Allegro 5
"What the hell is wrong with that thing!?" Gangsta sputtered. "Look at it! It's ugly as sin, might as well have gone through a woodchipper! Apart from that, it looks nothing like the boss!"
"Thank you. So much, Gangsta. Your kind words are such a boon to my self-confidence." The Composer deadpanned, glaring at her flatly.
"Eh, I'm just trying to be honest. Is that such a crime?" The Reaper asked innocently.
"It is if I-"
"GRAAAAH!"
SMASH!
The gathered capes and associates flinched as the monster in the street let out an all too wet-sounding roar as it retracted a warped, clawed arm enlarged by tattoo-flesh from the wall of one of the buildings it had attacked in a fit of rage. It then proceeded to hurl a chunk of stone and plaster at Trainwreck, who barely batted it away as he stumbled back from the creature.
"This is no time for jokes!" Kaiser snarled, glaring at Ballistic. "You. You're familiar with the monster that made that thing. What the hell is wrong with it?"
"I-I don't know!" The Traveler sputtered defensively. "It's not like there's an exact science! All we know is that when she touches someone, she makes a clone that's fucked up, and if they have powers then they come out fucked up too! But, well, while none of the clones she's made in the past have been stable by any stretch of the mind, they've never been this degree of batshit insane!"
The Composer was silent as she thought for a moment before groaning and ramming the heel of her palm into her forehead. "I... think it might have been driven insane... by my powers."
"Explain." Kaiser demanded flatly, with no small amount of accusation in his voice. "Now."
The chief Reaper gave him a flat glare in response. "Watch it, Kaiser. I assure you, I'm perfectly sane. It's just that my powers can be... disconcerting, without proper concentration. There's a reason why I always listen to music you know. If the first noise in that thing's head was a distortion of what's in mine..."
"GREEAAGH!"
"GAH! SOMEONE HELP ME WITH THIS THING, DAMN IT!"
The Composer winced as Trainwreck let out a distressed call when the creature scratched at his arm, trying its level best to rip-
SCRACK!
Ripping the arm straight off of his armor with a set of Drake-jaws that had interposed itself over its arm.
"Yeah, that. PURITY! BLAST THAT THING INTO THE PIT! WITH ANY LUCK, IT AND NOELLE WON'T GET ALONG!"
With a flash of light, the ex-neo-nazi flashed behind the creature and let loose a barrage of energy, sending it flying over the pit...
"GROOOAAAR!"
Where it was promptly caught by a tentacle and flung up and out of sight, screaming and flailing all the while.
"Well, that didn't work." Hop deadpanned.
"That thing is going to be back sooner or later, and it's going to be absolutely pissed. And I mean head-smashing pissed. It's how I'd react in a similar situation." The Composer stated grimly.
Tattletale breathed heavily as she bit her lip and massaged her temples for a moment before speaking. "Alright, we need to take care of that thing ASAP. If it escapes... yeah, I'd rather not have a roaming A-and-or-S Class threat, thanks. Composer-!"
"I'll handle it myself." The Composer growled darkly. "That thing is plagiarizing my good name, and not in a way I can even begin to approve of. It's my responsibility, I'll be the one to kill it. Tattletale, who do you think would best help me?"
The Parahumans and Reapers stared at her in shock.
"Boss, do you know what you're-!?" Gangsta sputtered.
The Composer silenced her with a raised hand. "Tattletale."
"I... uh... right..." The Thinker nodded slowly. "W-well... in that case... Bitch and her dogs are tough... Glory Girl can take a hit, though she'll need to be careful... and..." She cast an uneasy glance at Kaiser. "Hookwolf... should be strong enough... I suppose."
"Oh!" Hop piped up. "Take Uber too. Leet's been holding back the good stuff, he made some sweet Ultramarine armor! I think he could tank a tank!"
"Yeah... him too..." Tattletale nodded uneasily.
"Alright, good." The Composer nodded definitively. "Now, we need to figure out some way of getting everyone's atten-"
WOOP! "HEY, ASSORTED JERKS AND JACKASSES! GET YOUR BUTTS OVER HERE ASAP, WE'RE GONNA TALK STRATEGY!"
"Gah!" The Composer winced as she whipped her hands to her throbbing ears and cast a murderous glare at the male twin who was grinning impishly at her. "Where the hell did you get that megaphone!?"
"Why the hell don't you already have one?" Hop sniggered as he slid the miniature bullhorn back beneath his hoodie.
"I-! You-! That's-! Grgh!" The Composer flung her hands up in frustration as the rest of the assorted heroes and villains began to gather on or around the building she was perched on. "I'll deal with you later."
"You will try!"
"And you will fail!" Hip piped up as she joined her brother.
"FOR WE ARE-!"
"Very annoying..." Chicago groused from street-level before refocusing on his boss. "What's the plan, chief?"
"We're doubling down on that thing," The Reaper-in-chief ordered firmly. "Trainwreck, how's your armor holding up?"
The metal behemoth grumbled darkly as he rubbed the hole in his armor. "The stupid thing did a number on me, but I'll live. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not actually a part of this, I just power it after I slap it together. Should be able to just ram it back in."
The Composer nodded. "Good. Pull yourself together and get back to pummeling Noelle. The same goes for the rest of you. Blasters, Brutes, Shakers even, start laying in. I don't care what it takes or how much damage you cause to the city, just keep her in that pit until Armsmaster gets back from Protectorate Headquarters." She looked back at Tattletale. "I trust that whatever he has can put her down permanently, correct?"
The Undersider winced slightly before grinning foxily once anew. "Yeah! His thin- guh..." She faltered as the Composer levelled an uncharacteristically cold glare at her. "Y-yeah, she'll be down, I swear. I know it and so does he. He wouldn't have agreed to get it otherwise"
"Good," The Composer nodded slowly. "Good. Now..." She jumped off of the roof and landed heavily on the street below, the road cracking slightly under her newly kangaroo-like legs before they dissipated as she started to march forwards. "Hookwolf, Glory Girl, Bitch, Uber, you're with me. We're going hunting."
The four glanced at Kaiser, Brandish, Grue and Leet, or at least Leet's mecha, respectively before acquiescing and following her after receiving approval.
"So..." Glory Girl asked slowly. "What are we hunting exactly?"
"Me." The Composer snarled.
