The Kaiser's New Clothes
Chapter 3: A Day in the Life of a Racist Supervillain
With the dust settled after Taylor's extremely heterosexual meltdown, the Undersiders gathered around in the living room of Lisa's apartment together. Taylor and Alec remained on the couch where they were before, directly facing the chalkboard Lisa had wheeled out from her bedroom, which she was now busily scribbling away on. Brian remained in the armchair next to Alec, nearest to Lisa's TV, which silently panned over subtitled shots of Brockton Bay in ruins, while headlines scrolled by below. Opposite him, forming the other end of the semicircle around Lisa's coffee table, Rachel took the other armchair. She idly petted her dogs, while her eyes remained locked on the TV.
"So!" Lisa turned around to face the room with one of her signature fox-like grins, looking as Tattletale as she possibly could while not in costume. "We have five key problems we need to address going forward, if we mean to go on as we have, which I've outlined for us here. I'd like to thank Alec for the illustrations. Thank you, sir."
Alec stood from his seat and took a bow. Lisa clapped, and Taylor and Brian half-heartedly joined her.
"So, these problems are as follows..." Lisa continued.
She moved aside, pointing to column number one, labelled, "1. FUCKING LEVIATHAN" It was accompanied by a caricature of the Endbringer in question, sporting four comically angry eyebrows, and pissing on a small collection of skyscrapers while holding up a middle finger at the viewer.
"Point one, Leviathan fucked our city up good," Lisa said, grin becoming a little more forced. "It's thrown the gangs into disarray. It's thrown the PRT into disarray. It's even thrown the boss's plans into disarray. Now, we can all adapt if we have to, and this might even help us in some ways, but a lot's going to depend on what happens next. If the city is condemned, then that's a wash for all of Coil's plans here. He's going to want to move on to the next city, and he's going to want us to follow him. We need to decide what we're doing if it comes to that."
Before anyone could speak, she moved again, revealing column number two, titled, "2. WE'RE HOMELESS" This one had a picture of all five Undersiders with big frowning faces, huddled together in a cardboard box in the rain.
"Point two, a related matter, uh... yeah, for those of you who didn't know, Leviathan destroyed our secret clubhouse. The entire Redmond Welding building is just gone, hence our meeting here today."
"Fucking asshole," Alec muttered, sulking.
Lisa nodded solemnly. "We're all upset to have lost our video game collection. It's basically like Leviathan came to Brockton Bay to fuck over us in particular. But bright side, we're all alive, and none of us lost relatives, so it could be worse."
"That's not a bright side in my case," said Alec, raising his hand.
"So point two is we're going to need a replacement hideout in the interim until we figure out what we're doing. Brian and I still have our apartments, so we can keep putting the rest of you guys up for now, but we really need to figure out an alternative soon. Brian has a sister to take care of and a cover job to maintain, so he really can't afford to get cape life mixed up with civilian life. Which is especially a problem for housing Rachel, since her identity is public. I think for now it might be best for everyone if you and the dogs stay here with me and Taylor."
Rachel glared at her.
"...We can circle back to that later." Lisa grinned, stepping aside. "But speaking of blowing secret identities..."
Taylor groaned. Column number three on the chalkboard was, "3. SHADOW STALKER UNMASKED!" Accompanying it was an illustration of Skitter holding Shadow Stalker's mask, pointing an accusing finger at a girl laying in a hospital bed, whose mouth formed an "O" of surprise.
"...Skitter's little indiscretion at the hospital brought to light some interesting information. Taylor, do you want to field this one?"
All eyes turned to Taylor, who let out a sigh.
"I know this is breaking the unwritten rules, but... Shadow Stalker is Sophia Hess, one of my bullies from school. The ones who caused my trigger event. That's why I was so hostile to Legend's idea of joining the Wards."
Eyebrows shot up all around. Brian in particular leaned forward in his seat.
"Sophia... the girl from the bookstore? The one who...?"
Taylor simply nodded.
"Fuck!" Brian threw himself back in his chair. "That bitch was Shadow Stalker? No wonder she was such a fucking psycho!"
"She made you trigger?" Rachel asked, surprisingly quiet.
Taylor turned to Rachel. The other girl looked as angry as ever, but for the first time today, it didn't seem like it was directed at her.
"Yeah," Taylor said, face blank.
Rachel looked away, silently smouldering, while Lisa cleared her throat to get the group's attention back.
