Side-Step EB
The clock ticked.
Not literally.
Her only clock was her PRT phone, which is obviously digital. That seemed worse in a way. At least a clock that ticked did something. Made some kind of noise.
She'd take anything really.
Her room fit the stereotype of a ten-by-ten cell, partially by being a perfect ten by ten. Came with a decent bed, dresser, closet, nightstand and desk. Didn't make it any less of a cell though.
The terrariums on the left hand side helped a bit.
Getting spiders to work together and weave anything felt like herding sheep with half a sheep dog. It annoyed her at first, but as the boredom and desperation set in she started to appreciate it. They always wanted to attack each other, or go off and do something else.
She needed to constantly push and prod them to stay on task. It got exhausting in its own way but for a time it supplied her with stimulation. It got a bit easier with time though, felt less stimulating.
Her bugs only helped a little, the little uglies.
So she expanded.
Her range covered the entire PRT building. She got to keep up with all the department gossip - scuttlebutt the troopers called it - and the fifteen or so affairs in the building made a decent replacement for reality TV.
Especially Joe in Accounting. That is a man who knows how to make a girl feel special, and it showed. She just wished he didn't do his deeds in the building. Her power never turned off and bugs are everywhere. Even when you can't see them. Especially when you can't see them.
Of course, if she said anything she'd lose her only readily available entertainment… and that just spelled how desperate she'd become for anything to do.
The zappers and tape they put up throughout the building already blinded her to large sections of it. Hard to direct every individual fly in the building and steer them away from the bright light they so badly wanted to approach.
calling… begin preparations… word out…
Armstrong seemed busy. She recognized his voice, and Hawke's as well. Hard to miss his stupid over-the-top drill sergeant impersonation. They talked about preparations or something. Some new plan to end the war with the Teeth? Or was it the war with Damsel of Distress? Hard to know.
No one kept her appraised of anything that mattered.
Sophia said being a Ward sucked. That the PRT, Protectorate, and Wards, didn't get how the world really worked. The latter problem needed to be expected. Almost no one knew how the world really worked. Or they didn't want to admit it.
But, Emma underestimated how much sucking sucked.
The clock 'ticked' to 6:58, and Emma sighed.
She focused on the terrariums. Just a few more minutes.
The Darwin's Bark Spiders finally came in. So Carly came through on that, at least. Naturally her agent - PR coordinator, same thing - wanted her to try producing clothing with them. Carly thought it might sell well as merchandise and give Emma's Ward persona something unique in Boston.
Not that it mattered.
As far as Boston knew the local Wards team consisted of thirteen members. Oh, 'Weaver' was listed on the website, but Emma didn't do photo-ops, PR events, or even basic patrolling.
Seven in the morning? Breakfast, and then tutoring.
Ten, court mandated meetings with a therapist, like she needed one.
Twelve. Lunch.
One, mandatory Ward training. About the only Ward activity she got to participate in beside console duty twice a week. And console duty still came with Weld or Spectre over her shoulder.
Four, her room. Until requested for dinner at six and then back to her room.
Every day the exact same day. The exact same routine. She didn't even know how many weeks now.
They'd literally built a prison for her.
6:59
It's all Taylor's fault.
Somehow, someway, the little worm got someone to listen to her. Sophia vanished, and then just like that creeper said, the police came for Emma. She felt pretty smart taking that gunk in the vile vial - ew - at the time. Figured she'd get to go be a lame hero for a few years and just break free at eighteen and be a cool hero.
Sophia's plan more or less.
That didn't last long.
Brutalizing her peers, the judge said. Deplorable behavior, blah blah blah look at me and the giant rod rammed into my asshole.
Three years juvenile probation, followed by five years mandatory 'community service.' To the PRT, that meant being in the Wards or Protectorate till she hit twenty-three. Hopefully that didn't mean eight years of… this.
She tried getting the Youth Guard to do something.
They backed off the moment the Director handed them a file. He showed her the contents afterward.
The federal statute on bio-terrorism.
It's like no one can take a fucking joke.
Of course they didn't. They didn't get it.