As the rest of the assault group watched the hunting party march off, Tattletale winced as she actively clutched her throbbing skull. "Right... t-they're going to need a bit of help. Squealer, Leet, get your rides firing on automatic and get over here. Miss Militia, Victor, you too. Trainwreck, how much power can you put out?"
-o-
"Oh yeah..." Uber nodded slowly as he played with the controls on the forearm of his armor. "I can hear her on the other side of this building. She's definitely here."
The group was currently gathered in an alleyway, awaiting the Composer's orders. They were all eager for action. Some more so than others.
"You know, I could just fly up and check, right?" Glory Girl grumbled.
"And you'd get spotted and shot down as a result." The Composer stated firmly. "That thing might be twisted and half mad, but it's still me. The last thing we want is for it to get wind that we're about to attack it."
"How bad could that thing be?" Bitch grumbled, her dogs whining and sniffing around.
"If it has my powers? Very. I'm not trying to gloat, I'm just stating facts. I have a lot of powers." The Composer started to count down on her fingers. "Super strength, teleportation, flight, pyrokinesis, projectiles, enhan-GRK!" She suddenly froze in abject horror.
"What?" Hookwolf rumbled from within his metal casing.
The Composer swallowed heavily, her frame shaking nervously. "E...enhanced... hearing..."
Suddenly, Uber's arm squawked out a furious warning. "What the-!?"
"MOVE!" The Composer ordered, encasing her legs in Boomer legs and leaping away.
Bitch gave a sharp whistle, causing her and her hounds to leap up to the rooftops, Glory Girl flew upwards, followed closely by Uber courtesy of a blast of flame from his backpack, and Hookwolf jumped backwards faster than most guys his size could have.
BOOM! "ROOOAAAR!"
Not a moment too soon. Seconds after they'd moved, the wall they'd been standing by exploded outwards in a hail of brick, metal and other assorted construction materials. Standing in the dust cloud was the clone, snorting and growling furiously as the warped rhino-head that had replaced its arm devolved into energy, as well as the pair of bat ears plastered to the side of its head.
Suddenly, it snapped its bald, raw head to the side, staring straight at Hookwolf. In response, the E88 cape exploded outwards in a maelstrom of metal and fury. A maelstrom that was hit head-on by a flurry of teeth, claws and fangs.
When they met, the two opposing clashes pretty much merged into a senseless ball of violence, blood and fury. But no matter how much flesh and matter Hookwolf carved out of the monstrosity, it didn't seem to matter. It just kept coming and coming and coming, without so much as a hint of slowing down.
Finally, Hookwolf had enough. With a large shove of his metallic appendages, the neo-nazi launched the abomination straight upwards, leaving it flailing and howling in sheer, uncontrolled madness. However, before it could start to descend, a pair of wings, one with faux-feathers and one with distorted skin stretched out between bone. The wings flapped once, twice, keeping it aloft...
"GET IT!"
And was promptly rammed out of the sky by the combination of a large, mutated canine and a volatile ballistic bombshell. As a result, the creature was brought down into the middle of the street with a resounding, asphalt-shattering smash.
"Blast the damn thing!" Uber shouted, unslinging his lasgun and firing off several bolts of pure, focused light at the body. The Composer joined him by blasting several quills from her arm which detonated the moment they made contact.
After a full minute of firing, the pair ceased, Uber due to the barrel of his gun becoming too red for his comfort and the Composer because she couldn't keep her arms up anymore.
As the smoke dissipated, Glory Girl landed next to the pair, while Bitch and her dogs and a fully metal-encased Hookwolf stepped up behind them.
"Is it dead?" Bitch grumbled.
Finally, the smoke dissipated, displaying the charred and inert... chunks that were laying in the remains of the street.
"Sure looks dead to me." Hookwolf rumbled, the grating in his swirling metal body imitating speech with disturbing accuracy.
Glory Girl started to nod before freezing. "If it's dead..." she asked slowly, her voice low with horror. "Then why is it still moving!?"
Unfortunately enough, she was right. Both flesh and Noise alike were shifting and crawling, extending to slowly interconnect the pieces of the burnt and devastated body. Dauntingly, unerringly, the pieces began to draw themselves upright.
"Fun fact..." The Composer breathed numbly. "Jellyfish can regrow their limbs. Just a... little tidbit is all."
"I fucking hate Chaos daemons..." Uber moaned.
"You can do that!?" Glory Girl choked in horror.
"Hell no!" The Composer defended hastily. "Or at least, I don't think I can! I've never been pushed that far! I've got a grab-bag's worth of power, but I don't know if regeneration is one of them! This thing is using my powers in ways I didn't know I possibly could!"
"ROAR!"
"Watch it!" Hookwolf snarled, grabbing Uber and the Composer by their backs with the bluntest metal he had and yanking them back from the edge of the roof.
Moments later, the crushed body of a car rammed into the edge of the roof where they'd been moments earlier, causing no damage other than a strong blow to Glory Girl's pride when it knocked her flat on the rooftop.
"Ow!" She yelped, rubbing the back of her head as she tried to sit up before freezing in place. "Wait... 'ow'!?"
The Composer tentatively stepped forwards, glanced over the edge... and promptly jerked back to dodge an equally viciously-thrown mailbox. Finally, she managed to catch sight of her clone grasping a chunk of asphalt with a multitude of tentacles that were protruding from its body.
"See? Like that." She observed weakly before ducking back away from the roof as the stone occupied where her head was moments before.
"That hurt?" Glory Girl sputtered. "How the hell did that hurt?!"
"Alright, so that thing is intelligent and it's not very willing to die." Uber summed up. "What the hell do we do now!?"
"Keep beating it down until it stops moving." Bitch growled.
The other hunters glanced at one another before they all shrugged.
"That could work." Uber nodded.
"It's worked before." Hookwolf admitted.
"Sounds like a fair plan." The Composer shrugged.
"I've tanked worse than that! There's no freaking reason that should have hurt!"
"Good. Now, first order of business!" The Composer started before freezing as realization set in. "Why isn't not-me throwing things at us anymore?"
She was answered by a trio of tentacles rising up above the lip of the roof and plunging down into it before straining as they started to haul something up.
The Composer let out a low whistle as she stared at the pseudo-flesh limbs. "Wow, this thing is learning fast."
The rest of the attackers jumped backwards, Uber catching Glory Girl as he went, in order to evade the mass of flesh and rage that lunged up at them. Only the Composer remained unmoved.