"So clearly, this has some nasty implications," she said, her smile subdued. "Primarily, it tells us that there's huge institutional corruption, incompetence, or both in the PRT."
"Didn't we already know that?" asked Alec.
"We suspected, but this is proof." Lisa held up a finger. "It sheds a lot of light on why Taylor was never able to get any help when those she-demons were tormenting her. It's because the authorities were complicit in it, looking the other way for the sake of their precious Ward."
Taylor hugged her own legs.
"Bastards," Rachel muttered, glaring at the floor.
Alec held up his hands.
"Okay, I agree this is terrible, but what does this actually change? We already thought the PRT were assholes and that Shadow Stalker was a psycho, and... well, it's not like we can actually use this information, is it? We go after Shadow Stalker's civilian life, and they come down on us like a tonne of bricks. And it puts Taylor's identity at risk too, doesn't it?"
Taylor gave him a contemplative look.
"I think it changes one thing," she said. "It makes me feel a lot less guilty going after them at full force."
Alec shrugged. "Fair point. Whatever helps you sleep at night, little miss hero."
Taylor frowned at him.
"She's right, though," said Lisa. "What this tells us is that Shadow Stalker is absolutely a deserving target for whatever we want to dish out. Moreover, her superiors know it too. It's not just Grue; this is a pattern of behaviour for her in both cape and civilian life, and there's no way she hasn't broken other rules or pushed her luck with other people too. Which means that she's a liability to the entire PRT. A weak link. We don't need to target her civilian ID at all; if we go after her as Shadow Stalker, and hit her with everything we've got, something's going to break."
Lisa smacked her own hand to punctuate the point, grinning widely.
"Hmm..." Alec rubbed his chin in thought. "Good point..."
Brian shrugged.
"I'm happy to exploit any weakness in the PRT, especially if it's Shadow Stalker. Fuck that bitch. No offense, Bitch."
Rachel gave him a weird look.
"Buuuuuut, that's not the only advantage Taylor's given us~!" Lisa's grin widened, reaching the point of maximum Tattletale. "Because of...!"
Taylor covered her face with her hands and groaned even louder as Lisa stepped aside to reveal column number four, which was Taylor herself in costume, flying on giant bug wings while shooting the Triumvirate out of the sky with lasers from her eyes. The column's title read, "4. GIGA-SKITTER."
"Point four! Rumours of Skitter's second trigger being greatly exaggerated!"
Light chuckles came from the guys, while Taylor sighed and uncovered her eyes.
"Please tell me we're not playing along with this?"
"Sorry, but this is simply too good an opportunity to waste." Lisa's smile became apologetic. "To summarise, thanks to an extremely lucky accident of timing – and a well-placed comment by Regent – all of our enemies now believe that aspiring former hero Skitter was not only pushed to villainy, but pushed to a second trigger by a Protectorate hero, after he betrayed an Endbringer truce, no less. Even assuming that the latter doesn't get out, the PR damage this does to the heroes is a major win for us, and for the boss. We can leverage this. But more importantly, we can leverage the misconceptions about Skitter's second trigger..."
"Do we have to?" Taylor asked with weary resignation.
"Yes," said Brian. "If you're back on the team, you're helping in every way you can. I need to know you're committed to this."
"I am," Taylor said with a determined look. "I'm in this one hundred percent. I just don't like it."
Rachel snorted, but said nothing.
Lisa continued.
"Beyond the obvious, exploiting the fear of Skitter's potential powers, I see one major application for this that I think we'd be fools not to take advantage of. Alec? Would you like to take the floor?"
All attention focused on Alec, who looked to each of his teammates in turn, before sighing and giving a casual shrug.
"Alright. You guys know my dad was Heartbreaker, so I guess you could figure it out anyway if you looked it up. Basically, I've been sandbagging with the trips and twitching thing. I'm a human master. Full body control. I need time and proximity with a target to make it stick, but once I do, I can take control of them anytime I want if they're in my range, feel through their senses, and puppet them however I like. At least until I fall asleep."
Taylor recoiled, moving away from him on the couch. Rachel also gave him a suspicious glare.
"Relax, dork," Alec said, rolling his eyes. "I haven't used it on any of you. Mastering teammates without their consent is a great way to get on everyone's shitlist. I don't need more enemies, thank you very much."
"He's telling the truth," said Lisa, causing both Taylor and Rachel to relax.