7:00
Emma reached over and grabbed the phone by her bedside.
Little to no free time from her room. No television. No Internet. Phone time was too precious. They only let her call numbers on a pre-approved list, and only at certain times of day.
She dialed the number and waited.
"Hello?" The voice asked.
"Anne!"
Emma used to think she and her sister had a fairly normal relationship. Sometimes having a sister felt great, and sometimes it seemed really lame. More the former than the latter lately.
Not much choice.
"Oh, hey, Emma. That time already?"
Emma nodded, for a moment, forgetting her sister couldn't see her.
"Yes," she said quickly. "Sorry. I'm-"
"Bored out of your mind?" Anne asked. "Figured."
7:01
Her phone time ended at nine. Two glorious hours of something.
"One sec," Anne said. "Cops, or Futurama?"
"Futurama," Emma said. Cops isn't much fun when you can't see it.
Anne raised the volume loud enough for Emma to sort of hear.
Emma pushed herself into the corner of her bed, back against the wall.
"So, how is it in Boston?" Anne asked. "Any different than yesterday?"
Emma huffed. "No."
"Come on," Anne said. "Something interesting must have happened."
Emma wished. "Same old same old. Carly wants me to be 'productive,' Dr. Flyn says I need to 'cooperate with my program,' and I had to look at Hunch's face while Reynard stared at my ass during a two hour presentation on 'managing threat in the modern parahuman environment.'"
"You can probably do something about one of those things. Maybe three."
Fat chance. Hunch kept trying to be 'nice' and Reynard? Well, he's no Greg Veder, but he's only a slight improvement. Dr. Flyn didn't have a clue.
Emma inhaled. "What about you? Anything happen in the Bay?"
"In the last twenty-four hours? No. It's been boring over here ever since the Protectorate toasted the Merchants and took out Cranial."
Emma pouted. "Newtype helped."
"Oh, sorry. I forgot."
"Don't tease me."
"Tease you? How can I not tease you about your girl crush?"
"It's not a crush!" Emma snapped. "It's just," - Newtype gets it - "you wouldn't get it."
"So you say," Anne replied.
Emma paused for a moment, directing a pair of spiders in her terrarium away from one another. If anymore died Carly would lecture her again, so she needed to keep them from fighting. Stupid little rascals.
"Watch your mail by the way," Anne said.
Emma tensed. "You got one?"
"Took me all week. Finally needed to camp outside the only store in town that has them. Punched some greasy guy in the face to grab the last one."
"Thank you!" Emma jumped up, forgetting the ceiling didn't quite go high enough and hit her head. "Ow?"
"What was that?"
"Nothing! You got it?"
"That's what I said. Comes in this neat box and everything. Packaged some of the tools the guy behind the desk said you'd need too. Since when are you into models?"
"I'm not really." Emma glanced around her spartan room. "But it's something to do."
The models are also made by Newtype. None of the other stuff traveling around the net and novelty shops themed around her was.
"Thanks, Anne."
"No problem. Hmm? Oh. Um."
Emma scowled. "What?"
"Dad wants to-"
"No."
"Emma-"
"NO."
Damn traitor.
Taylor might be a pathetic little worm who finally screamed loud enough, but he's the one who sold her out. Emma could have worked her way through that situation better than he did. She'd at least have read some of the documents before signing them. If he fought harder, maybe-
endbringer
Emma stopped and raised her head.
Did someone just say Endbringer?
Emma began sorting through the bugs. Hard to do with tens of thousands of them throughout the building. Her power kind of helped? Her mind naturally gravitated toward the ones she wanted.
on- way… ready shelters… prep…
Damn it. Easier to see through the bugs than hear, once you got used to their ugly little bug eyes. Armstrong should be a fat blob by the brown blob - a desk - and that would be Hawke by the door. Another figure in silver by the window.
Legend?
He came and went from the building all the time. Emma hardly believed she got to be in the same building as the man, but she never met him.
"Emma?" Anne asked.
"Shush. Turn down the TV."