SLAM! "ROAR!"
The other four flinched at the noise... and slowly opened their eyes when nothing more came of it.
"Lucky for me..." The Composer grit out, two of the tattoo-elephant trunks sticking out of her back digging into the rooftop behind her while the other two fought to hold back the thrashing clone. "I learn fast too." And with that, she took the trunks digging into the roof out from behind her and, in one fast motion, slipped them beneath the clone's body and proceeded to flip it over her, launching it clear to another rooftop.
Glory Girl cocked an eyebrow as she watched the body fly and impact against another roof. "Damn, that's some good air. I should know, I have tons of experience flinging this dingus around." She jerked her thumb at Uber.
"Har har, you're a riot." The game-enthusiast groused.
"GRAAARGH!" The clone screeched, scrambling to its feet, its rear-limbs morphing into amphibian legs whereas its arms morphed into dog legs that started to paw at the roof.
"No more talking!" Bitch ordered, letting out a sharp whistle and prompting her hounds to bound towards the monster with a trio of vicious howls.
"So, just confirming, the plan is to beat its head against the pavement until the twitching stops?" Glory Girl queried.
"I'm gonna guess that won't be a problem?" Hookwolf ground out.
"A chance to totally let loose? You're damn right it won't!" The heroine laughed, eagerly slamming her fists together as she floated into the air.
"Try not to enjoy yourself too much, would you?" The Composer asked wearily. "Ugly as it might be, that's still my face you're wailing on."
"Yeah yeah, I'll make sure not to have too much fun." Glory Girl griped before joining the fray, snapping open a bear-claw that was trying to crush a dog in its grip.
Hookwolf angled his faux-head at the Composer. "You realize that she's still going to-?"
"Just go." She ordered.
Hookwolf let out a bark of laughter as he sprang across the gap between the buildings and proceeded to dig his hooks and blades into the clone's chest.
"We're the only sane people present, aren't we?" Uber asked flatly.
"Just pick and choose your shots." The Composer replied in the same tone as she raised her arms and trunks, flesh and pseudo-flesh alike bristling with corehog quills.
Uber cocked his lasgun. "Fair enough."
The two proceeded to unleash a barrage of projectiles, both physical and energy-based alike, at whatever portions of the clone were free to strike.
The brawl was violent, but even with all five Parahumans contributing to their fullest, nothing seemed to come of it. The monstrosity continued to struggle and fight, without showing so much as a hint of letting up anytime soon.
All of a sudden, Uber ceased his firing and brought his hand to his helmet. "Leet, I'm a bit busy here, could you-!? What? I- are you kidding!? Do you have any idea-? Are you sure that-? Alright, alright, fine, I'll pass it on, keep an eye out!" Uber brought his hand off his helmet and looked over at the Composer. "Leet says that the others have a plan. We need to get that thing into the air, high enough that they can see it from where that first thing was."
"What!?" The Composer squawked as she snapped her head towards him. "How the heck would we do that!? I can't even imagine how Hookwolf managed to do it the first time! Look, we have it pinned, why change n-?"
"GRAGH!" THWACK!
"Watch it!"
"GRGH!"
"WOOF!"
Without warning, the clone's body suddenly surged outwards, lashing out and sending Hookwolf, Glory Girl and Bitch and her dogs flying back onto their roof. Then, it proceeded to crouch down on all fours and start to... grow, its Noise-flesh steadily expanding and throbbing over its body.
The Composer stared at the display in confusion for a second before stiffening in horror. "Ooooh fuck me."
"What? What is it?" Hookwolf groaned as he clawed his way back upright.
"Remember what I said earlier in Coil's base about how my Goth Metal Drakes weren't the best I had?" She asked quietly, flinching visibly as static started to spark in the air around the clone. "Unless I miss my guess, that's my best."
"On a scale of one to 'we're fucked', how screwed are we?" Glory Girl asked.
The Composer's expression went slightly lax as she stared into empty space. "Fugly Bob's is about a quarter mile from here, isn't it?" She mused to herself. "If we survive this, I will really miss eating there."
Uber bit out a curse before addressing the others. "We need to get that thing as high up as we can, now!"
The Composer shook herself out of her stupor and nodded in agreement. "It's a crazy plan, but it's a plan. Bitch, hold her down!"
The Undersider started to protest... and was firmly shot down by the very firm glare the Reaper shot her.
"Now, Bitch!" She ordered.
Bitch tightened her jaw, but nevertheless let out a sharp whistle, sending her dogs leaping to the other building and prompting them to rip as much flesh from the clone as they could. Flesh that grew back almost faster than they could tear out.
"Hookwolf, get under her and spring her up as high as possible. Glory Girl, you and me will grab it and fly. Uber, tell them we're going up!" She continued.
Hookwolf pounced across the gap, coiling his metallic body around and under the mass of flesh. The metal grew and compounded beneath the clone for a few seconds before abruptly exploding upwards, launching the clone a dozen feet into the air.
Glory Girl flew up to catch the monster, followed closely by the screeching form of a Cornix Canor. They gripped at the flesh as tightly as they could, talons digging into the flesh while fists pounded it back wherever it tried to squirm free.
As the pair started their ascent, Uber tapped the side of his helmet twice, sending a pair of clicks through his radio.
Glory Girl and the Composer flew upwards as swiftly as they could, crossing dozens of feet almost every other second.
Finally, they halted once the cityscape was but a quilt of urban expansion beneath them.
Glory Girl swallowed heavily as she observed the static-covered... thing that the gargantuan bird was clutching. "You think we're high enough?"
The Composer shrugged helplessly from atop her mount. "Hell if I know. I just hope that we are, because if this thing does what it's planning to do, then we are thoroughly-WOAH!"
"HOLY SHIT!"
The pair let out cries of shock and surprise when a pillar of searing hot, volatile energy lanced up from somewhere in the city and shot straight through the clone, leaving a hole directly through it whose edges were glowing red and seared shut from the intensity of the attack. There was only a second of peace before over a dozen similar shots systematically, unerringly and utterly devastated the clone. When all was said and done, the scant few smoking bits of flesh that remained tumbled out of the giant noise's claws towards the earth.
They did not move again.
Both the Composer and Glory Girl stared at where the monstrosity had been seconds earlier until one of them managed to speak.
"Pardon my french..." The superheroine whispered. "But what in the everloving fuck was that?"