"Anyway, it's not mind control, so I don't get their memories," Alec continued, seemingly unbothered. "But I do get muscle memory, and surface level thoughts and emotions, and I can control most powers, if they're a parahuman. So I can do a pretty decent imitation of whoever I'm controlling if we ever need to infiltrate anywhere, but it probably won't hold up to scrutiny if they're expecting it."
"Regent..." Taylor murmured. "A temporary ruler in the absence of the true monarch..."
"Eyyyy, you got it!" Alec grinned, pointing finger-guns at her.
"But here's the rub," said Lisa. "Regent hasn't been able to use his full power so far, because if he did, it would confirm to the heroes that he's Hijack, painting a target on his back not just from the law, but Heartbreaker too."
"Who I would ideally like to never see again in my life, if possible," said Alec, leaning back.
"Buuuuut..." Lisa grinned. "If it wasn't Regent doing it, but instead our resident bug girl graduating from insects to people, perhaps due to reasons of a second trigger..."
"Goddamnit," Taylor groaned. "So now I have to take the heat for being the human master too?"
"You wanted to make it up to us, didn't you?" asked Brian. "This is how."
Taylor pouted.
"Come on, it'll be fun!" said Alec, clapping his hands. "You'll be feared and respected city-wide! We can even give you a villainous rebrand. Call you something like... Queen Bee!"
Taylor glared at him.
"Or just Queen?" he suggested.
Brian snapped his fingers. "Lady Bug!"
Lisa put a finger to her lips, pondering.
"Could go more mythological? Maybe... Khepri?"
"I am not going to call myself Queen Bee," Taylor said, without heat. "Or Lady Bug. Or Khepri, for that matter."
"Ladybug's the national insect of New Hampshire."
Everyone simultaneously turned to stare at Rachel, the source of the random fact.
"...What?" she said, furrowing her brow. "It is."
"...Ohhhkay then..." Lisa said quietly, turning back to the rest of the group. "We'll table the rebrand ideas for now."
"How long are we even going to be able to keep this charade going, anyway?" asked Taylor, tilting her head. "Any thinker worth their salt would see through it, wouldn't they? The Protectorate would have to figure us out sooner or later. Not to mention whoever it was that actually triggered. This is a disaster waiting to happen."
Lisa grimaced.
"I'm glad you brought that up, actually," she said, turning back to the chalkboard, "because that's our final problem. Point five..."
She stepped aside revealing the final column, illustrated by a goosestepping man made of spikes, holding up an arm in a Nazi salute, complete with swastika armband.
The column read, "5. THAT ASSHOLE, KAISER."
Max hadn't often had the opportunity to see Brockton Bay from above. In a helicopter ride once or twice, maybe, but his powers didn't include flight, so he most often travelled the city at ground level, usually in a limousine for civilian business, or in the back of a nondescript truck for cape business.
The only exceptions he could think of were the few times he'd taken the field alongside Rune on one of her platforms, since she was one of the few capes in the Empire who could both fly and carry others. Even in better times, with other flyers in the Empire's roster, it was rarely ever practical for another cape to carry him, since Kaiser went everywhere covered in a heavy suit of sharp metal. Not even Purity, one of the Empire's most powerful capes and their premier flyer at the moment, had ever been seen transporting Kaiser in such a manner, since she lacked the prerequisite super strength to be considered a full Alexandria package. It just wasn't doable in his armour.
Princess-carrying Max Anders over Brockton Bay in his civvies, however, was very doable, even if Kayden complained loudly about it the entire way.
"Goddamnit, Max...!" she panted, visibly straining as they flew ever closer to the cluster of skyscrapers where Medhall made its home. "I am never doing this for you again!"
Max, still adorned in Theo's baggy oversized t-shirt, only grinned at her from his place in her arms.
"Never say never, Kayden, my dear," he said, affecting the smooth tone he often used for dealings as Kaiser.
Kayden glowered at him between breaths.
"What? I'm getting into character." Max kept up his smile. "You're the one who wanted me to put on a show for our 'coworkers.'"
"I meant putting on your armour and giving a rallying speech to rile them up, not waggling your eyebrows at me and making suggestive comments."
"I have never once in my life 'waggled my eyebrows,'" Max said imperiously, turning his nose up at her. "And now is not the time for me to be putting on my armour. You're barely managing as it is."
"I didn't mean right now," Kayden huffed.
"You seriously need to work on your upper body strength, woman. For God's sake, you're a supervillain. Pregnancy has ruined you."
Kayden gaped at him. "And whose fucking fault is that?!"
"Kayden, I cannot be held responsible for these things." Max gave an exaggerated shrug. "These are what we in the business call acts of God."
