Summoner

by codekinguu

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21. Chapter 36-40

Chapter 36

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The world spun for only a moment before she burst into smoke, killing her momentum, then turned invisible, grouping herself up high in the sky to whirl around and look for her adversary.

Said adversary was floating in place, spinning and looking for her, just twenty feet down.

It was the way she was flying, the way she held her hands, that made something click in her head.

It was a practised pose, the only real way to fly without looking goofy or strange, one knee half-bent and foot pointed down.

The squared shoulders, the tilt of her elbow, that odd but appealing way she held her fists out just a little, bending her wrists down a couple degrees to seem both ready and alert but not tense, she'd seen those before.

All she needed to add to the image was a cape and a silver helmet.

That vague, tiny hint of familiarity in the back of her mind joined the information, and it all clicked together in an image she never would have imagined in a hundred years.

Alexandria? She blurted out in the woman's mind, flabbergasted, and the woman whirled, checking her surroundings.

It fit, but it also didn't.

Why the fuck would a member of the… Triumvirate…

Through the physical and mental pain, she felt some small, fundamental foundation of her worldview shift.

It made sense. Too much sense.

She dashed away, and solidified.

She couldn't kill fucking Alexandria.

As much as she now hated the fucking bitch, the world needed her. She was one of the few symbols of hope their part of the world had left. The lives she saved during Endbringer attacks were far too many.

She had no idea how hard Smite would hit her. It might do next to nothing, it might cut her in half. She just didn't know.

She didn't need to kill her, thankfully. In fact, if she was alive, that would serve her better.

There was a chance she was making false conclusions here, but that fact did not change. She wanted the woman alive.

She materialised midair in the middle of her mad dash, coming out into a spinning flip a hundred feet away.

A brief moment of sight was all she needed, the woman rushing for her like a bullet.

She reached for a different summoner spell, and cast it, immediately burst into smoke again right as… who she thought was Alexandria rushed through her, scattering her in the wind.

That felt almost as horrible as getting gut-punched by a human freight train.

The woman screamed a high-pitched scream as she burst into flames, flailing limply through the air for a panicked moment before her flight reactivated and she bashed herself into the dirt, trying to put the fires out in vain, carving rends into the grassland like a plough through sand in wide, sweeping curves.

'Ignite' burned one's lifeforce and soul as well as their flesh.

If the flesh couldn't be harmed, the other two would suffice.

There were many Legends who could do the same and worse.

She positioned herself mentally, changing positions around the woman as she destroyed her suit and forced choking sounds of agony through her mask.

All she needed was to get that stupid fucking mask off her face. Everything else was just to stall for time, to find some way to end this, and end this fast.

A portal opened to the side, and her eyes jerked to it as the first sign of reinforcements came, a row of agents decked out in full Tinkertech gear, sprinting out and quickly scattering in a circular formation, not helping Alexandria, but simply looking for her.

To the left another one opened, a single man walking through, covered in Tinkertech armour, hands limp at his side.

She swapped Runes.

A tide of information came to her from Cosmic Insight, and she kept moving in wide circles as Alexandria tried to put the fire out in vein, rapidly losing her suit and being left in a bodysleeve.

Her eyes went to the man who arrived alone, and she felt half her options evaporate before her very eyes.

Can kill someone with a single gaze.

Considering how powers worked, that was a purely biology-focused power.

She needed a battlefield for just herself and Alexandria. She couldn't afford to fight all of Cauldron here.

A single Legend came to mind, and with an internal, self-directed cuss, she resigned herself to having her brain bleed out of her ears by the time this was over with.

Why hadn't she expected reinforcements? They were incompetent and overconfident, not blind.

Unbound Spellbook waited for her, and she reached for another cast of Ignite as the fires abruptly winked out.

She materialised in the air just long enough to cast it on the furious human shaped comet, her momentum as the mist carrying her to the woman.

Alexandria likewise rushed her, ignoring the pain.

She burst into smoke once more, then went invisible and flew up as Alexandria audibly snarled in fury and pain.

She reached for Mordekaiser, The Iron Revenant.

Thirteen feet of metal flickered into existence above Alexandria as she bashed herself into the ground, and she dropped like a stone towards the woman, her right hand throwing the mace's head out towards Alexandria as bullets and lasers and grenades battered her unyielding form, none of them forcing her to move any more than an inch.

Through a fleshless visage of metal, eyes that were not eyes glared at her adversary through metal sockets, and she reached for the woman's soul with her mace, a formless line forming between one vessel to another.

She threw her left hand out behind her to grasp a distant realm, something familiar and silent.

Eerie green light reached Alexandria right as she twisted enough to see her from within the ground she was churning through, and the world twisted around them as Taylor's clawed gauntlet grasped the realm of the undead and pulled a small piece of it to the waking world with a sound like a rusty churchbell rasping to a lifeless sky.

Alexandria rushed at her with a yell.

The world around them warped, sound distorting for a moment as if underwater.

A wave of green-black mist formed around them like a second skin clawing at the sunlight all around them.

Her iron boots broke the ground as she fell.

The mist exploded outwards from their bodies, obstructing her vision for only a moment as it rushed away from them in a near-instantaneous wave, replacing one world with another for a sphere of space barely a thousand feet wide.

A pale gray expanse of lifeless, broken soil, surrounded by an impenetrable bubble of mist, spinning and softly wailing, an arena for just the two of them in a realm as close to Hell as she could get.

She cast Exhaust right as Alexandria slammed into her chestplate and sent her to the ground, grunting in annoyance as she felt her soul rattle in its vessel, soulfire bursting out of every seam and joint of her armour.

She made a grasping motion in the air with her left gauntlet as Alexandria zipped back up above her and dashed down. She yanked her hand to the side.

A spectral gauntlet of green soulfire formed out of nothing and plucked Alexandria out of the air, its glow mixing with the orange-yellow sways of the Exhaust spell, and wrenched to the side, letting go and dissipating at the height of its momentum as Taylor directed it.

The woman blurred towards the wall of mist.

Fingers and faces formed before she hit it as if to welcome her in, twisting around her as she impacted it, mouths screaming and fingers grappling for what little scraps remained of her immaculate suit.

Then she bounced off as if the mist was made of steel, scraps of her soul lingering on the fingernails of the damned as Taylor lifted her own bulk with another gauntlet, yanking herself up, adjusting her grip on Nightfall.

The souls took their bounty, and retreated into the maelstrom.

She slammed her left fist into her own chestplate, soulfire flaring around her with a crisp clang of metal, coating her.

She thrust her chest out with a deep, booming snarl, metal untwisting and screeching back into place, soulfire rushing back into the gaps of her chest, done with its task as she thundered forward.

Alexandria rushed her, feet first, still alit with Ignite's dying embers.

In a normal person, having so much of their soul burned and clawed away would have left them a gibbering husk, barely able to stand from weakness, their body graying and decaying.

Besides some branch-like flesh she could see beneath some of the flames however, Alexandria did not appear affected.

Another summoner spell roared to life around Taylor, Barrier wreathing her in pale, magical wards, runes twisting at the edge of her vision as she swerved on her heel, showing Alexandria her back, raising the mace above her head to seemingly slam into the ground, double-handing it.

The hero didn't see the trap for what it was, somehow.

Nor the gamble that it was on Taylor's end, that this was really Alexandria and not someone else, because she doubted anyone else would survive this kind of strike.

Two feet slammed into the middle of Taylor's back, the barrier absorbing the majority of the impact and shattering with a whisper like cracked glass.

What was left of the impact, she used to her advantage, twisting snarls of metal within her hollow body to move the force into her arms.

Soulfire wailed as she pushed it forth, spewing out of the empty spaces of her mace like a jet turbine, and with speed that looked impossible on a titan of her size, she slammed it down in a blur.

She switched to the Rune of Sorcery, picking Arcane Comet. In the same instant, mid-swing, she grasped Flash, and cast it behind her, teleporting several feet back, behind the agent.

The woman didn't have a millisecond to react as the mace burst into existence above her face in a spew of sparks, mere inches away, her eyes still trained on where she'd just hit Taylor in the back.

The mace slammed into the barren earth and through it with a deafening sound that echoed and bounced within their bubble of space, digging the puppet into the earth, jagged teeth of stone exploding around them, dust billowing and obscuring both their sights.

The comet orbiting her waist shot up faster than her sight could follow, through the mists and out of sight, then a mere second later, fell down, the size of half a human and so fast that Taylor only caught a flash of indigo before it hit her mace and nearly ripped it out of her hands with how hard it stomped it through the earth, making her stumble forward.

The earth cracked like dry, layered ceramics beneath them, and she dropped to her knees to keep upright, unable to keep up with the aftershock and the impact itself as it decimated their arena, star dust flickering in the air and molten rock clinging to her greaves as she used her left hand to form a thousand grasping hands to stabilize the earth around her feet like nails and wires.

For a moment, the only sound was the soft moaning wails of the undead souls around them, distant and weak, and the reverberations of a hundred feet of earth being turned to smoking gravel and dust.

She couldn't even see anything past a foot or two away, and for a moment, she worried that she'd killed Alexandria. Worried that maybe that person wasn't actually Alexandria, and she just lost her only bargaining chip.

She was proven wrong by the overwhelming force that shoved her mace up through half a dozen feet of broken stone, almost launching it out of her hands, only a couple gauntleted fingers keeping Nightfall from being thrown to the mists.

A spike of agony twisting between her temples registered through the chaos to let her know she was running out of time and resources.

Before she could toss the mace down again, a blur shot out of the crater, turned abruptly in a ninety degree angle, and rushed to her head.

She switched to the Rune of Resolve, picking Grasp of the Undying, green energy swirling around her gauntlets.

She didn't get to hit anything, as knees dug into her shoulders and fingers dove into the Y-shaped slip of her helmet, wrenching it apart.

She jerked to the side, and through the rush of dust that motion cleared, she caught a clear look at the woman she was fighting.

She could recognize those eyes, even if instead of silver metal framing them, it was the thick remnants of a cracked black mask.

One real, one not.

She'd be the second to put a scar on this woman, then.

The helmet creaked as the iron began to peel apart, a snarl of fury on Alexandria's face.

She tossed her mace aside, and brought a fist to Alexandria's back, jerking her upper body forward for more force.

Neither of them were expecting Alexandria's arms to keel, nor a short wheeze to leave her before she straightened her arms again and kept pulling.

That wasn't why she hit her, however.

Grasp of the Undying latched onto whatever lifeforce Alexandria had left, and yanked out whatever it could, green energy full of life rushing over Taylor's knuckles and sinking into the summon core, rejuvenating what it could. The Second Wind effect combined with Rejuvenate, each bouncing off each other to push back, just slightly, that maddening agony shredding her brain apart.

The monstrous force trying to peel her helm apart withered even further, turning to nothing more than a strong annoyance.

Molecular stasis kept the woman tough.

But something about the woman's strength or stasis didn't seem to work right with lifeforce, or a severe lack of it.

She won.

She'd just fought Alexandria, and she won.

She burst into roaring, booming laughter, the sound like a halting funeral bell, dropping her hands and spreading them in challenge, the two green orbs of light that she called eyes looking into Alexandria's with a wide, unerring gaze full of triumph and delirious agony, not bothering to pull her off.

She won.

In the deep murk of her helm, the woman could not see the metal shards that formed her grin.

Alexandria growled, and wrenched a hand back, snapping it forward.

She switched back to Evelynn, swapping to the Rune of Domination simply for the physical boost, and burst into smoke.

The fist flew through her, and she twined around it, pulling herself in a half dozen directions. She materialised again, tentacles of bone and branches made of spines twisting around Alexandria to keep her still if only for a moment, and finally, her head formed in the blink of an eye above Alexandria's, golden eyes staring into one.

Her eyes flashed gold, and she pushed pure fuzz into her mind, just as Alexandria bucked and tore half of her tentacles apart.

Then she stilled, dropping like a rock.

They crashed into the broken earth, roiling dust clouds twining and pushing like snakes around them, and Taylor grit her teeth as she straightened, fixing her form to something more human, alien features turning to pink smoke.

She leaned down, and grasped the woman's chin, jerking it forward, empty eyes meeting her own.

She remembered as a child, hearing Alexandria explain that she was utterly immune to Master powers. In the PRT's files, they explained that it was because Alexandria's brain could not be altered.

Wouldn't it be oh so funny, if Cauldron believed the same?

As far as they knew, all she had were mere powers like theirs.

Her eyes flashed gold once more.

The valley was silent, even as more and more people poured out of the portals, agents and some of the few loyal Case 53's they had spreading out in a wide circle around the two strange, ghostly orbs dashing and flickering about where Summoner and Alexandria used to be.

Shamrock didn't know what she could realistically do here, but the reinforcement order went from yellow to an orange in a matter of seconds, so when the portal appeared in her room, she had little choice.

She was ready anyways.

She always was.

Her handler wasn't here, but she was told the flying man was the one in charge.

She sat amongst the general agents, one knee down, aiming down the scope of her plasma rifle at the central site, while ten feet down on either side of her, at least a dozen other agents were using the odd furrows dug into the earth as trenches.

The orbs eventually stopped, nestled close to the ground, then shifted again, one swinging lazily, the other rising in the air.

A sound like a whisper registered, and it began to ramp up rapidly over a few seconds.

Everyone tensed, ready.

Heartstopper moved closer at the edge of her peripheral vision, his handler keeping a tight grip on his shoulder to stop him. He obeyed after a moment of mindlessly moving forward, his armour whirring down.

With a sound like a gasp reversed through a hollow tube, a strange, dark, gray-green mist formed from the orbs, bursting like a pox ball, outwards and washing over them.

It smelled like a graveyard and tasted like the air of a tomb.

Utter silence reigned for a moment as the sun outlined a monstrous silhouette, taller than any people in the valley combined, thirteen feet tall and as wide as six or seven men at the shoulders.

In one hand, a blocky, gnarled thing hung.

In the other, a human shape did the same.

"Hold fire!" The flying man boomed, flying up, fists shaking as the mist cleared in the morning breeze.

Her eyes widened even further at the form it revealed.

Spikes and chains and metal plates curling in and out of eachother, backlit by green light and something eerie and foreign, all mixing with a form that looked like it could eat everything they threw at it and laugh at them.

She pulled her head back a little, giving a quick, dubious glance at her rifle.

It felt like holding a water pistol up to a polar bear.

She swallowed, and ducked her head down to the scope again, hoping her handler hadn't seen that momentary distraction.

Not a single word was spoken.

The metal construct groaned in the way only something made of metal could, slowly raising its left arm, its monstrous fist wrapped tight around a limp woman's head.

She couldn't tell if the woman was alive.

Half of her wore a scorched, torn and flaking bodysuit of some kind, while the other half revealed strange lines of gnarled, branch-like flesh, the marks shaped like fingertips and the outline of human teeth.

The flying man took a deep breath.

"Is she alive?" He asked, voice cold and filtered through the odd, half-done helmet he wore.

The metal titan shifted, its movements stilted.

" For now. " It rumbled, with a voice that she could literally feel in her chest, vibrating her ribs like a xylophone. " You heard our demands. Return our bounty and scatter, weaklings. Or else… " It rumbled, its voice somewhere between a growl of contempt and a purr full of sadism.

The gauntlet tightened, strange green flames that made her guts churn with unease flickering out between the plates of its glove.

"Will you uphold your end of this deal?" The flying man's mechanical voice asked, shouting across the open space.

Slowly, too slowly to be comfortable with, the giant nodded, a motion so small she couldn't have noticed it without the two massive spikes coming out of its helm making it so much more obvious.

"Alright! One moment! Don't harm her!" The flying man hollered, then raised a hand to his helmet.

A tense moment followed, followed by another, everyone but the giant essentially fidgeting.

Even she.

Then, three different portals opened, and through them walked three different people, pushed through by black-clad hands.

She allowed herself to briefly glance at them, feeling all the more confused.

A teenage girl, a man in a cape costume, and a middle aged man that looked terrified out of his mind, glancing around like he was tweaking.

The portals closed, and two more portals opened, one significantly larger than the other.

The giant turned its head to the gawking blonde and the dejected man in the suit, and jerked its head to the large portal.

The girl and the man in the suit gave a hesitant glance at the two or three dozen rifles pointed their way, then quickly made their way to the portals, walking through into what looked like... a well-lit tunnel?

The giant turned its head to the middle aged man who was eyeing the smaller portal.

" Go. " It growled, and the man jumped like a rabbit, nodded rapidly, and sprinted through it.

The giant lowered its hand, and with a flick of its wrist, like throwing away trash, tossed the woman aside to the closest row of agents as if she was a limp ragdoll, put the gigantic mace on its shoulder, and turned, walking to the giant portal with unconcerned, confident steps.

The portal closed behind it, and the flying man rushed to the woman the agents were trying to put on a gurney, grabbing her and zipping through another portal.

"Well done. Await return." Her handler's voice buzzed through the device in her ear, and she replied back with the words she was told to, quickly moving to the closest squad commander to follow them back whenever the portal maker could service them, folding her weapons away.

In the meantime, she looked out at the mostly pristine valley and the mountains around it, knowing this would not be a sight she would see often.

She might even try to smuggle back a flower into her room.

All in all, it was a good day for Shamrock.

Notes:

hope i did this well, and hope you guys enjoyed Alex being taken down a peg :D

Or twenty

Chapter 37

Notes:

Cooldown and logistics chapter be like:

also, edited ch35-36 to be more canon-accurate, ty for the comments pointing those problems out to me

thank you for all the lovely comments too, they're practically 60% of my motivation and joy from this story.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Lisa was honestly speechless.

