The first Quarantine Site they have Chiron handle is a small town in Oklahoma named Hominy, taken over by a robotics Tinker. Said Tinker wound up accidentally creating a robot uprising, after he tried to replace all the workers with a series of different robots a little too sapient for his own good. Now the town of formerly 2,642 is home to nearly 2,000 malfunctioning robots, of varying shapes and sizes, slowly running down but surprisingly violent. It is a simple site for Chion to handle, David figures. David's around as overwatch, as much as to keep an eye on Chiron as to make sure the job gets done.
Chiron tears through the metal hordes wearing no cape faces, simply relying on the sheer brutality of his centaur-like body to rip and tear the robots apart. Chiron charges forward, his knife-feet clicking, and paws pounding against the broken pavement, the spring wind blowing past him, sparks flying with each thunderous step. The robots, ranging from a couple feet tall, to nearly twenty, their exposed circuits flickering and sparking, lunge at him with jagged metal claws and whirring saw blades and plasma torch.
With a primal roar, Chiron sweeps out a leg, shattering the first wave of robots into a chaotic shower of twisted limbs and shattered gears. His powerful muscles flex and strain, his centaur-like body a relentless force of destruction. Amidst the chaos, David watches from a safe distance, his eyes filled with a mix of awe and trepidation. He knows Chiron's strength, but seeing it in action keeps him on his toes.
The malfunctioning robots swarm, their metallic bodies clashing against Chiron's unyielding frame. He kicks, stomps, and pummels, his blows echoing through the desolate town, leaving a trail of shattered machinery in his wake. As the numbers thin, Chiron's movements become more fluid, his strikes precise and deadly. He dodges under the swinging arm of a titanic robot—meant to replace a trash truck—delivering a bone-crushing uppercut that sends a robot hurtling into the distance, gears and Tinker doodads spraying like a metallic rain.
But the robots, relentless and unfeeling, keep coming. They number over a thousand still. They circle Chiron, their metallic shrieks filling the air. Their attacks grow more coordinated, their desperation morphing into a twisted form of unity as they attempt to stop the Endbringer. Chiron, undeterred, leaps into the air, his knife feet slicing down with earth-piercing force, obliterating the robots beneath him. He becomes a whirlwind of destruction, four legs lashing out like blades, a force of nature in this bleak mechanical wasteland.
David can't help but feel a sense of both dread and admiration as he watches Chiron's relentless battle. The Endbringer's determination is unwavering, his resolve unbreakable. And with each fallen robot, the town of Hominy edges closer to reclaiming its peace.
In this dance of chaos and carnage, Chiron fights on, his body glistening with oil, his three pairs of hooded eyes burning. With every strike, he brings Hominy one step closer to its final rest, his war cry echoing through the deserted streets. The Endbringer fights not for glory or recognition but for the simple act of restoring balance. And as the last malfunctioning robot falls, silence descends upon the town, broken only by the heavy breathing of the victorious centaur.
David approaches Chiron, his voice filled with admiration, "Well, you handled that, alright."
Chiron nods, his gaze still fixed on the fallen robots. "This is just the beginning. There are more towns that need saving, more battles to be fought, more way to prove myself."
The second Quarantine Site that the PRT assigned Chiron to is located in Greta, Nebraska. Unfortunately, the town has been completely swallowed by a permanent Shaker effect. David, unsure of how the Endbringer will handle such a situation, watches as Chiron sits for hours, seemingly fixated on the swirling mass of energy engulfing the town.
Finally, Chiron stands up, but to David's shock, he is wearing his face. With a casual wave of his hand, Chiron effortlessly dispels the dark energy, which dissipates like a rolled-up carpet. What is left behind is a scene of utter devastation - a small town in ruins, with the bleached white and yellow skeletons of its former inhabitants scattered about.
