A Champion in Earth Bet - Worm-Original Setting: Story-Only Thread

by Atlas8

A Champion in Earth Bet is a Worm quest with light crossover elements from The Avatar's World. The Avatar's World was my first attempt at creating a custom superhero setting, back when I was running a Mutants&Masterminds campaign... Playing this quest won't actually require any prior knowledge of it, though - it's just one character crossing over. [Author: sun tzu]

4. UNEDITED PAGE 4

GUILD REQUIREMENTS

Hookwolf, like he says, is a warrior. He is courageous in the face of danger. He is tenacious. He is a fighter.

But, so were the Spartans of old, and they were monsters too. Courage without compassion is worse than weakness.

"Are you trying to prove your courage to them with this?" you gesture toward the various bystanders… even as, multi-tasking, you use your communication power to whisper instructions to all the civilians in range, telling them to get to a safe distance. "Your courage, George Robert Brown, was never in doubt." Using his real identity is not problematic, seeing as it has already been exposed weeks ago. "Rather, it is your humanity that is lacking. Again and again, you have acted without compassion, without the kindness and respect that humans being need to live together. You act like a violent beast, not like a civilized human being.

"What makes it all the more tragic is that you never had to. It would not take superhuman effort for you to act civilized. You are not being compelled by a Simurgh or a Heartbreaker to hurt innocent people. You always had a choice… and right now, perhaps for the last time, you still do."

Your communication power is now whispering instructions to the approaching Protectorate heroes. "The outcome of a fight between us is not in doubt. You're going to be arrested; that much is inevitable. You do, however, have a choice in how it takes place. You can choose to be civilized about it. You can accept that, having hurt many people and broken the law, you must face the consequences. You can turn yourself in, accept what punishment society sees fit for you, and handle it like a mature human being. You'll be in jail either way, but you'll be in jail as an adult, rather than as a neonazi thug. Or," you shrug, "you can insist on forcing in some more unnecessary violence, and choose instead to be a Nazi Scrappy-Doo forever. It's your choice, Mister Brown."

The villain snarls. "Save your lectures. I know who I am. Fight with your powers, not your useless words."

"You choose more violence, then."

"I choose to fight. To the end, if need must be."

"Very well. It's your choice." You cross your arms.

He shifts his position, ready to do battle. Then waits as nothing happens. "You're not going to attack?"

"I'm not going to fight you, Mister Brown. I have no compunctions about personally taking down supervillains of all stripes, but right here? Right now? My assistance would be completely superfluous. I believe the heroes who have been protecting this city from the Empire and its ilk for years have more than earned the right for closure." You gesture at Miss Militia and Triumph, who show up with Tsunami. "I'll let them do the honors."

"You…" Hookwolf begins, but stops talking, shifting his position. He then launches himself toward the Protectorate heroes.

He doesn't stand a chance, of course. At this distance, even in his transformed state, he would need several seconds to reach them. He is doing so in open terrain. And with you combining super-speed and your usual force-fields to make sure there's no collateral damage, Miss Militia doesn't need to hold back as much as she usually does. Her weapon turns into a rocket launcher.

The explosion sends Hookwolf flying. He gets up, and tries to charge once more. Not a chance - with her power, Miss Militia doesn't even need to reload. A second missile hits him dead on.

In a daze, he gets up again. You quickly scan him to confirm that his life is not in danger, and signal Miss Militia. The third explosion finally knocks him out.

"I really hope someone was filming that," says Triumph, "because I want to watch the entire thing on loop forever."

Hookwolf, like Cricket, will be judged shortly, and is all but guaranteed to end up in the Birdcage very soon. You are still not happy with the current system, but fixing it is not your highest priority right now.

Both director Piggot and Glenn Chambers agree that the way things turned out can easily be capitalized upon by the PRT and leveraged against the Empire: Hookwolf, arguably the gang's best fighter, got utterly, publicly trounced by a Middle-Eastern Protectorate heroine wearing the flag. Chambers comments that if he cannot use that to great effect, then he might as well hand in his resignation.

There are a few more Empire-related arrests during the day - not actual members, but people who were willing to make illegal deals. One man who sold dogs to the Empire's dog-fighting ring, that sort of things. Near as the police can tell, the actual Empire - both the capes (minus Cricket and Hookwolf) and the nonpowered members (the remaining dozens who were not arrested - between 25% and 50% of the whole gang in their estimation) - have left the city. There are multiple guesses as to where they'll go.

A patrol aside, it seems that your night is mostly free. You take thirty minutes to talk to Noelle, some more time to read about various political and historical tidbits of Earth-Bet…

...and then your communicator comes to life. "Avatar, do you copy?"

"Yes. Chief director Costa-Brown?" It sounds like her voice, at least.

"Correct. I hope I'm not interrupting anything urgent, but we have a situation."

"I am available. What sort of situation?"

"Weather satellites are showing a storm forming in the Northwest Pacific. Too early to tell if it will turn into a full-blown hurricane, but it is going to turn into a serious enough storm to cause non-trivial damage." She pauses. "You have mentioned in the past an ability to neutralize cyclones. Do you believe you can do so?"

"Well, normally, I'd be working with a team of meteorologists who are familiar with the effects of what I do, and can tell me where to go to be most effective," you say, "but, yes. To the very least, I should be able to mitigate the winds."

"Then do so. That is an order issued to you as a Protectorate member."

"Yes ma'am."

Considering the distances involved, it would take you the better part of an hour to get to the location, even at your speed - and that's time enough for the storm to worsen. As such, you opt instead for a series of long-range teleports. These take some time and concentration, making them less than ideal for combat, but for this, they work.

You find yourself in low orbit, observing the burgeoning storm. You've done this sort of thing many times in the past decades, and you've got some idea of how to handle this.

You divide the cyclonic zone into four quadrants, centered around the eye of the storm. In each quadrant, using weather control abilities, you take five minutes to equalize temperatures between the upper and lower atmosphere - without that, the storm has far less to go on. You then then spend the next hour going from quadrant to quadrant, generating winds counter to the ones forming the storm. The amount of energy you can devote to the task is not even close to the total energy of the storm itself, but it is enough to disrupt its pattern.

By the time you are done and the winds hit the Japanese coast, you may not have entirely eliminated the storm… but you are fairly confident that you have greatly weakened it. Instead of a disastrous event that could kill dozens, maybe hundreds of people, Japan merely gets inconveniently strong winds that force people indoors for the day.

The next day sees no further violence in Brockton Bay. With the Empire now visibly gone, it's time for the next step in the plan to discredit it - a march through the gang's former territory.

Officially, it's a "No More Villains" march celebrating the fact that all the city's superpowered gangs are effectively gone… but the choice of location is not coincidental. Both you and members of the PRT have been talking to representatives of minority communities for the past few days in order to arrange this; the march has a large proportion of Asians, Hispanics, African-Americans, and other ethnic minorities (which is not to say that there aren't numerous Caucasians in attendance). Rainbow flags are also visible.

And of course, the march is flanked by the Protectorate, Wards, and New Wave. You fly among the ranks of Protectorate members, though you carefully avoid being in the more prominent position - after all, it will soon be up to Armsmaster, Miss Militia and the others to maintain peace in this town, as it was before you arrived. This march, however, helps send through the message that Brockton Bay has truly turned a new leaf.

Meanwhile, the news (or to the very least the Internet) seem to be blowing your anti-storm activities out of proportion. To listen to people talk, one would think you'd stopped the typhoon of the century from destroying Eastern Asia. Not that anyone seems too eager to go against that narrative. This sort of popularity has its use… but it can also become a problem. It's something you've had to watch out for back home, and Earth-Bet will likely be no different.

In the evening, you take the time to give Weaver a call. She assures you that things are going well so far - her new teammates have given her a friendly welcome, and she is slated to start participating in patrols next week (well, the Boston Wards version thereof - the city is less of a warzone than Brockton Bay has been in the past years). Training exercises have been going well.

She does, however, admit to a concern after some prodding. "I originally intended to be a hero in the Bay, too. You know how that turned out. And the thing is, I'm still not sure at which point exactly I went wrong." She pauses. "I always thought my intentions were good, but I ended up doing the wrong things anyway. How am I supposed to be one of the good guys, to stay one of the good guys, if I can screw up so easily trying to do the right thing?"

"The morally perfect human being has yet to be born," you reply. "You are going to screw up at some point. So is everyone else. As a proverb I'm rather fond of goes: Fall seven times and get up eight. However, if you're looking for more specific advice on how to do the right thing…

"Firstly, I would suggest to keep in mind that it is always easier to hurt and destroy than to help and build. Choosing to cautiously err on the side of doing no harm will not always be the right decision… but it is often a good idea when in doubt.

"Secondly, remember that you are not alone. Your problems as Skitter could not be solved until you took a chance on speaking to other heroes about them. Other people will have a different perspective, a different way of thinking about the problem. Opening up to them will help in almost every case… and by the same token, you will often provide a valuable opinion to others.

"Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, is the matter of admitting one's mistakes. In all my years, I have seen, too many times to count, people who committed a morally questionable act, and then committed far worse deeds to hide their error, especially from themselves. That you can admit you were wrong, Weaver, already puts you ahead of a depressing number of people.

"Lastly…" You pause. "I hope you will be spared the most difficult moral dilemmas in the future, but it is worth saying nonetheless: Like Miss Militia said, sometimes, doing the right thing hurts. All too often, that's when it is most important to do it anyway."

She pauses. "...Do you think I should have turned in the Undersiders, helped the Protectorate arrest them?"

"After the emotional bond you formed with them? Do you think you could have done it?"

"...No. I tried, and couldn't."

"If you couldn't do it, then it doesn't have much meaning to say that you should have. A heroin addict would be better off never touching a needle again, but that's not necessarily within their ability. What our hypothetical addict should do, then, is check themselves into rehab. Which, in this convoluted metaphor, means for you to be doing… pretty much exactly what you've been doing since Leviathan." You give a good-natured chuckle. "And in case that wasn't clear, I'm proud of what you've been doing. You're a good person at your core, Weaver. Mistakes and all."

The day after that, following your liberation of Gray Boy victims (184 locations left), the time comes for your next meeting with the Guild - this time, the organization's full roster.

The twenty-three heroes before you (well, twenty-two, plus Dragon's teleoperated suit) hail from ten different countries. The organization has gone up against Endbringers, the Slaughterhouse Nine, the Gesellschaft, and numerous separate A-class threats.

"There was some debating," says Narwhal, "but in the end, no-one has voted against. You're welcome to join the Guild as provisional member… provided you accept certain agreements."

She hands you over some papers. "When you joined the PRT as provisional member, you probably recall that they included a non-disclosure clause about certain secrets. The Guild's contracts include a similar clause - there are things we don't wish known, such as the exact powers of some of our members."

Some reading and a signature later, you are given the need-to-know:

"Silver Crusader," Narwhal points at the New York Protectorate member, "is known to the public as a Tinker-4 specializing in personal equipment - essentially, able to create portable devices more efficient than mundane ones, or replicating effects that would normally require several tons of hardware. From his official files, you might think he was a poor man's Armsmaster, albeit one who joined the program at a young enough age to serve in the Wards."

"Hence the name," says the hero with the chuckle. "It sounded all cool and justice-y at the time. Some History classes later, I was a bit less keen on calling myself 'Crusader', but by then it had stuck and PR won't let go."

"What the public doesn't know," Narwhal goes on, "is that Silver Crusader is one of the Protectorate's best secret weapons - and to an extent, the Guild's. He's not just a Tinker, but also a fairly powerful Thinker."

"It's precognition," the New York hero explains. "I call it my trail of crumbs. When I'm trying to find something, attain an objective, locate someone, foil a plan, whatever… my power gives me hunches, directs me toward a time and place. If I go there, and pay attention, I find either what I need, or a clue to guide me in its direction." He chuckles. "Whether I'm smart enough to figure it out when I get there is hit-or-miss, admittedly."

"He's being modest," says Dragon, "but he and his power have probably done more to protect New York than even Legend. Frankly, he deserves most of the credit for stopping the Fear Syndicate, even if the PRT prefers to keep him in the shadows for strategic purpose."

You've read about that. The infamous Week of Fear was one of the biggest (barring Endbringers) supervillain crisis to hit Earth-Bet's America in the previous decade. The Fear Syndicate used to be a particularly ruthless supervillain gang, run efficiently and unpredictably by a Tinker named Titan. Titan was rumored to be specialized in cybernetic enhancements (his own body, certainly, was enhanced with large amounts of hardware), but more dangerous than his tech was his ability to lead other superpowered lunatics combined with the sheer extremes he was willing to go to. During the Week of Fear, as the press came to call it, the Syndicate attempted multiple terror strikes in rapid succession - poisoning the water main, sabotaging a nuclear reactor, assassinating the president, destroying a packed stadium, leading an assault on Fort Meade… all of which turned out to be a series of distractions and misdirections for the Syndicate's true plan of placing a tinkertech WMD in orbit. The fact that the Protectorate was able to stop all those strikes, foil Fear's plot, disassemble the organization and send Titan to the Birdcage is considered by some people (on PHO at least) to be the Protectorate's greatest display of competence. If there was a heroic precog involved… well, that helps explain how they could pull it off without a single misstep.

"Surdoué's powers," Narwhal goes on, pointing at the French superhero, "are a frequent matter of debate. Everyone knows he's a Thinker, but there are dozens of guesses about what he can really do."

"The truth," Surdoué says with a grin, "is that my power lets me be the smartest man in the room. Any room. As long as I'm less than 41 meters away from someone, I have all their skills, all their cognitive strengths. It doesn't extend to parahuman powers, so I can't copy Tinker and Thinker abilities… but right now, I've got reflexes at least as quick as Laser Fist's, I know how to lead at least as well as Narwhal, I'm as perceptive as Silver Crusader, and I'm getting some hella social skills from you. It's handy stuff… as long as I'm either fighting or teaming up with competent people."

Narwhal goes on. "Celo," she points at the Argentinian superheroine, "is known as a low-to-mid-range Alexandria package. Now, that was a year before you showed up, but the Argentinian government-"

"That's a laugh," Celo says bitterly.

"Sorry, the criminal megacartel that's taken over the Argentinian government, has publicly released information claiming that she also has a Trump ability, which makes her immune to the direct effects of parahuman powers."

"Well, some people believed it, some doubt it, but I might as well say it: It's true, and having it publicly known has not been helpful. Used to be, if I attacked a villain with the power to turn people into stone, he'd try it on me, I'd make a show of dodging to keep my advantage secret, then brain him. Now, he's more likely to get his goons to shoot me with Stinger missiles. Trying to be a hero in South America is dangerous work as it is." She pauses. "For the record, I need to focus to do it, but I can turn that immunity off for a moment. It's how Strider can get me to places like this."

Eventually, the reveals end. At that point, the future needs to be discussed.

"So you want to join the Guild, and you believe now is the right time to take it in a bold new direction," says Narwhal. "We've discussed it among ourselves. It does seem like a good time for an agent of change, especially if we have a window of opportunity before new Endbringers show up to unleash more chaos. With that said, we need to consider the best approach."

"I've talked to some very smart people about it," says Surdoué. "Now, obviously, the hyper-photogenic powerhouse who killed two Endbringers will be the spearhead of any Guild 2.0 movement… But your goal, and I agree with it, is for it to be a movement that inspires heroes, rather than just one guy being the shiny smiter of evil. As such, it will be for the best if you don't join the Guild on your own, but rather, are one of multiple heroes publicly joining at once. Ideally, I think we want more than five new members beside yourself, but probably not more than eleven - increasing the roster by more than 50% at once will wreak havoc on our ability to function for a while."

"If we're adding new members," says Dragon, "then it's best if most of them come from outside Protectorate territory - some people think of the Guild as a branch of the Protectorate, which is probably a perception we want to move away from if we want to improve international operations."

"However, there are other things to consider," says Narwhal. "Do we want to recruit Ice Queen? She's an A-lister who's participated in Endbringer battles, but she's not exactly a people person; we're not sure how well she'd work in a team, if we actually managed to convince her to join in the first place. Do we want to recruit Sonic Boom? Her popularity would do wonders for our PR, but it mostly stems from charisma and image management; her actual crime-fighting is not particularly impressive for someone with her abilities. Do we want Doctor Volt? Fantastic hero, but politically opinionated and loud about it. Unstoppable? Powerful, brave, extremely popular in his home country, but also an outspoken nationalist feared by his country's neighbors. And so on."

"In other words," you respond, "we need to carefully consider who we recruit. I am familiar enough with this sort of dilemma." You've voted many times on the recruitment of new members into the Global Champions - a decision that had to be made carefully, considering the sort of threats the Champions faced.

"And then, there is another matter," says Surdoué. "From a 'change mindsets across the world' perspective, we need to hammer the iron while it's hot - in this context, meaning that the announcement of the Guild's new recruitment wave should be followed quickly by taking on one of the major threats out there. Meaning that we need to pick one."

Dragon activates a holographic display, projecting images of potential targets. "We've already rejected Sleeper, Nilbog, and the Slaughterhouse Nine - the former two would require careful planning, while the latter have in the past shown an uncanny ability to evade attempts to track them down, even with the support of large Thinker tanks; our best guess at this point is that Jack Slash has an extremely powerful Thinker power of his own, or can call upon someone who does. As for Asura, we'll need to establish some greater credibility first - catching her would be dependent on obtaining first the collaboration of the Indian Thanda. That still leaves a number of options, though:

"The Three Blasphemies. Some have called them a poor man's Endbringer. I have been able to track them via satellite on occasion, and they're certainly destructive enough, and frightening enough, to warrant our attention."

The Three Blasphemies. You've read about them. A trio of villainous bio-Tinkers from Europe who joined forces in an attempt to understand and master parahuman powers. It is believed that they started experimenting on the corona pollentia, and figured out how to acquire other capes' powers by grafting pieces of their brains to their own. While there seems to be a limit to how many powers they can have at once, they have managed to become one of the most dangerous threats in Europe.

"Ash Beast. Obviously easy to locate, but, assuming we capture him alive, raises the question of what to do with him. Arguably a low-priority target - his random wandering has been taking him deeper into the desert, and the last time he forced a community to relocate was Baris in 2009."

Ash Beast. Very little is known about that parahuman, except that they are surrounded by a constant, powerful explosion. Most people can't survive getting anywhere near them, most of those who can survive can't get close because of the constant pushback of the explosion, and even those who are somehow able to approach are effectively blind and unable to locate Ash Beast within the inferno. As such, the A-class threat has been wandering Egypt for years, with people simply getting out of their path.

"Skylance. Her Mover power makes her tricky to capture, Additionally, she has many capes in her organization, and has been playing on nationalism and other frustrated emotions well enough to have a large contingent of non-powered supporters. Nevertheless, most of Japan, and certainly its government, would love to see her gone."

Skylance triggered in Kyushu's wake with a portal-creation power, and has shown a creative streak at turning those portals into deadly weapons. With what was left of Japan collapsing from the after-effects of the disaster, she proceeded to practically take over the refugee camps, presenting herself as a Robin Hood-type defending the survivors when the government failed them, and feeding conspiracy theories about how Kyushu's destruction was a foreign plot, thus taking advantage of radical nationalist movements. You've seen enough demagogues over the millennia to be almost certain the whole thing is little more than a cynical ploy of hers - Skylance is using this rhetoric to gather an army of followers, hoping to one day be more powerful than Japan's legitimate government.

"Madame Lustucru. She and her team have effectively taken over Kolwezi and the surrounding area, making it one of the few enclaves in Congo not taken over by the Triple Alliance…"

"That's intentional," Météore frowns. "By letting that psychopath keep her own territory, and making sure the media get a good look at her bloodbaths, the Triple Alliance can tell people that they're the only protection they have against that sort of evil."

"Nevertheless, Madame Lustucru is a monster," Dragon continues. "I would compare her and her crew to a sedentary version of the Slaughterhouse Nine, though that might be slightly hyperbolic. Removing her would save a lot of lives in the short term… but her territory would quickly be snatched by the warlords of the Triple Alliance. An acceptable loss in my opinion - they may be tyrants, but that is preferable to someone who kills for fun - but still a factor that ought to be considered."

You've heard of Madame Lustucru - a hydrokinesist with no Manton limit, able to move the water in the human body in a number of horrifying ways. She has taken over a large city in what's left of the former Democratic Republic of the Congo, with various capes following her - generally, those with little enough compassion that they can stomach her sadism and utter disregard for human life.

"The Gesellschaft. They're a vast organization spread across much of Europe, so a single decapitating strike is not an option. Nevertheless, between your abilities and some of our own," she glances at Silver Crusader, "we may be able to strike a blow against them if we work together with local authorities."

The Gesellschaft. A federation of European white supremacists, with dozens upon dozens of capes, and child organizations like E88 in several other countries. It rose to prominence with the "Blood Night" of 1996 - the heavily-mediatized executions of over a dozen of Middle-Eastern, Maghrebian, African, Jewish, and gay "supervillains" (most had fit that title - some had been truly reviled - but a handful were vigilantes). The Blood Night also involved three highly popular and respected superheroes (from the UK, France, and Germany respectively) publicly declaring their affiliation with the organization, to everyone's shock. In more recent years, it has emerged that the Gesellschaft is led by Rhetor, a German Thinker whose suspected power is knowing the ideal choice of words and arguments with which to persuade whoever he's talking to.

"Lastly, the Four Ghosts of Santiago." Dragon displays an image of the four supervillains. "Three years ago, these four have taken over the city of Santiago de Cuba. All of the Cuban government's attempts to dislodge them have failed, and they have been ruling the town through fear, executing anyone who resists. Now, even after the fall of the Castro regime, relations between the United States and Cuba have never really normalized; taking out the largest thorn in the side of the Cuban government should go some way toward establishing that the Guild is not a mere tool of Washington, and help improve international relations."

"If early attempts go well, then we can go after any of these targets in due time," says Narwhal. "For now, though, we need to pick the first one, and plan accordingly."

When it comes to selecting new recruits for the Guild, you make your recommendations based on the following criteria:

Useful powers: Do you recommend sticking to the particularly powerful parahumans?

[ ] Powers as Top Priority. The Guild needs to be able to take on the worst of the worst, and it can't be entirely dependent on your own might for this.

[ ] Powers as Medium Priority. The Guild could use some A-listers, but it has room for heroes with less impressive abilities.

[ ] Powers as Low Priority. The Guild has enough power as is. You're more interested in making it a symbol.

Team Cohesion: Do you recommend sticking to heroes who will fit right in?

[ ] Team Cohesion as Top Priority. An added superhero only reinforces the team if they can actually work with the team.

[ ] Team Cohesion as Medium Priority. Even a few heroes who aren't the best at working with others will learn quickly.

[ ] Team Cohesion as Low Priority. There are several heroes out there who are worth bringing over, even if they suck at teamwork. Where better for them to learn?

PR: Do you recommend picking heroes whom the public already loves or will find easy to love?

[ ] PR as Top Priority. If you want the Guild to change the world, then it's not enough to just punch the right people - you need to inspire the world to change, and to do that, you're going to need heroes that the world will pay attention to.

[ ] PR as Medium Priority. With yourself on the team, maintaining good PR shouldn't be too daunting a challenge as long as the rest of the team makes a reasonably good impression.

[ ] PR as Low Priority. You can take the unliked, the politically controversial, the walking PR disasters. Let people judge the Guild on its results.

Nobility: Do you focus on heroes with strong moral principles?

[ ] Nobility as Top Priority. You can't build on rotten foundations. If this Guild is going to inspire anyone, or gather significant power, then it needs to be a bastion of virtue, the best of humanity.

[ ] Nobility as Medium Priority. You don't want corrupt assholes on the team, sure, but other than that, as long as one is willing to fight the good fight, they belong here.

[ ] Nobility as Low Priority. You can let in some of the shadier antiheroes - with the likes of Dragon, Narwhal and yourself on the team, you believe they can be kept in line.

[Note that picking high priority for everything will mean that the Avatar recommends being very picky about recruitment, which means a smaller number of new recruits.]

That's for recruitment. There is also, however, the matter of picking the Guild's next priority target. You recommend going after:

[ ] The Three Blasphemies: They are some of the most feared and iconic villains out there. Defeating them once and for all will be a clear sign of change, and let Europe breath a sigh of relief.

[ ] Ash Beast: The easiest to track down. In, out, problem solved. Do you even need assistance with this?

[ ] Skylance: Leviathan is dead. It is time to clean up his legacy. Besides, Skylance should not be allowed to capitalize on the same type of hateful rhetoric that E88 has been using.

[ ] Madame Lustucru: The real monsters need to be stopped, and fast. This is one more way of telling the villains of the world that some lines can no longer be crossed.

[ ] The Gesellschaft: There's only so much you can do against them in the short term… but they do need to go down, and you might as well start there.

[ ] The Four Ghosts of Santiago: You can free countless thousands of people from these warlords and improve the state of international diplomacy in one go. What more could you ask for?

[ ] Write-in.

Last edited: Jun 19, 2016

142

sun tzu

Mar 12, 2016

View discussion

Threadmarks Perspectives: Earth-Bet

View content

sun tzu

Jun 6, 2016

#33

PERSPECTIVES: EARTH-BET

A few days earlier:

Brian Clay was, all things considered, a fairly typical news anchor. A professional who went in there every day, put on a suit, read from his script, and told people what was going on while maintaining a neutral tone.

He was finding it harder than usual this time. Granted, given how often things like the Endbringers or Slaughterhouse Nine made the news, it was often a challenge to keep the feeling of horror from seeping in. Several years into the job, he thought he'd gotten used to it. But this… this was different.

"...when the Simurgh appeared above Brockton Bay," he recited word-for-word from his teleprompter. "Experts are discussing this break in regular Endbringer patterns, as two successive attacks have never struck the same location, and are normally separated by several months. After appearing above the city, the Endbringer teleported herself and the Avatar to another dimension, where PRT Thinkers were able to monitor their battle in real-time…"

He had reported several Simurgh attacks in the past. Each time, the dead heroes, the quarantined cities, the inevitable yet unpredictable fallout months down the line…

"T-The Avatar was able to defeat the Simurgh," his lips trembled slightly. "The Simurgh was destroyed in the confrontation, after which the Avatar returned to Brockton Bay."

And then the dam broke. He began tearing up on live TV. "She's GONE!" he half-cried, half-shouted, as his voice broke and his vision went blurry. "She's really gone, ladies and gentlemen! It's all over! Oh thank God, it's finally over!"

Today:

Naguib moved. It could not be called walking - in truth, he was not entirely sure whether he had legs anymore, or any genuine physical anatomy. It was hard to tell. He certainly could not see any part of his body, no more than he could see where he was going. There was nothing for him to see save the unending stream of fire.

When it had started, he had thought at first that he had died and gone to Hell. He had quickly rejected that possibility - despite being surrounded in fire, he did not feel any pain. Years later - years of never seeing or hearing anything but the constant explosion, years without any human interaction whatsoever - he was seriously reconsidering that position. Perhaps Hell was not eternal pain; maybe Hell was just a total lack of other people.

There had been a time, briefly, early on, when it had felt like someone was moving closer. Not quite reaching him - not with the constant explosion pushing everything away - but getting close enough for him to be aware of their presence. Had that been real, or just an impression? Some time ago (A year? Two? Three? Ten?), the terrain had felt different; he could almost swear that he had been walking across a mountain, even as the explosions carved a path through it.

In truth, there simply wasn't anything to do but move. That, and think, but he had run out of thinking material after a while. He could only ponder for so long what had happened to him (Death and damnation? An insanely unlucky parahuman power? An awful coma dream?). So, he moved. And moved. And moved.

"Hello?"

He moved. And moved. And mo-

Huh. That voice in his head had not sounded like his thoughts usually did.

"Hello? Can you sense this?"

Strange. Very strange. On a lark, he thought "back" at the voice: "Hello."

"Greetings. I'm afraid we have not been introduced?"

He froze. Another voice! How could he hear it…? No, he didn't think he had heard it with his ears (his possibly nonexistent ears). It had felt more like a thought. Was he going insane? Was some parahuman talking to his mind? Was an angel speaking to him in Hell? "I… I am Naguib. Naguib Salmawy. Who are you?"

"I imagine you probably haven't heard of me, but I am known as the Avatar. I am a superhero."

"You mean… a parahuman? You're talking to me with parahuman powers?"

"With telepathy. It's somewhat difficult to communicate with someone who's completely surrounded by explosions."

At that, Naguib broke down crying. It actually took him by surprise, but talking to someone for the first time in so long had a bigger emotional effect than he had expected. The Avatar, since that was what he called himself, transmitted thoughts of support until he recovered his wits.

"How… How long has it been?"

"Seven years, two months, four days. There were attempts to do something for a while, but… none were successful. The best that could be done was just to get out of the explosions' way."

Oh God. He'd… He'd wondered, at times, if the explosions that seemed not to hurt him at all were causing harm to anyone else, but, with no way to see anything, he had stopped thinking about it. "Just… just how much damage have I caused?"

"Most of the damage happened during the first two weeks, when you were still in Cairo. After that, your wandering took you much further South. You don't move quickly, so people have plenty of time to get out of the way - buildings get destroyed, but they are usually empty by the time the danger reaches them. However," even mentally, the voice sounded utterly firm, "You have not caused any damage. Whatever forced this upon you is responsible. You've had no way of turning the explosions off. The worst you can be accused of is not standing still… and, with no way of seeing what's actually happening, how many people can you imagine standing still for seven years? You are one of the victims here, Mister Salmawy."

That did help him calm down a bit. "So… What happens now? Is there any way of… of curing me?"

"I promise to look into it. For now, I'm afraid the best I could do would be to stop the explosions for a few precious seconds - I'm not even sure the flames would clear up fast enough for you to see anything. What I can do - what I will do - is the following:

"Firstly, I am going to move you to a different dimension. A different Earth, where there is no-one who could be hurt by the explosions. You will not have to be concerned about that anymore.

"Secondly… I may be a very busy person, but I promise that, every now and then, so long as this does not prevent my other duties, I will find the time to come and talk to you."

And Naguib cried.

He paced through his room. It was something he had to avoid in public; him appearing nervous tended to make everyone else nervous. But when he had his privacy and had to do some thinking, he preferred to be pacing. There was actually something liberating about it, considering all the years where his legs had not been up to the task.

There was a knock on the door. "Come in." And in stepped Rebecca.

"David."

He nodded. "Is everything ready?"

"As far as I can tell. The training exercise should begin in twenty minutes."

Training exercise. Well, that was the official excuse Rebecca had come up with. The version everyone outside of Cauldron got was that, with new Endbringers expected to arrive at some point in the future, the Protectorate was going to be holding mock battles and try to prepare for any eventuality; since no-one could predict the powers of the next Endbringers, it would fall upon him to play their role, with some backing from other capes. Using his variable powers to simulate the most unfair, overpowered enemies he could.

The actual reason was a different story. For all that he was the world's most potent parahuman (not the most powerful person, clearly, but the most potent parahuman at least), he had been aware for years that his powers were weakening. He had noticed that these days, he seemed stronger, closer to his original power level, during Endbringer battles. He had assumed that it was the presence of worthy opponents that allowed him to draw upon some deeper well.

Tattletale… Tattletale had disagreed with his theory. According to the young Thinker, it was not the presence of the Endbringers that empowered him, but the proximity of so many capes showing up to battle them. She had further theorized that his power was meant to recharge by drawing upon the energy reserves of other capes. She had only expressed 70% confidence in her conclusions, but… if it was true… if he was able to recharge during the mock battle…

"I would still feel more comfortable using villains for this," he stated. "What if this takes away their powers? I should be testing this in the Birdcage."

"The former is an acceptable risk," Rebecca waved his concern off; "your powers are more useful than those of any ten other participants. The latter is not; I do not want you getting anywhere near Glaistig Uaine."

He sighed. "Then I at least hope this works. I have at most played a secondary role against Leviathan, I wasn't even involved with the Simurgh…" He gazed away. "I'm supposed to be the greatest hope we have. But the more he actually accomplishes, the more I feel that I have been failing everyone. Like I should have stopped all of this, the Endbringers, everything, as early as the nineties."

"We all thought they were unbeatable," she said. "And don't minimize how much help you were against Leviathan. Besides, we still aren't certain of how trustworthy the Avatar actually is. We still need more aces up our sleeves… and between you, Flechette, Tattletale, and the new vials, we may be closing in on the silver bullets we need to save humanity."

He nodded. "What about your other projects? The seventh Traveler?"

"It's in motion. He is useful to the Yangban, but not useful enough to justify the problems they could have if their human trafficking was revealed. They are willing to trade him in exchange for two of our minor villains who won't be missed… after they make a deal with the Thanda to erase all his memories of his ever having been to China. Near as I can tell, the main difficulty was for Contessa to get them to think of it as their own idea."

Doctor Volt carefully moved his "electron multi-tool" - a device that, in his mind, he often compared to a certain fictional "sonic screwdriver". The device, through extremely precise and detailed manipulation of electrostatic fields at the microscopic level, had proven a huge time-saver for his tinkering. At the moment, he had to move it with the utmost caution as he made certain upgrades to his armor; yesterday's battle had given him a new idea for the electromagnetic shield, but the fragile circuitry needed all his concentration.

As such, three hours of work almost went down the drain when he was surprised by an unexpected voice in the sanctity of his lab. To his credit, he recovered his wits quickly, and the mysterious speaker was quickly identified.

"Avatar." He crossed his arms. "To what do I owe the honor?"

"A possibility that I wished to discuss," said the voice. "How would you rather handle this? Voice only? Visual? I can do both. It is also no problem at all for me to show up and talk to you face-to-face."

The Brazilian Tinker looked around his workshop. Not a secret location, exactly, but still an official one. "Visual is fine with me."

And lo, the image of the Avatar appeared. Doctor Volt realized that he had subconsciously straightened his own posture. He'd seen the man in person before, back during the Leviathan battle - the final Leviathan battle. The Avatar was not just the only cape to ever kill an Endbringer, he had killed two. He had also captured Wyld Hunter, which was another big mark in his favor. He was also affiliated with the Protectorate, which did not earn him the Tinker's sympathy… but, objectively speaking, the Protectorate was the organization best equipped for directing superheroes on the global stage, so he grudgingly accepted that there were actual good reasons for the "Endbreaker" to join them.

"Thank you for your time, Doctor Volt. While I'm at it, I wish to thank you for your assistance against Leviathan."

"Just doing my duty, though my personal contribution was fairly minor in the grand scheme of things." Even so, the sheer sincerity radiating from the Avatar made his gratitude sound like far more than just social niceties. "So… What's this about?"

"It's about giving Earth-Bet its future back, Doctor Volt. About restoring the precious balance of civilization." The Avatar gestured, and a holographic image of the planet appeared. "Over the past three decades, criminals and warlords have been gradually taking over cities, nations even. Rule of law, human rights, the various protections afforded by civilization… these are slowly slipping away, and only half the fault lies with the Endbringers." Different locations on the globe took different shades of red, symbolizing how badly-off different countries where. He recognized his own Brazil as being somewhere in the middle of the road. "Now, no matter how bad the situation, there are always those who try to help. It is my belief, however, that they will not succeed unless they work together, to a far greater degree than they are now. The Guild," he paused, "can, in the short run at least, serve as a symbol of such cooperation. To that end, it is currently on a recruitment drive, trying to add several of the world's greatest heroes to its ranks… and take down several of the world's greatest malefactors."

Doctor Volt considered. "I take it, then, that you've said yes, yourself."

The Avatar nodded. "I did. But if it's just me, then it's one hero committing to being more active on the international scene. If it's me, and you, and Centro, and Sunblade, and Doctor Metal, and more… then it's a movement. It's the heroes joining forces to reclaim Earth-Bet."

"Hm. Two thirds of the Guild's current membership are members of the Protectorate."

"I am a member of the Protectorate myself, at least provisionally. Is that a problem?"

He paused to weigh his words. "I don't know how things are on Earth-Gimmel, but on Earth-Bet… Between Endbringers, the global societal collapse, and parahuman warlords, there simply aren't that many functional governments left. Most of the First World was spared the worst of it. And why wouldn't they have been? They had the resources, the institutions, to mitigate the damage. This continent has not been so fortunate. Chile, as a country, is gone, replaced with a set of adjacent supervillain fiefdoms masquerading as military dictatorships. Colombia is one giant drug factory. The less said about Peru, the better. As for my country?" He chuckled bitterly. "My colleagues and I do not defend Brazil. We defend the city of Brasilia, because it is only the part of our country that our actual government still controls in more than name! The rest of it has been taken over by a gallery of superpowered criminals, some of whom allow our government to maintain an illusion of law and order; many do not bother with even that."

He was now pacing angrily around his workshop. He went on: "And how could it have been otherwise? Bad enough that Sao Paulo was Behemoth's second target, that he turned Buenos Aires into a radioactive crater. The simple fact was, South America was somewhat shortchanged when it came to venerable democratic institutions, or in traditions of rule of law… in large part because Washington kept knocking them down! Do you realize how many coups, how many dictators, how many crimes were enabled by their hands? How many torturers and rebel-hunters were trained at the School of the Americas? How many deaths, how much suffering, all in the name of advancing Washington's interests, especially during the Cold War?!

"And if that had not been bad enough, consider: One of my relatives is a scientist. A number of years ago, he was invited to a conference in New York. Do you know why he ended up declining? Because he realized that, on his white collar academic's salary, he couldn't afford First World hotel prices. You see… A given amount of dollars, or francs, or pound sterlings, will buy a lot more in a Third World country than in a wealthy one. A simple reality of economics. Now, consider that millions of North-American junkies are throwing all their money at our criminal cartels, and have been doing so for decades. The result? Our gangs are better funded than our governments. That they would take over, under such circumstances, was… inevitable.

"Can you see now, with all that said, why I am… a little miffed?"

"Of course," said the Avatar. "And I am in no way asking you to stop being offended. Injustices were committed; if this did not drive us to anger, how could anyone ever expect justice?" He then smiled. "When Leviathan attacked Brockton Bay, you did not abandon its people to their fate because of your anger. You came, you worked with Protectorate capes, and you did what you could to protect the innocent. You acted like a true hero. I believe that joining the Guild will provide you with more such opportunities to save lives, to save the world. And to be frank, while my overall opinion of the Protectorate may be a positive one, I do not wish for the Guild to be a mere extension of it. That is one of the reasons why I am in favor of recruiting heroes such as yourself, who come from outside of its jurisdiction."

In the end, of course, the outcome was not in doubt. Even if it hadn't been the Endbreaker himself making that request, Doctor Volt suspected he would have welcomed the opportunity - if there was a chance for the world to finally change for the better, then he had every intention of contributing to it.

"Director Piggot. Please, take a seat," said mayor Christner.

The heavyset, somewhat intimidating woman sat down before him. "Thank you for your time," he said. "Considering how quickly events are evolving lately…"

"I understand," she cut him off. "I also understand that the bulk of 'Endbringer reconstruction funds' are going into rebuilding the harbor. What I'd like to know is how much is going into law enforcement."

"Well, about ten million are going to the BBPD. Enough for them to modernize their equipment, hire ten-twenty new cops, pay for additional training, and still have enough left to pay everyone on the force a helpful bonus - you know a lot of police corruption stems from how little they're actually paid." She nodded, and he went on. "Aside from that, five million are going to the rehab center. Considering your recent triumphs against the Empire and Merchants, we figure a lot of addicts will be undergoing withdrawal over the coming weeks, simply due to lack of product. In the longer run," he allowed himself a slight grin, "I suspect that crime will remain at low levels simply due to economics. Between the harbor reconstruction and the millions we're investing in infrastructure renovation, we're providing at least several months of work for a fifth of the city's unemployed. Past that, it's practically guaranteed now that someone will buy what's left of Medhall, and several businesses are making arrangements to open branches in town, which are projected to create at least four hundred jobs over the next two quarters, and probably closer to a thousand!"

And then, of course, there were the improvements to transportation and education. For years now, the dockworkers' union had been lobbying for the restoration of the ferry services. Now, the federal government was doing them one better - they were actually greenlighting the construction of a bridge. More specifically, a bridge meant as a proof of concept for using omni-metal and carbosteel in construction. And then, there was the money going to Winslow High; last time he'd talked to the principal, she'd planned for significant renovations, two extra janitors, three security guards, and five additional teachers.

However, he could tell that director Piggot was getting impatient. "...Of course, this will only help us so much unless parahuman villains can be contained. As such, I wanted to hear your thoughts about the future. I understand that the Avatar will not remain in town for very much longer. What happens then?"

She briefly closed her eyes. "With the ABB, E88, Merchants and Coil all imprisoned or run out of town, all the major troublemakers are gone. Even the Undersiders have lost their heaviest hitter, leaving only Faultline's Crew. According to Forecast, the odds of the Empire returning to Brockton Bay over the next five years are below 12%, and below 7% for the next year. However, it is extremely likely that other gangs will want to carve themselves a slice of the pie - between the expected economic upturn, the elimination of the competition, and the Avatar's departure, many will see the city as the perfect target."

He frowned. Not just because of the future risk presented, but because of his niece's involvement. Forecast, or rather, Dinah… He was eternally grateful to the Avatar for rescuing her, and more than a little furious that Coil was free and on the run. More than that, he was concerned. Parahumans led risky lives, as he had discovered since, well… On some level, he would have prefered to keep Dinah's powers a secret from everyone. But Coil had discovered them before even her family had. Perhaps the Wards were the safest place for her.

Director Piggot went on: "To be honest, Forecast's presence, on its own, is a game-changer. While most of her daily predictions will be taken up by the PRT's Thinker tanks, that will still leave on average three questions per day for the Protectorate ENE. As such, we will not be taken with our guard down.

"Furthermore, the additions of Kilogram and Tsunami, as well as the continued strengthening of Dauntless, mean that our forces here are stronger than ever. If we remain vigilant and maintain a good working relationship with New Wave, we stand good odds of preventing any major villain group from becoming as entrenched in the city as the previous ones were."

"I hope you're right, director." He steepled his fingers. "I hope you're right."

Patrols were over for the evening. Thank God. Krakow just seemed to be getting worse every month. Ever since… ever since Warsaw… the whole country had been falling apart.

And yet, she was feeling renewed hope. People were still celebrating the death of the Simurgh. Niszczyciel - Niszczyciel, of all people - had deliberately turned himself in days after hearing the big post-Leviathan speech. Perhaps… perhaps in the long run, the world would be fine. Maybe there really were heroes out there who could handle the big problems like Endbringers, Blasphemies, and Gesellschaft. And until they did, people like her would have to keep holding on and putting out fires, both literal and metaphorical.

"Captain Hydro. May we speak?"

She was briefly startled. Then she realized who exactly was talking to her, and she was greatly startled.

"A-A-Avatar…?"

"Myself. I apologize for the surprise. Is this a bad time? We may discuss at a later date…"

"N-no no no! It's just fine! But… What is the matter?"

And he explained. About international cooperation. About reclaiming the world. About the Guild. About wanting her in it.

On some level, she had trouble believing the entire conversation was really happening. That the Avatar - the avenging angel who had brought low the Simurgh - was bothering to speak to her.

She thought back to the winged Endbringer's attack on her native Warsaw, four years earlier. Her entire team dying, unable to make any difference whatsoever against that monstrosity. The whole city, quarantined, along with most of their government. Two months later, the hidden goal revealed: A team of misguided capes, through daring and programmed luck, successfully wiping out all the records and backups of the main banks and credit card companies in the country. The immediate financial collapse. Only the emergency aid from Germany had kept the famine's death toll relatively low… and its costs, in turn, had infuriated German nationalists, further feeding Gesellschaft.

With one short attack, the Simurgh had destroyed her homeland. She had been entirely helpless to do anything against her. This man had killed her.

"...You don't need me," she managed to say. "I'm just a glorified firefighter." There was no point in hiding her original profession; her trigger event had been fairly public.

"There's no 'just' nor 'glorified' about it, Captain Hydro," the Avatar replied. "You were dedicating your life to protecting others even before you received your powers. Stepping into Hell, finding someone, and coming back with them… you were always a superhero. As for your powers, I have seen your hydrokinesis. It is nothing to scoff at." He smiled. "Perhaps you are thinking that your powers seem weak compared to some of the Guild's heavy hitters. I think you undersell yourself. The Guild has, and will, face many situations where someone like you can make a big difference. Additionally, you have a proven track record of working well with others. I believe you will do just fine there."

She paused. "You can just call me 'Hydro'. The fire department gave me an honorary captain rank after I triggered, but… it's just for show." The name had sounded cool for the first few minutes; these days it just felt ridiculous.

He paused. "Permission to speak freely?"

It seemed utterly incongruous that he would be asking her that, but she nodded, and he spoke: "In my opinion, captain, you have more than earned the right to be called whatever you want. Within reason of course."

It was late, she was tired, and it was generally a bad idea to make major life decisions without taking a day to think them through. As such, she requested to speak of it again the next day.

But she already knew, deep down, what her answer was going to be. Someone had to put out the fires.

Working as a cape therapist, doctor Jessica Yamada had seen it all. Saints and sinners. Capes who were mentally and emotionally stable, and others who were damaged on a deep level.

Her newest patient definitely fell under the "damaged" umbrella. But, while a single therapy session was not enough to speak conclusively, she was getting the impression that most (all?) of the damage had come before the trigger event.

"So far, everyone's nice, but I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop," said the young Miss Hebert from her couch. "I think having the Avatar around on my first day here helped, but even so, I think Warp doesn't trust me. I think Weld is keeping at least some of them in line, making sure they play nice."

Seeing as she was also counseling some of the girl's new teammates, Jessica had some insight into their feelings on the matter. While Miss Hebert wasn't entirely wrong, she was vastly exaggerating negative feelings toward her. Silently, she jotted another notch next to "trust issues" in her notes.

"What makes it worse is that I can't blame them for not trusting me," Taylor went on. "Some of the things I did as Skitter, I thought they made sense at the time, but in hindsight they were really screwed up. It actually scares me a little, how quickly I became a villain." She paused. "When I first got my powers, I figured of course I was going to be a hero. But if all it took to turn me into a criminal was a few people my age making me feel included, then maybe I'm just a crappy person."

"I wouldn't say that," said Doctor Yamada. "Loneliness and the desire for companionship are some of the strongest drives known to mankind. Besides, didn't you choose to turn away from villainy of your own initiative?"

"I didn't have a choice. Coil was holding that girl as his drugged slave. It was our fault. Our responsibility."

