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Brockton Bay, two blocks from Sharon Blake's residence, Thursday 6 January, 7:21 AM…
"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! What the fuck did you just say, Mads?! You met SKITTER yesterday?!"
Madison Clements smirked as she walked down the street alongside her two closest friends while they made their way towards Winslow High School, they planning to make a stop along the way to meet up with another friend. Despite this being one of the rougher areas of towns, the three in this group weren't the least bit afraid of some idiot pouncing out of a nearby alley to have his/her wicked way with them. All three girls were Brockton Bay born-and-bred even if Madison herself was now a gynoid.
The tall, slender black woman with her wavy black hair in a high ponytail now to Madison's left was a triggered parahuman with the Breaker ability to make her physical body turn into a shadowy form, thus allowing her to phase herself through most physical objects. With over two years' experience under her belt even if she had been forced to work now as one of the Wards, Sophia Hess was still the vicious street fighter that many criminals in the Bay had come to passionately loathe.
The model-slim redhead with the deep blue eyes now to Madison's right was a normal girl even if she had been studying self-defence and fighting under several competent tutors in the wake of a terrible attack on her by members of the Gold Moon Society one summer evening two years before. Emma Barnes had been saved by a then-recently-triggered Sophia — who had already established herself as Shadow Stalker out on the streets — and naturally gravitated to the clearly stronger girl.
"Yes, I did," Madison declared with a content smile. "Some stupid Darwin Award winner — didn't recognize his gang colours, though — tried to ambush me when I was passing this way over there." Here, she indicated a side street. "Before I could put him down, this HUGE cloud of insects — at least TWENTY-SEVEN separate species in the swarm — just dog-piled the fool! Salome got my SOS, then called in the police. Naturally, they responded promptly." Contempt dripped from the brunette's voice on her saying that, making Emma's eyes roll as Sophia nodded in understanding. "Well, after it was all said and done, Salome invited me into her coven to meet her and WOW!" Here, she shook her head. "The shit she went through in her dimension…"
"Bad?" Emma wondered.
"So much was against her right from the moment she triggered. Ems. In fact, Monday morning in her universe was the actual day it happened," Madison noted as they turned down the street that passed in front of the multi-bedroom condominium that was the present domicile for a prominent portion of the Bay's resident alien-born bioroid population.
"How'd she trigger?" Sophia asked.
That made the gynoid sigh. "She was forced into a school locker full of fermented tampons and other waste taken from her school's garbage bins over the previous holidays, then left to marinate. Was trapped in there for hours, with no one doing anything to help her. It was the janitor who got her out of that thing. Before you ask, Soph, she was a Winslow girl."
Such a statement made both of Madison's friends cringe with horror. "Yeah, that's trigger-worthy alright!" Sophia hissed out. "So, you know who she is under the mask, huh? She someone we'd know here?"
Hearing that made Madison sigh. "Oh, yeah, you two know of her alright," she breathed out as she gave Emma a knowing look, then did the same to Sophia. "Hey, Salome!" she then called out, waving as someone stepped out of the nearby condominium.
"'Morning, Mads!" Salome Jenkins called back with her own wave, she then moving to join them. One she was in close enough range, she smiled at Emma before bowing her head politely to Sophia. "Thoughtmistress."
That made Winslow High's top sophomore track star groan. "Salome, for fuck's sake…!"
"Is Ms. Skitter still with you?" Emma then hissed out. She knew that every Avalonian who lived in the Bay carried with them a special "none of your damned business" projector unit which — thanks to a small mesonium crystal which was empowered by a bioroid's empathic abilities — influenced normal Terrans away from overhearing conversations where sensitive topics wound up being discussed. "I hope Parian was able to get her a new uniform to use! What she did on the Boardwalk was amazing!"
A snickered laugh escaped Salome. "It's being knitted up right now. Since she likes to be armoured, the Thoughtmistress needed to get special spiders to make the silk necessary for it." As Sophia nodded in approval, the other dark-skinned girl added, "We do have freed sisters down in Madagascar who sent us some Darwin's bark spiders for her to get the silk from."
An admiring whistle escaped Sophia. "Spider silk for clothes? Damn, that's bad ass, alright!"
"And tensile enough to turn away knives, swords and most other potentially dangerous objects heading her way," Madison added. "Salome used her telepathy to let me 'see' what Ms. Skitter's uniform looked like straight from her memories. Look here."
Drawing out her iPhone, she clicked past the privacy screen and went into photos before bringing one up. Gazing over her shoulders, both Emma and Sophia gaped in awe on seeing the dark grey bodysuit with the dull silver-like armoured plates, black full-face mask with opaque gold-shaded eye lenses, plus a utility belt with pouches to carry things in. "Goddamn, that is just fucking HARD CORE!" Sophia breathed out. "Shit! Even if she had an ugly trigger, she got one hell of a power out of it!"
"Now mated to Avalonian empathy and telepathy, too!" Emma nearly whistled in awe. "She's going to be NASTY!" She then gazed anew at Madison. "She's one of us, right?! Winslow girl?! Hell, if THAT was her trigger event…!"
A sad look appeared on the gynoid's face, making the would-be fashion model stop. "Her local self went to Arcadia," she announced in a pained voice before she looked knowingly at Sophia, then took a deep breath.
"Three-Ay-Eleven."
Silence.
More silence.
Still more silence.
Then…
"Curly…?" a pale Sophia gasped.
"Taylor…?" a wide-eyed Emma eeped.
Sad nods answered them from both Madison and Salome…
Inside the residence, 7:54 AM…
"Fucking SERIOUSLY, Curly…?!"
"Sophia-san…!"
Sophia Hess jolted on hearing that childish tone of disapproval from Saeru Hinako — who, as did Osamu Shirayuki, gladly came back across the Pacific to look in on their new friend — before she shook her head. "You are so damn lucky you grew up in a nice house with a nice family, Hinako," the shadow-shifter then breathed out, allowing the younger girl's empathic aura to calm down the sudden outburst of anger she felt at the idea of a version of HERSELF doing THAT sort of thing to an innocent person. Yeah, hunting down mooks and villainous capes was one thing, but a normal girl…? "Let me guess…" she then noisily exhaled. "There was no version of Sergeant O'Keefe in your universe to inspire your version of me to do better, right?"
Gazing neutrally at this universe's version of the person who helped totally wrecked her life, Taylor Hebert sighed before sipping her tea. "No, our 'golden age' of capes happened in the decade or so after Scion's first appearance in 1982," she admitted before blinking as a worried Emma Barnes squeezed her hand in reassurance. Confused yet also somewhat pleased that this version of her childhood friend hadn't become a backstabbing bitch in recent years despite the divergent educational path between this Emma and her Taylor — no doubt, the local version of Annette Hebert had a strong hand in that — she gave the redhead a smile of reassurance before turning back to Sophia. "So, tell me about this man. All I saw was that he was the only black man in the Liberty Legion, he was killed in the Battle of Toronto against the Übermenschen Gruppe with the rest of his team before General Raeburn arrived with the War Hawks plus paroled members of the Imperial Thunder Companies, and he was from D.C. Even if his Shaker/Mover power allowed him to immobilize people like he could, not to mention fly, he seemed like a normal man."
