(Author's note: I had a bad week for writing, so I have expanded the addendum that was cut from the previous chapter into a mini-interlude to tide things over. I'm hoping to get back to my usual chapter length next time.)
68.1 Interlude Missy
Missy held her position on the outskirts of Alan Shepard Park. This far south the city was largely untouched by the damage from HIS Ungodly Hour. Well, depending on how you evaluated damage. The area was free of rubble and destroyed buildings, but the impact of the event could be seen clearly in the tents and fences that had been set up.
Nearly eight hundred people relocated in the aftermath. Well, more than that had been displaced by the attacks, but the rest were spread through the city's shelters and relief stations, not concentrated in one place like this. That was limited to the people Bakuda had conscripted into the ABB.
That was why they were stationed at the park, or at least why they were currently stationed. Before last night every cape the Protectorate could call upon had been in the field, helping relief workers, clearing streets, or keeping order in the aftermath. Then Bakuda had made her announcement and suddenly they needed to do a publicity appearance. It would be different if they could actually do something, make a difference, but no. They were here to show that the Protectorate was dedicating resources to a problem nobody knew how to fix, with Bakuda making sure everyone was aware of just how impossible the problem was.
At least it still got her out of mandatory leave. That woman from the Youth Guard had sent her work records off for evaluation, they were treating every second she was on base as reserve duty and every moment she was out in costume as active patrol time. In addition to a reprimand for her record and that agent who had handled the data entry, she had been stood down, right after His attack during the press conference. If not for the state of emergency she would still be under effective house arrest, prevented from helping while the city burned.
She fumed silently while pretending not to notice the press photographers hovering just beyond the perimeter. Not the friendly local press she could recognize after years of publicity events. The vans parked further back had logos of national networks or national newspapers. More people showing up for the spectacle of the city, treating them like some kind of freak show, an outlier rather than a proper cape city.
Still, she made sure to act as the good, diligent cape for the cameras. Keeping the PR approved expression on her face, serious but optimistic, she checked on the rest of the heroes who had been assigned to waiting duty.
Battery was standing apart from the Wards. Enough distance to make the separation in rank clear while still showing that she was in command of the team. The team charged with looking pretty and doing precisely nothing.
No, not nothing. Her eyes jumped towards the medical tents. This wasn't the kind of environment you would want for surgery, but it wasn't like they could take them into a hospital. Instead, things were contained and relocated after each treatment, all with the national press watching every moment they could capture. From that perspective there was actually a decent reason to have her, Kid Win, and Browbeat standing by, even if they were just kept in reserve in case anything went wrong with Clockblocker's work.
"You think they're going to call us in?" Browbeat asked. The sudden question surprised her and she had to remind herself once again that despite the big cape's size and inexperience he was actually quite observant.
It was something she had to wonder about. Before this all started she had largely written off Blake as just another middling-tier brute along the lines of Manpower. The type of cape that basically filled out the ranks of cape teams, providing some additional force, but not any unique applications.
That had been before he came out as the only person who didn't completely embarrass themselves at the disaster at the bank. Still taken down, but at least costing the Undersiders something in breaking Grue's knife. It was the closest thing they had to a win in the entire mess and provided enough information for Armsmaster to start putting together details on …Him.
Hell, it had actually felt like a win, for all of the day it took to realize how quickly those knives could be replaced. All thanks to whatever that stupid contract was. Still, it wasn't like there was time to specifically sour that victory, not with everything else that was happening.
She wondered if that had been the first sign, or if it had been at the Forsberg Gallery. That loss still stung whenever she thought about it. It was something it seemed only Dennis really understood on the same level as her. Something she never would have expected from him. Just like pushing Browbeat to handle the surgery.
Field medical treatment wasn't something you saw from middling-tier brutes. Really, it was something you rarely saw to begin with, and almost never from capes able to effectively defend themselves. It was little wonder the Protectorate had basically forced Blake into medical training, seeing just how far he could push things.