"See, I think that's a double-standard," she said, crossing another notch next to "self-loathing". "You're willing to blame yourself for the bank and the fundraiser, yet you deny having had a choice about saving Dinah Alcott. You could have let it go. You could have gone along with the Undersiders and allowed Coil to keep doing what he was doing."

"That… That would have been wrong." The girl's tone made her tame choice of words sound incongruous; she was clearly horrified by the idea.

"You decided that was wrong. You decided that doing the right thing and saving that girl was more important than staying in the good graces of your teammates and employer. If you're going to accept responsibility for the bad you've done, then shouldn't you also accept responsibility for the good?"

Taylor digested that for a moment. "It seems somewhat perverse to try to take credit for asking someone else to fix a problem I caused, especially when that problem is a twelve-year-old getting drugged and enslaved. It's like wanting to be praised for clearing the lowest possible bar for ethics."

"Maybe so. But that decision cost you. You were placed in a situation where doing the right thing was very difficult, but you did it anyway. You couldn't ignore the suffering of the Alcott girl. You say you're worried about being a bad person, and honestly, I suspect that's a concern everyone should struggle with once in a while. But it seems to me that your compassion, at least, is a strength."

Taylor laughed bitterly. "You know, I'm not even sure I would have done it, if not…" She trailed off.

"If not for what?"

"If not for the Avatar giving a big Hollywood speech right after killing Leviathan about doing the right thing and reaching for the spark of heroism inside that made me cry like a five-year-old! That's what tipped me over. It's not like it was even addressed to me, specifically.

"But then he started helping me. With the Undersiders. With the PRT. With my dad. With the Boston Wards. And always, always being so… so supportive. Like he really believed I was a hero. No, like he believed I was a fantastic hero. And every time he does, I can't help thinking… maybe he actually has a clue what he's talking about. And if he actually believes I can be that, that good… then I can't stand the idea of disappointing him."

Her voice broke a little. "I want to be as great as he thinks I am. And when I think back to what he's told me… for a while, I believe I can be."

Jessica kept silently taking notes. More than the Avatar's evident charisma, she suspected he was having such a strong emotional impact on her patient due to the tragic dearth of sympathetic authority figures in her life - the only one on her side in recent years would have been her father, who seemed to have grown somewhat distant following his wife's death.

"We only have a few minutes left, Taylor, but I look forward to seeing you again next week. Is there anything else you want to talk about while we have the time?"

The teenage girl considered. "You know, the PRT asked me to try to figure out more PR-friendly ways to use my powers. I thought that was silly at first, but I get it. Heroes don't just have to protect people, they have to inspire them, make them less afraid." She paused. "I can think of a few tricks, but… I'm not sure I can inspire anyone. Not when I'm such a mess myself."

"In my experience, sometimes people can be inspiring because their lives are a mess. If you are going through terrible hardships, then words of encouragement might mean more coming from someone who's been where you are."

"I guess." Taylor got contemplative. "...Do you know if Wards get involved in any anti-bullying campaigns?"

"As a matter of fact, that can happen. You would-"

They were interrupted by Taylor's PRT communicator activating. Jessica Yamada frowned. Whatever it was, they had waited until the exact minute their therapy session was officially supposed to be finished. Just how urgent a business was it, exactly?

Layabaddh (or "Harmonic" when addressing an English-speaking audience) considered herself a fortunate person. It wasn't something to brag about - she just thought it was important to acknowledge to herself how lucky she was, and never take the good things for granted.

She had been born to a loving family, growing up comfortably in the Mumbai middle class. In this day and age, you couldn't take that for granted - not when the economy was a perpetual wreck, and violence in the streets at an ever-climbing high. Growing up, she had seen too many of her friends and classmates losing someone to the violence.

She had been blessed with a melodious singing voice, and had had both the inclination and luxury to develop her gift. And even as good as she was, she still credited luck for having successfully broken into the singing biz - well, luck, and a very persistent agent.

Many of her friends had told her that her agent was ripping her off with the slice of her profits he was charging. She disagreed - without his perseverance, she doubted her career would have gotten off the ground in the first place. Besides, she was already making more money than she felt comfortable keeping. If she was giving half the proceeds to charity anyway, she could afford to pay her agent a small fortune.

In truth, when her numbers had started declining, her agent had seemed more distraught than she had been. He seemed to work himself to the bone trying to keep her star shining bright. She'd tried to get him to relax a little, find a hobby… She was surprised when he apparently took her advice and started teaching himself to make cocktails. He'd had her taste one once; it had been terrible. Seeing as her powers had manifested the same day, she sometimes joked that this was the source of her powers. He hated that joke.

He loved her powers, though, and so did she. This incredible control over her voice… she could use it as a weapon with sonic blasts, sure, but she could also use it for her shows. She had soon become a popular Garama, and even joined a government-affiliated team of superheroes.

In truth, her duties as a State-sponsored heroes didn't revolve around fighting. Mostly, her job was boosting morale. Giving people hope. Championing good causes, from blood drives to support for Hyderabad refugees. Telling the men, women and children of India not to give in to fear. Encouraging the powered and unpowered alike to remain on the right side of the law. Near as she could tell, she was good at it.

Which was not to say she didn't get into any real fights. She had, on many occasions… and she was still alive and well. Again, lucky. Especially that fight last year with Ankylo. It had been lucky that, despite their injuries, her teammates had survived long enough to get medical care. Lucky that her power, by somehow finding Ankylo's resonant frequency, had managed to get past the villain's exceptional resilience (and she was still fairly confident sound was not supposed to work like that). Lucky, finally, that her sonic attack hadn't outright killed Ankylo; vicious murderer or not, she would have hated to end his life.

And at the moment, she was having the honor of meeting the Avatar in person. Yet another thing to be thankful for.

"...and that, in conclusion, is why I believe the two of you could accomplish much good in the Guild," the Avatar concluded his stirring speech.

She glanced at the other parahuman. Another Garama hero, albeit not one she was familiar with. From her understanding, a military cape stationed at Chennai. Handsome, in a costume that was clearly a fancier version of an army uniform, armed with an assault rifle. He had identified himself as "Multi-Hit", a speedster who could imbue his projectiles (bullets included) with extra speed.

It seemed a bit odd for a military cape to be a Garama. Garama capes were the showy side of India's parahumans - colorful costumes, flashy attitudes, embracing the spotlight. Thanda capes, in contrast, operated in the shadows, ruthlessly. Between the Kashmir occupation, the Hyderabad refugee camps, and the Naxalite Front, she imagined a military cape would have been pressured to serve as a Thanda.

The military cape spoke. "I'm… very flattered by your request, but also somewhat confused by it. Why come to us? I mean, no offense," he glanced at her apologetically, "but while our powers are pretty decent, they're not in the upper percentile. There's at least a hundred heroes in this country who could be more useful."

"Power is not the only factor we've considered," said the Avatar in perfect Hindi with a Delhi accent. "Both of you have demonstrated that you work well within a team, and that you are compassionate, principled people. Harmonic's track record is a shining example of positive, constructive attitude, and as for you… you have participated in two Endbringer battles. There is also the matter of your actions in Kashmir."

Multi-Hit chuckled grimly. "That's supposed to be a secret, but my superiors aren't as good at suppressing information as they like to think they are. That cell phone video is still floating around on the Net, isn't it."

"It speaks favorably of your character. Our goal is not merely to fight the enemies of the world; it is to provide inspiration, role models, and hope."

"Well, I would be very honored," said Harmonic with a smile. "Now, we both work for the government, so you'll need to talk to some people, but… I don't think they'll refuse."

"To the guy who avenged Hyderabad?" said Multi-Hit. "It'd be political suicide."

The Avatar offered Multi-Hit a ride back to Chennai, but he politely turned him down - which she was grateful for, as she appreciated the opportunity to get to know her future teammate better. Despite an undercurrent of bitterness, Multi-Hit was pleasant conversation.

"I'll confess, I'm curious about what he meant about Kashmir," she said, "but if it's a sensitive topic, then forget I asked."

"A little, but…" he shrugged. "If we're going to be working with the Guild, odds are you'll find out anyway." He looked around. "The short of it is, I used to be stationed in Kashmir. Infantry. I… refused… some illegal orders." He paused. "Well, arguably illegal. Definitely contrary to military ethics." He sighed. "It didn't go well. If I hadn't triggered, I'd probably be in a military prison. But I did trigger, so the son of a bitch who gave the orders got investigated and demoted instead." He sighed.

She gave him her best comforting smile. "I think the Avatar - the Guild - was right to choose you."

"Look, before this gets anywhere, I… I don't want there to be any misunderstanding. This isn't ideological. I just have nowhere else to turn to for help."

Reactor. Dutch Tinker, considered about average in terms of power. A hero, and very, very clearly uncomfortable to even be there, having this conversation.

"I understand," said Rhetor, leader of the Gesellschaft. "Family is sacred. If it was any of my brothers or sisters getting their entire life wrecked by one stupid mistake… Well, I'd slap them till they saw stars, but I'd still do anything I could to get them out of their mess."

The villain gave a conciliatory smile. "Now, my friend, I understand that you have no interest in joining my people. I can respect that. I will not help you for free, but I will not ask you to compromise your principles for me either."

Reactor blinked, somewhat surprised. That was not quite what he had expected to hear, coming to this meeting. "...You won't?"

"God, no," said Rhetor, eyebrows raised. "Why would I want to? Anyone who was willing to compromise their principles to join me would be just as willing to compromise my principles once they were with me. I have no use for people who don't stay true to what they believe is right." He paused for a moment, letting the hero digest his words. "I will want your help, yes, but not weapons. Not tools of war. Just things that you can work on with a clear conscience." With his hands cupped on the table and his good-natured smile, he looked more like a fatherly boss than the leader of an international parahuman organization. "I happen to travel a lot by private jet, and I've had it upgraded with tinkertech over the years. I'm sure you could make a few improvements of your own, and it is not as if I use it in battle."

"That… sounds reasonable," Reactor conceded, clearly relieved that he was not being asked to do anything reprehensible. "If you can help my brother…"

"Consider it done. Although… There is another thing that I'd be remiss not to at least suggest." He paused again. "I assume you've done your research before a meeting like this, so you already know that 90% of Gesellschaft's activity is basically fighting crime - busting drug dealers, taking down gangs, that sort of things."

"...Er, aren't most of the criminals you fight racial minorities?"

"About 80% of them, yes. But that is the same percentage as those arrested by the police, simply because, either due to economic conditions or other reasons, 80% of violent criminals happen to be racial minorities." He shrugged. "The truth, Reactor, is that we simply don't have the numbers needed to make a real dent in crime. Don't get me wrong, we try to work with the official authorities, but it rarely works out. Because we're 'villains', the police will look the other way while Zicaron murders my people, or while we're fighting Argent and his thugs openly in the streets. Sometimes, judges will even let dealers, murderers and rapists go just because it was us who captured them, which in their eyes is all it takes to make it suspect.

"But you… you are a hero. If I were to give you tips about where to find certain criminals - not capes, just common criminals - then you could arrest them, and I wouldn't have to worry about the justice system letting them go because it was 'villains' doing the arrest. Gun-runners, crack peddlers, gangsters, people we both agree need to be behind bars. Does that sound interesting? I'm not asking you to commit to anything, I'm just asking if you will want to know when my men have discovered a situation that needs a hero, so that you may investigate if it warrants your attention."

Reactor gave it a moment's thought. "I… I suppose, sure."

After that, there was only a little bit of negotiating to be done, and Reactor was much more relaxed than he had been coming in. The Gesellschaft would keep his little brother from going to jail, and keep in touch by phone. Eventually, the hero left.

"I suppose he wasn't ripe for recruitment yet, hm?"

Rhetor turned around to smile at the young girl. "Not yet, Aperçu. His timid left-of-center sensibilities still tell him that it would be wrong to side with the big bad neo-Nazis. It was necessary to put him at ease."

She snorted. "Right. But those 'tips' you said you'd give him… I think I can guess what sort of tips you have in mind."

"Ah, yes. It becomes hard to hold on to humanistic ideals while busting a pedophile ring run by mud people, to name but one example. After enough time spent busting the scummiest lowlifes the Netherlands have to offer, Reactor will find that he is far less defensive of the 'lesser races'," he said, making finger quotes. "Especially since, now that I've told him 80% of violent criminals are racial minorities, he'll start noticing whenever he arrests a non-white, and confirmation bias will set in."

"And once he becomes receptive to the ideology, then he becomes so much easier to control," Aperçu grinned. "I was almost embarrassed, hearing that 80% line. Or the one about 90% of your activities. Like Gesellschaft isn't a huge criminal syndicate itself. I swear, does he just think numbers and statistics can't be made up?"

"On a subconscious level, a lot of people assume numbers can't be made up," Rhetor explained. "And I did tell him right before that I'd assumed he had done his research before coming to see me. Frankly, I have no idea if he has, but just saying it convinced him I wasn't going to try to lie to his face. Same thing with that whole spiel about why I wouldn't want a recruit who compromised their morals: It doesn't really make sense, but it's the sort of fortune cookie nugget of pseudo-logic that sounds like wisdom to anyone who isn't much of a deep thinker. It told him that I wasn't trying to subvert him to my cause, and once that defense was down, everything was a lot easier."

"So your power just told you he was vulnerable to made-up numbers and faux philosophy."

"My power gives me an intuition of the right thing to say, even if it doesn't tell me why it's the right thing," he shrugged with a smile. "It told me to give him that whole 'family is sacred' bit at the start, so our Tinker is probably the sort of man who cares deeply about family and considers family loyalty the mark of a trustworthy person. It told me how long to pause, how to smile, how to adjust my body language. The intuition of how to tailor my sales pitch perfectly."

"All those things are common sense salesmanship," Aperçu noted.

"Oh, they are," he agreed. "I've studied rhetoric. I have some actual, non-powered experience in swaying people with words. I have learned that there are hundreds of little tricks to make people listen and believe… but unless you know someone well, it can be impossible to tell in advance which of those tricks will work on them, which will have no effect, and which will come across as rank, obvious attempts at manipulation.

"What my power gives me, above all else, is that it removes the need for guesswork. I automatically, intuitively know which arguments to make, and how to make them. I never say the wrong thing. I am never easy to ignore. Sounding rational, appealing to raw emotion, using my audience's sense of right and wrong… Whatever works best with any one person at any given moment, I can pull it off." The power's only weakness was, it only worked on one person at a time. When addressing crowds, he had to pick one person in the audience, and hope that a speech tailor-made to sway them would also sway their comrades.

"And that's how you can convince a bunch of people from all over Europe to be racist together despite the way a lot of them are racist toward each other's countries," she quipped. "And that makes the minions so much easier to control, doesn't it?"

"Indeed. Bigotry tends to make one profoundly gullible and malleable," he said, giving her a knowing grin.

Because his power told him to. Aperçu's glimpses into the future were useful, but unpredictable; her lack of control over her own precognition made it a very situational advantage, which made her somewhat insecure at times. The best way to manipulate her was by appealing to her sense of intellectual superiority. So, he let her think that the ideological aspect of the Gesellschaft was a sham, designed to control the rank-and-file. That there was an inner circle who understood it was only about power, money, and not letting any laws control them… and that of course, being a brilliant Thinker, she was a member of that inner circle. Describing to her in detail how his power let him influence everyone else, instead of making her paranoid about talking to him, made her smugly confident that he wasn't pulling her strings - after all, you couldn't be manipulated when you understood how manipulation worked, right?

Aperçu might not be a neo-Nazi. But she had served Gesellschaft's goals well, and would continue to do so. In the end, that was more than enough.

His phone beeped. "Ah," he said, glancing at it, "looks like Kaiser's little guest is ready to talk."

"I'm not sure supporting Kaiser's little wargames is all that smart," said Aperçu. "The Empire capes might be more useful if you just brought them over to Europe."

"Most of the Empire's capes are second-rate brawlers, with a handful of stand-outs like Purity and Hookwolf. Othala is useful, and Kaiser's a decent leader, but even so, the advantage of bringing that whole team over wouldn't be worth the extra attention. Besides, retreating from a city is viewed as a sign of weakness; retreating from a continent is an even bigger one, and if we brought them on board, we would be considered the ones retreating. Instead, by saving the Empire, we are securing Gesellschaft's strong image."

There was some irony, Rhetor admitted at least to himself, in the fact that their organization, which profited from and fanned the flames of ultra-nationalistic sentiments, also derived so much strength from being one of the few truly international cape organizations. Oh, the Protectorate counted both the United States and Canada, and was in the middle of the gigantic mistake of adding Mexico… but, generally speaking, internationalism was dead.

He still remembered the old days of the European Economic Community, and the "European Union" that all the bleeding hearts wanted to create. There had even been big plans for the European Brigade, an international superhero team to rival the Protectorate.

Of course, none of it had ever come to pass. The Simurgh's destruction of Switzerland had seen to that. It wasn't just the loss of an entire country - it had also been the damage to the banking system. The Endbringer, in addition to effectively removing Swiss banks from the system in one fell swoop, had also ensured that sensitive information about secret bank accounts would spread - information that, he mused, had destroyed the careers of several prominent internationalist politicians. That a brainwashed cape had later gone on to murder the Serbian prime minister and start the never-ending Balkan Wars had just been the cherry on top.

And Europe hadn't even had time to catch its breath when the Simurgh had struck again, this time at London. The entire British capital city, cut off, while the bulk of its parliament had been in session. They swore up and down that the royal family had been evacuated too quickly to be affected by the Endbringer's scream, but he had his doubts. The turmoils that had followed, the Scottish secession attempt, the bloody repression that had followed, the rise of Lord Walston… These days, Britain was halfway to fascism itself, and wanted absolutely nothing to do with the rest of the continent.

After that, the plans for the European Brigade were… if not dead, then a joke. It still existed, but the number of capes in it barely broke into the double digits; European heroes stuck to national teams, such as the King's Men, Les Irréductible, Die Deutscheritters, Legione Difesa, and so on. In fact… it often seemed to Rhetor that the Simurgh delighted in destroying attempts to build large alliances of "heroes". He'd oft wondered if she had some plan to shatter the Protectorate.

And then the Avatar had gone and rendered the question purely academical. Funny how quickly the world could change. Well. Gesellschaft would ride that wave of change and come out stronger.

And then, he was standing before the viewscreen. On the other end of the teleconference was the man Kaiser's team had captured mere hours earlier.

Accord, high-end Thinker and the mastermind who controlled half of Boston's underworld.

Empire 88 had needed to find itself a new homebase. Boston had been the obvious choice, but the Empire was operating at reduced capacity. A well-oiled, well-planned blitz had been necessary. And that was where the Gesellschaft came in. Not in direct combat support, no - that had to be the Empire itself - but in other forms of support. Namely, the support of multiple Gesellschaft Thinkers who had offered vital intelligence for planning and executing the assault, and of Bemyndiga, their best Trump, who had boosted the Empire's capes right before the battle and was already on his way back to Sweden. ...A tinkertech-enhanced private jet wasn't much use in a fight, but it was handy for stealthily ferrying capes from country to country, after all.

The operation had unfolded beautifully. In mere hours, the Empire had struck crippling blows at every significant villain and mercenary group in Boston. Nothing that outright broke the unwritten rules. No unnecessary deaths. Enough, however, to establish them as a new power block within the city. Enough to force everyone else to the negotiating table.

Kaiser was a shrewd negotiator in his own right. Most of what came next, he would handle himself. But Accord… Rhetor had made it a point that talking to Accord would be left to him.

So, he sat down, maintaining a perfectly neutral expression and a perfectly symmetric posture, as he addressed the American villain. "Accord. I apologize that our manner of meeting is disrupting your schedule, but our respective organizations simply lack the communication channels needed to coordinate such matters."

The Boston Thinker glared at him. "Rather extreme euphemisms for assault and kidnapping, Rhetor. What are you and Kaiser doing to my city?" Even imprisoned, without any of his minions, not raising his voice at any moment, the man practically dripped menace.

"This is damage control," he stated, maintaining an even tone. "Empire 88's operations recently suffered severe disruptions, as you well know. The Avatar's recent actions have caused some highly unprofitable chaos. We seek to mitigate it by providing the Empire with a stable base in Boston."

"And in the process, you are disrupting my operations."

"All change requires a brief period of disorder, even when it leads to greater order in the end. You know this as well as I do, Accord; you have had many a troublemaker executed, and it is hardly a clean and orderly process. What matters is not the chaos inherent in the short-lived process itself, but the end result. It is true that your organization and city are suffering from temporary disruption, and for that I apologize. However, it is my hope that we may negotiate an arrangement by which, by the end of the week, Boston will be more orderly than it was yesterday."

"Explain yourself."

"Certainly. Your organization, while the largest of its category in Boston, was not the Empire's only target. Surgical strikes were also performed successfully against Blasto, the Argonauts, Neon's Crew and the Portside Watchers. All of them have caused you varying degrees of trouble over the years. I believe that both the negotiations that are to follow, and a mutually profitable understanding between us, could play a significant role in bringing these factions to heel.

"It is true, yes, that the Empire will require its share of the city for its operations. However, I believe both your side and mine can benefit from collaboration. You could include the Empire in your plans for the city; Kaiser is an intelligent man who values order, and he will listen. Rather than be at each other's throats, we may coexist in symbiosis: you may provide us with the efficient organization that only you are capable of, and the Empire will provide additional strength to enforce your plans."

Accord considered. "There are a lot of ways such an arrangement could fail to produce satisfactory results. Frictions between my organization and the Empire could easily ruin what you propose. Kaiser and his cohorts could get too greedy, or merely too rowdy. Additionally, they have become targets of increased attention from the Protectorate and the Avatar, which I do not wish to see extended to myself."

"Certainly," said Rhetor. "This is why I insisted on negotiating with you myself. I figure it is for the best if we work out all the relevant details now, rather than risk structural faults dooming what arrangement we make to a slow deterioration. Few things are more conductive to peace and order than a well-crafted contract. Furthermore, I believe that our mutual enlightened self-interest will keep us honest - the Empire and Gesellschaft could profit immensely from subcontracting certain plans to you, whereas our own Thinkers may at times provide you with crucial elements of data.

"As for your last concern, it has been considered before we had even decided on the move to Boston. While we may lack the PRT's media resources, we are not entirely helpless at swaying public opinion. At the moment, we are working to change the public message into one mocking the Protectorate - namely, their inability to take down Empire 88 without the Avatar's assistance. Precognitive assistance assures me that the Avatar will be kept busy with other affairs, and an organization as dependent on good PR as the Protectorate will not risk looking weak by sending the Avatar to do its job in Boston - all the more so now that the Avatar is expanding internationally, making it increasingly clear that he is not merely a Protectorate agent. As such, while we will no doubt face some Protectorate opposition, it will be closer to what both you and Kaiser are used to facing. Nothing that you cannot handle."

He certainly hoped so. He didn't want to think that last meeting with Koroleva had been for nothing.

"The Serpent has been struck down!" Abner shouted. "The Fallen Angel has been slain! Soon, the Beast will follow! Now that God has come down from Heaven, the Forces of Evil cannot stand before His holy wrath!"

With some satisfaction, he noted that the crowd was larger than yesterday. He could recognize several faces. Most people just listened for a minute or two out of curiosity, one or two would heckle… but some would stay and listen.

He held up his Bible. "We have been told about all of this two thousand years in advance! It told of the Whore of Babylon, the woman drunken with the blood of saints! Reminds you of anything? The Simurgh, who twisted the minds of good men! It told of the Beast from the Earth, who could make fire come down from heaven; it was warning us about Behemoth! It told of the Beast from the Sea, two thousand years before Leviathan showed up!

"We were warned long in advance of how terrible things were going to get! But we were also told not to lose hope, because salvation will come - and it has! Two thousand years ago, God came down to Earth in human form. He walked among us, making miracles and healing the sick, even coming back from death. We were told that there would be a Second Coming! That God would return, in person, to strike down evil and make Earth into the Kingdom of God! He is fulfilling that promise as I speak, tra-"

And then he stopped.

Because God had just landed twenty feet away.

The crowd gasped. Cell phones came out. Abner, himself, found that he was now at loss for words, stringing together a number of random-sounding syllables in his abortive attempts at constructing a sentence. Finally, he recovered enough of his wits to pronounce "My Lord!" and fall to his knees.

But, when his Lord spoke to him, it was with a voice tinged with sadness. "Please, rise. Do not bow to me."

He got up, still unsure what to say. "My… My Lord…"

"I am no lord. I do not rule over others. I seek to inspire, to make myself an example for others to follow, but I do not order you."

His white cape followed gracefully as He turned around, gazing at everyone in the crowd as He spoke: "I have been an active superhero for close to a century. I know all too well how, when faced with the darkness and uncertainty of the world, men and women feel the need to make sense of it all. Many times, I have seen well-intentioned souls trying to build a religion around me."

"And you don't want them to?" asked a young man in the crowd, sounding vaguely amused.

"No. There is a vast gulf between adoration and understanding. My hope is not to be admired, but emulated. I wish for humanity to be brave and kind and true, not for it to be at my beck and call. You - every single one of you," he gestured at them all, "have within you the capacity to be shining beacons of hope and nobility. I am driven by the hope for any of you to become the hero I know you can be - and that heroism can manifest in something as epic as fighting the Endbringers, or as mundane as raising a child with love and wisdom. Who or what you address prayers to, if any, is far less of a concern."

Abner gazed at the Avatar, still struggling to make sense of it all. "I… I just wanted to, to tell people… We are put on Earth to worship the Lord, and, I thought…"

The Avatar gently placed his hand on Abner's shoulder. "You mean well. You wish to do the right thing. That is good. But any being that demands worship is by definition unworthy of it. If you wish to help, then there are countless fellow men, women and children in need of your compassion."

And then the Avatar hugged him. He was surprised to find himself returning the hug.

"Thank you for taking the time to see me," said Narwhal. "I know how busy your duties keep you."

"Probably no more than yours," said Sunblade. Not that she was wrong, of course. As a parahuman member of the Self-Defense Forces, he had a busy life indeed.

In his youth, his grandparents had told him of how hurt the country had been by the war. None of that had compared to the aftermath of the Sundering, as the loss of Kyushu had come to be called. Millions dead. Millions more stuck in refugee camps. The national economy had been shattered; in short order, the second-wealthiest nation on Earth had turned into a Third World country. Broken lives, broken futures, broken hopes, a broken nation. People went hungry in the streets. Hungry. In Japan.

That had been 19 years ago. Normally, things should have picked up, but… they had not. It was hard to fix the national economy when the entire world's economy was crumbling, all the more so in a country that depended so much on maritime trade. Society found it difficult to deal with the disturbingly high percentage of parahumans who turned to violence and crime. The Yakuzas had grown bolder, treating the government's difficulties in coping with the situation as an excuse to step in and take control of more and more micro-crises, resolving every minor problem through bloody violence and coercion while putting themselves in a position of greater and greater influence. And of course, you had the endless parade of overpowered troublemakers making everything worse, from Skylance to Fuji-Sama to Kamikoe to Black Kaze. And that was before you factored in the problems caused by the Chinese Union Imperial. In short, it wasn't just that the Sundering had broken the country - it was that, after two decades, it still wasn't actually recovering.

"There's that," the Canadian cape smiled. "Now, I told your superiors what this is about. We want to expand the Guild. Add in more members. You, the Avatar, Doctor Volt, Iron Snake, and more. Get more dynamic about stamping down the active threats."

"The Guild already does that sort of thing," he pointed out. "You help out in Endbringer fights, you've done a lot to counter the Slaughterhouse Nine and Three Blasphemies, and it was the Guild that finally stopped Omerta."

"Yes, but it's hardly enough. There's simply not enough international cooperation. The Protectorate is the best we've got, and it struggles to operate outside of its two member countries. The Brigade is practically stillborn. The Cognoscenti are all dead. If the Guild can get capitalize on membership from five-six continents and take down multiple A-list villains across the world, then it's a proof of concept. Proof that heroes and countries working together across the board can get things done." She stared into his eyes. "You're a veteran with intensive training and combat experience, and some of the best tactical skills of any parahuman I know. Having you on the team could make a big difference."

"I'm not unsympathetic to your cause, Narwhal." Which was true enough. He wasn't sure he really bought the bit about international cooperation - countries didn't exactly fall over themselves to lend assistance, least of all today - but he had fought beside Narwhal against Leviathan five times, and he had nothing but respect for the fellow soldier. He certainly understood the desire to finally smack down some of the bigger villains - genuine victories were few and far between in his line of work, which felt less like "cleaning up the streets" than "maintaining the status quo so the streets don't overflow with blood". The idea of a Guild that could take down all the major troublemakers had its appeal, yes, but…

"However," he went on, "first, keep in mind that it's not just my decision. I answer to the JDF, and whether I can participate in this initiative is ultimately up to them. I'll remind you, for that matter, that I am not a Tinker; my equipment is made and maintained by teammates in the armed forces." His superhuman agility and reflexes were not exactly the most impressive of parahuman abilities. He knew that. However, combined with his prior spec ops training, they'd made him deadly effective - enough that he had warranted special equipment. The plasma blade, as well as the heatproof body armor that allowed him to actually use the blade without getting burned, had become part and parcel of his identity as a cape. "Moreover, my duties do keep me busy, simply because there's an endless supply of problems for me to tackle here in my country. I'm not sure how much time I can dedicate to helping solve other countries' problems." He paused. "Of course, if the Guild lends Japan assistance with some of our issue…"

"Like Skylance?" said Narwhal. "She's fairly high on our to-do list. So are the Three Blasphemies, Madame Lustucru… She won't be our first target, but we do intend to take her down."

He considered. The Avatar, Strider, Dragon, and another dozen or two competent parahumans joining in to take down Skylance? In fact, merely the threat of such a force coming down on the heads of villains who became too successful? It was tempting, yes. And it would more than make up for him having to leave the country on occasions - he was not so deluded as to think he was single-handedly keeping Japan from collapsing.

"I believe I see your point," he said. "Very well. I will support the idea, but it will ultimately be up to you to convince the JDF."

"I think I can manage," she grinned.

"To be frank, on some level I find this frustrating," said Jack Slash as he kicked Bonesaw. The child villainess flew a dozen feet through the air, hitting a wall and breaking it, falling on the other side; only the extensive upgrades she had made to her own biology over the years kept her alive. "You see, I have always taken a certain amount of pride in my ability to navigate the deadliest parts of the cape world despite having a fairly weak power. To trade up like this feels inelegant, somehow."

Bonesaw, badly hurt but still conscious, got up and shot a poisoned dart at him from her fingernail. He dodged it effortlessly - he'd always had a good intuition for when to dodge, and now, it was even clearer. "Well, you've still got your power, uncle Jack."

"I suppose I do," he said. Not that the ability to cut with knife regardless of distance was going to make that much of a difference. Granted, with his newly enhanced strength, he suspected it might be a good idea to look into a Tinker-made, unbreakable knife or two. "Besides, I suppose there's stylistic justification for making a big change for the final show."

"Final show?" Bonesaw rushed into melee, trying to stab and poison him even as he dodged effortlessly. "You don't think we can win?"

"Oh, we most assuredly can," he grinned. "But, win or lose, this will be our last real performance. Even if we do win and take down the Avatar, that will motivate the Protectorate to bring the whole of its forces down upon our heads, and there will be capes from all over the world pitching in. Killing two Endbringers tends to endear one to the masses, after all. At that point, our choices will be to go down fighting… or clear the board," he smirked as he exploded, reappearing fifty feet away, the explosion having knocked Bonesaw against another wall.

The young bio-Tinker tried to go for stealth now, silently moving among the debris, hoping to hide and catch him in an ambush. Not that she stood a chance; even with walls between them, he could clearly see her heart and arteries. With an amused chuckle, he explosively teleported again, appearing fifteen feet behind her, then swinging his knife in front of him, slicing her right foot despite her subdermal armor.

Bonesaw collapsed. Laying on her back, she gazed at him. "...You've gotten really good at this, uncle Jack."

"True. Not to the level where I can go toe-to-toe with a member of the Triumvirate, but still, this will give me more options."

He had little doubt this would be the greatest challenge ever faced by the Slaughterhouse Nine. It was a shame Gray Boy had died all those years ago; he would have been an asset. Jack Slash found himself contemplating the current team composition.

The Siberian. Invulnerable. Unstoppable. The striped, cannibalistic woman had been able to hurt even Alexandria; she might actually be able to kill the Avatar.

Mannequin. The stealthy Tinker, still one of the best assassins in the world, was another vital component of the plan. After all, it wasn't enough to kill the Avatar; they also needed to prevent him from returning to life.

Crawler. The massive villain, no longer even vaguely humanoid, mutated and grew more powerful with each attack he survived. Having the Siberian maul him within an inch of his life would make him more powerful than ever before.

Shatterbird. Her ability to control all sillicium-based materials (including glass and computer chips) across an entire city was going to get pushed to the limit this time around.

Burnscar. Her fire and teleportation were, admittedly, not that great an asset. But when you played chess, using the pawns could be as tricky and important as using the rooks or bishops.

Cherish. The girl's ability to control others' emotions was impressive, but less so than her ability to sense them, and remain aware of individual people even across a wide range. She was also a fool who believed she could manipulate the Slaughterhouse Nine. He was still working on how to best turn that delusion against her.

Hatchet Face was not one of the Nine any more - not since Cherish had taken care of him. His ability to turn off other capes' abilities probably wouldn't have worked on the Avatar… but what was left of him still had its uses.

And of course, there was their newest, ninth member. One whom Bonesaw had been very eager to work with.

Speaking of Bonesaw… she was looking up at him. "Uncle Jack? You got Butcher's powers, but what about the voices?"

"Oh, your operation worked great," he smiled. "I can't hear any of the previous Butchers. If I pay close attention, I can just barely sense their emotional state. They are… less than happy with the current arrangement, I believe."

With that, he stabbed Bonesaw in the throat. She gazed at him in surprise, then with a calmer realization of what he was doing.

After all, whoever killed Butcher, got the powers of every previous Butcher (and their voices in their head, too, though he had dodged that). And the man he had killed not so long ago had himself been the latest Butcher for less than a minute, but he still had a very, very handy ability.

And then, Jack Slash collapsed that timeline, leaving only the one where he had been observing Bonesaw as she worked on her latest sadistic work of art.

"By many people's account, you are one of the main reasons Indonesia hasn't fallen apart."

Iron Snake considered the faintly-glowing man before him. The Avatar. The Endstopper. The Stormbreaker. And, apparently, a new member of the Guild.

His expression grew wistful. "When I first got my powers… I was an idealistic kid who protested the Suharto regime, but I didn't want to use my powers for it. I didn't want a bloody coup or civil war." He gazed in the distance. "So, instead, I tried to be an effective, visible superhero. To do too much good, to be too popular for the government to touch me. When I spoke up against the military draft of parahumans, people listened. I figured, if me, my teammates, and like-minded heroes did more to protect the people than Suharto did, then maybe we could force his hand, democratize the country.

"Then Behemoth showed up, and the whole situation got turned upside-down. Half of Jakarta was dead, the other half had to evacuate because of the radiations. We were lucky that it was only the fourth Endbringer attack, back when there was still an active international community - without international aid, the fallout would have been so much worse."

"I understand the government was pretty much gone," said the Avatar, "but Red White helped the transition."

Red White. That had been the name of the large, multi-dozen-member hero team he'd helped spearhead at the time. Naming themselves after the colors of the national flag, they had played up an image of patriotism while staying visibly distinct from the regime. So many of them had died against Behemoth… but most had survived. And indeed, he could still remember the two highly intense years that had followed. Defending the Jakarta refugee camps, putting out a million different fires, supporting the new, (mostly) democratic government as it gradually formed and established its authority, taking down countless villains and would-be-warlords… But, by the end of it, while the country was diminished, traumatized, and struggling, it was still a country.

Of course, even after those two years, things had hardly been smooth sailing. Life just kept throwing an endless supply of villains at them. Iron snake and his teammates had fought many, and lost many. He had stopped counting dead friends at some point, but he had never stopped fighting. Even after his wife (and long-time teammate) had died, he had fought on, defeating the Surabaya Syndicate. Even as it sunk in just how badly villains outnumbered them on the national stage, he had fought on, killing Silent Echo and arresting her minions. Even as he turned forty and could no longer deny the starting decline in his health, he had fought on, rescuing the president from the General. Even as Plague's virus was killing thousands across East Java, he had fought on, cutting a swath through her teammates.

Indonesia was bloody, battered, an increasingly violent and deadly place where poverty and hopelessness were ever rising… but, it was true: Without him and many others like him, things would have have been far, far worse.

"Yes," he finally said. "We did. But most of the men and women involved are now gone." Shifter, killed by Behemoth at Ankara. His beloved Gunshot, caught in the fireball of a gang's exploding ammo depot. Divine Flame, tortured to death by Silent Echo. Blink, in some ways the most painful loss, turning his back on them all to join a villain gang; he suspected dealing with Plague had been what had finally broken him.

He caught himself woolgathering. "Ah, I'm not saying there are no great heroes among the younger generation. Molecule deserves every bit of praise she gets, and Cascade is both a good man and a powerful cape."

"I'll take your word for it," said the Avatar with a slight smile. "However, it is you whom the Guild wants in its ranks for now. Your worth has been proven a hundred times over. Your principles are irreproachable. Your combat prowess remains highly impressive. And, most importantly, even as your team composition evolved over the past two decades, you have always been noted as working well with others, both in and out of the battlefield."

And then, Iron Snake found himself pondering. What did he want?

As a child, he had wanted to be a great hero of justice. When parahumans had become more and more of an accepted reality, he had dreamed of being a superhero. When he had started learning pencak-silat and discovered he had a knack for it, he had dreamed of being a martial arts champion.

Then, that one competition. The injury. The doctor telling him he would need years of therapy to walk again, if ever. And then, triggering, with a pool of power that he could allocate at will between enhanced strength, super-speed, and regeneration. In hindsight, it had been truly fortunate that the doctor had been a family friend willing to falsify medical records, or keeping his identity secret from the regime would have been impossible.

When he had gotten his powers and helped found Red White, he had had new, updated dreams of being a great hero of justice, of a peaceful transition toward democracy and freedom. After Behemoth, he had dreamed of restoring the country, making it a place where his family could live in peace. After Gunshot had died, he had dreamed of making Indonesia safe for their daughter and the rest of her generation. After Divine Flame's death and Blink's betrayal, he had dreamed of keeping Indonesia from collapsing within his lifetime.

It seemed that his dreams were getting smaller with each tragedy. Going from wanting a shining, golden future, to at least wanting a decent one, to at least wanting it to not be a nightmare. It was one thing for men to become more cynical with age, perhaps, and while he wasn't old yet, he could no longer be called young… but, he could clearly see the diminished hope among the younger heroes too. Even champions like Molecule and Cascade were mostly hoping to keep the situation from deteriorating, rather than hoping to actually improve it.

But. Leviathan was dead.

The Simurgh was dead.

Kabul's Purifier and Namibia's Moord Nag were in prison.

And five days after Leviathan's death, Blink had turned himself in.

For the first time in what felt like forever, there was hope - not vaguely, not faintly, but everywhere - that the world might be better a decade from now than it was today. That today's children would be adults in a decent world.

So, if this new and improved Guild was the next step toward that hope… how could he possibly turn that chance down?

"Thank you again for your time."

"No thanks needed. It's my pleasure, Dragon."

Doctor Metal meant it, too. She generally considered herself one of the best Tinkers in Western Africa. Her power armors provided an excellent blend of protection, firepower, mobility, sensor coverage and versatility. She had gone up, solo, against entire teams of capes and won.

But Dragon? Dragon was often considered the world's greatest Tinker, and Doctor Metal did not begrudge her the title one bit. Not after seeing her in action. They'd collaborated on suit design a number of times, and while the Canadian Tinker had always treated her ideas with respect and gladly incorporated them when they were worth it, she still felt Dragon had made the lion's share of contributions on such occasions.

"You're too kind. How are things back in Harper?"

She swallowed back some bitterness. "Reasonably fine, I suppose. I'm still trying to organize the saner local capes, but you know how it is - there's always a majority of lunatics and assholes among parahumans. At least I managed to run Omen out of town."

Of course, there was no mention of the fact that she had little desire to be in Harper. She was a woman of the Ivory Coast. For all its flaws, she loved her country and always had. Her years in America, getting her engineering degree at the MIT, had been largely characterized by homesickness. When she had gotten back home, and was once more struck by the vast gulf in wealth and standards of living between her country and the First World, it had not made her want to leave again - it had made her want to improve her country's lot.

And why not? It was one of the most prosperous nations on the entire continent, and she was a brilliant engineer. She had set out to open her engineering firm in Abidjan, providing technology for infrastructure, for security, for industry, for a better future.

Perhaps she had not turned the whole country around, but she believed she had done some good. However… no matter how effective the technology she worked with was, it kept nagging her that there existed technology completely beyond her understanding. She had had the opportunity to observe and analyze tinkertech a number of times, and no matter how she turned it in her brain, she couldn't make heads or tails of it.

Her research into the subject had finally lead her to them. To the people who claimed they could sell power in a vial. She had been dubious, but… they had been persuasive. And she had the money. She had wanted Tinker powers. They warned her that, while they could obtain a vial with increased odds of Tinker abilities, it was always a gamble, and the odds were slightly worse than even. Luck was on her side, that time.

Becoming a Tinker had not really made the frustration go away. Even now, her understanding of Tinkertech was still painfully limited. So, she had gotten in touch with the Cognoscenti - a massive collaboration of Thinkers from central and Southern Africa. She had hoped that, with their insight, tinkertech could truly be reverse-engineered, and then eventually mass-produced. The idea of police forces bringing villains to heel with her power armor designs had been a tempting prospect.

Of course, the Cognoscenti had died to a Simurgh plot soon after, and their loss had sent shockwaves throughout the continent. Wars, instability, economic crashes. That instability only lead to the rise of more and more villains and warlords. It looked like her country needed engineers less than it needed heroes - and so, she had started going out there, in her best power armors, fighting villains in the streets.

It had quickly turned out that, even when you had an armor that could survive anti-materiel rifle shots, fighting superpowered criminals on your own was still very dangerous. So, she had joined the Troupe Ivoirienne, a government-sanctioned hero organization that worked closely with the police. Working with other capes was not always easy, but it was always worthwhile. For three years, she had worked with them, taking down Frelon, la Nonne Rouge and others. Neighboring countries might descend into warlordism and parahuman feudalism, but the Ivory Coast, never!

Yet for all her efforts, the country had not been doing well. Maritime trade had collapsed years ago. Land trade was dying, as various commercial partners were forced to turn inward. Villains made running business harder - her favorite restaurant had been permanently turned into a super-gravity zone by a villain seeking to extort protection money, and one of her business rivals had seen their headquarters destroyed by collateral damage when rival cape gangs fought each other.

The situation had been untenable. Something had to be done to save the economy. When the government had announced its plan to nationalize multiple industries, she had disagreed with the plan, but could see the reasoning behind it. When her own company had been among those nationalized, she had invented several dozen new swear words, but ultimately accepted it, and tried to at least ensure it would do good for the national infrastructure. When the government had nationalized the country's largest Internet service provider…

...That had been when fucking Essaim showed up. "Swarm". The crazy bitch who had somehow managed to create an entire cybernetic army with that crazy "smart gel" of hers. Who had hired a number of mercenary villains, and overthrown the government.

So, she and the rest of the Troupe Ivoirienne had shown back to fight the good fight. No dice. Swarm had been ready for them. With ambushes. With snipers. With heavy weaponry, well-organized capes, and that goddamn smart gel. With nerve gas. Doctor Metal had been fortunate to get out alive, carrying two poisoned teammates with her. Neither of them had survived.

She had tried to get help from the rest of the country. Again, Swarm seemed to be a step ahead. What all those years of conflict and villains had failed to achieve, Essaim had accomplished: Turning the Ivory Coast into yet another warlord's domain.

She had had to swallow her pride and flee the country. Not far. To the neighboring Liberia. To the town of Harper, close to the border. Liberia had, years before, broken down into a confederation of regions that were run either by warlords, or what was left of the local authorities. She had worked with local capes to try to make Harper one of the better places. Keep down the villains. Protect civilians from those who would prey on them. Help the people enforce the democratic consensus. She had thought it would be easy, considering that Harper's population was not one hundredth that of Abidjan, but it seemed that whenever she managed to drive some villains out, new challengers flocked in. People often thanked her for making the city a relative haven of safety… but it was relative indeed.

And through it all, she had desired nothing more than to liberate her homeland from the crazy bitch. Easier said than done. Swarm was a megalomaniac, but she was a smart megalomaniac. As for support from the international community, it couldn't be relied on - not just because everyone had their own problems, but because in the eyes of so much of the world, being taken over by a parahuman warlord was just something African countries did. She suspected most First Worlders couldn't tell the difference between the Ivory Coast and Mozambique. It was as if they thought the entire continent was just one homogenous whole, that could be regarded as a single country - never mind that the continent was big enough to contain all of North America and still have room left for China.

So, she had started showing up to Endbringer battles. She had considered it before, almost decided to attend, then ultimately decided that she was needed too badly back home. But… trying to stay home to fight local battles had failed. If more heroes had gone out to help fight the good fight in foreign lands, perhaps more of them could have counted on foreign assistance in return. Perhaps, if she helped others save their country, she might find some ears that were sympathetic to the plight of her own.

Her first fight against Behemoth had been a major kick in the perspective. Finding help for her homeland, important as it was, pretty much had to take a backseat to… to saving the world from those monsters. What was the point of saving the Ivory Coast, if the entire world burned around it? She had made it a point to attend every Endbringer battle since then. She had collaborated on some tinkertech projects with Dragon. She had entertained the notion of joining the Guild.

Well. Considering what Dragon had asked to meet her about… it looked like she was going to get her chance.

She smiled at her Canadian counterpart. "But, you didn't come here to talk about Harper. So, tell me more…"

Centro had been at the office when the call had come. Celo, one of her fellow Argentinian superheroines. She'd thought at first that this was about the business with the Cartel de las Sombras, but, no - this was Guild business. Guild business that the Avatar was involved in, and wanted to have words with her about.

Celo had assured her that there would be no need for a face-to-face meeting; the Avatar could simply contact her telepathically. That had not made her less uneasy, and she requested that Celo just put him on the phone, as soon as she had made damn certain she had some privacy.

"My apologies if I'm being difficult, but in this line of work, you just can't be too careful."

"I understand. With that said, it is a pleasure to speak to you. Celo and others have spoken highly of your work."