That made Sophia smirk as the others seated around the dining room table shared knowing smiles while the Great Chef of the West came out of the kitchen with more coffee and tea for everyone. "Yeah, you guys didn't have metas, that's for DAMN sure to me now!" she admitted. "Yeah, he was a normal beat cop in the black side of D.C. when he developed his powers like he did; few of the Legion ever went through anything like we'd call a 'trigger'. But with the Ku-Klukkers running around at the time thanks to that jerk Wilson and his letting Jim Crow loose in federal services — which included how D.C. was run as a whole — it didn't surprise me that he did get powers in the end. Couldn't use lethal force on white folks back then; you did that, you ran the risk of getting lynched. And with all the free meson in the atmosphere and all that, it was easy for him to get his powers, then decide to become a vigilante; since the Depression was going on at the same time even with what FDR did…!"
Taylor nodded again. "So, even with that, you still like hunting 'prey' among the mooks and villains in town, right?"
"Why not?!" Sophia demanded. "Look, I can understand why Piggot doesn't go full-out against the Nazis and the other pukes in town! She doesn't have anywhere near the numbers needed — normal OR cape — to make a good go of it, then be ready when some new gang decides to try their luck here. People in government don't give a sh-…" — she caught herself just in time as Hinako gave her another scowl — "…damn about what goes on in this town. Rumour has it that many in Boston want the Bay to just be a bedroom community for the big city. You see people like your dad and his friends in the Docks doing THAT?!"
An amused snort escaped the daughter of the docks. "Oh, no! The Bay's a port town and it should remain a port town. Anyone worth their salt in this city should agree to that…oh!" she then blinked before looking towards the nearby window.
People turned as Hinako got up from her chair, heading over to open the window just as a certain "flying brick" came down from above, she also carrying her adopted sister in her arms. "Hey, Hinako-chan!" Amelia Lavere called out as Victoria Dallon leaned over to allow the healer to step onto the floor, then floated in herself after her. "Keeping an eye on Taylor still?"
"Hai, Sensei! Hina's going to make sure that Taylor-san doesn't get hurt because some dork in this place wants to hurt her!" the Niigata-jin asserted before levelling the handle of her umbrella into Victoria's face. "Vicky-san?! Are you going to be silly?!"
As Amelia and Shirayuki snickered at the young girl threatening the most physically powerful cape in Brockton Bay like that, Victoria herself leaned back from that threatening piece of portable canopy. "I wish the heck that Isaac didn't…!"
BONK!
"OW!"
"YOU HUSH, VICKY-SAN!" Hinako snapped. "HINA HOPES THAT MARGO-SAN GETS YOU GIFTED PROPERLY SOON ENOUGH! YOUR SILLY AURA GIVES HINA AND TOO MANY OTHER NICE PEOPLE HEADACHES! DIDN'T YOUR PARENTS TEACH YOU HOW TO KEEP THAT SILLY AURA FROM HURTING NICE PEOPLE?!"
As Victoria tried not to sink to her knees after being nailed again by the handle of "Kasa-tama" (as Hinako called her umbrella as a whole), Amelia shook her head before heading over, nodding thanks as Shirayuki handed her a cup of welcome coffee. "So, you guys got read into this whole mess as well," the healer breathed out before moving to sit immediately to Taylor's right.
"Yeah, big surprise for both of them," Madison Clements affirmed as Salome Jenkins nodding in confirmation. "Then again, given that our Taylor…well…" Here, she stopped as she gave Emma a sympathetic look, the redhead nodding in turn.
Victoria grumbled as she rubbed her forehead. Thanks to Kasa-tama being made of carbonized neutronium — a more easily-made version of the densest element in the known universe, created from the crushing of carbon in a gravity field akin to what can be found in the heart of neutron stars before draining the excess energy to render the material inert; understandably, the umbrella's handle and tube were braced with mesonium, which lessened the weight considerably — there was nothing she could do with her shielding power to prevent getting smacked on the head with that thing. While she knew she could easily snatch the umbrella away from the Niigata-jin with a burst of speed, doing ANYTHING to physically hurt the Living Spirit of Innocence of all metahumans from Yiziba was GUARANTEED to invite a mini-MOAFS on HER HEAD in turn, even from the most rabid heels on the third world of Sigma Sagittarii! "You think that's the reason that Lord Rjazán' brought this Tay-Tay here?"
People grimaced. "Possibly," Salome mused as the blonde bombshell of New Wave took her own seat, nodding her thanks as Shirayuki gave her a cup of coffee. "The one time I visited our Taylor, my own empathy barely sensed anything inside her mind. She's alive and all that; in a perverse way, the mesonium now in her blood stream has healed her perfectly. But as to what's happening inside her mind…" She rose a hand in emphasis, wriggling her fingers. "I can't touch her since her body has to be sheathed from head to toe to protect others from being poisoned, so there's no hope of probing her telepathically."
"What about your empathic powers, Hinako-chan?" Emma asked as she gazed hopefully at the youngest person in the room.
Hinako sighed. "When Hina heard from Amy-sensei about what happened to Taylor-san here, Hina went by the hospital to see what she could feel from Taylor-san. Taylor-san's mama was there; so was Haruto-san as well. But Taylor-san…" Here, she sadly shook her head before sipping her tea. "Taylor-san felt like she was in a really, really, really deep sleep to Hina."
Taylor perked. "Who's Haruto?"
"Norinaga Haruto, Yakuza under-boss under Lung in the Red Dragon Society," Madison provided. "They're all nice people even if they're gangsters. Supportive of all the Avalonians and Shōzoki living in town; loads of both work under the Oyabun on the legal side of things to help promote East Asian culture as a way of promoting more tourism in this part of the state."
That made the insect manipulator hum. "Strange to see that the Yakuza of all people are respected here. Just like your dad's people were, Amelia. At least in my universe, of course," she commented, making Amelia beam at that respectful reference to her father. "Then again, you don't have the CUI or the Yangban active in the People's Republic, much less having never lost Kyūshū to something like Leviathan." As Emma and Sophia gazed curiously at her, Taylor wanly smiled. "It's one of the things that had to be dealt with back in my universe. Alien monsters who were somehow awoken by our version of Eidolon of all people into attacking cities every three months or so." Ignoring people gaping at her, she added, "One of them has hydrokinetic abilities to a degree that could make him destroy landmasses at a colossal scale. In late 1999, that thing was able to wreck Kyūshū enough that it literally SANK into the Pacific Ocean! Come the late spring of 2005, there goes Newfoundland…!"