-o-
Victor and Miss Militia sighed simultaneously as they leaned back.
"Thank god..." Miss Militia breathed.
"Tell me about it." Victor nodded jerkily. "I am never going skeet shooting again for as long as I live..."
"Yeah, yeah, that's great and all..." Trainwreck rumbled through his armor. "But now would ya mind getting the fuck off of me before I toss you the fuck off!?"
"Gah!"
"Alright, alright, keep calm!"
The hero and villain hastily scrambled off of Trainwreck's back, stepping away from the mechanical behemoth as he got up from his hands and knees and rolled his shoulders, the weapon he was sporting shifting around minutely.
The rail-cannon had been altered, moved from being positioned on his shoulder to the middle of his back. The prongs doubled in length, joined by an additional pair rotated at a ninety degree angle to form a square of somewhat ragged metal, electricity occasionally sparking between the tines, and the base itself at least fifty percent bigger and thoroughly stabilized.
"Still..." The solo villain grunted. "The position might have been embarrassing as all hell and the gun might be a helluva drain, but it's still pretty sweet... I'm gonna take a flying guess and say that you heroes aren't lettin' me walk out of here with it under any circumstances, huh?"
"What was your first guess?" Assault deadpanned. "The fact that it managed to shred that thing a quarter mile away and up or that it took two different Tinkers to make it?"
"Three, fucker. I made this suit and cannon with goddamn scraps."
"But still." Leet spoke up wearily from on top of his mecha. "There's another reason why you won't be able to take it."
"Huh?" Trainwreck blinked at him. "What?"
"Those two fired about a dozen shots, so three... two.. one..."
The souped-up rail cannon practically imploded, its casing crumpling under its own weight and one of its tacked-on tines falling off entirely.
"Holy fucks!" Squealer swore, jerking backwards unsteadily. "The fuck was that, dumbass?! I didn't see you put in no fucking self-destruct when I was working on the damn stabi-whatsits!"
"That's because I didn't." Leet deadpanned. "That was my third high-precision and impact energy weapon. The fact that it was centered around electromagnets helped, but frankly? That it lasted as long as it did was nothing short of a miracle. You have no idea how glad I was when those two figured out how to no-scope using Othala's stuff."
"Speaking of these 'gifts'..." Miss Militia rubbed her forearm over her eyes. "Mind telling me when I can expect this to go away? It was useful in the moment but..."
"Two minutes." Victor cut Othala off the second she started to speak. "Give or take."
"Yeesh..." Gangsta whistled. "Enhanced eyesight, future-vision, is there anything that you can't give?"
"Actually!" South spoke up hastily as he noticed the other Empire capes present eyeing the mouthy Reaper. "How about none of you respond to that question in any way and we can all leave here in a civil manner, alright?" He punctuated the statement with a swift rack of his shotgun.
Victor shrugged and raised his hands in surrender. "Fair enough."
Gangsta looked at South with visible awe. "That... was badass."
"I'm from Texas." The large Reaper shrugged. "Any good Texan barkeeper worth their salt's learned how to keep the peace, someway somehow, sooner or later."
"Anyways..." Grue coughed into his fist as he watched the Blasters and armored vehicles continue to lay hellfire into the pit, the beast below not even remotely sated as it continued to shriek and rage furiously. The battle had taken its toll on their surroundings: the very foundation of the street was messily cracked, and the buildings were starting to become unstable. As such, the Parahumans had elected to move down to street-level for the time being. "What do we do now? I don't want to test my luck on how long we can keep this thing down there. Does anyone know how long it'll be until Armsmaster gets here?"
"It should be any second now, if Tattletale was right when all this started..." Faultline checked her watch. "Still... are we sure that whatever he has with him will be enough?"
"Oh yeah, it will, don't worry..." Tattletale moaned from where she was sitting, slumped against a streetlamp as she idly massaged her pounding temples. "It definitely will. No way in hell she'll be able to bounce back. He was saving it for an Endbringer. Look at the bright side: technically, he's using it for what he intende-"
"GOBS TOPSIDE!" The Parahumans jumped in shock when Trickster suddenly started shouting at the top of his lungs. "TOPSIDE! GOBS TOP-MMPH!" Anything more he was about to say was cut off by Oni Lee warping in front of him and shoving his hand in his mouth.
"Why didn't anyone gag him again?" Grunge demanded irritably.
"I think that we were all trying to forget about him..." Battery admitted before looking at Ballistic. "What did he mean by 'gobs topside'?"
The ex-Traveller shrugged flatly. "Hell if I know. It's just a code-phrase that we all used back during our gaming days. We used it to indicate the-!" He choked off and his stance became rife with horror. "The location... of enemies..." He breathed slowly.
Victor's head suddenly snapped up. "MOVE! NOW!" He bellowed.
The warning came too late. Before anyone could react, a small but fast tentacle whipped out over the edge of the pit, beelining directly towards Tattletale, who could only stare at the limb in abject terror.
SCHINK!
"GROOOAAAR!"
Tattletale shuddered in horror as she stared at the tentacle flicking and grasping at the air inches from her face. The only thing keeping her from a slow and no doubt gruesome fate was a blade of stainless steel protruding from Kaiser's gauntlet rammed through the skin and muscle of the tentacle.
"Is that really the best you have?" Kaiser drawled in a bored manner.
Noelle's response came in the form of the tentacle twisting to the side and firmly wrapping itself up along his arm.
The nazi-leader's eyes shot wide beneath his mask. "Oh son of a-!" That was all he got out before he was suddenly yanked off his feet and dragged towards the pit.
"KAISER!" Stormtiger yelled. The aerokinetic moved to send a wave of air at the tentacle, but was forced to redirect the attack when a small forest of tentacles rose up and redoubled their assaults.
The attack was so violent and so sudden that none of the other Parahumans or Reapers were able to react appropriately and liberate Kaiser. Luckily, the amount of movement and activity cluttering the air prevented Noelle from simply lifting Kaiser up and whipping him into the pit, forcing her to drag him along the ground.
About half a dozen feet from the edge, Kaiser finally got his wits about him. Reacting entirely on instinct, he brought up a pair of metal plates in front of his feet upon which to brace himself and a blade from his free hand which he stabbed into a crack in the ground. The resistance served to halt his forward momentum... for all of a moment, until he felt what little remained of the stone beneath him shift and give minutely, and his body burn and scream with pain.