"No, they are acts of you!" Kayden shouted. "Acts of Max Anders!"
"How is it my fault that you didn't want to get an IUD?"
"I wasn't getting an IUD just because you don't like wearing condoms, Max!" Kayden had gone red in the face now. "This was all entirely preventable on your end if you didn't want it! I did my part! I was on the pill! It's not my fault the pill is only ninety-three percent effective! Seventy-one percent if it's the fucking Medhall brand!"
She let out a long groan.
"You know what? Forget this."
"Woah, hey!" Max yelped as they suddenly descended.
Kayden quickly brought them down to street level, a patchwork of cracked and ruined concrete emerging from a long stretch of water, which flooded up from the sewer grates and gathered in the pot holes and craters. She abruptly dropped him on a patch of dry land from just high up enough for Max to find his feet before impact.
"Hey!" he shouted up at her. "Wait, Kayden! I'm sorry!"
"See you at the meeting, Max," she said, waving goodbye before turning and flying away.
"Kayden! Kayden!"
Left alone in the street, Max sighed, kicked an overturned trash can in frustration, and began walking. He knew this road, even if it had seen better days, and it wasn't far to Medhall from here.
Along the way, he passed a small cafe he had occasionally lunched at during long days at work. There were many more upscale restaurants in the vicinity of Medhall, catering to the well to do businessmen of Brockton Bay, but sometimes when he had been out alone and the whim struck him, he liked to do something unusual and spend his lunch hour at Jeb's Diner instead. It wasn't fancy, but the food had been decent, and the atmosphere had always had its own charm. It was something different. More down to earth than his usual places.
It was a shame to see it in its current state. The windows were broken and the door was hanging off its hinges, while inside wires hung from the ceiling where the lights had come loose, and broken ceiling panels and plates littered the wet floor.
Max was about to continue on his way when a movement inside caught his eye. An elderly black man with a grey moustache and a bald head who Max recognised as the owner emerged from the darkness in the back of the cafe. He and Max had previously shared many a pleasant conversation about family, life in Brockton Bay, and the challenges of running a business, even if their respective experiences of each were very different.
Jeb didn't notice Max at first, too busy sweeping a pile of wet rubble into a dustpan, which he then picked it up and carried over to the garbage can by the cafe's entrance. As he emptied it, his eyes raised up as he suddenly noticed him, freezing in place with a look like a deer in headlights.
Hesitantly, Max raised a hand to wave, a greeting almost forming on his lips. But before he could say anything, the old man turned and fled, dropping his dustpan and brush and disappearing back into the darkness of his ruined establishment.
"...Yeah," Max said to himself, sighing. "Can't say I blame you..."
He trudged on the rest of the way in silence, reaching Medhall a short while later.
The tower rose overhead, casting the broken road in shadows. Glass littered the ground around the building, mostly from the lower floor windows, smashed by rioters and looters after the Empire's identities were outed. A few were from higher up, caused by their clashes with rival capes around the time. He and Krieg had needed to fight their way out of his office on the day, taking on the Protectorate and numerous PRT squads on their way down the building, while Fenja and Menja had just jumped out the windows to go face the enemies on the ground. There was still a flooded crater where they had landed.
There was some new damage too, here and there. Not just to Medhall, but to a few of towers in the area. Max had an inkling that the fight with Leviathan must have passed through here at some point after he was knocked out, and maybe some capes or flying debris got flung into the buildings around here. Still, the damage looked superficial from the outside.
Max entered the lobby, and blinked in surprise when he saw that there were staff present. A blonde woman in glasses whom he recognised from admin manned the front desk today, while a fat, bald security guard in full uniform smiled at him from his place near the stairways.
"Morning, sir!" he said, before raising his hand up in salute. "Heil Hitler!"
Max stopped and stared at the man.
"Mr. Adams, what are you doing?" he asked.
The bald security guard's smile disappeared as he sheepishly lowered his hand.
"I figured... well... it's all out in the open now, ain't it? You running the gang out of Medhall now? I just..." He looked to the blonde woman for support, who only shrugged at him. "Just... y'know?"
Max frowned at him.
"I'm afraid I don't know, Mr. Adams, and I'll thank you not to hasten our descent into hell any faster than necessary. A lot of things will be changing in the coming weeks, for Medhall and the Empire. Kindly let me decide how to handle things first before you start sieg heiling in my fucking lobby."
Adams looked to the floor, shamefaced.