That was what made her wonder. If he was able to shift his body in all the ways he had shown, growing and shrinking, adding armor plates, extending surgical blades of bone, patching wounds with spare protein, and even impersonating Flechette, then what else could he do? Was he routinely pushing his vision past 20/20? Was he expanding the range of his hearing? Or improving his sense of smell? When he first joined everything he had done had seemed fairly standard, just a bulked-up build with a bit of armor. But that was just it. When he first joined, weeks after triggering. Comparing what she could accomplish now to what she'd barely been able to manage just after triggering was beyond night and day. She was practically a different cape.
Maybe that's why she was focused on the idea. The Wards liked a brand they could sell, and as inoffensive a brand as possible. It wasn't a place that encouraged you to develop or reinvent yourself. Not unless things went very wrong. Nobody in the Wards was the same person they'd been a week ago. She just needed to look at Chris for confirmation on that.
"I doubt they're going to need us." He said, checking something on his floating display screen. It was a miraculous invention, massively useful for sharing information in a way his visor display never could. She just didn't like thinking about the obvious inspiration for the design, or the swaths of other tinkers no doubt working from the same source of 'inspiration'.
"I scanned all the bombs before they started work. I mean, scanned them as well as I could." He clarified. "It's not enough for a perfect assessment, but there wasn't anything particularly concerning in them. Um, Armsmaster and Dragon have more detailed scans of everyone in the camp. I was just doing a verification check, but yeah, not the fancy stuff."
"Still enough to be dangerous." Vista said, looking at the medical tent.
Kid Win nodded. "Yeah, but it's 'hand grenade dangerous', not 'black hole dangerous'. Dragon thinks Bakuda was saving the exotic stuff for the attack teams to use and just churning out whatever she could for the implanted bombs."
Browbeat looked down at Chris and shook his head. "It's crazy that you're actually working with Dragon. I mean, it's crazy that she's here in the first place, but I mean, you're working with DRAGON."
Chris looked away as he rubbed the back of his neck. "It's not so much working WITH her. I look over some stuff, and submit my designs, but everyone does that. I'm just closer, get feedback." He muttered. "But yeah." He said, rallying. "No shortage of crazy in this situation."
Missy let out a sharp breath at that, but otherwise kept her composure. Always important when the press were on the scene.
"Do you think there'll be more?" Browbeat asked, then seemed to realize the implications of his own question. "I mean, can we…" He trailed off hopelessly as Missy shared a look with Chris.
"I don't know." Chris said. "Maybe? But that means playing ball with Bakuda, and the director-"
"She won't." Vista cut in. "Not with the Teeth in town. Not with the 'Celestial Forge' about to be announced." She hated that name as much as His, but at least she could say and think it without anything jumping into her head. If she wanted to call them 'The Gang of Diabolical Jackals' she was free from any stranger powers intruding to correct her.
Not that there weren't plenty of other stranger powers to worry about, but she would take what cold comfort she could.
"Probably right." Kid Win said with a reluctant nod. "Things are going to be bad enough without piling on whatever Bakuda is going to ask for." He looked over at the main body of the camp. "Even with all this, people are going to be split on the issue. Nobody is going to want to reward Bakuda after everything she did."
No, they would just expect the heroes to deal with everything, perfectly and at no cost. Free the hostages, capture Bakuda, and clear the city. Even the first step was borderline impossible, with the only person who could do it basically asking for free rein over the city in exchange. And with the way things were, they probably would have given it to Him if not for Bakuda's ultimatum.
Browbeat let out a long breath from lungs that had to be the size of Hefty bags. "Damn it." He said safely out of earshot of Battery or the press, though he could probably get away with mild profanity in a way she never could. Stupid image constraints. "After everything, this is supposed to be a good step, but it just feels meaningless."
"It's supposed to." Vista said bitterly, though she kept her true emotions off her face in case any reporters still had cameras on them. "This wasn't about giving hope, it's about showing how bad the situation actually is. It's an empty gesture from Bakuda, reminding people that she still has leverage, even after everything that's happened." Unless HE could actually break Bakuda's code after Dragon completely proved it was impossible. Not that she didn't want it broken, but in a way it was vindicating to know that some things were beyond everyone's reach, no matter what their powers were.