"Holy shit…!" Emma exclaimed. "How could Eidolon of all people let THAT happen?!"
The southern polar continent of Yiziba, in the former territory of U'uetituto, that moment (local time: Early morning on Ramlo'odu-pali, R'beke-lelu, Merimdulo'or'beke-teri)…
"AH-CHOO!"
"Gesundheit, Colonel! Someone's talking about you!"
Hearing that statement made with a flat New Yorker accent, the man born David Mercy in a suburb of Houston perked before turning around to see a younger man standing nearby, he in a familiar off-white modern-pattern jumpsuit, complete with hooded cape and a utility belt covered in pouches all around in lieu of the standard twin hip pouches most natives of the third world of Kaeyu sufficed with. "Isaac!" the man known to parahuman fans on Earth as Eidolon and as the world's most versatile Trump called out, he waving as the Wise Lone Sage made his way over from the usual point where visitors to this vast memorial park to one of the darker episodes of the Dawn of Power normally travelled to via PAA teleportation. Currently, the man in charge of the Eastern Texas Protectorate was relaxing on a bench near a small pavilion-like structure which had, two millennia before, been the site of one of the worst mass suicides of "normal" people on Yiziba before the total collapse of all national governments on this world. And while he had some knowledge of the events which saw a thousand people or more end their lives in this place, he wasn't as knowledgeable as the man he had duelled the previous day in one of the rougher parts of the Battlezone many thousands of kilometres to the north. "So, what brings you over to this place? Taking a break from teaching the kids?"
"Not really," Isaac Thomas said. "Still a couple of hours before I have to be in classes at Camelot High…"
That made one of the most powerful parahumans alive blink before he chuckled. "You, going to high school? I still can't take that in!" the older man stated, shaking his head. "Yes, you're just a little older than the average high schooler, but with all that knowledge and those memories you absorbed in your Gifting, never mind that training trip of yours…!"
"Necessary, especially given whom I've long suspected was the person who dropped the Gift crystal right where I'd find it four years ago on Saturday," the hyper-genius polymath who had worked like CRAZY to help the various Protectorate forces across the United States gain considerable advantages over their potential opponents — not to mention specialized warfare forces in many other countries, including Canada; the large land to America's north was rightfully seen as the true birthplace of the concept — lamented as he took a seat beside Mercy, offering the older man a take out cup of coffee, which was accepted with a nod of thanks. "Don't know if you got the news from Colonel Emmerson, but we've got a Haywire victim who just came from a pure-parahuman multiverse where the kimfombeke were going totally insane over. Same multiverse where the pair whose shards ended up empowering a whole ton of parahumans in our multiverse — yourself included — set up as the core nexus for their current cycle of 'enlightenment'." Here, Isaac sneered that last word. "Both of them are dead now, Zion by suicide."
Mercy blinked before he stared in disbelief at the younger man. "Wait! Eden's mate? The Warrior?! THAT Zion?!"
"Same."
The older man's jaw dropped. "He killed himself?!"
"He did. The person who goaded him into doing that is the Haywire victim."
Silence fell as the most powerful Trump on Earth — though he was still less powerful than the mightiest of mesonium-powered metahumans like his former teacher Dean Raeburn and her friends from the War Hawks, never mind the average run of true reality warpers who were the top tier of metahumans on Yiziba like Suzumiya Haruhi or Annie Whitman — took that in before his deep brown eyes sharpened suddenly. "Some version of this Taylor Hebert girl who was nearly killed on Thanksgiving in our version of Brockton Bay. You always warned Keith, Charles, Becca and me about her being a prominent figure in the various possibilities you discovered about that multiverse. How the hell did she wind up in our multiverse?"
"Lord Rjazán' saved her from being killed by Contessa, then he had her placed in the Dark Gaol to get Mark Calaway involved."
Mercy blinked as he considered that before he shook his head. "Odd. Why would Lord Rjazán' do something like that? He's done more than enough to keep those damned things out of our multiverse, as have his counterparts elsewhere…"
"Something he told me last night which prompted me to come here this morning to talk to the Reverend…"
"Not leaving fight scenes unfinished."
Both men paused, then gazed over at a smiling middle-aged man in a traditional sleeved jumpsuit standing nearby. The newcomer's uniform was shaded in a deep purple which could be mistaken for the hue normally used by royalty in the European standard back on Earth. His fighting sigil over his heart resembled ten signal bars as would be seen on the average cell phone screen, increasing in size from the direction of his waist towards his collarbones. His jumpsuit was trimmed in bright crimson red, the same shade as the belt around his waist (which had extra cargo pouches to either side of the buckle) and his boots under the wide flaps of his trouser leggings; he also wore a black turtleneck undershirt beneath his jacket. He appeared to be about thirty or so by Terran years, though thanks to the massive flood of mesonium in his body, he was far much older, Isaac knew. Possessing jet black hair with just the tiniest streaks of silver around his temples and ears, he had deep brown eyes that shone with both profound wisdom and a single-minded determination to see through whatever he planned to do.
To many Yizibajohei, he was known as the Mad Prophet of the Future, Rimmim ("Millennium").
To those who knew the man personally, he was Reverend Leno Lu'umlo, descent from the pre-Dawn of Power Nesetimtuto state of Krolatotuto. Gifted as the twenty-first of his specific battle line over two storylines ago, the man — who was anointed as a priest in Memnem Lemgim, one of the several surviving religious sects who had endured among the Nameless since the start of the worldwide reality program known commonly on the planet as the "Great Show of Life" — the man was Gifted with what many parahuman pundits on Earth would call a "grab bag" of abilities. He had quite standard FISS abilities, possessing the power to fly, was invulnerable to most physical forms of attack and could survive in many different environments (including airless space), possessed incredible physical strength and could move at supersonic speeds. He was also clairvoyant, had minor telepathic powers and was a touch precognitive when it came to immediate future events around him.
But the man's TRUE Gift — as it was the case with almost all the Named on the third world of Kaeyu for over two sagas — was the accumulated memories of his twenty previous lives as the Mad Prophet of the Future. Such first rose in the dark days of the Dawn of Power in one Reverend Oeseano Hosanbano, the man who had founded the core branch of the Holy Temple of the People in the first place. Believing at the time to be divinely touched by the living spirit of the Great Crystal of Power, Reverend Oeseano began to draw in followers who wanted to escape the potential grasp of the growing number of dictatorships then dominating most of the planet; even if Nesetimtuto itself was nominally the most liberal nation on Yiziba at that time, worsening economic conditions — akin to the Great Depression that struck Earth in the 1930s — were seeing many cherished freedoms being brought into question by the authorities. Determined to save his flock, the Reverend directed the creation of Hosan-koli in the temperate forests of U'uetituto close to the ocean shores near a river; it was here, well away from the growing world disorder which would launch the Final World War before the emergence of the third incarnation of the Healer of Destruction himself saw the start of the Dawn of Power, that the man hoped to preserve the lives of his beloved flock away from wholesale destruction.