What does one say to the insanity she witnessed in those short few seconds?

That was Alexandria.

Taylor beat Alexandria to a fucking pulp. The woman was as limp as a potato sack. And scarred.

She remembered Taylor telling her she was practically Eidolon 2.0, but she hadn't taken that to heart until now.

She could deal with the worldview-shattering revelation that Alexandria worked for Cauldron later.

That annoying ass alarm could wait as well.

"Holy shit, T." She groaned out, both in relief and disbelief, rubbing at her face as she slid down the wall. "Thank you, by the way. Goddamn you're fast. Hadn't even been thirty minutes in that cell and I get thrown out onto a Windows background valley. I owe you like at least six foot massages."

Taylor didn't reply.

The monstrously enormous suit of metal sat completely still at their right.

Starting to feel a little nervous about having a metal titan silently looming over her, she glanced up.

Taylor made a sound, then flickered, returning to her real form.

Then she made some kind of strangled moan and collapsed.

Coil was the one who got to her first, preventing her from cracking her head open on the floor.

"Ma'am?" He rushed out quietly, and she scrambled up to help the bastard hold Taylor up, throwing one of her arms around her shoulder.

"Sam? Sam. What's…" She started, then trailed off when she noticed the faint glint of red on her cheeks, barely visible through the shoulder-length head of curly hair and the shitty lighting.

"Hold her still, make sure her head isn't moving around." She snapped to Coil, who did as asked, and she carefully tilted Taylor's head back, brushing hair out of her face.

She gulped, the remnants of adrenaline in her system firing up again.

Taylor was bleeding from her fucking eyes. And her nose, but her eyes. It wasn't just a few drops either, that- that was a lot of fucking blood to be losing from one's face.

A strangled grunt came from Taylor as Lisa stood there like a shocked fucking lemming, before her body emitted a bunch of weird green particles with a startlingly loud sound, making her hand flinch off for a moment before darting forward to brush more hair away.

Brown eyes flickered open, bloodshot, and Taylor tried to speak, the sound little more than a mangled slur, her neck limp as her head rolled to the side, Coil's hand gently stopping it from moving too suddenly.

Taylor tried again, trying to squirm out of Coil's touch, a hand trying to cover an ear and missing sluggishly before smacking Lisa on the chest.

Shit, the alarm.

Why the fuck was there an alarm?

Judging by how her own head was pounding and only getting worse from the sound, it wasn't exactly hard to piece together what Taylor was trying to communicate.

"Cover her ears, now. I got her."

Coil obeyed instantly, swapping posts with her, moving behind Taylor and clamping his hands over her ears tightly as Taylor made animalistic whimpers of pain.

How much did she overuse her power?

She'd never heard of someone dying from power overuse, but Taylor said her power came from a different fucking Earth, so all bets were off.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, she couldn't deal with losing another- something like a sibling. She couldn't deal with the knowledge that if Taylor died it would be on her and fucking Coil getting kidnapped. That would be the worst fucking way for Tay to die.

With the minor Brute rating Taylor had given her, it was startlingly easy to carry her down the hall from her and Coil's office, down through three open, strangely unguarded doors, and out onto a walkway of grated steel overlooking one of the vehicle depots.

It was empty.

Why was it fucking empty?

The alarm was only getting louder the further they went into the main base.

A rushing guard moved ahead of them, glanced to the side at them, and nearly tripped over himself to stop himself in the middle of a dead sprint, giving them a baffled look.

She waved him closer, still uncomfortably half-carrying Taylor to the side with her free hand as she awkwardly walked as fast as she could to meet him.

Once he was close, she grabbed his plate carrier and tugged him down.

"Ear protection! Go to the range, get ear protection! The one they use for the big guns! Come to the med bay!"

Instead of rushing away, he paused, giving her an unsure, empty look, thick scarred brows furrowing. Then he opened his mouth, and glanced at his watch, wiping the glass with a glove.

"Miss, the med bay should be empty by now! Were you out of base? We're relocating! Liquid Red protocol, two hours and twelve minutes till detonation!" He quickly rushed out over the alarm, and she spent half a second trying to remember what the fuck a Liquid Red protocol meant before giving up.

"Detonation of what?" She half-yelled, trying to ignore Taylor's unsynchronized movements and the fear stabbing ice picks into her chest.

"The base! Self-destruct protocol! We're scattering to the safehouses until further notice." He clarified, giving Taylor a trained once-over. "What's wrong with her? I was a field medic!"

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Why did Taylor decide to just blow up their goddamn base?

You paranoid nutter.

Did the technicians get backups of Coil's files at least?

Did any of that fucking matter right now!?

"Any transport?" She snapped, ignoring him, because they didn't need a fucking field medic they needed a sensory deprivation chamber until Taylor was done using her healing power on herself.

He nodded, shoving his equipment as far as he could from his hands, and walking forward to lodge himself under Taylor's other arm, studiously ignoring her awkward pawing at his helmet as she moaned incoherent sounds of pain.

He started walking, and she did the same to keep Taylor straight, Coil awkwardly trailing behind them, his hands entirely focused on keeping Taylor's head leaned back and her ears covered as best as he could.

"I'll take you! We're just emptying the light loads at the moment, so the civvie vehicles are getting cleared out first with the support staff. We can take one of the sedans!" The soldier said, and she made a tiny thumbs up to him as they squeezed through hallways and rushing mercs that scraped along the walls to make room for them.

It took a bit of logistical wrangling, and a couple minutes of hacking away at Noelle's lower half, but the mercs had done a very good job at stuffing Noelle into one of the decoy trucks.

The only building that could house the girl was one of the dock warehouses which was conveniently close to the safehouse she had temporarily put the Travellers and their new additions in, so it followed that she'd make their hidden convoy follow in those same tracks.

If anything happened to Noelle while Tay was out, she was pretty sure Taylor would have an aneurysm.

The explosives grade ear protection and the blindfold unfortunately didn't seem to make Taylor feel better, as during the entire ride, she just kept letting out strangled whimpers and trying to put pressure on her head, followed by the occasional burst of green particles as she writhed in pain.

Judging from how the bleeding stopped after the second time she used it, she could guess that she needed to use the healing power multiple times.

It was still terrifying to consider the implications of that.

She'd never, ever heard of a Thinker getting a brain haemorrhage from power overuse, and if the internet was right, bleeding from the eyes was definitely a sign of severe brain bleed.

And Taylor's behavioural change was equally concerning because it meant that something in her brain was still fuzzy and drunk and messed up because Taylor would not whimper and try to curl up into a ball on the seat if she was all there in the head, not in front of her subordinates.

It was like whatever safety stops were supposed to be there in a power to stop it from killing its user were mere suggestions for Taylor.

She wasn't in the habit of ascribing overly sentimental motives to people who didn't operate on those things, but the thought that on some level Taylor had pushed herself like this for her and the dejected bastard in the other seat was turning her heart into a punching bag of guilt.

At the same time, she literally blinked and there was a fucking cell in front of her, someone's hands were halfway to her wrists, and out of the corner of her eyes she could see the back of Sundancer doing her hair, turned away from her, split along with a shimmering rainbow line.

There was absolutely nothing she could have done to prevent this.

She sighed, grabbing one of Taylor's roaming hands between her own and weaving her fingers through hers, trying not to flinch from how tight Taylor was holding her.

Now, to see if she could get Taylor to sit down and rest for a couple days.

And hopefully keep things from imploding in the meantime.

Lisa squinted at the paper in her hand, rubbing at her temples, feet kicked up on a cracked, dusty desk.

Through a single foggy window to the right, half-covered in duct tape, morning sunlight washed over the metal flooring and the cracks of metal railing outside the office, a low humm-shuffle of mercenaries whispering to each other and patrolling the tight spaces occupying her ears.

It didn't help to know it was a nice, bright sunny day, and she was spending it stuffed up in a warehouse's overseer office with fucking Coil, trying to wrangle order into a scattered organization.

It hurt her ego to admit that Coil was doing more than half of the work on that front. Bastard was good at management, much more than her at the moment, and she was learning from him.

It made her want to blow his brains out, but she refrained. Someone had to be a voice of reason around here, so she had to follow reason.

That, and it was much, much easier to work on moving and shuffling Coil's assets with the man himself there to do it. Impersonating someone for paperwork transfers was a pain.

The people were mildly easier, but not by much.

How the hell did Taylor do this? Managing so many people was driving her nuts, and even compared to Coil, Taylor seemed so effortless in doing it. Just point, order, and walk away.

It was not that simple for her, even with Coil on the next desk over.

Maybe the secret was in doing that Taylor thing, where she'd stare off into space with that look in her eyes like she wasn't spacing out as much as looking at something completely different that nobody else could.

She admired the girl, fucking sue her.

Just one day of dual management of their scattered assets made that admiration increase.

She put the paper between two fingers, and extended it to the side without looking.

Coil wordlessly plucked it from her fingers, barely glancing to the side so he didn't miss, and she paused at how natural and smooth their movement had gotten by now.

Then she scowled.

Something about having a moment of flawless teamwork with the fucker that got her old team killed and got her imprisoned by Lung for a month really, really pissed her off.

She wanted a civvie day. She missed those.

"So… Where's boss lady?"

Lisa, to her credit, didn't jump in her seat like Coil.

Mostly because she didn't have the fucking energy.

Her head rolled back, and she stared up at Imp's domino mask as she obnoxiously chewed gum, arms resting on the top of her office chair and looking down at her.

"We had a fight with another organization. She overexerted herself. What did you want with her?"

Imp blew a bubble.

Lisa wrinkled her nose, forcing her power shut.

She didn't need to know the flavour and how long that gum had been in Imp's mouth for fuck's sake.

"Didja win?"

"She fucked them." She snorted, and barely stopped herself from both bragging and ranting about fucking Alexandria what the fuck.

"Huh, nice. Anyways I uh, I dunno. Me and Spits are kinda in limbo right now, and all that. Your pitch was pretty basic and noncommittal cuz of boss lady, but I don't think we're gonna meet boss lady anytime soon, huh?"

A moment of suspicion passed, before she flicked her power on.

Another moment passed, and she pushed it back, sighing.

Imp was genuinely just fucking bored.

"She needs to recover for a day or four. So, I don't think so. But, I do think I know her well enough to make a placeholder job for you to do."

Imp jumped back, and spun in place to throw her butt onto her desk.

"Hey!" She barked, and grabbed the girl's collar with her left hand, yanking her clean off the desk and placing her to the side like a disobedient toddler, ignoring her girl's yelp as she hissed in frustration and straightened the papers Imp sat on. "These are fucking important. Stop acting like a twelve year old, I said I have a job for you." She growled, checking to make sure nothing had torn.

"Holy shit you're fucking strong. Aren't you some thinkie smartie girl?" Imp said, then gasped. "Oh and shit, nice tats. Where'd you get em?" Imp poked her forearm.

She glanced down and examined the geometric patterns Taylor had put on her arms.

She'd honestly forgotten about those. The bodysuit just hid them all the time.

Wait, fuck. She forgot to put the bodysuit on. She felt quite naked without bulletproof protection from ankle to neck.

She also forgot her hair was still black.

Self-image was confusing when one's best friend slash sister figure could mould someone like clay.

"The 'boss lady' gave em to me." She grumbled, and pushed the papers up to the side.

Coil's hand darted out to grab them and drag them to his own desk, seemingly on autopilot.

She frowned again.

She was getting way too used to the fucker.

"She an artist?"

"She's going to be the Slaughterhouse Nine kind of artist if I somehow make the Bay implode while in the driving wheel, so please just sit your ass in a chair and listen." She sighed, dropping back into her chair and checking the latest batch of reports on her screen.

Said reports were more important than ever now that their entire organization had spread itself out over half the fucking Bay.

Safehouses and abandoned buildings were only barely enough to house their organization, and someone was eventually going to wonder why a group of guys kept walking out an abandoned warehouse in the docks to haul giant bags of what smelled like rotting meat out to a trash truck.

And why there were like fifty heavily armed people hiding in the rafters, if the person to check the place had powers to get in undetected.

Imp pouted, stared at her, then sighed, flicking a butterfly knife out of nowhere and starting to spin it like the world's deadliest fidget spinner around her fingers.

"Sure, shoot. Bored outta my skull here, and poking the empire girl isn't fun when she can flick sunflower seeds to my forehead like little missiles every time I open my mouth. That shit hurts. " Imp hissed.

Lisa arched her back, grimaced at the meaty cracks, and relaxed back into her chair.

"Try not to annoy Rune too much. Anyways… So, for now, let's go for something low profile. First of all, did you know that cameras can show you, as long as the video is edited enough and with a considerable delay involved?"

Imp paused, blinking at her.

"The fuck?"

She nodded, flicking through an email from one of their insiders at the bay's local power company.

"Medhall submitted a video of you stealing from a pharmacy. But you said that electronics can't pick you up at all. So I got curious about who was lying. Gave myself a headache, but I figured it out. Turns out, it was Medhall. They didn't pick you up, they saw a video of half their shelf fucking disappearring, and started fucking with the video until they stumbled onto the fact that compressing and distorting the footage enough makes it possible to perceive you. Then they submitted it to the PRT. I mean, eventually they figured out that it was edited, so the footage is inadmissible in a trial now, but that's still how you came onto their radar. So, if you were to infiltrate a place, make sure your face is well covered, at least."

Imp tilted her head.

"Wow, that fucking blows. I thought I'm completely immune."

She put her phone on the table.

"Well, you pretty much are. Just not when it comes to leaving no tracks whatsoever. So, here's the job. I want you to go into The Rig and bug the place to hell and back. Shitbag over here-" She jerked her thumb to the silently working Coil, who didn't react, "-ordered a bunch of extremely high quality tinkertech bugs that he never quite managed to put in places that mattered, like the Director's office and the cape briefing rooms. And I want you to do that in some inconspicuous disguise, just in case someone for some reason fucks with the footage enough to turn your power off. Hate to have our ploy fucked over because someone turned the video down to show less than a tenth of its original pixels."

Imp stared for a moment, then snorted, shoulders shaking with laughter.

"Bugging the director's office in The Rig is "low profile" for you guys? Damn. I'm gonna like this job more than I thought. I'm in. So uh… how do I start?"

This was the most annoying part, actually. Coordinating people and logistics.

She sighed, again.

"I'll contact the team that has the gear, they're close to lordside downtown. I'll give you an address to meet the driver, he'll drive you there, you go in with the keys, grab the suitcase, read the instructions on the tech, dress in the suit and wear the weird skin mask, and then go to another address and wait until a woman I'll show you a picture of leaves her house and goes to work, morning shift. Just jump into her car, walk into the building, bug it all to hell, and wait for her to finish her shift to get out of there."

Imp stared at her blankly for a moment.

"Sorry, my brain turned off after the third step, can I get that in writing?"

Lisa let her head drop to the desk with a dull thud.

She missed having Taylor around.

She read the slip of paper that Taylor gave her.

She rolled her eyes, and wrote back a reply, putting it into her hand.

Taylor, horrifically slowly, read it.

"Good job, wow. But I'm not resting more than I need to. Too bad of a spot, too mush shfhuf pho do." Taylor whispered, probably not realising she slurred half a sentence into incomprehension.

She smiled, feeling oddly proud of doing a good job.

Then she scowled, glaring at Taylor.

"You're not getting back to work until you can speak normally."

Taylor stared, blinking slowly at her like a lizard before she slowly furrowed a brow.

"Can't focus to read your lips. Write." Taylor breathed out, and offered her the paper slip again.

Lisa put her face in her hands with a groan, then took it.

This was getting annoying.

The last person she expected to see when she grabbed Taylor's phone off her desk was Faultline.

With an empty, cranky glare, she picked up and put it to her ear.

"Faulty. It's me. Renata's busy. What's up?"

Faultline was silent for a moment.

"Right. Herald, how much time do you have-"

"Changed name again. Insight, for now."

Faultline didn't react.

Uptight bitch.

"I see. Insight, how much time do you have?"

She stared at the small tasklist she set up on the side of her monitor.

About a third of the way done. She was doing alright considering the situation and how barely a day had passed.

And Imp should be back by nighttime, which meant that info should start trickling into the information team and by extension to her, before tomorrow passed.

"I've got some time, but I don't want to waste too much of it talking to you, no offence. Can you be short and concise?"

"Yes. The situation is; we were contracted for a high-paying job two months ago, delivering a sensitive package to a port for further delivery. Unfortunately, the employer seems to have displeased the middleman who would send it, and they've been keeping it hostage for one reason or another. They held it for a couple weeks, and eventually the employer stopped responding just as they started working something out. So now they're stuck with a very valuable package that's a little too hot to keep around for much longer, that they can't use, and they're looking for someone to get it off their hands. They even contacted us to see if anyone we knew of had any need for something that looks like a giant Tinkertech battery."

She paused.

Oh, shit. This could be good.

"Elaborate?"

"Alright. About three and a half feet tall and wide, it's this cubic mess of metal with a dozen hazard stickers glued onto it. It has a bunch of weird, triangular nubs on the top, probably connections or coils, I don't know. Sometimes it made a lot of bizarre noises at random while ferrying it around which had us thinking it would explode, but it hasn't so far, and it's existed for months, so it's fairly stable. As for output, no idea, but Gregor got curious and put a stripped wire up to one of the nubs at the top, connected to a lightbulb. The lightbulb exploded and the wire melted almost instantly, so, it's probably something really strong. It's just a giant Tinkertech battery as far as we can tell. They offered it to us for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars."