She focused, trying her best to listen and sort out the sounds.
its all hands on… gather in the Agganis… set up medical… Leviathan…
Emma tensed.
Anne's voice came louder through the phone.
"Emma, what's wrong?"
"Endbringer," she mumbled.
"What?!"
Emma stepped off her bed, looking straight into the ceiling toward the conference room.
Armstrong. Hawke. Legend. A figure in black.
"It's happening right now," Emma mumbled.
Her heart sank for a moment.
The tension lingered in the background.
Leviathan was late. He should have attacked four days ago according to the Endbringer 'clock' but the PRT said that happened all the time. Everyone knew it was still coming, but… Actually standing in the moment…
"Emma," Anne snapped. "No! Do not-"
This was it.
Her chance.
Sophia said the capes got split up in Endbringer fights. Brute teams. Blaster teams. Support teams.
Search and rescue.
Bugs might do jack shit against Leviathan, but Emma always knew where everyone was. All the time. Bugs. Are. Everywhere. That's what she needed.
It didn't have to be big, or huge.
It just needed to make the news.
If she saved some people, got her name out, how could the PRT keep hiding her in the building? People would want to know where 'Weaver' was and why. The PRT wouldn't want to acknowledge anything about the probation publicly. Not outside of rumors.
Emma hung up.
She pulled her clothes off.
Her costume lacked any sense of elegance or fashion. Just a blue and silver body suit that showed off her stellar figure. White 'webs' crossed her torso arms and legs, and her mask was a plain cowl with big bug eyes. A single hole in the back let her hang her hair loose, a hood draped around her shoulders.
Carly called it an homage.
Unfortunately, it took the skintight part seriously. The ankle monitor made getting the boots on hard. Not overly big, but the black band didn't come off and rose enough off her skin that it took some working to get fully attired.
No sirens, so not near Boston. Maybe the west coast? Another country?
If she got lucky, the monitor might even break and she'd be able to slip away.
Depended on how things went.
Either way, not a chance to pass up.
Not like she'd actually go anywhere near the fucking monster. And Dad did sign the paper, like a good little weakling when the PRT put it in front of him.
Non-negotiable, they said.
Might actually pay off now.
Emma went to the door and waited, listening to the building as troopers began gathering. She spotted Carly in PR packing a box. Weird.
Eventually, the elevator at the end of the hall beyond her room opened, and the alarm sounded.
"Wards!" Hawke called. "Let's go! Front. And. CENTER!"
Emma stepped out after letting other doors open first, standing behind Boost and Harpoon as they emerged from the room they shared. Spectre brushed past her and joined Weld and Hunch at the front of the hall.
"What is it?" Boost asked.
Harpoon shook his head. "We're literally about to be told."
His eyes flickered back toward Emma for a second. He turned toward her, stared, and then turned back to the front of the room.
She didn't think the PRT said anything specific, but she wore a damn ankle monitor and never left the building. Everyone knew something happened, which just meant they all treated her like a freak. Except Reynard. He treated her like eye candy.
Whatever.
They're just sheep. Weld in his tank top, and Spectre in her goofy over sized hood. Hunch and his hunch, Reynard's stupid fox outfit, Harpoon's dumb fisherman thing. Especially, Hawke's stupid bird beak mask and drill sergeant attitude.
Bunch of losers.
Their opinions didn't matter. A few of them getting killed might even help get out of the building afterward.
"This is your port of call," Hawke said. "Leviathan is coming."
A few Wards looked around.
"But, that's the normal alarm," Reynard said.
"It is," Hawke said. "That's because for the first time in twenty years, we have forewarning."
Hawke raised his hand before any asked, saying, "You all know Newtype in Brockton Bay? The precog on her team can't observe the Endbringers, but apparently she can observe events around them. Newtype asks the girl everyday for the news headlines a week out. That gave us five cities."
Hawke raised his fingers one at a time.
"New York. Baltimore. Boston. New Orleans. Brockton Bay. We didn't hang our coats on any of that because Forecast's power is said to be a bit wild." He nodded to someone behind Emma. Roulette. "Kind of like you. However, that information went throughout the Protectorate. As of fifteen minutes ago a prediction algorithm created by Dragon and Armsmaster confirmed Leviathan's target."