"Sorry, sir."
"What are the two of you even doing here?" Max asked, turning to the blonde secretary. "Medhall operations are frozen. Who called you in today?"
"Mr. Fleischer said you would want operations up and running here again as soon as possible," she said with a smile.
"Goddamnit, James," Max muttered under his breath.
"We called in as many loyal employees as we could get in contact with," the secretary continued, oblivious. "The cleaning staff got the meeting room ready and are working on the offices, the engineers are draining the basement to fix the power, and me and the girls are covering the rest."
"Plus a few of us guys are running security," Adams said with a dumb grin. "Not that you'll need it. But a few of the boys are stationed around the neighbourhood, keeping an eye out for the white hats. We'll let you know if anyone's coming."
Max pinched the bridge of his nose and took a breath.
"Fine. That's... fine. He's probably right. I should have been informed of this earlier, but that's fine. I will deal with him when I see him. Continue as you were."
Adams responded with a salute – thankfully the normal kind this time instead of the Nazi one – while Max nodded to them both and approached the elevator.
"Wait!" the secretary called.
Without thinking, he pressed the button, only for the doors to open and a flood of grey water to come pouring out, forcing him to step aside with a bewildered look. The water washed across the floor, carrying garbage and still flopping fish all over his lobby, while yet more water continued to flood down into the elevator.
Finally, it slowed to a trickle as the elevator emptied. Cautiously, Max stepped closer, peering into the gap between the elevator and the lobby floor. He found the elevator shaft below dry and empty, as if all the water had somehow not flooded up from below, but instead came in from above, and pooled up entirely inside of and on top of the elevator, without any leaking through to below.
"But..." Max stared, pointing up at the elevator roof hatch, before turning to look back at his ruined lobby. "...How?"
Four figures stood in silence at the bar on the lower floor of the now quiet Palanquin nightclub, gathered around a fifth. On the customer side were Spitfire and her two Case 53 coworkers she left with earlier that morning, Gregor the Snail and Newter. On the other side of the bar stood Faultline, their fearless leader, a woman who right now was just barely holding back an aneurysm. And lying between them all was the charred and rotting corpse of the most famous white supremacist supervillain in North America, whose spiky metal armour had left scratch marks in Faultline's expensive marble counter.
After a prolonged staring session, Spitfire took a deep breath, and dared to make the first move.
"Okay, so..." She swallowed, and held her hands out to steady herself. "We were minding our own business—"
"Bullshit!" Faultline shouted, slamming her hands down on the bar counter.
"We wereeeeee!" said Newter, cringing away from her.
"Hard as it is to believe, this was indeed no fault of our own," Gregor the Snail said, before mumbling under his breath, "This time..."
Faultline sighed, head hanging as she leaned on the bar. A swarm of flies continued to buzz around Kaiser's body next to her, while corpse fluids leaked over her bar stools.
"Fine," she said, taking a more even tone, looking back up at the three again. "So, you were 'minding your own business' when—"
"When Kaiser's corpse just came flying down the hill out of nowhere and crashed straight into us!" Newter finished.
"Spraying my slime and Newter's hallucinogens all over him," Gregor supplied.
"...At which point you said Emily—"
"Stumbled back and just happened to step on a loaded gun lying on the ground!" Spitfire said, waving her arms.
"Coincidentally shooting Kaiser in the head?" Faultline said flatly, staring the unmasked Spitfire straight the eye.
"Yes!" she said with a desperate nod of her head.
"And then you picked up the gun?With your bare hand?"
"She did indeed do that, yes," Gregor said with a small cough.
"Why?Why in God's name would you do that?"
Spitfire said nothing, instead trying to make herself as small as possible.
"...Fuck!" Faultline sighed, massaging her growing migraine. "Nobody can know about this. Do you understand? You three look so guilty right now, even I barely believe you. The only reason I do is because I know where you've been, and he's way too fucked up for you three to have done all this in only half an hour."
"And also you trust us not to actually burn a major gang leader to death and shoot him in the head, right?" Spitfire said with a nervous chuckle.
Faultline gave her a flat look.
"...Right?"
"So what are we to do?" asked Gregor, putting both hands in the pockets of his hoodie.
"The only thing we can do," Faultline said, closing her eyes.
Gregor nodded along solemnly.
"Stick him in the freezer," she said.
"Dispose of the bod— wait, what?" he said at the same time.
"Huh?" Spitfire blinked.
"What?" added Newter.