"Not too many others, I hope," she said with a humorless smile. "Celo said this was about Guild business?"

"Indeed. The Guild is currently on a recruitment drive. It has recruited additional Tinkers, Blasters, Movers, Brutes… and, quite frankly, it could use an additional Thinker."

"It sounds like you are among the new recruits."

"I am indeed. I believe that, if heroes are to reclaim Earth-Bet from villains and warlords, then we must work together across national barriers. I believe that governments for the people, of the people, must support each other, or be drowned in the tidal wave of parahuman feudalism… if the Endbringers don't get us all. I believe that a stronger, more international Guild can achieve a number of key victories across the globe, and show the way to the rest of the world. I believe that, if we are to have any hope of winning the good fight, we must join forces."

She paused. "I am not committing to anything as of yet, but just to be perfectly clear: If I were to throw my support behind the Guild… then it would be completely off-the-books. No official record. No acknowledgement before the media. As little acknowledgement as possible before anyone. My ability to do my job is very much dependent on secrecy."

"Believe me, I understand. I've lead a global superhero team during the Cold War. I know that some people require discretion."

"Hmph. Do you know what my power is?"

"I know that you are able to project your voice into the minds of others regardless of distance, and can transmit different messages to several people simultaneously, suggesting some multitasking ability. More importantly, on the occasions when you've participated in Endbringer battles, you've displayed some enhanced awareness of the battlefield, which suggests your true power is a Thinker ability of some sort. Its exact nature I can only speculate on, of course; Celo wouldn't tell me, and Guild members who have their own theories keep them to themselves. I am certainly not going to press the issue."

"Good. Fighting for justice in Argentina means fighting in the shadows."

That was no exaggeration. Argentina had actually been doing pretty well, when it had all started. The 1980s had seen democratization, an improving economy, and general hope for the future. The early parahumans had been an exciting curiosity; the most visible one in the country had been Cosecha, a plant-Tinker who had been working on genetically enhanced crops.

She had read many an analysis of parahuman history. She knew that some placed the end of the "Golden Age" in December 1992, when Behemoth had first struck. Others placed it in the "Three Years of Hell" - starting in November 1999 with the Sundering of Kyushu, continuing in September 2000 with the Siberian's murder of Hero, and concluding in December 2002 with the Simurgh's first appearance in Lausanne. (Of course, it was mostly the American public that placed Hero's death on the same level as the two most devastating Endbringer attacks in History… but, she supposed she understood the value of symbols, and Hero had been very symbolic.)

From Argentina's point of view, though, the so-called "Golden Age" had ended in the mid-90s. Part of it had been inevitable social conflict, like the ever-divisive question about the role of parahumans in the military. Part of it had been the contested 1995 elections, when the losing presidential candidate had accused the winner of relying on parahumans to rig the vote; to this day, she still wasn't certain if there had been any truth to it. The largest part, however, had been the rise of the criminal cartels. Drug money had been making them powerful before. In the late 80s and early 90s, they had struggled as the old guard clashed with parahuman villains. By the mid-90s, however, the villains were solidly in charge, and greedily grasping for ever more power. The police chief of Córdoba had been brainwashed by a villainous Master, which had only been discovered a full year after the fact. Cosecha had been abducted and forced to create more lucrative breeds of the coca plant for the drug cartels. Calculadora had defrauded over fifty thousand people of their life savings, then somehow managed to pressure the authorities into pardoning her.

More and more, the chief issue affecting the country had been the government's inability to face the villains. And so, the government made villains its priority. A major team of heroes was formed. Fundings and military support were offered. Parahuman consultants were hired, from within and from abroad. A few photogenic victories were won, such as the arrest of Calavera.

And then, in September 1997, Behemoth had showed up and destroyed most of Buenos Aires. The government was gone. The national hero team, in shambles. The country, ripe for the taking.

And taken it was. The crime cartels wasted no time whatsoever, sabotaging humanitarian efforts with one hand while funding their own with the other. To gain a measure of legitimacy, several of the larger cartels went to some of the surviving generals in the military, throwing support behind them, making it look like it was the army that was taking charge… but in truth, by that point, the soldiers' paychecks were being signed by the villains. By 2000, those who had been criminals years earlier were now the new government. Those who opposed them were declared outlaws on various charges.

She had been a rookie journalist at the time - had been in the media just long enough to see their freedom of speech get ripped apart, to see them turning into mouthpieces for the new regime. When the article she had written about Celo's heroic contributions had gotten squashed, she had come to the realization that there was no place in Argentina for a reporter to seek the truth anymore.

That was when she had started seeking ways to be more than just a journalist. To become someone who could fight the villains on their own turf.

Cauldron, in many ways, was the biggest mystery she had ever encountered. That she could not investigate them chafed, it truly did, but they had made it entirely clear that they would find out, and would crush her like an insect. Even now that she had powers, she still had to pick her battles carefully.

And her powers were certainly useful. She referred to it as "the list". Touching someone, however briefly - even just brushing against them - was all she needed to add someone to the list. The list was sadly finite, with only 27 spots on it; when she wanted to add another person, she needed to remove one of the 27 already in it, and needed to touch them again to add them at a later date.

As long as someone was on the list, however? True, she could speak to them from a distance without opening her mouth. But, far more importantly? She could see through their eyes. Hear through their ears. Distance was no limit. Multitasking was no limit. Right now, she was simultaneously watching from 28 perspectives. Among them were her boss at the newspaper, who had taken another bribe last week; Carlos, the former security guard who now worked as a minion for the villain Inaudito; Martin, the accountant for the Cartel de las Sombras; Viciosa, the villainous Shaker, whose civilian identity she had managed to discover and "bump" against last month; Represalias, the rookie would-be-heroine, whom she was observing to see if she was worth working with; and many, many more.

She had a mask - a full-body suit, even, to avoid leaving DNA evidence behind. She only used those when meeting face-to-face with some of the few heroes she considered safe to collaborate with. Most times, when she was doing superhero work, she was in her civilian identity, figuring out who was worth adding to her list, figuring out ways to approach and touch them however briefly, and then using the knowledge she had gained to bring villains down, almost always through proxy. Like last year, when she had discovered Bruma's weakness to electricity, and informed Celo. Or when she had arranged for the Córdoba Quatuor to learn how the Cartel de las Sombras was cheating them, causing a major falling-out between the two gangs.

When she had participated in Endbringer battles, she had usually tried to shake hands or something with a number of Movers while there was time, and then she worked in the command center - she could spot Leviathan or the Simurgh through their eyes, and assist in coordination like a second-rate Dragon. Much as she hated Behemoth, however, she had never participated in battles against him; her usefulness would have been more limited against a slow-moving foe who could be seen from almost any distance.

Of course, Leviathan and the Simurgh were dead now. Wyld Hunter was out of the picture. And if the Avatar had been willing to go up against Moord Nag and the Purifier… could she leverage Guild support against the Argentinian criminal regime?

The possibility, to the very least, seemed worth considering.

"With the Avatar, Doctor Volt, Captain Hydro, Harmonic, Multi-Hit, Sunblade, Iron Snake, Doctor Metal and Centro, the Guild's effectives rise from twenty-three to thirty-two. Naturally, the Avatar's presence also significantly raises the team's average power level, even if the median remains nearly unchanged," Number Man commented as they walked through the base.

Doctor Mother nodded in acknowledgement. "We will have to keep monitoring this situation closely. Contessa is optimistic, but the Avatar's ability to fool precognition means we cannot rely on her path to victory as much as with parahumans. Still, it plays in our favor that he is partial to capturing villains alive; I'd much rather have Moord Nag in the Birdcage than dead." After all, who knew which parahumans could prove vital on the day of the final battle?

"We may also want to consider where the Protectorate ought to place the Avatar following Brockton Bay. Even if he ends up spending most of his time working on international issues with the Guild, he is still presumably going to remain affiliated with a Protectorate branch in one city or another."

"Alexandria and Legend have been giving it thought," she said. They walked in silence for about twenty seconds. "Any noteworthy trends, meanwhile?"

"The situation surrounding Kabul is unsurprisingly tense," he replied, "though none of the neighboring warlords have committed to a course of action. Presumably, they fear that seizing the city might earn them the Avatar's ire. Some of the financial movements surrounding Starfall's assets suggests that he is hoping to offer the city material support in order to be accepted as its lord-protector; if the other warlords do not join forces against him, his plan will likely succeed. In that eventuality, Starfall will likely become the central potentate of the Afghanese regions, which would have 55% odds of raising stability.

"In Mexico, most of the cartels are gearing up for war, expecting the arrival of the Protectorate to be a major challenge to their operations. The exception is Lord Cognito's organization, which instead seems poised to pit its rivals and the Protectorate against each other.

"With the deaths of Leviathan and the Simurgh, investors are growing bolder. I expect this will be the first quarter that sees growth in the global GDP since 1999, though this could obviously change depending on how things develop with the Endbringers."

She was still going over the various implications in her mind when he switched topics: "Meanwhile, I will confess to some curiosity concerning recent vial production."

She took a moment to gather her thoughts. "Tattletale's insight into the process has been helpful. I've learned more from those three sessions than Manton and I were able to figure out in our entire first year of studying the Entity's remains. In particular, I now have a much better understanding of what will or will not create a Case 53. As such, with the more recent vials, I have significantly cut down on the proportion of Balance formula, increasing instead the power-granting components. Every vial made in this manner has produced parahuman abilities multiple standard deviations above the norm, including Lightspeed, Roster, Leonardo and Fezāton."

Indeed, all four of the recent Cauldron capes had developed impressive abilities. Lightspeed had developed enhanced durability and proportionate strength that placed her in the Brute 6-7 range, speed that allowed her to run at mach 1.4 and casually dodge any non-powered melee attack, and seemingly limitless stamina that let her use all of her speed and strength for hours on end with no sign of fatigue. Roster had gained an awareness of all parahuman powers within a two-mile radius, which told him both what they were and where they were located in real time. Leonardo was a Tinker of seemingly average power at first glance, but whose versatility quickly proved exceptional; he had the ability to choose his Tinker specialization, which he could change once every 24 hours. As for Fezāton, his ability was a bit of a grab-bag. He had omnidirectional, through-wall vision within a range of 180 yards. He had perfect aim with thrown objects. He could make objects he threw phase harmlessly through anything between them and their intended target. And he could increase their mass by three orders of magnitude until right after impact.

"That is encouraging," Number Man agreed, "though I'm curious about Lightspeed's selection. She doesn't fit our typical operating procedures. She didn't seek Cauldron out. She never tried to purchase powers. Slipping someone a vial without their knowledge is not unheard of, but it is rather different from our standard approach."

"Alexandria's idea," she supplied. "A target of opportunity, really. Lightspeed caught both her attention and some of Los Angeles's with her good samaritan act. She has already demonstrated a heroic personality along with the ability to think and act in do-or-die situations. Additionally, everyone, herself included, will simply assume that the fire was her trigger event. Besides, that woman made her career working for a suicide prevention hotline; the desire to save others is a central aspect of her personality. As I said, a target of opportunity."

Lightspeed was being assigned to the Los Angeles branch of the Protectorate, under Alexandria's watch. The others were more standard stories.

Roster had been an FBI investigator who had seen one too many case fall apart due to villains. In frustration, he had started looking for ways to gain power, not actually expecting to find anything… and had found one of the trails of crumbs Cauldron deliberately left for people like him. He had purchased a power-granting vial. And now, his Thinker ability made him an enormously valuable asset for the New York Protectorate, who were for now using him to secretly catalog the city's hundreds of villains (and learn a few surprising facts about the powers of some of its heroes). The idea of temporarily bringing him over to Las Vegas had been brought up, considering the way Thinker powers seemed to rule the city's parahuman scene, but of course, the risk of unpredicted villainous action was urging caution for now.

Leonardo was an Italian 19-year-old who, as a child, had been among those evacuated from Naples following Leviathan's attack. His family had been among those fortunate enough to survive and bounce back. He had a history of volunteering at the local soup kitchen, and had sought out Cauldron after an Arab friend and former classmate had been hospitalized by local Gesellschaft sympathizers. He was now in the process of joining the Milan branch of the Legione Difesa, Italy's governmental hero organization.

As for Fezāton, he was a Japanese college student. A personal history of civic-minded dutifulness, donations of time and money to charity despite struggling himself… What had driven him to seek power had been the death of his boyfriend, who had become collateral damage in a gang war between rival villains. He had expressed a desire to make the streets safe again, to fight alongside the heroes and the police who were struggling to prevent this sort of tragedy from happening.

They had sought power, been contacted by Cauldron, and paid a small fortune for their vial (not because Cauldron needed the money, of course, but because that helped weed out the candidates who lacked commitment). Normal enough…

...except that she and Contessa had gone to greater lengths than usual to ensure that the vials went to heroic recipients. Cauldron preferred heroes; the percentage of capes who took up the heroic mantle was far higher among Cauldron capes than among natural triggers. But they had been willing to empower villains. Partly because it was difficult, even with Contessa, to predict what someone would do with powers before they actually got them. Partly because villains, too, had a role to play. Cauldron's mission was to save mankind across countless parallel worlds; the collapse of Earth-Bet's civilization on the way there was a hindrance, but not in itself an unacceptable end result.

But… things were changing. The Avatar was changing them. By killing the Endbringers, and causing them to step up their game.

Before he had showed up, it had been about gradually building up their parahuman forces. Heroes in the Protectorate and similar organizations across the world. Villains who could be collaborated with, in control of various cities and fiefdoms. Villains who might be useful but couldn't be allowed to roam free for years, in the Birdcage. Gradually expanding this immense potential army that might, hopefully, save the world… and using what they had to prevent the Endbringers from ruining everything. They lost many, many heroes to the Endbringers, but new ones appeared faster… for now. Number Man believed they were hitting diminishing returns, and would reach saturation within years. Soon enough, society would be in such a sorry shape, and villains so numerous, that their battles would set ablaze what the Endbringers had not destroyed yet, and the parahuman casualties of their infighting would outpace the rate at which new ones appeared.

Except… the Avatar had killed Leviathan, then the Simurgh. And while he had claimed the existence of further Endbringers… there was now a very real possibility of killing them all. At which point… well, Earth-Bet would still be a terrible mess, full of villains and warlords. But without a city getting devastated every three-four months, there could be some stabilization. There would be more time to build an even larger parahuman army. Provided the Endbringers were defeated.

And so, it was now a short-term priority to shore up Earth-Bet's heroic forces. Give the Protectorate and its homologs more powerful capes who would fight against the Endbringers, and contain the tide of villainy. So, when she had created the new generation of vials, she had placed more stringent criteria than usual on their recipients. Only people who had a probability above 75% of becoming heroes.

It was not a long-term policy that Cauldron was committed to. But for now, it looked like the smart play.

Synergy, teamwork, and delegation. In Poseedor's mind, such were the keys to the Four Ghosts of Santiago's success.

His own entrance into the world of capes had not been spectacular. During the final days of the Castro regime, he had been convicted for the murder of his mistress, and condemned to execution - ironically, that had been before he'd ever killed anyone; he was virtually certain that her husband had been the real culprit. But when the execution had come, and he had felt life leaving… he had opened his eyes, and discovered he now was in the body of his executioner. No-one around him seemed to even realize at the time that something had gone amiss.

At first he had thought he'd become some sort of ghost possessing others, before realizing he'd become a cape. With the benefit of hindsight, he was not certain if he had triggered during the execution, or when he had first been condemned. Regardless, that had been a fearful period - for months, he had been stuck in that man's body, trying and failing to hide from everyone around him that something was wrong. An impossible task, since he didn't have any of the memories of the man he possessed.

Then, finally, the revolution had come. Some cape had assassinated Castro, and the whole country was in turmoil. The new government made promises to punish the crimes of the previous regime. Men had shown up to bring him in for questioning. With his rather poor previous experience with being arrested… he had panicked, and gotten violent in his attempt to flee. He'd been shot, and once again, found himself in the body of his killer.

That had been when it had truly sunk in that he had a power. Granted, at the time, he had believed it was the ability to possess the body of whoever killed him; it was only further experience that taught him he actually possessed the nearest available person. With that realization, had come a new burst of confidence: If he couldn't be killed… then he could get away with anything.

Less than a month later, he had gone on his first armed robbery attempt. Despite his newfound confidence, it had ended disastrously - the police had captured him alive. He hated prison. It had taken him several weeks before he'd finally managed to get a guard to kill him. At least, the lesson was learned: In future operations, he knew to escalate the violence to lethal levels very quickly, so that his enemies would not have the option of taking him alive.

That was how Poseedor had started becoming one of the most feared villains in Santiago de Cuba - the man who couldn't be killed, who would steal your body if you even made the attempt. Being feared made it easy to get money, power and respect. Over the next three years, he had built himself a solid position, and gone through eight more bodies (not counting the times he'd ended in the bodies of women, cripples and children; he'd always made to sure to destroy those quickly and move on to something more fitting).

Then one day, he'd discovered that someone had stolen from his cash reserve during the night. He admittedly didn't have much security, but he had thought the fear he inspired made that unnecessary. So, he'd looked into it. He'd persuaded a Thinker to discover the culprit. It turned out to be some fresh-faced kid, barely eighteen, who'd recently triggered with Stranger powers. The kid could make himself undetectable - at will, he became completely invisible, made no sound even while shooting with a rifle, and became so utterly odorless even guard dogs were unaware of his presence.

His first thought had been to kill the kid. He already knew by then that possessing a cape wouldn't give him their powers, but he wanted to make an example of anyone who had the gall to rob him. But… that ability… it could prove useful. And so, when the kid, lying on his back, staring the gun in front of his face and crying like a baby, had begged for his life… he'd granted it, and offered a partnership. And that was how Poseedor had joined forces with Espectro.

A year and a half later, their duo had clashed with a trio - three villains called the Dominadores, who believed their Master powers allowed them to take on anyone. They clashed over territory, money… and so, Poseedor and Espectro had killed one of them. It had not been that hard; the Dominadores were relatively new to this, and he had been a cape for over half a decade. The remaining two Dominadores were now under heavy stress, so he had approached the one he felt could be safely talked to; Horror, as she called herself, could affect everyone within a zone with a radius of up to fifty meters, causing them to experience mind-numbing terror for the next few minutes. He offered her partnership, pointing out how much more effective he and Espectro had proven than her surviving teammate. She'd agreed, and helped them kill the last of the Dominadores.

With Espectro and Horror at his side, his team had become a force to be reckoned with. The other Santiago gangs gave them a wide berth. The police and its heroes treated them with kiddy gloves. Their chunk of the city was one of the largest any gang could claim.

Then Mil Ojos had shown up.

Mil Ojos, at the time, had been a promising new heroine, whom the government had ordered to help restore law and order in Santiago. Her Tinker specialization was surveillance drones; she was able to crank out hundreds of small bots the size of a mouse, each one equipped with mics and cameras (and, later on, a one-shot poison needle). She had given them a swarm intelligence of sorts that allowed them to cover much of the city and maintain efficient surveillance, correlating what they saw and heard using a heuristic algorithm to decide what was worth to bringing up to her attention.

When he'd realized she was establishing surveillance on his city, he'd considered simply having her bumped off… but she'd surprised him by contacting him first. Not to make threats or demand that he turn himself in, but to ask for a spot on his team - crime, after all, paid so much better than hero work.

With Mil Ojos on board, the team had named themselves the Four Ghosts of Santiago. The government, however, did not take her defection lightly. They ordered their heroes to make the Four Ghosts a top priority. They sent in reinforcement from Havana, including Invencible himself.

He still laughed when he remembered the look on Invencible's face when he had walked up to the A-lister hero, and simply slashed his own throat in front of him. Of course, he had been using the body of a child at the time, for once, taking everyone by surprise. Horror had sent the others running, with Espectro picking many of them off. When the dust had cleared, the heroes of Santiago were broken, and its Four Ghosts stood triumphant. They had followed up by raiding city hall, mostly to mark their territory.

The four months that followed had been a period of consolidation. Improving Mil Ojos's surveillance network. Crushing any further heroic opposition. And, mostly, fighting other villain gangs for dominance. But the Four Ghosts worked well together, and had synergy: They had an immortal leader who could take down any cape regardless of Brute powers, an undetectable thief and assassin, a woman who could send whole teams and crowds running in terror, and a spymistress who could root out the whole city's secrets and observe their enemies in real time. Four months and a massive pile of corpses later, the only remaining gangs in the city where those who acknowledged their sovereignty.

That was where delegation came in. There were only four Ghosts after all, and they did not wish to share power by adding further members. Instead, they divided up the city, handing over territory to the weaker gangs who ruled in their name and paid tribute. There were currently 44 other villains in the city - operating in Santiago might mean being under the Four Ghosts' thumb, but it also meant freedom from the government and the law; ultimately, still a good deal for many villains. The system had been working for three years now, allowing them to live like kings.

He wondered, at time, if this was the highest they would go. If they could take Santiago, a city of over four hundred thousand souls… could they take over Havane? The rest of the country? But… they had not originally set out to conquer Santiago. The government had pushed, so they had pushed back, and won. Perhaps it was best, for now, to consolidate their power base. The country was anything but stable, after all, and the Havane government might fall apart any month. And if that happened… well. The Four Ghosts might well step up to the challenge of grabbing all the pieces.

"Poseedor! Get your ass moving! We have a situation!"

He jolted at the familiar voice over his earpiece. "Ojos? What's going on?"

"Step outside and you'll see what's going on! He's here! Flying right above town square!"

"Who?"

"The Avatar!"

If nothing else, that got his attention. He ran outside.

The figuring flying up in the sky had the right build, and was glowing just like the Avatar did on TV, but it was also hundreds of feet up. No wonder everyone in town seemed to be dropping what they were doing to watch. "Ojos, you positive it's the Avatar?"

"Yeah, I've got zoom on a lot of my drones. If it's not him, it's his fucking twin brother. I dunno what he's up to. He's just floating up there with his arms crossed. Like he's trying to glare this town off the map."

That… wasn't promising. The Four Ghosts and the gangs that served them could take on anyone the Havane government could throw at them. But fighting the guy who iced the Simurgh? That did not sound promising. Well… His hand went to the gun in his holster. He supposed if he could get close enough to the Avatar, he could shoot himself, possess the guy, and be done with it. But that would require actually getting close, and that was a losing proposition so long as the Avatar stayed up high.

"FOUR GHOSTS OF SANTIAGO!" The booming voice made him and everyone else flinch. "For years, you have kept the people of this city under your heel. Your reign of terror ends today! You have one last chance to end this without violence. I am giving you ten minutes to surrender peacefully. After that, I will resolve the situation in any way necessary."

"Shit shit shit shit shit," he muttered to himself. He then forced himself to calm down. He'd need to get close to the Avatar. But the Avatar might know enough to watch out for him. So… he'd need sufficient amounts of ambient chaos to pull it off. "Ojos, get every single cape in this city, and get them toward my positions. We're gonna give this bastard a Santiago-style welcome."

"On it, boss."

"...On it, boss."

Mil Ojos felt consciousness returning, even as she heard the voice talking. A voice that sounded exactly like she did on recordings.

Also, why was it so dark, and why couldn't she move, and… Oh. She remembered.

She had been at her station, surveying the city (to the extent that her personal touch was required - most of the drones' job was automated), when everything had suddenly stopped working. The computers, the music, the electric lights - everything had been turned off. She had looked around in shock, only to see three people appear in her room. One of them she instantly recognized as the one, the only, the world's greatest Tinker, Dragon. The second one she had more trouble placing, but he'd been familiar… oh, right. Strider, the big-shot teleporter who always got people to Endbringer battles. The third, though…

"Toldja. All electricity in the room, drained for the next couple minutes," he had said, with a Brazilian accent. And then he'd zapped her.

And if she couldn't move or see… containment foam, maybe?

"...get to your dockside hideout, fortify yourselves, and…" the voice that sounded exactly like hers kep talking. Giving orders and directions to the various gangs. It occurred to her that it probably wouldn't be be too hard for Dragon to take over her apparatus, her drones, her whole network… but it would take time. Just how long had this been in the works? Regardless, it most likely meant that the rest of her team was flying blind, while remaining blissfully unaware of it.

Fuck.

Espectro ran toward town square. Poseedor's orders had been clear. If he managed to get close enough to the Avatar… then Espectro was to shoot him. Poseedor, that is.

Truth be told… he wasn't comfortable with it. Killing the Endbreaker? That… that was just wrong. It wasn't like killing Invencible. This was more like stabbing Saint Michael. Kinda made you question if you were really on the right side. ...Of course, if he had to choose between killing the Avatar or going to jail, well, that made the choice a lot easier.

"Espectro?" Mil Ojos's voice came in. "Listen. I've got an idea. Before you get to town square, I need you to pick one of my drones. Can you see one?"

"What for?"

"No time to explain, just do it!"

Just barely avoiding a collision with a civilian (one of the challenges of running while invisible), he managed to find a drone and pick it up. "Now what?"

"Take it with you to Poseedor. Like I said, I have an idea."

He grunted in annoyance and resumed running.

And then he got hit by a blast of water.

He fell to the ground. He looked up, seeing some white woman in a costume he didn't recognize. How had she seen him? He looked down. Still invisible. He looked at the drone. He'd let go of it and it had been carried away by the water…

...The water. It was still moving. Surrounding him. It didn't matter if he was invisible, the empty space he left in the water was plain as day to the hydrokinesist.

Fuck.

Horror had been chilling at the Oasis Lounge, chatting with Grieta's Crew, when shit had hit the fan.

Poseedor had called her on her earpiece, telling her to join him at town square, and be stealthy about it - after all, her power was one of the few things that might drive the Avatar away at least temporarily. (Or indefinitely. It was harder than one might think to predict who would or wouldn't get a heart attack from her power.)

But she was barely out of the building when something suddenly projected her up in the sky.

Briefly, she screamed in surprise. Then she saw a group of people moving into the Oasis Lounge. A tall woman, wearing nothing but force-fields. Someone in a bulky power armor. Some Asian guy with a lightsaber. And several more. There to get Grieta's Crew?

And then she realized someone was floating in the air next to her. Presumably the one lifting her up telekinetically, keeping her too far from the ground to use her power on anyone. The Avatar.

She blinked. "...Aren't you on the other side of town?"

"Not really."

She used her power on the area containing him. Only half a second afterwards did she realize how stupid that was - making him panic right now was most likely to cause her a fatal fall. Not that it mattered, as he didn't seem in the least affected. And then his hand glowed, about to blast her.

Fuck.

Where the hell was everyone?! Poseedor looked around frantically. Barely ten of the city's villains had arrived so far. Mil Ojos kept telling him they were coming, but…

Meanwhile the Avatar kept getting closer and closer to the ground. Less than eighty feet now.

He looked around. Most of these capes would be useless against the Avatar, but some of them… "You, you, and you. Hit that bastard with everything you've got."

Not that it helped. The Avatar did not melt. He was not temporarily paralyzed. And judging from his unchanging expression, he probably wasn't suffering from sudden amnesia. Nothing was working.

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE, WHERE IS EVERYONE?!" he bellowed in frustration.

"Getting their ass kicked all over town," said the Avatar. "Don't you get it? I'm the big, shiny distraction. While you've been focusing your attention on me like the big dumb moron you are, the Guild has been going in teams, picking off most of the villains in this city. Just about done now."

"No," he said, "Mil Ojos would have said something…"

"Ha! She was the one we took down first! We placed her under surveillance yesterday, and had her replaced right before I showed up here."

No panic. He couldn't afford to panic. "You. Don't play your fucking games. I don't care if you killed an Endbringer, I…"

"You're really slow on the uptake. We already have someone playing a fake Mil Ojos. It's not much harder to play a fake Avatar, while the real one's kicking ass on the other side of town. Amazing what tinkertech can do, right?"

There was a blur, and the Avatar was replaced by a woman he didn't recognize. "Name's Celo. And you're under arrest, you son of a bitch."

Before he could retort, an ear-splitting sound struck him. It wasn't just loud - it felt like he was getting hit by a wall of solid air, a hundred times in a single second. As he and most of the other villains fell to the ground, he saw an Indian woman who had apparently moved in behind them while Celo had been talking. He saw a man, moving too quickly to distinguish his features, rapidly striking a Brute who hadn't fallen to the sonic assault even as Celo dived toward the ground. He saw the (real?) Avatar flying in. He saw an Indian guy arriving in at super-speed, with a foam sprayer aimed at him. And then he saw nothing else.

A few minutes later (or so he thought, barely holding on to consciousness), he heard a female voice. "Yes, president Rios, we have them all. Santiago is Cuban again."

Fuck.

Terror Drone Two was bathing in magma.

That in itself was not unusual. It always hid in the depths of the planet between attacks. However, this time around, it was being more active about it.

The interloper had upended the status quo. First by killing Terror Drone Thirteen, then Terror Drone Seven. Contributing to hope and stability among the humans. Those were not conditions conductive to the cycle.

That the Thinker had died, leaving only the Warrior, did not matter. That the cycle was doomed regardless of their actions did not matter. The Terror Drones were programmed to maintain an environment conductive to the cycle, and that was exactly what they would do. Furthermore, they would learn from each other's mistakes. Terror Drone Thirteen hadn't used all his power against the interloper from the start, and then had tried to flee. Terror Drone Seven had tried to rely on its ability to predict the interloper, and had fought him alone.

None of these mistakes would be repeated.

And so, Terror Drone Two bathed in magma, many miles below the area humans designated as Yellowstone. Magma whose flow it had, in recent weeks, redirected. Created constant currents that always brought him more and more molten rock, even as he drained it of heat and energy. Accumulating it. Preparing for battle. Readying itself.

Just like Terror Drone Five and Terror Drone Sixteen.

Last edited: Jul 13, 2016

172

sun tzu

Jun 6, 2016

View discussion

Threadmarks (Interlude) Thinker Tank

View content

sun tzu

Jun 23, 2016

#34

Swear to Celestia, this was intended to be short.

(INTERLUDE) THINKER TANK

"Thank you all for coming," says Narwhal at the assembled Guild. "Joining us today are PRT director Wayland, of the Toronto PRT and foreign relation expert, as well as Glenn Chambers, PRT image director."

"Thank you for having us," says director Wayland, a graying gentleman, while Chambers nods.

Narwhal resumes. "It's been less than 30 hours since the liberation of Santiago de Cuba. Of the 48 arrested villains, 21 are currently incarcerated in Cuban prisons, while 27 have temporarily been placed in PRT holding facilities at La Havane's request; it is believed that between 11 and 14 of those will be sent to the Birdcage. Meanwhile, national authorities are working to restore public services to Santiago."

"The business world is starting to feel effects too," adds Surdoué, standing beside the Guild's leader. "Móvil, the principal Caribbean cell phone provider, is anticipating significant sales once cell phone towers are restored; their stock is already rising. Several international businesses are more interested in Cuba than they were last week, since the regained control of a major city makes the country look a lot more stable."

"There is also some early chatter about Cuban heroes wishing to join the Guild," Narwhal resumes. "While the idea has obvious merit, I feel it is too early for that. We have recently expanded our roster by nearly half; I think we should wait another operation or two before expanding further."

"On the political end of things," director Wayland adds after Narwhal gives him the nod, "president Rios's speech has thanked the Guild, emphasizing its nature as an international agency. The fact that half the Guild's roster is comprised of Protectorate members is not lost on people, though. Flash-polls suggest that America's approval ratings in Cuba have gone up three points - probably four if we could poll in Santiago itself. Washington and La Havane have begun discussing the possibility of modest foreign aide for restoring the city, as well as discussing trade agreements - a subject that's on a lot of minds nowadays, since everyone wants a slice of the maritime commerce pie now that Leviathan is dead."

"If I may backtrack a little?" says Glenn Chambers. "I cannot recommend enough that you look into which Cuban heroes would be both interested in joining the Guild and useful to it. Recruiting from places you help, and having them pay it forward by helping elsewhere, would send a powerful message, as well as serve as an excellent recruitment tool."

"Noted," says Narwhal, "but for now, we need to consider our next order of business. Before we decided to make the Four Ghosts our priority, we made a list of over one hundred and fifty situations worldwide that required attention; we then trimmed it down to six, and of those six, two have now been handled. We need to decide what's next."

And then the long debate begins.

Doctor Metal wants Swarm removed from power in her native Ivory Coast, much like Celo and Centro want the cartels removed from power in Argentina… unfortunately, as things currently stand, there isn't really a legitimate government ready to step in; Swarm had State-level politicians exterminated, keeping only those who were in advisory roles without real power for their expertise.

Sunblade clearly wants Skylance taken care of, but you get the impression that he's trying to force himself to be patient, make himself more useful to the Guild before making requests. It comes somewhat to his surprise when Laser Fist puts more effort than him in lobbying for that cause - there may no love lost between her South Korea and his Japan, but then, Skylance is aligned precisely with the Japanese far-right that talks big about "invading South Korea before the CUI grabs it first". More to the point, perhaps, taking Skylance off the board would be a huge step toward stabilizing Japan, which would be good for the region overall - both economically, and in creating a stronger counterpoint to the CUI and its ambitions.

Dragon strongly favors going after the Slaughterhouse Nine. It is her opinion that, despite their classification as an S-class threat and the terror they inspire, the danger that they represent is actually being underestimated, and that they could react to the changing status quo in devastating ways.

The Three Blasphemies, Madame Lustucru, Gesellschaft, the bloody Myanmar war, Sleeper, Nilbog, and more are all being discussed. You find yourself partial to taking on Skylance and Madame Lustucru, personally: Skylance is a major factor in the continued suffering of millions, a political radicalizer no better than Gesellschaft, a threat to the freedoms and well-being of an enormous population, and a geopolitical destabilizer for the whole region. As for Madame Lustucru, taking her down will not only end the horrific nightmare Kolwezi has been living, but also reinforce the message that there are lines villains and warlords are not allowed to cross.

Eventually, director Wayland brings geopolitics back to the forefront. "If your goal is to push for governments and heroes to collaborate across national borders, then there are four fronts worth focusing on.

"The first is Mexico. Despite extremely powerful cartels, it remains one of the few countries in Latin America to be mostly ruled by a democratic government. Its admission into the Protectorate is being finalized these days, and it is inevitable that there will be pushback from the villains. If things work out, however, then it can be a shining example of the cooperation the Protectorate is supposed to embody.

"The second is Nigeria. The country houses a fifth of Africa's population, and an even larger share of its GDP. For much of the 90s, its parahuman Peacekeepers were a stabilizing force across West Africa. After Behemoth attacked Lagos ten years ago, however, Nigeria was forced to turn inward. Nowadays, the central government - comprised partly of the military junta, partly of elected officials - is struggling to maintain control in the new capital at Kano, which has 15% of the government's capes despite only holding 2.5% of the population. Their inward focus is understandable considering that Zaria, Port Harcourt, Benin City and what's left of Lagos have all been de facto taken over by the local gangs. If someone were to assist the Nigerian Peacekeepers in cleaning house, then they might in turn be persuaded to liberate some of their neighbors.

"The third is Vietnam. The country has been divided among warlords, and while some of them have managed a stable rule, the country is still wracked by war. More recently, however, two of the bigger potentates, Phosphor and Black Sun, have agreed to a ceasefire. If you take down some of the nastier warlords, it may be possible to persuade the saner ones to work together in order to rebuild the country… provided one accounts for the local political complexities, of course. Succeeding here might show the way to warlords in other nations, and encourage more civilized behavior.

"Fourthly, there is Europe. Before the Simurgh first showed up, there were plans for a European Brigade that would play a role similar to the Protectorate. Unfortunately, between the destruction of Switzerland, the UK leaving the European Union, and the fall of Warsaw, these plans never quite came through. Until recently, the European Brigade was a token organization, counting a total of 12 heroes." He surveys the room. "More recently, with the evolution of public opinion, Spain and Italy have each agreed to transfer three of their heroes to the Brigade. Of course, that is still laughably small… However, there's some real momentum here. If the Guild can give everyone a good look at what international alliances can accomplish, then it may well be possible to convince the powers that be to finally allocate some real manpower to the Brigade."

Hydro looks pensive. "That might work. I know a fairly powerful Thinker back in Krakow who often rants off-duty about how the Simurgh has isolated us, and how protecting Europe should be handled by a pan-European force. He's honestly one of the best Thinkers we have left heroside, and I'm pretty sure he'd jump on the opportunity to join the Brigade if it became a serious project."

"Huh." Surdoué looks pensive. "Who are you talking about?"

"He calls himself Napoleon. Some kind of… tactical power, I think, though he's never explained to me how it actually works."

Surdoué makes a face. "...Wait, the guy calls himself Napoleon? Seriously? Does he also wear a bicorne hat?"

Hydro looks awkwardly. "...Well, it's not that silly. I know of at least one Tinker called Archimedes, the Legione Difesa has a Garibaldi, there's Alexandria…"

The French Thinker sighs. "I think this is sillier. Besides, while I will grant that his reforms did a lot to modernize the country, I still think it's in bad taste for a hero to name themselves after a megalomaniac warlord who overthrew a republic and conquered half a continent. It'd be like naming yourself after Bariq, or Swarm, or Storm Rider."

Hydro shrugs at that. "I don't know how he's perceived in France, but Napoleon is well-loved in Poland. He gave us our independence."

"Well, it's complic-" Surdoué stops himself. "OK. Historical debate shelved. We'll look into the guy, or I guess we'll… well, it's not like we decide what will happen to the Brigade."

"No, but you can speak to people and lobby to an extent," says Glenn Chambers. "And I don't think I need to tell anyone here what a force-multiplier good Thinkers can be."

"Which brings me to the following point," says director Wayland, turning on a slide, showing an Asian cape, probably in his mid-twenties. "Ladies and gentlemen, meet Johnny Kong. Cape name, not real name."

Dragon glances at the slide. "Hm. Looks like a British street?"

"Correct. As far as the PRT has been able to ascertain, it seems likely that Johnny Kong's family were among the Hong Kong expats who came to Britain when the city was returned to China. Regardless of personal background, Kong is currently a member of the King's Men, the United Kingdom's national parahuman force. He is usually kept in the background, but we've come to believe he is far more central to their operations than they would ever admit publicly."

Narwhal raises an eyebrow. "Do tell."

"Certainly. According to our intelligence, Johnny Kong, who styles himself a neo-Confucianist intellectual, seems to have some form of teamwork-based Thinker power. He is able to quickly and efficiently figure out potential synergies in a team, accounting for powers, skills and personalities." Dragon chuckles lightly and stops herself, as if she just got a really bad joke. Wayland resumes: "Near as we can tell, the King's Men have him touring the country, looking over various teams and improving them as much as he can on a regular basis. We believe he is one of the main reasons Lord Walston has been able to keep the UK together, despite everything."

Lord Walston, the British situation… you've had time to read up on both. Back during the 80s and early 90s, the UK was relatively stable, at least by the standards of Earth-Bet. The King's Men were founded in 1991, a year and a half before the PRT. Between 1995 and 1997, however, the more militant branches of the IRA, emboldened by significant parahuman membership, escalated their terrorist activities, prompting an increasingly authoritarian response from the government while the King's Men acted in an increasingly ruthless manner, even as Gesellschaft was rising. Additionally, the Endbringer attacks on Cologne, Madrid, Lyon and Naples between 1996 and 2000 had weakened the other major powers in the European Union; in Britain, some saw it as the UK's time to shine and lead Europe through a dark time, while others resented the nation being required again and again to pay for other countries' disaster relief.

In early 2002, the King's Men won a string of major victories against the IRA, arresting or killing most of its leaders and capes. There were still growing tensions, but it seemed that the worst had passed. Then, on the last days of the year, the Simurgh struck Lausanne.

About seven months later, the world was still trying and horrifyingly failing to salvage Switzerland when the Simurgh's second attack targeted London. Anti-Simurgh tactics, such as self-destructing bracelets to kill heroes who'd spent too much time within her range, had not been invented yet. The Protectorate and various European heroes (among others) attempted to assist, but nothing helped against the Simurgh.

An emergency vote at the UN, still horrified by Lausanne, decided to enact a measure discussed a month earlier in case of further Simurgh attacks: The complete quarantine of the target city. The UK's representative to the United Nations opted not to use the British veto; he was murdered months later by British members of the Gesellschaft, greatly improving recruitment for the organization.

What made the quarantine all the more disastrous was that the Prime Minister and near-totality of Parliament had been in session during the attack, and had used an Endbringer shelter rather than escape the city. The country was nearly leaderless. The royal family had been evacuated, save for the queen herself, who had died during the attack; her son, now crowned Charles III, did what he could to stabilize the country, and ended up throwing his political weight behind Lord Walston.

Lord Walston, an English count and member of the House of Lords with proudly nationalistic positions, had been at the edge of London when the attack had started; his quick thinking had allowed him to rapidly organize the evacuation of a nearby elementary school, getting hundreds of people outside of the city, most of them children. For his actions, he was inducted into the Order of the Garter in the following days by King Charles, who wanted him to serve as a symbol of hope among the chaos gripping the nation.

Walston did more than that. With the king's blessing, he proceeded to put together an "emergency Parliament", comprised mostly of aristocrats that he personally believed could be trusted, local politicians brought from all over the UK, and carefully-selected elites from the military whom he considered competent and decisive enough to lead Britain through the crisis. Rather than elect a prime minister, he arranged to have the king fill that role until the end of the state of emergency (which was only officially lifted nine months later). This emergency government granted itself a number of powers to deal with the crisis, and formally left the European Union. The latter decision proved easy to sell to the public: Following the earlier Behemoth and Leviathan attacks on EU members, Britain had contributed significant aid. The London attack, however, had followed the Simurgh's destruction of the Swiss banking system; the rest of the EU's economy was in shambles, and the aid that got sent to Britain was far more limited as a result. Most of the UK saw it as a betrayal that more than justified leaving the Union.

Once the state of emergency was lifted, Walston's hand-picked Parliament elected a new prime minister. To many people's surprise, Walston himself did not try to get the job, instead arranging for it to be given to one of his allies in the military. Meanwhile, he himself revealed that he had triggered with parahuman abilities (a large-area awareness of and control over sound, to degrees that rival Weaver's bug powers); he joined the King's Men, taking over the top leadership position.

That was seven years ago. There have been real elections since, but in the current system, everything is being decided by a single chamber of Parliament, where only two thirds of the members are elected; the rest remain the aristocrats and military appointees that Walston originally pushed for, or their replacements as appointed by the king. This semi-democratic government has been taking increasingly fascistic stances, especially following the Scottish secession attempt of 2007. London's quarantine was lifted unilaterally, with no international input, on the fifth anniversary of the attack - which immediately resulted in a series of bloody disasters that had been building up in the city during those five years.

Lord Walston remains the leader of the King's Men, frequently fighting in the field. It is an open secret that he has an alliance of sorts with the British branch of the Gesellschaft, who maintain a number of "neighborhood watches" with his blessing (usually in immigrant-filled, poverty-stricken neighborhoods). Overall, your impression of the man is that he is not trying to set himself up as a dictator, per se… but rather, that he is an ultranationalist (with definite racist leanings and some old-fashioned ideas about the role of the aristocracy) who believes that in order to survive, his country needs a strong, authoritarian government that places a far greater emphasis on order, strength and security than on freedom and civil rights. Under his influence, the UK has increasingly turned inward, paying less and less attention to the affairs of the rest of the world; the only exception to that trend are Ireland (which the British far-right speaks of in increasingly warlike terms) and Simurgh attacks, during which the King's Men always send a contingent under Lord Walston's command.

"So that's why the PRT wanted you at this meeting," Surdoué grins at director Wayland. "Obviously, getting Johnny Kong to actually step out of the British Isles would be a boon. If he's as good as you're making him sound, then quick visits from him all over the world could boost the efficiency of Protectorate teams, Irréductibles teams, the Guild… but the King's Men aren't exactly big on reaching out." He pauses. "Surely there must be something you can trade with them, no?"

"They're disinclined to listen," the director sighs. "Accepting direct help would hurt their image - much like the CUI's Yangban, the King's Men PR puts a strong emphasis on their ability to defend their homeland without foreign aid. Subtler forms of assistance, such as Thinker support, could be negotiated… but the PRT's Thinkers generally believe that such negotiations would fail." He gazes at the French cape. "The Guild, however, might prove more successful. If you win more high-visibility victories in your internationalist configuration, it might shift public opinion enough that you can negotiate with the British government, whom the King's Men still, ultimately, answer to."

"So I see," says Surdoué. "All right. But this is bringing up an important point. Because Chambers is right, Thinkers are a force-multiplier. There's a reason they're almost twice as likely as other cape types to become successful warlords and gang leaders. Now, I'm not trying to brag here - my own powers are not exactly A-list material - but the fact is, if the Guild or the European Brigade or any other organization wants to make a global difference, then it needs solid Thinker support." He surveys the room. "We have the Avatar's special senses and eidetic memory. We have Centrum, who can play mission control when Dragon can't, and is one hell of a spy under the right circumstances. We have Silver Crusader and his 'trail of crumbs', which would actually be pretty handy for tracking down the Slaughterhouse Nine-"

"I've attempted that before," the New York cape points out. "Results were mixed."

"Sure, but my point stands. We need to leverage good Thinkers - not necessarily to recruit them, but to get their occasional support. Getting Johnny Kong more work would be a coup, and I think I want to hear more about that Napoleon guy. Who else would be worth looking into?"

"I can think of a few people," you say.

"Give it up, shitstains," said Smasthrough. "It's five-on-three. Save yourselves the beating."

Napoleon considered. Smashthrough and his four teammates… Maybe not the worst parahuman gang in Krakow, but not exactly lightweights, either. One of several gangs trying to move into Niszczyciel's old territory, now that the A-lister villain had turned himself in. Smashthrough had a fairly basic Alexandria package; the other fours were respectively a short-range pyrokinesist, a telekinetic named Arsenal who could simultaneously control a dozen objects with good precision (and did so with guns), a precog who could sense danger before it arrived, and a guy who could cause intense acid burns to anything touched by his shadow.

Meanwhile, heroside, there was Sci-Fi, a Tinker specialized in beam weaponry; Centrifuge, a Shaker who could generate vortexes of circular gravitational pulls… and him, the Thinker. Not an ideal situation, but there was always a random element to patrolling the streets.

He reached into his power, trying to visualize the following minute. And for an instant, he saw so much.

A scenario where he simply ordered his teammates to attack, ending with two of the villains injured, and them all down or worse.

A scenario where he shot his gun without saying a word, aiming at Arsenal, and missing when the precog pushed her out of the way. The villains promptly killed them.