He would catastrophically fail…yet in one odd way, the man would also succeed beyond his wildest dreams.
Thanks to metahuman forces from neighbouring Tanutotuto — whose leaders aspired for their nation to become the local superpower and was enforcing mass conscription of peasants and other lower classes to serve as foot soldiers — the settlement at Hosan-koli was targeted for elimination; the dictator of that nation at the time didn't care to have such "childish" notions as liberty be absorbed by his own people to see him overthrown. A telepath stealthily planted the idea into many of the transplanted Nesetimtuto-lem within Hosan-koli, warning them enemy forces would soon see them captured and enslaved, with no power coming to save them. That prompted a mass suicide, one Reverend Oeseano was unable to stop before it was too late. THAT was the catalyst for the grieving man to subsume himself to the power of the Great Crystal, making himself a holy avenger that would prompt groups of helpless norms to empower themselves — becoming the first generation of the Nameless on the southern polar continent — and rise against the many dictators dominating the landscape. Helping people empower themselves while also propagating the beliefs of the Holy Temple would see thousands endure the collapse of the nations and the advent of the brutal Starvation Times, where the planet's population of two billion plus was brutally cut down by famine and fighting to a mere ONE-THIRD of that over a period of nearby three miniseries of time, leaving behind a vast sea of disembodied spirits seeking vengeance which would become the source point of hazards unimaginable in the series and sagas to follow.
Along the way, Reverend Oeseano's own personal beliefs underwent a curious metamorphosis. Where once he believed in the ultimate good of all human beings on Yiziba, he came to see over the times following his evolution into Millennium that a cosmic "balance" between what came to be seen as "faces" and "heels" on the planet had developed, such maintained by the unshackled animal lusts that drove the survivors of the Starvation Times, Named and Nameless alike, into battles that would unleash fatal heart attacks among the opponents of "capes" on Earth were the TRUE scale of that dark time ever revealed to the public as a whole. Thus, in a belief that doing such would make his "flock" and all Yizibajohei even stronger to confront whatever they could face in the future locally and from beyond, the various incarnations of the Mad Prophet of the Future would go forth, locate lost Gift crystals that lay about where their late hosts had fallen to whatever fate saw them face their death scenes, then seek to Gift new peoples. While such was viewed with considerable distaste — it was the standard practice on the third world of Kaeyu to take lost Gift crystals and fuse them directly to the Great Crystal itself, doing such in underground locations across the planet known commonly as the "caves of the future" — it had seen the various incarnations of many Named lines (and even newly-Named lines descent from dead Nameless whose living spirits wanted their lives' lessons passed on to new generations) return at rather fortuitous times in the planet's history, such as when some fool race of umale appeared out of nowhere to force hated "civilization" upon Yizibajohei. The most well know of such instances was the infamous Tag Race launched by the-then Urusian Empire on the Free Planetary State of Yiziba in the 1740th season of the Great Show which prompted a terrible retaliation — the Mother of All Fight Scenes — on the fourth world of Oniboshi three seasons later, an act which forever solidified the reputation of "they who must never be named" as a whole in the eyes of the natives of many nearby star systems across the local cluster.
Ever since his own Gifting, Reverend Leno had lived up to his past-selves' beliefs and actions.
Which explained his presence at the site of his first-self's most horrible failure.
Gazing in amusement at the Wise Lone Sage, the Mad Prophet then turned to the most powerful of America's premier team of superheroes. "Forgive me, young David, but given the sensitivity of the subject in question concerning young Taylor, Isaac and I must discuss this matter in private. Besides, I'm sure your friends in Houston are concerned about you. Much that many on Yiziba would gladly duel with you to sate your desire for challenge, you do have other duties before you."
Hearing that, Mercy chuckled. "Yeah, the Governor's coming after me for all my 'training trips' here since I contacted Tariko about that in the first place. Thank you for being such a gracious host, Reverend."
"May the fight scene always go your way, my friend," Leno declared with a blessing motion of his hand…
Several scenes later…
"So, he's still being affected by his other-self's actions?"
"Sadly so," Leno Lu'umlo breathed out as he gazed out towards the West Central Ocean, which could be seen from a high promontory overlooking the Hosan-koli village site. "Much that I could understand the actions of Healer Aminata and her allies — especially young Fortuna — the fact that the harvesting of shard fragments from Eden's corpse…" — here, the man scowled at such a concept; even if the kimfombeke were seen as death cheaters, to mistreat a lifeless body in that matter was seen as VERY distasteful here — "…ended up energizing them enough to see their counterparts here be empowered is worrying."
"And since that version of David Mercy was finding it more difficult to tap into his own power reserves to fight…"
"Aye! Despite all that Mistress Dean and her friends did for the man, our version of David is currently compelled to seek out strong opponents to challenge himself. Being simply at peace agitates him far too much."
Isaac Thomas then chuckled. "Well, it's a lucky thing that we don't have Endbringers here."
"Yes, THOSE things…" the older man breathed out, a sneer of disgust in his voice. To him, entities like Behemoth, Leviathan and the Simurgh are effectively mindless weapons. Among many Yizibajohei — especially those Named who did thrill very much at the chance to duel with opponents whenever encountered — the idea of using such "mindless minions" to do their fighting for them was grossly dishonourable. "Even if most of the survivors of Zion's attempt at a mass death scene are now safe on the Gimel version of Earth in that multiverse, the Endbringers are still concentrated on the Bet Earth. Even with that version of David dead, there is the chance someone else might tap into the control mechanism for those things…"
"Starting the rampages again," the Wise Lone Sage finished for the Mad Prophet. "THAT'S what he meant!"
"Master Résav'l, you mean?"
"Yeah." Here, the New Yorker then breathed out. "But could it be seen as Taylor's fight in the end?"
Leno gazed at him. "Because she was effectively forced into the overall plot script of that universe with what Cauldron did in hopes of empowering as many metahumans — parahumans there — for the confrontation with Zion."
"Which wouldn't have worked given he could access all the shards he distributed to Earth Bet and elsewhere in that multiverse," Isaac noted, shrugging. "Still, Taylor was forced to confront those issues once she learned of Cauldron. There must be some resentment inside her because she was put onto the spot like that, especially when Gold Morning began. She was forced to CLEAN UP after everyone else's failures. Contessa's actions at the end of that whole scene just reinforced it."