"Guys, we are meant to be opening tonight." Faultline leaned further over the counter. "We need to get the club cleaned out and the floors replaced today. We simply do not have time for this Kaiser situation right now. I will not lose a day's revenue getting caught up in wacky corpse disposal shenanigans with you three."
"...It's a Monday!" Newter said, mouth agape. "A Monday immediately after an Endbringer attack! You seriously want to open the club tonight?Nobody's going to be out!"
Faultline frowned.
"And nobody ever will be out ever again if they think that Leviathan killed Brockton Bay's nightlife scene for good. We need to open, to show that we're still operational, and that this isn't going to be the end of us. A week of regular opening times in spite of the attack will give time to build word of mouth that we're still around, and hopefully draw back some of the regular weekend crowd. We can have some type of promotion to hype it up. A 'hooray, we survived' type of deal? Except, you know, less grim and fatalistic."
There was a beat of silence.
"You are serious?" Gregor asked.
"One hundred percent," Faultline said with a determined nod.
The silence stretched on, as Gregor, Newter, and Spitfire shared worried looks.
"...Very well," said Gregor, grabbing Kaiser's corpse and lifting it onto his back. "The freezer it is."
Max grumbled as he finally emerged from the stairwell into office level. A security guard at the door gave him a curt nod, confirming the floor the Empire capes were meeting on, and so Max began forming his armour as he crossed the main floor. Several secretaries manned some of the intact desks, sorting and piling up paper documents that were strewn across the floor, and smiling at him as he passed.
"Morning, Mr. Anders!" they said, cheerfully.
"Morning, girls," Max replied, while spikes grew from his shoulders.
He navigated between several piles of smashed wood and broken electronics that had once been this level's office cubicles, and dodged around a broken wire hanging from the ceiling, which briefly sparked to life along with half the lights on this level, before dying again.
"Morning, Mr. Anders," muttered the middle-aged janitor sweeping up the broken glass by the windows.
"Morning, Malcolm," said Max, while his helmet closed around his face. "How are the kids?"
"Don't know," he said gruffly. "Probably drowned."
"Oh." Max paused, as the last of his armour formed. "Uh... I'm sorry?"
"Thanks."
Malcolm went back to sweeping, so Kaiser went back to walking, the carpet squelching under his boots with each step. He passed between more cubicles, both destroyed and intact, and avoided an overflowing mop bucket which was catching a trickle of water coming from the ceiling.
"Just through here, sir," said another security guard at the end of the room.
"Who's arrived?" Kaiser asked, trying and failing not to trip on a fallen cardboard cut-out of Meddy Medicine, the friendly talking pill mascot of Medhall from the eighties.
"Everyone we were expecting, sir," the guard answered stoically, ignoring Kaiser's foot spikes getting stuck in the cardboard. "They were just waiting on you and Purity."
Kaiser pulled his leg out from the hole in Meddy's face, and gave the security guard a dignified nod.
"Good. Thank you, Mr. Lars."
He proceeded down the thankfully less destroyed corridor, towards the regular meeting rooms. They were usually used for meetings with businessmen and leaders, not his fellow supervillains, but right now, this was the best place for them all. The meeting rooms were located towards the middle of the building, away from the windows and whatever prying eyes may have been watching them, and Medhall itself was among their most intact and fortifiable remaining locations at the moment, as sad as that fact was.
He had a lot of work ahead of him today.
Kaiser turned a corner, and found Krieg and Purity waiting at the doors for him outside meeting room four, just as expected. Kayden looked no less annoyed with him now that when she'd dropped him off, but Krieg's voice was full of wonder and reverence.
"M-Mein Kaiser?" he gasped, voice filtered through his stupid gas mask thing. "You are alive?Purity vas telling ze truth?"
Kaiser suppressed a sigh. He did not have the energy for Krieg right now, but he had to deal.
"Yes, I am alive," he said, curtly. "This should not surprise you. I am Kaiser; I can weather any challenge."
"Of course..." Krieg nodded, bowing his head. "I am sorry. I should not have doubted."
"I will need to have words with you after the meeting. We have much to discuss. Particularly about your actions these past two days."
Kaiser stood straight and tilted his head back, making himself as tall as possible, giving the impression of looking down his nose at Krieg. It was a well practiced movement, and one that Krieg naturally played into, the way he bowed and scraped and made himself small in Kaiser's presence.
"Ja, mein Kaiser," he muttered.
With a silent nod of acceptance, Kaiser brushed past him, and pushed open the doors into meeting room four.