Her brows rose.

That was practically pennies compared to what most interested parties would pay for it.

"What's the catch? That's way too low…"

Faultline sighed.

"The catch is that the reason it's such hot merchandise and nobody will buy it from down the coast, is that the Dragonslayers are apparently looking for it because Dragon is looking for it, and word's gotten around. Could just be a rumour, but it's a scary enough one for most people to steer clear. Petty criminals like them don't want to keep that kinda stuff on hand, no matter how valuable it might be. If nobody buys it by the end of the week, it's probably getting dumped into the sea. Do you want pictures?"

She chewed on her cheek.

Taylor could speak without moaning and whining like a patient in an insane asylum, but she wasn't sure if she should bring this to her right now. Taylor needed rest, and Lisa needed to feel the burden of leadership for a little bit because she was sure there would be plenty of times she couldn't rely on Taylor to be around and carry her organization's minutiae in the future.

There was a reason she was Tay's right hand at the moment, and that reason was trust from someone who didn't have a whole lot of it to spread around. She couldn't afford to stay in her comfort zone if she were to grow into someone worthy of this position.

She sighed, letting her power run wild in the back of her mind, feeding her snippets of Faultline's sincerity, hopes of gaining favour through a good deal to make up for their first botched pickup...

This was her choice to make, for better or worse.

She didn't know what they would do now that their base was rubble and had a whole bunch of city officials crawling around its corpse, but she knew that an independent power source was practically essential for anyone trying to stay inconspicuous and off the grid, at least without oiling some hands in the power supply companies.

Not that they had a fucking base to put the damn thing in, but Taylor pressed that self-destruct button with too much immediate confidence for someone without a plan.

"Yeah. Send pictures and buy it, bring it to us. Two fifty plus fifty for delivery fee. Three hundred grand. Sound good?"

Faultline waited for one, two, then four seconds.

Just as she was getting annoyed, the woman spoke.

"Sixty five for delivery. It's a long trip from way down the coastline. It'll eat up two or three days at the least, which we could be using for other jobs. That plus defence and tinker budget. Trainwreck's suit and Labyrinth both hate being around the battery, so we'll have to use two vehicles again."

She groaned.

"Sixty for Train's tinkering, and that's final. It doesn't take fifteen grand to drive a second car."

A moment of silence.

"Deal." Faultline said.

"Good luck."

She hung up, and rubbed at her temples.

Why was she worked up over paying ten extra grand?

Coil was literally multiplying their income as she spoke, abusing his power and resources as much as he could now that Taylor was out of commission enough to let him.

Honestly, she just didn't like capitulating to Faultline.

With another sigh, and holy shit was she doing a lot of that these days, she put Taylor's phone back on the desk, trying to ignore the incessant buzzing.

She had no idea what the hell Taylor did to get Bakuda to act like an obsessive, lovesick puppy with a strong streak of mania in it, but it creeped her out to read the messages.

"Yeah, she's not really backing down on the questions. She really wants in, and she's getting really fed up with us dodging the question." Trickster emphasized, and Lisa bit her cheek.

She didn't care too much about Rune's past with the Empire, because from what she gathered from Coil's info on the girl, her situation was painfully relatable to Lisa herself, with the whole 'running away then getting in way over your head on something you didn't know the scope of', bar the nazi stuff, but she still wasn't sure what the hell to do with her.

Rune wanted to leave Brockton. Likely afraid of retaliation from her old gang, and unwilling to target them either.

Their base of operations was in Brockton, however.

Despite her best efforts, she couldn't come up with a way to deal with her. She just didn't know what Taylor wanted to do with the girl.

Additionally, from what she'd observed herself before Cauldron kidnapped her, the girl seemed to have some troubles with authority. She liked the Travellers because Trickster was only their sort of leader, and he wasn't anal about it. It felt like their team was a group of slightly strained friends to the girl.

"Alright. I'll try to figure out something fast. Keep doing as you were."

Trickster grunted something, and she hung up, rubbing at her face.

So much depended on Taylor's word that she honestly wished she cared less about her, so she could just bring up the issue to her and be done with it rather than stall for a few days.

For now, she called up a merc to go grab some pizzas and takeout for the squads in their building again.

She was honestly getting sick of the taste of pizza.

Sacrilegious to her teenage mind, even if she felt far older than she was at times like this.

She sat in the passenger side of an armoured sedan, using the touchpad to move through the clipped recordings the info team gave her.

Trouble. Trouble trouble trouble, always more of it.

Imp had done a fantastic job with the PRT base, to the point where the only place they didn't have bugs in were the tinkers' labs.

Simple recordings were enough to get a very good picture of what was going on in the PRT.

In short, it was pandemonium.

The local director, Miss Piggot, was apparently getting replaced by a man named James Tagg.

It was honestly to be expected.

Capturing Hookwolf and the Valkyrie twins didn't do anything to lessen the blow of Thomas Calvert being uncovered as a local supervillain with multiple plants in the PRT, nor the following near-suicide of a Ward via costume swapping like a moron, nor the perceived failure of Shadow Stalker a few months back, immediately followed by the retaliatory murder of the new Ward she made trigger and forced into an insane asylum for four months.

If Piggot was allowed to keep her position after enraging the Youth Guard and the entire PRT by this extent, it would have been a miracle, but unfortunately, they didn't get that.

She didn't have access to the man's psych profile either, unlike with Piggot.

Piggot would have been perfect for what Taylor seemed to be going for, which was a down-low mutual agreement not to escalate too much into open warfare in the future.

Tagg?

She had no clue. Coil hadn't heard much about the guy other than him being an army man of sorts, which didn't sound great.

The thing was, she couldn't help but think that there might have been some way to prevent this.

She just didn't know what that was.

Taylor had no way of knowing that the PRT would, without a single warning, suddenly discover Coil's civilian identity, likely some kind of play by Cauldron, nor was there any real way for her to know that Clockblocker almost got himself killed because Lisa just brushed the whole incident off when it was fucking mentioned.

She'd been so focused on Coil, and so much started happening all of a sudden, that she was pretty sure Taylor never even heard anything about Clockblocker's chest getting caved in by the Travellers.

If she knew either or both of those, she probably wouldn't have staged her death, or at least not in that specific way, and this might have been avoided.

It was bitter to know the blame for the sudden director change was shared between her and Cauldron, mostly.

She rubbed at her eyes, shifted, sighed, and kept moving through the summary.

Aside from the Wards being on detention, the Director getting replaced, and the new arrests, even more was happening.

For starters, new arrivals.

Fucking four of them.

Two Wards, two heroes.

Not good at all, but could be worse.

On the bright side, Challenger was coming back to the Bay.

Woo…

Fuck, the woman hit heavy too.

Flechette, Weld on the Wards side, Challenger and an unknown on the hero side.

She couldn't help but think this was Cauldron giving them the middle finger somehow.

If Alexandria was working with Cauldron, how much influence did they have in the PRT?

Probably some, but they most likely didn't control the entire organization or anything insane like that. They likely had enough impact to make their lives harder, unfortunately, which was either what was happening, or the main offices caught wind of the colossal scandal that would happen if any of this were to leak and was trying to protect their PR by cleaning the Bay up before anyone's lips got loose.

The newspapers were one single whistleblower away from making the organization implode, and they were also being grilled over the coals by the Youth Guard in private. Piggot was complaining about lawsuits, but the muttering was hard to parse.

Other developments included Lung walking again, unfortunately, Bakuda reporting successful progress on her homemade nuclear bomb, and Imp being a very happy girl with a giant stack of money in her hand for the job she did.

And Taylor was walking and talking again, albeit tiredly.

Now, to talk to Rune and figure out what the girl wanted exactly, so if she couldn't figure out what to do with her, Taylor at least would when she was fine.

She carefully put the laptop in the bag again, and pointed a lazy finger to the windshield.

"Drive."

The man did as asked.

She'd gotten her brain melted before, but doing so through a Legend was somehow less vivid, considering she felt roughly the same amount of pain to then, when she finally went through that damn portal and dropped Mordekaiser.

Cumulative exhaustion was a pain, in both mind and soul, it seemed.

Some part of her worried that no matter how fast her soul and body grew accustomed to the summon core, it would never be enough. Which was stupid, because it most definitely would be for most cases, but the growth was slow.

That's why she felt like she absolutely needed other people to pick up the slack, among a lot of other things.

She still had a day and something before she'd feel alright, but it didn't feel like her brain was cotton made of strands of pure pain anymore, so she could do some simple, braindead tasks she'd been putting off for a few days.

First order of business was to just teleport to her drug chambers and then teleport back to give the Haze bags to one of her drivers to deliver to her mooks, which took about an hour of slow, almost meditative work.

Another was to visit Bakuda.

A text, which Mia replied to within ten seconds, and she was casting Teleport inside the woman's workshop, eyes shut and headphones in place.

Some part of her spine itched at losing her senses like this, but she honestly trusted Mia more than a lot of the people around her when she was at her most useless.

You can't fake being that desperate for attention.

Teleport finished, and she opened her eyes to a familiar workshop, lights thoughtfully turned off except a few hanging yellow Christmas lights along the edges of the room, giving it a warm, cosy vibe.

Movement drew her eyes, and she turned to see Mia, beaming at her with a face-splitting grin, eyes wide and disturbingly focused as she bounced on the balls of her feet, buried waist-deep in something that looked like an rocket engine.

She was also covered in oil, scorch, and grime, which explained why she hadn't attempted to hug her.

Mia's lips moved, and after a second of reading them, she shook her head, very slowly .

Wash yourself first, then we can do whatever you want. We should talk too. I'm also lip reading, so… speak slow and clear, she said softly, not really hearing a word of it herself, and Mia nodded incessantly, scrambling out of the machine and darting to the side to unclip an entire armoury's worth of tools from her belt.

She glanced around the workshop.

Not much had changed. Still a giant, overstuffed basement with racks and rows of grenades.

A second, slower sweep, and her eyes landed on the nuke that Bakuda had committed herself to making for no apparent reason whatsoever.

It was… shaped like a mechanical flower at the moment, almost, a mess of curved plates locking with other plates and with some very tinkertech-looking bombs attached at the inside of each one.

Of course Mia was trying to make a nuke by just making a giant ball of countless tinkertech grenades.

On the upside, the shell was genuinely impressive to look at. The ball joints… mechanical, the bore loaders were small and inconspicuous but they looked sturdy, and what she assumed to be the 'blooming' mechanism to open the thing up was a little bulkier than she'd like, but definitely reliable.

Wow. Good job, she said.

She glanced to the side where Mia was to catch a reply if it was given, and found the woman shamelessly stripping in the corner under an inert showerhead, starting to wiggle her kevlar pants off.

She quickly glanced back to what she assumed was the nuke, considering it was almost as tall as she was and the most complex thing in the shop by far.

This situation was already strange without Mia's shamelessness, she didn't want to make it worse.

She made her way to the couch, and lay back, lowering her eyelids, allowing the soothing mix of warm light and darkness to calm her.

The sight of Christmas lights was comforting. Soothing to the pounding in her skull.

A time she could honestly say she missed, when everything was simple and happy.

Ten minutes later, Mia's excited, smiling face entered her vision, thankfully covered by some baggy, comfy clothes, and she went to get up.

Mia instantly moved down to help her up, unnecessarily, and sat down where her back and shoulders were, allowing her to drop back down onto her lap.

The first thing she asked was a question that was eating at her.

Do you want me to change you back? To something more akin to your old self?

Mia's smile faded as she blinked at her repeatedly, then her brows furrowed. Her eyes tightened, and a hand rose to rub at them as Mia shook her head. Her lips moved, slow and obvious, her hand dropping as her lips slowly curled back into that wide, wide smile.

No. It's never been easier to be happy than now. I know I'm nuts and creepy, but just thinking about you makes me smile and want to dance. Or something close to that. Been a long time since she last did so much lip-reading.

Something in her speech slurred or repeated, because she couldn't understand what followed, but cohesion returned quickly.

There are times when I feel a bit miserable because I'm being ignored, but I know you're busy, and now you're here and I'm fighting not to squeal. I've never been this happy before. Can I braid your hair?

She closed her eyes, sighing.

She felt a lot better about what she did to Mia now, but it would probably still nag at her for a while.

Sure. Be careful. They're my best physical feature. She replied, and Mia nodded three or four times in quick succession, starting to very slowly and very gently gather her hair from where it was splayed out on her lap.

It would be a lot easier to relax if she wasn't practically foaming at the mouth to get back to work and work even harder and faster, but this… this definitely helped.

Lisa and Coil had done a great job so far, but two and a half days were hardly a big sample size.

Have you started working out? She asked, noting the more firm meat under her head, and Mia's mouth dropped, one of her hands covering her mouth as she began to lightly bounce in place.

It was mildly creepy and strange, but also cute.

And painful because her head was getting jostled a bit by the movement.

Yes! Holy fuck you noticed! Mia said, or most likely squealed, and she tried to give her a smile, patting her hip.

Good job. Calm down a bit if you can though.

Mia settled down instantly, biting her lip and nodding with a wide, proud smile, then resuming the hair braiding.

She just looked at her, and couldn't help but feel a fond affection.

She wasn't sure on what exactly the ethics of this situation were, but she honestly really liked Mia. Or the version of her she made through brute force mindrape. And the 'victim' herself seemed more than fine with it.

You didn't have to be at the frontline in that fight with Lung, you know? She asked rhetorically.

Mia's smile instantly dropped, and she nodded.

I know. Sorry. I wanted to prove I'm not just good at making bombs but also throwing them at the very least. I messed it up.

She patted the side of her waist in a sort of… there, there manner.

It's okay. Just try not to do things like that. It's perfectly fine to only be good at making incredible things rather than using them. You're too important to lose in some meaningless scuffle.

A smile wiggled back onto Mia's lips, quivering with an attempt to smooth itself out like a cat happy to be petted but not willing to show it and fighting the reaction of a purr.

Do you want to hear about the nuke? Mia asked in an attempt to change the topic, a bright gleam in her eyes.

Some part of her, the remnants of Jinx, practically wanted to jump up and scream fuck yes.

Taylor herself squashed that, and just nodded, feeling genuinely curious and inwardly, a bit excited about the prospect of such destruction. The look, the rush, the shockwave... she missed explosives.

Spending a day in silence with Bakuda ranting about her bombs, eating takeout, and getting her hair braided as she gave feedback on the nuke, like giving it a microbe-sterilising property through Tinker bullshit, and getting her entire back massaged by her minion on a sunken couch?

Therapeutic beyond what she'd first imagined, in all honesty.

She spent hours engaged and interested, in that relaxed, background kind of way, and by the time she Teleported back into the leaky warehouse they called home, she genuinely felt better. Lighter.

Next time she wanted to drag Lisa along so she would get used to working with people she didn't want to.

The amount of glares she threw at Coil for no seeming reason as Taylor crashed on the couch in the corner was a tad excessive.

Notes:

Imp's power is just my headcanon idk how they truly work in canon

Chapter 38

Notes:

Next chapter will make this chapter make more sense, hopefully. Ah, the wonders of cockblock-style writing.

Tyvm for all the comments and love, see you soonish, probably

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It was hard to describe the constant, genuine torture that a migraine of this caliber was.

It wasn't just a migraine, it was her soul shredding and rebuilding itself to adapt to the summon core, and that only added to the pain, like drinking acid then a jug of lemon juice right after just to get it into those wounds real nice and deep. Conceptual pain, washing over the physical pain.

It was a hypertension in the veins around her head, a phantom sensation as if they were wriggling against the bone like living worms, that feeling like there was an ever-building pressure from the inside out from within her skull, that feeling of an odd pressure on the bridge of her nose and that scraping pain behind each eye mixing with a pain not unlike someone twisting a jagged spike of glass between the two halves of her brain, those were the things rendering her a complete vegetable for the better part of two days.

Learning on the third day that she apparently gave herself severe brain damage in the process of taking Alexandria and escaping, told to her by a silently annoyed Lisa, made her pause and silently be thankful for the Heal summoner spell.

So despite her desire to work, she gave it one more day after relaxing with Bakuda before she got to work, rather than none.

Maybe she'd remember what it was like to not be in pain again. That would be nice.

She still caught up on some of the lighter workload, of course. Absorbing information was frustrating and painful, but it didn't worsen her headache, so she spent her day very very slowly reading reports.

Catching up on what she'd missed was sobering.

Three days, and so much had happened already.

New PRT Director, Lung planning a counterattack on the Empire in their turf within the next day or two, Rune, Imp bugging The Rig, Coil using his shell identities and proxies to salvage whatever of his assets he could while the PRT declared him a national traitor.

She refrained from planning things out just yet, because she honestly didn't trust her ability to think clearly yet, but she went to sleep thinking of one thing in particular.

Those girls in Lung's club, the night she went to save Lisa.

"You sure you're alright?" Lisa asked for the umpteenth time, and she slowly rolled her head back, massaging the back of her neck.

She couldn't tell if the headache originated from there or if that sensation of pinched pain was something that was purely in her head.

"For fighting? No. For doing anything but using some of the basic shared powers? Absolutely not." She replied slowly, rolling her head in a careful circle. "But for planning and talking a little? I can do that just fine. It's been almost four days, Lisa. Coil's working himself to the bone out of guilt, I don't need you doing that too."

Lisa made a dubious sound, tapping her fingers on the table, other hand caressing the handle of the giant revolver tucked against her ribs as if it would reassure her.