A scenario where he didn't miss, killing Arsenal. He and his teammates managed to take down three more baddies, before Smashthrough finished them off.

A scenario where an attack on the precog revealed that he wasn't the precog at all, but the shapeshifter who had robbed a food stamp reserve yesterday.

And on and on it went. Somewhere between forty and fifty thousand scenarios played out in his head in the blink of an eye. Tens of thousands of different ways for the upcoming minute to play out.

He knew by now that the scenarios his power showed him were not precognitive visions of the future. Rather, they were calculations, simulations of how things could potentially turn out based on what information was available to him. And since he didn't know everything, his power tended to fill in the blanks by throwing in guesses. For example, the precog actually being a shapeshifter in disguise was not something he had cause to believe, but it was possible, and had thus randomly showed up in one of the visualized scenarios. That it had showed up in only one scenario out of tens of thousands indicated that it was very unlikely.

Due to the probabilistic nature of his power, the more scenarios he could see, the clearer an idea he got from them… and the way his power worked, the number of scenarios he saw decreased with their length. Short scenarios, a minute or shorter, would number in the tens of thousands. Hour-long scenarios would number in the thousands. Scenarios meant to last for whole days, though… they didn't necessarily even breach the double digits.

Still. In this specific instance… One approach had appeared in over a hundred scenarios, and led to their victories in about three out of four. In half of them, they won without any fatality on their side. Good enough.

He carefully aimed his gun at the precog. "Not five, and not three. Sci-Fi, take Smashthrough. Centrifuge, get the fire guy. Arsenal, take the precog."

And then he fired.

His bluff wasn't very good, but it needed only produce a couple seconds' worth of hesitation. Three of the villains had been staring at Arsenal for an instant after hearing his words. She, rather than fire, just stared at him gobsmacked. The precog, like in most scenarios, dodged… but, focusing on the immediate danger of the gunshot, had not been able to anticipate the other dangers.

In that second of confusion, the villains's brains were still trying to figure out if Arsenal was a traitor who had just shot at their precognitive comrade. Napoleon took that second to step forward, toward the deadly shadow. The shadow villain, seeing his movement, instinctively activated his shadow's acidic effect… right as the pyrokinetic, charging toward Centrifuge, ran over it. And instant later, he was on the ground, screaming.

While he was screaming, Napoleon was taking a quick step backward, putting distance between himself and the shadow again. Sci-Fi nailed Smashthrough with the heaviest setting of his raygun, causing the flying Brute to scream in pain. Centrifuge activated a field of distorted gravity… moving all of Arsenal's guns an instant before she fired them, causing nearly all of them to miss. It also caught the shadow villain and the precog in its field, starting to drag them around in a circular motion.

He fired his gun again, this time three quick shots all aimed at Arsenal's head (he was fairly confident she was wearing body armor). A single shot would have sufficed in half the scenarios, two would have sufficed in most of them, but with three shots, there were almost no scenarios where they all missed. One bullet took her ear off, and another one went through her forehead.

Sci-Fi fired another blast at Smasthrough as the charred villain, screaming in rage, flew right at them. As per the relevant scenarios, Napoleon shouted "go left!" at him. Sci-Fi, bless his quick reflexes, did just that, letting the Alexandria package fly past him and into a wall, opening himself up to another raygun blast. Meanwhile, Napoleon shot again at the precog, this time nailing him in the thigh while he was struggling with the last effects of the gravitational centrifuge.

Arsenal, down. The precog, down. Pyrokinesist, down. Smashthrough… also down, from the looks of it. Centrifuge… also down, from one of Arsenal's bullets. That had been the most likely setback of this approach. Dammit.

No time to play nice. Taking villains alive was usually preferable to killing them, but every second he wasted on it was a second during which Centrifuge was bleeding to death. As such, he quickly emptied his pistol magazine into the shadow villain, and immediately focused his full attention on giving his teammate first aid.

An hour later, the three surviving (though badly injured) villains were being hauled off, and Centrifuge was going to pull through. Not perfect, but still a victory.

And then he saw that he had a message. From Captain Hydro? Interesting.

"Thanks again for the lift," says Silver Crusader, some time after you have both arrived to Ottawa.

"Think nothing of it. I am genuinely curious to see you at work."

"Well… Keep in mind, my Trail Of Crumbs only gives me fairly vague hints. Back during the Week of Fear, for example, I had the instinctive urge to go to the stadium during the game, but I had no idea why. It could have been that there was some sort of clue I'd be able to find there about the Fear Syndicate's operation. It could be I'd recognize an unpowered minion of theirs I could interrogate. It could be one of my informants was hiding from assassins, trying to blend in with the crowd in the most public place possible, and would give me information if I found him. It could also be that I was going to waste hours in the stadium accomplishing diddly-squat, only realizing a week later - or never - what exactly I could have found there in time if I'd been more vigilant. In the end, it was lucky that I noticed the guy acting suspiciously, and stopped him before he could bring the whole stadium down.

"In other words: My Trail Of Crumbs always gives me a chance to find what I'm looking for, but never a guarantee. I still need to pay close attention, and do a lot of detective work - and even then, I still end up missing important stuff. It's why I've packed this," he puts his index against his tinkertech helmet, "full of sensors and Augmented Reality tech.

"Right now? Well, I asked my Trail of Crumbs how I could find the Nine, and it tells me to go to the Ottawa PRT HQ. It could mean there's a clue, it could mean someone there will accost me to tell me something, it could mean the Siberian will smash through a wall the instant we set foot in the place. No way of knowing in advance."

And, of course, since you don't want to tip the Nine off and reveal to them what you're doing, your visit is very low-key. You have called the relevant PRT director ahead, of course, but Silver Crusader is using a different costume from his usual, and you are using your power pool to appear like a dark-skinned woman - no need to let the whole world know the Avatar visited Ottawa.

Once you've reached the HQ, and provided some more explanations, a couple hours are spent investigating. Your senses and mental super-speed are of some assistance, and so is your ability to temporarily grant a modest measure of super-speed to Silver Crusader. Still, it takes a while before he finally finds something.

"I've been going over everything the PRT has on local villains. There's over a hundred known ones at the latest count. Of all of those, there are five who haven't had a single reported sighting this week. That doesn't actually mean anything - any of them could simply be laying low between jobs or something - but it's the closest thing I've found to a lead."

For what comes next, you need to use your power pool for both enhanced senses and mental acceleration, so you are given a small tinkertech cloaking device for discretion instead. And thus, you begin canvassing the city (several times larger than Brockton Bay, unfortunately) for the missing villains.

Of the five, three turn out to simply be laying low in their territory. A fourth, you find imprisoned and apparently between torture sessions in the hideout of a rival gang; you arrest them, rescue him, give him some minimum healing, and deliver him to the PRT. The fifth, though…

"OK, so the Nine were definitely here," says Silver Crusader, somewhat queasy, as you help him and a PRT squad examine the location. The blood, the horror, the artistically-laid corpses that have been tortured in ways only possible for a biology-specialized Tinker… definitely Bonesaw's work. "There haven't been any missing person reports," he notes, "these must have been homeless people. And this," he points at a section of damaged wall, "The damage is just too neat. Very few things beside the Siberian could have caused it."

After some more time investigating the scene, with your cosmic senses assisting, Silver Crusader concludes: "We know Unexpected is or was a teleporter, but he's a fairly novice villain. He was still a solo act. I'm guessing they wanted him for his Mover power. The question becomes, did they decide to recruit him, since they've been missing a ninth member recently? It's also possible that it wasn't recruitment, that they just had Bonesaw take over his body using tinkertech implants; wouldn't be the first time she pulled that shit." He sighs. "And because this guy was fairly new, we only have a pretty vague idea of the extent of his powers."

You hum, thinking. Perhaps there is something to be done here…

"Of course, we appreciate that the Guild is discussing this operation with us rather than executing it unilaterally," said Minister Suzuki.

"But of course," said Surdoué, picking on the minister's more than decent mastery of protocol. "The Guild has nothing but respect for legitimate governments. We had the Santiago operation okayed by Cuba's president before we even started it, and we have no intention of encroaching on Japanese sovereignty. Besides, it would be a rather poor way of thanking Japan, since your nation has generously contributed so much of Sunblade's time to our work."

"Unfortunately, your lawfulness is a double-edged sword in this instance," said counselor Sato. "The way current laws are set up, such a foreign intervention would require an authorization by a majority of the Diet. You'll definitely have the voices for it - Heavens know most of the Diet wants Skylance gone - but it means that it will be impossible to keep the operation's time table secret from the Yamato Party. The Yamato Party, in turn, will be certain to inform Skylance well ahead of time. She will be able to prepare at her leisure for your coming… or, should she so choose, simply hide on the other side of the Earth."

"For that matter, the last thing the Yamato Party wants is for foreigners to appear as the saviors of Japan," said general Tanaka. "They'll have an uphill battle, considering that the Avatar did slay Leviathan… but they'll still have time to work at shaping the narrative, and maybe even to make things easier on Skylance. Maybe even bring Fuji-Sama on board."

"Fuji-Sama and Skylance hate each other," Suzuki pointed out.

"True, but war makes for strange bedfellows," said Sato. "It's a possibility worth considering, at least."

"Indeed," Surdoué clasped his hands. "Thank you for bringing all of these points up. I believe, thankfully, that we have a number of cards to play here. For starters: While the Guild will only be able to operate on Japanese soil during a time window set by the Diet, I understand the SDF's parahuman forces will be under no such restriction, correct?"

It wasn't a simple problem. Taking Skylance down… Tactics, politics, both were going to be important there.

But Surdoué felt confident. At the moment, he was as good a politician as Minister Suzuki, as cunning and perceptive as counselor Sato, as capable a military man as general Tanaka… while also benefitting from the tactical brilliance of Sunblade, the lateral thinking of Doctor Volt, and the experience of Iron Snake, who had accompanied him for this meeting. Between all of those abilities, he was confident he could come up with a good first draft of a plan.

"Tattletale," you call out with your communication power. "Would now be a good time to see you?"

She barely misses a beat. "...Sure. We can meet at-"

"Excellent. May I come in?"

A couple seconds of hesitation. "...OK, yeah."

And thus you teleport inside the room of the "secret" lair of the Undersiders.

It's a bit rude, compared to how you usually visit people. But you've asked Weaver to tell you more about Tattletale before you came here (and about how she was holding up in Boston; as the only hero there with experience fighting E88, her expertise has been in high demand). Considering what you've heard of this girl, and how you've decided to approach things, you figure you want her to be at least slightly off-balance.

Tattletale, who didn't even bother putting on her domino mask, sighs. "I've gotta tell Grue to put better locks on this place. Visitors just come and go as they please."

"How many unexpected visitors have you had?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she says with a shudder - you can't tell if it's fear or frustration. "Anyway! You're deliberately trying to put me off-balance, so you came here for some kind of negotiation. You need my help."

"Not for the first time. You have been immensely helpful before. I don't know if I could have beaten Leviathan without your assistance."

Her smirk grows, just a little. "And now, even putting aside Endbringers, your new friends at the Guild are going to be butting heads with hundreds and thousands of parahumans from all over the world. You know that you're going to need all the information you can get."

"Essentially. We're not recruiting, per se, but we want to build at least some kind of support network of Thinkers. I believe your abilities, synergizing with those of others, could save countless lives."

"Your Guild already has more Thinkers than it lets on," she observes. "You pulled that Santiago coup way too cleanly."

You nod. "Regardless, the Guild will be facing many difficult challenges. You could make a big difference."

"Oh, I know I could," she says, crossing her arms. "The question is, can you make it worth my while? I usually charge a few dozen grand per question these days."

"To be perfectly honest," you say without missing a beat, "I was hoping to guilt-trip you into doing it for free."

Your deadpan delivery actually gets a chuckle from her. "I'm not a sociopath, and I'm willing to do my part if an Endbringer is trying to wipe out the city I'm standing in, but don't go thinking I'm a charity worker either. Besides, last time I checked, even Protectorate heroes get paid - and I am not New Wave."

"Heroes get paid, yes, but the salary tends to be in the realm of the middle class, upper middle class at most. Do you really need more than that? The Guild isn't exactly wealthy. Even the PRT is constantly struggling with its budget."

"I'm sure you can pull something," her smirk remains. "If I just started helping people for free, I'd find it difficult to charge for my services later."

"Were you Taylor's friend?"

Her smirk disappears at the sudden swerve. "W-What?"

"Taylor. I happen to think very highly of that girl. She obviously considered you a friend, and still does, despite her mixed feelings. However, I find it very hard to believe that you didn't know she was undercover when she joined your team," her complete lack of surprise confirms it, "which means that you knowingly took the risk of bringing an undercover hero on board… and a month later, she felt too much personal loyalty to you and your teammates to betray you.

"So, if I'm going to be negotiating with you, I want to know better who I'm talking to: Someone who genuinely tried to be Taylor's friend, or someone who cynically manipulated a traumatized, emotionally vulnerable teenager in order to strengthen her team."

You maintain a neutral expression. Tattletale, not so much. Her anger is now obvious. "I saved that traumatized, emotionally vulnerable teenager, you self-righteous asshole! When I first met Taylor, she didn't value her own life anymore! You know why she took on Lung instead of running away? Because she was fucking suicidal, and didn't care if she got killed anymore, so long as it protected someone else!" You think she is doing Taylor a disservice by underestimating her genuine altruism, but you keep it to yourself for now - Taylor's self-esteem is terribly shredded, after all. "So, yes. I took a huge personal risk - and a risk for my team - by bringing her on board. I tried to teach her to be a bit more selfish, not because I'm some wicked corruptor, but because she didn't think she was worth anything, and she needed to learn to take care of herself. I gave her the only real support network she had. And yes, I lied to her with every fucking breath I took. Cry. Me. A river." She glares at you. "Everyone manipulates the people in their lives. You're trying to manipulate me into doing pro bono work because you think it'll help me become a better person. I'm not going to apologize for trying to save her in what way I could."

"I believe you." That stops her angry rant instantly, the scowl being replaced by a befuddled expression. "I mean, not on everything. I think with your abilities, you could have helped Taylor in ways that were less likely to hurt her. I think selfish goals played a bigger role in your decisions than you would like to admit, even to yourself." You pause. "But I do believe that you really wanted to help her, and that you really are her friend.

"But you have to realize that, good intentions or not, you did hurt her, quite a lot. Taylor, fundamentally, at her very core, wants to do good and help others. For it to stop being one of her main drives, she would need to effectively die inside. When you manipulated her into a path that went against that, it almost broke her. Her heart, her already ailing self-esteem, the relationship she's trying to salvage with her father… they all suffered as a result. Even now, she's still hurting from how things ended with the Undersiders, and simply from how much she misses you." You mark another pause. "As I understand it, friends help each other. Even if you can't help Taylor with the battles she has to face now, don't you think you could at least help her peace of mind by moving with the Undersiders closer to the altruistic end of the cape spectrum?"

Her expression and voice are now utterly deadpan. "You're trying to use Taylor to manipulate me into being a better person."

To which you counter: "I believe, Tattletale, that you have within you reserves of kindness and nobility that you haven't even come close to suspecting. I also believe that Taylor can be a very good influence on you, if you'll only let her." Her expression remains unreadable. "If you're as good as Taylor believes you are, then you know I'm not trying to screw you over."

"No, of course not. You're just trying to make me help you for free."

"I'm trying to save the world you happen to live in, and I'm working with a tight budget. I am entirely aware that I can't do it alone, or even do a single percent of the required work alone. This world is not going to get better unless people work together, Tattletale."

"Right. But what definition of 'people' are we using here?" And just like that, her expression has turned into a smug grin once more. "After all, not everyone in this room is even remotely human."

You raise an eyebrow. It's not too surprising that she's figured something out, but how much has she figured out? You've kept this information top-secret, hidden from all but the Arcane Alliance, for damn good reasons.

She goes on: "Some of it I figured when you first showed up, the rest on the day you arrested Coil. You're not human at all, are you? All that melodramatic speech about heroism… There was a bit of an agenda there, I realized. You're promoting heroism, because it's the only part of humanity you can truly relate to. It's your whole mindset. Whoever built you wanted some kind of perfect superhero, so they gave you a thought process that was completely focused on the concept. No pride, no jealousy, no greed, no boredom… no lust, no love except maybe in the most platonic sense, no desire for a family… nothing except being brave, truthful, and unselfish, all in a physical package that's artificially designed to look like half the planet's sex dreams. The Blue Fairy didn't half-ass the job with you."

You chuckle. "Platonic love gets a bad rap in my opinion, but I suppose that's beside the point. It is true that I am not, as you put it, remotely human. What of it?"

"It just seems odd to me," she says, still grinning. "Quite possibly the most honest person in the world, and you keep such a big secret to yourself. I have to wonder - are you afraid of bigotry? Concerned that people will be less likely to listen to a non-human? Are you afraid that, if you reveal that you really are an unattainable idea that no human can achieve, they'll stop even trying to be like you?"

"All valid concerns, but not the actual cause for the secrecy," you reply. Is she trying to maneuver into blackmailing you? "I maintain secrecy because knowledge of my origins could endanger the world."

"...How much danger are we talking about here?"

You gaze at her silently, both eyebrows raised.

"...Fuck." She looks away, seemingly lost in thought.

After a minute, she turns her gaze back to you. "All right. I'll help your goddamn Scooby Gang look for clues. But like I said, even Protectorate heroes get a salary. You do, and you have no personal expenses." She folds her arms. "Even if the Guild doesn't have a tax-funded budget, you can hire me as a consultant out of your own pocket. And frankly? That's underpriced. The PRT paid me a hundred grand just for my insight on Leviathan's corpse, you know." She gazes at you. "Final offer."

"Fair enough. But for the record, I don't think you're going to regret it."

You mean it, of course. Now, with how much money you know the Undersiders have made lately, it's not like they're going to be struggling for cash any time over the coming year… but, if it had been really necessary, you no doubt could have leveraged your pull in the PRT to give Tattletale a big payout with five zeroes. It would have set a bad precedent, paying huge sums to mercenaries and villains while heroes didn't even get a token salary from the Guild, but you could have done it.

This, however, is better. Not because you're saving the PRT and/or the Guild money, but because you meant what you is jaded, cynical, manipulative, at times cruel, at times selfish… But she really is Taylor's friend. She really did want to help her, and she still cares. While she is not a good person, you believe she is not as far from becoming a good person as she thinks… and you are, if only thanks to experience, an excellent judge of character. You were also telling the truth about Taylor being a good influence on her.

You'd have offered giving her your salary from the start, but letting her do it herself helped her save face and keep her pride, whether or not she saw through it. Now, there's someone you need to put her in touch with…

He dutifully followed in step with the rest of Lord Walston's retinue, as the national leader of the King's Men was greeted by Galahad, leader of the Glasgow branch.

"Thank you for arriving so promptly, sir. We all know how valuable your time is."

"Nonsense, old friend," Lord Walston said with practiced magnanimity. "What is the point of the King's Men, if not to maintain law and order across Britain? I could hardly stay in my office while terrorists and brutes threaten this beautiful city."

"Well said, sir," said Galahad. "Has the roster of the special task force been finalized?"

"Indeed. The bureaucrats have finally seen sense, meaning that Whisper, Major Fortitude, and Sweeper will indeed be joining its ranks."

"Then I believe the scum has no chance, sir."

"That is precisely the intent." Lord Walston then turned around to face him. "Kong, you will be meeting the combined task force at seven o'clock. I will be expecting your full report, in person, by nine."

By nine o'clock sharp, of course, he was reporting to Lord Walston. "Samson is somewhat hot-blooded, and likely to rush into danger regardless of orders; placing him in Jaguar's unit should work best, as Jaguar will be able to make use of him. Wolfblade and Vermillion must not be placed in the same unit, or their friction will become unmanageable. Masterwork could greatly enhance Samson and Sweeper's effectiveness by building them a warhammer and an armor, respectively. Main Jane, Ambush and Leonine should be placed and together and made to train intensively for two or three days in combining their powers, as an effective synergy between them would be a major asset." He almost hesitated before adding: "Oculus and Whisper, if made to work together, will be able to eliminate almost any foe on the battlefield. Lastly, if Sweeper benefits both from Masterwork's armor and personal protection from Bodyguard, then he will be able to provide air support at almost no risk to himself, forcing most enemies to fight defensively."

Lord Walston had not looked up from the papers on his desk during his report, but Johnny Kong knew from experience that his recommendations had been heard, and would in all likelihood be applied. However… It was the duty of a subordinate to warn his superiors when they were making a mistake. Blind, silent obedience was no virtue. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted," said Lord Walston, still not looking up.

"I believe it is a mistake to include Whisper, Major Fortitude and Sweeper in this operation, sir. The purpose of the task force is to pacify the Glasgow unrest by taking out the worst terrorists, villains, and ex-secessionists. However, the region cannot be pacified so long as the people resent the government, and even if the task force eliminates fifty villains, a climate of fear and anger will cause sixty more to trigger. Whisper, while loyal, has a power with no non-lethal use; making frequent use of it will escalate violence, convincing our enemies to go all-out in every situation as they believe they have nothing to lose. Major Fortitude, while powerful and imposing, is also well known for his vocal and unflattering opinions concerning Scotland and its natives; even if he is ordered to keep those opinions to himself, his presence here will be seen as a slap in the face. As for Sweeper, his power inevitably tends to involve severe collateral damage. If he is made to frequently battle ground-bound opponents in a dense urban area, civilian casualties could reach the triple digits in time."

Lord Walston's expression had not changed one iota at any point. Really, it seemed to him that the top leadership of the King's Men (along with several prominent political figures) had over the past decade turned themselves into near-parodies of the stereotypical British stiff upper lip, along with other old clichés, as if attempting to summon back a lost golden age. But then, the current political climate seemed to love stereotypes - the men in the PR department certainly thought so, considering the costumes he had been made to wear on duty. Or the Fu Manchu mustache he had been encouraged to grow, ridiculous as he thought it was.

"Noted. Return to your duties."

He knew what that meant, of course. His qualms had been heard, and would be promptly ignored. In Lord Walston's mind, any Scot (or Wallon, or Irishman, or immigrant) who wasn't unquestionably loyal the United Kingdom was scum, and using half-measures or compromises with scum was a sign of moral weakness. The task force would go on as planned, killing a lot of villains and far too many civilians, leaving the region no more stable than before.

Which made no difference in his actions, of course. Blind, silent obedience was no virtue… but outright disobedience, the sort of disloyalty that shattered organizations and nations? That, no doubt, was a vice.

"I want to make it clear, in case it hasn't been already, that you are not required to help with this," you say. "We are all very grateful for your help so far, but your first priority should be to make sure you recover."

"It's OK," says Forecast, AKA Dinah Alcott. She's been given a clean bill of health - thankfully, she only spent a month in Coil's clutches. "Director Piggot warned me to save up questions for this. I can ask eight or nine without getting a headache, and I'll have more tomorrow." She pauses. "I looked at the numbers every day when I was imprisoned, to see if I would get rescued. The odds weren't good. Then you showed up, and, after you killed Leviathan, they were above 99%. I looked at the numbers when the Simurgh arrived, and they were terrible, then you won anyway. You make things better than my power thinks they can get. But… my power still tells me things you need to know." Her expression grows serious. "The PRT asked me about the end of the world. It's probably going to happen this year. It might happen in eleven years. There's a 5% chance it doesn't happen at all. If you die," her voice grows smaller, "the odds it doesn't happen are less than 1%."

You put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I wish someone as young as you didn't have to worry about this sort of thing. But you handle it with more strength than many grown-ups would. Again, thank you."

"It's OK. I know this is important."

The Guild, via teleconference, asks its questions. Questions like your odds of stopping the Slaughterhouse Nine for good before they make another 100 victims (virtually nil, unfortunately). The odds of stopping the Nine before they make another 1000 victims (not good, but at least realistic). The odds of things turning a certain way, depending on certain approaches, where Skylance and Madame Lustucru are concerned. It's only eight questions (you insist on having Forecast rest afterwards), but it helps establish plans.

And there will be more questions to ask tomorrow.

"Yeah, Unexpected is definitely a Bonesaw puppet by now," said Tattletale. "Thing is, they captured him using Hatchet Face's power; the Siberian didn't fight. So, the damage she caused to the wall? That's from being restless and bored. The Nine have been laying low more than usual, and it's making some of them frustrated."

"Call me heartless, but I just don't feel that sorry for them," said Silver Crusader as Strider brought them to the next location on his Trail Of Crumbs. The bloodied little chalet was only slightly less horrifying than the chamber of horrors in Ottawa. "Glad to have you on board, by the way. From what I've heard, we can really use your kind of help."

"Don't mention it," she grumbled. Then, somewhat queasy, she observed the butchered family. "Um. I know what I said about Unexpected, and I stand by it… but I'm pretty sure they have their ninth recruit anyway."

"Joy of joys. What makes you say that?"

"The parents… they were slaughtered by the kids. Without resistance, and without hesitation. They weren't tied up or anything, they practically welcomed it." She managed to somehow grow even paler than the scene had already made her. "The Nine have a high-end Master."

Last edited: Jul 27, 2020

140

sun tzu

Jun 23, 2016

View discussion

Threadmarks Bring Down the Sky

View content

sun tzu

Nov 26, 2016

#35

BRING DOWN THE SKY

The next five days settle into a routine of sort. You spend six hours a day rescuing Gray Boy victims. You patrol Brockton Bay, which has been relatively quiet overall. You check up on Weaver, Noelle, and Naguib. You coordinate with the Guild and its allies, putting together plans for dealing with Skylance and Madame Lustucru. You give a speech in La Havane, about restoring rule of law, restoring freedom, and joining together in a time of need.

And then there's the time you get called in for an emergency in Detroit. When you arrive, the fires have already engulfed half a city block, and are spreading to the next. A quick application of weather control powers lowers temperatures in the neighborhood by twenty kelvin and unleashes a brief but torrential rain. A quick application of more martial powers results in the arrest of the twelve supervillains whose fight had both started the fire and prevented the fire department from dealing with it quickly. Further application of your abilities to search-and-rescue helps keep casualties to a minimum.

"Calling for outside help like this is something Protectorate leaders and PRT directors usually try to avoid," Dragon explains. "Not just because it reflects poorly on them, but because they know everyone else is just as overworked and overextended. Still, not counting S-class situations, Eidolon's intervened outside of the State of Washington eighteen times last year. Legend and Alexandria have intervened outside of New York and California twelve and ten times, respectively."

Your short visit to Detroit is far from the only newsworthy event of that day. In New York City, one of the Big Apple's gang wars was suddenly ended when the local Protectorate, led by Legend, launched a series of highly-successful raids on the three most violent supervillain gangs in town, capturing a total of 43 villains - practically 6% of the city's total population of parahuman criminals. Dragon has deployed her new "Azazel" suit model, armored with omni-metal and enhanced with some ideas she claims she got from Leviathan's autopsy. Construction officially begins on the Brockton Bay Bridge. The CUI launches the first manned space mission in over a decade, and are talking about a tinkertech-based permanent space station and a future mission to Mars. In Myanmar, one of the warlords recently defeated by Storm Rider has been confirmed as still alive, and now marching under Storm Rider's banner.

And then, there's the developing situation in Kabul. Probably worth a visit, once you clear it with the PRT.

"We are, of course, honored by your visit." Starfall has a good poker face, but you can tell he is unhappy and at least a little nervous. One of the more successful parahuman warlords of Afghanistan, he was quick to move into Kabul after you removed the Purifier. To his credit, his approach so far has mostly consisted in winning hearts and minds by providing the city with needed supplies, but nevertheless, there are tensions. For this meeting, you also asked that representatives of what local authorities exist participate, but given Kabul's situation, they are limited - there isn't any genuine leadership in the city, at least not yet.

"The honor is all mine," you reply. "I know from experience, however, that simply toppling a tyrant is not enough to bring peace and prosperity. I still wish to provide help."

"And what sort of help did you have in mind?" The warlord is understandably suspicious.

"Well, that depends on what the city needs. I imagine it needs a proper administration, but my powers are unfortunately not much help in that regard."

"I have placed some of my trusted lieutenants in charge."

"Perhaps, Starfall. However, what makes a person useful and competent on the battlefield does not necessarily make them competent at running a city. I would suggest recruiting, or perhaps electing, leaders and bureaucrats from among the local population."

"I imagine, American, that you'd prefer a Western-style democracy."

You laugh at that. "I am no more American than I am Vietnamese, Starfall. But you are not entirely wrong. I believe that the purpose of governments is to serve the people. And while any type of government can be good or bad in a specific instance, my experience over the past century has led me to conclude that the most effective way of keeping the government dedicated to that purpose, is to give the people control over how they are governed - with the appropriate legal structures, of course.

"But, while I would be happy to discuss national constitutions, bills of rights, and legal codes, I imagine there are more concerns about water, food, and medicine." You gaze at him and the civilian advisers expectantly.

There's some looking around, then Starfall speaks. "Water is an issue. An actual lack of water is only a minor concern - rather, the problem is our devastated water infrastructure. People simply have no access to clean, running water. In terms of medicine, I understand local hospitals are low on antibiotics. When it comes to food and electricity… well, those aspects at least were handled competently by the Purifier; Kabul gets its power from hydroelectric dams and natural gas, and has a better grid than any other part of Afghanistan." Hardly surprising, considering how much the Purifier relied on his electronic surveillance network. "Food is generally purchased from the farmlands in the area. However…" Starfall's eyes narrow. "...the farmlands, the gas, the dams… all of those are vulnerable to outside attacks. With the Purifier gone, there are many who wish to exploit this city for their own greed."

Not that Starfall is entirely innocent of such things, of course. But there's warlord, and there's warlord. Everything you've seen suggests that, while Starfall is ambitious and ruthless, he has at least the basic decency and honor that make him a reasonable negotiating partner.

"I can personally create large doses of antibiotics, fill the city's biggest reservoirs with clean water, and provide you with enough gas to have a safety margin, at least," you say. "For the rest, however…" You give the warlord a penetrating look. "Your people need you, Starfall. Not because you have a strong power or because many parahumans have flocked to your banner, no - they need you because unlike the Purifier and some of the other warlords in this country, you do not treat them like expendable cattle, but as fellow human beings." You pause a moment, letting your words hang in the air. "So, be the champion that these people need you to be. Maintain peace and justice within the city. Protect the people's rights and freedom. Help them build proper government and administration. Fix the water infrastructure. Turn Kabul and its environs into a place where people can not only survive, but live. Be the legitimate defender of this city… and I will be proud to assist you against those who threaten it." You extend him a hand. "It is not my business to rule over nations, but it is my duty to defend good, legitimate governments. I believe you can help Kabul build one."

The next group of Gray Boy victims on your list is a trio of civilians in Toronto. This time, however, the PRT had a reason to want to coordinate with you.

Present at the location, beside the victims, are Dragon, Serum (a Protectorate cape with some healing abilities), the local PRT director with two agents, a team of paramedics, and two additional capes. The older one is a woman who identifies herself as Forza, leader of the Milan branch of the Legione Difesa (the Italian equivalent of the Protectorate). She introduces the younger cape:

"Leonardo, also of the Milan branch, triggered in recent weeks. His cape name is appropriate - we believe him to be the most versatile Tinker in Italy, probably Europe… and possibly the world," she says, only briefly glancing at Dragon. "I imagine I don't need to explain Tinker specializations to anyone here. Leonardo appears to have a variable specialization - he can consciously select it, though he needs 24 hours between changes." She gives you a moment to digest this information. "So far, he has tested multiple different specializations, and has proven comparable to some of the above-average Tinkers in every one. This includes force-fields, teleportation, sensors, beam weaponry, biotech, nanotech…"

"...but for the past few days, I've been experimenting with a chronotech specialty," the young man interrupts in Italian. "There are a lot limits to what it can do, but… I'm nearly positive that I can break the time-loops."

Forza briefly shoots him an annoyed glare before resuming in English. "As Leonard was saying, we believe that the tinkertech he has recently constructed could help free Gray Boy's victims. As such, in a spirit of goodwill and cooperation, we were hoping to assist the Protectorate with this matter."

Goodwill and cooperation… Well. If the briefing director Wayland gave you is to be trusted, a lot of people in the Legione Difesa very much wanted to keep their new wonder Tinker within national borders, and were opposed to meddling with the Protectorate's affairs. Leonardo apparently had to go over a few people's heads to get this jaunt authorized, and it is suspected that the Italian president - himself an internationalist who campaigned on a platform of European collaboration - personally leaned on some of the people involved to make this happen. Of course, if Italy's "Defense Legion" proceeds to help the Protectorate so visibly with a long-standing thorn in its paw, it will earn them significant prestige… and put wind in the internationalists' sails.

And, not any less importantly, it might help free people from a fate worse than death.

You smile, successively shaking Forza and Leonardo's hands. "You have our thanks. I have long said that the people of the world need to join hands and face the darkness; your coming here to lend assistance does you credit, and will give many renewed hope." Leonard seems positively star-struck, which is not surprising… but so long as it drives people to better themselves, you suppose there is little harm in some small degree of hero-worship.

With you effectively acting as "spotter", the Italian Tinker activates his experimental device. You couldn't even begin to explain the unconventional physics at play - Causality or Techno-Paladin might have better luck at it - but whatever it is, it seems to create a disruption in the mechanics of the time-loop, collapsing it and forcing time to proceed normally. You pull the sobbing victims out of the area (better safe than sorry) and offer them what comfort you can, while Serum tends to their injuries, before you turn back toward the Italian capes.

"As far as I can tell, there is no unexpected problem. Your device appears to work as intended. You have my congratulations and my thanks, Leonardo."

He blushes, and Dragon moves in to examine the results. "Remarkable. How frequently can it be used?"

"Er, well, messing with time isn't exactly trivial," he admits in heavily-accented English. "It's going to need, I dunno, thirty, forty, maybe fifty minutes to recharge? And I wouldn't want to use it more than four-five times in a row without giving it a thorough tune-up."

"Even so, it's remarkable," says Dragon. "If you and the Avatar both work on this, all the victims might be freed in less than two weeks - even sooner, if the Legione Difesa will allow me to take a look at your work and replicate it." She glances at Forza. "I believe we both have a lot to gain."

Forza sighs. "I'm not against it, and I'll see what I can do, but I know there will be objections. You know how it goes."

Leonardo's expression darkens as he shifts back to the Italian language. "Politics. We have a goddamn world to save, but noooo, some fucking idiots want us to stay in our corner, not giving help, not getting help, just so we can be a bunch of happy little fasci-"

"Leonardo!" Forza manages to inject surprising amount of authority in her voice, silencing him at once. "First of all, you're a hero now. Be a goddamn professional. Don't run that dumb mouth of yours without thinking. Second, it's a little more complicated than that."

"It generally is," you reply, "and I can certainly understand why some of your colleagues and countrymen would be skeptical. But he is not entirely wrong, either - we do need to save the world, and we cannot do it without joining forces. Though it seems to me that many understand that already. I've heard that there are plans to revive the European Brigade?"

Leonardo smiles excitedly at that and opens his mouth, but a glare from Forza convinces him to let her reply instead: "The Legion has sent another three of its members, but, it's still a joke. There are less heroes in the entire Brigade than there are in Genoa alone, and those who are there are on the weak end of parahuman power. It can't do anything meaningful on the European scene."

"Perhaps not right now, as it is," you concede. "However, will that still be true a month from now?"

Forza eyes you curiously. Leonard seems to be hanging on your every word. And nearby, the paramedics are taking care of three human beings who, until recently, were condemned to billions of years of unrelenting torture, and now have a chance at life again.

Part of the issue with tackling Skylance, of course, is that she'll see it coming. She can see the writing on the wall, and even if she didn't, her allies in the Yamato Party - the ultranationalist wing of Japan's government - will warn her ahead of time. That issue can be mitigated, however, by relying on a large enough window of opportunity: Instead of issuing the Guild an authorization to enter national territory for one day to deal with Skylance, the Japanese Diet issues the organization an authorization lasting an entire week. Meaning that Skylance knows you're coming, but not the exact day you're coming.

Another issue is that this is not only a battle of fists and energy blasts, but a battle for hearts and minds. Skylance is a demagogue who's had years to control what the two million remaining refugees in the camps hear and see, and she's had days to shape the narrative of the incoming clash. Even if you do defeat and arrest her (no mean feat, considering how many capes have triggered in the camps and subsequently joined her forces) then you may end up with a situation where millions of Japanese citizens are ready to rise up and violently protest her incarceration - a situation that the country is nowhere near stable enough to handle. Handled poorly, this could actually empower Skylance to finally have her revolution and take over the nation - the exact opposite of your goal.

That issue has a major mitigating factor: The people of Japan love you. You dealt the deathblow to Leviathan, which on its own made you the favorite hero of the country in general and the refugees in particular. You killed the Simurgh, who was the second most-hated Endbringer there. You've humiliated Empire 88, whose persecution of Japanese immigrants has long been a beloved talking point for the Yamato Party. You've defanged the typhoon that was headed toward their coasts. While there have been some attempts by Skylance and her ilk to poison the well (by, for instance, implying that your ability to destroy Endbringers who were attacking an American city somehow proves that the Western powers deliberately allowed Kyushu to be destroyed), those attempts have had fairly limited success.

But even so… you would not wish to rely solely on your good reputation for this. No, there needs to be more.

Surdoué was a big help there: Working with Japanese officials, he became aware of a useful legal loophole concerning which parahumans are permitted to enter national territory. Tattletale was helpful in working with Japanese intelligence, who have their own sources within the refugee camps. The support of a few key individuals was obtained. And of course, Forecast has meticulously vetted every plan. For such a young girl, she is showing a remarkable sense of responsibility; you hope that she still has some childhood left.

Intelligence-gathering, planning, preparation… and it has all led to this moment. You are hovering a dozen feet above the ground. Around you are the rest of the Guild (well, most of them)... and close to a hundred capes from Japan's military and law enforcement, selected for a number of factors including powers, the ability to wield them with minimum collateral damage, and how much they could be trusted not to side with Skylance. The latter's forces, gathering before you at the edge of the camp, counts practically as many parahumans - a testament to her ability to recruit among the millions of refugees.

She cannot afford to completely avoid this confrontation - if Japan's social services regain unimpeded access to the camps without having to go through her, they can greatly improve the refugees' situation, get tens of thousands of them out of the camps within the first week, and wreck the narrative she's been feeding these people of them having been abandoned by their government and the world. And despite her vaunted Mover abilities, she cannot assume that it will be impossible to arrest and imprison her.

Which is not to say that she has no options. Skylance is no fool.

The first one to speak is a man wearing a sleek black power armor with blue accents and white wings. Wing Warrior, as the Tinker is called, is the most decorated cape in the Japanese military; you understand that his power makes him particularly apt at creating tinkertech that replicates parahuman powers he has observed in action. "Skylance!" he calls out, his voice amplified and spread widely by Harmonic. "You stand accused of sabotaging relief efforts, assaulting employees of the State, and multiple counts of murder. If you have the slightest shred of decency left in you, then surrender now and spare us all unnecessary violence!"

She chuckles. Like Wing Warrior, she is benefitting from voice amplification - tinkertech in the choker she wears, one of several gadgets provided by her minions. "How very typical. Relief efforts? Murder? This corrupt government has abandoned the people of Kyushu, treated them like dirt. I have only done what had to be done to protect them. But you're right about one thing, though - I have no intention of fighting you. To battle here, whether I win or lose, would endanger my people, and unlike you, I am not willing to risk turning them into collateral damage." She stares defiantly. "So go on. Arrest me. I believe in the Japanese people. I trust in them to stand up against injustice."

That's the smart play, of course. Not using her massive cape army to fight you, but instead using such a bit of political judo, acting like the big selfless heroine making a principled stand - banking on both her supporters in the camps and the ultra-nationalists across the country to rise up and force the government to release her. After that, she'd become practically untouchable. Dinah - Forecast - predicted odds above 99% that she would try this tactic.

And that's when a fleet of vans suddenly arrives.

The vans abruptly stop. Capes begin spilling out - about thirty of them. One, in particular, is immediately recognized by everyone: Fuji-Sama.

Much like Skylance, Fuji-Sama is an A-lister villain associated with the Japanese far-right. He used to be a promising member of the Yamato Party, and a favored candidate for the Diet, before a scandal linked him to terrorist acts aimed at Korean businesses in Japan. This caused him to trigger as a particularly powerful Brute, able to completely ignore any physical effect on his body that he doesn't want to be affected by and exert as much force while pushing something as needed to keep going.

Since triggering, he has taken to leading a gang of parahuman racists - essentially, Japan's equivalent of Empire 88 - with which he controls a "foreigner-free" small chunk of Tokyo, harassing and terrorizing foreigners while doing what he can to become the face of the ultra-nationalistic movement. ...An effort that apparently included naming himself after Mount Fuji, as well as over-eating and dressing like a masked sumo wrestler despite having no sumotori background. It may look silly, but the man is dangerous to underestimate.

His ambitions are inherently political, which leads him to put a greater focus on image than most villains… and to him, Skylance is the competition. The one always better-positioned than him to control the far right. Which is why right now, he is raising a loudspeaker: "Skylance! When I heard these foreign scum were coming here, I came as fast as I could. Had you chosen to fight, we would have fought by your side against the invaders. Since you are choosing to let yourself be taken in instead, then you need not worry - on my honor as champion of this land, I will take up your fight and defend the people of Kyushu!"

They're both playing to the gallery, of course - trying to influence the public. Lots of people listening, some cameras… it's a battle of image and narrative. Skylance is trying to set herself up as the gracious martyr, goading the people into clamoring for her liberation and putting her in charge. Fuji-Sama, meanwhile, is now trying to set himself up to be the leader who heroically takes charge with her gone, saving the movement in its darkest hour. And neither of them can allow the other to succeed: If Skylance does what she intended, then she'll likely end up in control of the country, with Fuji-Sama's ambitions ground to dust. If Fuji-Sama succeeds, he can take over everything Skylance has built and mold it in his own image, turning her into a secondary figure.

Which is what you were counting on, really. One of the Japanese capes selected for your team has managed to convince Fuji-Sama he was a mole for him years ago; he simply told the villain when your attack was planned, and mentioned the concerns about Skylance potentially turning the situation to her advantage. Forecast gave a very high likelihood of Fuji-Sama reacting with this exact gambit.

Any trace of smugness has been wiped off Skylance's face, as she realizes her brilliant political maneuver is now being hijacked by a party crasher. She hesitates for a while, considering her options, then calls out Wing Warrior again: "You claim that you're here to arrest me for some trumped-up crimes, but you're going to let him walk away?"

You've already discussed this. Wing Warrior knows better than to rise to the bait. Everyone remains silent.

"He is a murderer, and a corrupt politician to boot!" she shouts in an angry tone. "Is that your plan?! To remove me, the true defender of these people, so you can put a fake one like him in charge, and let him exploit them?!"

That, of course, is more than Fuji-Sama can allow. "Everything I have done, I did to defend the purity of our motherland! Every step of the way, I have fought for the Japanese people, against the foreigners who violate our soil! I am out there fighting the good fight, and that means I have to do whatever it takes, unlike someone who seems content to stay in the camps and rule like a queen. You can stay here and fight for the people you claim to protect, or you can give up and surrender rather than face the Avatar in battle, but don't choose to act like a coward and then pretend you're being noble."

And just like that, Skylance's plan A is in shambles. She and Fuji-Sama preach very similar messages of fanatical nationalism, bigotry, and fear. There is a vast intersection among their supporters. They've usually tried to stay out of each other's way to focus on the greater foe that was the government, but now, when they're playing for all the marbles, the knives are coming out, which hurts both their positions. Skylance can't allow herself to be taken in now - even if Fuji-Sama fails to rally a solid majority of her supporters under his banner, he can still redirect their attention, make sure that the popular outrage over her arrest isn't enough to free her before she's Birdcaged. Now, instead, she needs to fight and win.

You've been an observer of politics since the dawn of humanity. This is all familiar territory. You helped plan this out, along with some very smart people and some powerful Thinkers, Forecast and Tattletale included.

Skylance grits her teeth, then gazes at Fuji-Sama. "You claim to be fighting the foreigners, Fuji-Sama? Then prove it. Back your words with deeds. If my friends and I make our stand here, will you fight by our side?"

"How could we do any less?" From Fuji-Sama's perspective, it's win-win. If your side is defeated, then all the people who follow Skylance will credit him for being the cavalry that came to save their heroine. If you win, then Skylance will get sent to the Birdcage; he, with his connections (and technically having no actual murder charge against him), will at worst be sent to a prison from which he will be broken out if he can't escape on his own - and besides, with his power, he considers himself invulnerable.

So far, so good. This was your plan A. Plan B was messier.

"In all honesty," you say in fluent Japanese with a perfect Kyushu accent, your communication powers transmitting your voice in a wide range, "I think the people of Japan in general and Kyushu in particular deserve so much better than the two of you."

The last thing Skylance wants right now is to give you a venue to make a speech of your own - you've amply demonstrated your charisma after Leviathan's death. Which is why she immediately proceeds to open the hostilities by creating a portal aimed at you.

Skylance's power lets her open portals with a diameter of up to five meters, with a wide enough range to cover the entire planet. However, the two ends of the portal are stationary relative to each other; since the Earth is round and rotating, that means that when one end of the portal is stationary relative to the ground and the second end is thousands of miles away, that second end is moving at immense speeds relative to its surroundings.

From the looks of it, the other end of Skylance's portal is somewhere toward the other side of the planet… but a good distance below ground, considering the massive flow of magma now rushing toward you at supersonic speed.

Well. Things like this are the precise reason you were keeping half your power pool invested in mental super-speed.

The stream of molten rock streaking toward you could devastate a city block. You effortlessly parry it with a force-field. The shock is still enough to shake the ground. And then the battle begins.

Dragon's new Azazel suit, as intended, shoots four micro-missiles at once; in an instant, they take down four of Skylance's capes - with containment foam, with knockout gas, in one case with plain concussive force. All four of those were determined during the planning phase to be too dangerous to allow in the field, due to their specific powers. One of them has a Stranger power that prevented even Dragon from detecting him; you had to briefly extend your cosmic awareness's range to find him and silently give her his position before the battle started. ...Your mental acceleration lets you appreciate just how quickly Dragon reacted. In fact, that reaction time was definitely superhuman. Did she program the Azazel to shoot the moment it detected the battle starting?