"It's not going to be an empty gesture for those kids." Browbeat said in a hollow voice. Vista felt her rage sputter, leaving a shameful feeling in its place.
"I didn't mean it like that." She said. "It's just, there's too much. This is important, but it doesn't really add up."
"I know." He said with another massive sigh. "I know how much there is." He looked down at the palm of his hand. Modifications to his costume now left gaps in the centers of each palm, places where he could extend his biokinesis without needing to remove his gloves. "I… I lost track of the number of people I patched up on Thursday night. Friday morning, whatever." He looked back at her and Chris, a brittle smile just visible through his mask. "Class Two Trauma Responder, remember?" He said in a strained voice.
"It made a difference." Chris assured him. "People are talking about how much lower the fatalities are, compared to what's expected from something like this. A big part of that was Apeiron's site, but the coordination of the response was only half of the battle. Nobody would have thought we could have done this well without Panacea."
Missy bit down on her tongue, trying to drown out the words that forced their way into her head. The lie that tried to repaint the situation into something it wasn't, that worked to hide the truth of what they were actually up against. Instead, she latched onto the last part of Kid Win's statement, focusing on that while pretending that name had never entered her mind.
"Have you heard anything new about Amy?" She asked Chris. Normally he'd be the last person she would go to for that kind of information, but he had been half living on console duty ever since HIS Ungodly Hour. Combine that with the general pandemonium following the attacks, the breakdown in normal leadership structures, and his work directly with Dragon and Armsmaster and Chris was about their best hope for rumors on the subject.
"Still in offsite containment, last I heard. Assault's been checking in on her. Well, Official Protectorate Contact, but apparently he's been sneaking her ice cream along with all the snacks Battery doesn't let him eat at home."
They glanced towards the hero in question who was looking as professional and stoic as ever. For the sake of that image, it was probably for the best that the video of her pancaking into thin air at the edge of the blackout field hadn't gone public.
"Um, not sure how much Amy knows about what's happening in the city." Chris continued. "I mean, you aren't allowed live TV or internet, but she has windows, so…" He gave a hopeless shrug. "Probably put something together, especially after Thursday night."
"They haven't cleared her yet?" Blake asked. "Even with everything that's happening?" For a second Vista thought she heard a familiar tone in his voice. One that reminded her of Amy when the girl was called in for a particularly late-night healing, or if Missy ran into her after an unusually long shift. It was weird thinking of both capes in the same context, but Browbeat was technically on medical duty, and had been… well, since the emergency measures were put in place last Wednesday.
Chris shook his head. "Something about Vicky's situation set them back. They can't clear her until it's resolved."
Vista frowned, then quickly schooled her features for the cameras. "Have you heard anything about what Vicky's situation actually is? Or why they're keeping so quiet about it? Or what it has to do with Amy being mastered?"
There was a tired look between the boys at her final question, but they had stopped trying to correct her long ago. Instead, Chris just shook his head. "I know it has something to do with power testing. They've brought in specialists for that, but everything else is locked down tighter than anything I've seen. From what I hear they're even keeping it out of the computers. As for what it is… No idea. She didn't mention anything?"
Vista dropped her eyes and shook her head. "One call. No details, just said she was okay. Nothing about what happened when she saved Triumph."
Chris glanced towards the medical tents. "Clock said about the same when he visited Triumph. Um, less 'fine', but no real details about what happened."
Vista felt her mood sink further as she kept her press face in place. Even with everything, every impossibility about that day, the situation with Vicky stuck out. It could be the mystery of it. The other impossibilities had happened in broad daylight. They were insane, but it was insanity broadcast for the world, not something desperately being hushed up. Considering everything that HAD come out she could only imagine the level of something the PRT would feel the need to conceal. Given what had happened to the container yard she doubted it was anything good.
Or maybe because it was her specifically, being worried about Vicky. She knew that there was a time not too long ago when she would have celebrated having Vicky contained to mysterious power testing for an indeterminate period. How she would have been happy to have that girl isolated from the world and the city short a hero.