"Well, I won't deny the help at this point. I have zero clue what to do with Rune."

She hummed.

"Do you think your assessment is accurate after the talk you had with her?"

Lisa nodded, leaning back to stare at the ceiling with her hands behind her head, her chair creaking with the motion.

"Yeah. She's not hard to read at all."

She nodded.

"Then this shouldn't be too hard. Worst case scenario, we're forced to imprison her until I can write a blood contract and then release her to go off and do whatever she wants."

Lisa groaned.

"How can you say shit like this without sounding the least bit worried?"

She shrugged.

"In my head, everything that can go wrong is inevitable. Even if it doesn't happen. Mental trick to not dwell on losses and just move on without stumbling. Works alright."

Lisa turned to her, making a strange, skeptical expression.

"So you… what, trick yourself into expecting everything to explode in your face so you won't be phased if it does?"

She nodded.

"I imagine it too. Easier to predict or consider outcomes that way. Plans and plans for things that might never happen."

"That sounds halfway between psychotic and genius." Lisa mumbled, her tone considering as she turned back to the ceiling.

"Hnm. I'm calling her in." She replied, and lifted the receiver to her mouth. "Liam, bring her in."

A moment of silence, before an affirmative was buzzed through with light static.

"How do you know everyone's name?" Lisa whisper-shouted, exasperated.

She tapped her lips, picking Evelynn and shapeshifting into a womanly replica of Coil's costume.

"The blood tracking power. He's at the door by the way, shush." She said, then changed her voice.

In the background of her head, she tried to feel for any exertion.

Holding Evelynn and shapeshifting shouldn't take much if any power comparatively, but she was still a bit cautious from the Mordekaiser incident.

That and her head still hurt like a bitch.

The door clicked open, and the merc stepped aside for Rune to walk in.

She looked like a rookie, with her casual clothes and the facemask plus domino mask combo she was rocking to hide her identity.

Lisa was leaning back, Coil was working in the back corner right behind her, and Taylor was lounging on an armchair to the side. The air was thankfully casual enough for the girl to thoughtlessly plop herself into the couch by the door.

Good. She wasn't tense, at least.

"Am I finally going to get an answer, or…?" Rune trailed off, crossing her legs, leaning on the armrest.

"You're going to get many answers." She said, and Rune glanced at her, then did a double take. A moment later, she looked to Lisa, and finally noticed Coil in the corner just past her, the air quickly tainting with suspicious confusion.

"... This is some sketchy shit, isn't it?" Rune breathed out in realization, glancing suspiciously between the three of them, and Taylor forced out a chuckle.

"What isn't, in this line of work?" She replied, and crossed her legs lounging back to appear as relaxed as can be. "So, for introductions. I'm nobody and my name doesn't matter. The information I'll be sharing with you will only be shared because you could be a very useful asset to us if you were to fully join up. For starters, I work for Summoner. And so do the Travellers, Coil, and Insight, formerly Tattletale. So if you were hoping to join the Travellers, be aware that their moniker isn't exactly accurate anymore. They'll be stationed in the Bay for a while, though we might send them around to do some chores. And if you still wish to join them, be aware that you'd be joining this secret circle of sorts."

Rune's apprehension and nerves slowly flared as she talked, and Taylor spread out a hand in a soothing manner, rolling her joints and fingers to smoothen the motion and draw her eye.

"Now, of course, this is not much different from a job interview, but be aware this is not a mere job. We're an organization."

"What're you called?" Rune asked, tense but genuinely curious, tilting her head a smidge.

"Nexus." She replied without missing a beat, then waved her hand in a 'moving on' fashion, rolling her wrist. "Summoner controls our organization, and nobody but a very, very select few are allowed to know anything about them. Do not expect to get information on them. Now, the specifics of our morals and mission statement are important, but they can wait until after you've felt us out a little more. Don't want to be asking too much from you to begin with."

A slight flare of irritation, and Rune crossed her arms.

"No offence, but get to the point?"

Good. She was annoyed with the flowery language she was using to get the girl impatient, but it was one of the steps in this song and dance.

"Bluntly put, the discussion should be about what you want, and what we can provide in exchange for having you onboard. Consider this like a job, and you'll climb high with good work. Consider this as a mission and a personal calling, and you'll climb even higher."

Rune made a short grunt of acknowledgement, a mixture of feelings best described as "interest" rising in the air.

"The first thing you should know if you join, is that we're more morally aligned with vigilantes than villains. We Master unredeemable villains, and for redeemable ones, we put them in the same chair you're in and talk. Heroes are fine to join too, if they don't mind our dubious mode of operation."

Rune stiffened, her eyes widening as they jerked to Lisa.

Lisa scoffed.

"Oh piss off Rune, I'm not mastered. I didn't do anything all that fucked up, so I didn't deserve it. I just joined the normal way. Coil, who was our employer back then, killed my whole team via Lung, all teenagers mind you, and tried to groom a literal child to use her superpowers for himself, so he got the full whammy treatment." Lisa interjected, jerking a thumb to Coil behind her.

"All true." Coil's quiet voice followed.

Rune was as tightly wound as a spring now, but it was best to rip off the bandaid from the start.

With a noisy gulp, the girl nodded.

"Okay. That's… I can get that." Rune slowly nodded.

Her emotions tasted… conflicted .

"Hm, good. Now, the second thing to know if you wish to join, is that you're likely going to end up working with people you hated or were enemies with, considering your position. We're looking into getting a couple of the Empire folk into our midst, and I'm afraid they're not as redeemable as you."

Rune's jaw worked side to side. "And who decides who is and isn't redeemable?" She asked.

"Summoner." She replied simply. "Everyone in the Empire barring Cricket and Othala have entire ledgers full of hate crimes, murders, kidnappings, extortion charges, the list goes on and on. They also don't have the excuse of young recklessness and confusion like you and Insight, for example, so you're not in danger just for having some unsavoury opinions that you never even acted on, don't worry."

Rune did feel a slight hint of relief, but the apprehension remained. She wasn't comfortable with being faced by something this large when she was just trying to join a small team and get out of dodge.

"The third thing to know, is that sometimes, you'll be told to do something, and you'll just have to do it. Sometimes you'll have to act like a soldier. Not all missions are safe to describe or explain. The fourth, is that the benefits for doing good work and keeping one's mouth zipped, are substantial." She finished, and motioned to Lisa.

Lisa sighed, and Rune's eyes went to her.

"Right, so. This is kind of a sales pitch thing to show that if you do good work, you're rewarded, and you are listened to. Like me, pretty much." Lisa started, and rolled one of her sleeves down, pointing a finger at her wrist, or rather, the inordinately shiny silken bodysuit she wore over it.

"This stuff? Three or four times stronger than steel. Not exactly Tinkertech, but definitely good enough to fistfight the guy and call it a draw. I'm essentially covered in three to four inches of steel from ankle to neck. Got this first. Yes it's really fucking warm, but I can take a shotgun to the gut point blank and only leave with a bruise." Lisa started, then pointed at the black bracelet on her wrist, poking and rolling it.

"This stuff? Also Tinkertech, from what I understand. Stamina and healing recovery multiplier. I can sleep like two hours and feel like I'm sleeping eight. I heal four times faster than normal. I've been here for just over two weeks."

Rune leaned forward a little, elbows on her knees, her interest skyrocketing.

Some people were really simplistic.

Rune was that exact type.

As long as she didn't feel too smothered and controlled, as long as she felt valued and respected, she would be a very happy girl.

So the entire pitch was to show her exactly what she wanted.

Progression, achievement, reward, respect.

Lisa grabbed a piece of rebar she'd put on her desk, then raised it so Rune could see it.

"And this little upgrade… " Lisa started, then grabbed the ends of the piece of rebar, starting to pull and twist with a choked grunt.

Her hands and arms shook violently in the process, but the piece of rebar bent and bent, until her knuckles were touching on the ends. She shook out her left hand, and raised the bar with her right to show off its bent shape to a stunned Rune.

"Was for being trustworthy. I got a little Brute package on top of my normal power. I can't exactly fistfight Alexandria, but I'm definitely on the low end of superhuman. " Lisa finished, putting the piece of rebar down with a clink.

"In case things like that don't motivate you, we also just pay in cold hard cash. We pay a retainer salary, but when we call, we do expect our agents to respond or be kicked out under a power-enforced NDA. That's the plan we gave Spitfire and Imp, for example. Imp did a job for us and got fifty grand for it. Spitfire is a bit more of a niche case to find a use for. But you… " She trailed off, tilting her head as if considering.

Rune looked at her, her feelings a mix of anticipation, apprehensive interest, and a covetous feeling of greed.

"We could use you for regular jobs, yes, but we can also use you as a weapon of mass destruction in the case of escalation."

Rune reeled back a bit, shaking her head.

"Wait, wuuhuuat? I just throw shit, I'm not a blaster." Rune said, took a quarter out of her pocket, and made it slowly orbit her head, gesturing to it in a ' see?' sort of manner.

"That is because you haven't gotten creative with it. Tell me, Rune, what do you think would happen if you were to simply run your hand over a giant box of grenades? What if you were to start pulling the pins? Could you not become a walking carpet bomber? Hook a finger through ten pins, pull, throw, repeat?"

Rune leaned back, taking in a deep breath through her mouth, blinking at her.

Lisa turned to her with wide eyes as well, not having expected that.

"I- uh… that's… really expensive."

She waved her hand dismissively.

Coil got their income up to twenty million a year by abusing his power as much as he could while she was a vegetable, and also started three offshore online casinos. They'd probably make more money than they could spend in a few months.

"That's for us to worry about. Now, tell me, what do you think would happen if you did the same thing... to a box of tinkertech grenades? Or a couple tons of C4 that the army uses to flatten buildings? "

Rune gulped, audibly.

"Oh. I uh…" Rune said, then covered her mouth over the facemask, glancing to the side. "Holy fuck. I could level half the city." The girl muttered, wide eyed, her emotions a mix of awe, horror, and inflating self-importance.

"We'd rather you didn't, but the possibility is there. We just need to get you to a good vantage point, and you can carpet bomb a place with perfect accuracy."

Rune turned to her, her arms shaking imperceptibly.

"Uh, no offence, but what the fuck would you ever need that much destructive power for?" Rune asked, and she cracked her neck.

"To turn Ellisburg into a burning memory, for example." She provided, and Rune went even more still, eyes wide enough to look a little comical. "That is what Nexus does. We take the monsters and enslave them to do good…" She trailed off, calmly gesturing to Coil as if a show woman on a stage. "Or, we exterminate them."

Her hand dropped to her lap.

"Before long, this city will belong to Summoner, and by extension, Nexus. If you join us, you might have to fight alongside your old comrades, now Mastered to be loyal to Nexus. You might have to fight alongside your old enemies, like Skidmark. You will have to listen and do what you're told sometimes, like a soldier would, and the price of betrayal is the same as with any operation in this kind of underworld. But in exchange, you will have all the support you could ever need, resources, and enough power and safety to never have to run away again."

Somehow, Rune didn't catch the insinuation that they knew of her past, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

"And, of course, if you can immerse yourself in an ideal that isn't centred around race and politics, a cause to believe in . We will make this world better, and Brockton is the first step. It must be, within reason. That is what we offer. Alternatively, if you decline, you'll have to wait a few days for us to draft a power-driven NDA contract that means you won't be allowed to reveal any of the information I've given you to anyone, and then be free to go on your merry way."

Rune gulped again, then cleared her throat, rubbing it and barely stopping herself from fidgeting.

"That's… a lot, lady." Rune choked out, uncrossing her legs to lean forward, chin in her hands, thumbs at her jawline.

"Hnm. Well, we like to operate on the assumption that people appreciate blunt honesty more than obscure 'need-to-know' b.s." She casually said with a shrug, fully aware that she was lying through her teeth because she lied and obscured a lot, especially with those in her employ who were weaker and could be snatched up by anyone with a Master sidekick to ruin her entire operation. Like unpowered people.

A minute passed in silence, the only activity in the room being Lisa giving her side-glances that screamed ' were you serious?' every once in a while. She had a mask exactly like Coil's as her face however, so she couldn't exactly silently emote to her, only whispering a 'yes' inside her mind to appease her curiosity.

Another minute passed, Rune's indecisiveness growing.

"Can I uh, get a couple days to think about this? This sounds like- like way more serious shit than what I was looking for. This sounds more serious than the Empire. I don't think I'm ready for this kinda stuff."

She frowned.

"Just in case I gave you a wrong impression, I'm not saying we'll only use you for gang wars or for mass destruction. Not at all. Most of your day to day won't change that much. Cape skirmishes, some patrols, you might get a small support squad of mercenaries to accompany you, might have to rough up some heroes, et cetera. It's just a possibility. Do you still want to take a few days to think about this?"

Rune shifted.

The girl was tempted. The girl was really tempted. But whatever thoughts were going through her mind kept making apprehension rise just a little bit higher than that temptation.

Rune nodded.

"Yeah. Give me a week, I'll tell you then. Can I still crash at the safehouse with the Travellers or am I getting kicked out?"

She made a dismissive motion.

"No no, feel free to stay. We'll talk in a week then. Take care."

Rune mumbled something out, rubbing at her neck, her coin orbiting her a little more aggressively than before as she rose up and walked out of the door.

The guard closed it, and Lisa leaned forward to groan.

"Holy shit, how do you make everything sound so dire and serious? " Lisa asked, and she dropped Evelynn to sigh.

"Depending on the case, I kind of have to be. I don't know what I might ask of someone when I get them by my side, but if I give them a false impression or a wrong idea of what to expect, they might reach a breaking point where they decide to turn on me. If I tell Rune I only want her to be a basic cape for muscle, then randomly decide to use her with Bakuda's bombs to glass Ellisburg into ash, she might naturally be extremely unprepared and stressed."

Lisa made a dubious face.

"Mentality and pressure are the most important things when it comes to managing people to fight in a war when they're not trained soldiers." She explained further, fighting not to dive back into her memories of trying to wrangle civilians and foreign populations into some kind of cohesive formation to face the Void in their last stand.

"Trained soldiers don't register pressure as much because they've been broken down or are simply used to it. That is the entire purpose of military training. That is what drill sergeants are meant for, and what every military wants. A perfect soldier is not a person, but an intelligent, methodical killing machine. When I don't have that, and I'm not sure I want to have that, my only option is to plan what I want to do with my people to the best of my ability and try to manage problems before they pop up. Like not randomly dragging Rune to smoke an S-class threat in the middle of the American countryside and expecting her to just roll with it without problems or hiccups. The soft pitch worked on Spitfire and Imp because we were their only option, and they didn't have much desire to strike it out on their own or leave. Rune is biting her nails to get out of the Bay, and you said she wanted either independence, or a feeling of advancement, or being important. I gave her so much of what she wanted with the latter two, that she's overwhelmed. She will join once she calms down a bit."

Lisa stared at her, her expression turning thoughtful and introspective, earnestly paying attention like a student in class.

"That… wow. I keep forgetting you've got uh, capes in your head." Lisa mumbled, and she snorted, tapping the side of her forehead gently because her head still hurt horribly.

"I don't have capes in my head, I was them. Now, tell SS to come back and stop orbiting her house and trying to approach her mom for the tenth time. It's been four days, she's not getting accepted back. If she cared about her mom that much she shouldn't have fucked us both over." She said simply, then dragged her phone out to catch up on reports.

"I think I accidentally started a new gang war right as I stopped the last one in its tracks." She mumbled, rubbing at her forehead.

"Maybe pulling all of our men back was a bad call on my part…" Lisa mumbled, rubbing at her face with an air of pure stress. "How bad is it?"

She tilted her head.

"Not that bad. Merchants are trying to butt into our territory, thinking we're gone 'cause the secret base isn't so secret anymore, being a hole and all that. Lung's going to move tomorrow into Empire territory. He doesn't care about us much anymore. Hookwolf is getting moved into max security next week, unfortunately, but the twins are being moved tomorrow. Around when Lung wants to hit the Empire. I don't think that's a coincidence. Lung somehow knows as well. He's going to strike at their territory while they're trying to get their losses back. And without the capes there, most of it is just going to be him torching Empire safehouses uncontested, if he knows where they are, at least until Purity gets back to him."

Lisa peeked up at her, and frowned.

"So why the fuck are you smiling?"

She smiled wider, baring her teeth, eyes half-lidded to limit the light coming in from the cracked window and torching her eyes.

"Three birds with one stone. I think it's time for 'Summoner' to start building a reputation around these parts. In the underworld, that's the shield and sword."

Lisa frowned deeper, and gestured around them.

"What about any of this screams 'time to make ourselves known' to you? Like, obviously you're way better at this than me, but logic is screaming at me that we should keep our head down."

She leaned back, and spread her hands.

"We're too spread out to hurt in any way that matters, and the things that do matter have a small, concealed army surrounding them. We're actually quite alright at the moment, though I would prefer a stable, super secure base. That, and t he clock is ticking. We need to go faster. "

So many things were piling up in the back of her head. She couldn't afford to slow down if the Cauldron bastards were truthful with her. She had to get stronger fast, in every way conceivable. Authority especially.

Lisa looked at her like she was insane.

" Faster? It's barely been two weeks since you came back from the asylum and you've got this- " She gestured around them, "-already. How much faster are you planning to go?"

She pretended to think really hard, looking up at the ceiling like it held answers.

"Yes." She simply replied, shoulders shaking with a silent chuckle.

Lisa rolled her eyes, grumbling something to herself.

Well, time to launch another one of her objectives.