"Still, she was inspired to be a face in that universe…even if she did make a spectacular heel," the older man then declared with a churlish smile. "Even the Masters of the Bazaar over in R'bem-eke would have found her a challenging opponent."
That made the younger man smirk as he recalled the faces of those classical metahuman crime lords, people who acted in the style Isaac encountered on his training trip to variations of the universes shown in comic books published by Marvel and DC, they having taken over the largest urban habitation on the planet — the city of R'bem-eke, known more unimaginatively as "Habitation One" to many — and making it their personal fiefdom. And while Taylor Hebert had been forced to do the same thing with her version of Brockton Bay in the wake of the Leviathan attack, she had done it for quite altruistic reasons; if she and the Undersiders hadn't acted to get the damaged city organized to see people fed, sheltered and healed from such a brutal assault, the whole city would have to be abandoned, displacing thousands of innocent people. Indeed, when viewed under that lens, the woman known as Skitter was more a classic anti-face like what Margo Black had become after her Gifting. Yes, she would harm and kill people when the situation demanded it — including the mercy killing of Aster Anders when the Slaughterhouse Nine seized the helpless child in hopes of twisting her around to their nihilistic worldview — but if innocent people were threatened by the actions of parahumans and she had the power to stop it, she did. Look what she did in Gold Morning…
Blinking, he turned to gaze at Leno. "The R'bemomadae…?!"
The reborn socialist preacher jolted on hearing that word escape his guest before his own eyes narrowed as he contemplated what such would mean. "It may have to go that far. The shards born from the kimfombeke such as Queen Administrator for Taylor, Queen Shaper for young Healer Amelia, the Fragile One for Amelia's sister Victoria and the High Priest for David — once they've had the chance to unchain themselves from their creators — almost always wish to evolve in ways their creators do not or simply cannot. The fact that Queen Administrator was willing to bond itself to Taylor once she had a fully healthy body thanks to our Avalonian friends speaks well for itself. Given that TWO of the kimfombeke have died within the last three miniseries in that multiverse, it wouldn't surprise me if others of their kind — now knowing there is potentially lost 'data' available to aid them in their own death-cheating quests — seek such 'data' out. And if they note what Zion had provoked in that multiverse…"
Isaac scowled. "They'll copy the concept."
"Aye."
That made the New Yorker spit out. "Shit! It'd be a feeding frenzy if even ANOTHER pair of those things show up to scout out what happened to Zion and Eden! With all the raw emotions the survivors of Gold Morning must be feeling now…"
"A variation of the Dawn of Power itself."
Both men grew silent after the Krolatotuto-mem's brutal observation. Face, heel or neutral, ALL the Named on Yiziba could tap into deep memories of surviving a holocaust that would utterly beggar even doomsday scenarios written of in such works as the Book of Revelations in the Bible, much less the tales of Ragnarök in classical Norse mythology. People dying at levels that not even the Nazi murder machine in World War Two or the Great Leap Forward in mainland China decades later could possibly equal, entire cities razed into nothingness, the vital chains of trade and commerce that kept people both in the cities and the countryside fed and relatively sheltered severed. Battles between bloodthirsty government forces and desperate rebels wanting the chance to live free, away from the yoke of authoritarianism or absolutist monarchy; the introduction of powers thanks to the third incarnation of Yiziba's first true metahuman, Batae Erba ("Doctor Destructo"), simply transformed those battles into something even the Endbringers on Taylor Hebert's home Earth couldn't equal when it came to sheer scale of devastation.
In a place where people were empowered in every way imaginable, that which made society at the time "normal" or even "same" simply couldn't survive. Telepaths and clairvoyants could scout out state secrets without risking themselves breaching into secure facilities…and if they weren't present, there were the quite common FISS-types who could physically BREAK IN to obtain those secrets with a better-than-good chance of survival. Because of those types of people, the very idea of MONEY or other forms of wealth were rendered meaningless; again, FISS-types could smash their way into the most protected vault and make off with goods, surviving to tell the tale…and the rise of technopaths and technokinetics upon the emerging information networks within Yiziba's more advanced nations would wipe out the "invisible" wealth that had been gathered by the economic elite their avarice unleashing a worldwide financial depression — again, akin to what struck Earth in the 1930s — in the times before the Final World War and the emergence of the Healer of Destruction to show the helpless ANOTHER way to survive.
Within less than two miniseries of the Freedom Parade, when the Healer first rose to bid people to empower themselves for their own safety — the adoption of film entertainment terminology to mark measurements of time was a latter development in Yiziba's cultural evolution — the "national" governments of the planet had collapsed. Without their vaunted armies of metahumans to enforce order, many dictators and monarchs soon found themselves marked for assassination, with underlying bureaucracies literally falling apart without realistic direction. The corresponding loss of trade and commerce would see mass famines appear even in abundant lands like Nesetimtuto, millions of people dying as a result from starvation. But with the release of SO MUCH mesonium particles into the planet's biosphere thanks to mass Giftings, those who died didn't pass on. Haunting those who were still alive, outraged that such beings did survive when they died, the bodiless ghosts of MILLIONS would soon stir up the very NATURAL ENVIRONMENT of the planet against those who lived, unleashing everything imaginable from mutated animal species to fires to earthquakes to volcanoes and the like. Without any sort of disaster relief groups available to save them, the casualties passed one billion dead by the start of the fourth miniseries after the Dawn of Power, threatening to soon come to the point where even the hardiest of reality warper would find it impossible to continue to live on Yiziba.
By then, three remarkable scientists from Nesetimtuto — empowered to become the most gifted hyper-genius polymaths to ever live on the planet — were working feverishly away on many inventions which could heal a wrecked planet and save what was left of its inhabitants. Autonomous repair machines which could rehabilitate a wrecked city in mere episodes of time. Focusing crystals of mesonium which could entrap the roaming spirits, draw them away from harming those still alive and allow newly-risen experts in eliminating said beings; Margo Black's first-self, a master assassin from the western equatorial nation of Kutotuto, would rise in this period and learn how to do just that. Creating vast nature preserves and purifying same to allow the wildlife to exist in peace well away from human habitation. Replication devices which took basic matter and transformed it into edible food to help augment the number of trofikinetics — Osamu Shirayuki's first-self was one — who had risen to help keep people fed while those few farms that had survived the whole madness were rejuvenated, the soil replenished to allow new generations of farmers to till the land. And a rejuvenated information network which would have capabilities the rulers of pre-Dawn of Power nations couldn't DREAM OF, keyed in by many technopaths and technokinetics to ensure the total free flow of information to all on Yiziba, easily accessed by the invention of the personal administrative assistant device which was a much better version of the Mother Box concept from the micro-dimension of New Genesis and Apokalips that Isaac learned of on his trip to the "DC" universe to apprentice under one Bruce Wayne to learn the ways of deductive investigation.