Skylance opens a portal beneath her feet, falling through it to reappear a good distance above the battlefield. A standard tactic - she prefers to spend her battles falling from portal to portal, blasting her enemies from the sky.

Her minions rush into battle. Tattletale was given access to the Guild's files on them, and the Guild was given access to what the Japanese authorities had, so you generally have a good idea of what they can do.

Fuji-Sama's minions rush into battle.

The Guild and the Japanese heroes rush into battle.

And then, Skylance's minions are struck from behind by a variety of attacks. When they realize something's going on, they see about two dozen Japanese men and women, in civilian garb, who until then had been hidden among the refugees - all of them capes, and now attacking the villains. These infiltrators were placed within the camps under the cover of night by Strider. Sunblade's idea.

Among the Guild's capes, Voodoo - a member of the Los Angeles Protectorate - winces as she stabs herself in the arm, and then gazes in Skylance's direction. The next instant, Voodoo's power kicks in: Her injury disappears, transferred to Skylance.

One of Skylance's lieutenants, much like the Slaughterhouse Nine's Crawler, is a Trump whose powers evolve over time. Your intelligence suggests that her current array includes super-strength, nigh-invulnerability, and the ability to shoot rays that induce complete paralysis (including in the heart and respiratory system). Which is why the pre-arranged tactics have you blasting her first. You do so after quickly taking some altitude (since you don't want to hit the refugee camp behind her); your blast leaves her twitching at the bottom of a crater.

Your mental acceleration allows you to perceive an enemy speedster, with a bandolier full of grenades, running toward your allies. Your communication powers warn your own side's speedsters, and Multi-Hit manages to shoot him in the leg before spraying him with containment foam.

A few more moves are made in those short instants, and then a veritable melee breaks out.

You make sure to keep an eye on Skylance. She can be utterly devastating in the role of flying artillery, and you are the only one who can actually counter her strongest attacks. She portals to a completely different spot above the battlefield, hoping to avoid whatever injured her arm. To no avail: Voodoo, having stabbed herself in the other arm, is able to quickly locate her and transfer that injury to her, too.

Fuji-Sama, looking utterly unconcerned, strides across the battlefield, wielding a gigantic hammer that must weigh at least ten times as much as he does. Others quickly get out of his way, but when he manages to get dangerously close to one of the heroes, Dragon positions herself before him. He hammers her into the ground, looking slightly surprised that her suit's armature, made out of pure omni-metal, is only dented rather than utterly destroyed.

A hero is struck down by an enemy Blaster. Strider quickly teleports him back to safety - namely, a hospital in Tokyo where a team of healing-capable Japanese capes are standing ready to handle those injured in this fight.

Multi-Hit manages to foam several opponents. Laser Fist, Sunblade and Iron Snake are taking down several of Fuji-Sama's men. Narwhal protects several teammates from enemy Blasters. Wing Warrior leads a devastating charge.

At the edge of your awareness, you can feel an attempt to take over your mind. One of the Masters in Skylance's forces. You're immune, but your allies are not, so you make sure to quickly knock him out with a blast.

...After which you have to hurry and position yourself to deflect another supersonic lava stream from the injured Skylance, who was aiming toward the bulk of your forces. Some of her own men would definitely have been caught in the blast, but you imagine that her top priority right now is stopping whoever's cutting her remotely. You need a couple of seconds to handle the massive lava flow and prevent it from killing anyone on the ground, which leaves Skylance enough time to portal away - this time, far from the battlefield and out of sight.

Dragon has disengaged from Fuji-Sama, and gets back to taking down the most dangerous enemy capes; another Guild hero, Hazard, tries to take on the obese Brute with little success. A Japanese hero uses his Master power to temporarily make an enemy Striker mistake enemies for allies and vice-versa, to great effect. An invisible enemy cape (apparently) stabs Silver Crusader, before being quickly taken down by a Japanese hero. Doctor Metal and two others find themselves unable to move and suffocating when a Shaker turns the air around them viscous, but quickly recover when the Shaker is taken down by Wing Warrior. Voodoo, putting her hand on Silver Crusader, attempts to transfer his injury to Fuji-Sama; when that fails, she transfers it instead to an enemy flying Blaster, who comes tumbling down.

Switching from communication to enhanced senses, you manage to locate three hostile Strangers. You take them down quickly. Skylance seems in no hurry to return, and your side is decisively winning - between the ambush and the early elimination of the most dangerous enemy capes, you have been able to maintain momentum from the very start. Time to finish this.

You take down three more troublesome foes, then, flanked by Wing Warrior, you focus your attention on Fuji-Sama. He's been distracted for a while with Hazard, but he's finally managed to land a hit; Hazard is a fairly high-level Brute, but even so, it looks like his arm was broken. The Guildsman manages to disengage when you and Wing Warrior land in front of Fuji-Sama.

The latter grins at you. "It looks like Skylance was a coward after all," he says; he knows that even now, between tinkertech and distant camera crews, events are being recorded. "As for you, I do not fear you. No matter how many times foreigners beat down the Japanese people, we always-"

Letting go of mental acceleration and enhanced senses, you use your auxiliary power pool to completely lock down any form of interplanar movement in a fifteen-feet radius.

It's the same technique you've been using to free Gray Boy's victims. Whatever it is that powers parahuman abilities, it comes from a different plane. Right now, for just a few seconds, Fuji-Sama has no powers at all.

Neither does Wing Warrior. His power armor, however, remains perfectly functional. "Put a sock in it!" he calls out, his armored fist clocking the villain right in the jaw. (While also delivering an electric shock and injecting a knockout drug. The Japanese Tinker was taking no chances with this plan.)

Fuji-Sama, missing his mask and a few teeth, collapses. You suspect one or more videos will be playing on the Internet quite a bit in the near future.

Enemy capes are starting to surrender. You help with some quick mop-up, but then…

"Avatar, the minion has finished bandaging her arms, and she's moved to another room. One with a window. I was able to glimpse the skyline. That safehouse is in Kyoto!"

Centro. She's been immensely helpful with the plan. Between your own abilities and Dragon's satellite surveillance, figuring out where Skylance and Fuji-Sama sleep at night wasn't so hard. Attacking them in their homes would have caused problems, of course. Having Strider silently teleport in Centro, letting her brush against them and add them to her "list", was another matter. Her ability to keep track of everything they were seeing, hearing, and saying for the past few days has been immensely helpful (You are thankful that, with the massive wave of immigrants hitting the Americas after Kyushu, Centro decided to learn Japanese). Among other things, Centro was helping Voodoo get a bead on Skylance whenever she portaled, and would have warned you if she was returning to the battlefield.

And now, comparing what she saw to pictures of the Kyoto skyline Dragon is sending her, Centro manages to narrow down the general area of the city where Skylance's safehouse is. It's a lucky break that you can locate her this quickly, but with Centro's power, you would have found her sooner or later, no matter what.

And so, you quickly head to Kyoto. The area where you think her safehouse is remains large - as large as Brockton Bay. No matter; she is still in costume, with bandaged, bloody arms. Switching to enhanced senses and mental super-speed, you begin sweeping the area.

A short while later, you barge into the safehouse. Skylance gazes at you, bug-eyed. "How…?"

"It doesn't matter where you go, Skylance. I will always find you. You cannot run, and you cannot hide. Not this time."

She stands up, glaring at you, her expression one of pure hatred. "You son of a bitch. You had no right to come here. I've worked for years, getting rid of troublemakers, protecting those people! Every bit of authority I had there, I fucking earned!"

"You were keeping those people from getting the help they actually needed," you reply. Just to be on the safe side, you've read the minds of some relevant Japanese officials (with their permission) to confirm this beforehand. "You were doing it for yourself, Skylance. You spread hate, fear and misery for the sake of your ambition. And now, it ends."

Actually defeating Skylance at this juncture is in itself trivial. She is quickly knocked out, and fitted with a neck collar - one based on those Dragon used during Simurgh attacks, which will always broadcast her location and can be detonated at will.

But there's still much to do. You promptly return to the camp.

The crowd of refugees - thousands upon thousands of them - are pressing closer, now that the actual battle is done. A lot of them are jeering at the heroes. Most of the jeering pauses, however, when you arrive.

The next part is no less important than taking Skylance down. With your communication powers, you can now address not only the thousands in this crowd, but all two million refugees in the camp.

"People of Kyushu. This is the Avatar speaking. In recent weeks, it was I who delivered the deathblow to Leviathan and killed the Simurgh. I have stopped fires, droughts and storms. I have fought Empire 88 in America, the Purifier in Kabul, and Moord Nag in Namibia. I was part of the effort that liberated Santiago de Cuba.

"I have made it my mission to bring back hope to this world. As part of that mission, I am working with this world's many brave heroes to fight those who feed on misery and despair.

"For years, Skylance has been running the refugee camps. She told you she was protecting you. She told you everyone else had let you down. She told you that your continued plight was the doing of your government, and that you had to turn to her for leadership instead.

"The truth is, Skylance was the greatest contributor to your plight these years. All of the supplies that reach this camp are sent by charities and the government - by the rest of your country looking out for you - but Skylance would not allow them inside the camp, seizing those supplies to redistribute them herself, as if that earned her the credit. The reason the rest of the country has not been working faster to give you all new homes, is because Skylance has been blocking their efforts at every step of the way. She believed that the camps could give her power, with their parahumans joining her army.

"No. More. Skylance will be made to answer for her crimes - and they are many, I assure you. As for you, you are going to receive at last true, honest help. Housing efforts are underway; civil services can provide homes to tens of thousands of you in the first week, and to hundreds of thousands over the coming months. In the future - not a distant, nebulous future, but one within grasp - the refugee camps will be a thing of the past. Until they are, you will be receiving proper help. Even today, massive convoys of supplies will be entering the camps - bringing electric generators, gas with which to power them, medicine, clothing, food, clean water. Some of those supplies are provided by your own country; some, by the very foreign powers that Skylance wanted you to hate and despise." It took effort to convince the American and Canadian governments to dedicate some funds to foreign aid. Of course, your own matter-creation powers helped in many respects.

"The Sundering killed so many, destroyed so much, and left innumerable scars. It is my hope that after today, some of those scars can begin to heal. It was certainly that hope that brought these men and women back here." Your communication power now let everyone see and hear the two dozen capes who infiltrated the camp to set up the ambush. They have now put their uniforms back on. They begin to speak:

"I'm Tsunami. I was a little girl when Leviathan killed everyone I knew. Stayed in the camps for a while, ran away, kept running the world over. I ended up in Brockton Bay, in America; I was part of the battle when Leviathan fucking died. These days, I'm working with the Brockton Bay Protectorate, but I came here to free the camps from Skylance."

"I'm Revel. I used to live in Fukuoka. I was lucky - I had family in America, and they had me brought out of the camps before Skylance took over. I've been a member of the Chicago Protectorate for years now. When the Avatar and the Guild asked for my help taking down Skylance, I couldn't possibly say no."

"I'm Starburst. I was from Nagasaki. I managed to get accepted by a university in Tokyo, so I was not in Kyushu during the Sundering… but my entire family was. Every single one of them died. I dropped out. I wandered. I ended up in Australia. When I started to get my life back together, I became a hero in Brisbane. I came here because… because it was my one chance to help. I hadn't been able to do anything for my family, but I could do this."

Several more speak in turn. Not all of them were from Kyushu. Some simply fell on hard times when the Sundering shattered Japan's economy, and emigrated, but all of them are heroes in countries the Protectorate has good relations with.

That was one of your aces in the hole. Skylance was going to know about the Guild, and to an extent about the deployed heroes from the military and police. But Surdoué was able to find a loophole in Japanese law that makes it very easy for a Japanese national to enter national soil without needing any sort of approval from the Diet, regardless of whether or not they are a parahuman working for the government of another country. So you and the Guild gathered these heroes, and asked for their help taking Skylance down.

Another ace in the hole is now arriving in a limo, flanked by bodyguards. There are many gasps as the people recognize the Japanese Emperor - though the man stays away from politics, he is still very much a national symbol, and his speeches have often called on the people to maintain hope and support the refugees, among other things. The very sort of people who support the far-right in this country are also the people who revere him the most, despite his deliberate lack of political positions. As such, when he shows up, gives a moving speech, and offers his thanks to the Guild in general and to you in particular, it strongly affects their narrative. Getting him on board had been a challenge, but you were able to convince him that his showing up here could greatly help to prevent riots and heal the nation.

You speak again. "Not everything Skylance said was wrong. She said you could not count on any form of outside help, and that was a self-serving lie. But she also frequently said that you had to stand by each other, help your neighbor get up when they fall down - and that was true, will remain true, and has always been true in every society in every age. We all fought here today with the hope of bringing to you the help you need, and we will ensure that your situation improves at last, but there can be no substitute for the kindness of neighbors. Everything I have seen and heard tells me that such kindness has been commonplace in the camps, and in that, you can take pride. I have little doubt that even a good number of the parahumans who worked for Skylance were doing it not for the sake of her endless ambition, but because they believed it was the best way to help their neighbors. They will be judged on a case-by-case basis, and many will be welcome to work as the heroes Japan greatly needs." Though you imagine the government will strive to keep them working in different cities.

"People of Kyushu! You have suffered more than anyone ever should. Even now, there will be struggles. But it is my promise to you that, following the events of this day, things will finally get better. I believe in the kindness that human beings show each other, and I believe that kindness will help carry that promise."

After that, Wing Warrior does his own speech. It's somewhat more practical, while also carrying a touch of patriotic fervor while acknowledging the help of foreign heroes. Regardless, you spend most of the day helping out with the camps.

Fuji-Sama's mouth is still somewhat bloody, but even with his missing teeth, he manages to look smug. "You think any of this matters? You think you can stop me? That was a very nice trick you pulled there, but what's to stop me from just walking out? No prison can hold me. Or keep me out, if I want to free my men. I'll regroup my forces. Do you think that a pretty video of Wing Warrior punching me will turn people away from my cause? I cannot be stopped, foreigner, and I will purge the likes of you from my homeland."

"So you say," you reply. "However, you are incorrect. Imprisoning you is perfectly doable."

"The Birdcage? They'll never let you put me there. No matter what people accuse my faithful followers of, my hands are clean of any crime sufficient to send me to that place."

"Not the Birdcage. Another option." You give him a level gaze. "You see, even with the explosive collar around her neck, the authorities were concerned about Skylance using her powers to escape after capture. So, the Guild went to the right judge, and obtained special permission to detain, in the name of the Japanese government, any villain who was apprehended over the course of our operation on Japanese soil, until they were brought to trial. Which includes you." He blinks. "As it happens, I have some ability to travel between worlds. I will be dropping you on an uninhabited one for the duration. You are, effectively, a proof of concept for this imprisonment method, which may in time replace the Birdcage, if Tinkers manage to replicate my planar travel abilities."

Fuji-Sama stares at you blankly, the color draining from his face. You will be dropping him and Skylance on the same Earth where you left Ash Beast… though, just to be safe, on different continents each.

Skylance and Fuji-Sama are down. Madame Lustucru is next.

Last edited: Nov 26, 2016

153

sun tzu

Nov 26, 2016

View discussion

Threadmarks Lustucru Doit Mourir

View content

sun tzu

Apr 23, 2017

#36

LUSTUCRU DOIT MOURIR

[X] Liberating Gray Boy victims, as per his established routine.

[X] Pushing through the integration of some choice new recruits into the Guild, so as to be able to deploy them against Madame Lustucru.

The next three days are extremely busy. As should be.

"Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't have enough work as is," Chevalier explains. "Even putting administrative work aside, keeping Philadelphia in one piece is a never-ending battle. But… I believe in what you and the Guild are doing. In less than two weeks, you've drastically improved the stability of the entire Caribbean region and East Asia. You've improved the lives of millions of people. You've given millions of others hope, and you're actually encouraging national governments to work with each other." He pauses. "I've given it careful consideration. I believe that a week where I spend six days leading the Philadelphia Protectorate and one day assisting the Guild will be more productive than a week entirely devoted to my city."

"Chicago's situation is much the same," Myrddin explains. Despite his wizard costume, you're still not sensing any trace of magic from him - just the usual interplanar movements characteristic of parahuman abilities. "And much like my colleague, I desire to be a part of this grand venture. The Guild was always a company of grand heroes, but now, it is turning into the spearhead of hope, a modern Round Table. I believe our place, our destiny, is fighting by your side, striking down the hope-eaters of the world!"

Narwhal nods. "You know you're both on the fastrack for Guild membership." There is a reason for that - both of these Protectorate leaders have prior history of working with the Guild when it fought class S and class A threats in their respective cities, and both of them, besides being powerful, are veterans who have proven both their competence and their ability to work in teams. "To be honest, lot of us - me included - wanted to hold off on recruiting new members for at least two more weeks. Our membership went up by nearly a half after the last recruitment drive, and I'd have preferred to give us more time to develop unit cohesion. But," she nods again, "the newbies performed admirably in not one, but two major operations. Furthermore, we're going to be running a lot of such major operations over the coming weeks, and we're going to need numbers." She glances at you. You were among those who supported accelerating the recruitment procedures. If you add more members now, you'll have a couple days to run some training courses together, before the next operation goes live. And you suspect you'll need everything you can get to avoid a bloodbath.

All in all, there are nine heroes currently being groomed to join the Guild. Four of them, given their record, are intended to participate in the next operation. Among those are Chevalier, Myrddin… and two other capes, whom you will be addressing next.

"Like I've told Narwhal, I'm willing to consider the idea of joining the Guild. However, I wanted to wait and see how things went before committing myself to working with a foreign organization that would require me to fight battles across the globe."

You consider the heroine before you. Aura, a case-53 whose body is entirely made of bluish translucent force-fields, which can take a number of shapes and size. Strong, and getting stronger the bigger she makes herself. Tough, although her force-fields' resilience slowly diminishes as she grows. Able to fly. Notably immune to the Simurgh's mental manipulations (having no physical brain), which was why she was a common presence during battles against the winged Endbringer.

Like Harmonic and Multi-Hit, Aura is one India's "Garama" capes. Unlike them, she doesn't hold a government job - instead, she leads Bombay's most successful independent hero team.

In short: She's powerful. She's good with people and teamwork. She's got a prior history of fighting S-class threats and working with Guild members. And her specific nature makes her apt at facing the threat you'll be dealing with next.

"You've seen what the reinforced Guild can do. Liberating a city, taking down dangerous extremists…"

"I certainly won't be shedding tears over the arrest of Skylance and Fuji-Sama," she replies. "Their kind is a disease that's festering the world over. Everything that happened to South Africa. The Gesellschaft in Europe. The National Front in New Zealand. Or Shiva's Army right here," she sighs. Well, she makes a sound like sighing; it's not like she needs to breath any more than you do. "I fear that the occupation of Kashmir is bringing out the worst in my country. I hope, on some level, that seeing other ultranationalists crushed will take some wind out of their sails." She pauses. "With that in mind, I would have you tell me who this new and improved Guild intends to take on next."

"Madame Lustucru."

She pauses.

"...Damn." She does the levitating equivalent of pacing. "The worst of the worst of the African continent. And her power… she has hydrokinesis that bypasses the Manton limit, doesn't it? She can control the water in the human body."

"Exactly."

"And there's not a single drop of water in my body."

"Very true."

She faces you. "...My presence could save thousands of lives."

"Yes. Though we would want you on board even with a different opponent."

She nods. "Maybe. But for this one… I won't be staying on the sidelines."

"Of course I want to help out. Heck, I've tried to join the Guild before. The main issue is my superiors. I mean, they'll let me help out during Endbringer fights - it's not like their heads are that far up their asses - but actually joining a foreign organization, especially one that's seen as an extension of the Protectorate? Bit too much for them."

Like Aura, Chevalier and Myrddin, the fourth prospective Guild recruit of the day is a veteran of Endbringer fights. With the codename Entropisch, she is a powerful Shaker, able to create zones where everything is either much easier or much harder to damage, people included.

She is also a longstanding member of Die Deutscheritters, the national hero organization of Germany. Some possessiveness toward members is to be expected, especially in a world where heroes are in short supply.

"Far from me to deny that the Guild benefits from a close working relationship with the Protectorate," you chuckle, "but we would love to extend that same working relationship to the Detuscheritters. For that matter, I would like to think the past couple of weeks have gone some way toward establishing that the Guild is its own agency."

"It's not me you need to convince."

"No, but I'm meeting the people I need to convince in an hour, and I figured I'd run my argumentation by you first."

You do, after all, have a lot of experience at being convincing.

Today's list of Grey Boy victims takes you back to Chicago, along with Leonardo and his escort. The enthusiastic Italian hero is wearing a visored helmet this time around.

"You like it? I'm still working out the kinks in it, but it's functional," he says cheerfully. "Since I'm keeping the chronotech specialization for now, I figured I'd build more stuff with it. So, this helmet is basically designed to give me combat precog? See what the enemy does before they do it, warn me in advance and tell me how to react. The tricky part is figuring out how to feed me the data in a way I will react to efficiently and in time, but so far, it's worked preeeetty well in tests. Like, with the helmet, I was able to hold my own in CQC against people who can usually hand me my ass.

"And that's not all! I mean, I still need to finish fine-tuning this baby, but I also have this really cool idea for an 'oracle machine'. Some kind of precog computer that could warn us about bad stuff ahead of time. No idea how effective it'll be compared to actual parahuman precogs, but I've already filed for authorization to build it. And, and, the brass agreed to let me work with Dragon on replicating my timeloop-buster, and wow there's a reason she's considered the world's greatest Tinker."

"So I see," you smile at him. "Let me thank you again for your assistance with this."

With Leonardo's assistance, the last multi-victim timeloops are cleared. Of the 78 remaining Grey Boy timeloops, every one contains one single victim.

Furthermore, you manage to squeeze in a meeting with the leadership of the Legione Difesa. While you need to stay carefully diplomatic, you manage to make them see that collaborating with Dragon is helping the new Tinker master his abilities at an accelerated pace.

The time you spend in Brockton Bay, compared to your time working internationally, is relatively quiet. A few patrols that catch a few dealers (and catch, in the nick of time, an elderly woman having a stroke while alone in her home). Some sparring with the Wards and Protectorate members; if nothing else, Dauntless seems to have embraced training with renewed enthusiasm.

Oni Lee, apparently the only remaining villain of the now-defunct ABB gang, gets captured by Velocity (with assist from Armsmaster and Battery) while you're out of town.

You spend some time re-fixing Noelle. The Travelers are cautiously excited about the ongoing negotiations being held for sending them back home. You also have the pleasure of informing her that the Travelers' information about their former employers is already panning out, and has already contributed to the arrest of Imperator in Detroit.

"Of the 605 members of Japan's National Diet, 94 belong to the ultranationalist Yamato Party," director Wayland explains. Present and accounted for are all Guild members, including the four newest recruits, and five prospective ones. And a few more people in an advisory capacity. "The next elections will be held 188 days from now, and Thinkers consider it almost impossible for the Yamato Party to get more than 60 seats when they come."

"Still best to beat that iron while it's hot," says Surdoué. "Bringing additional Japanese capes into the Guild will give a nice demonstration of what internationalism can accomplish."

"Well, it's not all gonna be on Japan," says Wayland. "South Korea and Singapore both have rather tense relationships with Tokyo, but the governments of both feel even more threatened by the CUI. With the fall of Skylance and Fuji-Sama, Japan will appear like a 'safer' option, and there are already moves in their governments and corporations aiming for the strengthening of trade relations, and maybe more.

"Of course, that's not the only place where internationalism is getting a focus. The final details of Mexico's entrance into the Protectorate are being hammered. Looks like Exalt will be taking over the Houston branch, while Eidolon goes on loan to Mexico City for four months, serving as liaison under Excelente. A couple dozen Protectorate heroes will be moving to Mexico and vice-versa.

"And then," he moves to the next slide, "there's Africa. I've gone over this before, but I'll repeat for our newcomers: If you want the internationalist agenda to gain any sort of traction on the continent, the two countries you absolutely need are Nigeria, and Kenya." He pauses. "Nigeria is, by far, the most populous African nation, and its true economic powerhouse. It used to maintain peace in West Africa… before Behemoth devastated Lagos. Nowadays, with the capital in ruins and several major cities taken over by gangs and warlords, Nigerian heroes are too busy desperately trying to keep the country from total collapse to run any sort of peacekeeping efforts beyond their borders. As for Kenya, it is an island of relative stability in East Africa, largely thanks to the Pentagon - a team of five national heroes, A-listers with strong synergy. They've managed to smack down any villains who get too big for their britches… but even with that, Kenya's situation is volatile, with practically a tenth of the current population being comprised of refugees from neighboring nations."

"Thank you, director," says Narwhal as she takes center stage. "Now, there are two more matters. First, everyone, meet Artisan, member and spokesman of Toybox."

The rogue, dressed in an elegant mix of fashionable clothing and tinkertech, steps forward. From what you've read about Artisan, he's a Tinker with an added Thinker power that makes him a world-class expert in any type of craftsmanship. His Tinker specialization apparently builds on it - there isn't any one category of tinkertech he's specialized in, but anything he builds is powerful and effective, not that far from what a Tinker specialized in that field would be capable of.

It is thus no wonder that he has some status in Toybox, a North-American association of rogue Tinkers who collaborate on various projects, share resources, and sell their services and tinkertech creations to the highest bidder. Buyers have included wealthy private citizens, corporations… as well as the PRT and villains, though the latter operate with plausible deniability.

"Thank you for having me here," says Artisan. "It is an honor, and I don't mean just because Dragon is in the room." A few chuckles at that. "Since we're all very busy people, allow me to cut straight to the point: Toybox, after much deliberation, has concluded that we wish to support the current efforts of the Guild. As such, we have agreed to offer a number of tinkertech devices for the use of your organization, free of charge. All of those devices will have been tuned up by Prochnost, minimizing the need for maintenance."

Prochnost, your quick research shows, is a Russian member of Toybox. His specialization is robustness: While all tinkertech requires frequent maintenance by Tinkers to keep working, his own needs significantly less - almost by an order of magnitude. Supposedly, other members of Toybox tend to pay him to improve their own work.

"It's a generous offer, and we appreciate any help we can get," says Narwhal. "What devices did you have in mind?"

"Well, we have a few that I've brought with me. Beyond that, we're taking requests…"

After some discussions with the Toybox spokesman, things go back to the matter of Kolwezi and Madame Lustucru.

"It's no good," Forecast comments sadly. "If you send in Centro, things go bad."

"That would suggest they have a way of detecting Centro," Wing Warrior says. Though the Japanese Tinker is not yet a member of the Guild, and won't be talking part in the Kolwezi operation, ongoing negotiations with his superiors are very promising - the Japanese authorities would much rather appear as equal partners in the Guild than as having needed it to swoop in to their rescue and then leave, and Wing Warrior has proven his worth and usefulness. "I assume they have their own Thinkers?"

"Definitely," says Tattletale, another cape here in an advisory capacity. "Look at these reports. Lustucru has more than one Thinker working with her, but the biggie is this one. L'Araignée. Senses hostility… no, wide-area precognitive danger sense. He can warn Lustucru about threats before they arise. It's why planning around her is so frustrating. Also, why Forecast is having trouble seeing what will happen. Precog interference."

"Unfortunate. Any way we can take him out a few days before the attack, then go in at full force?"

"Sure, if you want half of Kolwezi dead or wishing for death during the intervening period."

"...She would, wouldn't she." His helmet covers his entire head, but you can hear the edge of fury in Wing Warrior's voice. "Does Lustucru value the death and suffering of others over her own survival?!"

"She doesn't actually believe she has a way of surviving this month," Tattletale replies, "but to answer your question? Yeah, she does. She deliberately keeps all the death and torture completely unpredictable, so people can't even pretend to themselves that they'll be safe so long as they act in a certain way. Two years ago, there was this big resistance plot that seemingly managed to kill her and drive her minions out of the city. The town had a major celebration. Then, in the middle of their big party, Lustucru and her minions walk in, the leaders of the resistance start laughing, and it turns out it was all one giant fakeout to give everyone false hope." Tattletale's expression is unusually somber. "Lustucru lives for this shit. She just wants to keep pushing, see how much despair she can inflict on people. Right now, she knows you guys are coming after her; she'll be planning to take the whole city down with her."

"Then we will have to out-plan her," you state, "and I have faith in this team's ability to accomplish just that."

Much as with Slaughterhouse Nine, there are many, many things about Madame Lustucru's operation that are utterly revolting. Just one of them is the fact that one of her minions, Monsieur Météo, is a weather controller, with a range measured in miles. He could be out there saving millions of people and whole economies by combating droughts; instead, he causes lightning to randomly strike people in Kolwezi.

When you and Dragon reach the city, it's unnaturally cloudy for this weather. It has been for a while now - Monsieur Météo has been maintaining a cloud cover since the day you arrested the Purifier (also the day you killed the Simurgh, but you suspect it's more because of you arresting the Purifier). As such, you could not get satellite imagery from Dragon.

Since l'Araignée could almost definitely warn Lustucru ahead of time, you and Dragon were sent ahead, before Strider teleported anyone else in. Just in case of an ambush. You stretch your senses, which shows you thousands of civilians trying to get away from the area or hunker down in their homes. Their expressions are those of people who were hollowed out, not even capable of hope anymore; you've seen those expressions in the Nazi death camps.

Your senses also detect a number of bombs, and multiple snipers (as well as one man with a bazooka). Those are simple enough to take out; as none of these are powerful enough to harm you or Dragon's latest omni-metal suit, the main concern here is civilians and securing a "landing pad" for the Guild.

The first person Strider brings to the "landing pad" is Entropisch, who instantly covers the area with her anti-damage effect. Next come Narwhal and Myrddin, setting up the defensive perimeter with their powers. Then more and more of the Guildsmen, while you use weather-control powers to dispel the cloud cover, giving Dragon eyes in the sky faster than Monsieur Météo could bring the clouds back.

"Not much of a welcoming committee," Tattletale's voice comes over the commlink. "Lustucru's decided against one big brawl. She's got her minions hiding all over the city, ready to ambush you guys and get a lot of civilians killed in the process. She herself won't be alone, though. She'll be with l'Araignée and Cache-Cache."

Cache-Cache is a villain with the ability to banish anything (or anyone) he touches (possibly to a pocket dimension), and return it at will. The banished objects experience no passage of time, and are returned to the exact location they were originally banished at. Tattletale had been quick to conclude that he would play a central role in Lustucru's final plan, hiding destruction across the city in order to kill everyone just as you freed the city - her final gift of doom and hopelessness to Kolwezi. Meaning that locating Cache-Cache is vital.

"All right people, you have your orders!" Narwhal calls out. And the Guildsmen move.

Carefully, of course. You and Celo scout ahead, aided by Dragon's satellite imagery, Tattletale's insight, and a Toybox visor that lets Celo observe every human being and all explosives in a wide range regardless of cover. Entropisch dismisses previous anti-damage zones and creates new ones, the rest of the Guild quickly moving inside them with Strider's help.

The fighting starts. Not a big melee like with Skylance, but individual villains, unmasked, out of costume, hidden among the cowering civilians, suddenly lashing out whenever the Guild gets in range, often deliberately inflicting as much collateral damage as they can and trying to detonate hidden bombs.

One after another, they get taken down fast. Between Multi-Hit, Iron Snake and yourself, the Guild has enough speedsters to take them down quickly, and Entropisch's field ensures that what few attacks get past Narwhal and Myrddin's defenses don't cause the Guild serious harm (and a handful of Toybox-issued personal force-field generators protect the more fragile Guildsmen). The bombs do not explode - Doctor Volt has rigged together a device that effectively neutralizes standard detonators. Many injured civilians are rescued by a combination of Voodoo transferring their injuries to your regenerating body, and a Toybox-provided combo of an aerosol that seals wounds and hypodermic needles full of a liquid that acts as blood substitute.

Which is not to say civilians don't die. Many do. But for now, casualties remain in the lower double digits, instead of in the thousands upon thousands that would have occurred by now with less preparation.

Once the first few villains are captured, you quickly switch to mind-reading, delving inside their memories to find out more about Lustucru's plans. You replicate holographically the faces of their fellow villains from their memories, and relay everything you learn to the rest of the team. Lustucru kept a lot of the useful information compartmentalized, but there are useful nuggets here. Dragon is able to identify three more villains via satellite thanks to your information.

"Ugh, headaches starting," says Tattletale, "but I'm at least 95% sure Lustucru is waiting for you in city hall. Careful, she'll have lots of hostage, and that Tinker with her. The one with the speed specialization."

An Alexandria package villainess takes to the air, holding above her head a gas tanker truck that she presumably intends to throw down upon the Guild. A blast from Météore hits the tanker, causing a massive mid-air explosion that slams the villainess to the ground. There, she is quickly beset by Chevalier. She strikes him with a punch that could shatter an Abrams tank, but doesn't even dent the Protectorate hero's armor. He knocks her down with his sword, and Doctor Metal makes sure she stays down.

With Narwhal's confirmation, you, Dragon, and Aura make a beeline for city hall.

Even before you enter the building, your senses give you a grim picture of what's inside. Lustucru, l'Araignée, Cache-Cache, an unidentified villain and the speed-specialized Tinker wearing power armor are in the biggest room - unlike the rest of the villains in the city, they're wearing their costumes. Also in the room are over forty terrified children, many of them crying, and several cooking gas tanks, open and hissing. On the ground are several glasses of water, each one near a small pile of powder.

Magnesium powder. A substance that quickly ignites when it touches water. And with all the gas in the room… Lustucru, being hydrokinetic, can basically blow herself, her minions, and the children to kingdom come in a fraction of a second.

You relay your concerns to your teammates, quickly discuss a plan, then fly in.

You are greeted by Madame Lustucru, slowly clapping. She looks… like a pretty normal person. Not like a mass-murdering sadistic monster who's turned the lives of nearly half a million people into a living hell for the better part of a decade. But you've been around long enough to know that monsters can be depressingly normal. "Bra-vo! My felicitations! Raise your heads, everyone - the Endbringer ender walks among us!"

You maintain a neutral expression. "Madame Lustucru. I do not believe introductions are necessary, so allow me to skip forward to the more, shall we say, relevant bit. I wish to ask you to surrender and come quietly."

Her minions start laughing at that. She grins from ear to ear. "Are you preparing for a career in comedy? I suppose being a hero is good training for it."

"Your army is falling. You have nothing to gain from hurting any of these people," you counter.

"You think I had something to gain from hurting them before?" She quirks her eyebrow. "Why do you think I'm doing this, sweetie?"

"I had assumed a lack of parental warmth growing up."

She actually laughs this time. "Let's make something perfectly clear, oh mighty bearer of hope. I don't get paid to do the shit I do. I don't do it as some kind of revenge on the world. I don't get sexual thrills from it. And I'm not trying to score ideological points.

"I do it for the hell of it. I do it just because. I do it because why not?" She grins like a shark. "I took an entire city, and made it experience despair like none other in History. You think I'm gonna-"

"I think there are better reasons to do things in life than 'just because'," you interrupt her. "I think purpose can be found in striving for things, be they great or small. From the idealist who wishes to change the world to the person just trying to take care of their family and friends. Forgive the honesty, but this… all of this… strikes me as puerile."

"Then let me be puerile!" she declares dramatically. "Really, Avatar. Did you really think you could talk me down with a speech?"

"I suppose not," you admit, "but it had to be tried. I am very good at violence, but I don't use it as a first resort."

"Oh, agreed. Fear of violence can be just as effective!" she declares cheerfully. "And I - did you just do something to my head?"

Nuts. You'd had hoped that you could read her mind without her noticing, but it's not that subtle an ability.

Twenty glass bottles tip over as the water inside rushes into the magnesium, which combusts, eliciting cries of terror from the children.

Moving at super-speed, you blast Madame Lustucru, slamming her against the wall; you can't afford to be gentle when she can kill any hostage with a thought.

Less than a twentieth of a second after your attack, while the speed Tinker is starting to move, he gets nailed by an electric blast from Dragon - a device designed by Doctor Volt for this situation specifically.

Aura slams the unidentified villain against the wall. This results in the wall collapsing as the villains begins emitting heat that could melt basalt, but Aura can handle him, and Dragon can easily handle the last two remaining villains in the room.

Of course you didn't expect your speech to sway Madame Lustucru. The odds of that happening were negligible.

But the time she and you talked was time you could spend turning all the propane inside the hissing gas tanks into harmless nitrogen, then do the same to the propane already in the room. Really, the part you had to be careful with was maintaining roughly the same amount of Ethanethiol in the air - Lustucru might have noticed the change in smell otherwise. That's why the room isn't exploding.

For that matter, the cloud cover maintained by Monsieur Météo might have been a problem, but not an unsolvable one. Over the past week, even as plans were being laid against Skylance, you've spent nearly 20 hours flying above Kolwezi's cloud cover, using enhanced senses to map the city below and observe the villains' preparations. You saw enough for Dragon, Surdoué, Tattletale and others to figure out that Madame Lustucru's grand finale involved sarin gas. Over a hundred sarin gas containers, taken all over the city and "banished" by Cache-Cache, meant to be released in your moment of seeming victory: Even as Kolwezi was freed from Madame Lustucru, its people would die, falling to the poison gas.

Your surveillance of the city also allowed you to identify dozens of discreet spots. Spots to which, over the course of this battle, Strider had been teleporting a different set of containers - ones filled with a chemical counteragent to sarin, hastily created in a collaboration between Dragon and a Protectorate Tinker with a relevant specialization. Said counteragent is now flooding the air to neutralize the sarin gas.

And all that might not be enough. That brief moment you were in Madame Lustucru's mind, you were able to see that Cache-Cache banished more than just sarin gas. There were two more things. One you weren't even able to identify, but the other… is children. Two hundred of them. And each one was banished over a hundred feet above ground, all over town.

Your pour your entire power pool into super-speed.

That's not going to be fast fast enough. Not with two hundred children, scattered over a city the size of Kolwezi, all plummeting to their death.

So you seize control of destiny, and push your power beyond its limits. You go even faster. You zig-zag across town at hypersonic speeds, using your telekinesis to grab the children, move them near the ground, then slow them to a halt. Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat. Again and again and again.

Ten children rescued.

Twenty.

Fifty.

Ninety. You feel your power boost waning. That won't do. You push yourself harder; there are more lives to be saved.

One hundred and twenty. It's been over a second of real time; the children's fall is picking up speed.

One hundred and fifty. They've fallen half the way down, but at their current velocity, they'll hit the ground so very, very soon.

One hundred and eighty. It's hard to maintain this kind of super-speed, and you're tired, but you're not stopping. You push yourself even harder.

Two hundred. You catch the last children less than ten feet above the ground.

You are exhausted. But there's one more trap.

"This is Avatar. Lustucru had more big finale traps laid. Took one down, but I know there's another."

"I can see it," says Dragon. "Satellite imagery showed an object appearing in the upper stratosphere, currently in free fall toward the center of Kolwezi. Zooming in. Looks like a bomb… No, I think it's a purely kinetic projectile. Air resistance is barely slowing it down; tinkertech-made material, designed to be hyper-dense." She pauses for a moment. "With this density, from this height… when the projectile hits the ground, it'll have enough kinetic energy to raze the city center."

"Well then, can't have that, now can we?" comes Myrddin's voice, sounding amused. "How long until impact?"

"Eyeballing it, 40 seconds."

"On it, then."

Despite your exhaustion, you fly along Chicago's self-styled wizard.

"I can't say I mind the company, but I do believe I can deal with it."

"Probably," you reply, "but professionals have backup plans."

"Too true," he chuckles, then stops, looking up. You see the massive projectile bearing down on you.

Hovering next to you, Myrddin raises his staff, and then shouts. "YOU! SHALL! NOT! PASS!"

A "bubble" of warped physics shoots from the Protectorate leader, colliding with the kinetic missile. Then the missile is gone.

"I'll have to release it in less than an hour," Myrddin says, "but with good Strider's assistance, it can be sent safely into the sea."

For all your exhaustion, you can't help but laugh. Mostly at the Gandalf quote.

With Lustucru out, you can read her mind at your leisure; that makes taking the rest of her men down far, far easier.

Without the counteragent, the sarin gas could easily have killed a six-digit number of people. With the counteragent, you still have several thousands of lightly poisoned (and dozens of not-so-lightly poisoned) civilians on your hands. Thankfully, with the violence dying down, the next phase of the plan involves Strider teleporting in three Protectorate healers (and one from Japan).

There were still casualties. Dozens of civilians died in the fighting; Madame Lustucru specifically designed her battle plan for high collateral damage. But if the Guild and its allies hadn't played their cards right, there would have been hundreds of thousands of casualties. Ultimately, this is a win, and a big one.

Time to make it official. Having partially recovered from your exhaustion, you activate city-wide communication powers.

"People of Kolwezi, this is the Avatar speaking. Over the past few hours, the Guild, an international organization of heroes dedicated to fighting the worst monsters in the world, has been taking down Madame Lustucru and her organization. The Guild is an international force, with members coming from the United States of America, Canada, the Ivory Coast, India, Argentina, France, Indonesia, and many more.

"Lustucru's actions were all designed to kill one of the things human beings need most: Hope. But hope can never be completely extinguished. For all her power, for all her ruthlessness, Lustucru lost, and you are free of her. There will be difficult days ahead as you adjust to life outside of her sadistic little hell, but life will go on. You have a future. You have a right to life, to hopes and dreams, no matter how hard a petty tyrant may struggle to crush them.

"I cannot undo the suffering you have undergone. But I can promise you that there is life - not just survival, but life - beyond it."

Considering what Madame Lustucru has inflicted on these people, you imagine a lot of them will need time before they even accept this liberation as real. You can only hope that this will help a little.

"You are acting in clear violation of the Congo's national sovereignty."

"With all due respect, we do not recognize you as the Congo's legitimate government."

Not far outside of town, Narwhal and yourself are addressing the Triple Alliance. Three warlords with strong power synergy who joined forces and have effectively taken over nearly all of the country formerly known as the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and some of the neighboring territories. They are arguably the most powerful and successful warlords on the continent, with the possible exception of Swarm in the Ivory Coast (and, formerly, Moord Naag, even if she ruled over a far smaller population). Just now, they showed up with over three hundred capes and ten times as many soldiers.

They could have taken down Lustucru years ago. They allowed her to continue operating because she was a useful bogeyman, scaring anyone who considered rebelling against them - they were the lesser evil in comparison.

And now, with her down, they want to step in and consolidate Kolwezi as part of their empire. It used to be the nation's tenth-largest city before Lustucru started depopulating it, after all.

Météore has been a spearhead of the resistance movement fighting these tyrants for years. She's made her opinion of them exceedingly clear… and to a large extent, looking over the record, you agree. These three care only for their own greed and lust for power.

Which was why you negotiated extensively with the governments of Kenya and Nigeria before launching this operation.

Which is why, with Strider's assistance, Kenya and Nigeria have sent nearly a thousand of soldiers and policemen to help maintain order in Kolwezi during its transition period (as well as nearly a hundred translators).

"The governments of Nigeria and Kenya have agreed to declare Kolwezi a humanitarian crisis zone, and are placing the city under their joint protection," Narwhal goes on with a carefully neutral expression. "While you are more than welcome to send relief, soldiers and parahumans entering the city will be seen as an act of military aggression."

"You think you can just steal a city from us? Our army has thousands of parahumans."

"We have the Avatar," Narwhal shrugs.

It's not a perfect solution. But it's something. The Triple Alliance will be hesitant to risk their position by picking a fight with you. And on some level, warlords the world over are realizing that, the nastier they get, the bigger a target gets painted on their back. Lustucru was a monster on par with the Slaughterhouse Nine; she was taken down with extreme prejudice. The Triple Alliance are standard tyrants; you haven't taken them down, but you haven't allowed them to take over another city, either.

"It was obvious Cache-Cache would have more than one trap laid. I should have seen it coming. And fuck, bombarding the city with children? That's exactly what those sick fucks would do."

Despite this victory, Tattletale seems more frustrated than anything.

"Tattletale, you're very good at gathering information, not omniscient," you counter. "And quite frankly, your intel on this op was extremely valuable. How many thousands of men, women and children would have died if you hadn't helped us?"

"You'd have taken a longer time planning the op," she replies. "...And still lost thousands," she adds with a grin. "Don't say I never did anything nice for you."

"I would not lie like that," you reply.

She frowns. "I still have a headache, but I don't need to use my power to tell you're still trying to manipulate me. You're hoping I'll enjoy the gooey sugary pride of rescuing orphaned puppies and end up a hero."

"Calling it 'manipulation' won't change what it is," you reply. "People want to help each other. It's a large part of what makes the human condition bearable. You've helped a lot of people this past week. Are you going to deliberately refuse to take joy in the good you do because you take pride in being 'bad'?" You use air quotes for that part. "I don't think that's who you are, Tattletale. You don't commit evil for evil's sake."

"Fuck no," she says, the memory of Lustucru's horrors all too fresh in her mind. "But I'm comfortable with just helping my friends."

"There are billions of people on this planet whom you'd be friends with if you spent some time getting to know them," you shrug. "And Taylor wasn't your friend when you decided to help her. She was just someone who needed help."

"That was different."

"No two situations are ever exactly identical. But Kolwezi has hundreds of thousands of people who have a chance at life, at hope again, and you're one of the people who made that possible."

She remains silent after that.

The next 24 hours involve some more rescuing of Gray Boy's victims - between Leonardo and yourself, there are only 68 locations left, each one with a single victim. They involve some extensive patrolling through Kolwezi, providing for the city's needs and shoring up fragile hopes. And, of course, they involve the Guild and you capitalizing on this latest victory.

Now that Madame Lustucru is in the Birdcage, relief efforts for Kolwezi are getting organized. Donations from private citizens are helping, but it's going to take a governmental effort to fix things globally. You give a heartfelt speech at the UN, highlighting the need for an international effort to relieve the worst-hit regions in the world, and experts seem inclined to believe that such an effort will get put together and funded.

Some of the Namibian warlords left in Moord Nag's wake, who seemed to be escalating their conflict with each other, suddenly reach a truce. You suspect Lustucru's arrest reminded them of your words to them not so long ago.

Between the Four Ghosts of Santiago, Skylance, and Madame Lustucru, the Guild is now fully established as a major force for change in Earth-Bet. Five additional members are slated to join - Dauntless from the Protectorate, Ninja Roja and Centuria from Cuba, and Wing Warrior and Go-Go from Japan. Even if you were to disappear tomorrow, this new and improved Guild could keep fighting the monsters of this world.

"Just show me the device," Prochnost said.