The discussions at the table tapered off as he entered, Krieg and Purity following at his side. After a pause, all of the Empire's remaining parahumans stood up in unison with a sound of scraping chairs. Kaiser stopped, his eyes scanning across the room, which was brightly lit by a number of battery powered LED lamps. His gaze slowly met each of them for individual judgement. With masks covering their faces, he could only guess at their expressions for most of them. But from the few he did see, the impression he got was an air of nervousness, surprise, and disbelief.
"At ease," he said, moving to take the big chair at the head of the table.
His underlings all sat down together. Again he looked to each of them in turn, a drawn out silence holding over the room as he assessed them again. Counting himself, the Empire were down to thirteen parahuman members, all of whom had come together for this meeting. Now if he was to enact his plans and make good on his promises to Kayden and Theo, he had to take a long, hard look at them, and seriously consider which of them he could trust to fall into line, and which ones would be problems.
To Kaiser's left, taking her place near the head of the table, Kayden herself looked back at him with a subdued anger. Her arms were folded over her chest, and her white costume and face were dim as she conserved her powers for the moment. He intimately knew where she stood, and she would be the most careful balancing act of all.
Opposite her, Krieg sat at Kaiser's right hand, dressed in his usual World War Two era Wehrmacht trench uniform and gas mask, complete with swastika armband. James Fleischer was Kaiser's primary contact from Gesellschaft, and probably the closest man in the Empire to Hitler after Kaiser himself, despite being a little bitch-boy. Max put on a friendly face for most of their dealings, but deep down, he couldn't help but resent the man on some level. Mostly because he consistently refused to let Kaiser name any new Empire cape "Blitz" and pair them up with him to make Blitz and Krieg a thing.
To Krieg's right was the third of the Empire Eighty-Eight's surviving lieutenants, Hookwolf, AKA Brad Meadows, currently bare chested despite the freezing weather outside, with only a metal wolf mask covering his face. Not an ideologue. Not a true believer. Like Kaiser himself, he fought for the Empire not for any noble intention, but for entirely selfish reasons. In another life, Kaiser thought he and Brad may have been friends, since they had that common. Unfortunately, while Kaiser was in this game for the pussy, Hookwolf was in it because he just liked smashing innocent people's faces into the dirt, which in its own way was just as serious a problem as if he were genuinely racist.
Next after Hookwolf was Menja, the surviving valkyrie twin, whom he knew better as Nessa Biermann. The normally confident and beautiful girl looked utterly destroyed today. Her normally shining, resplendent armour was battered, scratched, dented, and even rusted in places, while her steel wings had been mangled beyond recognition by Leviathan. And though her helmet covered most of her face, Max could tell from the redness around her eyes that she had been crying.
His heart went out to her. Of all the people in the room, he was probably closer to Nessa than any of them, aside from maybe Kayden. She and her sister were Heith's younger cousins, and he saw so much of his late wife in them both. They had her powers, her fiery personality, her magnetic beauty. They even had Heith's tendency to have sexual intercourse with Max Anders, funnily enough. He knew that Kayden didn't approve of that, and sometimes he felt odd about it himself, but it was what it was. He had fun with the twins whenever they got together, which was, after all, what he was in this business for. But now Nessa had lost her sister, and as the closest person to her, the responsibility fell on him to help her through it. He didn't know if he was up to the task.
Opposite her and Hookwolf, lined up beside Kayden, were Night and Fog – Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt in their "civilian" lives. He did not know them well, which was by choice. The creepy fucks were presents from Gesellschaft, indoctrinated as children by Pied Piper's master ability in the new Hitler Youth he ran. Whoever or whatever they may have once been, he had only known the Schmidts as unsettling psychopaths who made very effective footsoldiers and obedient servants, but were utterly incapable of passing for human if you paid more than surface level attention to them. They were among the few capes he had ever driven away from the Empire on purpose, mostly so that he didn't have to deal with them, but their return had been one of Kayden's prerequisites to join him again, so here they were. Great.
At least they had given him some inspiration for this meeting. He'd see how that went later.
Rounding out Kayden's faction, next to Night and Fog, was Justin, known in costume as Crusader. As far as Kaiser could tell, the young man was a true believer. He was loyal, and a good fighter, with a useful power. He was also very obviously smitten with Max's ex-wife. He... didn't quite know how he wanted to deal with that yet. A problem for another time.
