be fighting villains. Of course you would be." He gave a weak smile.
"I'm sorry again Taylor. Just… be careful, alright?"
Taylor returned the smile, leaning forward across the table to hug him. "Always."
Thomas Calvert was not a particularly courageous man. He was not a particularly stupid one either. He was an intelligent one. He knew when to fight, and when to fold, when to advance, and when to retreat.
In a world where supervillains had a lifespan comparable to a hare in the wild, these traits were invaluable. Other supervillains burned incandescently and with fury. They burned brightly, but died swiftly. Coil? His flame didn't burn, so much as simmer. Let other supervillains fight the geopolitical game of territories and streetcorners, of shootouts and slugfests with heroes. Coil would play from the shadows, to his strengths.
This had been his philosophy ever since he'd drunk that vial, ever since he'd sold his soul for power. He paid for it with one of the few things he considered truly valuable. He bought the power, he'd damn well use it all. And now, his power was showing him the turning of the tides.
Just like with Houston and Eidolon, New York and Legend, and Alexandria and Los Angeles, Brockton Bay was about to become home to a triumvirate-tier cape. Villains would either adapt, or die.
And Coil, if nothing else, was an expert at adaptation. If Director Piggot saw this coming as well, and wanted to declare open season on the villains in some asinine way of propping up her dismal record here in Brockton Bay? Well, Coil would be more than happy to oblige.
When the dust settled, Coil would rule.
These thoughts, and more, ran through the disguised villain's mind as he stood in front of a holographic projector, looking at the assorted PRT capes and troopers in front of him. He smiled thinly, as the hologram shifted in front of him. Clearing his throat, the man that would take Brockton Bay began to speak.
"Whether we wanted it or not, we've received a rare opportunity to strike at the gangs that seek to rule our city. So let's get to taking out their command, one by one." The hologram shifted, depicting a shirtless man with draconic tattoos, standing alongside a man clad in black, a crimson demon mask over his face.
"Lung and Oni Lee. From what our patrols can gather, they frequent a casino, Ruby Dreams, just outside of Brockton Bay. It is well protected." Calvert looked up, regarding the assembled Protectorate capes. "But with the right team, we can punch through, take them out, and break their grip on the Docks."
Moonlight fell gently across suburban sprawl, dominated by warehouses and abandoned buildings. Taylor knelt down on a rooftop, surveying a brightly lit building.
The words 'Ruby Dreams' were emblazoned in neon on the front of it, almost as if the building had been transported straight out of the 1950s.
"In position." The radio crackled softly in Taylor's helmet, as Miss Militia's voice echoed from it. Taylor hadn't had the time to talk much with her, but she seemed to be pleasant. At the very least, she was more sociable than Armsmaster.
Taylor looked past the building, and saw her kneeling on a building opposite. Her power glowed in her hands, verdant energy flickering as it shifted from a small pocket knife into a dart rifle.
Her ability was fascinating to Taylor. She wondered what exactly was the limit of that ability. On PHO, she'd read that she couldn't project tinkertech weaponry, but what about the more obscure weaponry?
Once, when surfing the net, Taylor had come across a custom made rifle, with a caliber so large it was considered an explosive destructive device and had to be given special exemption. The 'Fat Mac', a single shot rifle capable of firing the absolutely ludicrous .950 JDJ round. Only 3 of them were made, probably because the rifle weighed 85 pounds and nobody seriously wanted to buy a literal cannon. But it wasn't technically tinkertech, so Taylor had to wonder..
Taylor allowed a small, amused smile to stretch across her face as she envisioned Miss Militia absolutely blasting some poor fool of a villain with a round like that.
"Is the target onsite?" Armsmaster said, his gruff voice jolting Taylor out of her idle musings.
"Target presence confirmed. Permission to take the shot?" Miss Militia almost mumbled, her voice soft and controlled.
Silence stretched. Taylor clenched her fists, feeling the material of her gloves stretch and creak with the motion. She felt out, consolidating her power over the rock and stone beneath her.
Asphalt felt.. weird to her. It was the best way she could describe it. Asphalt was ultimately a collection of aggregate resources and bitumen. She could control the aggregates, but the bitumen apparently wasn't considered a geologic unit by her power. Manipulating it, to her, was like trying to make molasses flow faster. It was possible, but it just wasn't worth the effort.