That was before she had seen Vicky's life fall apart. Before she had to admit that Dean's sudden departure hurt Vicky as much as it did her. Before she found out about Vicky's parents, something that came far, far too close to her own situation.
She had been ten at the time. Well, nine during the earliest parts, but ten during the worst of it. Her parents probably thought she didn't understand what was happening, as if she could have ever missed the reason for their shouting matches. What her mother did while her father was fighting cancer. The animosity between her dad and uncle afterwards. The fights, the retaliation, the divorce and that nightmare custody agreement that turned her home into a prison with rotating wardens, neither parent really living there so having no reason to truly care about it. About her.
It was so bad, so mind bogglingly insane that for the longest time she had thought nobody could even understand, much less relate. Looking back, she could see the immaturity of that thinking. The selfishness of it. Holding on to those events like they made her special, unique. Someone who overcame the kind of thing that nobody could comprehend.
It wasn't just Vicky. She hadn't really considered any of the rest of the team like that. She hadn't known about Clockblocker's father. It was a different situation from her own, without the family drama, but she couldn't say it was better. Not with the relapse and challenges of treatment with the city falling apart. The reason for his trigger, the reason Dennis was Clockblocker and she had never even thought to ask.
Though, before the events of the last week, would there have been any point? Dennis, before he had needed to rise to the occasion, would have just brushed her off, made a joke or frozen her to avoid an awkward conversation. She hadn't really looked at him as anything but an annoyance, filler on the team coasting his way to a Protectorate posting. And honestly, he had probably seen things the same way, before everything started to fall apart.
It wasn't just Clockblocker. Blake's near drowning. Chris's battles with ADD and dyscalculia, struggling to focus until things came to a head. Trigger events were painful. Nobody wanted to revisit their own and nobody wanted to consider anyone else's.
That was before HE had shone a light on the idea while assaulting Panacea in the hospital basement. Then trigger theory was on everyone's mind. Something she knew about in passing, but never took seriously before. Not until everyone was trying to use it as an assessment technique.
She had to admit, there was a certain thrill in considering things that way. In looking at people and trying to piece together the convoluted mess that created their power. Her thoughts had wandered to the Undersiders on more than one occasion, usually with the memory of Grue's sucker punch jumping to her mind. Imagining the horrible event that would lead to someone skulking in the dark. Or ingratiating themselves with vermin. Or creating monsters to face their troubles. Some of the ideas that flowed into her mind were enough to comfort the fury that still burned from that defeat.
Particularly with the Undersiders' new place in the city. The details of Somer's Rock were still being arranged for release, but with the Undersiders sitting high and mighty she would take whatever comfort she could get.
"Gallant probably reached out to her as well." Chris said, awkwardly running a hand across the new parts of his costume. "He might have heard more, but even if he hasn't, I'm sure it was good to hear from him."
"Yeah. I'm sure." Vista said as sincerely as she could.
The mention of Dean was bittersweet for Vista. It had been wonderful to hear from him, even if it was just a short email. Well wishes, checking in on them and confirmation of his safety. Safety and potential return. She was desperately looking forward to seeing him, but couldn't help but worry that things with Vicky would fall back into their old pattern.
Honestly, there was just as much worry that things wouldn't. Worry that her new relationship with Vicky would hold, even with her feelings for Dean, and that she would somehow have to deal with THAT. She didn't even know how to process the situation without silently dumping all of her hate towards Victoria. Using the overly perfect flying barbie doll as a lightning rod for all the frustration of her own image and the fact she seemed to be permanently assigned to role of the kiddy cape.
Well, maybe not entirely kiddy. The dread prediction made by Vicky had come true, even if she got the name wrong. Spacetime rather than Continuum. Really, with how well her powers worked with Clockblocker's and how good the videos of them fighting together looked it was probably inevitable. For the first time, Vista had a cape ship.