Wing Warrior placed the visor on the table. "I've tested the inference engine. Results have been encouraging." Lots of Tinkers could get inspiration from watching other capes's powers, but in his case, his actual specialization was replicating the powers of capes he saw in action. He had limits, of course - all tinkertech did - but he was confident this device could replicate at least most, and possibly all of the abilities of the Tattletale girl.

"Good! Then I'll make my own improvements, so the damn thing doesn't break down every week without maintenance," the Russian member of Toybox chuckled. "Now I just need two more."

Wing Warrior frowned under his helmet. One copy for himself, one copy for Prochnost, and one for the PRT who'd arranged the whole thing. He glanced at the third person in the room - the Mediterranean-looking PRT woman. Same arrangement as when the PRT had requested that he replicate the power of that Ward, Flechette. "You'll have it within the week," he grumbled.

"Problem? For a guy working with tinkertech this sweet, you're not sounding too happy."

"Tattletale never agreed to this, and she has never made an enemy of Japan. Even if this isn't actively harming her, it still feels like an abuse of trust."

"Eh," said Prochnost, "she's a villain."

"I wouldn't have agreed in the first place if she'd been a hero!" he said angrily. "But the only reason I was in a position to copy her in the first place was because she agreed to help the Guild!"

"Don't sweat it. Ya gotta do what ya gotta do. No-one becomes successful without stepping on a few toes."

"Successful? Do you think I'm doing this for self-aggrandizement?!" He gesticulated angrily. "I've spent the past fifteen years fighting a losing war to keep my country from collapsing. I spend so many goddamn hours every week trying to optimize my equipment. You get a specialization that lets you get away with minimal maintenance, but for the rest of us Tinkers it doesn't work like that! How much time we have for maintaining our tech places an upper limit on our power! Every time I want to add another power to this armor, I have to decide which power to lose, because I don't have the time to maintain one more module! Do I give up the gravity-modulators in the wings? Do I give up the variable-power taser in the fists? Do I give up the injury-sealing foam? Then I choose, and I abandon one module to add the new one. And every time I lose a fight or fail to save someone because I gave up the power I needed just then, I have to live with that knowledge!

"Now, two modules with vastly-reduced maintenance needs? One of which can give me better data than my entire sensor suite, and one of which can hurt an Endbringer? I don't want that to help my fucking career, I want that because I can save thousands of lives with it! And not just in Japan! I'm joining the Guild, and they're taking on evil bastards from all over the world. So, yes, I'm willing to do a few morally gray things if that's what it takes. Doesn't mean I'm happy with it."

"Feel free to not feel happy," Prochnost shrugged.

In St-Petersburg, the Queen of Black and White grinned.

Prochnost was earning a huge bonus as far as she was concerned.

132

sun tzu

Apr 23, 2017

View discussion

Threadmarks The Brigade Reborn

View content

sun tzu

Nov 18, 2017

#37

THE BRIGADE REBORN

[X] The Avatar and the Guild focus their efforts on hunting down the Slaughterhouse Nine. While the group has gone to ground, there have to be some clues nevertheless.
[X] The Avatar and the Guild try to liberate Lagos: The former capital of Nigeria has fallen under the control of warlords and gangs after Behemoth devastated it, and some of the worst villains in the country now rule over what's left. Liberating the city will go a long way toward encouraging Nigeria to act as Africa's peacekeeper.
[X] The Avatar, both in public speeches and private discussions, tries to convince various European powers to provide proper manpower to the European Brigade, in the hope of turning it into a legitimate international parahuman law enforcement agency.
[X] The Avatar works with Dragon and others to create alternatives to the Birdcage. Prisons in other planes, in orbit, deep underground, underwater… If there are prisons that can hold supervillains indefinitely without automatically meaning life without parole, it could go some way toward making the parahuman justice system less messed-up.
[X] Like Eidolon, the Avatar temporarily moves to Mexico City. Integrating Mexico into the Protectorate is a delicate process, and the Avatar's help could make a big difference.

"With the last three major ops, the Guild has gathered a lot of credit around the world," Narwhal explains. "We've proven that we're a genuinely international force - it's not like Washington or Toronto had anything to gain in Kolwezi - and we've proven that we're actually getting things done. That makes it much easier to convince capes from all over the world to do us the occasional favor."

"I know a few JDF Thinkers who would be helpful in the hunt for the Slaughterhouse Nine," Sunblade follows, "and most of the Diet is feeling grateful these days."

"I'll have a few words with my superiors," Wing Warrior nods, "and I may be able to contribute myself. My helmet has a fairly powerful sensor suite."

"Any Thinker support is appreciated," says Silver Crusader. "Tattletale and Forecast have been a big help, but tracking the Nine is still an uphill battle."

You nod. "I agree that the Nine should be a priority, for much the same reasons Madame Lustucru was. Firstly for humanitarian reasons. Secondly, to let the world know that monsters will not be tolerated. Lastly, because if the Nine's thought process is similar to Lustucru's - and Dragon seems to think so - then they're probably working on on a dramatic grand finale as we speak.

"But to save the world, it's not enough for the Guild to take down a group of monsters every week or so." You survey the other heroes in this room. "When I went after the Purifier, Moord Nag, Wyld Hunter and Heartbreaker, I chose them specifically because I knew I could take them down on my own. I joined the Guild because together, we could take down the Four Ghosts of Santiago and Madame Lustucru. But even the growing Guild, though it is effecting geopolitical change, is not in itself the full solution: Just because we can handle any problem, doesn't mean we can handle every problem."

You let the words hang in the air for a moment. "What we need to do is encourage the rise of powerful hero teams the world over. The USA and Canada managed as well as they did because they have the Protectorate - thousands of heroes working together. Kenya did well because it has the Pentagon - a team of powerful heroes with great synergy. We need more heroes across the world. We need a European Brigade. We need an African peacekeeping force. We need to support and empower forces for good."

"God knows I had my issues with Nigeria's 'peacekeeping' back in the days," says Doctor Metal. "They liked to throw their geopolitical weight around. And they're not fully democratic - the junta still holds a big chunk of the executive power. But West and central Africa need a peacekeeping force, and right now…" she grimaces, "...it's gotta be Nigeria. Before Swarm, the Ivory Coast could have done it, but as things are right now…"

"Nigeria and Kenya already have favors we owe them, for helping in Kolwezi," says Dragon. "I'd rather repay those favors now than later." She points at the map. "Nigeria was fairly successful in integrating its capes into their National Parahuman Alliance. Then, in 2001, Behemoth attacked Lagos. Of the eight million people who resided in the city at the time, 1.9 million perished that day, making it one of Behemoth's deadliest attacks; over three million have since either died or left the city. Parahuman casualties in the battle were massive, especially among Nigerian heroes; even today, those are still being felt, and the hero-to-villain ratio in the country is almost as bad as 1-to-5.

"The only silver lining is that the government was evacuated in time, and were able to keep most of the country from collapsing. However, with so many dead heroes, and with a disproportionate number of them getting stationed at the new capital in Kano, the NPA has been unable to retain control of every city. In particular, Port Harcourt, Benin City, Zaria, and Lagos have all fallen under the control of gangs and warlords, with the NPA effectively pulling out of their areas." She pauses. "If we want to stabilize Nigeria and by extension its neighboring area, then our best bet is probably liberating Lagos."

"Lagos isn't Santiago de Cuba," Doctor Volt points out. "It's a major metropolis, and even with all the death and exodus, there's still around three million people there. What's the actual situation?"

"Eidolon was able to clear the worst of the radioactivity after Behemoth," says Dragon, "but cancer rates were still several times the national average for a while. Nowadays, in the absence of government forces, the city has been divided into zones of control by various warlords. At the latest estimate, less than a third of the population has access to electricity, and about a half has access to clean running water."

"Why don't they leave?" asks Harmonic. "Are the warlords physically keeping them there, or…?"

"That would be impractical with such a large area. No, they stay because their homes are there. Nigeria is struggling and failing to house the millions who left the city; those who stay at least have a roof above their heads, which wouldn't be guaranteed if they moved out.

"With or without government services, the city needs food and other resources. A fraction is produced internally. Some is acquired via legitimate businesses. More and more, however, the warlords acquire it from the outside via practices such as an extensive network of human trafficking."

"Ugh." The sentiment of disgust is shared by many, but there is no surprise.

Dragon resumes. "At current count, there are between 300 and 350 parahumans in Lagos; between 80% and 90% are affiliated with one of the major warlords. Intelligence from the NPA lists the stronger warlords as follows:"

Images appear. A man dressed all in crimson, in the process of killing an entire team of capes. "Blood Count. A-class threat. He creates a Shaker effect in a radius of 50-to-200 yards, causing gradual fatigue in everyone present, which can lead to death by exhaustion if he maintains the effect for sufficiently long. The more he drains people, the more he develops a vast array of temporary powers. He tends to maintain a low profile when not actively attacking anyone, but he is considered the strongest cape in the country, and has a cadre of subordinate parahumans, most of them Movers, who help maintain control over his territory."

Another image. A man wearing what looks like a cross between a gas mask and a smiley. "Choker. Another Shaker villain, he seems able to move vast swathes of nitrogen through the air. He's been known to asphyxiate entire city blocks simply by displacing all the oxygen. Possibly psychotic."

A woman in a gold-colored uniform, including a lot of actual gold. "Sun Gun. Blaster, able to generate beams of light sufficiently intense to set flesh on fire. A veteran cape, she was already second-in-command of the largest Lagos gang before Behemoth; she took over what was left of the gang afterward and kept expanding."

A woman wearing a laurel wreath on her head. "Conquest. Thinker, possibly precognitive. Has recently managed to rise to power by eliminating two lesser warlords and absorbing their organizations."

A man dressed in a parody of medical clothes. "The Doctor. One of the strongest healers on the continent, able to restore even the terminally ill or injured to full health with a touch. He's built up a whole racket, demanding subservience in exchange for healing, and has gathered a small army to maintain his 'business' and ensure he can collect on his 'favors'."

A woman dressed in green and yellow with plant symbolism. "Harvest. Plant Tinker. She controls a significant fraction of the port area. It is believed that her alga farms provide around 10% of the city's food, giving her a very strong negotiating position. She has also been known to equip her troops with organic 'guns' that fire poisoned darts."

A maskless man in a military uniform. "The General. He was actually an army captain back in the days…"

"Just how many villains are there who call themselves 'the General'?" Iron snake mutters.

"...until his court-martial over selling military equipment to warlords led him to trigger. His powers include flight and extremely fast regeneration. Perhaps more importantly, over three hundred of his men followed him when he fled to Lagos, and he has since picked up a number of parahuman minions; his solid understanding of tactics, strategy and organization has allowed him to control the rest of the port area."

Doctor Metal pauses to consider. "All right. Some of these could be difficult, especially Blood Count… and we need more data on notable minions… but, assuming they don't work together right from the start, this shouldn't be too difficult."

"What about Harvest and the Doctor?" you ask. "Their powers could be extremely helpful, if used more ethically."

"They're criminals and murderers who have shown no selfless inclinations before," Dragon says sadly, "and their fate would ultimately be up to the Nigerian government. If you can negotiate some kind of community service I'd applaud it, of course."

Doctor Metal doesn't seem too happy about that. Fair enough. Disliking it when villains avoid the punishment they deserve is perfectly normal. But if it saves thousands of lives… Well, you'll give it some thought.

"You say Conquest is probably a precog. Should we expect the rest of them to get an early warning? Is there a risk of them joining forces against us? Or, heck, just Blood Count draining thousands of people to death in anticipation of the fight?" asks Sunblade.

"We don't know. Hence why we will need some time to gather better intelligence first."

"I have another question," says Météore. "Doing this rewards Nigeria for protecting Kolwezi. What about Kenya?"

"I'm currently working a different angle with Kenya," says Dragon. "I'm not saying the Guild won't assist them with their own problem, but Kenya is more stable than Nigeria currently is." True, though you wish that was a higher bar to clear.

"Speaking of other issues for the Guild to handle…" Iron Snake gets up. "There's a matter. An organization in Surabaya. They call themselves the Lords of Flesh."

Slides are projected, showing individuals and figures. "The Lords of Flesh are a criminal organization specializing in human trafficking. Slave labor, prostitution, organ harvesting, you name it. We think they control between 2% and 3% of all human trafficking in Indonesia. Aside from many nonpowered members, they include twelve confirmed villains, and probably a handful that we don't know about. Several of their confirmed capes are Masters."

"And both the Avatar and Celo have an immunity to mind-influencing powers. Aura and Dragon have some resistance as well," Surdoué notes. "You want the Guild to assist Red White with taking them down?"

"No. All previous attempts to take the Lords of Flesh down before have essentially failed before they'd even begun," Iron Snake explains. "I don't know if it's powers, bribes, or a combination of the two, but they clearly have inside knowledge about the police and Red White both. They know when we're about to make a move on them. The last two times we tried anything, good heroes ended up spending months under Master control." He grits his teeth. "They don't get this kind of advanced warning when dealing with rival gangs, so we don't think it's precognition. What I want is for the Guild to investigate them, find their operational centers, find their leaders, and take them down without any warning. If possible, discover who their informants are." He pauses. "The Lords of Flesh ruin thousands of lives on a regular basis, but they're small-time compared to the Ghosts of Santiago or Skylance. This doesn't require the full might of the Guild, just… the help of a few key members."

"I would be honored to help," you say.

He looks uncomfortable. "Ah… I'll be the first to acknowledge that your powers would be extremely useful in this sort of situation, but… I think I'd rather you stuck to a backup role on this one." Why is he… oh. "Please don't get me wrong. I have immense respect for you. Even if we ignored your victory against Leviathan and the Simurgh, you've done more good for the world in one month than any of us have in the past decade." Debatable in a few cases, especially Dragon's. "However, I think the Guild needs-"

"The Guild needs to run successful and visible operations that I am not part of," you complete the reasoning, "because the Guild needs to be an international alliance of heroes defending the world, rather than an being 'the army of the Avatar'. And it is important that it be perceived as such as well. The organization cannot have a single point of failure."

"...Yes. I mean no offense-"

"Iron Snake," you smile, "no offense is taken. It is perfectly sound reasoning. I'm honored to be part of the Guild, but I am not the Guild; it was fighting the good fight before me, and will presumably keep doing so after I depart. After all, I do intend to return to Earth-Gimmel at some point. My goal is not to make myself the great problem-solver of Earth-Bet, it is to inspire and empower Earth-Bet's own problem solvers. I believe I have said as much, once or twice or twenty times."

He smiles, relieved that you understand.

"With that in mind," you add, "there are a few other matters that I, myself, need to look into… and I'll need assistance."

"...that Brockton Bay doesn't need me anymore. I feel that my presence in other cities can do more good at this point."

"The PRT generally agrees," says Legend. Also present at the meeting are several PRT regional directors, though mostly by videoconference. "We've actually been debating where to send you. We've narrowed it down to five Protectorate-territory urban centers that could benefit from you the most. Do you have any particular requests?"

"As a matter of fact… I wish to be assigned to the Mexico City team."

Legend smiles, unsurprised. "Well, it is one of the five."

"That place is halfway to being a warzone, and it's going to cross the other half real soon," says director Tagg. Everything about the man's demeanor tells you he's ex-military. "Mexico's got a more functional government and police than any place South of it, but their cartels are more powerful than any of our gangs short of the Elite and Battalion. Mexico City itself has an estimated villain population between 550 and 600, and some 300 heroes… and the only reason the hero ratio is so high is because the government had half of them bused in from all over the rest of the country."

"That was actually one of the stumbling blocks in the negotiations for their Protectorate membership," points director Weyland. "The Mexican government insisted that the ratio of heroes assigned to the capital must remain high. To be fair, we do the same thing in Washington…"

"That's not the same thing at all!" Tagg protests angrily. "Washington DC is a mid-sized town, just over half a million people! Bringing in a dozen heroes is enough to turn the tides there. Mexico City is practically the size of New York!"

"Still," says Weyland. "Sending in both Eidolon and the Avatar should make for a smoother transition, and earn a lot of goodwill."

"Goodwill with the Mexicans, maybe," says Tagg, eyeing you. "Not sure if it'll earn goodwill from Eidolon."

Hm. You wonder… "Will that be a problem?"

"Might or might not be," says Tagg. "The man's spent his entire cape career being the ace in the hole of the Protectorate. The strongest cape on Earth bar Scion. And now you're here. Legend can probably give you a better idea."

Legend looks slightly awkward. "Eidolon is a professional. I don't think there's going to be a problem."

Hopefully not. Still, something to keep in mind.

The conversation goes on for a while, before you move on to other topics. You want the PRT's input on two of your current projects. One is the support you wish to give the European Brigade. The other…

"Sorry I'm late," says the French foreign minister as he arrives, his secretary glancing at you and blushing as she brings him coffee and his notes. He isn't actually late, he's just the only one at the meeting who isn't early. Gathered here…

Well. There's the French president. She's run on a center-right political platform, and like so many French politicians, she calls herself a gaullist. It does not surprise you that unlike De Gaulle, when she lost a major referendum two years ago, she did not resign, but instead made her prime minister resign in her stead. She's been implicated in a number of financial scandals, but seeing as this is her second term, she's not eligible for reelection anyway. She is, however, concerned with her legacy.

There's the prime minister. As the party's number two, it's no secret that he's angling for the presidency. From what you know, he is somewhat lacking in charisma, his social skills mostly manifesting in deliberations with equals; the sort of politician who struggles to get the people behind him, but can achieve consensus with fellow politicians. He doesn't seem particularly attached to ideology; he's been accused of appealing to xenophobes in an attempt to steal votes from the far right, which seems more a matter of cynical calculation than internalized bigotry (which is little consolation for the victims of said xenophobia).

There's the foreign minister. He's spent over twenty years in total as a diplomat - in Berlin, Rome, and Istanbul. He seems to actually have a passion for international politics; his current position is his actual dream job. It is a known fact that he's received some suspiciously expensive "gifts" on the job, but the public doesn't particularly care as long as said job gets done - and the man is generally considered the architect of the 2007 trade treaty.

And then, there's Victoire, national director of the Irréductibles. The French equivalent of the Protectorate. Victoire is some kind of Thinker, and has led the organization practically since its founding. The exact nature of her power is officially classified, but after all these years it's a bit of an open secret: She selects a goal, and her power tells her whether any action she's about to take will increase or decrease her chances of completing said goal. By all accounts, she is driven, competent at her job, and incorruptible. She's caught some flak years ago for the "purges" where she removed from the Irréductibles various sympathizers of the Front Pour La Patrie (the French branch of Gesellschaft), but from the dossier you've read, you wholeheartedly support that particular decision.

"Ladies. Gentlemen. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

"We could hardly refuse to meet with the Anti-Fin," says the president with a magnanimous smile. "The nation, all nations, are in your debt."

"Nevertheless, I know that you are all extremely busy people, so I'll be straight and to the point," you say. "As you know, the Protectorate is currently expanding to cover Mexico. At the same time, the Guild is recruiting, with new members from Brazil, Poland, Japan, India, Indonesia, Cuba, the Ivory Coast… Earth-Gimmel…

"This kind of internationalism is yielding fruits already. The Caribbean region and Eastern Asia are already benefiting from greatly increased stability, and the crimes against humanity that were ongoing in Kolwezi have stopped."

"For the time being," says the foreign minister. "I'm honestly surprised that you were able to secure the cooperation of the Nigerian and Kenyan governments."

"They're helping with this situation. We will help them in return. Cooperation is the blood of civilization, and civilization on Earth-Bet is only a few short steps away from extinction." Your eyes survey the room. "For civilization to survive, its guardians must work together. I believe Europe has the bare bones of such a project already in place."

"The European Brigade," says Victoire. "Back in the days, there were talks about it including thousands of heroes." As opposed to the current roster of eighteen, ten of whom are from Italy and Spain.

"That was never going to happen, obviously," says the foreign minister. "No one nation would have been willing to give up that large a fraction of its heroes. But a few hundreds was a genuine possibility, until, well…"

"Until Lausanne, London, and Warsaw," you conclude. "But the Simurgh is dead. Other threats still exist, and they will require something like the Brigade to oppose. If nothing else, the existence of additional Endbringers means we need all the organization we can get."

"It's not that simple," says the president. "There are a lot of barriers to creating an organization like that. What country will it be headquartered in? How will control over it be shared? How is it going to be funded, when the countries funding it don't even use the same denominations?" She pauses. "There were extensive negotiations back then, and only temporary agreements were reached. Agreements that no-one has bothered revising, since the Brigade barely exists on more than paper."

"Those are all problems that can be solved," argues the foreign minister. "The real difficulty is each country's unwillingness to commit its own forces to the task."

"And for that purpose… I suppose you are well-suited to acting as ambassador," says the prime minister, gazing at you.

"Precisely," you say. "I have meetings throughout this week, in Germany, Italy, Spain, Belgium, Greece, Denmark, Ireland, the Netherlands… I aim to get everyone to commit a number of heroes based on national population. Furthermore, the current version of the European Brigade includes exclusively heroes provided by the governments of member nations. I believe it may be possible to bring in dozens of additional members, easily, if provisions are made that allow independent heroes to join, conditional upon a Brigade committee judging them fit for it."

Victoire blinks at that. "That… could work. You'd have to be careful in setting up said committee - there are a lot of independent heroes and vigilantes you don't want in a group like this - but I can think of many who would jump on the opportunity."

You nod. "That will help with quantity. For quality... I'm trying to include certain specific heroes who I believe will be a particular asset to an international team like the Brigade. I have brought a list…"

After examining your list, the gathered individuals are somewhat reluctant. Still… Victoire is nothing if not committed to the mission, and she sees an opportunity to take her country and the world back from the various forces of evil. The foreign minister is seeing the opportunity for a diplomatic accomplishment eclipsing what he's done so far. As for the president and prime minister… well, some negotiation is necessary.

This deep beneath the waters, there is no light except for the occasional bit of bioluminescence. Hardly a problem; you simply tune your senses to detect radioactivity.

Which leads you to the shattered remains of the submarine. All the ballistic missiles, as well as the uranium fuel, are still there, scattered on the ocean floor.

The French government is still uncertain if it was Leviathan who sank this submarine, but they've kept its loss a secret (separately informing the families of each individual crewman that they'd died in an accident), since they didn't want it known that nuclear weapons (or military technology, period) were up for grabs for any parahuman capable to operating at the bottom of the ocean.

Everybody wants something. The French politicians wanted a discreet recovery, and an iconic handshake for the cameras with you as they renewed France's commitment to the European Brigade. A joint speech in favor of the initiative.

In Denmark, the Speaker of the Folketing wanted you to repair the Øresund Bridge (with carbosteel) that connects Copenhagen to Sweden; a villain gang had destroyed the bridge as part of an extortion plot eight months ago, and with the ongoing budget crisis the government had been unable to allocate funds for repairs.

Italy's president is an ardent proponent of inter-European cooperation who already supports your goal here. The harder sell is the leadership of the Legione Difesa, who resent sending Italian heroes abroad rather than keep them focused on dealing with national problems. It taxes your oratory skills, but you argue that the European Brigade will overall improve national security well enough that they at least seem willing not to sabotage the process.

Poland's a wreck, and wasn't part of the original negotiations for the creation of the Brigade in the first place. Their authorities agree to get some volunteer heroes to join, on the condition that they won't be asked to provide more than token funding (not like their economy can take it) and that they receive an informal guarantee the Brigade will provide a push toward stabilizing Poland.

Ireland's mostly terrified of the UK situation; with the bloody repression of the Scottish revolt, the ongoing fascistization of the government, and the worrying rhetoric of Lord Walston toward their own nation, they want to include some clauses toward mutual defense of member nations. That's a poor fit for the Brigade itself, but as you tell them, it's plain to see that tighter bonds between Ireland and mainland Europe will go a long way toward discouraging the King's Men from doing anything foolish.

Luxembourg is a bit of an oddity. In the face of civilization gradually collapsing, many members of the world's financial elite have fled to the tiny country; its native parahumans are actually outnumbered by the foreign capes who are employed as private security by wealthy residents. That makes it one of the safest places in the world… and opens it to extensive critique as, essentially, a tool for the rich and powerful to escape and abandon the rest of the world to its troubles. However, a handful of independent native capes are interested in joining the Brigade; the government agrees to authorize such a thing, hoping it will mend their international image.

And so it goes. Country after country, meeting after meeting, several speeches in several different languages… interspersed, of course, with all your other activities. You bring up your projects for new cape prisons… but, also on the subject of the European Brigade, you need to speak to a number of individual capes.

"Of course I'll be joining." Napoleon - the Polish hero Captain Hydro recommended - is among the first in his country to volunteer to join the Brigade. "I've been saying Europe needs to work together for years. This is an opportunity to finally get that done."

"I'm glad you'll be on board," you tell him. "An organization like that will need proper Thinker support."

"I am aware." He pauses. "Obviously, I'm from a country that's effectively collapsed, and everyone will know Poland needs help from foreign powers. I've no intention of being beggars, however. It's why I'm trying to get more volunteers to join in. I want the Brigade to know it owes Poland."

You nod. "I would recommend prioritizing good team players. The Brigade will effectively hit the ground running, and the faster it learns to work together, the better."

"And you would have some experience there," he notes. "What about the language barrier? Are we assuming English as the operational language? The only member nation that speaks it is Ireland."

"It remains the language likely spoken by the most prospective members," you admit. "At the moment, speaking it is a sine qua non condition for joining."

"I see." He pauses. "There are certain parahumans that I believe absolutely need to join, but might not fit the profile you're looking for."

"I'm listening."

"I have always refused to join the Legione Difesa. I don't see why I should be any more eager to join the Brigade. There's a reason I spend all my time here."

The Ice Queen is considered one of the strongest capes in Europe, rated Shaker 9-10. You've seen videos; her ability to manifest ice and alter its physical properties is impressive indeed, and one of the main reasons Naples is still standing (and anyone who can effectively use frozen water against Leviathan is clearly impressive in a number of ways).

She is also a consummate loner who barely ever leaves the ice castle she's built herself on a mountaintop, from which she conducts astronomy with telescopes made from modified ice. She still occasionally publishes her findings, but she limits human interaction to a minimum. It's a matter of speculation how she even knows when to come down from the mountain to participate in S-class and A-class battles; the Legione Difesa denies rumors of having a way to contact her.

"I know that you are a loner," you say. "To be honest, your antisocial nature makes what you do more impressive."

That gives her pause. "...What do you mean?"

"I mean that you are not close to your family. You are not fighting to protect your friends. You hold little love for humanity. As far as anyone can tell, you do not particularly enjoy fighting. Yet, you still go out there once or twice a year, risking your life to defend a world of total strangers. That strikes me as unusually selfless."

She blinks. "It needs to be done."

"It does. But if you are willing to inconvenience yourself, risk your own life, to do what needs to be done… then is it not worth doing right?"

She stares at you. You press on: "To join an organization, to collaborate with other parahumans… That isn't what you want on a selfish level. It's not in your inclination. But you are already doing the selfless thing anyway. You would get far more mileage by working with a group.

"I am not actually suggesting that you join the Brigade full-time. However, the revised charter currently being debated offers 'associate membership'. Associates are encouraged to train with the Brigade to improve teamwork, and will be asked to participate in operations, but are not obligated to do anything."

She considers in silence for a moment. "I see your point, but I am uncertain that this is a good idea."

"Doctor Esposito…" you know she has little care for the cape name the press has given her; she uses it in combat situations, but seems to value her astronomy credentials more. "You have proven again and again that you are a capable, determined woman. This would not be an easy task, nor a small adjustment to make, but I do not believe that can stop you. In the end, it is only a question of whether you choose to. Seeing as you already choose to come down from the mountain as is…" you shrug.

"The Peur-de-Rien have always striven to maintain a tradition of heroic panache, you understand. We've fiercely maintained our independence from the government. At the same time… Well. I'd be lying if I said the recent victories of the Guild weren't inspiring. So, yes, the rest of the team is considering joining the new and improved Brigade."

Surdoué himself recommended that you talk to Les Peur-de-Rien. The most prestigious independent hero team in France, they were founded in 1996, but have suffered greatly since. Most of the team fought the Simurgh in Lausanne; in the months that followed, the (French-Algerian) team leader, during a fight with villains of the Front pour la Patrie, killed one of the enemy capes... who turned out to be a fifteen-year-old girl; the ensuing scandal became a black mark against French heroes, and drove up the Front pour la Patrie's recruitment. Calls for his arrest ultimately amounted to nothing, as he and all but two other team members were killed a few months later during Behemoth's second attack on Lyons in October 2003.

It says something about the team's prestige that new independent heroes still flocked to their banner after that disaster. The team remains a big deal, and performed admirably against the Three Blasphemies two years ago.

Getting a team like that to join, even if only as associate members, could do wonders for both the legitimacy and recruitment rates of the Brigade. And then, of course, there's the individual members.

Cyranette, the team's second-in-command, can summon a weightless blade that cuts through almost any material effortlessly. Effective against many Brutes.

L'Inspecteur Masqué is a Thinker with a form of environmental hyper-awareness. The sort of force-multiplier the Brigade needs.

La Matraque Bleue is an Alexandria package who can extend her enhanced durability to objects like the massive warhammer she carries.

Éprouvette is a bio-Tinker who, in addition to creating useful combat minions, is a capable team medic. And the Brigade needs healers.

Laser Ninja, the most recent team member, is a decent Blaster.

As for the man you are currently talking to, he goes by Goldorak. The last surviving founding member and current team leader, he is a Tinker specialized in giant mecha; he's patterned his creation and identity on a Japanese pre-Sundering fictional property (something a government hero definitely couldn't get away with).

"You said 'the rest of the team'. Not you?" you ask.

He winces under his helmet. "...I can't operate outside Paris itself. My mecha gets to and from the battlefield thanks to a teleporter I built inside our HQ, and it has a limited range."

Which is probably why he's survived this far, though he clearly finds the limitation painful. "That might not be an issue, actually," you tell him. "One of the capes the Spanish government is contributing to the Brigade," after some negotiation on your part, "is a Tinker specialized in pocket dimensions. It's an energy-expensive process, but she can open a portal from the pocket dimension to pretty much anywhere on Earth."

"Wait, are you talking about Caja? Doesn't she help with Endbringer deployments?"

"Yes, that's her."

He pauses. "That… would get past the limitation. I could… I could help!"

"Goldorak, you have fought in several dozens of parahuman fights since you got your powers. No-one could, in good faith, claim you haven't been helping."

"Not enough."

"And yet far more than most people. Though I believe the Brigade would welcome your contributions. Europe, the world, need heroes, now more than ever."

"I still can't believe you convinced them to let me join the European Brigade," says Leonardo. "It was really starting to feel like the Legione Difesa thought I was their golden goose."

"Well, they're only committing to a two-year tour of duty," you say, "on the condition that you regularly maintain their copy of the oracle machine. I understand it's been giving encouraging results?"

"Oh yes!" The Italian Tinker, as you know, has been getting a lot of mileage from his chronotech specialization. "So far, it's warned us about a parahuman gang fight, a big fire, and a villain attack on a jewelry store hours before they all happened. I'll also be building a copy for the Brigade… once I get back to a chronotech specialization."

"Which one are you using now?"

He grins. "Dragon has shown me some of Prochonost's work. You know him?"

"The Toybox Tinker who can reduce tinkertech's maintenance need."

"Right. Well, I've managed to get a version of his specialization. Probably a bit weaker, but… still good enough that I can improve my own gear. You know how maintenance is a huge bottleneck for Tinkers."

You nod. "I can see how that would make a drastic difference in what you can accomplish. Congratulations."

"And it's not just restricted to my gear. You know Fortress? From the Kenya Pentagon?"

"I haven't met, but I've read files on the Pentagon. Force-field Tinker, has made personal shields for the rest of the team, uses a gun that traps enemies in force-bubbles, yes?"

"That's Fortress. Well, Dragon asked me for a favor there," he seems downright giddy about that last part, "so, I've used my current robustness specialization on Fortress's gear. Which frees Fortress to make more tinkertech, make the team even more efficient, you know?" He's almost giggling. "Best part, the Pentagon's Mover-Shaker - you know, Kinesis? - kept me going at super-speed for the duration. I was able to do three days' worth of work in a single afternoon."

Right. Dragon said she was doing something for Kenya. It's good to see that her collaboration with Leonardo remains fruitful - he's contributed to her projects, and she's been teaching him a great deal.

"So, any particular heroes I should try to get to know on the Brigade?"

"Not everyone on the Brigade is technically a hero, actually."

"...What do you mean?"

"A handful of parahumans there are going to be former villains who were in custody, and will be given the opportunity to make amends." You notice his dubious expression. "Naturally, their past will not be kept a secret from other Brigade members. These are people who genuinely want to do better."

"I guess. Any names I'd recognize?"

"Does the name 'Niszczyciel' sound familiar?"

"No. Is that Polish?"

"Yes. Napoleon recommended him - he will likely be the most powerful Brute on the team…"

Niszczyciel has significant criminal history. He was arrested for doing henchman work for a Warsaw villain, then triggered overnight while in police custody with a skintight force-field that can selectively annihilate anything it touches. He could easily have escaped then, but one of the police officers present had the presence of mind to convince him to cut a deal. Initial power testing proved promising; there were talks of sending him to fight Endbringers.

Unfortunately, his hero career ended before it even began. The Simurgh attacked the city. He broke his hand punching her. In the aftermath, he went to Krakow, where he became a quasi-invincible villain.

And then, he became one of hundreds of villains worldwide who turned themselves in following Leviathan's death.

Napoleon and the Polish authorities had you talk to him. He permitted use of telepathy. He's… flawed, certainly, but you were able to confirm that he is genuine. Integrating him into the Brigade will not be easy. But then, the list of capes you've requested includes many team players, friendly sorts and social balm types. Hopefully, that will…

You are interrupted as Leonardo's device dings. "Ooh, looks like it's done recharging!"

With that, he aims it at the Gray Boy victim. An instant later, the time loop is broken, and paramedics rush in to help the man. Jacob Manx, a car mechanic who'd had the misfortune of being at the wrong place at the wrong time when the Nine were in town. Relatives of his are anxiously waiting at the hospital.

Between your own activity, Leonardo, and Dragon's successful copy of his device, you've broken a total of 67 loops over the past five days. Which leaves a grand total of exactly one victim left.

For that one, though… you're handling things a bit differently.

You understand that in his "base" form, his body is covered in silver fur, an obvious case-53.

Right now, though, one couldn't tell. Shape-Stealer's power allows him to take the appearance of anyone he's killed… and manifest a copy of their powers while assuming their forms.

That made him a very useful member to the Slaughterhouse Nine back in the days. He could infiltrate, murder local capes and briefly assume their identity, display an extremely versatile powerset…

Still didn't save him from Grey Boy once he had his falling out with Jack Slash. He's been trapped in a loop ever since.

He's a mass-murderer. A monster. But no-one deserves this. No-one deserves eternal torment.

The loop makes it a little harder to read his mind, but you have all the time you could need. You also have Tattletale right there, drawing conclusions from the information you provide her.

"...Jack saw his betrayal coming," she concludes, "but he'd failed to predict the mayor's choice. He's much, much better at predicting capes than non-capes. I'm… 80% confident that's a feature of Jack's powers," she concludes.

You nod. You signal everyone to get into position.

And then you shatter the time-loop.

Shape-Stealer falls to the ground, gasping. "I'm… free?"

He stares at you.

Then his shape immediately shifts to that of a fourteen-year-old girl. You recognize her from the file on him. She was a Toronto Ward with Blaster abilities.

You ignore the fireball he throws at you, blasting him unconscious.

Shape-Stealer opened his eyes and looked around. "Where… Where am I?"

"You are inside Lockbox-1," came Dragon's voice on the loudspeaker.

He took a measure of his surroundings. "There was a kill order on me. Doesn't the PRT have those anymore?"

"It still does, and the one on your head still applies. However, capturing you alive was easy enough given the circumstances, and it was decided that locking you up instead of executing you sent a message. It's a better display of strength, and it tells the world that civilization is being restored."

"Should have just killed me," he grinned. "I'll get out of here. Just a matter of time."

"Unlikely. You were not sent to the Birdcage, precisely because it was feared you might be able to do something by stealing the powers of others. The Lockboxes are a new set of prisons designed for parahumans, many still under construction. Lockbox-1, in particular, is in geosynchronous orbit. You are currently six times further away from Earth's atmosphere than the actual radius of the planet, none of your powers allow you to survive in space, and the prison is designed to self-destruct in an extremely violent way if it looks like you are successfully escaping."

His grin faded.

"As far as villains go, Trigger hasn't really done anything Birdcage-worthy," Silver Crusader comments. "But I don't think she's going to be eager to escape."

"No shit," says Tattletale. "If I'd been rescued from the Nine, and knew they wanted my power? I'd welcome protective custody at the other end of the country too."

It's a shame the Slaughterhouse Nine remains a step ahead of the manhunt. Thankfully, the increased focus on tracking them down does seem to be limiting their ability to gather resources. Tattletale is effectively dedicating the near-totality of her ability to the task. Silver Crusader works on both this and other Guild operations. Forecast has provided a handful of questions for the hunt. Wing Warrior and yourself have both been assisting with crime scene investigation. Japan has also been loaning you the services of Souvenir, a postcognitive Thinker who can see past events as they have occurred at his present location.

Trigger, for herself, is a villainess from a minor gang in Buffalo. She's got a criminal dossier, but no outright murder charges. Her Trump power is that she can "store" the effects of other parahuman powers, and program them to be "released" at a specific time or upon specific conditions.

You hate to imagine what the Nine would have done to her… or with her.

With the last of the Grey Boy loops taken care of, you have six extra hours in the day. Which, on the following day, allows you to serve as backup for the operation against the Lords of Flesh.

Forecast helped avoid actions that would have tipped the gang off. Silver Crusader was able to find key members, whom Centro was able to add to her list. Winged Warrior provided solid investigative work, in large part thanks to his armor's sensor suite.

In short, by the time the Guild moves in, it knows quite a great deal about the human trafficking organization, and the Lords of Flesh don't see it coming.

Besides Centro and Winged Warrior, several other new Guild members play a role. Dauntless, having recently joined, serves as flying artillery. Aura personally takes down a Master whose power relies on manipulation of brain chemistry. Ninja Roja, a Cuban Stranger who can appear to anyone as whoever they most expect to see there, infiltrated the base ahead of time to set up traps and help protect the abductees. Centuria, a Cuban Master who can generate dozens and dozens of human-equivalent projections, uses them to storm the complex. Go-Go, a Japanese Mover-Striker who can teleport herself and what she touches, provides both rapid transportation for the Guild and sends a couple villains directly inside cages where they get covered in containment foam.

Iron Snake restricts himself to fighting against non-powered gang members. He goes through them like a chainsaw through butter.

In the end, you don't need to intervene at all… though the Guild would have been more hesitant to launch this op without you as backup. It's heartening, however, to see the team growing stronger, bolder, and better able to help Earth-Bet. Today has seen the dismantling of a particularly nasty gang, the arrest of 16 villains and 98 gang members, and the liberation of 125 victims, half of them below the age of majority; many of the captured criminals are eager to cut a deal by revealing their informants among the police and Red White. You're comfortable calling it a good day.

...Not that the day ends there. A few hours later, you're in Mexico City, along with Eidolon and eighteen other American and Canadian heroes.

"Is it true the European Brigade is getting over a hundred new capes?" one of them whispers to you.

"Barely, but yes. Sixty sent by national agencies, forty recruited among independent heroes."

You all fall silent as two of Mexico's heroes step in.

Excellente, wearing black-and-gold full body armor. Until today, he was the leader of the national parahuman law enforcement agency. Now, he's the leader of the Mexico City Protectorate. His powers afford him excellence in all physical domains and at least most mental ones.

Del Duque, in his blue-with-gold-accents suit, cape, and luchador mask. He's Excellente's second-in-command, a position he's keeping under the current reorganization. Exact powers unknown - he's been known to take down his enemies with insulting ease in hand-to-hand combat, but none of what he does is explicitly superhuman, so most speculate he is a Thinker of some sort.

"All right, boys and girls, listen up," Excellente begins in English with a perfect Texas accent, before switching to Spanish. "I don't know what any of you were expecting when you got here. Maybe you think Mexico is like your cozy Northern cities where most cops at least try to be subtle about taking bribes and murder still kills less people than cancer. Maybe you think this country is a lawless shithole where every moment a villain isn't attacking you is a moment another villain is stealing skin flakes to make an evil clone of you.

"Well, as you're gonna find out real soon? Truth's somewhere in the middle. Fact of the matter is, chaos encourages crime, and right now? We're in a transition period, and that means chaos aplenty. Just yesterday, the Cognito Cartel decided to make a nuisance of themselves by robbing a police armory. Smooth job, total communication jam, no-one outside the armory even knew what was happening until they were done." He pauses. "So of course their biggest rivals, the Omega Cartel, decided to top them. They've assaulted a military armory earlier today, stole enough armament to outfit an entire regiment, including some heavy weaponry. Killed at least seven soldiers in the process, injured dozens of others. That's going completely over the line, and cannot go unanswered."

He holds up a clenched fist. "Deadmask, the Omega Cartel's leader, is inside his fortress-manor. Taking the son of a bitch down will be the first thing we do under the new name." He gestures at his second-in-command. "Del Duque will be in charge of the operation. You all answer to him in the interval."

De Duque steps forward; even with the mask, he radiates nonchalant confidence. "Deadmask is a known quantity. He was an ambitious cartel hitman before he triggered, he's prouder than the Devil, he can shoot laser beams from his eyes that liquefy people but don't work on non-living matter, he rules through fear. He took over the Omega Cartel last year, when it was the strongest in the region, but he's been steadily losing power - some to members defecting to rival cartels, some to members dying in his own purges. He's struggling to maintain control and he knows it.

"His fortress is reinforced with tinkertech and filled with both unpowered and powered cartel men he trusts, but that's still going to be a fairly small fraction of the Omega Cartel in total. If we go in with forty capes - you twenty and twenty locals - we will completely outnumber what's inside. Just, not the reinforcement he could potentially call. We have options. We can try to take them down too fast for reinforcements. We can try to jam their communications and hope they don't have a way to bypass it. We can try to take over the fortress and entrench ourselves, fighting the reinforcement head-on - dangerous, but a chance to take down the entire cartel, not just the leadership. Or," he sounds amused, "we can try to talk the men inside into just letting us take Deadmask and telling us where the stolen weapons are, in exchange for leaving the rest of them alone. He's hardly beloved by his own men at this point.

"I'm going to be in overall command, but with forty capes, we'll need to split leadership. Meaning," he glances at you and Eidolon, "one of you needs to be secondary commander…"

98

sun tzu

Nov 18, 2017

View discussion

Threadmarks End of Omega

View content

sun tzu

Mar 25, 2018

#38

END OF OMEGA

[X] Spoke to a number of politicians to secure immediate relief efforts to get the city back on its feet.
[X] Convinced Kenya's authorities to send the Pentagon to assist. You'll really owe Kenya after this, but it helps build the narrative for an African defense force, and the Pentagon is the most effective hero team on the continent.

[X] There needs to be justice for the victims, but you also need to think of those who are still alive. Try to negotiate a reduced punishment in exchange for them using their abilities for the continued good of the people.

[X] Support taking over the compound. A battle with the full might of the Omega Cartel might appear daunting, but a chance to take the entire organization down is worth the risk, especially with both you and Eidolon on the job.

[X] You're confident you can complete this op regardless of who gets to be second-in-command, it won't necessarily define any long-term command structure, and Eidolon has Protectorate seniority. Letting him take the lead will avoid stepping on toes and help maintain team cohesion.
-[X] Telepathy call Eidolon; ask him if he wants to command or have you do it. You're confident in his abilities and his judgment; you'll happily go along with whatever he prefers.

You glance at Eidolon - not with your eyes, but with your cosmic senses. It's been hinted that his professional pride might be taking a hit with you taking his place as the Protectorate's most powerful hero (though he clearly still has you beat in sheer versatility), and the last thing you want is for the team's effectiveness to suffer because of an emotional wedge.

Now, a team cannot function properly either if one teammate's ego warps everything, either, but there's no cause to jump to conclusions. So far, you have no cause to accuse the man of unprofessionalism.

Maybe best to just talk it out. You switch to telepathic communication. "Eidolon? If I may ask?"

He flinches, but only barely. "Avatar? Is that you?"

"Correct. Apologies for contacting you like this with no prior warning, but I wanted to know your thoughts on the matter."

"On the op? On command?"

"The latter. We both have significant experience in team leadership, but you know the Protectorate better and have seniority. I trust in your judgment here."

There's a pause. "...I have no particular talent for leadership, but I do, as you say, have experience with it. Enough to avoid the rookie mistakes. Here… Honestly, between the two of us and all the other heroes, this should be an easy job. I'm a Triumvirate member and I've been leading the Houston Protectorate for most of its existence. Politically, it makes sense for me to take the leadership position on this op."

"Sensible."

"I'm not trying to keep you down or anything. In subsequent operations-"

"I was under no such impression," you assure him before addressing Del Duque. "I take it Eidolon will be the second-in-command? His experience leading the Houston heroes seems a bit more relevant than mine as an international troubleshooter."

"Let's go with that," says Del Duque with some amusement. He's been observing you and Eidolon closely during the entire telepathic exchange; you think he's gauging you. "What are your thoughts on how to approach the compound?"

"Honestly, I favor taking it over and then taking on all comers," says Eidolon. "Not to toot my own horn, but, we have two of the world's three strongest capes. Regardless of how much of the cartel shows up, we outgun them."

"I'm inclined to agree with Eidolon," you say. "Not just because we can take them, but because we need to. Like Excellente said, this is a period of transitional chaos for Mexico. Everyone on both sides of the law is wondering what the new situation will bring. A devastating show of force and the obliteration of a major cartel right on the first day will send an important message and set the tone for the entire rest of the transition."

"Hm. Ambitious," says Del Duque. "Of course, if it doesn't go well… Double or nothing." He paces leisurely. "Very well, then. Double or nothing."

You are honestly surprised by the wealth of information the Mexican Protectorate apparently has on the parahuman abilities of the people in the compound. Eidolon says he's been using his powers to provide them with additional data, but… you're not sure. He seemed slightly uncomfortable while saying it. Or maybe you're reading too much into it.

Several hours are spent planning and preparing. And then, the operation begins.