The third is outside Crowley's Ridge in Arkansas, a heavily wood stretch of road inhabited by biotinker creations called quetzalcoatl, after their startling resemblance to pterodactyls—if pterodactyls have innate powers and a violent urge to kill anything that resembled a human. Authorities have tried to clear them out before, but there's too many nests hidden in the tree-filled hillsides, the quetzalcoatl having not expanded their range since being released two years ago. As Chiron approaches, the dense Arkansas forest looms ominously before him. The air is thick with humidity and the scent of vegetation. David hovers nearby, ready to intervene if necessary, but also curious to see how the Endbringer will handle this unique challenge.
Without warning, a shrill screech pierces the silence, shattering the tranquility of the surroundings. A swarm of quetzalcoatls emerges from the canopy, their wings flapping with frenzied intensity, creating a gusty disturbance that rustles the leaves. Their slender, serpentine necks contort as they swoop down towards Chiron, their razor-sharp beaks glinting menacingly in the sunlight.
Reacting swiftly, Chiron charges forward, his eight legs propelling him with astonishing speed. Now wearing Alexandria's face, he taps into her immense power, using it to effortlessly crush and seize the biotinker creations. He disregards their toxic breath and piercing beaks, his focus solely on eradicating every single nest. Some quetzalcoatl have lasers, and others form shields, while still more have more esoteric and unique powers. It does not matter.
Chiron's massive form collides with the quetzalcoatls, sending feathers flying and screams echoing through the valley. The ground trembles beneath his thunderous steps as he smashes through trees, tearing apart nests with each swipe of his colossal limbs. The quetzalcoatls fight back, their talons slashing at Chiron's red crystal, leaving shallow gouges that quickly heal, and shooting beams of light. But their attacks are futile against his unstoppable might. He plows through their ranks, a force of nature unleashed upon the unsuspecting creatures, blood covering his crystal flesh.
As the battle rages on, Chiron's eyes blaze with determination. He refuses to let anything stand in his way, his resolve unyielding. With each nest destroyed, the quetzalcoatls' numbers dwindle, their once formidable swarm reduced to a scattered frenzy of swooping creatures. The air fills with the acrid stench of burning feathers as Chiron unleashes beams of searing energy from his eyes, obliterating any quetzalcoatls daring enough to challenge him. The forest becomes a hunting ground; the clash reverberating through the trees.
David watches in awe, his earlier curiosity transformed into a sick fascination as he witnesses the destructive power of Chiron. The once serene valley is now a chaotic battleground, with the remnants of trees and nests strewn across the landscape. Chiron's movements are precise and calculated, his every strike obliterating any remaining Quetzalcoatl in his path. David can't help but wonder if the 13th would be the same way with people.
Despite the relentless onslaught, a few resilient quetzalcoatls. seeming to shimmer, continue to fight back, their screeches echoing through the valley. Chiron, undeterred, focuses his attention on these remaining adversaries. With a thunderous roar, he unleashes a shockwave that sends the remaining quetzalcoatls spiraling into the air, disoriented and vulnerable. Seizing this opportunity, Chiron lunges forward, his long limbs tearing through the air with a force that is almost palpable. He crushes the remaining nests with a single swipe, ensuring that not a single quetzalcoatl will be left to terrorize the valley again. The battle reaches its climax as Chiron raises his colossal form, his red crystal glowing with an intensity that is both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
In a final act of defiance, a lone quetzalcoatl charges at Chiron, its beak poised to strike. But Chiron, fueled by his unwavering determination, effortlessly intercepts the attack, his grip crushing the biotinker creation's fragile body. With one swift motion, he hurls the lifeless creature into the distance, its screech fading into the distance.
Silence descends upon the stretch of forest as Chiron stands amidst the wreckage, his presence dominating the once tumultuous landscape. The remaining quetzalcoatls have scattered, their once formidable swarm reduced to nothing. David, his fascination now tainted by the destruction he has witnessed, approaches Chiron cautiously with a false smile on his face.
"Congratulations, Chiron," David says, his voice tinged with unease. "You've done it. You've rid the valley of these creatures."