Well, it was more of a partnership than any kind of romance, but there were still elements that went further, at least as far as PHO allowed for Wards. Just two weeks ago the idea that people would pair her up with Dennis would seem like the worst disaster in the history of cape fandom. That was probably because she could have imagined it as being saddled with an ineffectual prankster as a way of keeping her forever from any serious parts of cape life.
Instead, people were using words like 'Power Couple' and arguing about how far the synergy between their powers could be taken. Also, Dennis of two weeks ago wasn't the Dennis who had seen them through the recent disasters. That was something she would never have imagined. With all the attention the country had turned on Brockton Bay, Dean and Carlos were no more than footnotes in it. Incidents that kicked things off, with the main focus on the Wards who stayed and fought. She was more famous than Gallant. Hell, Clockblocker was more famous than Gallant.
Clockblocker had also personally apologized to her when the pairing was brought to his attention and asked how she wanted to handle things. The default of making no comment and leaving the PR division and PHO mods to take care of anything inappropriate was the default and usually best option. Still, even if it was being seen as overly saccharine, at least people were acknowledging that she might actually be capable of a relationship, rather than still being in a 'boys are gross' phase.
There was also a subset of the forums who insisted that she had stolen Clockblocker away from Flechette. Even with no interest in the ship, she found that idea appealing. Vague images of a future with Dean and a PHO reputation as some kind of heartbreaking minx floated in her head when she thought about the situation. It was the kind of image she would never have imagined possible.
It almost made up for the loss of Dean. Well, no, not even close, but she would take comfort where she could. Dean had found a lead on new armor and secured a commission. Not an easy task by any means, and she knew it hit Chris hard that he hadn't been able to get Dean's suit working again. Instead, he had given Chris permission to salvage anything he could from the damaged suit while he had his new suit made.
"It's good that he's getting a new suit. And that you were able to recover some stuff from the wrecked armor." She said, trying to reassure him. It was obvious how uncomfortable he was about digging into the ruined armor, something she really respected.
"Yeah. Yeah, working with 'wrecks'," he swallowed. "It's almost easier than building new." He sounded almost bitter as he spoke. He extended an arm, highlighting the framework he had built into the exterior of his costume.
"So that gives you superstrength?" Blake asked, looking down.
Chris shook his head. "Some strength, but not really 'super'. The servos always strained themselves to the limit trying to account for the weight of the armor while maintaining steady movement. Plus, they were sliced up too badly to just fold into a strength frame." He extended an arm, mocking a firing stance. "This is mostly a stabilization array and aim assist."
"Wasn't that one of the theories for the metal stuff on Apeiron's arms?" Blake asked, and Vista bit her tongue again, doing everything she could to drown out the words flowing into her head.
Chris just nodded, like the persistent stranger effect was nothing to be concerned about. "It's not going to be doing speed assembly, but I'm already using equipment to assist in calculations and measurements." The dyscalculia, Vista thought. "This was kind of a natural extension of that." He tensed an arm and the gold framing briefly flared the same blue as his repulsor greaves. "The framework was also a power conductor, so I can tie it into the repulsor systems, or even my weapons. Motors can be run as generators, so the power sources are built in." The excitement seemed to fade as the glow left the framework. "Not bad for a salvaged wreck."
"I'll say." Missy said encouragingly. "You change the design as well?"
It was something she was more than a little envious about when it came to tinkers. She had been locked into the same costume design from the moment she triggered, but Chris could get an image revision following any major project. They had overhauled his look twice, once when he decided on pistols and again when he finished his flight board. He was probably due for another 'official' update, if only to capture the changes he had made to his equipment.
Chris's mood seemed to rally as he nodded. "I actually got the idea from one of Garment's videos."
Vista blinked in surprise. "What, seriously? You watch those?"
"Hey, they're really good. I mean, they started good, but the production quality has been improving constantly. Plus, practically living in the console room, so it's something to pass the time." He said defensively.
Vista just shrugged and glanced over to Blake. He looked down and asked. "They're really that good?"