The Omega Cartel's compound is a large building. Part fortress, part luxury manor, with reinforced walls, windows of bulletproof glass, an armored op-center room where an entire security team maintains camera surveillance at all time, and no less than four turrets armed with tinkertech weaponry that are controlled from said op-center room.

Eidolon's currently using a "banishment" power that can temporarily shunt nonliving matter to another, empty dimension. The first thing he does after dropping the "area invisibility" power (that allowed your combined team to approach the compound undetected) is banish the compound - walls, windows, turrets and all - to this other dimension, leaving only the bewildered men of the Omega Cartel at the location.

"Attack!" comes Del Duque's voice.

It ends in less than 30 seconds. Attacks from armed gunmen and hostile Blasters get "banished" automatically by Eidolon when they get close to your team. Meanwhile, heroic Blasters and Shakers, including Eidolon and you, blast out the villains with the more dangerous powers. Bulletproof heroes close in with the gunmen. Deadmask's power doesn't even go in use before he gets covered in containment foam. Unarmed, nonpowered individuals are quickly contained - who they were and what they were doing here will be reviewed later.

The third power Eidolon came prepared with is a time-based "slow beam" Blaster power. All the villains he hits with it find themselves slowed down by a factor of… ten? Fifteen? Something in that range. Which makes them easy pickings for containment foam and other tools.

...You find yourself questioning whether you're actually more powerful than Eidolon, as most people seem to think.

As soon as the living opposition has been taken down, you materialize force-fields around the locations of the tinkertech turrets. Eidolon drops the banishment of the compound, returning the building around you to your reality. The turrets don't seem to shoot automatically, but it was a valid concern. The Tinkers on the team quickly handle the op-center room, taking control of the defenses. However…

"There was a man with Deadmask," one of the heroes tell Del Duque. "He disappeared an instant after the compound did."

"Indeed?" says Del Duque. "Avatar, ac-"

"Incoming threat!" Eidolon interrupts. "I'm currently using a precognitive danger sense. There's a threat coming from this direction," he points at one of the walls. "Outside the compound, maybe."

Del Duque nods. "How soon?"

"...I'm not sure."

"Hm." De Duque considers. "Avatar, super-speed. Eidolon, take Avatar and these guys," he points at some of the team Brutes, "and look for trouble."

You follow Eidolon and the others to the edge of the compound, informing him that you've switched to a mix of super-speed and enhanced senses. The briefing on the Omega Cartel indicated that they'd displayed in the past an ability to deploy capes suspiciously fast, so a rapid retaliation is not entirely unexpected… But as you prepare for anything, your enhanced senses catch something inside the compound:

Del Duque, inside the room where Deadmask is foamed, stands with his hands behind his back. "I know you're there."

A moment of silence before another voice speaks. "Y'know, I'm almost sure you're bluffing," it says in an amused tone… then a man appears as if out of thin air. Tall, rotund, thin black mustache, features that suggest mixed Hispanic-Asian ancestry, wearing a brown leather jacket, some device you cannot identify on his left wrist and a probable tinkertech gun at his hip.

"So why didn't you try calling my bluff?" asks Del Duque, not looking like he's preparing for a fight.

"Between the Silver Scion and Eidolon, you probably could find me if you really tried," the rotund man chuckles. "But you have a reputation as a reasonable man, Del Duque. There's no reason for us to fight."

"Singul!" Deadmask's voice comes from inside the containment foam - you guess there's some room around his head if he can shout like that. "Get me out of here, and all your debts are fucking gone!"

"That I'd have to see," says Del Duque, still sounding unworried.

"Listen, Del Duque!" Deadmask goes on. "Good trick you pulled here. I can respect that. But you have to take your opportunities where you can. Work with Singul, get me out, and I'll get you three hundred million pesos! Or ten million dollars, whichever you prefer!"

"It's good to know one's services are valued. I'm afraid I'll have to decline."

"Don't be an idiot! Singul! Talk to him!"

"I don't know, Deadmask," says Singul, "Doesn't sound like a smart fight to pick to me."

"You owe me more money than you could sell all your fucking organs for, Singul!"

"Don't exactly need to worry about it if you're in the Birdcage, do I?"

"You son of a…" Deadmask moves on to a string of profanities at this point, which Del Duque and Singul both ignore.

"It's always refreshing to meet a cape who doesn't rush into unnecessary fights," says Del Duque, "but why exactly should I let you go? You're a smuggler with a fairly long rap sheet."

"Ah, come on, Del Duque. We both know you've got much, much bigger problems to worry about."

"You shot a man last month."

"He shot first!"

"That's not what the cameras showed."

"He intended to shoot first." Singul grins. "But, if you want me to make it worth your while…" He pulls from his pocket… a pencil and a post-it block. He writes something, though you can't make it out from there without completely dropping super-speed to enhance your senses.

Del Duque examines the post-it. "Hm. Interesting. I'll have it looked into." He turns his back to Singul.

"That means I can go?"

"Curious. I could have sworn I'd heard someone."

"Heh." Singul pressed a button on the device on his wrist, and becomes invisible again.

And that's when your enhanced senses pick another thing up. A gas pocket moving outside the compound. It's as colorless as the air around it, but the temperature's all wrong.

"Invisible gas cloud moving over there. Permission to stop it?" you whisper to Eidolon.

"Granted," he says, barely wasting a moment.

You place a force-field around the cloud. It struggles against the field and, when that fails, compresses itself and take a human form. "Let me out of here, you fucker!" she screams.

"She's on our files," operational command informs you via earbuds. "Does burglary, assassination and spy work for Omega."

Well. It's easy enough for you to safely knock her out, but if she was coming toward the compound…

Minutes pass. Del Duque and the others are working on securing the compound. And then you sense it - the sudden teleporting of twenty… no, nineteen individuals inside a building a couple hundred yards away from the compound. And now one of them has teleported away.

You're informing Eidolon of this as another group teleports into another building. Again, the teleporter leaves as soon as he's deposited them there.

Eidolon wastes no time contacting Del Duque. "Enemy teleporting in reinforcements to surrounding buildings; moving in to intercept." He turns to you: "Can you take out the teleporter next time he shows up?"

"Probably."

"Do so."

While you were talking, a third reinforcement group was brought in.

But when the fourth shows up, you're ready. In a tenth of a second, you fly a hundred feet to get a clear shot through a window, and send in a blast that detonates inside the room the teleporter just appeared in (you could just send a blast through a wall, but that would require a blast powerful enough it might kill the people inside).

At the same time as you blasted, Eidolon did something to the building the first batch of reinforcements appeared in. You can't tell exactly what, but the people inside - including all but three of the teleported villains - lose consciousness over the next ten seconds. Meanwhile, your blast has knocked out both the teleporter and half the villains of the fourth batch.

Then the fight begins.

There were a bit under eighty villains among the teleporting reinforcements, and another eighteen villains show up over the next ten minutes via a combination of Mover powers and vehicles, along with nearly two hundred unpowered but heavily armed men - though assault rifles, grenade launchers and missile launchers are pretty useless when aimed at anyone within range of Eidolon's banishment power. Many end up trapped inside a metal dome you create. Eidolon's slow-ray hinders several villains whom ops identify as dangerous. One of the Mexico Protectorate heroes is a Blaster who can generate and briefly store energy orbs that act like guided missiles once she assigns them targets; with the battle proper starting, she manages to take out seven villains rather quickly. One enemy speedster manages to get inside the compound and reach Deadmask's room, but gets taken out by Del Duque - despite the massive difference in speed, Del Duque is able to maneuver her into tripping at high speed, leading to a head-on collision with a wall.

Which is not to say that all goes smoothly. One of your Brutes comes into range of a villain with unknown powers, and is killed instantly when it turns out said villain has the Striker ability to control the body temperature of anyone they touch; their Brute power is insufficient to save them from their own flesh being at boiling temperatures. One heroine suffers extensive third-degree burns from an enemy Blaster. One of the American heroes gets hit by a Master effects that drives him into mindless berserker rage and almost kills a teammate before being contained.

Still, in the end, your losses are minor compared to those suffered by the cartel. Del Duque is able to quickly organize an effective defense of the compound, helped by the tinkertech turrets, while the combination of Eidolon's powers and your own proves too overwhelming even for dozens of villains working together. Once the current batch is neutralized, ten, twenty minutes pass. It doesn't look like further reinforcement is coming, and meanwhile, the team's healer has taken care of the burn victim. With Del Duque's permission, you focus your attention on fixing the mind of the Master's victim - thankfully, the damage does appear fixable. That is not always the case.

"...Ninety-seven villains captured, including Deadmask and four of his top five lieutenants. 266 unpowered men and women arrested," Excellente summarizes that evening. "By our best estimates, that leaves between twenty and thirty villains who never reached the compound. Normally we'd be concerned about attempts to break their comrades out, but… that's not going to be an issue I believe."

You'd rather hope not. Once you were done securing the compound and assisting the casualties, you spent several very busy hours helping the Protectorate sort through the arrested, placing the villains in various Lockboxes depending on individual powers (and risks of synergy with the powers of fellow inmates), going with permission through the minds of dozens of unpowered arrests to determine if they should be released or properly investigated…

But in the end, nearly a hundred villains and and even larger number of unpowered criminals were arrested. A message was sent. The dismantling of the Omega Cartel Will make things just a little bit easier for Mexico's heroes, and hopefully tells the other cartels to tone it down a bit.

"Well, it looks like this went about as well as we could have hoped," Excellente muses. "Good job. Omega won't be coming back. From the looks of it, in the hours following your attack on the compound, over a dozen places they owned got raided - weapon stashes, drug stashes, you name it. Rival cartels cannibalizing Omega for parts."

"No surprise," says Del Duque. "Did we beat any of them to the punch?"

"Other than the main compound itself? A few places. We seized over 200 kilos of cocaine in Tepeji, and raids on Omega-owned brothels got a lot of people out who weren't there by choice. Including dozens of kids. This is a victory, gentlemen, and you have my congratulations."

"Thank you," Eidolon says politely. "Now what?"

"We have a situation in Merida that can use your help," Excellente tells him, then turns toward you. "As for you… you have no need for sleep or rest, correct?"

"Correct."

"Well. I want you to patrol Mexico City, specifically the highlighted neighborhoods," he says, giving you a map. "Focus on locating weapon caches. We can't remove all the cartels, but we can force them to tone down the violence in the streets."

You spend the next nine hours patrolling the streets of the national capital with three of the local heroes. A combination of long-range, low-light, wall-passing vision and the mental super-speed needed to analyze all you see makes those nine hours eventful - you stop one mugging, one burglary, one case of police violence, two cases of domestic violence and three rapes, take note of five cases of suspected domestic and/or child abuse to be investigated during daytime, find and release two girls (one teenager and one preteen) that were held in captivity in someone's basement, locate three notable drug caches (the largest one containing almost four kilograms of cocaine), and raid multiple weapon caches for a grand total of slightly over three hundred firearms and a comparable amount of ammunition, as well as some explosives.

"You really are as good as they say," a teammate named Angel Verde comments on the way back to HQ. "I think we put a bigger dent into crime in a single night than I normally would in three months!"

"Don't get too excited," says the one named Asalto. "In a city this big, that's a drop in the ocean. Those dirty cops will walk. Muggings and rapes happened in plenty of other streets. The junkies will find other suppliers. One busy night isn't gonna make a difference on its own."

"Made a difference to a bunch of people," Angel Verde counters. "And we'll be here the next night as well."

"It's important to keep in mind that the job is far from done," you allow. "At the same time, we shouldn't let how much is left to do blind us to the good we do manage. Our victories kindle our hopes, keep us driven in the face of overwhelming odds. Celebrate last night's victories, prepare for tonight's battles."

Once again, you are thankful that a quick burst of super-speed allows you to quickly handle all the paperwork for last night's activities. You've specified that, while you're going to be based in Mexico City for the foreseeable future, you still require ample time for your more international activities, in particular your work with the Guild.

You also take a moment to check on the news.

The Mexican news cycle is unsurprisingly focused on their nation's joining of the Protectorate and the myriad aspects and complications of the whole matter. Right now, a significant portion of that media attention is dedicated to the destruction of the Omega Cartel; Excellente's already given a media address explaining how Omega overstepped their bounds with their attack of the army base, how there was a degree of violence the nation would not tolerate from the cartels, how the operation combined both Mexican, American and Canadian heroes, and how the twenty Mexican heroes transferred to the Houston Protectorate were just part of a major successful operation against the neo-Confederate gang known as the Freedom Congress. Public opinion of the Protectorate ratification seems poised to go a few points up in the polls.

In Cuba, the news mention a law enforcement victory with one of the most powerful and violent villains in Havana being caught. There's speculation about the rest of his gang deliberately cutting him loose, retreating early in the fight.

In Nigeria, there's some opposition, both at the political and grassroot levels, to getting involved with Kolwezi - many Nigerians arguing that their nation is too fragile to waste resources on foreign affairs when several of its own cities are already held by warlords.

In Pakistan, an entire gang of villains that had fled the Kashmir region and tried to take some territory in Karachi were discovered by law enforcement, disabled and in various states of injuries. A drop in the bucket when nearly a thousand villains operate in the city, but…

In the United States, things are getting busy in Boston. You decide to check up on Weaver later today.

In Europe, the upgraded Brigade is getting set up. Much like the Mexico ratification, it's got some critics and some hopefuls.

In Vietnam, bits of border violence are happening that some fear may threaten the recent truce between some of the warlords.

In Chile, several hundred civilians were killed during a battle between rival warlords in Santiago.

In Indonesia, a police commissioner was arrested by Red White over connections to the Flesh Lords.

Well. Back to work.

"Lockbox 18 is now fully operational," Dragon confirms as you reenter the atmosphere, having placed the satellite prison in low Earth orbit. "Again, I have to thank you. Without your powers, the Lockboxes would have taken years of hard work and tens of billions of dollars to build, and that's before getting into the necessary political capital."

"It's a step in the right direction," you say, leaving it clearly implied more steps must be taken, "but I could not have done any of it without you and the other Tinkers."

It's far from perfect. Some villains, like Skylance, can still escape from any prison short of the Birdcage, and are thus confined to uninhabited dimensions (Fuji-Sama, meanwhile, has been transferred to a Lockbox). The tinkertech involved requires significant maintenance work (though Prochnost is getting handsomely paid to help with that). And while you're not the only person in the Protectorate who can take prisoners in and out, the number of capes able to do it is still troublingly small.

But there's no doubt that it offers a very valuable middle ground between the life sentence of the Birdcage and the mostly symbolic use of regular prisons for supervillains bound to escape them. The Protectorate and several allied nations are already starting to make use of the Lockboxes, and the European Brigade has been given access to the system.

You also take a few minutes to check on Weaver and Naguib. They're doing as well as can be expected, you suppose.

"Don't get me wrong. The people of Nigeria have my full sympathy. But the Japanese economy is already stretched to the breaking point handling the Kyushu refugees. With Skylance gone, we are finally able to address the problem, but that still leaves two million people who need to be housed, fed, clothed," says the prime minister. "I will strive to convince the Diet to offer a measure of support, but I neither promise nor expect much - especially since Japan already contributes multiple heroes to the Guild."

"I understand the difficulties you face," you reply. "However, when you speak to the Diet, please tell them this: Before the Sundering, Japan was one of the most powerful and prosperous nations on Earth. After the Sundering, two decades passed with little to no improvement. Now, Leviathan is dead, Skylance is gone. If Japan makes a significant contribution to the welfare of other nations - if it provides great assistance to the rest of the world - well, what better way of telling your own people that a new page has turned, and that your nation is not staying stuck in a pit of despair? What better way to restore hope and optimism?"

He considers your words for a while, then gives a calculating smile. "...I believe I can work with that."

You've been seeing a number of politicians the world over today. You believe that between them, they'll provide sufficient material aid to get Lagos back on its feet quickly.

Notably, Israel has pledged fairly significant relief efforts for Lagos and Kolwezi both, at least for a country its size. From your reading of Earth-Bet's geopolitics, while Israel has a peace treaty with the Palestinian State, it lives in fear of the various parahuman warlords plaguing the Middle East, and would very much like to see a stabilized international community it could call upon for help should things go South.

"We are already spending significant resources and taking a major political risk with Kolwezi. Now you want us to risk our single best cape team on the other side of the continent?!"

Present at the meeting are certain Kenyan politicians, Kenya's director of parahuman affairs, the Nigerian ambassador, and Narwhal. You see their point… but Kenya's Pentagon would be an extremely useful team to have in Lagos.

"I understand your concerns. Kenya has plenty of its own problems to deal with. But remember that we are trying to make Africa as a whole safer, and that can only be accomplished together. Nigeria and the Guild will both owe your nation a debt of aid in return."

"A debt the Guild will repay as soon as possible," says Narwhal. "I'm sure you can think of a few things we could help with. And that's before getting into the benefits the Pentagon is getting from working with Dragon and other foreign Tinkers."

Very true. Leonardo has been practicing with his version of Prochnost's robustness specialization, upgrading the tinkertech force-fields the Pentagon uses - which in turn frees Fortress, their Tinker, to spend time working on additional gadgets. By all accounts, it's been a mutually profitable collaboration.

The meeting takes several hours, but is ultimately successful: The government agrees to have the Pentagon participate in the liberation of Lagos. In exchange, they expect assistance with parahuman affairs from Nigeria and the Guild both in the near future… and more immediately, they have you spend the necessary time afterward cleaning up the "Brown Spot", an agricultural area several miles wide that had to be abandoned seven years ago when a battle with a Shaker who could manifest poisonous gases left dangerous levels of toxicity in the soil. It's only a tiny fraction of Kenya's total farmland, but it holds some symbolic value.

Your second day in Mexico City, rather than a full-out battle with an entire cartel, involves some high-visibility appearances, a speech in front of city hall, patrolling both the fancier districts and (at your request) some of the poorest neighborhoods… and freeing Espada.

Espada was an independent heroine who appeared on the scene in 2006; her power allowed her to cleanly bisect any nonliving object she touched. She partnered with fellow independent hero Stop, a Striker with a power similar to Clockblocker's, except it only worked on living things and lasted until he touched the time-frozen person again. The pair achieved some degree of visibility in 2007 when they fought, defeated and captured a cartel-affiliated Tinker who'd been using an armored urban hovercraft.

Unfortunately, less than two months later, the duo and a third hero who'd joined in the intervening time got into a bloody battle with villains; the third hero was killed and Espada grievously injured. Stop used his power on her to prevent her from bleeding to death, but was himself killed before he could unfreeze her. Her prone, bloodied, unmoving form has remained in the middle of the street for over four years now.

It's less awful than what's happened to Grey Boy victims. But there's no reason to let it go uncorrected. Which is why, flanked by a healer cape, you unfreeze the heroine. She'll have a lot to deal with… but at least she's free and alive.

Evening falls upon Mexico City. Your patrols have resulted in several further arrests and rescues. The next few hours are spent with the Guild and a number of allies, finalizing preparations for the Lagos battle.

"Your request has been considered and approved," says a Nigerian representative. "The Doctor and Harvest will be captured alive if at all possible, and given the opportunity to serve in civilian capacity for a few years as an alternative to prison."

"I still don't like it," says Doctor Metal. "They're murderers."

"I don't like it either," says Captain Hydro, "but they can help hundreds of thousands of people, and Nigeria's in a fragile state. We can't be picky."

"There are limits."

"Well, yeah. It's not like we're recruiting Lustucru."

The Pentagon is present, discussing strategy with Nigerian capes. The newest Guild recruits - Dauntless, Ninja Roja, Centuria, Wing Warrior, Go-Go - are all present. You've got a few more hours to prepare - the Guild and its allies have been going over this plan for days.

And then… well. You know the plan.

107

sun tzu

Mar 25, 2018

View discussion

Threadmarks Liberating Beleaguered Lagos

View content

sun tzu

Jan 10, 2019

#39

LIBERATING BELEAGUERED LAGOS

[X] Both Excellente and Del Duque might react poorly to you listening in on the latter and then going above his head. Just ask Del Duque in private what this was all about.
[X] Steamroller: Strike one part of town hard and fast. Establish control. Move on to the next. Rinse, repeat.

Then:

Not too long after the Omega compound has been handled, you take the time to speak to Del Duque. The blue-suited luchador-themed Thinker is getting started with paperwork, but shows no sign of annoyance at your interruption.

"May I help you?"

"I had a question, if you have the time."

"I always have time for the Avatar," he grins under his mask.

You smile politely. "Back at the compound, there was a parahuman. Deadmask referred to him as 'Singul'."

Under the mask, Del Duque raises an eyebrow with an amused expression. His heart rate does not pick up. He wordlessly gestures for you to continue.

"From the sound of it, he wasn't part of Omega himself, but owed Deadmask a lot of money. One reason he was happy to see him arrested. You accused him of smuggling and murder, but let him go when he handed you a piece of paper."

"I suppose murder would be technically correct," Del Duque muses, "though I doubt Singul has ever killed anyone who wouldn't have gladly killed him first if given the chance. He's been on our radar for a couple years. A Thinker, definitely, though the exact details of his power have not been confirmed. Presumably he has some Tinker friend maintaining his gadgets, though we haven't identified permanent associates. Mostly, Singul specializes in smuggling across the Northern border - drugs, weapons, tinkertech, and principally people.

"Now, understand that there is a diverse spectrum of characters involved with the illegal movement of people across the border. On the least palatable end of the spectrum, you have human traffickers who either con or outright kidnap men, women and children to be used as slave labor in America, be it in the sex trade or various forms of industry. On the other hand, there exists a handful of small operations that effectively moves people North as a pro bono service, usually to help them escape from the cartels.

"Singul operates somewhere in the middle. He will frequently charge desperate people most of the money they have to help them escape to the North, but he will also direct them away from the abusers and toward groups and allies in the USA who will provide them with genuine assistance once they get there. His motivation is and remains lucre, but he has moral standards that many villains lack.

"A few weeks back, some of our heroes on the border managed to seize a cocaine shipment belonging to the Omega Cartel. The man moving it escaped, and we are almost entirely certain it was Singul. It would explain the money he owed Deadmask.

"As for the deal we struck with him…" Del Duque fishes for a piece of paper. You see a number of notes on it. "Feel free to do some digging in your own time. In short, he was tipping us off about some of the less palatable human traffickers. In the middle of the operation, I judged that this information was more valuable than arresting him."

Nothing about Del Duque's body language suggests any duplicity. You suppose you should probably look into those notes, but for now… "I would probably have made the same call."

"Indeed. One minor smuggler, versus major flesh peddlers? An easy trade in my opinion."

Now:

"We've gone over it with Forecast. The numbers often change, but an emerging pattern is that attacking Blood Count's territory first leads to massive civilian casualties."

"Probably because that's what they're expecting, and preparing for," says Narwhal. "Blood Count is an A-class threat and his power ramps up. Taking him out first is the obvious thing to do… and my best guess is, the Lagos warlords are setting traps for us if we try to do that."

"Then we'll do the next best thing," says Spark Brain. "We'll go after Choker."

The leader of Nigeria's National Parahuman Alliance, Spark Brain has naturally been playing a central role in planning this op. His Thinker power is supposed to be a secret, but Tattletale figured out he hears and sees things related to his goals regardless of distance - the more relevant and useful, the greater the chance that he will randomly see or hear it.

You honestly think there's more useful things for Tattletale to do with her limited power usage than figuring out the secrets of your allies, but she seems to have a compulsive need to one-up other Thinkers. At least she didn't blab it in front of everyone…

Spark Brain goes on: "All of these people are large-scale killers, but Choker is the most enthusiastic mass-murderer of the bunch, with a power that lives and breathes collateral damage." No pun intended, you assume. "He is staying at the edge of his territory, ready to invade Blood Count's territory once we move in. If we start there, we have good odds of neutralizing him before he can start killing hundreds of people."

"Unfortunately, the moment we show up, Blood Count will begin ramping up, which not only makes him a harder target but also threatens all the people he drains. Dragon's satellite view, combined with the Nigerian Thinkers, will detect if the telltale signs of exhaustion appear in any given neighborhood; if people start collapsing, the spearhead squad led by the Avatar is to head there, find Blood Count, and put him down. Use of lethal force as a first resort is expressly authorized in his specific case."

Which doesn't mean you won't try to take him alive if you can… but depending on circumstances, you might not have that luxury. Blood Count is a recidivist mass murderer and his powers are a frequent cause of collateral damage.

Narwhal resumes. "Blood Count aside, our strategy is to focus on taking a neighborhood, eliminating enemy forces and fortifications there, allowing the Nigerian military backed by NPA forces to arrive, protect them while they consolidate their positions, and move to the next neighborhood." Over 12,000 soldiers outfitted for urban warfare and a large number of parahumans will be involved with that, brought from all over the country - even if only a smaller subset will be working with the Guild and Pentagon as the spearhead. "This isn't going to be like Kolwezi or Santiago. Lagos is gigantic. This operation will not be over in a single day.

"Assisting with every neighborhood we take will be the Kenya Pentagon…"

Five capes nod. Many countries, among their parahuman law enforcement, maintain one special elite group to handle the worsts crises. The Protectorate has the Triumvirate. France's Irréductibles have the Quatre As. Kenya, meanwhile, has the Pentagon:

Radar. The leader, and a powerful Thinker. Much like Miss Militia, she has perfect memory and doesn't sleep. More importantly, all of her senses are enhanced to vastly superhuman levels, providing her team with excellent battlefield awareness.

Kinesis. He can, by touching someone, slow their time by a factor of 50%. More importantly, that extra speed is taken by Kinesis himself, who can use it or give it to someone else; it lasts 52 minutes either way. The super-speed he gives his teammates has been key to their successes.

Kraken. Shaker. She can cause over 150 small portals to open in a 90-meter radius, with a mighty tentacle under her control emerging from each portal. She provides battlefield control.

Mamba. A striker. He can cause any chemical to appear inside the body of those he touches. He helps out at hospitals with his power, but he also knocks out supervillains with paralytics and narcotics (a task obviously made easier by the super-speed granted by Kinesis).

Finally, Fortress. Rated Tinker 7, she specializes in force-fields. Her personal protection devices, which she has given all her teammates, give them effective Brute ratings in the field - without which, the team would definitely have taken losses over the past years. She also spends most of her waking time in kinesis-granted super-speed just to keep up with the need to maintain tinkertech for both herself and her teammates; you suspect that she's aged several more years than her birth certificate would suggest.

Granted… her recent collaboration with Dragon and Leonardo means her regular tinkertech requires far less maintenance than before.

The synergy between the Pentagon's powers makes them very well-suited for maintaining control over a given battlefield. Furthermore, a select few capes will be getting a speed boost courtesy of Kinesis (only a few, because overuse of his powers leaves Kinesis debilitated by parahuman headaches). Kinesis generally recharges his power by taking speed from Kenyan inmates (non-consensual, but they're rotated and no serious harm is caused); since this operation will take longer than his power lasts, Strider will be bringing him in and out of Lagos as needed.

The Pentagon, of course, are hardly the only heroes that the Guild must coordinate with. A spearhead of NPA parahumans will be fighting by your side. The "third wave" of new Guild recruits (Dauntless, Ninja Roja, Centuria, Go-Go and Wing Warrior) will be joining the fray, and they all have their role in the plan.

"Like us, the Lagos villains will no doubt be relying on a mix of planning and improvisation," Narwhal goes on. "The Gadfly Squad's purpose is to perform low-cost attacks on targets of opportunity, in order to disrupt their ability to organize. The remote Thinker team will provide support," a group that includes Tattletale and Forecast, who has saved the day's questions for this, "and can hopefully steer us away from traps and counter their own Thinker resources."

There's some team exercises to prepare, but you cannot afford to take another day - more time passing is also time for your enemies to prepare, and Forecast has indicated that attack taking place later than today will face a much better-organized and more severe resistance.

The attack on Lagos begins in a flash. Strider teleports you, Celo, Dragon's latest suit, Doctor Metal, Dauntless, and a Nigerian Alexandria package half-a-mile above the city. Seconds later, your high-maneuverability, high-durability, hard-hitting squad is striking the location indicated by a combination of Thinker powers, Dragon's satellite footage, and your own enhanced senses.

What resistance stands in your way is crushed in a very short time; you detect hidden enemies, eliminate some explosives, blast paths through walls, and blast some armed thugs on the way. You make your way through the building, where a man sporting a white suit and facial scars smiles smugly while holding a dead man's switch in his hand. "And here we go," says the Choker. "Welcome to my humble city, champions of puppies, rainbows and sunshine! What's with all those serious faces? Now, I'd like to suggest a little game…"

Dragon gives you the confirmation signal. You blast the Choker unconscious. The dead man's switch clatters harmlessly on the floor.

Dragon and Doctor Volt spent some time collaborating on a device that could jam all radio communication outside of a few very specific frequencies across the city. Strider has placed it. Forecast gave excellent odds for this idea to improve the plan's results. The jamming both means that your enemies will have a much harder time reacting and coordinating, and that a number of tricks like the dead man's switch do not work.

Once Strider teleports all the knocked-out villains and minions to the ad hoc detention center, it's back to work. You establish a safe perimeter for Strider to bring in the Pentagon. The Pentagon's Radar immediately gets to work detecting and pointing out hidden weapons, hidden explosives, ambushes, and more. Additional heroes are teleported in to your beachhead within Lagos.

One warlord down. Six to go.

The next part of the plan is somewhat more fluid, informed by events as they unfold. According to the Thinker team and Forecast's shifting numbers, you need to take Conquest's part of the city next; a wall of soldiers and NPA heroes advances block by block, with the Guild and Pentagon staying ahead of them, taking out resistance as you encounter it.

Radar detects, at the edge of her power's range, a group wearing Conquest's colors who are running toward the center of her area; three of them aren't holding their weapons, suggesting capes. You head toward them with twenty of Centuria's projections (all armed with assault weapons) and Celo (following from a safe altitude and ready to intervene).

The sight of you showing up in person clearly shocks them. One of the armed men shoots at you and misses.

"Ladies and gentlemen," you say, "I strongly advise that you surrender."

"Fuck you!" screams one of the presumed capes, then shouts at another: "Fuck him up, Deathblow!"

The cape apparently named Deathblow stares at you, bug-eyed. "I… I can't."

"Fuck yes you can! You're the only one of us who can!"

Hm. Just what kind of power does he have?

Regardless, Deathblow takes a step backward. "I… no, I mean… It's the Avatar. He killed Leviathan. He killed the Simurgh. He saved Kolwezi. I… I can't kill him. That's… That's not fucking right."

"You fucking cowa-" The other cape's hand, suddenly glowing, aims at Deathblow. Reacting at superhuman speed, you take her out before she can do anything. An instant later, you're hovering in the middle of the group.

"Anyone else want to cause trouble?" you ask.

The armed men hesitate for a second before dropping their guns. Deathblow and the third cape get down on their knees.

And with that, the advance resumes. Centuria's projections, being expendable, keep playing an important scouting role.

"Satellite footage shows Conquest is gathering her forces," says Dragon, "and it looks like they're able to maintain radio contact. I think they're using some kind of tinkertech for it."

"Oh, I see," comes Tattletale voice. "That's her power. She has a Thinker ability that tells her in advance what she's going to need."

"So how well-prepared is she going to be?" asks Narwhal.

Tattletale hesitates for a moment. "She'll be prepared for our general plan, not for sudden improvisations. Her power isn't that good," she says with a hint of smugness.

"As our original plan stands," you say, "the Gadfly Squad would be running interference to sabotage her attempts at rallying her forces. What if we improvise by having the Pentagon and some of the Guild teleport in the middle of Conquest's territory, opening a second front?"

There's some back-and-forth discussing the plan before Forecast asks her question. "42.7296% chances of heavy losses if you enact that plan."

Ah. Maybe not a good idea, then. You try to think of-

"Shit," says Wing Warrior. "It's not because of Conquest. It's because of Blood Count!"

"Wing Warrior, what do you mean?" says Narwhal.

"Dragon's been watching, but we haven't seen any sign of him draining people yet. There's no way he isn't powering up. He must have found some way to power up discreetly - probably an underground room stuffed with prisoners or something. By the time we finish enacting the plan against Conquest, he'll have become powerful enough to mess this all up!"

"...Shit, he's right," says Tattletale.

Narwhal pauses. "How confident are you about everything you just said?"

"Positive," Tattletale replies.

"The part about Blood Count secretly powering up? Almost completely sure. It makes sense," says Wing Warrior. "The part about him being the reason we suffer casualties if we enact the Conquest plan? That part I'm not sure of. 80%, maybe?"

"I can ask," says Forecast. "I don't have a lot of questions left, but I can ask."

You think quickly (with Kinesis's boost and your own mental acceleration helping). Conquest being able to organize an effective defense could seriously hurt your plan; she could buy time for the remaining warlords to react, possibly inflict important casualties on your side. Blood Count ramping up is also a major threat; not only is he very likely draining people to death in the process, but if he reaches (or exceeds!) the highest power levels he's displayed in the past, he could become a very serious threat to the lives of the heroes and soldiers involved, not to mention likely to cause massive collateral damage. Regardless, actions must be taken quickly; in a battle, with or without superpowers, it is imperative that the enemy not be allowed to conserve nor take the initiative.

You could ask Forecast questions, but they are a limited resource. Narwhal is a competent leader, but she is faced with a choice with no clear answers that has her hesitating. You contact her directly, and, calling upon your long experience, give the best advice you can think of given the available information…

86

sun tzu

Jan 10, 2019

View discussion

Threadmarks The Battle of Lagos

View content

sun tzu

Jan 30, 2019

#40

THE BATTLE OF LAGOS

[X] Plan Foreknowledge: Ask Forecast about the odds of heavy casualties with one of the plans. If the odds are low, go for it. If not, go for the best-sounding plan among the others.
-[X][Foreknowledge]: Ask about Plan Multiprong.
-[X][Multiprong]: Have Kinesis accelerate the entire anti-Conquest spearhead to improve their odds.
-[X][Multiprong]: If the opportunity presents itself, use luck manipulation to assist the anti-Conquest spearhead.
-[X] Second most popular plan: Van Helsing

You dip into some additional mental super-speed to consider the angles. Trying to figure out what the best approach here is, calling upon both your knowledge of the situation and inhumanly extensive experience. With that done, you call the mission leader.

"Narwhal, may I make some suggestions?"

"Speak," she replies.

"We can't afford to wait for Blood Count to ramp up, nor can we afford to wait for Conquest to organize her defenses. Our advantages are high mobility, good coordination and a powerful spearhead. I think our best shot is to simultaneously have Strider drop the Pentagon and a team of heavy hitters in the middle of Conquest's territory to sow chaos in her plans, while I hunt Blood Count down with Thinker support. I can accompany them for the first few minutes to prevent any kind of ambush or plan Conquest has drafted up from harming the spearhead; Kinesis can accelerate every one of its members by a factor of two, three, maybe four, and most of the tinkertech provided by Toybox can be deployed there."

"That will likely burn Kinesis out for the next few hours."

"I know, but this is the phase for which Kinesis's boost is most useful. However," you amend, "considering the risks involved… I think taking Forecast up on her offer would be the right call."

Asking Forecast questions is not to be done lightly. Partly because she is a child, and placing the weight of the world on her shoulders is something you wouldn't even consider if thousands of lives weren't at stake. Partly because she is one of the parahumans who easily get debilitating headaches if they overuse their power. And partly because, as a Ward, she is under contract with the PRT, which makes ample use of her powers to anticipate threats to Protectorate territory in general and Brockton Bay in particular; while the PRT authorizes her work with the Guild (as it does yours), overusing the limited resource that is her power would strain the working relationship you have with them.

Narwhal takes a few seconds to consider and comes to a decision.

"1.93095% chances of heavy casualties if you follow this plan," says Forecast.

Worse than you'd hoped, but certainly better than you'd feared. It was unlikely that any plan for a battle on this scale to have quasi-nil odds of heavy casualties.

"That'll have to be good enough," says Narwhal.

Kinesis grants quadruple speed to Chevalier, Narwhal, Aura, Dauntless, Celo, Doctor Metal, Entropisch, two of the most resilient NPA heroes, the rest of the Pentagon, and you. This leaves him wracked in pain; he does it all without complaining, determined to get the job done.

A combination of Thinker powers and Dragon's satellites has found five locations deep within Conquest's territories that look like judicious "landing spots". Calling upon fate manipulation, you decree that you will pick a safe location. Your power directs you toward the fourth of the five locations. Expanding your senses and accelerating your mind, you reach it at hypersonic speed, spending several objective seconds scouting it for traps, ambushes, and hidden parahumans. Switching to full super-speed, you take out two groups of armed men, then signal Strider.

The next moment, the Kinesis-accelerated capes and Dragon's suit are teleported to the location; Entropisch instantly covers the area in her anti-damage power, while Kraken summons her 150 combat tentacles. Then, Toybox's gifts are deployed.

From your understanding, Toybox has provided over a thousand man-hour's worth of Tinkers' work for this operation. Their contributions include a dozen hawk-sized drones (equipped with tinkertech sensors, sophisticated combat algorithms, sufficient defenses to survive small arms fire, and one-shot containment foam dispensers), a handful of power armors (not on the level of Doctor Metal's or Dragon's, but impressive nonetheless), advanced comm equipment, a "cannon" that precisely teleport small payloads across multiple miles, and shells of tinkertech knockout gas. Right now, the drones are being deployed across Conquest's territory; the teleport-cannon, loaded with the knockout shells, has been placed inside the Choker's territory and stands ready to take out distant targets as they are found; the power armors, meanwhile, protect some of the more vulnerable capes that must be deployed.

You stay with the spearhead for only a minute, making sure they can set up a defensive perimeter. After that it'll be time to hunt; every minute you afford Blood Count makes him more dangerous.

"Forecast," Narwhal calls, "what are the odds that the Avatar will find Blood Count over the coming hour if he spends all that time searching for him in Blood Count's territory?"

"0.229306%," Forecast's voice says with a slight wince. Unless a truly catastrophic issue arises, you imagine that'll be the last question she answers today.

"Figured," Narwhal sounds like she's biting down a curse. "If the warlords decided to work together to prepare for this… Makes sense one of them would give him a place to hide and power up where we wouldn't look. Thinkers?"

There's some chatter. One NPA Thinker has a power-granted intuition against you going to Sun Gun's territory. Then Tattletale, with what you now recognize as the tinge of headache in her voice, speaks up: "It's the General. Spark Brain glimpsed his men transporting slaves and prisoners yesterday. They were setting up some kind of pit for Blood Count to hide in and power up."

"How confident are you?"

"I'm sure. I'm… 95% sure."

Narwhal doesn't waste a second. "Avatar, take Silver Crusader with you."

Silver Crusader, in addition to his usual equipment, is wearing a Toybox-provided power armor. Nonetheless, you keep him protected in a force-field bubble as you bring him with you, searching the General's territory as fast as you can.

"My power usually works best on longer durations," the New York Thinker/Tinker says apologetically, "but I've used it in emergencies before. OK, head to…" he hesitates, "that radio tower over there."

Instants later - enhanced speed combined with your usual hypersonic flight - you're both inside the radio tower. Some men in the uniforms indicative of the General's minions raise their machine guns; you neutralize them before they can even shoot. Two other men were desperately working with the radio equipment (presumably, trying to get past Dragon and Doctor Volt's jamming); they stop what they're doing and stare at you in terror, shouting their surrender as soon as the shock has passed.

You have no time to waste. "I am looking for Blood Count. Do you know where he is?" you ask, carefully slowing your voice to compensate for the super-speed.

They look at each other in confusion. "Blood Count? This is the General's territory." "No idea, I swear!"

You use your enhanced senses to take one more cautious look around, then drop them and switch to mind-reading, starting to delve into the mind of the one on the left, looking for any useful memory. "Do you know anything about recent movements of slaves and prisoners, then?"

Your interrogation is interrupted by Silver Crusader, who's been quickly going through the communication logs. "Found it! They've been moving hundreds of prisoners recently to a place called the 'Blue Complex'."

At that, the radio operator on the right reacts. "That's in Lagos Island! Right between city hall and Freedom Park!"

Well then.

A second later, you message Strider. The Mover reaches your location, then teleports away again with Silver Crusader in tow - Silver Crusader's abilities do not make him someone who should venture anywhere near a powered-up Blood Count. And so, putting all your cosmic power pool into enhanced speed (which seems to have a multiplicative effect with Kinesis's boost), you fly toward the Blue Complex.

You have seen a lot of horrors across the span of human History. What's inside the complex does not even come close to the top ten, by any stretch of the imagination. It is a horror nonetheless.

How many men, women and children in cages here? A thousand? Something close. All of them, at best exhausted, clinging to the bars that hold them; hundreds of others, less fortunate, lie on the ground, unconscious or worse. In the midst of it all, a hovering villain clad in red who gives you a feral grin. "Took you long enough," says Blood Count.

You blast him.

The blast harmlessly goes through him and then the wall. Illusionary copies… from past observations of Blood Count's battles, that's among the abilities he manifests after extensive charging. In all likelihood, he is at least as powerful now as he's ever been.

Still at superspeed, you fly closer. At this range, your cosmic senses confirm that the villain you targeted is a mere holographic image. But to drain everyone in the complex, the real one can't be very far…

"Below! He's below!" one of the prisoners manages to shout with her waning strength.

With her warning, you go several feet high, granting you a precious fraction of a second to react when the floor below you explodes upward, a red tentacle twice thicker than you are wide surging from below toward you at speeds that would put a cobra snake to shame. With your speed, you note that the bits of concrete touched by the tentacle are disintegrating mid-air - disintegrating touch being another one of Blood Count's abilities. You manage, if only barely, to blast the tentacle, obliterating it.

As the hole in the ground widens, you see Blood Count below - now using his shapeshifting ability to grant himself a monstrous, tentacled form, grinning as he readies to strike you again. You blast him. He dodges.

…That was definitely super-speed he was using. There are no records of Blood Count having super-speed in any previous fight. Is this confirmation that he is powered up beyond his previous record? With this many people to drain, you wouldn't be surprised.

Still, you suspect your current speed exceeds his. Another blast actually hits him… which proves to be more of an inconvenience than anything else for the villain. Another power he's never displayed before: His body is now made of a liquid that reforms after being hit by your blasts. This, presumably, is in addition to the toughness and regeneration he gets much earlier in and the force-fields that protect him (which, while able to stop a Stinger missile, are apparently not enough to stop your blasts).

Another ability you know he gets in a late stage: Massive electric surges that spread outward from himself. You can see the sparks beginning to emerge.

You've fought electricity-controllers in crowded locations before. You know how bad it can get.

In a fraction of a second, you crate a massive mesh of copper wires all around Blood Count. The electric surge gets dispersed harmlessly into the ground.

He teleports again - this time, right behind you, too close for you to dodge as a tentacle slaps you into the floor, shattering concrete. Pain surges through you as the disintegration effect unmakes skin and several millimeters of flesh underneath the skin. You suspect a lot of Brutes would have died instantly.

Still, he's close enough for you to try to just block his parahuman abilities like you did with Fuji-Sama and-

And he's teleported out of range. Super-speed, plus an unknown Thinker power that's allowed him to see attacks from hidden enemies coming. Danger sense?

This isn't good. You're fighting him in an area full of injured civilians, and he might be able to keep draining them even while fighting. Every attack, from him or you, runs the risk of killing people. You need to get him away from them.

Thankfully, you already have something in the wings for that.

Blood Count's eyes go wide with surprise, and he teleports out of your sight a few milliseconds before Toybox's teleport-cannon sends a shell full of knockout gas inside the complex. Less than a second later, Dragon's coordination algorithms inform you that he has been observed via satellite, flying above the complex.

You switch from super-speed to pure mental super-speed. You need a few seconds to think.

Blood Count's defensive powers mean that your physical attacks might not be able to take him down. His speed and Thinker ability make taking him by surprise dicey. What do you do in such a situation?

You think back to Justicia Prima, one of the founding members of the Global Champions, and her fight against the chief enforcer of the Cartel Carmesi. To Techno-Paladin and Mimic tag-teaming against Nollius. What do you do in such a situation? You use an attack that bypasses his defensive powers, and you get him to defend against the wrong attack.

You fly out of the complex, abandoning any speed-boost other than the one Kinesis gave you. You are definitely slower than Blood Count now. A calculated risk.

Your hand glows as you gather power. Then, you launch a massive blast toward your foe.

This blast is powerful enough that it could kill an Endbringer if it hit the right spot. It is not, however, very fast. Blood Count doesn't even bother teleporting, dodging it instead with contemptuous ease while giving you an equally contemptuous sneer.

Which is when, using your cosmic power pool, you unleash a barrage of raw psychic force at his mind; using fate-manipulation, you declare that the mental assault overcomes his defenses. Blood Count makes a strangled sound, losing altitude as he cannot maintain the concentration to keep flying.

The next instant, you are right next to him. The instant after that, you drop him on another plane - an Earth where life never developed. One where Blood Count has nothing to drain, no way to maintain his power.

You create oxygen bottles, making sure he doesn't suffocate in the oxygen-free atmosphere. Then it's back to Earth-Bet and Lagos.

"Blood Count down. I'm dispersing the knockout gas from the complex. Requesting urgent medical help for the civilians."

While you were busy with Blood Count, the bulk of heroic and military forces were making steady progress marching through Conquest's territory. Conquest had a number of killboxes, hidden explosives, snipers and parahuman ambushes planned. The presence of the spearhead smack dab in the middle of her territory makes all those plans significantly harder to pull off, especially when Radar and Kraken keep advancing; the latter keeps maintaining an area of control, while the former keeps detecting traps, often acting as a spotter for Dauntless and the teleporter-cannon. The tinkertech drones also play an important recon role. Celo, immune as she is to most of the more exotic parahuman abilities, combines her Alexandria package with her Kinesis-granted speed to demolish ambushing supervillains; those too tough for her are handled by Dragon, Narwhal, Chevalier, Doctor Metal, and Nigerian heroes. All the while, a wall of heroes and soldiers slowly advances from Choker's territory and into Conquest's.

When you join the fray, you're not even a game-changer in this battle - merely a useful heavy-hitter among many. You spend some time getting directed to hunt down and neutralize the enemy's tinkertech comms.

Less than two hours later, Radar finds Conquest in her bunker. She's smart enough to surrender without a fight.

Conquest may have folded once all her plans had failed, but the General seems determined to pull out all the stops. Parahumans, heavy military equipment… he appears determined to inflict maximum losses on your forces.