"I'm calling the Travellers. It's high time they paid homage to their name. And tomorrow… three birds, one stone."

Lisa huffed.

"Okay dark and broody, gonna tell me what that means or will you keep speaking in villain quotes?"

"Shush. Evilly plotting my villainous plots right now."

"You're such a fucking nerd." Lisa groaned.

"This nerd is going to get a pet fucking dragon." She grinned, feeling nerves ramp up her spine.

Lisa's head jerked up with a wide eyed look, which slowly turned into a glare.

"Is your headache gone?"

"My headache can eat shit. Lung's more important than my recovery or our base."

Lisa huffed.

"And the other two birds?"

She opened her mouth, paused.

"Shouldn't Faultline be exiting Boston sometime soon?"

Lisa blinked at her, and nodded.

She hummed, tapping her fingers on the chair, her other hand rubbing her temples.

So many possibilities, so little time.

She'd just have to settle for three measly birds and a couple feathers.

"I'm going to call her to pick up an extra package. Going to use our favour on this. No, you can't know what it is. Some things I'm the only one who should know. Sorry."

Lisa glanced at the side with a deep breath, made a ' what can you do' sort of expression, then turned back to her with a sigh.

"Okay, but the two other birds you mentioned aren't a part of that, so, tell me."

She shifted.

"Right. First, we're going to need a space to house… about two hundred and fifty people total, and a trustworthy fed we can keep at arms length, that isn't corrupt or connected to the gangs in any way. I think Coil's got a few of those in a folder, just in case he wanted to give anonymous info on his enemies to them."

"I do." Coil quietly piped up, and she gave him a thumbs up that he didn't see.

Lisa's gaze turned deadpan.

"This is going to fucking suck, isn't it?"

"It's not going to be glamorous or cool, but we'll do something good. Purely good, for once. Open a general mission form for the tech team to send to the strike teams, explain the plan as I tell you."

Lisa nodded, and turned to the computer, cracking her fingers.

She observed her picks.

All people she'd gotten blood samples of and Mastered.

"Gentlemen. Do not draw attention to yourselves, at all. Remain glued to your posts until further notice. Once I've dealt with the first batch, you will move on to the second batch, and then immediately rush to the last two. The file has everything you need to know in it, but I'm going to state this again. Nothing traceable. No security cameras, one single burner phone, no cards, purely mechanical vehicles, all rentals, low tech motels, change clothes frequently, everything outlined in the security section. Understood?"

A mute, almost synchronized nod from the five men.

"Good. Your flights all leave tonight, some sooner than others. Go."

They saluted in a bunch of different ways, some doing classic American salutes, some doing African ones and one doing a... European one? Something quite odd to see even without their civilian clothes.

They scattered to their vehicles.

With that taken care of, she had another hundred mercenaries to mobilise and organise for a type of mission she was sure they were not familiar with.

And some PR to prepare, just in case she needed it. This new Director seemed like a pain.

She flickered, opened her phone, and called a familiar number. A ring, two.

"Hello?"

"Maria. I need you to do something." She said, not bothering to change her voice.

The woman gasped.

" Oh, of course! Right now?"

"It's a process, but I want you to begin today. I'll send an encrypted file with instructions, password is the day we met. Give it five minutes."

" Alright!"

"Have a good day, Maria."

" Thank you T-, er, Sam. You too."

She flickered back to herself and to Evelynn again, fast enough to seem instantaneous, ended the call, and dug a stack of golden glowing cards out of her jacket, waving over the nearest mercenary, barely visible through the afternoon murk and the stacks of supplies in the way, half-covered in tarps.

He came to her, and she handed him the stack.

"Don't drop these. Take them to the TMN safehouse just over, give them to Rune. Tell her they're stun cards, as a gift from upper management."

He nodded, and immediately rushed off.

God, she fucking loved how professional these guys were. So much time saved on pleasantries and managed egos.

Evelynn and Mastering just helped that along even more, even if she hadn't Mastered all of them yet.

She rolled her neck with a slight sigh of relief.

She'd almost forgotten what it was like to not be wearing earphones or earplugs of varying degrees.

Brockton Bay stretched out before her, warm midday sunlight crawling over urban decay, caressing the shattered sidewalks and bringing life to the reeds popping out between the cracked bits of concrete. A soft sea breeze mixed with rust and smoke wafted into her nostrils as she leaned back, eyes half-lidded, sitting against a power box on an abandoned factory, seven stories up and feeling like the world was suddenly oh so insignificant, the thick concrete rough against her pants as she shifted.

Her hand gently brushed up and down her phone, waiting for the buzz as she enjoyed the peace before the storm.

Five minutes passed.

Ten.

Finally, it came, and she opened her phone.

L: driving

L: 20 mins

She liked how Lee texted.

She turned her head up, enjoyed the last bit of relative peace she'd find for a bit, prayed to gods that didn't exist that her headache wouldn't coast back into a migraine by the time she was done, and got up, sitting on the edge and flicking to the custom blackbox app her men used to communicate.

She typed a simple message, rushed through two passwords, checked all the team captains, and send it.

Go.

She didn't have to wait more than thirty seconds for the first eruption of full-auto gunfire to crack through the rumbling background buzz of cars moving through Coil's territory.

Much as it felt like a waste, a message had to be sent.

She already got some of the extra feathers.

Now, to wait for the PRT to foolishly send people to check what's going on, and get the birds.

Notes:

Lisa: I think we should slow down a bi-

Taylor: WE FLOOR IT

Lisa: WHY-

Taylor: FASTER

Chapter 39

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

She picked Evelynn, as per usual, and flew high over the Bay.

Her territory was covered in gunfire, and soon, dead Merchants would litter the gutters where rats like them crept through, whether those gutters were literal or not.

It wasn't unheard of for gangs to use the sewers to smuggle drugs.

Thankfully, having professional soldiers eased her mind about accidentally killing any innocent people. Trigger discipline was generally good, and very few of them were war criminals.

… When she put it like that, it actually sounded significantly less reassuring.

But all that was a mere distraction.

She turned, an invisible mass of smoke, and flew towards Empire territory, switching to the Rune of Domination and locking in the Predator effect, thinking of Oni Lee as her prey.

Almost immediately, the Predator effect ramped up and she sped to twice the speed of the average car, a thin trail of translucent red ribbons of energy following behind her as she dove up towards the clouds.

Two minutes later, Ultimate Hunter pointed her down, and so she dove down, swapping Runes to get rid of the effect.

Below, a simple, nondescript Honda Civic calmly moved down the street, and cut to the right, towards an equally unassuming apartment building.

One that she was sure was only open to Empire members.

All she had to do now was wait.

So she did, materialising on the lip of an opposing roof and calmly watching as the car slowly rolled to a stop on the curb, almost politely so.

Oni Lee and Lung walked out of the car, swinging the doors shut and walking with casual disregard towards anyone watching.

She switched to the Rune of Resolve for the sub-effect of Overgrowth, and burst into invisible smoke again, floating closer.

If people had to die here, the least she could do was hover around to steal some of the fading lifeforce off their corpses with Overgrowth.

After punching Alexandria, she felt much more solid in her base form, even if she didn't have enough lifeforce to start Qi training just yet, so every bit counted.

Since her base state was additive to any Legend she equipped, her real body was almost more important than any one Legend she could think of.

Lifeforce excess also helped her recover from overusing the summon core. It might have taken her a bit under a week to recover if not for Alexandria's generous contribution.

She floated close enough to hear what they were saying.

Turns out, it was nothing.

Neither of them were men of many words.

One of the pretend-bums lounging around the front steps finally saw them, and his eyes bugged out as he opened his mouth, tensing his legs.

A blink of an eye later, in the middle of the man jumping to his feet, a second Oni Lee had a giant combat knife shoved through the soft spot of his chin and into his brain, the clone left behind pausing and watching as the man briefly jerked, pawed at Oni Lee's mask, then collapsed on the steps, crimson pouring down his front and down the steps.

Lee wiped the knife on his vest.

The man's soul detached from his body, and his lifeforce detached from his soul, like a doll falling apart at the stop of his heart.

Overgrowth plucked a piece of that fading lifeforce and shoved it into her.

It didn't feel much like anything, simply like she had a few seconds of idle rest, but if it was even noticeable, it was worth it. One little piece at a time, she'd grow tougher.

Oni Lee stepped around the man, and moved to the back of the building as Lung strolled in over the corpse, fire wreathing his fists as his eyes began to softly glow.

There wasn't anything she would be doing here, so she floated close to the man's corpse, and felt at his soul, idly, not wanting to strain herself at all before it was time to.

There wasn't much the soul could really do here, in this world. There was no afterlife nor spirit realm for it to go to, so it would just sit here in a void-like limbo until it faded into nothing with time. Depending on the man's will and the soul's weight and strength, that could be anywhere from a couple days to a decade.

She inwardly hummed, wracking her brain as the first blasts of fire and screaming began to sound out from the building to her right, largely ignoring it.

Souls…

Some Legends could put souls to good use.

They were also a wonderful forge ingredient, however dark and immoral the practise might have been considered in Runeterra. Here, the souls wouldn't go anywhere regardless of what she did with them, so that moral dilemma was eliminated. She could make some wonderful artefacts with a few hundred souls…

She had to do a quick experiment.

She looked to her right, at the broken lobby wreathed in fire and a couple charred corpses, and flew in.

She picked Thresh, The Chain Warden, softly landing on the melting linoleum floor with metal greaves.

Instantly, the idle souls in the lobby and just outside grew a little more corporeal, his unworldly presence distorting the world just enough for them to be visible as green motes of softly bobbing lights, like candle flames.

To her, they were far more vivid and descriptive. Like little animated snow globes, showing her the essence of who that person used to be.

Without much delay, she stepped through the flames, and lazily swung her lantern close to the souls by its chain, brushing over the flaking corpses' bodies.

Expectedly so, the souls flew into the lantern, pulled in by its grasp as if magnetised.

Mordekaiser's mace, Nightfall, was just a gigantic, modified version of Thresh's lantern. It took in souls, chewed them into soulfire, and spit them out for power and violence.

Thresh's lantern on the other hand, was simply a prison for the souls. Storage, so to speak, so the sadistic spectre could bring them back to his broken mausoleum and torture them for all of eternity.

She raised the lantern up to her face, stepping to the side slightly to avoid a direct sightline with the street outside, and curiously watched the two souls swirl and bob along their infinite prison.

Better than oblivion, as far as she was concerned, but not by much.

She flickered back to Evelynn, and with a simple hope, turned back to Thresh, lantern in hand right where it used to be.

The souls were still there.

That opened up so many possibilities. She could theoretically store souls for however long she wished.

She turned back to Evelynn, and flew back out through the flames before banking upwards, sticking to the outside balconies and slowly rising to match Lung's rampage through the apartment building as he torched what had to be hundreds of thousands dollars worth of supplies, drugs, and manpower, content to wait for her bounty of souls.

If Oni Lee did as planned, she'd get her visual cover very soon, and she could move in to snatch some souls. Maybe she should stalk back to her territory tonight and catch some of the Merchant's souls as well.

More gunshots sounded out, and three minutes in, with the lower half of the building bellowing flames and smoke like the angry roots of a forge, Lung stopped and began to make his way back down the staircase.

She dashed up to the building's rooftop, ignored the locked door being rattled by a panicked group, and flickered, phone in hand.

Only one Hero showed up to the pandemonium her men unleashed, alongside two dozen police cars.

Thankfully her men weren't morons and were currently using the exit and retreat routes to lose the cops rather than fighting them.

Which was perfect, because Brockton Bay police might be about thirty to forty percent gang lackeys, but the rest were the only thing keeping this city somewhat upright. She'd need them in the future, no sense killing innocent, good people.

Mostly.

It wasn't going exactly according to plan, but it had worked.

Her idea had been to draw PRT resources towards her men right as the transport began with a Bakuda bomb to make people think capes were involved. That way, by the time Lung began his rampage, the heroes would already be engaged in two different activities, guarding the convoy from the Empire and chasing her men. Lung could rampage through Empire territory without any heroes interfering.

After Lung and her defence of her territory started, the secondary objective would start, and her remaining men would regroup and sweep through the ABB's human trafficking business. Lung would be busy, there would be believable reasons for Bakuda and Lee to not get involved, the Empire would be busy, the heroes would be busy… her men would have complete free reign to quickly bulldoze through Lung's primary business, even if something went horribly wrong and she ended up not getting Lung under her thumb.

Inwardly, she was still a little nervous about giving over any of the girls to the official authorities.

Perhaps she was overly paranoid, but she did not trust the Brockton Bay police with handling trafficking victims, especially this many of them. She understood that roughly less than half of the police officers were corrupt, but when talking about a police force, that was still a horrid track record.

Hence, Coil got them a generally trustworthy FBI agent based in Washington who would be very grateful to them for making his career. After all, if it was merely her men who did the entire rescue operation and transport, there wouldn't be any need for the PRT to get involved.

Great as that plan was, it had holes, and already, one of them was blown open. She hadn't expected the PRT to send one Hero to the shootout.

The door continued to rattle behind her, and she briefly debated opening it, before discarding the idea with an annoyed sigh.

The building was going to ex-

Right on queue, four bizarre, almost bell-like scrapes and pops sounded out from below, and a shockwave moved through the building.

She flickered to store her phone back with her real self, and burst into smoke again, flying off and turning to watch the building be wracked by vibrations one wouldn't find in historical earthquakes, undulating and twisting, plaster and concrete snapping piece by piece in seconds all over the building, balconies crumbling to the bare rebar within, windows breaking and feeding fresh air to the fires below.

Then, almost like a planned demolition, a testament to Bakuda's mastery, it just collapsed in on itself, the resulting dust wave mixing with the fires below.

She dashed down as it fell, rushing around the building, feeling bits of lifeforce rush within her piecemeal from the dead and dying inside.

Fun fact she learned from her many, many, many days spent making makeshift explosives in Zaun and Piltover…

Many, if not most types of dust can be detonated if their particles are fine enough and closely packed enough to create combustion.

She jerked to a halt in sheer surprise as the building exploded, a relatively dry burst of flame before it extinguished, leaving her startled and expecting immense amounts of pain for a moment before she remembered that she was currently incorporeal.

The explosion could barely be called such, there was no concussive force to it, but the sound was loud.

With only a bit of internal annoyance, she moved above the building, picked Thresh once more, and dropped like a rock within the swirling dust cloud, the chain leading to her lantern rattling through her gauntlet as it extended out like a living thing, prodding and floating, swimming through the dust, souls dragging through rubble to her lantern as she dragged it in a wide circle, digging her greaves into lopsided chunks of concrete and fighting not to lose her balance.

If Lung saw a haunting green light moving through the dust in wide circles, that might be a slight issue, so she did her best to be quick and to keep the soulfire inwards, making herself as dark as could be when using a sadistic glowstick to gather souls.

After feeling about two dozen or so souls squeeze through the lantern and nestle together within, she stopped, deciding that getting more would take too long, and turned back into Evelynn, going invisible and dashing upwards to the sky.

The first thing she saw was Lung, half-turned towards the rubble of the building and watching it like a hawk, just twenty paces off the edge of the rubble.

Ah, crap.

She had assumed he would have just gotten into the car immediately to go to the next target.

She floated closer.

Lung continued to watch the dust, before he marginally relaxed, turning towards the car, smoke and steam wafting off his shoulders.

"Chains…?" He rumbled to himself, wary confusion wafting off him as he walked to the car, which made sense since both Hookwolf and Stormtiger had chains involved in either their costumes or power.

Still, he heard her? Through the sound of a dozen tons of shifting rubble?

Enhanced senses were so damn annoying.

They got in the car, and Oni Lee began to drive.

She dashed ahead, already knowing their route, and a mile down, sat across the street from the defunct little house the Empire used to stockpile their guns, flickering back and forth to place her phone in her hand.

Luckily, the console operators took in the frantic reports of her men and made a summary for her in real time.

The assault on the Merchants had worked, but could have gone better. Most of her men were out, but one team of five got cornered and were now in a barricaded shootout with the cops, while another had lost a man to return fire from Merchants.

The Travellers weren't around, and Shadow Stalker couldn't help because they couldn't have her associated with Coil. The narrative for her was that she escaped Coil's capture and went back to her vigilante roots.

Lisa and Coil were handling it, thankfully, though the summary was vague enough to frustrate her on how. She wasn't sure what Spitfire could do against a police encirclement, and it was very dangerous to send her into that. She hoped they weren't about to lose the girl.

That barricaded squad bothered her.

If they were Mastered, they would rather surrender to the cops and the PRT than risk actually killing law enforcement.

If they weren't Mastered, they'd likely stall and be very trigger happy, because risking their life and employment with her was preferable to rotting away in a prison for twenty years for the dozens of charges they'd get for their involvement in this business.

Lee's car sped down the street, and she idly watched, moving her phone down out of sight of the vehicle.

Being invisible was so nice.

She glanced down to her phone for the second ongoing mission, though judging by the ever-increasing amounts of gunfire in the far distance, she could guess that it was well underway.

No progress reports other than one of the brothels they were clearing out having a few prostitute casualties due to some of the girls being given guns by the gangsters, and another location having a hostage situation that was stalling her men out.

Imp was sent to that one.

Not the best introduction to this life for Aisha, having to infiltrate a seedy brothel and see a heap of gangster corpses on her way into a hostage situation, but things just didn't always work out perfectly.