"He's coming right here. To Boston. Within the next hour."
Emma stiffened. Maybe because she learned an Endbringer was coming right for her. Maybe because Hawke didn't drop that stupid drill sergeant tone at all.
"We're in overdrive Wards," Hawke said. "We've never had this much time to prepare for an Endbringer attack and we are using it. If you do not want to be in this battle, and no one will think less of you for it, here is where you tell me and I get you out of here. Takers?"
Emma's hand started to rise, but she forced it down.
Boston.
Leviathan was coming to Boston? Like the city didn't suck enough without the water-log. Though, maybe if it got trashed enough the PRT would move her somewhere else?
Boost raised his hand.
"Alright then," Hawke said in an even tone. "Anyone else?" He waited and when no one raised their hand he nodded. "Alright. Boost, with me. Spectre, get your team top side."
Hawke took Boost aside and Spectre pointed the Wards to the elevator. Hunch patted the boy on the back and smiled. He just hung his head like a proper coward.
"Everyone in," she said. "Let's go!"
Upstairs, Emma saw the most organized chaos of her life.
"Move those!" A trooper shouted. "We need that space, put them over there!"
"Make room for the teleporters!"
"We need a landing zone."
"Use the street outside!"
Emma followed the other Wards, squeezing through the crush of troopers, agents, and emergency responders. She saw Barricade on the lobby's second level speaking with Legend and Alexandria.
A brief memory flashed through her mind.
Taylor jumping on her bed with a black sheet tied around her neck.
"Weaver."
Emma turned, looking at Hunch's ugly face.
"What?" She asked.
"We need to go," he said.
Emma glanced around, realizing she'd stopped in the middle of the lobby, and people were staring.
Fuck.
She walked past Hunch, quickly spotting the other Wards gathered around Recoil. Having seen the woman unmasked, Emma generously called her an old lady, not that anyone guessed. She looked fit in her costume and none of her wrinkles showed.
"You're all still here?" She asked.
"Just Boost," Weld said.
She nodded, and turned to the cart behind her.
"In five minutes Strider, Port, and others are going to start bringing in capes from all over the world. There's nowhere in this building for us to address everyone who will show up, so we're gathering at the Agganis Arena."
"Split into teams," Spectre said. "I'll go with Gigant. Weld, take Harpoon. Phobos and Coup. Roulette and Rail. Reynard and Weaver."
"Weaver will go with me," Recoil said quickly. "Hunch is going straight to the center to join the other thinkers, so we'd be an odd cape out anyway."
Spectre nodded. Emma frowned under her mask.
"Take a box," Recoil said. "They're pamphlets with instructions on how to reach the arena. A lot of teams are transporting directly here and then moving. Hand them out at the teleport areas to everyone you can."
"Ma'am," Spectre said.
Recoil looked them over.
"It's going to be okay," she said. "Just be smart. Stick together. Listen." Emma lowered her gaze, seeing the woman's hand bound in a fist. "You'll be alright."
The other Wards left, and Emma stood alone with the old lady.
"You're staying with me for now," Recoil said.
Still being punished? In the middle of an Endbringer attack?
Recoil lifted a box and held it out to Emma. She frowned but made no fuss about it being dropped into her arms. Recoil took another and Emma followed her out of the building.
Emma decided it was worth it.
Fresh air. Clean fresh, albeit rainy, air. First time in weeks.
Not that it lasted long. Recoil ushered her into the back of a van, and after a long fifteen-minute drive, she spilled out into a wide open parking lot.
Someone turned on the Endbringer sirens. They blared in her ears, bringing back memories of school drills and hiding under her desk with Taylor.
A stadium rose ahead of her, with some nearby buildings and a moderately sized parking lot to her left. Signs around the area said "John Hancock Student Village."
The arena she guessed. She'd never seen it before. Guess it was part of a university campus?
"Clear!"
Troopers directed vehicles away from a section of the lot. Some of them set up cones along a wide perimeter, and others dragged boxes around and set up tents and tables.