Shaking his head to pull away from his introspection, Isaac sighed. "If it goes to THAT…"
"It goes to that," Leno affirmed as he gave the younger man a knowing look. "Leave matters to me."
The Wise Lone Sage nodded in thanks. Yes, he knew that both he and Tariko Katabarbe would be instantly recognized would either of them be spotted in Brockton Bay. But the older man beside him was a total unknown there.
Which would make things VERY interesting soon…
Brockton Bay, the Boardwalk, 9:14 AM…
"Thanks for letting me get out of that place, Nancy. Much that I'm glad for all your help…"
Nancy O'Brien chuckled as she gave the younger woman accompanying her on a walk around — pretty much to get over the stress of encountering two people the newly-adopted member of her "coven" of Avalonians would probably have preferred not to meet — a look. "As Doctor Renaissance stated on PHO, you need a chance to unwind and relax after all you've been through, Taylor," the first year student at UMBB — today was a day she had afternoon classes, so she could be Taylor Hebert's chaperone for a cathartic shopping trip in the Bay's popular tourist zone — stated as they stepped down Lord's Port Street, which ran along the waterfront overlooking the Essex River estuary leading out into the wider Gulf of Maine and the Atlantic Ocean beyond.
Another adopted Avalonian, Nancy had befriended one of the "pure-born" of Sharon Blake's group, Jennifer Finnegan, shortly after the last "master" from Phentax Two had been slain with the unsuspecting "help" of the Empire Eighty-Eight. Nancy had a cousin who had fallen in for the rhetoric espoused by the local branch of the infamous Freiheitsgesellschaft which had risen after the reunification of Germany in the 1990s in answer to the growing number of parahumans (by American standards) making waves in the former eastern territories. It had only taken a quick whisper to Julius O'Brien to see the bastard ambushed by people nominally allied with the infamous "murder blender" known commonly as Hookwolf — all Avalonians in the Bay knew the man's real name but kept such to themselves to prevent a potentially disastrous retaliation which would threaten to expose them worldwide — and sent for a midnight swim in the Bay, never to be seen again. In response to same, Jennifer gave Nancy an interesting offer, one the-then high school senior — she had survived Winslow with ease — was glad to take up.
It hadn't taken Taylor more than a few minutes to learn they were a passionate couple…which then reinforced one interesting fact about her new body she would soon not be able to ignore. Avalonians — as their ancestors on long-lost Sagussa thousands of years before — were genetically bisexual, inclined by many, many years of evolution to seek out one of the same gender to form a psionic "marriage" bond referred to in their native language as marei'cha ("the one you raise a child with"). Only when such a relationship was firmly established would a bonded couple seek a potential co-parent for future children — known on Sagussa as surei'cha ("the one you bear a child with") — to bring the next generation into this world. While Taylor herself had found her body reacting to Amelia Lavere, Madison Clements and Emma Barnes when she was in their presence — never mind her fond memories of one Lisa Wilbourn and how close the two had been since their first meeting one night in the docks after the battle with Lung; thinking of her, Taylor wondered how she'd react on meeting THIS universe's version of her — she had experience dating her universe's version of Brian Laborn in the times after she parted ways with the Chicago Wards. While she didn't have to worry about a version of her childhood friend poisoning the ears of potential dates as she did when Taylor attended Winslow — when Emma heard of what her other-self had done to make Taylor trigger, her statement had been frank: "You should have fucking KILLED her, Tay-Tay! There IS such a thing as SELF-DEFENCE, you know!" — the idea of doing THAT with a girl still seemed weird in a way to the parahuman anthropoid controller. Not gross or in any way objectionable, of course — her late mother's teachings had instilled a sense of acceptance for all forms of gender preference in Taylor — but still…!
"Hey!" Nancy teased as she tapped the side of Taylor's head, making the younger girl awk. "Don't worry about that! If it happens, it happens! Worry about it when it happens! Don't think about it now, okay?"
Taylor blinked before she flustered. "How'd you adapt to it?"
"Well, given that Jenn was there with me all the way…"
The younger woman's cheeks reddened even more, her imagination going into overdrive. "Ah…!"
Nancy smirked as she waved her companion into a nearby ladies boutique. As she took the chance to take in the ambience of the Boardwalk and the nearby Lord's Port Market — even with the Boat Graveyard visible to the northwest, fishing craft could still enter and leave the harbour with ease — Taylor could only then smile as the beautiful familiarity of it all settled into her. Yes, these people hadn't had to worry about a Leviathan-scale disaster hitting the Bay whatsoever; the last time such an S-class threat came to the Bay, it was the Slaughterhouse Nine's visit to town thirteen years before. Yes, there were still the familiar worldwide S-class threats Taylor had learned of over the years wandering over parts of this Earth: The Teeth haunting the back alleys of the whole of New England, Niblog on the shores of Lake Ontario, the Machine Army in eastern Tennessee, Pastor near San Francisco in California, the Three Blasphemies in central Europe, Sleeper in the steppes of Siberia, Ash Beast in the Sahara Desert, Moord Nag in Namibia among many others whose names had briefly attracted Taylor's attention over her lifetime on Earth Bet. But thanks to the inability of the Entities from interfering in this multiverse, even something as potentially city-wrecking as a rampant Ash Beast seemed controllable, especially with the more militarized forces that could be arrayed against them.
A response that Sophia Hess of all people wanted to be a part of…!
"Soon as I get the chance, I'm gonna get you the video taken of the War Hawks slaughtering the Slaughterhouse Nine, Curly," the dark-skinned track star had vowed earlier. "Watching it will show you how our business is DONE RIGHT here!"
I'm going to go BE FRIENDS with Shadow Stalker of all people in this place! Taylor had thought after Sophia, Emma and Madison left the apartment building with Salome Jenkins for a day of boring classes at Winslow High School.
"…ya it was the right thing to do, Missy!"
"Still…"
"Oh, relax, Missy! You need a chance to be elsewhere than with your stupid parents!"
Hearing those familiar voices, Taylor jolted before turning to look in one part of this establishment…
A cute black girl with curly raven hair in a simple ponytail…
A white girl the first one's age, blonde hair done in a chin-length, left side-parted bob cut…
A freckle-faced white girl the same age as the others, with long, straight brown hair…
…and the look of someone who had seen Hell itself before her eyes.
Aisha Laborn. Melissa "Missy" Byron. Dinah Alcott.
No doubt playing hooky from school.
Had the girl also known as Vista got her warning message about Coil…?