Chris nodded again. "It started out just demonstration stuff, but it was all really detailed and complex work, and framed really well. She started doing longer videos, then on Saturday she shifted to educational videos. She's done one on color theory and a feature length video breaking down the fashion elements in The Triumvirate's costumes." There was a pause before he added. "Hero's as well."
"Seriously?" Vista asked. It sounded like something she should take a look at, particularly if she was going to see any level of rebranding or costume update after things settled.
The attention on the city and the Wards program may have been pretty negative, but at least it was stripping away the idea that she was some kind of precious little child cape. Videos of her weathering tinker tech blasts were circulating online. Sure, she had fought those kinds of battles before, but they were always either unfilmed or had her portions cut from the news. Now the world was seeing her for the cape she had fought to become. With everything that was unstable, everything that was in the process of falling apart or had already collapsed, it was one of the few positive things she could hold on to.
No more kiddy shit.
"Yeah, in fact…" Chris paused as he pulled up something on his display screen. "Early videos were either just direct demonstrations, or used basic music cues, but Garment found someone to do music for her recent stuff. Here."
A video began playing, some kind of truncated intro, scenes of clothes magically assembling themselves, close ups of stitching, fabrics magically transforming into a montage of outfits worn by the cape in question. Overtop of it played possibly the catchiest song Missy had ever heard. It was light but also had a weight and mystery to it. Every beat perfectly matched the cuts and even movements in the video with the tone rising and falling with the level of activity on screen. By the time Garment's logo and the title of the video appeared she was already humming along softly.
"Wow. Did she do that? I mean, I knew she was talented, but…" Blake just shrugged.
"No, she paired up with someone running some new music channel on YouTube. Boundless Music." Chris explained. "He plays instrumentals of original stuff and cover songs while wearing her outfits. Never shows his face, but you know, musicians."
"Yeah." Vista said. She had really hoped that Garment would end up joining the Protectorate, especially after her debut during the blackout. The fact that she effectively snubbed Sophia in favor of Flechette may have been a contributing factor, even if that cape was a bit much for the Ward's look. More than that, Garment was able to pull in public attention, manage images, and attract talent, all with minimal communication. It felt like something the city's Protectorate really needed, and something that could probably have made a big difference in how things had played out.
And how they would continue to do so. With HIM running circles around their every effort, with his team of strangers and monsters, and that really cute fighter pilot who was probably secretly evil. Or maybe he was mind controlled.
The point was, Garment felt like a point that could have stood against all the damning attention that had flowed their way. Maybe if they could have focused on the real problems instead of public relations they would have been able to do something about HIM before it was too late.
She took a breath and centered herself. Getting caught up reassessing the past week for the hundredth time wouldn't accomplish anything. Not when they had a host of future problems waiting for them.
"Is it true we're getting relief forces?" Blake asked. "I heard some of the PRT troopers talking about it."
Once again, Missy wondered what the structures of Browbeat's ears were like and how far he could push them if he wanted. People could get thinker ratings for night vision. God knows what Blake's would be if half the things she suspected were true.
"Sort of." Chris said. "Not officially announced yet, but Chicago is sending a Wards team down."
"More Wards?" Vista asked. Not that she would say no to having more heroes in the city, but Wards, under the same level of scrutiny and restrictions that people were bringing to them, that were waiting for them as soon as the emergency measures ended, it didn't seem helpful.
And that wasn't even getting into the Teeth. That situation was a nightmare that justified all the time that it was taking to frame it for the public. A team of Wards, even the best from a city like Chicago, wouldn't be deployed against something like that.
"Handpicked team, as I hear it. The leader and three others." Chris explained.
"Wait, the Chicago team leader's coming down?" Missy asked. "How are they going to handle the command structure? Integration into the teams?" The situation with Weld and Clockblocker was only barely holding because of the emergency measures and the split team model. And the lack of Sophia on their side of the split. That helped immensely. Adding four new Wards to the mix, along with a new commander sounded like a mess waiting to happen.