The rain picked up, and Emma pulled her hood over her hair.
"Over here," Recoil said. "You should have left. You aren't prepared for this."
"I-"
"You're here now. So it doesn't matter, but this is serious. Most of the capes who die in these fights are the ones who've never done it before."
Like that mattered. Emma planned to stay far away from any monsters.
"Don't do anything stupid."
She led Emma toward the front entrance where two PRT agents set up a table and tent. It sat a bit off to the side of the big glass doors leading into the arena building.
"Recoil," one of the agents said. He glanced at Emma and nodded. "Help?"
"She's available," Recoil answered.
"Great."
The agents lifted a big box onto the table and opened it.
"These are wristbands used during Endbringer fights," Recoil said. "They're used to coordinate all the participating capes. Put this one on, hold down this button, and say your name. Your cape name."
Like she's an idiot.
Emma did as shown and held the wrist band to her face.
"Weaver."
A screen on the the band displayed the name and asked "yes/no." Emma hit yes.
"Good," Recoil said. She took one herself. "Now, tell everyone who enters the building to do the same thing. If they're a villain tell them that they will not be arrested for participating in this fight unless they abuse the truce. That's all you need to do. Stay here."
Recoil looked around for a moment and then walked off toward a group of troopers.
Emma scowled. Grunt work.
Eh. Whatever.
Emma leaned back in the chair and decided to just enjoy being outside.
With an Endbringer on the way.
…
Better than being in that damn room.
She reached out with her power, finding most of the bugs in the area either drowning or scurrying to find somewhere safe from falling water. Rain is kind of terrifying when the drops are bigger than you.
Emma pushed some towards safe places just so she didn't have to feel them die.
"Las Vegas Protectorate inbound," a voice announced over the PA.
Thunder rang in her ears, and the air swirled around her.
"Here we go," the second agent said. The older man looked down at Emma. "Ready?"
"Perfectly."
On the brighter side…
Emma saw so many capes.
Capes she'd seen on TV, or online, or in pictures. People she never thought she'd see in real life. Her bugs made it easier, especially ones hiding in the awning of the arena. They got a pretty good view of the closest teleport points and if she focused really hard their vision cleared up a bit.
Eidolon warped in at the head of the Houston Protectorate, Rebound, Dispatch, and Exalt right behind her. Alexandria and Legend flew over to meet her, and the three of them stepped aside. Cinereal and the Atlanta team arrived right after them, then Myrddin and the Chicago team. The Chicago Wards followed, led by Annex.
"Over here," the agents beside her started calling. "All capes check in here!"
She stole what glances she could.
"No," Emma said. "You won't be arrested."
The villain, a small boy in a raggedy outfit that barely seemed to qualify as a costume nodded and took the wristband from her. She wondered if he really was a cape or not, but not really her problem.
All around her light flashed, air cracked, and an odd smell expanded. Seriously, did some teleporter really spread a stink?
The names kept rolling in.
"Haven team inbound. Los Angeles Wards inbound. Madison reserve team inbound. Brockton Bay inbound."
Emma perked her head up at Brockton Bay. She tried to look through the growing crowd of troopers, emergency personnel, and capes.
She spotted Miss Militia first. American flags stand out, especially on a person.
"Armsmaster," Recoil called. She shook his hand and nodded to Miss Militia as they grew closer. "I'm here to escort Panacea to the triage center."
"Right here," the robed girl said.
Laserdream and Manpower flanked her. An escort? Emma didn't see anyone else from New Wave.
"Come with me please," Recoil said. "This way."
She handed all three heroes wristbands directly, and Armsmaster led his team and the Wards toward Emma.
She tensed for a moment.
Did they know?
"Sorry," Miss Militia said as she came up. "I don't recognize you."
"Um, Weaver. I'm new."
Emma glanced to Armsmaster. He'd been in the room when her dad signed the papers, but he didn't seem interested at the time. He didn't pay her any mind now.
Emma took some wristbands from the box.
"You know how to use these?" She asked.
"Yes," Miss Militia said. "Thank you. Be careful."