The plan you end up enacting is the joint brainchild of Sunblade and Surdoué. A Guild spearhead ventures deep inside enemy territory, appearing to have overreached and left a large group of Nigerian soldiers and capes undefended. Minutes later, an assault group of flying villains (including the General himself) and a tinkertech gunship attack them.

Between Narwhal's force-fields, a force-field designed by Fortress, and Entropisch, they are all well-protected. Some of the heroes were hiding among the soldiers, others are teleported in by Strider. Chubster, proving himself the superior flyer, rams the General mid-air and then slams him into the ground, where Mamba knocks him out with a single touch long enough for him to be foamed. Météore blasts an enemy cape out of the sky. Myrddin takes out several others. Go-Go teleports on the outside of the gunship, and teleports away after placing a limpet mine.

With the General defeated, you switch to a wide-area holographic communication power, letting everyone in his territory see the captured warlord. Most remaining villains and minions surrender, and you only need a few hours to secure what's left of his territory.

According to the medical crew, of the 1,079 civilians in the Blue Complex, 998 look like they'll pull through. You quickly jaunt to the lifeless Earth; Blood Count, by this point, is almost completely depowered and on his last oxygen bottle. It is trivially easy to place him in a Lockbox.

From the General's territory, the next step is Harvest's section of the port area. By now, enough hours have passed that the remaining warlords are not crippled by disorganization, but you're holding nearly a third of the city.

Nonetheless, caution is warranted. Harvest produces a lot of biological weapons for her minions, and as such, this part of the assault largely relies on heroes who are not vulnerable to such attacks. Yourself, Dragon, Aura, three NPA heroes, Centuria, and a number of power-armored heroes such as Doctor Metal and Wing Warrior. Plus the surviving drones.

Even so, the need for caution makes this a long slog. Forecast takes a nap. Even a lot of the adult capes are tired. Most will need to rest after this phase - humans can only maintain a state of high alert for so long without needing to recharge.

By the time you reach Harvest and easily take down her guards, she's holding a tinkertech dead man's switch. "My algae farms produce food for hundreds of thousands of people!" she screams at you. "If I let go, they'll be incinerated! Good luck keeping everyone fed then!"

"I wouldn't advise it," you tell her calmly. "The prospect of using your algae farms is the only reason the Nigerian government is willing to not throw you in the Birdcage, and even that required some convincing on my part."

She gulps. Some tense minutes of negotiations later, Harvest comes in quietly, the destruction mechanism switched off.

The next few hours are spent spent defending your territory, responding to emergencies, and launching quicks raids of opportunity in enemy territory along with a fraction of the capes assigned to this operation; the bulk of your forces consolidate positions and rest.

Once that is done, it's time to invade Sun Gun's area. Kinesis, who says his headaches have mostly abated, is back in action and granting extra speed to a handful of heroes.

Sun Gun and her minions make a valiant effort at guerrilla warfare against your advance, but once again, a combination of Dragon's satellites, Radar's Thinker power, the recon drones, and your own enhanced senses makes it a losing proposition. The Guild's Hazard and Globe struggle with a particularly powerful Brute, until Harmonic's sonic power takes him down. Laser Fist and Iron Snake manage to take down five villains in as many seconds. The Guild's Radiant, her power charged up to very high levels, punches a Changer with a metal form through concrete walls.

Captain Hydro, while using her water control to take out a squad of armed minions, gets ambushed and blasted by Sun Gun herself, the latter benefiting from a Mover's support. It's only the protection from one of Toybox's power armors that saves Captain Hydro from being incinerated on the spot by the powerful light beam, but even then, she suffers horrible injuries as the armor starts melting around her. Sun Gun does not get to celebrate; Multi-Hit was only a couple blocks away, and his speed allows him to arrive in time to take her out. After that, you get called in yourself, quickly disintegrating the melted armor around Hydro; you use your cosmic power pool to boost your regeneration when Voodoo, teleported in by Strider, transfers Hydro's extensive third-degree burns to you. Hydro lives.

Blood Count may be down, but his territory remains large and full of hostiles. When you get there…

Earlier:

Shifting your form to appear like Blood Count, you appear near the only villains of his group Dragon can locate right now.

They gaze at you in surprise. "Boss?"

You grin and, calling upon fate itself, declare that you will successfully trick them. "Guess who just ripped the Avatar to shreds."

The villains laugh and congratulate you in amazement about your victory. You stop them so you can say your piece: "I'm more powerful right now than I've ever been. I've got much better illusion powers now. After I killed the Avatar? I managed to make it look to the NPA and Guild like he defeated me."

"So what's the plan?"

"Plan is, I keep an illusion of the Avatar fighting on their side for now. Those idiots take all the other warlords out. Meanwhile, you get me all my Movers and keep chauffeuring me around my territory, so I can keep powering up with them none the wiser. Once they've taken out all my rivals? I'll be more powerful than Scion. Then I wipe them all out, and the whole city is mine."

Your plan draws the accolades of the villains. You tell them to gather your Movers while you go to the bathroom.

Once there, you are teleported out by Strider. Ninja Roja is teleported in. Her power is to be perceived as whoever people expect to see, meaning she can, for the coming hours, impersonate Blood Count. And since she is on Centro's list, the latter will know immediately if she needs to be bailed out.

Now:

Ninja Roja and Centro have done a fantastic job over the past hours. Through carefully-managed trickery and deceit, 21 villains and over 140 minions from Blood Count's organization have been gathered in a single place.

Teleported knockout gas. Containment foam. High-speed attacks.

They don't stand a chance. Following that, taking control of Blood Count's territory, while time-consuming, is relatively easy.

When you begin entering the Doctor's territory, you encounter almost no resistance. Concerns about ambushes are quickly allayed - the local villains have largely decided, by this point, that resistance was futile and that hiding until the fighting was over was the smart move.

Thing is, Nigeria will still need to maintain law and order in this city afterwards. Villains you don't capture today will be a headache tomorrow. And so, the Thinkers focus on hunting down hidden villains, as do you, patrolling the city while trying to sense the interplanar activity of an active corona gemma.

A couple hours and eleven captured villains later, it emerges that the Doctor has elected to escape from Lagos in the confusion.

Well. That won't do.

The hour that follows involves usage of Wing Warrior's sensor suite, Tattletale's deductions, Silver Crusader's Trail of Crumbs, Dragon trawling through satellite footage, a vision for Spark Brain, and a couple more Thinkers' input, but in the end, you find the small boat the Doctor and two allied capes were using; they were fifty miles away from the city by that point, apparently headed to Port Harcourt (another warlord-dominated city). They are quite aware that their boat would not survive a fight with you.

The capture of Lagos's seven major warlords does not mean the city is at peace. The Guild in general and you in particular, as well as the Pentagon, remain on hand for a while longer, helping the NPA and the military put out fires, locate weapon caches and capture straggler villains. All in all, the Guild's deployment lasts over 48 hours.

It is, however, a resounding victory. Of the 12,000 or so deployed soldiers, only 141 fatalities and less than 400 injuries. Of the superheroes deployed, only two fatalities and only 14 injuries. All the injured are quickly healed (sometimes through Voodoo transfering injuries to you, sometimes through NPA healers, in some cases through the Doctor), though some will need to take a few days off, like Hydro. On the civilian front, it's hard to get solid numbers, but it's estimated that fatalities are below 400, possibly below 300.

Meanwhile, three million Nigerian civilians no longer live under warlord rule. 304 villains have been eliminated, only 12 of them fatally. One of them, Blood Count, was an A-class threat.

"Obviously, this is going to have major repercussions on Nigeria," director Wayland explains at the Guild debriefing. "About 5% of their military and parahuman forces were dedicated to maintaining a security zone around Lagos. Now, in all likelihood, half of those forces will be maintaining order within the city, and the other half will be deployed in other parts of the country. For the warlords that control Port Harcourt, Benin City, and Zaria, it's a sign to be very, very afraid; for villains in other cities, this is a sign to forget any ambitions they might have had about becoming warlords in their own right.

"On a more mundane level, thanks to the Avatar's diplomatic efforts, international relief and support for rebuilding Lagos is already rolling in. Money, equipment, supplies and experts are all being sent. Internally, they're working the Doctor and Harvest; Harvest's tinker algae were feeding 200,000 people, and can probably feed twice as many once she's no longer building weapons for her minions.

"And Lagos is going to need all that help. Over the coming year, Nigeria is planning to bring in three million people there. Some of them former residents who left after Behemoth. Some of them homeless families from all over the country. This is going to be a major undertaking for their infrastructure and bureaucracy, but if they manage to pull it off, that's 2% of their population that's no longer homeless. In short, this is a huge win for Nigerian quality of life and stability."

"A win that you want to capitalize on," says Glenn Chambers. "Officially, the government is going to try to pass it off as the Guild repaying them for helping out in Kolwezi, but both they and their national public know this places them in your debt. Debt that you can leverage."

"Can we?" asks Doctor Metal. "The elected officials and the junta will break promises when it suits their needs, and they haven't promised us anything."

"No, but refusing you would still cost them," says Chambers. "Right now, the Guild is more popular than the government there. Associating with the Guild helps their image. Besides, they are entirely aware that they could need your help in the not-so-distant future - after all, they still have quite a bit of villains and warlords left to deal with. I'd say your leverage is real.

"The question, then, is what you choose to do with-"

He is interrupted by a loud thud as Météore drops a heavy stack of papers on the table. Without a word, Chambers begins reading the stack, going "hm" as he does.

"I'm seeing… political activists. Lawyers. Journalists. Politicians. All of them political prisoners," he says. "At least, looking at the first few files."

"Same for all of them," she confirms. "I've compiled a list of 98 Nigerian political prisoners. Human rights advocates. Democratic activists. People who want an end to the junta's emergency powers, or who have attacked a particularly corrupt politicians." She takes a deep breath. "Nigeria is… more democratic than it used to be, but the junta's emergency powers have put a check on that democracy since Behemoth. And a lot of the elected politicians are corrupt kleptocrats. I know we need Nigeria's help to unfuck Africa, but, I don't think we should forget that Nigeria needs to get unfucked as well. Nigeria needs to be better, especially if it's going to play at being the continent's cop."

"A valid concern," says Chambers, "and if the Nigerian government releases them right on the heels of the Lagos liberation, it can save face by claiming that their release is in response to to the national state of emergency going down a notch. Do not forget, at the same time, that the Guild remains indebted to Kenya - a debt you should repay as soon as possible. Here, there are two ways Nigeria may assist."

"The first," Wayland says, "is to request that Nigeria sends the Doctor to Kenya and have him tour their hospitals for a couple of weeks. He can heal a few thousand people, costing Nigeria very little in the process while providing a major PR coup."

"It'll mostly be the elites getting healed," says Celo.

"A disproportionately high percentage," says Chambers, his expression remaining neutral.

"The second," Wayland goes on, "is economics. Nigeria produces an excedent of food, oil, rubber and iron, all of which Kenya needs. With Leviathan dead, they've been working toward ramping up oversea exports, but the government could be convinced to subsidize shipments to Kenya instead. A relatively small cost for Nigeria, and a major boon for the Kenyan economy.

"Lastly… there is another thing you could ask of the Nigerian government." He selects some slides on the projector. "The neighboring country of Benin endured a short civil war in the late 90s due to parahuman insurgents who wanted to return the nation to its earlier Marxist-Leninist policies. At the time, Nigeria sent the NPA to act as peacekeepers and put an end to the civil war."

"And extract certain economic concessions from the government," Doctor Metal adds.

"However, after Behemoth's attack on Lagos, the NPA has proved much less willing to act outside of Nigerian borders. Over the past decade, parahuman villains in Benin have grown bolder and bolder. The democratic government still controls the densely-populated coastal region, but the 75% of the country North of it is ruled by various warlords, many of whom fight each other with frequent civilian losses for reasons ranging from power lust to religion to ideology.

"If the Guild's goal is to promote international cooperation, as I've come to understand it, then it might be a good start to request that Nigeria sends a peacekeeping force to assist Benin's government.

"To go back to the issue of repaying the Guild's debt to Kenya, however, there is an option that does not go through Nigeria. Over the past year, the city of Kisumu has seen the rise of a particularly vicious gang called the Death-Dealers. They have access to at least one powerful Stranger and probably more, likely have Thinker support, and have proven perfectly willing to break the Kenyan equivalent of the unwritten rules practiced by capes in Protectorate territory; they have been known to assassinate their enemies in their own home, take their families hostage, target city officials, and more. They started by preying on refugees, but are expanding their power, taking over smaller gangs, and are proving to be too much for local heroes to handle. Kenyan authorities don't want to risk the Pentagon against them, but, if the Guild were to remove the Death-Dealers from the equation, that would be one less national crisis for them to contend with."

"And as a side benefit, we would get to watch a bunch of Gesellschaft lovers and America First types blow a gasket about the Guild helping not one, but three African cities," Doctor Volt smiles wryly while looking at his smartphone. "Here, listen to this: US rep. Dunst is 'disappointed' that the Avatar is wasting time in Africa, and forgetting that his loyalties and those of the Guild should lie in making America safe again. Funny, I hadn't realized Brockton Bay was in Australia."

"No shit," Chubster rolls his eyes. "Dunst is the fucker who bitches every year about how Martin Luther King Day shouldn't be a national holiday. Just yesterday, he was throwing a fit about Mexican heroes arresting members of the Freedom Congress, because hey, fuck non-white members of the Protectorate, and of course he's gonna protect the parahuman klansmen. That's exactly the kind of stupid shit he says all year long."

Truth be told, it still amazes you on some level that on Earth-Bet, Doctor King has a national holiday in his honor. Back home, he is a controversial figure, reviled by much of the right for his positions on the unofficial segregation of suburbs, his role in the granting of Puerto-Rican statehood, and his long fight for economic justice. Yet in Earth-Bet, where racism is more virulent, he is seen in a much more positive light.

Then again, in Earth-Bet, you never gave him a protective amulet, he was killed in 1968, and the image most Americans have of him is "sanitized" so to be a lot less politicized.

"Speaking of…" Doctor Volt adds, "looks like while we were busy in Lagos, the European Brigade got its first deployment. The biggest parahuman gang in Athens tried to break one of their own out of jail, Greek heroes tried to stop them but were outnumbered seventy-to-fifty. Cue dozens of Brigade heroes deploying, including Ice Queen and that giant robot Tinker. The villains ran with their tails between their legs. Twelve arrests."

"A positive development," says Wayland, "but not everything has been good these past 48 hours. In Vietnam, the tensions between rival warlords Phosphor and Black Sun keep getting worse; their truce might not last at this rate."

"I could talk to them," you offer.

"That might help. Alternatively, the Guild could come down on the worst warlord in the country. The one who calls himself the General…"

"...Seriously?" Iron Snake mutters.

"...has been known to enslave large population and forcibly recruit large forces of child soldiers. If the Guild takes him down, it both cuts down on the atrocities and gives the other warlords incentive to behave."

"His territory will quickly be taken over by rivals. Including Phosphor and Black Sun," Surdoué points out.

"Neither of whom has a history of committing outright atrocities. Comparatively speaking."

Those are just some of the many, many areas that need help. The hunt for the Slaughterhouse Nine is still afoot. The Three Blasphemies remain the most feared non-Endbringer threat in Europe. Gesellschaft remains a force to be reckoned with, spreading its poison across the world. Asura keeps waging her shadow war against India's thanda heroes. Poland remains a terrible mess. And while neither Doctor Volt nor Celo nor Centro have complained, you are all too aware that so far, the only thing you've done to help South America has been taking down Wyld Hunter. Centro needs help waging her shadow war in Argentina, and in Brazil, the government could use the Guild's help retaking Belo Horizonte.

In addition to all of this, you have your own duties as a member of the Mexico City Protectorate. As you don't need sleep, you can dedicate a big chunk of the day to Protectorate work there… but what about the rest? How much of your time goes to Mexico City? How much to the Guild? How much to your own personal initiatives?

...You chuckle lightly at the thought that Bleu-Blanc-Rouge somehow manages to juggle simultaneous membership in the French Military, Task Force Synapse, and the Global Champions. And unlike you, he needs sleep.

Please consider donating to my . Thanks to those who have already donated!

91

sun tzu

Jan 30, 2019

View discussion

Threadmarks Reconstruction

View content

sun tzu

Aug 18, 2019

#41

RECONSTRUCTION

[x][Nigeria] Free activists: By requesting that Nigeria liberates the 98 political prisoners, you can push the country toward democracy, freedom and justice - a concern both because you're helping the government maintain control and because you want them to help police their neighbors.
[x][Nigeria] Provide food, oil, rubber and iron for Kenya: This will help rebuild the Kenyan economy and feed the massive population of refugees that have fled inside its borders.
[x][Guild] Maintain a focus on hunting down the Slaughterhouse Nine. They're frustratingly good at evading capture, but so far the pressure put on them is clearly giving them trouble, and they cannot hide forever.
[x][Guild] Take back Belo Horizonte. The government of Brazil is currently in control of only the city of Brasilia; taking another city back is the first step toward reclaiming the country (and repaying Doctor Volt).
[x][Guild] Take down the Death-Dealers. This powerful Kenya gang is no match for the Guild, and removing them from the field will help repay your debt toward the nation.
[x][Avatar] Help Centro build up her information network in Argentina. She's been extremely helpful to the Guild, and it could help liberate the country in the long run.
[x][Avatar] Diplomacy with Black Sun and Phosphor. They've been clearly trying to maintain a truce since shortly after Leviathan's death; greasing the wheels might do a lot of good for Vietnam, and show other parahuman warlords that it's specifically the worst of the worst you're after.
[x][Avatar] Help Hydro restore order in Poland. The country's still a terrible mess after what the Simurgh did to it, and is in no small part held together by foreign aid.

Several pairs of eyes turn toward you. You are not in any sort of official leadership position in the Guild… but you are knowledgeable and experienced enough in the affairs of humanity to generally have a solid idea of what is or isn't a wise path to follow, and charismatic enough to make your point convincingly. You may not give the Guild orders, but you are listened to.

"Météore is right," you say. "We need Nigeria as our ally, and we need our allies to be as morally upstanding and trustworthy as practically feasible. These political prisoners, if freed, will work tirelessly to advance the causes of freedom, justice, and accountability in the nation; that is important for Nigeria's people, for its neighbors, and for our ability to rely on Nigerian assistance in the Guild's continued mission, particularly in ameliorating the condition of the African continent. To be honest, I think I would rather we allow these men and women some time to influence the country before we ask Nigeria to intervene in Benin.

"Kenya, meanwhile, has gone to great lengths to help us, not once but twice. Even if repaying it was not a political necessity, it would be our moral duty." You consider briefly. "Sending the Doctor would make for a nice token, but accomplish too little. Instead, having Nigeria provide the raw materials Kenya needs to jump-start its economy would go a long way toward stabilizing the nation and meaningfully improving millions of lives. In parallel, taking down the Death-Dealers would be a fairly simple task for the Guild, while removing a genuine threat to Kenyan stability. A good first step, though I do not think the Guild ought to stop there - after all, Kenyan and Nigerian security forces will be held up in Kolwezi for a long time."

"Sounds reasonable," says Narwhal. "Any other thoughts?"

"For one, that once the Death-Dealers are down for the count, the Guild's next priority should be Belo Horizonte." Doctor Volt perks up as he gives you a very interested look. "Reclaiming South America from the cartels is going to be a long, difficult, thankless task, and it is about time we get started on it. With that in mind, Centro, I also wish to assist you with the Argentina situation; I don't doubt you have some ideas.

"I do not think we ought to go in more directions than that at the time, however - we are already in the middle of hunting down the Slaughterhouse Nine, and as we are growing closer to catching them, we ought to maintain the pressure, especially as additional Thinkers are throwing in to assist."

Narwhal considers. "What about Vietnam?"

"I will attempt diplomacy between Black Sun and Phosphor. Hopefully this will buy time, without requiring direct Guild intervention yet."

"Well, you've proven you have some skill at diplomacy," Chevalier comments. "Good luck."

After the meeting progresses and decisions are made, you visit a Guild member who's still recuperating from her injuries.

"Captain Hydro? How are you holding up?"

"Ah… well, I'm… I'm all right. It's not the first time I get some bad burns, and… well, you and Voodoo did a good job fixing me up. The docs insisted I take at least a few days off." She pauses. "...I don't mind a few days off."

"Few would, considering. I'm sorry you got hurt."

"It's part of the job. We saved the day and I'm still alive; I'm not gonna complain."

You smile. "I suppose. Do not feel obligated to return to action quickly; you've more than earned your rest."

"Thanks. And don't worry about me." She pauses. "Ah, was there anything else?"

"It is my understanding that the situation in Poland remains an extremely difficult one."

"Well… Yes. I'm hoping that the European Brigade can make a difference."

"So do I, but I would like to do more than just hope. I was wondering what I could do to help."

She stares at you, then grins. "Well, I've got a few ideas, and Napoleon would have more…"

You have used your cosmic power pool to communicate with an entire city (or even more people) multiple times over your superheroic career, including the time spent in Earth-Bet. You've gotten the hang of it.

"People of Warsaw, this is the Avatar speaking. Some of you have heard of me as the killer of the Simurgh." Nothing is allowed to leave Simurgh exclusion zones, including communications, but radio waves still get in; there's little doubt that the survivors have a number of working TV and radio sets in there. "Though the quarantine on your city remains for now, I have received dispensation to visit." While the Polish government was only too happy to let you do it - you didn't get the impression the current leadership consider long-term consequences very deeply - obtaining permission from the PRT was like pulling teeth. The question of you visiting Simurgh exclusion zones has been getting discussed ever since the Simurgh's death - your presence in Earth-Bet was clearly unaccounted for by her precognition and disrupted her plans, after all, but that doesn't necessarily invalidate every one of the Rube-Goldberg doomsday devices left in her wake - but you've finally obtained this dispensation. Convincing the PRT was helped by pointing out the issues with reintegrating the Kyushu refugees; as you told them, the less the people in the exclusion zones feel abandoned by the rest of the world, the better things will go the day those who remain are allowed to rejoin society. And those exclusion zones won't stay up forever.

It's not that Simurgh exclusion zones are left to die (with the exception of Switzerland) - rations of food, water and medicine are airdropped regularly. But since no information is allowed out of the zones, it's not as if much is known about what's happening in there. The London exclusion zone was reopened several years ahead of schedule by the King's Men, and the effects of the traps laid there by the Simurgh are still being felt across the British Isles.

For the immediate order of business, you invest most of your cosmic power pool into two-way communication, and the rest into mental super-seed, allowing you to communicate with up to thirty locals simultaneously. Over the span of the following hour, you manage short conversations with several thousands of Warsaw residents.

"...go to Doctor Öztürk's clinic whenever we..."

"...just tell my wife I…"

"...they hoard all the food…"

"...monsters in the…"

"...gang holed up in the…"

It's heartbreaking, but unsurprising that you cannot accept every plea for help - you're only authorised to spend a few hours in Warsaw, you're not allowed to transmit personal communications to the outside (and frankly, considering how the Simurgh worked, you approve), and with all your other duties you cannot afford to spend an inordinate amount of time helping one single individual.

Heartbreaking. Unsurprising. From the moment you became this avatar, you've known all too well you would not be able to help everyone you encountered. Even as an overpowered superhero who never sleeps and never takes breaks, you can't answer every call for help.

But you press on and help as many as possible.

Right now, these thousands of rapid-burst conversations have given you a list of targets - things you can do in just a few hours.

Create antibiotics, disinfectants, bandages, rabies vaccines, and other medical supplies, then distributing them to seven operational clinics across the city: 13 minutes.

Hit the compound of the Wola militia, destroy all of their stockpiled guns and ammo, free the 71 children they're keeping as hostages, and capture both of their parahuman leaders: 9 minutes.

Create significant supplies of food and clean water, then distribute them across several dozens of spots where they should be accessible to a large number of people: 25 minutes.

Investigate the strange events in Wilanow district, read the minds of some of the people who won't speak about their missing time, discover their personality has been erased by a parahuman villain who's replaced it with a shell obedient to him yet able to semi-convincingly fake being the original person, track down the Master, read his mind to identify all 208 of his victims, confirm they cannot be saved, mercy-kill them, haul off the Master: 40 minutes.

Take down the slaver gang in Bialoleka district, including its five parahumans: 8 minutes.

Storm the police HQ, administer a painful beating to what used to be the city's police force, destroy their weapon and ammo stockpiles, force them to release their sex slaves and hoarded food: 12 minutes.

Hit the neighborhood in Wawer district under the control of the plant-Tinker, capture her, destroy every single last trace of her weaponized plants, note that their pollen can breed with regular plants, cleanse as much pollen across the district as you can: 38 minutes.

Counting the time that you spent talking to everyone, that still leaves you about half an hour to handle smaller matters across the city. Once you are done, the parahumans you captured are sent directly to the Birdcage - neither the PRT nor the Polish government were willing to take any risks beyond that.

Life in the Warsaw exclusion zone will remain harsh and brutal. But the help you've provided (and information about the sort of supplies they most need airdropped) will ease their burden, while likely also disabling a couple of leftover Simurgh time bombs.

The end of your visit to Warsaw is not the end of your visit to Poland. Your discussion with Napoleon pointed at several other actionable items.

The Maw is by far the single most powerful gang in Krakow, with twenty confirmed villains, including A-lister Bóg Zabójca; their territory covers a third of the city, and the heroes think twice before messing with them. A short blitz into their territory later, they have six less parahumans than before, and Bóg Zabójca is among those headed to a Lockbox.

Lodz has become the hub of a massive human trafficking operation. Following leads from Napoleon and some police contacts that he considers trustworthy, you have a general idea where to look, and are able to leverage enhanced senses and super-speed to locate "merchandise", free the slaves, mind-read the muscle present to go up the chain, and find some of the leaders behind the operation. Over forty arrests in total (including two parahumans), nearly two hundred victims freed, and many leads you hope the police will be pursuing to dismantle the rest of the network.

Wroclaw's nastiest villain is Grendel, who has personally killed six heroes over the past three years and has seven villains answering to him (albeit they're all small-timers with unimpressive powers; Grendel is very much the gang's outlier). Thankfully, it's an observed fact that Grendel is pathologically driven to prove himself the strongest and won't back down from a challenge; using your communication power to challenge him to a duel is enough to drive him out of hiding. Admittedly, his ability to turn into several dozen cubic meters of fast-regenerating, semi-liquid flesh able to take a variety of shapes is an impressive power, but nothing that really takes you too much effort to beat. Soon enough, Grendel is another Lockbox prisoner.

"I think you've done more for Poland in half a day than I have in my entire career," Captain Hydro comments. "That's several of our worst villains gone."

"There wouldn't be a Poland left to save if not for the efforts of hundreds of heroes like you," you reply, "and it's the efforts of countless heroes like you that will be needed for the rest. I'm happy to get some of the roadblocks out of your way, though."

The rest of the day is spent in Mexico City. Apparently, Excellente has been making Eidolon use a combination of Thinker powers to track down a number of villains who've been giving local heroes problems for years. One is a Tinker who's spent the better part of the past decade selling hundreds of rayguns to villains and mercenaries; Del Duque led the team that captured her. One is Fuerza de Libertad, a mercenary team specialized in breaking villains out of prison; Eidolon led the team that arrested them. Lastly, there's an unnamed Thinker whose power lies in knowing what evidence needs to be removed to ensure certain things remain secret, whom Excellente believes has been doing consulting work for criminals and villains (and, no doubt, a number of business tycoons, police leaders and politicians) for years now. Her power has allowed her to hide from the law all this time, but now, at long last, there's enough intel to not only confirm her existence but narrow down her location to just a few blocks - blocks that you patrol while sensing the interplanar energies typical of parahuman powers. Soon enough, you locate a parahuman who is taken in for interrogation; her power is insufficient in the face of the Thinkers brought in for the job, who confirm she's who Excellente thought she was.

You also spend several hours patrolling the city with Asalto, Angel Verde, and a rookie hero called Remoto. It is no less productive than your previous patrol of the city.

This was not an easy meeting to arrange. Both parties have ample cause to mistrust each other, after all. You had considered a teleconference, but you're less good a mediator via a screen than in person.

Thankfully, you are very persuasive, and giving them your word than any party using this meeting to betray the other would make themselves your top priority target helped sway them.

"Black Sun," you nod at the Tinker 8 specialized in energy nullification, who rules over a tenth of Vietnam. "Phosphor," you nod at the plasma-shooting Blaster, who rules over another tenth. "Thank you both for coming."

"You've killed two Endbringers. That gets you an audience," says Black Sun. She was a teenager from Vinh when she triggered in 2003, when her city was suffering under the rule of a particularly brutal warlord. She killed the warlord, took over his organization, and has been trying to unite the country under her rule ever since. She works hard to ensure food, clean water and electricity are available throughout her territory, and she cracks down brutally on child trafficking. On the other hand, she's too quick to execute those who stand against her, she doesn't exactly protect free speech, and local villains gain significant-though-finite leeway by agreeing to work for her.

"Very true. And if you can help the motherland, then it's my duty to listen to what you have to say," says Phosphor. He was an officer in the military stationed in the Thanh Hóa province when the government fell; he was among the soldiers who shot at crowds of protesters when his commanding general took over the area. The next day, having triggered from the experience, he killed the general and took over. Despite (or perhaps because of?) his brutal beginnings, he is loath to harm civilians, but he is not above cutting off food and water to cities and villages to force compliance.

Of all the warlords fighting for a slice of the Vietnamese pie, these two are arguably the most reasonable ones - the ones who at least try to create functional nations where people can live in peace. They've also been fighting each other for years, but agreed to a cease-fire after Leviathan's death - a cease-fire that's been collapsing under pressure.

"Thank you," you say. "It is the future of Vietnam and its people I am concerned with today. Now, I am all too aware that national reunification is not a realistic objective at this point in time." But just mentioning such a far-off goal reminds them that there's more at stake than their immediate grievances. "Nonetheless, the people need peace and decent living conditions. They need to be able to believe, without naiveté, that as long as they work hard and live honestly, they and their family can have the life they deserve. Constant warfare, collapsing economies, and bullies with power all get in the way of this."

"Bullies with power?" Black Sun says dryly. "You mean, like the Wild Riders, or the White Spear?" Both parahuman gangs that work in her territory and owe her allegiance. "I'd love to get rid of those assholes, but it's not like I can afford to. I have enemies everywhere," she glares at Phosphor, "I can't afford to turn down good muscle."

"Don't you dare blame me for this," Phosphor replies. "You chose to hire bandits, rapists and murderers."

"What, like your army isn't full of those?"

"I maintain strict military discipline!"

"That's never stopped-"

"If I may," you interject. "If we let ourselves get distracted by this blame-throwing, we'll be here all day and get nothing done. May I suggest the following: Let's start by listing the problems we have, along with out goals."

The negotiations end up taking most of the day, with multiple breaks - breaks that you spend patrolling nearby cities in both warlords' territories (in the process, you bring three people in need of urgent medical care to the nearest hospitals, arrest a man who was holding his wife and daughters prisoners in the basement, and free fourteen slaves from a sweatshop). By the end, a number of concerns have emerged:

One, of all things, is currency. The bank notes printed by the defunct government (with Ho Chi Minh's face) are still being used for most exchanges in much of the country; Black Sun and Phosphor both use it to pay their parahumans, their soldiers, their civilian functionaries… Problem is, both have taken to printing more of these banknotes, with the inflationary risks that this involves. Getting them to agree on a mutual cap on printing money is not too difficult.

Trade agreements are not that hard. The Nghệ An province needs certain resources, Thanh Hóa needs others, so trade can help both, but there are concerns about unrestricted free trade - for instance, if wealthy potentates in Nghệ An start buying a lot of food from neighboring provinces at prices locals can't compete with, it can induce a famine in Thanh Hóa. Agreements - both to protect and to regulate trade - are made; nothing too complicated or fancy, but something that covers the basics.

And then there are the more contentious issues. The parahuman group known as the White Spear have been nothing but loyal to Black Sun, but have committed war crimes in Phosphor's territory. Meanwhile, Nguyen Lam is a very wealthy man in Phosphor's territory who has given him his support in exchange for a number of concessions, but is wanted by Black Sun for his association with the brutal warlord whose crimes in Vinh caused her trigger event. The fact that both of these remain powerful and untouched is one of the factors (by no means the only one, but a significant one certainly) why maintaining a truce between the two warlords is difficult.

You can see the problem, obviously. As long the White Spear are allowed to operate freely, it's a slap in the face of not only Phosphor's authority and credibility, but also of all their victims; it allows other war criminals to feel safe and beyond the reach of justice. The same happens with Nguyen Lam, who knowingly funded and supported a mass-murdering maniac as long as said maniac bought his military surplus and helped him move merchandise; he shouldn't be allowed to dodge consequences just because of his wealth and connections. On the other hand, if the White Spear actually pay for their crimes, then other parahumans under Black Sun's leadership will wonder if they remain safe as long as Black Sun's in charge; if Nguyen Lam is arrested and punished, Phosphor will have a much harder time maintaining a working economy, especially as other local potentates may decide he's bad for business.

Ultimately, while both warlords are on board with strengthening their truce, you need to make them some promises of your own to get more out of them.

The day after that is largely divided along three activities: Mexico City patrols, the hunt for the Slaughterhouse Nine, and preparation to take down the Death-Dealers.

The patrols in Mexico City come in two forms: The first is having you move at a slow pace along with a team of heroes, looking for problems with enhanced senses. The second is having you paired with flyers, going a few dozen feet above the street, flying fast enough to cover lots of ground but slowly enough that people get a good look. You're familiar with this approach - it's sending everyone, honest citizens and criminals alike, the message that the city is under your protection.

The hunt for the Slaughterhouse Nine receives additional help in the form of the Nigerian hero known as Mister Clue.

"Physically, I'm about twenty times faster," the former police detective turned superhero from Ibadan explains, "but mentally? I basically no longer take time to think. If I'm smart enough to notice something, to think of something, if I just had enough time? I think of it immediately." These powers, combined with his investigative training, have made him a remarkably efficient crime-fighter in Ibadan since 2006; he is currently one of several capes the Nigerian authorities are considering for Guild membership.

Between Mister Clue, Tattletale, Forecast, the Guild Thinkers, the PRT Thinkers, the Japanese Thinkers, and some of Toybox's tinkertech, the pressure placed on the Nine is like never before. From the looks of it, the manhunt forced them to flee from Albany before they could get their target.

"It's infuriating," Silver Crusader says. "Just a couple hours earlier, and we could have caught those bastards once and for all."

"I see it as encouraging, actually," you tell him. "It means they're losing. They have to move too quickly to gather power and resources, and despite that, we're getting closer by the day. We kept them from getting Dungeon, and I shudder to imagine what they could have done with his power… and when we do catch up to them, they'll have to do without."

Dungeon is a mercenary operating out of Albany with an interesting Striker/Shaker power. He can, at will, create a pocket dimension filled with complex constructions (including various minions) and transport himself there, along with anyone he's touching. He can also bring what he creates out of the pocket dimension, but it fades away in less than a day. Right now, he's in Protectorate custody, still somewhat shaken by the whole experience.

As for the Death-Dealers… You spend some time discreetly casing out the city of Kisumu. Wing Warrior and Mister Clue investigate. Local Kenyan heroes and police help out. Tattletale examines the facts. Forecast answers a couple of questions.

The assault is planned to take place in 36 hours.

The next day, Nigerian authorities announce that, with Lagos retaken, they are "stepping down" the state of national emergency (not ending - "stepping down", a deliberately nebulous term) and are releasing 102 prisoners whose activities were considered too much of a disturbance while the nation was teetering on the edge of collapse. Those include the 98 political prisoners recommended by Météore, and four others deemed harmless enough by the government (presumably to inflate the number and make the gesture look bigger). Those former prisoners will, in all likelihood, fight tooth and nail for the cause of justice and freedom in their country.

Also in Nigerian news, out of gratitude for Kenya's assistance with Lagos, the government announces its plan to subsidize the sale of food, oil, and certain raw materials to them. For Nigeria, this is a small dent in the national budget. For Kenya, this is expected to mean an averted famine for refugees, an end to scheduled blackouts, and over a hundred thousand returning manufacturing jobs.

Much further North, the European Brigade has seen its second deployment, successfully wiping out Les Damnés, the most violent parahuman gang in the Paris area.

The news don't mention anything about Kaboul, but you drop by to check on Starfall anyway just to be safe.

You spend a chunk of the day working in Mexico City. Aside from patrols, you are also called in to intervene in what looks like a spontaneous street fight between two villains; thankfully, both of them immediately surrender when you show up.

You have to interrupt one of your patrols halfway through when the PRT informs you that a cargo ship is sinking in the Atlantic, over 1 300 miles away from North America's coast. You quickly fly there to stop the sinking, repairing the hull and removing spilled fuel from the water; you expect this sort of accidents will be relatively common for a while, as a growing pain of international trade returning to its pre-Leviathan scale.

Once your Protectorate duties are handled, however, it's time to assist Centro.

The Argentinian Thinker, due to the nature of her fight, values secrecy a great deal; she minimizes contacts with most of the Guild, and avoids Tattletale like the plague. She has also been an extremely valuable member of the Guild since you asked her to join - against the Four Ghosts of Santiago, against Sylance and Fuji-Sama, against the villains of Lagos… In short, you owe her a lot, and it's more than time to begin addressing the problems of the South-American continent.

"Argentina's situation is different from Brazil's," she explains. "In Brazil, each cartel seizes what cities and regions it can, guards them jealously, and tries to seize territory from rival cartels. Argentina's villains are more 'civilized'," she says in a tone dripping with sarcasm, "each city is divided into areas held by different cartels, which are all spread across the nation. So, the Cartel de las Sombras holds some neighborhoods in Cordoba, some in Santa Fe, some in Rosario - and the Ejército Glorioso cartel holds other neighborhoods in those same cities. They fight and politic each other to increase their territorial and business holdings, but they try to keep fatalities among their ranks low - usually. Officially, the army is in charge of maintaining law and order, but it will take orders from local cartel members; they're glorified minions at this stage."

"I see." It fits what you've read, certainly. "Now, how can I help?"

"Several things," Centro grins. "First of all, I have been doing a lot of work against the Cartel de las Sombras, and I believe I could make much, much faster progress against those bastards if I could add this woman to my 'list'," she shows you the picture of a woman in a concealing black bodysuit. "Her name's Saltadora, and she's a teleporter the cartel uses at least as extensively as the Guild uses Strider. Parahumans, merchandise, VIPs, she moves everything. It took me months of work to both confirm her existence and narrow down her residence to a few blocks; if I could just touch her once, I'd be able to gather intelligence on the cartel like never before. Problem is, I occasionally know where she'll be expected to show up, but I never have opportunities to act upon it. You, on the other hand… You could show up there discreetly, and see through her mask. You have photographic memory, right?"

"I could find out and show you her real face, if that's what you're asking."

"Perfect. Once I have that, well… I have the right people on my list that I can attach a name and a residence to the face. I can arrange to bump into her in her civilian identity."

"Happy to help. And, for that matter, to serve as your backup for the riskier parts."

"Thank you. Second… another person I need added to my list is this man." The picture shows a man whose uniform boasts an unreasonable amount of medals. "General Ocampo. He effectively leads the military around Cordoba. Deals with all the cartels, and has made a fortune from it. In his case, I already know where he lives; I could ask Strider to teleport me at night. But even if I was confident I'd catch him asleep, the man is cautious; that glitzy mansion of his is packed with guards and security cameras."

"I could both watch from a safe distance to find the right time," you say, "and hide us from sight and a wide array of sensors when Strider teleports us in."

Centro's grin is now growing feral. "Third. Represalias, a new Cordoba superheroine I've been watching for a few weeks. Good girl, but her luck ran out yesterday; she's being held in an Ejército Glorioso prison. There's a number of possible locations for that prison; you can scout them, find her, and then you and Strider can get her out." She pauses. "So far, they haven't started torturing her - they always start with the recruitment pitch first - but that won't last.

"Fourth is this man." She shows you a picture of a man in a white and blue costume, with a sun on his cape. "Captain Argentina. Laugh if you will, but he was a big-name hero before the cartels took over; these days, he makes some attacks on small-time villains every other week - nothing big enough for the cartels to really prioritize killing him, but it's something. Like Celo, he has to operate discreetly to be a hero in a cartel-run country.

"I think I could work with him. Thing is, I have no way of contacting him, and even if I did, there's no guarantee he'd listen to some unknown Thinker calling him out of the blue."

You see where this is going. "I can call him with my communication power. He'll doubt it's me, of course, but I can ask him to agree on a codeword I'd say on my next public appearance. Arranging a meeting shouldn't be too hard after that."

You hover in the sewers beneath the street, your cosmic senses stretched in every direction in a range of several blocks as you wait.

And then, a woman in a concealing black bodysuit teleports in, handing a memory stick to someone in the nearby building.

You've seen Saltadora's face.

Visible, infrared and ultraviolet light. Movement detectors. Proximity detectors.

Many ways to detect intruders, and you hide yourself, Strider and Centro from them all as she gently taps the sleeping general.

The fourth prison you scout holds Represalias.

For a couple of minutes, that is. With you on overwatch, Strider gets her out in an instant.

She is soon placed with the Guild, given food and medical attention. After you double-check that she wasn't placed under a Master influence or some kind of parahuman surveillance, Centro contacts her.

"...It's an honor to meet you." This took some doing, but you eventually meet Captain Argentina face-to-mask. "I… If you and the Guild help us… we can save this country, we-"

"Captain, the reason I contacted you in the first place is because a certain compatriot of yours is trying to achieve precisely that."

Centro has a lot of work to do, and a long road ahead of her if she is to liberate her country from the villains that have taken it over. But thanks to the help you and others have given her yesterday, she's now several steps closer to achieving that objective.

Today, however, your focus is on Kisumu, as the Guild moves in to take down the Death-Dealers.

Seven of them are parahumans. They have a capable Thinker. They have two powerful Strangers. They are ruthless enough to murder heroes, rival villains, and public figures in their homes.

None of this protects them today. Not against the growing might of the Guild.

The sting takes several hours, because you're all being cautious. And thanks to your caution, not a single villain escapes, not a single hero or civilian is seriously hurt, and most of the non-powered minions are caught and arrested.

And just like that, with ease, the gang that was breaking the unwritten rules and giving Kenya a cold sweat is undone. Kisumu law enforcement do make a big production of having them hauled away, though.

"It's almost scary," says Laser Fist. "The Guild's been powerful for a while, but now? I catch myself thinking of what we do less as terribly risky fights with superpowered murderers, and more like pest-control. I know things could have gone wrong a million ways in Lagos and some good people died, but…"

"Keep those dangers in mind," says Narwhal. "We're getting better, but our luck won't hold forever. There'll be setbacks and bad days."

True. But for now, you have largely repaid the Guild's debt to Kenya. Which means it's time to focus on the next item on the agenda.

"I was expecting representative Dunst to throw a fit about the Kisumu op," says Doctor Volt, apparently checking the latest from the notably racist politician, "but I'll admit, he went further than I expected."

"What did he say this time?" asks an exasperated Chevalier.

"Apparently, the Simurgh's final last-ditch backup plan was manipulating the Avatar into focusing on, and I quote, 'third-world hellholes that are already far beyond saving', thus neglecting, and I quote, 'the last bastions of civilization'."

Chevalier gives you an apologetic wince. "I'm really sorry about that. I want to say Dunst is an isolated lunatic and no-one will listen to him…"

But if that was true, he wouldn't be in congress.

"It's all right," you say. "I'm used to it. There are always people like that. Remember, I became an active superhero at the height of the Ku Klux Klan's power, and not long before the rise of Nazism; I've seen worse."

"I hate that that comparison even needs to be made," says Chevalier. "We're America. We're supposed to not need the Nazi comparison to look good."

"Since when?" Doctor Volt says wryly. "When the country was originally founded on slavery and genocide, when it took the Philippines as its colony, or when it systematically destroyed democracy across Latin America? Your moral superiority never existed outside of your imagination."

"I wasn't trying to say America was morally superior," Chevalier says. "Just that it's always disappointing when it falls short of its ideals."

Truth be told, you've never encountered a nation that was even half as good and righteous as its own self-image. Even Logre fell short in a number of ways, despite the very significant efforts Arthur Pendragon invested in the cause of justice.

Regardless, the debate dies down as Narwhal and Dragon begin their presentation, aided by Doctor Volt.

"Belo Horizonte. Population: 5 million. Under the control of the Novo Império cartel, which is headquartered in Rio de Janeiro. The cartel has been busy fighting its rivals for control over what's left of São Paulo this year, which is why its parahuman presence in Belo Horizonte is relatively light - less than two hundred villains," Dragon explains.

"This makes Belo Horizonte a target of opportunity, despite it being far more distant from Brasilia than, say, Goiânia," says Narwhal. "We need to take Belo Horizonte first, while it's a relatively soft target. After that, Goiânia - a city five times smaller, and much closer to Brasilia - will be our immediate next target."

"Assuming we win," says Doctor Volt, "the worst case scenario is the cartels agreeing to a truce long enough to push us out of the country - even as strong as the Guild currently is, it can't fight ten thousand supervillains all at once. We need to keep them from working together, and the best way to do that is to play on their greed." He grins. "Novo Império's rivals want to take its holdings in São Paulo. We need to make it too tempting a target for them to ignore."

"This is Punho Dynamite," Dragon shows the supervillainess's picture, "one of Novo Império's strongest parahuman in São Paulo - strong enough to punch through concrete walls, fast enough to kill seven enemies before the first is done hitting the ground. She's a visible threat, highly feared by their rivals. The goal is to have her visibly removed, without making it obvious the Guild was responsible."

"To that effect," Narwhal explains, "the Avatar is to take another form and costume, and attack her in a public venue, using powers that wouldn't out his identity." Entirely doable. Her punches, while devastating, are not on Leviathan's level, so you can tank them for a while. You can use your power pool to grant yourself matching speed. And you can switch your energy glasts to electric attacks. "They are to fight for a while, then use this device - courtesy of Toybox - to teleport out in a big flash, leaving two charred corpses behind." Corpses which your powers can create. "Thus, when we attack Belo Horizonte a day or two later, the forces in São Paulo will believe there is an exceptional opportunity, with Novo Império being weaker than ever."

"The odds are good… at least in the short run," says Forecast. "They'll keep fighting for the next two weeks, almost definitely."

"After that… Well. We'll have to hope for the best," says Doctor Volt. "Can't take back the country all at once, sadly."

"As for the Belo Horizonte battle plan itself…" Narwhal presents the strategy the Guild's agreed on.