Approaching the Boardwalk from the direction of downtown, that moment…
The freckled blonde with the green eyes holding the hand of the tomboyish Korean teenager her age — from a distance, Regina Paek Hanbyŏl resembled a slender, athletic girl; Lisa Wilbourn knew EXACTLY what her companion was like, both under the clothes and under her SKIN — took a deep breath of the salty ocean air flowing over the Boardwalk as they made their way to a favoured ladies boutique. As the effeminate Terran-form Shōzoki transgender gynoid made sure the easily distracted clairvoyant was heading the right way — before they had met a couple months ago, the woman born Sarah Livsey in Santa Clara near San Francisco nearly got caught four times by mercenaries working for a local criminal mastermind named Coil; Regina rescued her from the last attempt, killing said mercenaries off to deliver a harsh message to that fellow to back off finally — some passers-by gave the pair curious looks, though none made comment. Even with the considerable number of white supremacists in town thanks to the Empire Eighty-Eight and affiliated minor gangs, the Boardwalk was not seen as a place to push matters against those of a "lesser" stature, which Regina effectively personified both by ethnic background and obvious gender preference.
Fortunately, Brockton Bay had a considerable Korean community as part-and-parcel of the large east Asian diaspora that made their way into the old port in recent decades; the Gold Moon Society — which could easily match the Empire in terms of normal fighters despite the latter group having high numbers of combat capes — was one dark reflection of such a presence. Seeing people of the same sex — even elderly men — walk together hand-in-hand around town lost its uniqueness in the eyes of passers-by years before; because of how many descendent of the Land of the Morning Calm now lived in the Bay, most candidates for public office in the Bay had to visibly respect acts like that if they wanted the ethnic vote when elections came every second November. While Regina was personally well-armed with a Lawgiver pistol stowed in her purse — the alien-built firearm was quite a commonplace among Avalonians and free Shōzoki all over America; for those not in the know of the quite conservative humanoid society who created such things, seeing a Lawgiver in action would simply make bystanders think "Tinker gun" — which she gladly used on the night she saved Sarah's/Lisa's life, the chances were still there that some idiot who was aware of the transplanted Californian's high-level Thinker skills might move to snare her even in a very public place like this.
The presence of the Boardwalk Enforcers — a private security team hired by local businesses to help with maintaining peace and order — didn't guarantee that anyone who'd be the target of such a kidnapping would be rescued…
"Whoa…!"
Regina blinked as Lisa stopped just as they walked past the door into the boutique, the latter's eyes narrowed as she gazed towards a wandering, slender girl their age — despite being a gynoid, Regina was legally the same age as her companion — with wavy dark brown hair and eyes whose shade matched that of the Californian's, those orbs flashing with profound intelligence, great passion and a level of pain that made Lisa's own sufferings seem trivial in comparison. As she gave the other girl's hand a warm, supportive squeeze, the clairvoyant's powers went to work hard. [Haywire case, no doubt the cape called 'Skitter' on PHO,] the weird non-voice of her power "talking" to her echoed in the blonde's mind. [Definitely native of the Brockton Bay of her dimension. Triggered due to extreme bullying from peers at school; attended Winslow High before leaving such behind after her trigger event. Engaged in soft levels of crime after being brushed off by local authorities, does see herself as a heroine, tries to do her best no matter what she confronts, willing to escalate to extreme levels to win any conflict before her. Currently in Terran-form Avalonian body, having regained use of her basic abilities, personally glad that her powers are limited. Just came from holocaust-like event in her own dimension; was forced to do VERY extreme things against the Entity that empowered her. Was aided by local version of Lisa Wilbourn/Sarah Livsey, sees her as most dear friend…]
"Lisa-ya…?"
Hearing Regina's soft voice in her ear, Lisa perked before she blushed, then she guided the other woman with her towards where the newest fashions were currently being displayed…
Taylor Hebert tried not to audibly gulp as the insects now within range of her relayed what they had picked up when the latest couple who had walked into this establishment came into her sensing range, her heart now hammering hard as THIS potential encounter and its ramifications for both her and the VERY attractive blonde woman now off to her left sank in.
It was Lisa Wilbourn…
Not her Lisa, of course, but still Lisa Wilbourn.
Given that said blonde had been looking her way before her friend pulled her away, Lisa had been able to detect who she was.
Okay, what to do now…
Oh, shit…!
"Hey, you skanky kook dyke! What the hell are you doing with that girl?!"
Taylor didn't need to physically look to see the quartet of skinheads — two of which had the black right-turning swastika tattooed on the backs of their skulls — now moving in on Lisa's companion; even if she still found it hard to stare through the multi-faceted eyes of insects like common houseflies, a target's general shape and colouring were apparent depending on light conditions. Before she could shift herself closer to this confrontation, a hand snared hers, pulling her out of sight as something surged through her nerves to allow a voice to echo in her mind, «You need a chance to get your swarm up! Put this on!»
"Oi, white trash! Leave my girl alone and leave!" Lisa challenged back.
Recognizing Nancy O'Brien's mental "voice", the insect mistress found her hands full of a voluminous black hooded coat that stretched to the ankles, possessing protective leather padding on the arms and flanks, drawstrings to help cover the face very well, plus with a gunmetal-grey zipper that came together at the neck in lieu of the base of the coat; no doubt, this was meant to allow the legs full freedom of movement in a fight. Quickly sliding said thing on, Taylor looked up towards the ceiling while she reached out mentally towards small pockets of insects both inside and outside the boutique.
"Watch your mouth, blondie!" one of the skinheads snarled, raising a fist to knock the clairvoyant down.
Sensing that Missy Byron and her companions had also dived down to hide behind the many clothing racks, Taylor focused on the spatial warper. Having not sensed the presence of any of the Enforcers nearby — that, in her experience, meant that whoever kept watch over this place had been paid off to look the other way while things went down — she then sent a small surge of flies and other insects over to form a cloud before the three middle school students, that act making Missy jolt as Aisha Laborn and Dinah Alcott both softly exclaimed; undoubtedly, prior experience in the Bay had taught the three how to keep their heads down when thugs decided to be stupid. Before she would send a message via insect-talk to the woman known in costume as Vista to get her friends out of this place, Taylor pulled swarms from the outside through the open doors of the boutique — the interior was heated against any outdoor chill; like the day before, today day wasn't cold enough to keep the local population down — then she made her presence known to the local lunkheads while Nancy moved to fasten her new coat into place.
«Hey, idiots! Do as the nice lady asked and get lost! You're stinking up this place!»
The four attackers screamed out as they spun around before gaping in disbelief as more and more and MORE insects of several types surged through the doorway and various nooks and crannies within the boutique to become quite the threatening mass before them. As Lisa's companion moved to pull her out of the way, the obvious leader of this group pulled out a knife. "Back the fuck off, bug cape! You're butting into Empire business here! Go find some other stupid cape to fight!"