Chiron turns to face David, his red crystal eyes piercing through the false smile. "Yes," he replies, his voice deep and resonant. "But at what cost?"
David's smile falters as he takes in the devastation around them. The once lush and tranquil valley now lies in ruins, the remnants of the quetzalcoatls and their nests scattered across the landscape. Chiron's immense power has left a lasting mark, and David can't help but feel a pang of regret for his role in unleashing this destructive force.
"We had no choice," David mutters, trying to justify his actions. "They were a threat to the ecosystem, to the balance of nature, and to the people of the United States of America."
Chiron's gaze remains fixed on David, his expression inscrutable. "They were. Now they are not. Did you know they had a form of rudimentary language?" he asks, his voice filled with an eerie calm.
David's unease grows as Chiron's words sink in. "A form of language?" he repeats, his curiosity overriding his guilt. "What did they communicate?"
Chiron's red crystal eyes seem to glow even brighter as he answers, "They had a simple system of communication, mainly used for hunting and warning each other of danger. It was fascinating to observe their interactions while they attacked me."
David's mind races, grappling with the implications of what Chiron is revealing. "So, they were more than just mindless creatures. They had a social structure, a way of life."
Chiron nods slowly. "Indeed. They were intelligent beings, capable of thought and cooperation. But their existence threatened the delicate balance of the ecosystem, they were excessively violent, and they were not meant to be. I recognize them from a previous Cycle. Shards should not be creating rudimentary facsimiles of past Host species. Is the biotinker that created the quetzalcoatl still alive?"
David's mind races as he tries to process the information. "I... I'm not sure," he stammers, his unease growing. "I don't know the whereabouts of the biotinker responsible for creating the quetzalcoatls, but I can figure it out."
Chiron's eyes narrow slightly, his gaze becoming even more intense. "Find out who they are, Eidolon, and where," he practically commands, his voice carrying a weight of authority. "I need to understand how they managed to recreate a species from a previous Cycle. Such a thing should not be."
David nods, his unease deepening. "Yes, Chiron. I'll do my best to locate them. But what will you do if we find them?"
A faint hint of a smile tugs at the corners of Chiron's lips. "We will have a conversation with their Shard," he replies cryptically. "There are forces at play here that need to be understood and controlled. The Cycle here is far too aberrant."
With each passing day, the PRT's pet Endbringer, a formidable force against malevolent threats and peculiar phenomena, faces greater challenges and Cauldron's confidence in the 13th Endbringer slowly but steadily grow.
"FIGHT ME!" the massive Host screams again at Conflict Engine 13. They are both standing in a street of downtown Stillwater, as cars dare not pass them, screeching and turning around, people screaming and fleeing.
They look far more like an unholy blend of a half-dozen hexapod Host species Chiron helped kill than anything natural, and he can sense two nascent cores slowly sublimating into existence in the Host's chest and head. That… That is not supposed to happen. At least, not until the next Conflict Engine is being chosen, after a previous Conflict Engine's termination, and even then, there shouldn't be two cores. This Cycle is aberrant. A Conflict Engine candidate forming without any oversight from Mother? Very aberrant.
"I will fight you, Host. What is your name?"
"Fucking finally! Names Ned but they call me Crawler. Let's fight!"
They stand in a field outside the town and Chiron the 13th decides there is no need to risk this Host's survival, putting on Flechette and Legend as their faces. Killing them will be simple.
For two and a half minutes he let Crawler do what Crawler wished, which was vomit acid the slowly ate away at his ever-denser shardflesh and scramble around like an agitated beast ripping and tearing at him. Then he held out a hand and a single beam of white-gold light pierces through Crawler, hitting both cores one after the other and killing him instantly.
The gathering crowd stares blankly, clearly expecting some kind of battle.
"This Crawler had the potential to become a Conflict Engine, an Endbringer. I ended him swiftly and decisively. He is dead."