Kaiser winced and gasped as he fought to keep himself in place. Anything to stay alive. Anything to keep out of the pit and away from the monster.
In a single, earth-shattering, heart-dropping moment, he felt the plates snap beneath his feet.
VROOM!
THUNK!
"GROOOAAAR!"
Suddenly, Kaiser felt the grip on his leg go free and felt a large hand grip his shoulder, yank him to his feet, and drag him away from the pit faster than humanly possible.
Finally, as swiftly as the madness had started, it subsided, the Parahumans severing and beating back Noelle's limbs.
Kaiser gasped in relief as he was hauled to his feet, blindly reaching out and grasping the shoulder of his savior. "T-thank you..." He wheezed. "How can I repay-?"
"Don't mention it."
"No, no..." Kaiser shook his head flatly. "This is... a matter of honor, I need to do somet-"
He was interrupted by a solid grip on his chestplate yanking him around and bringing him within inches of Armsmaster's visor. "Ever."
Kaiser stared at the hero mutely for a moment before nodding firmly. "I fully support that course of action."
"Good." Armsmaster released the supervillain and lightly shoved him back from his motorcycle.
Kaiser made a show of wiping off his armor before addressing the hero. "So, the weapon you went to retrieve?"
Armsmaster nodded and hit a button on his bike's handlebars, causing a compartment to open in front of him, from which he retrieved a softball-sized sphere of metal. "Right here."
"Oh good..." Tattletale breathed in relief. "You got-!"
"If you say 'the thing', I will frogmarch you to the Birdcage and personally introduce you to your cellmate." Armsmaster deadpanned.
Tattletale grinned nervously in response, uncomfortably aware of the fact that Armsmaster was a little more than half-serious.
"So what the hell is our current saving grace, anyways?" Newter asked bluntly as he looked at the device.
"It's a bomb." Armsmaster stated bluntly.
"There is no way in hell that bomb will be able to take her out." Chicago deadpanned.
"It's one of Bakuda's bombs." He clarified flatly.
"There is a very fair chance that bomb will be able to take her out." Chicago deadpanned.
"There's just one problem." Armsmaster went on.
"Of course there is!" Grunge exclaimed, swinging his arms wide.
"The bomb's detonation isn't instant. All I could manage was to reconfigure it to activate ten seconds after manual activation. And for maximum impact, it'll have to detonate at practically point-blank range."
"Ten seconds..." Ballistic swallowed uncomfortably. "Noelle's reaction time is less than one, snap judgements and decisions. She could catch it and toss it out."
"What if Othala gives me advanced reflexes?" Victor offered. "Tinker powers naturally amp intelligence. I sap some of it, calculate the angle and timing; my curveball was mean even before I triggered."
"Or me, boss." Velocity zipped up next to Armsmaster in a blur of red. "Believe you me, we speedsters have timing down pat. I could get it in and out before she knew what hit her."
Psycho and Oni Lee warped into existence, both with a hand outstretched.
Armsmaster frowned and shook his head definitively. "No. Detonation might not be instant, but the effect is. We don't have any room for error. If you're caught within a thirty foot radius of this thing... you'll either be dead or sorely wish it. And that's not even mentioning that we only have one shot at this."
"We need to find some way to trick her, phase her, put her off her game, ensure she doesn't react in time..." Brandish reasoned.
"How do we put that!" Grunge indicated the roaring, snarling demon. "Off its game!?"
"What if we had a flier take the bomb up and drop it at the right time?" Grue offered.
"Or we could feed it to one of our bigger Noise!" Hip suggested, summoning up a Grunge Wolf.
"She's been having fun swallowing them up to now, why not turn it against her?" Hop snarled defiantly.
Armsmaster shook his head. "There's still no guarantee that-HEY!" He was cut off by a large limb of garbage snatching the bomb from his hand. "Mush! Give it back, now!"
"Listen to the pig, fuckbucket!" Skidmark ordered.
Mush ignored them both, numbly looking over the device. "How do I turn this thing on?" He mumbled out through his armor.
"There's no way I'll tell you-!"
"TWIST IT!" Tattletale shrieked, visibly clutching her head. "TWIST THE TOP AND BOTTOM HALVES IN DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS AND PUSH THEM TOGETHER!"
Mush's limbs immediately did so, causing a red light to shine from the device's hemisphere. In the same instant, he brought Trickster up from the portion of his mass where he'd been imprisoned, yanked the front of his shirt forwards and shoved the bomb down his collar. Then, he hauled his arm back and heaved, flinging Trickster through the air and into the pit.
The Parahumans stared at the display in shock for a moment until Grunge got his wits back. "FALL BACK!" He bellowed, his voice not even brooking a hint of argument as he started to run as fast as his feet could carry him. "EVERYONE HAUL ASS, NOW!"
The rest were all too happy to comply, Squealer's vehicle and Leet's mecha shaking the earth as they rumbled away from the blast zone, followed closely by a small crowd both on foot and in the air alike.
-o-
Rip. Maim. Kill. Consume. Vengeance. Hate. HATE. HA-!
THUMP! "GAH!"
Noelle was yanked out of her reverie by a weight suddenly slamming into her main body, a familiar voice crying out in shock. Acting on base instinct, Noelle clutched at the projectile and tried to get a better look at it. "Krouse?" She breathed in shock.
Krouse stopped struggling and stared at her numbly. "Noelle?"
The seconds stretched into eternity as they stared at one another.
Fortunately or unfortunately for them... even eternity had to come to an end.
-o-
There wasn't any noise when it happened. No detonation in any meaningful way, no grand, earth-shattering explosion. If anything, the greatest sign of the bomb activating... was the removal of a factor.
After so much fighting, so much struggling, the greatest shock to all present which stopped them in their tracks... was the silence.
It all stopped, all at once. The shaking, the roaring and howling, the chaos, all of it. It just... stopped.
Slowly, the Parahumans turned around... and stared.
A bubble of what appeared to be amber encased where they had all been mere seconds ago. The area was see-through, if a little foggy. Everything within its confines, the tentacles, the few Twisted Noise that hadn't been killed, all of it. They were all... stopped. Suspended.
The Parahumans barely acknowledged the return of the Composer and the rest of her group. They silently joined their comrades in observing the edifice before them.
Faultline was the first to speak. "Is there any chance of that... thing digging itself out?"