Armsmaster's voice rang out, sharp over the radio. "Take it."
The rifle cracked, and glass shattered.
That was her signal.
Taylor breathed in. While she could just as easily make the casino disappear into a sinkhole, that would be massively overkill and probably break multiple articles of the Cape rules for engagement. So she didn't.
Instead, she pushed herself off the roof, hurtling towards the ground. Rock burst out of the ground, coating her head to toe. She was a human battering ram. She felt an urge to laugh, adrenaline flooding her as she smashed through the side of the casino, landing on the carpeted floor inside.
Oni Lee was keeled over, unconscious, a dart sticking out of his neck. Taylor lifted up her hand, and rock burst through the floor, bands of granite holding the ABB cape fast.
"Oni Lee secured." Taylor said.
"Copy that Everest. Status on Lung?"
Taylor glanced around, frowning. "No, I don't -"
A fist wreathed in fire caught her in the side of her head. The impact was more surprising than anything, the thick rock coating her body probably making it so that it hurt Lung more than her.
"So, this is the cape that has emboldened the PRT so." Lung snarled. "You are a fool! I fought Levia-"
Taylor gestured. Rock emerged from the ground and slammed into Lung, propelling him through the casino wall. The building shuddered with the impact, and Lung landed in the parking lot outside, several car alarms going out as the draconic cape landed heavily.
"I don't care." Taylor simply stated. "You are a parasite."
Taylor launched herself after him, landing in front of Lung with a booming impact. Stone grinded as she rose to her full height.
Lung roared, clambering to his feet. He was approaching 9 feet now as he began to ramp up. The flames were so intense that nearby cars began to melt, aluminum and rubber forming puddles of molten metal and slags.
Taylor would be concerned about the property damage, had they not belonged to gang members who were strangling her father's visions of a Brockton Bay that was actually worth something.
"I'll kill yo-"
"Everest, come in. Everest!"
Taylor turned her back to Lung, raising a hand. "Hold that thought."
"Yes, Armsmaster?" Taylor answered her radio.
"Lung is ramped up in the parking lot. You were supposed to subdue him!"
Lung charged forward, incensed beyond words. Taylor merely gestured once more. The rock coating her figure detached from her, moving to slam into the dragon's limbs.
Lung may be a dragon. But Taylor was a mountain. He struggled, but the equivalent of hundreds of tons of pressure was simply too much. It kept him pinned to the half melted asphalt. Even the mightiest of dragons had to bow to the mountain.
She grinned viciously at him, still holding out her hand. With her other, she pressed at the comlink in her ear. "I have. You can apply the tinkertech sedative now."
A pause.
"Don't let overconfidence dictate your battles." Armsmaster finally said, emerging from the darkened corner behind her.
His halberd extended, and a blue liquid was injected into the Lung's neck, as he angrily gazed at them, his eyes still glowing balefully.
Taylor watched silently as Lung's eyes dimmed, and he lapsed into unconsciousness. As Lung's fire retreated, so did something in Taylor's mind. She blinked.
"Oh, god." Taylor said, looking around her. "I didn't mean to, I-"
What had she meant to do? She remembered that adrenaline surge she got, the way she outright revelled in the combat, in establishing her superiority.
She hung her hand, breathing deeply. She relaxed her control. Around them, rock retreated back into the ground, leaving gaping holes in the ground.
"I'm sorry Armsmaster. I just…" She shrugged, turning to him.
"I guess I got lost in the fight."
Armsmaster looked at her for a while. He eventually nodded, turning back away from her.
They stood in silence for a while longer, the approaching whine of a PRT transport's engine sounding in the distance.
"It's not unheard of," Armsmaster broke the silence, "For powerful capes like yourself to feel drawn to combat. I experience it myself, to an obviously lessened degree."
Armsmaster shook his head. "Control it. You are the master."
Taylor merely nodded. She gazed at the prone form of Lung for a long while. She wondered how much of Armsmaster's words were true.
Was she really the master?
5th chapter lets go
Updates will likely slow down now. I finally managed to snag a PS5 and God of War Ragnarok for myself, and I got a few weeks off from work for Christmas. I'm gonna absolutely destroy that game.