The crowd murmurs in shock and awe as Chiron's words sink in. Some gasp at the revelation that Crawler could have become an Endbringer, while others whisper prayers of thanks that the threat was averted so swiftly.
Chiron stands silently, his three faces impassive as he surveys the scene. The beam of light that struck down Crawler has left a perfectly circular hole through the mutated villain's body, edges still glowing faintly. There is no blood, no gore - just a clean strike that ended a potential catastrophe before it could truly begin.
As the initial shock wears off, questions begin to ripple through the crowd. How did Chiron know Crawler would become an Endbringer? What does this mean for other villains with mutation powers? Is anyone truly safe?
Chiron, the 13th Conflict Engine, stands amidst the stunned crowd, their questions echoing though his mind. He answers he knew Crawler would become an Endbringer because he possessed the ability to sense the nascent cores forming within the villain's body. It was a rare and dangerous anomaly that required immediate action. As for other villains with mutation powers, Chiron cannot provide a definitive answer. The truth is, no one can truly be safe in a world of superpowers and conflicts. Each individual's potential for destruction must be carefully monitored and assessed.
The clean strike that ended Crawler's life serves as a reminder of the immense power and responsibility that Chiron possesses. He is a guardian, now, a self-appointed protector of humanity, and he will not hesitate to eliminate any potential threats to ensure their safety.
The crowd, now filled with a mix of awe, gratitude, and uncertainty, begins to disperse. Chiron remains stoic, his three faces a mask of determination. He knows that his work is far from over. If there is one, there are other potential Conflict Engines out there, waiting to be discovered and, if necessary, terminated.
As Chiron walks away from the scene, his mind races with thoughts of the future. The aberrant Cycle and the appearance of two cores in Crawler's body raise more questions than answers. The situation demands further investigation, for the safety of humanity depends on understanding the forces at play. Why could Crawler's Shard initiate the formation of a Conflict Engine? Who gave them the permissions, with Mother dead?
With resolute determination, Chiron sets off for Guthrie, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead. The battle against the Endbringers and the protection of mankind from the Entities require unwavering vigilance and unwavering resolve. And Chiron the 13th Endbringer, is prepared to fulfill his self-appointed duty, no matter the cost.
News of the death of Crawler spreads rapidly across the Internet to a heavily modified cellphone, where a man flipping a knife frowns at what he reads. "So that's where you wound up, you battle fiend," he murmurs, before he glances up, catching a road sign in the RV window and grinning. His destination is close.
Taylor and her father leave the homeless shelter insect-free, with a terrarium in each hand, filled with a swarm they have just picked up. They bring them to the warehouse Taylor took over, where she has a dedicated system in place for managing the insects. Taylor meticulously sorts through the bugs, carefully separating them into two groups: the feeder bugs and the keeper bugs.
The feeder bugs were the ones deemed unnecessary for her swarm's growth and vitality. These were the sick, damaged, or surplus insects that served as a food source for the powerful insects in her possession. With a swift and methodical hand, Taylor transferred these unfortunate bugs into designated enclosures, where they would meet their fate as nourishment for her thriving swarm.
On the other hand, the keeper bugs were the chosen few. These were the insects that displayed strength, resilience, and unique abilities that would contribute to the overall strength of Taylor's swarm. These select insects were carefully nurtured and given optimal conditions to thrive and reproduce, ensuring a continuous cycle of powerful offspring.
Taylor's father's initial concept, albeit initially repulsive, had proven to be remarkably effective. The once-dull and ordinary insects in her swarm had transformed into a glossy and formidable force, thanks to their diet of unwanted counterparts. It was a symbiotic relationship that fueled the growth and power of her insect army.
With each passing day, Taylor's warehouse became a haven for her ever-expanding swarm. The once useless insects now had a purpose, and their collective strength was a testament to Taylor's dedication and innovative approach to insect management.
As Taylor continued to fine-tune her system, her ultimate goal became clear: to create an unstoppable force of powerful insects, capable of achieving feats she could have never imagined. With her father's guidance and her own unwavering determination, she was well on her way to achieving that vision.