Armsmaster shook his head slowly. "None. That's not really matter, per say. That was a time bomb, or the closest thing to it in existence. Essentially, it replicated Clockblocker's ability within an area-of-effect, save that as far as Dragon or I can tell, it's permanent. If it ever does come undone, I can assure you that it won't be during our lifetime, or during that of generations to come."
Silence stretched on for a moment until the Composer spoke up. "So... it's over?"
"Hang on..." Chicago dug his phone out of his pocket, tapped a number and brought it to his ear. "Freestyle. We're fine, the situation's been dealt with. What's your status?"
-o-
The Parahuman Reaper shrugged as she toyed with her veil. "Things are moving along just fine, Chicago. Tattletale's information was good, we managed to find the safe houses without trouble and catch the majority of them with their pants down. I 'convinced' each of them to tell us the truth and they all admitted to working for Coil. We're on the last half-dozen or so, so- oh for the love of- one second!" She cut herself off in exasperation when the sound of scuffling broke out behind her. "Could you please shut them up?!" She shot over her shoulder.
Anarcho grunted in response, reeling back and ramming the butt of his paintball gun into the face of the struggling mercenary he was trying to restrain, while a woman in valkyrie armor expertly swung her spear around and clubbed another soldier in the back of his head.
"Thank you!" Freestyle sighed, receiving nods of acknowledgement from Anarcho and Menja before turning . "Anyways, we're all good here. We'll finish up here and call you we're done"
"Good."
-o-
Chicago hung up and raised a shaky thumbs-up.
Tattletale sluggishly gave a single nod. "Yeah. It's over."
"Good." And with that, the Composer proceeded to keel over and collapse onto her back.
The rest of the group looked at her in shock for a moment, but none voiced any concern or shock as they too realized just how tired they were and collapsed in turn, several fliers outright letting themselves drop out of the air once they were a few feet away from bliss.
And so it was that the vast majority of the Parahuman population of Brockton Bay, from the all-powerful Kaiser and Armsmaster to the lowly Skidmark and Leet, came to find itself on the same street, at the same time, lying prone on the ground as they tried to regain their breaths and feel anything, anything other than sheer exhaustion.
For all of ten seconds, the only sound was everyone's collective breathing. Then... laughter.
Later, no one would be able to say who started first. All they knew was that someone started to laugh. A small, dry, relieved chuckle at most. Then another person started to laugh. And another and another, each with more and more and more force than the last until finally, everyone in the street, hero, villain, mercenary and Reaper alike, was just laughing and laughing and laughing their heads off.
Laughing at what they'd just lived through. Laughing at the fact that they'd survived. Laughing from the sheer, irrepressible joy of simply being alive.
They were still laughing when Panacea, Dauntless, Cricket, Night and Fog arrived, resulting in the group staring at the sight in awe.
"Uhh... this is..." Dauntless idly scratched his head through his helmet.
"What the hell happened here!?" Panacea sputtered in disbelief.
"Oh, that's an easy one." Tattletale hummed airily, striding up to the healer with her fingers interlocked behind her head. "It's the adrenaline streaming out of them. They're giddy at the fact that they all just not only survived but actually beat a borderline S-class threat. All with no friendly casualties. You've gotta admit, this is kind of... unprecedented. 'Course, it was really my plans that saved the day, so it's not that much of a shocker, is it?"
Panacea eyed the Thinker warily. "Tattletale... you've been using your powers all day, right?"
"Yeah, what about it?"
"Then... why aren't you cussing from the 'unholy headaches' you told me about?"
"Oh, that's an easy one!" Tattletale smiled drunkenly as she started to slightly sway on her feet. "Adrenaline! Lots and lots of adrenaline! I've been ignoring it for the past five minutes or so! Of course, that means that I'm going to blackout in approximately five seconds when it burns out of my system, but hey, whatever." The blood suddenly drained out of her face and her expression went slack. "And there it goes. Night ni-huh?"
She was cut off by Panacea tapping her on the forehead, square in the middle of her brow. Tattletale blinked numbly for a second before beaming and engulfing the healer in a rib-cracking hug. "Thankyouthanktyouthankyouthankyou!"
"No problem..." Panacea wheezed, her voice mostly unimpeded due to the fact that she was used to much more painful hugs from her sister.
"Pardon me, but I was under the impression that brains laid outside of your area of expertise." Night inquired in a slightly too polite tone.
Panacea shrugged as much as she could in Tattletale's grip. "There aren't actually any nerve endings inside the brain. All I did was alleviate the pressure in her head's blood vessels."
"And I am soooo grateful for that!" Tattletale... she would later vehemently deny it, but everyone else would say that she squealed.
Eventually, the surviving Parahumans' laughter subsided, leaving everyone fighting to regain their breath once anew.
"So..." Skidmark was the first to speak, jabbing his thumb out of Squealer's truck at Mush, where the rest of the Travelers were still held. "The fucking hell do we do with the rest of 'em?"
"For the record!" Ballistic hastily raised a hand. "The Travelers are pretty much disbanded. Me, Sundancer, Genesis and Oliver, we mainly stuck under Krouse for Noelle's sake. But now that that's been shot to hell... look, we don't want any trouble, alright?"
A minute amount of tension appeared as the rest of the Parahumans considered the statement before South spoke up. "Bah, c'mon! They're just kids. The worst of the stuff they did, they did under either Trickster or Coil's orders for their friend's sake. Cut them some slack, would ya?"
The others considered this for a moment before giving signs of assent with varying amounts of actual agreement.
"So what the heck are you guys going to do now?" Regent snidely inquired. "I mean, I don't know about you, but I don't think that there's a high demand for ex-supervillains at Fugly Bob's."
Ballistic shook his head indifferently. "Hell if I know. Bounty-hunting, maybe? My powers are good in a fight, so am I, so what the hell, why not?"
"Or!" Assault piped up. "Less suicidal option! How about you join the Protectorate? It worked well for me!"
"Assault!" Battery hissed, but was cut off by several of the villains busting out in uproarious laughter.
"I told you fuckers it was him, I fucking told you!" Skidmark howled.
"Madcap, you son of a bitch, we missed you back up in Brooklyn!" Stormtiger laughed.
"Do not worry, we will not tell anyone." Gregor chuckled. "Assault's old identity was an unconfirmed secret that many of us suspected, we will not betray our old comrade."