A hail of gunfire came from across the street, and she glanced up, flickering her phone back to her real form and bursting into invisible smoke to float closer to the squat, burning building, absorbing life force as Lung and Lee did their grim work, clones flashing around within the insides of the windows with flashes of light and sound accompanying them, Lung busy with melting down the first floor of the two-story house.

She wasn't going to risk getting more souls, not after he heard her, so all she could really do was stick close and wait for the inevitable.

It was a rather morbidly mundane thing to do, to just sit there and watch carnage happen, glancing at the uneven jagged skyline and waiting for a star to come shooting past any second…

Lung got in the car again, leaving police and firemen sirens to slowly trail in the wake of fire he left behind, and Lee began to drive once more.

She frowned, flitting up above the urban sprawl and squinting into the distance, swapping to the Rune of Precision.

She could see the flashes of white light in the far side of the city, right at the edge, but that was it.

Purity wasn't coming.

They didn't have Rune either, and that was about the extent of Movers the Empire had.

She frowned.

They either left their territory undefended completely to get the twins back, or left behind someone she wasn't expecting.

The first felt unlikely.

She also couldn't even think of interfering with what was going on with the convoy, or else Coil would go into a seizure or something. She wasn't even sure which timeline this one was, not unless Lisa texted her to do something.

She pursed her lips, and flew higher.

Her head jerked to the side, catching something… very glittery, rushing towards the burning buildings, and another, more indigo in color.

It took her a couple seconds to realize New Wave's Lazerdream and Shielder decided to butt their heads in, and with a frustrated humm, she swerved in wide circles above the car like an invisible vulture.

It took a second, but she caught sight of Glory Girl tailing the car from down low as well, seemingly disconnected from her siblings. Or was it cousins?

No sight of Empire capes though.

And why the hell were New Wave bothering with fires rather than the massive fights erupting across half the bay?

Maybe the kids were sent to something less dangerous while the adults brawled with the Empire? But since when did the PRT have such good communication with hero teams?

Was this Tagg's work?

And where the hell were the Empire capes? She refused to think Kaiser was stupid enough to not consider this possibility.

Something was off, but not in an alarming way, just in a way that didn't quite fit.

She stepped on the metaphorical gas, and zipped to the next safehouse, an abandoned-looking office building absolutely full of illegal contraband, wafting in through a window and sweeping the building.

Then she paused, materialised, and swiped razor-sharp claws through the top of one of the cocaine sacks, picking up a bit of the powder with a tip of a claw then running her tongue over it.

She scowled.

It was flour.

She floated down to a room where music was blaring, and wrinkled her nose.

Guns, cigarettes, pizza boxes, game console, weed, and six morons…

These guys didn't look like Empire gangsters, they looked like bums and junkies with nazi tattoos.

She tilted her head, trying to think like Kaiser.

It wasn't hard to figure out what he did.

The Empire had prepared for someone to try to fuck over their house while they were away, so they set up decoy resources and put up the least useful grunts as a sacrifice to make anyone who attacked think they were actually achieving something.

Maybe they were even stationed here because they were moles, or disloyal to the cause, or just general, low quality degenerates.

Kaiser seemed to think a lot like her. Three birds, one stone. Protect his assets, get rid of internal problems, and also gain a way to whip his supporters into a frenzy over their 'brothers' being killed by the japs, a nice morale boost centred on revenge, most likely.

She had a feeling she'd quite like working with the scumbag when she grabbed him, current character aside.

What this meant however, was that the Empire hadn't bothered with stationing someone for defence, most likely. And it also meant they wouldn't be sending anyone to soften up Lung for her.

Thankfully, Glory Girl might be able to pick up the slack. The girl was indestructible as far as she knew.

She turned back around and rushed to the car, floating outside it and reaching for Oni Lee's mind.

Glory Girl is tailing you. She's going to do the Empire's job. Act normal. Distract after retrieval and run.

Lung looked out the window, and Lee took the opportunity to nod in acknowledgement.

She turned back towards the same office building she'd left behind.

This time, she touched down to the side of the entrance, hiding behind an overgrown bush as she flickered her phone back into her hand, sending a simple message then flickering to put it away again.

Floating up a little, she watched the car roll to a stop over the course of a long minute, from all the way down the street, and followed closely as Lee and Lung walked out.

She glanced up and to the side.

Glory Girl had taken her phone out, far above, and was watching it with clear hesitance, gaze flicking from the duo to the screen and back.

She switched to the Rune of Inspiration, and raised a brow at what she got.

Well well, Victoria Dallon had a vicious streak, and once had a destiny of greatness.

She hoped her existence hadn't derailed that, truly, but right now, she just wanted the girl to go down and beat the fuck out of Lung. She'd do it herself, but first, that would eat up her summon core time, and second…

If Lung ramped up from danger, it raised some issues with Mastering him.

That meant his power had some measure of control over him, and she couldn't exactly afford to just ambush and take him, on the off-chance he ramped up while she was Mastering him.

Evelynn wasn't heat-proof. She could take some heat, but she'd seen Lung melting streets just by walking on them when he's fighting. The PRT had footage. If he ramped up enough, she might have to forcibly back up from the sheer heat and then have to fistfight him into descalating again.

Wasteful, noisy, sloppy, and honestly, a bit dangerous. She didn't outclass him by that much.

She also didn't know if the Nullification Orb would work on his internal heat. It wouldn't work on his physical growth because it nullified expressed abnormal phenomena, as well as magical ones, but it didn't touch internalised ones, and that was by Ryze's design.

So it would block his fire, but would it block his inner heat that made him a walking furnace?

She had no clue.

Oni Lee took out a gun, cocking it as they walked up to the entrance.

A pedestrian turned the corner, saw the scene, and froze, a moment before Glory Girl shoved her phone into a pocket under her skirt, hurriedly zipped it, and then dashed down.

Lung's ear seemed to catch the sound of something flying at him with the speed of a janky missile, and he whirled around, fire on his fists.

Lee did the same, leaving behind a clone as he teleported away, popping shots off at her with both of them.

Glory Girl actually took a strange corkscrew motion for some reason, then slammed into Lung feet first.

She heard the crunch of shattering ribs a moment after Lung seemingly teleported into the soil, an explosion of dust and pavement fragments shooting up as the entire street jumped from the impact, the office building swaying a little, visibly.

Alexandria Jr. didn't get to heroically pose on top of him, as Oni Lee made another two clones, and popped off a dozen shots at the center of the dust cloud, forcing her off.

…But why did that force her off? Surely bullets wouldn't do anything to her…?

Glory Girl dashed up, and flew in an odd, zig-zagging form, dodging bullets and dashing down to tear a stop sign off the street, using it as a weapon as she tried to catch up with the dozen forming and scattering clones, using the concrete end as a mace and ripping the stop sign off to throw like a frisbee at another clone, scattering him to ash.

She frowned.

Alexandria junior had decided to dodge bullets not once, nor twice, but thrice?

Maybe it was just a thing of principle, to dodge things even if she was pretty sure they wouldn't even scratch her, but as Lung rose from the crater, shouldering a heap of rubble off himself with a grunt, Glory Girl kept focusing on Oni Lee.

She was either trying to stop Lung from ramping up by ignoring him, or Oni Lee could hurt her.

Somehow.

She scowled.

If only the PRT had more info on the girl...

Just as she was about to call out to Lee's mind to start missing on purpose, just in case, Lung turned and swung a giant piece of broken street tile in Victoria's direction.

The girl didn't see it, and dodged straight into it, still trying her best to dodge Oni Lee's shots, and it shattered on her back harmlessly as another volley of gunfire mixed in with the sound of shattering tile.

A girlish scream sounded out as Victoria lost control of her flight and slammed into the street, shoulder first, and violently rolled in a move that would have likely messed up someone else.

All three of them paused, and then stayed still for a moment as Glory Girl laid on the street, silent.

Lung dug himself out, tilting his head.

She moved first, racing to the girl, and blinked down with incomprehension at the small but quickly growing bloodstain in the girl's uniform, just above her left hip, accompanied by a hard-to-spot bullet hole.

What?

She hesitated.

She could Heal her right now, but that would reveal her to Lung.

Oni Lee teleported, and a clone rushed forward, roughly kicking the girl onto her back, revealing skid burns along her shoulder, the dark, deep purple of underskin bleeding, likely from a torn muscle, along her collarbone, and closed, fluttering eyes, heavy with a dazed incomprehension.

Was she concussed?

Fucking how?

Did her power only have a ninety percent chance of blocking damage or something? Was it a barrier that could break if damaged enough? She had watched Oni Lee's bullets with the Precision Rune, there was no chance more than three or four of them even hit the girl, but she was laid out on the concrete by only one of them.

She briefly thought back to Lisa's musings on the new director and the incident at the bank, and scowled.

Again, stupid kids not realising that acting tougher than you really are will just make people kill you by complete fucking accident. Her reputation of invincibility seemed like it was ready to bite her in the ass.

"Leave her." Lung rumbled, surprisingly, and she turned to him, confused as Lee's clone turned to ash. "Come." He growled through the dust, and swung a hand full of fire to sweep most of it away, calmly walking to the office building.

Lee followed.

She glanced up, and saw a half-dozen people looking through the windows. Two opened, at the same time, and a rifle barrel clumsily got shoved through from each, pointed down, the gangster's heads barely visible.

She glanced down at the girl, scowling.

She had zero clue how the girl's power worked. Leaving her here in the open to turn to swiss cheese wasn't an option.

Heroes… incompetent fucking idiots. Couldn't even do her job for her.

She reached for Lee's mind.

Plan C. Now.

Oni Lee calmly walked up to the entrance right behind his boss as he swung the door open, slowly putting his gun as close as he could to the base of Lung's spine.

She materialized, still invisible, and grabbed the girl by the collar of her white costume, before switching to the Rune of Resolve, locking the Guardian effect, and dropping low to the ground, lunging forward and to the side right as a hail of gunfire burst down to both Glory Girl and the two figures right outside the building's door.

Even through the gunshots, she heard Lung's enraged roar, and jerked her head to the right just in time to see him collapse, one single, spasming arm spewing fire and sweeping towards Lee's legs.

She saw him teleport, and the clone left behind grabbed the special 'sample' she'd given him from the small of his back, a syringe with a clear, shimmering liquid, darting forward.

Newter's body fluids better work, because she was out of plans.

Lee dodged to the side again, a spew of fire missing him and lighting the dry shrubs to their side on fire, and grabbed a limp arm, slamming the syringe into Lung's arm as it swelled in size, his former boss's limbs jerking like faulty equipment.

Lee teleported again, and another clone with a syringe full of Newter's body fluids grabbed Lung's leg. Another stuck the pistol back against Lung's spine, and began mercilessly dumping the entire mag into his spine, while another grabbed a small grenade of Bakuda's design, and another clone aimed up at the windows, firing back at the gangsters to get them to back off a little.

Lee could handle the heat for a little bit.

She turned her head around to not slam into something or someone, and her eye flit over an abandoned business to the right, foggy dirty glass covered in 'selling' signs with a completely stripped, empty interior.

It would do.

She wrapped an arm around Glory Girl's waist, turned, and only minutely flinched in surprise as the first bullet finally hit them, Guardian's pale transparent barrier of green bursting to life around them with a sound of something vaguely like a vine and metal snapping taut at the same time.

She kept forgetting how fucking loud the Runes were.

She leapt clean over a car, slammed her foot down through the sidewalk, and lunged through the glass front, shoulder first, digging her other heel and her feelers into the floor and walls to stop her momentum, leading to a tide of snapping boards and scattering drywall dust to fill the already dusty interior.

She set down Glory Girl none too gently, switched to the Rune of Inspiration, hurriedly double cast Heal on the girl, and dashed back out.

There was probably something comedic about Lung's enraged flailing as he tried to snarl things at Oni Lee through a deformed jaw, but she was mostly concerned with the fact he was moving, even if it was drunken stumbles and wild flailing to get Oni Lee's clones to get off him, each armed with another duplicated syringe.

She loved these obscure power interactions. They were so convenient.

The problem was that Lung was now seven and a half feet tall with less than a minute of fighting, Glory Girl combined, and he wasn't slowing down, his pants tightening and rolling up to his ankles as he beefed up, tiny spikes erupting from every inch of his skin and slowly flattening and growing out into scales.

Iron scales weren't penetrable by syringes, even the thick custom ones they got. Once he had that down, he'd slowly burn through Newter's drug, most likely, and Lee would be in trouble.

She pursed her lips, and grew annoyed with the gunfire coming from up top.

Lee kept dedicating one clone to peppering shots up at them to drive them to duck down and lose sight of him, but one lucky bullet on the back of his head where the mask didn't cover, the real him, and he was dead.

She dashed up as smoke, cut a tight turn and flit past the gangsters, materialising behind them.

A quick switch to the Rune of Precision for both guidance, and to stack her permanent Rune effects, and with a single long, spinning swipe of her feeler that whistled violently through the air for a fraction of a second, she cut all six of them in half through the waist, blood splattering all over the wall and window as ropes of guts and viscera burst out to the side in a gory display, bits of drywall bursting over the wounds from where she nicked the wall.

One of the gangsters shooting through the window had enough time to let out a choked scream and flail his arm to grab the window sill before the darkness took him, and he slid off the window's ledge to limply fall onto his lower half like a limp puppet.

The feeling of her runes' permanent effects stacking all at once was quite satisfying, but she still felt vaguely displeased that she had to do this.

She flew back out the window, glancing quickly at the other windows flanking it, extending her soul senses as far as she could.

The rest of the Empire gangsters seemed to be far more focused on running away from the back door, or trying to smuggle their "precious" cargo away while the cape fight happening outside played out.

She glanced down, and cast Exhaust on Lung.

Eddying lines of yellow-brown energy coiled around his limbs like a cover, sapping him of strength and speed and energy as he burned through clone after clone, stumbling like a drunkard, shouldering cars aside to stumble out into the street.

A half dozen clones continued to pepper him with high caliber rounds, unloading entire magazines of ammo into his face and legs, barely missing the other three or four clones jumping close to jam more syringes into the man's soft bits and flesh as he tried to cover himself with a boxing stance.

She reached for Oni Lee's mind, easily finding the real version of him by his soul despite the flickering mess of a fight.

Keep going until he's ramping down and spent. Play it safe. Do not die.

He naturally didn't respond, instead finally digging around his back with his free hand for a secret pouch to take out Bakuda's surprise gift.

She couldn't help but be silently impressed with Oni Lee's performance. It was making her reevaluate his worth.

Oni Lee's reputation was that of a dangerous lackey, but in a gang with Lung, he just didn't compare in the scale, for most people. Even to her.

Yet, with some preparation and a bit of Newter's spit, he was matching Lung, one for one, peppering shots and teleporting around with almost mechanical precision, slowing Lung's ramp-up by jabbing him with what had to be a small bucket's worth of hyper-psychedelic drugs.

He might even win, because Lung's movements were not getting better by his body slowly shifting. The proportions of his changing limbs were throwing Lung off before the drugs went into play and turned his world into an acid trip, and it was only making Lee's job easier.

Another series of teleports, and Lung let out a low sound like a groaning mumble which was likely supposed to be a roar, swinging a fist wide, spewing fire in a spinning vortex out of his knuckles, popping three clones, then stumbled backwards, sending a blast of fire in the complete opposite direction at seemingly nothing.

Lee saw an opening, and teleported in, then out, the clone left behind pressing Bakuda's device against the middle of Lung's back before slamming the handle of its gun into the big red button.

Another fun fact… the more muscle someone had, the more effective a taser was on them. More things to electrify and force into contraction.

The first sound Lung made could best be described as a screaming gargle as he locked up and dropped on his face, Bakuda's bomb drilling into his back and hooking in, cooling fluid screaming as it wafted through the mechanisms and instantaneously evaporated, an ear-grating electrical buzz drowning out even the sound of gunshots as it kept unloading its charge.

She could even see a couple tiny arcs of lightning come out of the ejection coils buried in Lung's back, if she looked at it with the Rune of Precision.

She couldn't help but feel a little… disappointed, almost. It was a reminder that he was mortal and more than beatable.

Still, he was her best shot at stopping an Endbringer in their tracks, so she was hardly going to lower his priority level.

Lee was going to win, quite handily. Not without a bunch of tricks, but he would.

She'd hoped not to have to resort to plan C, because this would reveal something very odd and fishy going on in the ABB to any outsider who saw this, but she didn't have other options. Not ones that wouldn't slow her down.

She'd need a lot of force multipliers to match Cauldron. Slowing down… she could do it, but at what cost in the long run?

She floated up and to the side, and spared a quick glance at the skies and streets, making sure nobody was about to interrupt Lee, and saw nothing aside from one civilian in the corner of the street, recording with their phone, crouched and looking ready to bolt the moment a cape glanced in their direction.

She debated going down to them to destroy the phone, but chewed the thought over as she watched Oni Lee and his clones focus fire on random spots of Lung's silver-scaled body to open holes before each jamming a syringe into the wounds, with increasing speed and efficiency, Lungs locked body slowly starting to spasm and warp the small machine on his back from sheer heat and his growth.

Oni Lee's betrayal would reach the PRT regardless of what she did. She had no such delusions to the contrary. Too many people involved, too many Thinkers, and too much physical evidence of the fight. Which was why she hadn't wanted Lee to do this.

But the cat was out of the bag, and a twist like this could draw more eyes and attention to the Bay.

This place already had a slight cult following on PHO for how batshit it was compared to the vast, vast majority of America, so it wouldn't be too bad of a way to grow that audience, to get more people to pay attention to the city.

A full fight with a gang leader getting his ass kicked would draw in a lot of attention, even if it would hurt his reputation to the average person who didn't know what he was capable of.

