A/N: Back to Team JNPR. This was a fun chapter to write, although I've been having some issues with fitting Team JNPR and their arcs (wow, hilarious) into the story. Enjoy!
The heroes never developed a way to get around quickly. Patrol routes are specifically designed so there's a hero close enough to respond to any major incident at any time. Of course, that's less helpful when there's a major incident in Mistral, miles from Vale, and the news is being broadcast across the nation, which is going to cause chaos.
"I'll handle it," Pyrrha says instantly, cutting off her teammates' panicked babble. Pyrrha's spent her whole life training to take down superpowered villains, and The Huntress showing up is going to reassure the public more than any other intervention could.
"Good luck getting there," Jaune mumbles. His earpiece, designed to pick up its wearer's voice in noisy combat and stealth missions alike, transmits the message perfectly.
"Thank you!" Pyrrha says cheerfully, opting to ignore the sarcasm. Jaune is right, of course, but he doesn't need to be rude about it. She vaults to the next building, scanning the area in the vain hope that an easier method of transportation will materialize.
Pyrrha swears under her breath and picks up her pace when the faint drone of a helicopter sounds from the East. The blinding white paint and the two rotors mean it's clearly Atlesian, and an attempted arrest now of all times is not going to be particularly helpful.
Then again, The Huntress can work miracles with her power and reputation.
Pyrrha waits until the helicopter is directly above her, then turns the electromagnets to their maximum power setting and jumps. The jolt to her arms unbalances her, and she nearly plummets toward the closest steel skyscraper. Her mask isn't much use against the wind, and she tries to shut her eyes against the high-speed dust, then reopens them to gauge distance.
Her armor is pulling towards the electromagnets, cutting gashes in her legs and torso. Pyrrha turns the electromagnets down considerably to avoid overshooting the helicopter and being chopped into slaw by the blades, and issues a silent prayer that her calculations were correct.
Of course they aren't. Pyrrha slams her forearms into the fuselage of the helicopter, ripping off the door with the magnets, then splays herself flat across the roof to avoid the blades. She vaults down into the helicopter and shouts "go to the site of the major incident."
It's a human pilot, thankfully, not an android that wouldn't respond to sudden changes in command. Two more soldiers are in the cabin, and don't seem likely to contradict her orders. Anonymity may be convenient, but a reputation as the most brutally effective fighter on Remnant has its perks.
The villain's powerset is excessive strength and durability. That means they don't have a form of ranged attack, but they also can't be taken down by a single effective blow. They're also not simply out of control; there's a clear pattern of destruction. That means Pyrrha can shoot to kill, and probably should, but she dislikes murder even if it's effective.
It might have been smart to bring Nora along; she's the only one who can match someone like this in raw power. But Nora's also reckless enough to cause even more destruction, so Pyrrha's training and gadgetry will have to be sufficient to take down this villain. It is a shame. Nora always seems to be enjoying combat, even when she's bloody and beaten and nearly broken. She laughs at their enemies. Pyrrha wishes she could still treat a fight like a game.
The trail of destruction is visible from miles away; it doesn't even look man-made, more like the path of a hurricane. Solid concrete structures are crumbling; smaller buildings have simply disintegrated. A few red and blue lights of emergency vehicles drift around the wreckage.
Pyrrha's fingers stray toward her pocket, tracing the outline of the object. Taking on the powers of the Fall Maiden could kill her, or cause her to lose control and do even more damage. On the other hand, she has a duty to stop the villain and save the city, by any means necessary. That's her job. Not mercy or lifesaving or justice. Bringing down the villain, no matter what it takes.
The helicopter is approaching the villain, which is visible only as a cloud of dust as it demolishes everything in its path. It's no use trying to shoot it from this distance, so Pyrrha waits, checking her pockets for Dust cartridges. Durability might not help it against fire.
She jumps when she's close enough to the villain, landing a bit too hard despite the electromagnets slowing her fall. The villain doesn't see her, so she has the advantage for a moment, despite the lack of cover. If she can blow up a portion of the street to trap it, it'll be much easier to take down.
The villain lumbers toward her before she can actually develop a plan. It's eight feet tall, at a minimum, and looks – rough. Unfinished, like a clay golem or a statue that never got a face chiseled in.
Pyrrha sighs and raises her sword for the obligatory shot at the arm to test its invulnerability. It ignores the hit and swings at her side, almost forcing her back. The shield holds its shape and doesn't deform or snap, so it has limits to its strength, at least.
Pyrrha retreats, cursing the total destruction that means she has no cover. She has the advantage of speed, at least slightly, so she dodges away and aims.
A canister of Fire Dust into the legs of the creature creates a firestorm that swirls around the villain for several long moments. It reappears, unharmed, but struggling in the melted asphalt at its feet. That's all Pyrrha needed, and the next step is to find its weak points. She'll try the eyes first.
Pyrrha throws her javelin, which bounces off the villain's raised hand harmlessly. She summons it back to her hand with the electromagnets, ignoring the creaking of steel rebar from around her. A slow invulnerable villain is still an invulnerable villain, and if her attacks do nothing she's still not going to win this fight by any stretch of the term.
Maybe the villain is robotic. Lightning Dust is worth a try in any case.
The sparks sink into its skin, but it ignores them and struggles free. Pyrrha backs up again, wondering how far she can keep retreating. As it turns out, she doesn't need to worry.
The villain staggers and falls to its knees, roaring in pain. It collapses, revealing a woman – a girl, really – behind it. She's small, with black hair, holding a parasol, of all weapons, with a long spike at the end, currently dripping in the same black fluid oozing out of the villain's back.
"Who are you?" Pyrrha demands. She scans through the files they have on powered and nonpowered individuals. No matches anywhere in the databases, even in criminal records.
The girl smiles sweetly, retracting the spike back into her parasol and propping it over her shoulder, but doesn't say a word.
"Do you understand me?" Pyrrha asks.
She nods, but still doesn't say a word.
"How did you kill a villain like that?"
The girl smiles again, stepping daintily over the corpse and picking her way across the rubble until she's directly in front of Pyrrha. She winks, as if to say trade secret.
Oh, a confusing one. Hero or villain, she just killed a villain with incredible power, possibly saving Pyrrha's life in the process. Pyrrha is not the kind of person who people accuse of being too trusting, but if nothing else she wants someone like this on her side, where she can keep tabs on their movements.
"I appreciate your assistance."
The girl raises one eyebrow, then pantomimes a knee-slapping laugh.
"It was mostly you, I know. I appreciate it either way, and, if you'd like a more permanent position taking down villains, we're always looking for recruits."
A few white lies won't hurt to get someone this powerful on their team.
The girl frowns in contemplation for a moment, then grabs Pyrrha's hand and shakes it enthusiastically.
"Welcome to the team," Pyrrha says.
She stays there for two more hours, lifting the half-demolished roofs to rescue those trapped inside, and never notices a faint blur of green and brown crouching in the rubble.
"Cinder, we have our mole."
"Excellent," Cinder says, then returns to the minute adjustments of her cybernetic arm. There has to be a better way to enhance the power of the few fragments she has, and her Lady won't be pleased if she takes a simple task like that to occupy her time.