"Y-yeah."
Miss Militia handed the bands out. Emma saw the Wards. Aegis, Vista, Kid Win, Clockblocker, and Valiant.
Stratos moved toward a landing ship in the distance. A massive machine the size of a semi-truck and marked with Dragon's insignia.
The front end of the ship opened, Narwhal stepping out with Kaze behind her.
She'd be impressed by that, but, "Where's Newtype?"
Miss Militia turned. "Newtype?"
Emma flinched. "Um. I-"
"Oh, a fan?" Clockblocker asked.
Emma snarled as quietly as she could.
"She's not here," Armsmaster said. "She didn't arrive at the Rig before our teleporter arrived."
What? "Is she not coming?"
"We don't know," Miss Militia said.
"Lieutenant Ramius came," Vista said.
Emma didn't know why that mattered. A PRT trooper? Who cared?
No Newtype. Did Sophia get it wrong?
Emma frowned, watching the Brockton Bay capes move into the area with others. Emma kept handing out wristbands, spotting Hawke and the other Boston Wards a few minutes later. No one came toward her to say anything.
Figured.
"Hey."
Emma froze.
"You handing those out, or what?"
Shadow Stalker - Sophia - glared at her from behind her mask. Emma's words twisted in her throat. Sophia grabbed a band from the box beside Emma and mumbled something. Probably a threat.
Then she started to turn.
"Wait," Emma said.
Sophia froze. She snapped back around, and they both stared at each other for a few seconds before the line behind Sophia started pushing.
"Find me," she said.
Emma nodded.
Sophia got pulled away as the crowd grew deeper. Emma spotted some local villains she knew about, and more heroes she recognized. She focused on handing out wristbands, hoping the next might be the last and she could go inside and find Sophia.
The crowd started to thin, the rain pouring in buckets all around.
"Clear area left of entrance," the intercom announced. "Clear area left of entrance."
Left of entrance. Wait.
Emma raised her head and looked at the two PRT agents.
Did that include them?
A woman with brown hair started waving capes away. She stood further out from the building. Fifteen or twenty feet from Emma. A team of troopers set up orange cones. They cleared the area, and the brown haired woman stood in the open space.
Lifting her eyes, Emma saw a dot of light in the distance.
It grew each passing moment. The woman stepped aside and then the air whipped around her. The asphalt cracked, everyone nearby snapping around or taking cover. The shock wave rattled her bugs, scattering her head for a moment and making her dizzy.
Emma lowered her arms, watching the faint green light flutter around her.
The machine rose. Two shining eyes looked out from the dust, a V shaped crest mounted above them on the head's brow. The right arm swiped through the air, the dust billowing out and away.
Full Armor.
Astraea.
The words marked some of the plates covering the legs and chest, and the two big shields over either arm. Two large barrels stuck out from the right, and four tubes from the left. As the dust cleared more, Emma saw another barrel mounted over the machine's shoulder, and a missile pod.
It looked different, but the head crest made it unmistakable.
The brown haired woman stepped forward and patted the suit.
"Alright?" She asked.
"Yes," Newtype answered. "Sorry. Didn't decelerate as quickly as I'd hoped."
The brown haired woman nodded. She said something else, but Emma didn't pay attention.
It's completely different in person.
Nothing like the pictures online or videos in the news.
The suit stood two heads over most of the crowd, green light spilling out the back, and the eyes watching. Watching like they held some promise of retribution for anyone that crossed them.
Like a predator waiting for prey.
The suit stepped aside.
"One more," Newtype said. Her suit stepped aside, the arm pushing the brown haired PRT agent back with it.
One more?
Emma noticed the second dot of light a moment too late. The air whipped around her again, but not as fiercely as when Newtype arrived.
The second suit hovered an inch off the ground, white and gray in color. The entire frame looked thinner, lacking the other suit's heavy armor and weapons. In fact, Emma didn't see any weapons at all.
Just two wings on the back with little teeth on them.
Emma saw words etched into the shoulder, like those that marked Newtype's suit's armor.
Queen Gundam.