She disliked how her thoughts started to sound like a marketing executive's, but such were the issues with trying to grow one's power base. Thoughts tended to start sounding endlessly cynical.

Lung's struggles, finally, were starting to simplify, just as his shoulder blades began to jut out into bony spikes and his pants were struggling to contain a spazzing, stubby tail.

No enraged, inaudible snarls, no spews of fire, just a stiff body spasming every other second with huffing gurgles.

Oni Lee continued to physically dash in and teleport out, leaving a clone behind each time to jam another syringe into Lung, not relenting, not slowing, and not getting overconfident, an efficient machine.

She was starting to really appreciate him.

She switched to the Rune of Inspiration again, and reached for another cast of Exhaust, further tiring Lung out.

Another fifteen seconds of that pattern passed, Lung's body melting into the boiling tarmac and Oni Lee's form starting to waft steam and smoke along the edges of his clothes as he slowly cooked from the outside in, taking more cautious teleports and keeping a slight bit more distance than necessary.

Then, finally, Lung's half-formed wings seemed to shudder, and begin retracting into his back, with the same kind of speed they came out with.

She involuntarily leaned forward, her field of view widening with both surprise and delight as she conformed her smoke into a tight ball.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

She'd thought of the possibility, but deep down, she hadn't expected Lee to actually win. It had seemed like a faint hope at best.

Despite his stoic nature, she could see a slight stumble in his steps, his shoulders rising and falling deeply with every gasping breath, his grip on his pistol loose.

He was exhausted, and likely having trouble breathing in the midst of fumes and eye-cooking heat.

He teleported another couple times, mostly to the side, sending his clones forward to stab more drugs into Lung's system.

According to Newter, the most he'd dared give someone was a teaspoon, and that kept the person out of commission for an entire day.

Lung had to have a litre, assuming he hadn't boiled or burnt most of it inside his bloodstream from the sheer heat.

Bakuda's battery suddenly went silent, the metal cable spewing sparks like a sparkler, and both she and Lee tensed, readying themselves.

Lung didn't move an inch, limp entirely, half-buried face-first into the melted asphalt.

Send a clone to turn him over on his back.

Lee teleported three times in quick succession, and sent them forth, palming his pistol grip, stiff and unmoving like a statue in the back.

He reminded her of Azir for a moment, sending his constructs forward as he stood and watched imperiously…

She shook her head, and flew closer.

The clones all had to work together on Lung's right arm, digging their feet in and pushing him onto his back, and by the end of the movement, only one was left, which promptly scattered into ash again.

Lung's eyes were closed, but he was clearly under the effect of Newter's drug. His eyes were moving erratically under his eyelids, and he was mouthing something she could almost make out, something in… chinese?

It didn't matter.

Secure the area for fifteen minutes by whatever means you can come up with. Call a few men if you need them, she spoke into Lee's mind, and he nodded, promptly teleporting away, the clone left behind tapping one of his grenades as it continued roughly panting.

Distracting people by causing indiscriminate disaster wasn't her motto, but she didn't have a better idea than distraction at the moment.

He had to run straight at Lung dozens of times before teleporting out to leave a clone behind, so combined with the air quality in the half-ruined street, the wrecked cars leaking oil, and the dust, it was obvious he'd need a bit of rest. Fighting anyone that approached would be inneficient.

She turned to find him before he teleported away again, and reached for his mind.

Do not get captured or killed. You're a high priority. Great job.

With that, she dashed into the doorway of the office building.

There, in a dusty, dilapidated hallway safe from prying eyes, she switched into Syndra, the Dark Sovereign, and grabbed Lung by the arms with purple-black magic, effortlessly dragging him into the building with a twist of her fingers, squeezing his shrinking shoulders through the thin doorway.

Another flick of her fingers to break open the side door that led to the basement, and she flew down into the darkness, dragging Lung behind her like an oversized, human-shaped lava lamp.

She tossed him against a clear corner, switched to Evelynn, and finally, grabbed him by what little hair remained on him to pull his head up, using her thumbs to pull his eyelids up, revealing glazed, reptilian pupils, flitting about like crazy.

Her eyes flashed gold into molten, fiery orange.

She still felt dizzy, so she took some amount of care in how she flew up from the depression of broken floorboards and drywall dust that had settled over her.

Then she twisted to grab her costume, because usually being injured and not feeling it was not a good thing and her white costume was fucking covered in blood which she could guess was her own.

She hooked a finger into the bullet hole with a slightly shaking finger, and with a grimace on her face, prepared for pain, she pulled the hole wider.

She felt nothing but a bit of tenderness.

She glanced down, twisting forward, and blinked.

Then she rubbed her thumb over where the exit wound of the bullet should have been, a bit over her hipbone, wiping blood away as best as she could.

There… was no wound?

"Shit." She hissed, then looked around and outside whatever random hole in the wall place she'd been tossed into, racking her brain for what the hell happened.

Something broke her barrier, she got shot by Oni Lee. She fell down and messed up her head. Concussion or worse, she didn't know.

Then, gunshots, a faint green color, and somebody grabbing her. Then a strange feeling like her body was getting yanked back together, forcing that haze out of her mind and leaving behind exhaustion.

That's all she remembered.

How the hell did she get healed? Was Amy here?

Wait, shit!

She dashed outside like a rocket, glancing around, seeing nothing but overturned and shredded cars, a steaming stretch of asphalt, the crater she made in front of the building Lung was going to torch.

It was quiet beyond that.

"Amy?" She called out, cautiously, and heard nothing but the distant thrums of cars and a few small bursts of gunfire in the distance. And a large piece of shrubbery crackling with flame in front of the building, mixing in with the faint roar of flaming cars and burning oil.

There was no way Amy healed her. Not here.

Othala?

No, stupid. No chance.

She frowned, examining the evidence of a fight left behind.

A small trail of charred tar seemed to go towards the building for a couple feet, right from the gigantic depression left in the smoking street. She hesitated for only a moment, remembering the burst of agony from her injury, then squared her shoulders and flew towards the entrance.

A gunshot rang out behind her, and she whirled around, flying to the side and curling her legs in, eyes jerking to the single figure in her life of sight.

Oni Lee stood in the middle of the street behind her, a mere twenty feet away, his pistol pointed to the sky. He didn't lower it as she looked at him, steaming in the open air and seemingly completely calm.

Before she could question what the fuck was going on, a loud bang sounded out from the building behind her, and she whirled around, only for another gunshot to sound out and a bullet to tap against her barrier.

This time, she didn't hesitate, flying to the side then charging at Oni Lee with all her strength and speed, twisting to face him in the middle of her arc.

Her fist flew through his head as she shouted, shoving her knee through his chest, scattering…

Ash.

He burst into fine, ashy powder, and she recoiled, blowing air out of her mouth to clear it and sneezing, flying back a couple feet then flying up, turning to glare around to find him.

She couldn't find anything. Not a single soul, besides a few people with no survival instincts looking at her from their windows in the opposite apartment buildings, practically gawking.

Fucking Brocktonites.

"Come out, Oni Lee!" She called, gritting her teeth and glaring at every inch even vaguely coloured black and red.

Nothing replied to her but the faint crackle of flame and the wails of chaos on the other side of the Bay.

She scowled, and flew low, looking through one of the building's windows.

Something fell over in the building, she heard it before Lee shot her again. So there had to be people in there.

Boxes, boxes…

She caught a peek of blood red along a window frame that sat on a wall peppered with bullet holes that had chipped away at the concrete, and she flew down through the window with as much speed as she dared, to see if she could save someone and at least pretend she achieved something here.

As she flew through, she caught sight of something round next to her foot along the blood painting the window frames,, and whirled around.

Her eyes widened, her joints locking up like a frozen doll as she stared at the pile of bisected men piled beneath the windows, their entrails spread out on the floor like worms coming out of cleanly cut torsos.

She almost moved forward before realising that they were dead. Very, very indisputably dead. Nobody survived that.

The smell burned itself into her nose. Decay, discard, and death.

Her eyes glued themselves to the pool of blood, the chips of broken spine and rib bones mixing with the drywall dust coagulating atop entrails.

Her flight stuttered, and she hurriedly righted herself just in time to turn around and drop to the floor to vomit on her hands and knees, the sight still swimming around her eyes like a virus she couldn't get rid of.

Some part of her idly noted that she knew how mental trauma felt, and this was quite similar.

Instead of doing something that made sense, like calling the PRT, she simply coughed out her stomach's contents and scrambled for her phone to call Dean, feeling her eyes swell inside their sockets and burn as her breaths shortened.

She had to try six times to actually call him, the image of the people behind her covering the screen and infecting her eyes like an overlay, but eventually, on the verge of tears, she managed it.

Notes:

Last bit wasn't intended to be so morbid, but as I was writing the scene I realized most people seem to write victoria like she's unshakeable because she uses excessive force on people, and shes pretty much only 17 at the time of the actual story, so I thought to add that bit in to both humanize her and to show how something mundane and mildly displeasing to Taylor is rather traumatising to even WITNESS for a normal person.

Next chappie should be a little bit slower, then we step on the gas for real

Chapter 40

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

She didn't like Los Angeles.

It was too loud, too bright, and too shitty for how beautiful it looked.

But most of all, it was too damn packed with people. It was hard as hell to find a place to park their cars in a normal city without someone unwanted snooping around them, but in a place like LA?

She had to bribe private junkyards just to park somewhere relatively safe.

She also didn't like doing a job for free, but like it or not, she owed Summoner.

The location was odd, but Gregor had done his research, contacting some of their old clientele that still hung around LA, and this was a neutral ground according to the grapevine.

So with yet another sigh, she carefully maneuvered the car to the side within the tight alley, turning to the right to point the nose at the gigantic garage door that broke up the line of trashcans on either side, the plates painted a dull, dark green.

She didn't have to wait long for a small, almost unnoticeable door to open to the side, a man in a hood and facemask calmly but briskly turning and walking to her, ducking down to window height.

"Hey. New faces around here." He stated more than asked, and looked beside her to Newter, who pulled his hood back a little to give the guy a lazy salute. Shrewd eyes examined them both. "Names?" He asked, digging around his pocket for a little flip book.

"Faultline and Newter." She provided, and the guy furrowed a brow in confusion as he began to write them down.

"Newter with a W. Not neuter. New-ter." She clarified, and the man made a small 'oh' sound as he crossed the name out and wrote it again.

"Right. Parking here is forbidden, so when you leave the facilities for more than two hours, you take your vehicle with you or we scrap it for parts. You're not getting anything back in that case. No fights, business talk only in the booths. No Thinker heroes allowed in the bar, period. Honorless shits, those." He grumbled, and jerked his head to the door. "Enjoy yourselves. Or don't."

She nodded, and he walked back to the little door tucked into the alley's side.

The garage door began to rattle open with surprising speed, and she drove the car into the underground garage, her brows rising at the sheer size as she drove between support beams and parked cars without a licence plate in sight.

It had enough height and width to fit trucks in here. A full floor of parking, clean, well-lit with warm light…

She might like this place more than expected.

She found an open spot, and parked, before following the spray-painted signs of a beer bottle with an arrow next to them to find the door to the actual bar.

The first door was cold, soulless sheet metal, but the second one down the hall was nicely varnished dark wood with a little window. She was pleasantly surprised by the atmosphere as she opened the door.

It was that perfect mixture between noisy enough to feel alive but not loud enough to be annoying, classy music playing in the back. Velvet couches and epoxy-wood mixed tables, wooden floorboards, smooth white walls, while the bar front was long, well lit, and the wood was gleaming as if freshly lacquered.

Despite everyone in here clearly being villains, the most she and Newter got were a quick glance from the two dozen or so inhabitants of the large bar before everyone went back to chatting and drinking.

"Holy shit, I wanna live here." Newter whistled, and she resisted the urge to flick his forehead for being unprofessional.

"Calm down. We're not even sure they're here." She calmly noted, and he nodded, eyeing the wall of drinks behind the bartender.

Renata had given very specific instructions on where to go and how to notify the person who had the package that they were ready to get it, but she was still very dubious about the end result.

How would sending a bizarre, cryptic letter addressed to the local PRT office notify anyone of anything? It would get tossed in the trash after being tested front and back for contaminants. Unless the letter checkers were Summoner's insiders…? She was never one for convoluted plots.

She huffed, and walked past the tables to a large hallway tucked in the back, a wall of doors to her right with numbers and letters and little lights beside the door handles to show which ones were occupied.

She found the booth number, and finding the light green, rapped her knuckles on the door.

"Come in." A woman's voice came from inside, and so they did.

Two plush couches, a coffee table in between.

And to the left, their package and its delivery woman.

She wore completely casual clothes with curly hair in a ponytail, the only thing giving her away as a cape being the low-tech voice changer mask clamped onto her face and the hood. The gloves were a bit strange too for this weather.

"Stop." The woman briskly said, and they paused, the door half-shut, Newter's hand still on the knob. "You're not who I'm expecting."

She nodded.

"They sent us instead. Gave us a phrase to say. Said you'd understand."

The woman leaned her head forward with a questioning hum, motioning to Newter with their hand.

Newter closed the door, and she calmly moved forward to take a seat opposite the woman.

"In the fields of Elysium, a metal titan and a statue fight for three hearts on their first meeting." She quoted. "That's the phrase we were given to prove they sent us. The package?" She urged, and the woman just stared at her, inordinately still.

Then she nodded, lifting a giant briefcase and putting it on the table.

"This. Do not try to open it. She'll know." The woman warned, and Melanie nodded, mildly miffed about the constant warnings, as if she needed them. She was a professional damn it. She didn't snoop.

Even Renata had stressed enough about the importance of this package and contingencies to make her ears bleed.

She couldn't tell if these people were all paranoid or just didn't have much faith in mercenaries.

"Anything else before we go?"

The woman shook her head.

Newter took the bag, just in case, and nodded.

Well, she just sat down for nothing…

She rose, and followed Newter outside, calmly walking back to their vehicle.

Just outside, Train's van was waiting with the rest of the team, just in case, but she doubted they'd need it.

Newter held it in his lap until they got to the van, where Trainwreck shoved the thing into a padded metal box, then they split up again to continue on their way.

The battery would be simpler to get, thankfully, if a lot more labour intensive.

Well, it would be easier this time around with Trainwreck present to haul the thing around. Last time had her enduring hours of Newter whining about his back.

Aisha wasn't really 'hard', as some of the shitty kids at Winslow might put it.

Yeah sure she could fight and scrap and she didn't mind breaking a bone here and there if she really hated a bitch, and her life was pretty shit so far, but she'd never seen anything…

Well, anything like that.

The first thing she saw on her way in was brains splattered all over a stair step, a dead gangster with a rifle in his lap leaning against them, followed by a tense minute of crouch-walking down a corridor absolutely destroyed by gunfire, hoping nobody randomly shot at her back by accident.

Then, women and girls in… varying states of nakedness, all with that look in their eyes and that sway in their movements that she'd learned from her mother meant high as fuck or in withdrawal.

Walking into a brothel wasn't gonna be fun, she knew that, but she expected gross naked fuckers and cum stains, not this shit.

Another thing that movies got very, very wrong, was how difficult it was to fucking knock someone out.

The first guy took one shot with a baseball bat she found lying around and was out cold.

The other guy had a skull made of steel or some shit, because she just had to keep.

Fucking.

Swinging.

And then he had curled up, scrambled back over a couch, waved the gun around, and started shooting around the room at random, knowing that somebody was attacking him and probably thinking they were invisible or some shit.

It was only then that she broke his wrist and got the gun out of his hand, and he still kept shouting random crap and looking for another one.

The rest was… messy.

She didn't exactly know what else to do but keep beating him the fuck up with the bat, and by the time he stopped moving, the bat was covered in fucking blood, the girls in the back were still screaming and crying and sobbing and Summoner's guys were outside yelling orders like they were cops, flashlights and lasers poking through the dust and coke powder floating in the air from where a bullet exploded a sack of it.

In the chaos, panting and shaking she turned around and… and a girl was dead.

Just. There on the carpet. Gone. There was a girl trying to stem the bleeding from the hole in her chest with her hand, but her eyes were empty and glassy already, hidden beneath her matted bangs.

She got a girl killed because she was fucking stupid.

She should have just grabbed the first guy's gun and shot their brains out. But she just… her mind just wasn't ready for that shit, she hadn't been ready to kill. She felt that instinctive, mild revulsion just from thinking about knocking someone out with a bat, killing someone was several orders of magnitude more violence than she had even considered or thought herself capable of.

But now, a girl was dead. Because she thought this shit was like a movie and she could just smack someone on the head with a bat and be done with it.

Things weren't that clean and simple in real life. Letting a fucker like that live just… wasn't worth the risk that he'd hurt people who actually mattered.

All of a sudden, she could really empathise with the kind of shitty situations cops would get put into sometimes, whether it was on the news or the internet. She could understand why they shot so fast now in those videos, when it just looked like needless murder to her before.

The alternative to not shooting just wasn't worth it.

She just wished that learning that lesson hadn't cost a girl her life.

For a long while she just sat on a crate opposite the corridor's entrance, in the same room, and watched Summoner's guys work through the brothel, gathering the girls and speaking to them in languages she couldn't even guess at, struggling not to cry or grab a piece of glass to score lines into her arms as a self-punishment for being so fucking retarded.

She got an innocent girl killed.

Chick didn't look much older than Emily. Brown hair, Indonesian features. Brown eyes, slight tilt in her nose, probably broken before. She doubted she'd be able to forget her face, and wasn't sure she wanted to.