"Ah, you old shitsacks." Assault smirked before clapping Ballistic on his back. "But anyways, yeah! Better job security, good pay, the works! You'll just need to play it safe for a bit, bite your tongue about whatever stupid name, costume and restrictions they slap you with and you'll be golden!"
"Assaut, you don't have the authority-!"
"Armsmaster..." Hannah groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I respect you as a friend and a leader, but please, just this once, no matter how much these words might terrify me? Leave this to Assault."
Ballistic considered the words for a moment before slowly nodding. "Well... alright then. Protectorate it is, I guess."
"Sweet!" Assault grinned and laughed as he clapped his hands together before looking around. "Any other takers? Free passes for all, today only! Spend the rest of your years playing puppet for the man and saving kittens from trees!"
A half-heartedly thrown rock bounced off of Assault's head. "Fuck you!" Someone laughed good-heartedly.
"Fuck you too, random villain!" Assault replied equally jovially.
"Well, that's me then." Ballistic mused. before looking over at his old friends. "What about the rest of you?"
Sundancer searched for something to say for a moment before sighing and hanging her head. "Would you believe... that all I've wanted in life is to be a dancer? Of course, all chances of that were shot to hell when I got these powers..."
She looked up when she felt a hand fall on her shoulder, blinking at the Composer who was obviously smiling kindly beneath her hood. "You still can, you know?" She said quietly. "The Reapers support all the liberal arts. Dancing is definitely one of them. I bet that Freestyle would be honored to have you dance to her music, and I can think of plenty of Reapers who'd adore all-natural lighting on demand for their works."
The way that Sundancer's face went from contemplation to joy was answer enough. The Composer then addressed Genesis. "What about you? Your constructs, do you imagine them yourself?"
Genesis bit her lip before nodding hesitantly.
"Well, they're good. Very good. More than a few of the more abstract-oriented Reapers have wanted to speak with you for a good while now. I'm sure you'd get along famously."
Genesis looked up at her silently before shrugging slightly. "I... want some time to think."
The Composer nodded in acknowledgment. The glance she cast at Sundancer was answer enough.
"What about you, beefcake?" Gangsta purred at Oliver. "Do you have any powers, or are you just really good at looking haw-OWCH!" She was cut off by Grue grabbing her ear and twisting it imperiously.
"Er..." Oliver grinned nervously. "Actually, it kind of is my power. I-I'm a Stranger. Far as we can tell, I change to look like whatever my idea of attractive is. Not all that usef-"
"You work for me now."
"-huh?" Oliver was cut off by Chicago placing his hand on his shoulder and interrupting him. "Um... that's a generous offer, but can I think it over for a- GRK!" He hissed in pain and minute panic when Chicago's grip became noticeably tighter.
"You work for me now." Chicago repeated firmly.
"Kid, if you wanna keep that arm, you'll acknowledge the facts as they are. He won't stop pestering you otherwise." Grunge warned.
"...okay..." Oliver swallowed nervously.
"Good man." Chicago clapped him on his shoulder jovially. "We'll discuss your payment at a later date.
"Well, that's over and done with." Lady Photon sighed wearily. "So... what now?"
"I dunno..." Purity shrugged before frowning. "... what time is it, anyways?"
"Um..." Faultline brought her wrist up above her head and glanced at her watch before groaning and slamming her head back against the pavement. "Mother of god, it's noon."
Cries of protest and moans of denial rang out from the group.
"You can't be serious!" Velocity whined.
"You mean this whole thing took us three hours?!" Regent demanded. "How the fuck is that even possible!?"
"Well, let's see..." Tattletale started counting off on her fingers. "Coil dropped his little PR bomb at nine, took an hour to round everyone up and plan everything out, a little over an hour and a half to get in position and raid Coil's bases, and we've been fighting Noelle for the past half hour, so... yeah. Noon. Which... is pretty fucking unbelievable, I'll admit."
A stunned silence reigned over the group for a moment before South looked up and down the street, narrowing his eyes at the nearest intersection. "Hey, Boss? We're on Churchtown. Isn't that...?"
"Yeah, it is. I see what you're getting at." The Composer nodded in agreement before clapping her hands to draw attention to herself. "Alright everyone, listen up! We're currently a few blocks away from one of my gang's bases. We call it the Gallery. We have plenty of supplies there with which we can treat any wounds and start to recuperate. As such, I propose this: we go there, we open the emergency supplies, and those of us who can get blind. Fucking. Drunk. Then, once we're all nice and hammered, me, Armsmaster, Lady Photon, Kaiser, Skidmark, Faultline and Grue will sit down, talk, and come to an ironclad agreement so that we can make sure that nothing even remotely like this ever happens again. All in favor?"
"...very well."
"I can stand behind this course of action."
"Sounds fine to me."
"I think we can come to an understanding."
"Eh, fuck it. If there's booze, I'm in."
"Let's do it."
"Perfect!" The Composer waved her hand as she started to walk. "Follow me."
There were a few tired groans, but slowly and surely, the other Parahumans and Reapers got to her feet and followed behind her, the Tinkers with vehicles putting them into the closest things they had to a slow drive.
Armsmaster stepped up to the Composer, wheeling his bike along. "Do you actually think this peace will last?" He asked frankly. "Do you actually think that you stand a chance at brokering some kind of truce in one of the worst Parahuman cities on the Eastern Seaboard?"
The Composer was silent for a moment, glancing over her shoulder as they walked, observing the different individuals, tired and weary as they were, heroes and villains, white, black and asian alike, all standing together, speaking and laughing with one another casually.
Finally, she nodded definitively. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I actually can."
Armsmaster stared at her quietly before looking ahead. "Then we'd better make this stick."
The Composer nodded again. "Damn straight. Damn straight..."
-o-
"Director Piggot? The Protectorate team has returned. You're... going to want to see this."
The second she received the call, Director Piggot hauled herself out of her seat and marched out of her office, flanked by two PRT officers. She marched swiftly and sternly through the halls of the PRT Headquarters, and within minutes caught sight of her subordinates.
The sight before her instantaneously floored her.
Dauntless was stumbling down the hall, various colorful designs painted across his armor. "G'afternoon, D'rector Piggot..." He slurred, drunkenly saluting her.
Velocity staggered along, occasionally speeding into a blur and ramming into the wall. "'ftetrnoon, 'rector..." He hiccuped.