The Empire 88 has grown more active in the weeks since the Pale Egg hatched and Chiron the 13th made himself known to the world, expanding into former ABB territory, and committing horrid crimes, burning down businesses and homes. Then they came for the Dockworker's Association.
She is just glad she'd been around the time they came, a group of bald-headed men armed with a couple rifles and clubs. A swarm of insects pours out of the nearby warehouse as she stands watching with a pair of binoculars. Dad insisted on them, claiming they would be the perfect tool for her, and like he often was these days, he was correct.
Taylor watches through her binoculars as her swarm descends on the Empire 88 thugs. The insects swarm over them in a dark, buzzing cloud, biting and stinging relentlessly. The men cry out in pain and panic, dropping their weapons as they frantically swat at the bugs covering their bodies.
Within moments, the would-be attackers are fleeing, their tough guy act completely shattered by Taylor's insect army. She feels a surge of pride and satisfaction at how effectively she has driven them off without any casualties. This is exactly why she had been working so hard to build up her swarm.
As the last of the Empire goons disappear around the corner, Taylor directs her insects to return to the warehouse. She makes a mental note to have some of her fliers follow the men to see where they went. Information on Empire hideouts could be valuable.
Taylor's dad emerges from the Dockworker's Association building with a group of men armed with pipes and wrenches, only to stare at the now-empty street, and his daughter standing awkwardly with a pair of binoculars.
"Insect cape fought them off," she says, answering the unasked question. "Covered them in bugs."
It isn't the only time she has to scare off the Empire, and a few times Dad comes home limping and bruised, but victorious. The DWA is holding its own, too small for the E88's roster to show up. It is one such night in early February, as she is helping prepare a bag of ice, when the news suddenly flashes with an emergency bulletin that terrifies the Heberts.
Rather than going straight to Oklahoma, the Nine cut back north and east and stop in the cesspit of misery known as Brockton Bay for a little reunion and to meet a certain Tinker who can build anything. Riley takes charge of installing the control equipment into Leet, using a mixture of technology provided by Mannequin and specialized biotinkering components crafted by her.
As Riley meticulously works on her task, Mannequin dedicates himself to perfecting his greatest creation yet: the capture sphere. The workshop is filled with the scent of metal and machinery, while the sound of whirring gears and clinking tools fills the air. With precise movements, Mannequin exploits the suction differential between dimensions, creating a mesmerizing visual as the capture sphere effortlessly funnels its target into a prison pocket dimension. It's a sight to behold as the target is locked inside the object, their movements halted. Leet had attempted something similar in the past, a year or two ago, dubbing it a 'Pokemon ball'. The memory lingers in the workshop, mingling with the anticipation. As Bonesaw engages the Master unit, Mannequin eagerly takes the opportunity to have Jack act as translator. With his slack-eyed gaze, Leet responds in a monotone voice, answering Mannequin's dozen questions with a slow and steady voice.
It doesn't matter, because the information is invaluable. 'Collaborating' with another Tinker is something Mannequin hasn't done in years, and he finds it quite fun. The sound of their tools clinking and buzzing fills the air, creating a symphony of innovation. It's even more fun when the friend comes back and finds them working. The little frantic twitches and eye movements reveal the lie that the control equipment is perfect, but that just makes the whole thing better. The smell of grease, hot metal, and blood hangs in the air, a testament to their tireless work. It takes three days for Uber to die, and by that time the two Tinkers have made great progress in making something viable for Mannequin's plan.
Meanwhile, the arrival of the Slaughterhouse Nine in Brockton Bay sends shockwaves through the city's underworld, sending tremors of fear and unease reverberating through the streets. The air is thick with tension as the Protectorate and the Empire, bitter rivals, begrudgingly form a truce, their animosity palpable. Mannequin toils away for days, his sinister project shrouded in secrecy, while the rest of the group grows restless, their impatience hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break.