She watched a man in black briefly examine the guy she'd beaten, and mutter about how his skull was broken and he was going to die anyway, before pulling out a silenced pistol and executing him on the floor where he laid.

Covering her face with her hands, she took increasingly uneven breaths as the guilt kept mounting.

She should have killed that guy herself. She felt relief for not having to do it, guilt about not doing it, and guilt about feeling relief for not having to do it.

Emotions were so fucking confusing.

By the time she decided that she had to get up and move on, just like every other time life grabbed her by the arms and snapped her bones for its own amusement, the trucks carrying the girls and Summoner's soldiers were rumbling down the far side of the street.

She watched them go, took a deep breath, sighed it out, and fixed the cheap dollar store mask she wore back onto her head.

She hadn't thought of him for a hot minute, but as she turned her power off and picked up her phone to report success to Insight, she couldn't help but wish Brian was still alive. He'd have some fumbling words of dollar store wisdom or some stupid pseudo-positive shit to say.

He'd probably try to awkwardly hug her, at least.

"Fucking asshole…" She whispered, her voice warbling with gross emotions she'd rather keep away. "Could have just gone to the Wards." She croaked out, fully aware of how hypocritical it was for her to say that now when working for a shadowy syndicate, then yanked her mask up to wipe at her eyes before yanking it down as she pressed the call button, sniffling.

She wondered if Spits would give her a hug.

Maybe she could bother Rune for one.

She let out a snort of bleak laughter at the mental image.

Eh, fuck it, she'd give it a try. Would be fun to watch the reaction, at least.

Thirty minutes and a car ride later, she was in the empty safehouse with only Rune for company, the former nazi pacing and glued to the TV that broadcasted endless emergency reports on the chaos in the Bay, and the little joke she'd made to herself kept nagging at her. She was curious, she was bored, and it might be funny.

That and she still felt like shit. Some part of her was genuinely happy that she helped rescue human trafficking victims, of course. That thought felt nice and fuzzy. She almost felt like a hero for a bit.

But the weight of failure and two lives was a lot heavier for the moment.

So, half-joking and half-serious, she got up, stretched, and held her arms open, a foot or two away from Rune's pacing area.

"Oi. Gimme a hug."

Rune paused, and turned to give her this scrunched up 'the fuck?' kinda look.

It was endlessly amusing.

"I think I killed a guy today." She blurted out, and immediately regretted how heavy her voice sounded. She grinned, and inwardly curled into an embarrassed ball of cringe because she was sure it looked fake as shit. "And a girl. Accidentally. Shit day." She explained, then tensed up because she could feel her fingers shaking and yeah just no.

And then she realized she looked really fucking tense which also looked stupid.

Man, it was just not her day today.

Rune, surprisingly, didn't say anything, just staring at her with increasing scrutiny like she was unsure if she was joking or not.

"He uh. Gangster. Was holding some chicks hostage. I didn't really-" her breath hitched, and then resisted the urge to growl in frustration at herself, instead clearing her throat. "- didn't really knock him out right. Dude started flailing and shooting at random. Broke his s-skull, trying to knock him out. He killed a girl while shooting around for me."

Rune's hard stare slackened as the girl blinked at her, breathing out a soft 'oh' noise.

"I'll let you know what I know about today's shitstorm in return? You're lookin a mite worried there." She offered, half-jokingly, starting to feel a little awkward holding her arms out like this.

Rune turned and held her hands open by her side like she was herding a cat into a corner, then moved them around uncertainly as she hesitantly stepped forward.

"Uh, I… how do I…" Rune started, full of nervous reluctance, then moved her arms to gesture at her.

Being the queen expert on not giving a fuck about people's personal space, she assumed that meant Rune had actually agreed, surprisingly, so she moved up, and hugged Rune around the waist, laying her head on her shoulder.

This was… surprisingly nice, actually.

"Uh… t-there, there?" Rune mumbled, awkwardly patting her on the back, and she snorted with laughter against her shoulder.

"Man, you suck at this."

Rune scoffed, very gingerly putting a hand on her back.

"I was in a nazi gang a week ago, fuck off. This is fucking weird." Rune hissed. "And I'm not used to hugging skinny midgets." She finished.

"Talking a whole lotta shit for someone in ass pinching distance." She hummed in teasing warning, and burst into hysterical cackles as Rune made a loud gagging sound, backing up then putting a hand on her face to push her away.

"Well, glad you feel better." Rune growled, and turned to keep pacing.

Between hysterical giggles, she managed to wipe her eyes without taking off the domino mask.

"Don't you?"

Rune paused, and her expression shifted into surprise for a moment before she scoffed in dismissal and kept pacing.

Taylor formed inside Lisa's surveillance van, ignoring the short jerk its inhabitants gave before realising it was her, taking the opportunity to curl up in the corner against the insulation padding and clamp her ears and eyes shut.

Then she dropped Evelynn, and immediately felt the headache worsen with a wince.

But it was just that. A frustrating headache.

By comparison to the days following the Alexandria incident, she barely felt this.

A minute later, someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she opened her eyes up into Lisa's domino mask, wires and screens shifting in the background as the team managers kept coordinating people in the background.

A finger tugged the hand clamped over her right ear, and she reluctantly pulled it away.

"Hey. How'd it go? You good?" Lisa whispered, and she made an affirmative grunt.

"The ABB is ours. Entirely. I've got a bad headache, but it's manageable. How are our reinforcements to the Empire going?" She whispered back, and Lisa sat down next to her, using her hand to gather her hair and brush it back.

Her eyes fluttered shut.

She missed affection, reluctant as she was to admit it, and Lisa had basically been sleeping in her office for a couple hours a day so far.

This was… really nice. She'd missed it.

"Not great. This wasn't the usual kinda fight. The PRT isn't playing around anymore. The gangs kept escalating, and the new Director thinks it's only appropriate the PRT responds in kind. We lost two guys in the fight 'cause of it. Another one's injured. We got the Valkyrie twins back with the Empire though, the distraction helped. Challenger cut off one of their legs. And… well, to rip off the bandaid, there's a new Tinker around. He fucked with everyone's comms for a bit, ours included. Armsmaster and Dragon seem to have a huge interest in him, so we're going to be getting a visit from her soon."

She took a deep breath, and let it out in a bitter, disbelieving chuckle.

"Of course we will. Why wouldn't we…"

Dragon was coming to the Bay to look for a rogue Tinker. He either had some really good shit, or something about him concerned the PRT.

"I don't suppose we can find this Tinker first?" She asked, and Lisa sighed.

"He either makes programs or is some kind of technopath. We don't have anyone who can fuck around enough with computers to get a connection to the guy. Dragon can't do it."

So they had no chance, in comparison.

"He fucked everyone's comm lines for a solid ten minutes, and we're pretty sure he hacked into some of our body cams too. A coding based Tinker is extremely rare. So… we're probably not getting him unless he comes to us."

"Open up a line of communication to him if possible. Leave a high security camera in a room, pointing at a message on the wall, bait him into hacking it. Or leave messages over random security cameras all over the bay, something like that. He's gotta be looking at us from somewhere."

Lisa paused.

"Shit, good idea. I'll pass it by the techies. So… now what?"

She took another deep breath.

A good question. Now what.

"Now, we take stock of the girls we saved. A good chunk of them will be deported if we gave them to the FBI, so we're going to give those girls a choice. The problem is making sure that choice is ethical. So I need your opinion here."

Lisa wiggled closer, and put her head on her shoulder.

"Sure thing. What's the idea?"

"My idea was to give the girls the choice to work for us in whatever they feel comfortable doing. We're going to need more manpower in every aspect. We're going to need more janitors, we're going to need more movers, we're going to need employees in front businesses, et cetera. If not, we just give them to the FBI in Boston and New York, and they figure out what to do with the girls."

Lisa hummed.

"We could just give the girls fake papers and let them go out into the world without having them work for us. I uh… I saw the operation through cameras, you know? Their living situations were stomach-churning, but our guys don't exactly scream "rescue has come", even when we're pretending to be SWAT teams. I'm not sure they'll want to be involved with us or anything to do with their old life."

She made a short negative humm.

"Paper forgery is expensive. Especially with current standards. And if they get caught with fake papers it's even worse for them, they won't get deported, they'll get thrown in jail. Or deported then thrown in jail. We already spent enough resources in helping them, I'm not going to spend a couple million dollars to give them fake papers that might fuck them over."

Lisa shifted.

"Oh. Yeah, fair. Your suggestion is good, honestly. What else?"

She shifted.

For a minute or two, she simply thought, the truck calmly driving down the roads like nothing was amiss.

Then her head suddenly shot up, an idea that was so obvious in hindsight popping up.

"...Get me to Coil. He and I are going to visit his old pal Accord. And you're going to handle the ABB getting devoured by our faction while we do that. I've told Lung who to listen to."

Lisa sighed in complete exasperation.

"You're putting way too much faith into my inexperienced ass…. And what do you mean devoured?"

She cracked her neck, another plan unfolding.

"I mean just that. Our men are from armies all over the world. Some of them were sargeants, some were drill instructors. Use them. I don't want gangsters, L-" she paused, and glanced at the console operators in the corner. "-Insight. I want soldiers. Go to ground, prepare. Our men can train them. If they won't bend, break them. I'd rather have a corpse than a man who won't listen. Teach them the new chain of command, then our ideology. 'Renata' first, you second, Coil third, Lung fourth. Ideology… you should explain that. Get Shadow Stalker to expand on it." She mumbled, then worked her jaw.

"Burn the drugs or ship them to Africa with Coil's gun trafficking network. Backstab the human trafficking network that sends Lung 'cattle', rat them out to the authorities. Do it in a way that makes it clear that 'Nexus' is giving this information out on behalf of 'Summoner'. We need to start making a name for ourselves. Tell the girls who saved them as well, obviously, word will get around with the amount of media companies we have ready to report on this. Then..." She paused, organizing her thoughts. "I'll be back from Boston in a day or so, then I'll take over the Empire in a day. They've got thirteen capes… Thirteen people in one day is a lot, but I've done ten in a day before and I could still stand. I'm also getting stronger, so it should be manageable now if I use some restraint."

Lisa nodded, pursing her lips.

"What are you going to talk with Accord about?"

"I'm going to test out if I can get a favour from him for grabbing Spree. Then… I think I'm going to have to violate my rules a bit, and Master some people of influence. Good or bad. I'm going to need them. Something's coming and we're gonna need to brace for it. Coil's got lists. Three birds." She finished, leaving the saying unfinished.

Lisa frowned.

"That's… smart. As usual. But why do you want Spree in the first place? He's a Teeth cell leader, you're gonna get the Travellers on Butcher's shitlist. And then us, if you send him anywhere in public."

She made a dismissive 'eh'.

She wasn't a cape. Butcher couldn't do anything to her.

"I just want him because there's a slight chance I could use him to exponentially increase my strength through my power's baseline abilities. A small part of it grows stronger when I kill something it considers alive. If it considers Spree's clones as alive when I kill them..." She trailed off, and Lisa blinked.

"Oh. Oh shit. Yeah, that'd be worth it…" Lisa trailed off, and a comfortable silence followed for a few moments before another sigh broke it. "I think you're putting way too much faith in me to work the ABB into shape."

She jabbed her side with her elbow, softly.

"You've been doing pretty good so far."

Lisa smiled, a small, pleased, uncertain thing, curling into her side.

"Thanks. Though most of it is Coil, I have to admit. Bastard knows how to micromanage people…"

"Shush. He's like three times your age, that's normal. You're still a pup."

Lisa snorted.

"A pup?"

"Yep. Little squirmy larvae." She said with utmost seriousness, and Lisa burst into snickers. "Just gotta wait to get your wings. Which I have some ideas about as well, if you're willing to push yourself."

"Hm?"

"When you explained to me why Tagg probably got here and Piggot got dropped, you talked a lot about the bank incident. You were kind of rambling."

"I don't ramble-"

"And then you mentioned that you used your power to dodge Genesis' tail. Remember that? You said you focused absolutely on the giant cobra tail thing lunging at your head and your power told you the tail's trajectory so you could adjust yourself out of harm's way."

Lisa's head rose from her shoulder.

"Oh. Wait…" Lisa mumbled, her expression scrunching up with confusion. "Wait, yeah. I didn't even… think about that, really. My power's never been that fast before. It's a slow bitch, usually."

She nodded absent-mindedly.

"And you also know that powers adapt to their user, sometimes. Or maybe the user just learns how to use their power in unexpected ways, or the power sort of unfolds over time. I think if we can get you in a bunch of brutal spars and you push the absolute hell out of your power, we might be able to turn you into a combat Thinker."

Lisa turned to her, wide eyed with excitement.

"Not that I want you anywhere on the frontline, of course, I'd rather chop my legs off, but the more dangerous you are, the safer you are. A strength and speed brute package with a broken Thinker power on top, and then you combine them. With a lot of effort and training…" She trailed off suggestively.

Lisa smiled, eyes practically shining.

"You are the greatest fucking thing to walk this earth." Lisa whispered, putting her hands in her hair and letting out a small laugh of incredulous joy. "If you can make me able to kick Lung's shit in, I will literally worship every fucking step you take. I'll try by myself to force my power in that direction, but when you have time, just come nudge me along and I'll- I'll fucking… I dunno. Just, holy shit. How did I not notice that when it happened?" Lisa griped, then sagged back. "We saved a bunch of people, did all this stuff, and now I'm hearing I could practically turn myself into an utter threat with some better training. Today's been fucking great, some… unlucky casualties aside."

She smiled softly, humming in agreement.

"And you say you don't ramble." She mused, and let her shoulders shake with silent laughter as Lisa turned to her and pretended to put her in a chokehold, grunting stuff about mean old sisters as she half-heartedly resisted her.

The added pain to her headache was worth that rare moment of levity.

"... Man, you really know how to raise my mood just to tackle it down to the floor again, don't you?" Lisa murmured, glancing around the warehouse, at the dozens and dozens of wide-eyed women and teen girls being checked over by their medics.

It was a sea of chairs, tiny beds, boxes, trays and IV stands.

And a lot of tense silence, because the building could only have so much insulation and drawing attention by having a seemingly abandoned warehouse full of talking and crying would probably get them all in trouble.

It led to some particularly tense corners where her men were torn between enforcing silence and not being too firm or aggressive with the girls, something that, obviously, for men who killed for a living, they seemed to be very awkward about.

"Why are we here though…?" Lisa asked, following behind her as they briefly examined each girl, Taylor disguised as Renata through Evelynn.

Being able to taste the absolute swirl of emotions drowning the air around her was unpleasant, but it actually fed her a little bit as a demon, and it helped give her a realistic outlook on what to expect.

"Perspective. Being in our ivory command towers too much will eventually turn us into things like Coil. That thing you said earlier bothered me. 'Unfortunate casualties'." She quoted, and saw Lisa cringe out of the corner of her eye.

"Okay, bad way to put it, but, they were just that."

She nodded. "Of course they were. I'm just trying to make sure that what the word 'casualty' really means sinks in. See the girls, see our men, realize what 'casualty' really means and let it sink it. I'm gonna need commanders the bigger we get, and some lessons have to be given early. So lesson one of many, I guess; when you're in command, you have to be present to get a real perspective, see what it's really like on the ground floor. To understand. Or else you start thinking in numbers and goals and before you know it, you're effective, undoubtedly… but so out of touch that you will eventually become heartless or even cruel, and make mistakes. Big ones. This problem lessens with scale, because you can reach a point where it simply isn't possible to be on the ground floor, but it's a good thing to keep trying."

Lisa was silent as they walked through.

The main reason she was saying this was that Taylor simply could not Master everyone under her into perfect obedience, regardless of their morals. It wasn't worth it, and it wasn't going to be, especially as things grew in scale. Just next week they'd be getting another squad of twenty more men to add to their little army.

And in the case of a battle against some alien god-like creature, it would be unfeasible to Master everyone. She needed influence and keys to power.

Lisa stopped dead in her tracks behind her, and she paused, turning to her, then following her laser-focused gaze full of numb revulsion.

There was a child in the corner, talking to a soldier in some Indonesian language with an IV in her tiny arm, curiously pawing at his rifle as he let her, covering the trigger with his hand.

"She'll be alright." She said with full conviction, putting a hand on Lisa's shoulder.

Lisa nodded, taking a shaky breath.

"Yeah. Just… How could anyone…"

Oh, Lisa wasn't worried about the girl, she was just experiencing disbelief over humanity's capacity for cruelty.

She almost felt nostalgia for when such sights could still surprise her, however many aeons ago it was.

"Some people are just monsters in disguise. Come on. We've got people to organise, and I have information about a certain organization to share with you."

Lisa slowly relented to her gentle tug, likely due to realizing they were going to talk about something as important as Cauldron, and they walked off to the upper office.

Now, how to tell Lisa the world might end in less than a decade without freaking her out...

Fuck.

Notes:

i don't like this chapter TOO much and im not sure why, but i don't think i can rewrite it any more without slowing uploads too much and getting stuck, so im uploading it. Next chappie, progress.

also about the middle scene, no im not gonna do the 'ha ha nazi ends up dating black person' bit, its stupid and unrealistic. Plus, no ships will sail the seas in this fic as I said. Imp was just being an imp and rune was just trying to be a good person

tyvm for all the comments, i read every single one of them even if i cant find the time to respond to all of them, and i recognize many of you who are long-time readers, lovely seeing you guys still around :)

see ya next tiem