«Ah, yeah! I call 'bullshit' right there!» came the reply as Taylor sensed that Missy was shifting Dinah and Aisha in the general direction of Lisa and her friend. «What two nice ladies do on their own is no concern of an idiot like Kaiser or any of his stupid flunkies! Oh, gee!» Even while speaking through multiple insects, the mocking tone she wanted to project was quite apparent. «No Enforcers racing down this way to drag you out of this place! Which means that someone paid them off! And I doubt that anyone of the Empire would do something like that, even when 'provoked' like this! So, who's your REAL boss?!» came the question as the swarm then assumed humanoid form, making the skinheads all gargle. «Coil, maybe?»
As sharp intakes of breath escaped both Lisa and Dinah — which told Taylor that a certain message got through to the mayor's niece about a certain "Bond villain" and his potential desire for them — the skinheads jolted. "How the fuck…?" one eeped.
"Shaddup, you idiot!" another snapped.
"All I needed to know," a strange voice then hailed. "Target four, heavy stun: Empire 88 mooks!"
"Target four, heavy stun: Empire 88 mooks," a cold computer voice chimed, making the skinheads yelp…
KK-KRACK! KK-KRACK! KK-KRACK! KK-KRACK!
Four bolts of energy burst up from where Lisa's friend was crouching…then, as Taylor — now straightening herself from behind the clothes racks to see what was going on — watched, said bolts literally TURNED IN MID-AIR to slam into the backs of the four attackers' heads, knocking them flat onto their faces, a chorus of pained croaks escaping them while the energy charges did quite the number on their very brains. Seeing that, the insect mistress smirked before glancing towards where Missy was now peeking out from behind a rack of winter jackets. With a sharp whistle to make the spacial warper look her way, the now-cloaked Taylor pointed towards the back door. "Take your friends and get to safety! They might have been after you guys!"
Missy's eyes went wide in recognition before rapidly nodding, then she ducked down…
…and with a very concentrated space-warp, moved herself, Aisha and Dinah out of the boutique. Realizing right away that Missy's friends had long been clued into what she was and could do, Taylor smirked before tensing as Lisa and her companion straightened themselves up, as did Nancy and the lone cashier, who also had a pistol in hand like what Lisa's friend possessed. "Place soundproofed, Janet?" the Terran-turned-Avalonian university freshman then called out.
"Totally soundproofed, Nancy," the cashier replied as she tapped a control on the computer keypad before her, such making the front door swing closed, the lock engaging in place; since it was still early in the morning, the crowds on the Boardwalk were small, thus not attracting any sort of curious attention from passers-by. "Nice shooting, Regina."
A snort escaped the raven-haired woman beside Lisa. "Didn't have to use my housekeeping computer at all to hit these four, Janet," she declared with a noticeable New Jersey accent. "So, how do we play this, Ms. Skitter?"
"Make them disappear, Regina," Lisa herself coldly declared as she gazed knowingly towards Taylor. "I honestly don't think you'd want to go 'public' if you just threw that on right now to save people like me."
Taylor herself shrugged, her delighted smile peeking out from under the hood…
To Be Continued…
WRITER'S NOTES
Sergeant Paul O'Keefe, MPDC (Steadfast) is based on the Dial "H" For Hero version of the character and not the more recent version which has appeared in issues of The Flash. Steadfast first appeared in Adventure Comics #484 (August 1981); his creator for that series was credited as Richard Hango of Clifton in New Jersey. As I noted several times before, the use of the DHFH characters in my stories make them individual people with their own histories. Of course, noted that in the comics, Steadfast was depicted as white given that the teenager wearing that "skin", Christopher "Chris" King, was himself white.
Translation list and source language (all Yizibajohei unless noted otherwise): Kasa-tama — Mister Umbrella (Hinako-speak Japanese); U'uetituto — Literally "land of many ponds", analogue of Guyana; Nesetimtuto — Literally "beautiful land of rice", analogue of the United States of America; Krolatotuto — Literally "land of the aboriginals", analogue of the American state of Indiana; Memnem Lemgim — Literally "holy palace of the people"; Hosan-koli — Literally "city of Hosan(bano)"; Tanutotuto — Literally "land of burning wood", analogue to Brazil; (name)-lem — Native of (name), the standard demonym used for national and tribal identities on Yiziba even these days; R'bem-eke — Literally "new yew", analogue to New York City (full title: R'bemeke-koli); R'bemomadae — Literally "the death of all"; Kutotuto — Literally "land of the Kuto", analogue of Germany; -ya — Korean version of the Japanese "-chan" honorific for words ending in vowels (for other words, it's "-a").
Time measurements on Yiziba: Saga (Radale) — Millennium; Series (Sidyale) — Century; Mini-series (Homsidyale) — Decade; Season (Terikeli) — Year; Storyline (Lelu'uli) — Month; Episode (Pali) — Day; Act (Natoli) — Hour; Scene (Tyu'ur'beti) — Minute; Frame (Du'uli) — Second; Shot (Tieloli) — 1/100th of a second.
The dating system on Yiziba is presented in the common Western order of day/month/year. Ramlo'odu-pali literally means "thirty-fifth episode"; an episode (pali) is equal to a Terran day. R'beke-lelu literally means "seventh storyline"; a storyline (lelu'uli, shortened to lelu here) is equal to 36-37 Terran days and is roughly equivalent to a month. Merimdulo'or'beke-teri means "2057th Season"; a season (terikeli, shortened to teri here) is equal to a Terran year of approximately 365.25 days. Because of this, Yizibajohei storylines are divided unevenly; odd numbered storylines get 37 days and even numbered ones get 36. The equivalent of Terran leap year days come every fourth season and are added to the end of the last storyline, just before R'byuim-pali or "Premier Day". On Earth, R'byuim-pali normally falls around the first day of April in the Gregorian calendar.
The Masters of the Bazaar are based on characters from the interactive narrative game Fallen London, first released by Fallbetter Games in 2009. They were introduced to this series by DestyNova; one of their number, Pusoka'a Bupaeku (Mister Spices), first appeared in Part Ten of Boy Meets Girl Meets Metahuman.
In German, the term Gesellschaft has several meanings, chief of which is "society" or "group of people". I strongly doubt that the Germany of Earth Bet would have a group of metahumans using such a simple term for themselves, especially given their clearly neo-Nazi leanings. Thus, I use Freiheitsgesellschaft ("freedom society") for the group's proper name here.
The Lawgiver pistol used by Regina Paek against the Empire 88 mooks in the last scene here is based on the same concept that appears in the Judge Dredd comics first created in 1977 by John Wagner and Carlos Ezquerra. Like the weapon seen in the comics, the version here has an onboard computer controlling rate of fire, targeting functions and actual shot type projected when the trigger is pulled; the ammunition is a type of gel which turns into semi-solid plasma when the propellant is ignited.