Battery was slumped forwards as she trudged down the hall, dragging Assault behind her by his foot. "Director." She sighed heavily as she gave her a lazy, two fingered salute.
"Heeeeey, Piggy!" Assault snickered, ignoring the tired kick Triumph delivered to his head.
"Director Piggot." The lion-headed hero nodded, a yawn evident in his voice.
Piggot finally managed to regain her voice when an equally disheveled Miss Militia and Armsmaster stepped up before her and rose their hands into firm salutes.
"East-North-East Protectorate, reporting for duty, ma'am." They chorused wearily.
At last, Piggot got her wits about her and managed to respond. "Where the hell have you been!?" She demanded indignantly. "First the entire local Protectorate up and abandons their posts simultaneously, then we get reports of some kind of madness going on Downtown, then the Endbringer Alarms start ringing without warning, and when everyone finally leaves the shelters we find a good strip of the city in ruin, a monster imprisoned in what you!" She jabbed her finger at Armsmaster. "Reported as the effect of one of Bakuda's bombs you were repurposing, and not a soul to be found! Can you even begin to explain yourselves!?"
Armsmaster and Miss Militia slowly looked at one another before looking back. "Director-" Miss Militia started slowly.
"Director Piggot." Armsmaster interrupted, cutting his friend off. "I want you to know that I hold the utmost respect for you as my superior and for the sacrifices you made in the name of keeping the peace in Ellisburg."
Director Piggot blinked in confusion. "What does that have to-?"
"That being said," Armsmaster forged on. "The fact of the matter is that neither I, Miss Militia, or any of my team for that matter, is in any state to be giving you a report. Now, I promise you that once we have a chance to rest and relax, I will personally report each and every last detail of today's events to you. But if you try and make us do anything, and I mean anything, before 8 A.M.? Then ma'am, I'm sorry, but frankly, I can't be held responsible for my actions."
Piggot sputtered in disbelief. "Wh- eight- it's three in the afternoon!"
"That only serves to emphasize just how incredibly generous I'm being with you." Armsmaster deadpanned.
Director Piggot searched for something to say, but before she could, Miss Militia quickly spoke up. "Emily," She pleaded. "We have had a hell of a day, the kind you can't even begin to imagine. Just... all I want to do at the moment is sleep and never wake up. Just give us that, and we'll tell you everything, I promise."
The Director stared at the heroes silently for a moment before stiffening as an all too familiar smell hit her nostrils. "Have you two been drinking!?" She demanded before realizing that they weren't the only ones who'd reeked. "Have you all been drinking!?"
"Not even remotely close to enough, I assure you..." Miss Militia groaned.
"For the record, Triumph didn't have any on account of his age, though he did ingest an obscene amount of root beer." Armsmaster noted.
Piggot worked her jaw for a moment before flinging her arms up in defeat. "Fuck it. Fuck it! I'll have your pays halved and each and every one of you put on the worst shit duties I can think of for the foreseeable future, but you know what? If you want to sleep? Fine. Go to fucking sleep. Just... get out of my face."
"Thank you, Director Piggot." The heroes chorused as they continued past her.
"If any villains raise any trouble while you're having your little naps, it'll be on all of your heads!" She called after them.
"Don't worry, they won't." Armsmaster called back before rounding the corner.
Piggot huffed furiously for a moment before pinning one of her bodyguards with a glare. "Call Doctor Farmton. I want to know exactly how much alcohol I can drink before I die. I don't care if it's a tiny paper cup, just get me a damn drink."
-o-
"Gah, fuck fuck fuck fuck, c'mon, c'mon..." Skidmark hissed, rummaging through the pigsty that was his flat. He tossed around restlessly, flinging clothes and belongings this way and that without a care in the world, occasionally flashing up a field of momentum-shifting energy in an effort to sift through the mess and find his objective.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK! COME ON!" He roared, finally losing his temper and flipping the sole table he had on its side. Skidmark stood there, huffing furiously for a moment before heavily sitting on his bad, elbows resting on his knees as he cradled his head.
"Fuck, come on..." Skidmark moaned. He remained like that for a moment before slowly lifting his head and staring at the needle he was clutching. His eyes wandered around his room, lingering on his discarded and, frankly, rancid clothing.
Maybe if he tore one of them up? Got a nice, long strip, wrapped it and tied it up nice and tight and... and...
And...
Skidmark scowled and shook his head. "Fuck this..." He growled, raising his arm and stabbing the needle into the leg of his bed, where he left it dangling precariously. "I'll find the fucking rope when I'm not so fucking tired... For now... gugh... what a fucking day..."
And with that, the leader of the Merchants flopped backwards, laying on his ratty, dilapidated mattress.
Moments later, his snores filled the flat.
-o-
Brrnnnnng, brrnnn-CLICK!
"Mmmyeeeah?"
"Taylor? Taylor, sweety, are you fine!? You're safe? You're fi-?"
"Mmm... Daaad... M'fine... just... c'ld yu be a bit more quiet, pleeease?"
"Oh thank god... Taylor, where the hell were you!? First I got a call about you disappearing from school, then the alarms and-!"
"Dad, dad... m'fine... fine... S'ry 'bout school, but it was an em'rgency... Brian... ya know, Aisha's goo' lookin' brother? He needed a witness to help his case. Ya know, 'bout gettin' custody? R'ly last minute stuff... 'nyways, she got me out, br'ght me over there... had to do a lot of paperw'rk, speak to a lot of peeple... but they won... ain't that great dad? They won! Yippee..."
"Well... that is great, I'll admit. Brian's a good man, I'm happy for him. I-I'll see about arranging a barbeque or something to celebrate, get everyone together."
"Yaaay..."
"But Taylor, the alarms, even if they were a dud-!"
"I was fiiiine, dad, fiiiine. Streets were clogged so we... had to run... Aaaaahhh... about ten blocks to the Wilkins bunker... stayed there the ent're time... then... ran straight back home..."
"The Wilkins bunker!? Taylor, that's halfway across town!"
"Uh huh... 's why I'm so tired... buuuh don't worry... I stayed to the Emp're territories... they're bastards... but they're white lovin' bastards... an' I'm white, so it's all good, right...?"
"... I really want to fault that logic, I really do. But... still... so long as you're safe... you're entirely sure you're fine, Taylor?"
"..."
"Taylor?"
"Zzzz... snrkt... zzzz..."
"... sleep well, Taylor."
CLICK!