"They're not." Chris stated, pulling up some profiles. "The Chicago Protectorate is sending down Shuffle, their top shaker. The rest of the Wards are shakers as well. Well, Tecton is a tinker/shaker and Cuff is technically a striker/brute, but the team was put together to focus on shaker effects. Cleanup and recovery. They even brought in someone who was still being scouted, uh, Annex, breaker/shaker."
He turned from the profiles on his display. "It's a recovery team, under the same protocols you see during the aftermath of Endbringer attacks." The comparison didn't sit particularly well with Vista. "They're working for the city, not the local Protectorate."
The implications sank in. "Outside of Piggot's control." She said. Chris nodded in response.
"Is that bad?" Blake asked. "That's bad, right?"
"It means they don't trust her." Vista said. "Or don't trust her to deploy them the way that the national office wants them to be deployed." A sinking sensation struck her gut as another thought occurred to her. "Or they don't want them associated with what's happening in the department."
Chris sighed. "We don't exactly have the best reputation lately." He said. "Even aside from the attacks, the disasters, how things were handled. People are looking at the way things have been run." He swallowed. "They're looking for someone to blame."
"The focus on being a separate division, it's not a good sign." Vista sighed. "No one wants to be associated with the Protectorate in Brockton Bay."
With that cheerful statement an awkward silence settled over the group. The kind of clawing void full of hopelessness that she had been trying to avoid. She wondered how much of the earlier chatter had just been an attempt to hold that off, put on a front of things being normal, or at least having a hope of getting back that way.
Once again, Blake was the one who broke the silence, this time with a bombshell of his own.
"My parents are looking to transfer me." He said. "Once the emergency measures end. They're already looking at offers."
"Offers?" Vista asked, surprised.
He nodded. In his palm a spongy white patch formed, and then vanished back into his body. "The patch jobs got attention. Field healing. Being able to close wounds like that got people talking. It's not real healing, but some of the stuff I had to do was…" He tensed, taking a massive breath and letting it out slowly. "I can stop bleeding, and the patches are sterile, no chance of infection from them. It's not a cure all, but people want healers, and my parents want me somewhere safer."
Vista didn't know what to say. Chris looked up at the big cape. "Do you know where you're going?"
He shrugged. "I don't even know if they'll go through with it. I mean, I don't want to move, but the Wards were kind of sold as a support system. Learn your powers and avoid getting caught by villains patrolling on your own." His lips quirked down. "Caught again. Once was enough for my parents." He looked around. "Things haven't really played out the way they were sold to them."
Vista shook her head. It had felt like Blake was finally clicking with the team, working together in a way that felt natural. Now that was going to be torn away. It felt like there was no stable footing anymore; everything that used to be dependable, reliable, trustworthy, was being cast to the wind.
Even Armsmaster. The Protectorate leader was back, but only in the technical sense. Even with no inside information she could tell he was still recovering. Even so, he was spending more of his time with Dragon than on Protectorate business. Miss Militia was still the acting leader of the Protectorate ENE. Armsmaster wasn't chomping at the bit to get back in his lab and set the city straight. He was focused on other areas. Less detrimental areas.
If Armsmaster had written them off then it seemed like a true lost cause. Maybe not the end of the department, but the end of it as they knew it. There was the sense of a sinking ship, something that everyone seemed to recognize. The only difference being those who could ride it out and those set to go down with the ship. The entire thing reminded her of the buildup to her parents' divorce in the worst way possible.
It was something that she could recognize in spite of everything put in place by Mammon. The Enigmatic Artificer. The name cut into her head and she couldn't drown it out. She flinched, earning concerned looks from Chris and Blake, but managed to brush them off. Like all the other times it happened. Because of HIM.
Everyone singing HIS praises. With the upcoming announcement of the Butcher's presence and HIS team it would get even worse. She couldn't even keep the truth of him in her own head anymore. The invasive stranger power that should have confirmed his intentions, brushed aside like it was nothing.
She could hold out. She could remember what HE was, under all the flash and power. Everything he had put in place and set in motion. Maybe not as the master they had thought, or the level of thinker, but he was steering the ship, and everyone else was content to cheer as it sank, or wait on the sidelines to watch the show.