Jack Slash, the cunning mastermind, senses the restlessness and decides it is time for some twisted amusement. With a showman's flair, he orchestrates a series of gruesome "performances" across the city, transforming the once vibrant streets into a chilling theater of horrors. Each scene he carefully crafts, leaving behind a macabre tableau of mutilated bodies, a grotesque mosaic of terror. The sight of the lifeless figures, contorted and violated, strikes fear deep into the hearts of both gang members and innocent civilians alike.
Bonesaw, with a sadistic glee, unleashes her latest creations upon the unsuspecting populace. Swarms of microscopic robots invade the bodies of their victims, insidiously transforming them from within. The horrifying metamorphosis unfolds slowly, as extra limbs sprout and people merge with inanimate objects. The agonized screams of the afflicted echo through the streets, a symphony of pain and despair that seems to have no end.
Shatterbird, known for her destructive sonic scream, shifts her focus from causing mass chaos to targeting pacemakers and other silica-based medical devices. Her deadly aria resonates through the air, silently infiltrating the fragile mechanisms that sustain lives. Hospitals and retirement homes become her hunting grounds, as dozens fall victim to her lethal melody. And then, one day, she simply vanishes, leaving behind a void of silence where her presence once reigned.
Burnscar, the fiery menace, attempts to visit the Palanquin, her intentions set on reducing it to ashes. However, her destructive plans are thwarted by Faultline's Crew, forcing her to retreat with a lingering sense of frustration and desolation. Throughout the rest of her visit, she sulks in the shadows, her fiery spirit dimmed by the unfulfilled desire to wreak havoc.
The Siberian, a force of nature in human form, tears through the halls of Brockton Bay General Hospital with an insatiable hunger. In a twisted game reminiscent of Malthusian theory, she devours the sickest patients, feeding on their weakness with a savage delight. Laserdream, Shielder, Armsmaster, and Krieg valiantly attempt to confront her, but the cost is high. Laserdream teeters on the edge of death, her life hanging in the balance on the cold operating table, while Shielder loses his left leg, forever altered by the brutality of the encounter. Armsmaster, the once formidable hero, loses his right hand, a cruel reminder of the Siberian's ruthless power. Tragically, Krieg pays the ultimate price, his life extinguished in the midst of the chaos.
The fragile truce between the Protectorate and the Empire teeters on the brink of collapse when news spreads that Panacea, the renowned healer, has prioritized lesser injuries over Krieg's fatal wounds, potentially contributing to his demise. The Parahumans Online community erupts in fiery debates, their words igniting flamewars as they argue over the value of a villain's life and their entitlement to emergency healing.
Amidst the chaos, Hatchet Face, a formidable adversary, meets his demise in a hailstorm of high-velocity bullets. The sharp cracks of gunfire punctuate the air as his skull is pummeled by the onslaught, his body torn apart by the merciless Hookwolf. Bonesaw, disturbed by the loss, mourns the missed opportunity to use his power for her twisted creations. Pagoda, on the other hand, manages to survive the battle, but his presence proves futile in combat, a mere spectator in the midst of the violent storm.
As they finally depart with the beginnings of Mannequin's Capture Core completed, Jack cannot help but furrow his brow. The lifeless body of Hatchet Face, silent and devoid of any final words, leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. The absence of Shatterbird's haunting presence gnaws at him, creating an uncomfortable itch in his mind. The memory of Crawler's demise at the hands of the righteous Endbringer lingers, a sour reminder of their failure. But a voice inside Jack urges him to move forward, reminding him that the Slaughterhouse does not wait for anyone. They depart, now missing two members, accompanied only by the gibbering Leet, freed of the Master control as a lark, and Uber's icy corpse. Jack finds solace in the belief that Riley, with her talent, can create something truly remarkable from this uninspired duo. Something that transcends the mediocrity that these two capes have displayed throughout their careers. Something that exudes true artistry.