Next to Nessa was Victor, in his standard red shirt and black breastplate, sans his mask. He had an empty, haunted look about him today. Like Nessa, he had lost someone very close to him in yesterday's attack. Kaiser sympathised, knowing what it was like to lose a wife, but that didn't mean he could entirely let his guard down around Victor. He was a skill thief, and among his many abilities, he was incredibly perceptive and socially adept. Kaiser could never truly be certain that he had Victor fooled, and it unnerved him at times.
Cricket sat next to Victor. The scarred, mute girl with the blonde buzz-cut and the cage around her face was one of Hookwolf's people, brought in with him from the fighting pits. He did not know her too well either, mostly because it was difficult to carry a conversation with someone who didn't speak. He had no idea why she didn't just get Othala to heal her throat injury while she had the chance. Now the opportunity had passed, and she was stuck with it forever. Oh well. He hoped she was happy with her weird fucking decision.
Also on her side of the table was Hookwolf's other hanger-on from his fighter days, Stormtiger. He had a really simple costume, the only notable features being the chains, and his white and blue tiger mask. He was an aerokinetic or something. Whatever. Kaiser personally thought it was seriously lame. Stormtiger was by far the most forgettable member of the Empire, and the local news stations, the public, and even the PRT on occasion mixed him up with Hookwolf all the time.
Opposite them, sitting next to Justin, was the youngest parahuman in the Empire. Rune, also known as Tammi, was an abrasive young delinquent girl from the Herren clan, and one of the Empire's heavier hitters at the moment. She showed great potential, but unfortunately she was also a pretty passionate ideologue, as the young tended to be. Kaiser anticipated that she and her instinctive teenage rebellion would be one of many obstacles to turning this sinking ship around. He also adamantly maintained that she would've been a perfect Blitz, no matter what Krieg said.
And finally, at the end of the table, there was Nietzsche, the filthy old man with long, greasy black hair, who Rune was currently staring at as he drank a blood bag through a bendy straw. Kaiser didn't really have any strong opinion of him, other than that he smelled bad.
"...Thank you all for coming," Kaiser said, ending the long silence. "Friends... it has been a trying few days for us, hasn't it? Every external force imaginable tried their hardest to burn us to the ground... or drown us, as the case may be..."
A collective shiver went over the group.
"...And yet, the Empire Eighty-Eight still stands strong in the face of— What is it, Rune?"
The young girl had her hand raised, looking to Kaiser with a worried expression.
"Hey, uh, I don't mean to interrupt, but... who's this guy?"
She gestured to Nietzsche at the end of the table, who paused drinking his blood bag to check behind him, before pointing to himself with a confused look.
"That's... Nietzsche," Kaiser said flatly. "He's always been here. Was that all?"
"Uhh... no?" Rune stammered out. "I've literally never seen this guy at a meeting before."
"I'm more of an auxiliary member," Nietzsche said in a lightly European accented baritone. "I come and go as needed, and I only work nights. That's why you might not have seen me."
Rune blinked, and turned to Hookwolf.
"He's drinking blood!"
"Yeah, so what?" Hookwolf answered gruffly. "The fuck's your problem today, Rune?"
"I just think it's weird?" Rune asked searchingly, looking to everyone at the table. "Do none of you think it's weird?"
"I... could not possibly give less of a shit," Crusader answered, shrugging.
"I mean, is it a power thing? Do... Do you have, like, blood powers or something?"
Nietzsche laughed good-naturedly.
"No, no, my parahuman ability is a master effect that induces suicidal depression! Totally unrelated. I just drink blood because I'm a vampire."
Rune shrank in her seat.
"...What?" she said in a small voice.
"Can ve please move on now?" asked Krieg.
"No!" Rune shouted. "What the fuck does that mean? A vampire?What is this horseshit?"
"Girl, you are really pushing it right now," Hookwolf growled.
"Do you not know what a vampire is?" asked Nietzsche, raising a bushy eyebrow. "Immortal undead, creature of the night, drinks blood?"
"You are not a fucking vampire! Vampires aren't real!"
Nietzsche shrugged. "Okay, I suppose I just imagined being born a fifth century Visigoth and living sixteen hundred years subsisting on human blood, then."
"Rune." Kaiser spoke with his authoritative voice, making the young girl go pale. "You will show respect in these meetings. Am I understood? I apologise, Nietzsche. The girl meant no offence."
The vampire waved it off. "It's no problem."
Kaiser looked to Rune again.
"Now, to quickly answer your questions, yes vampires are real, yes Nietzsche is one of them, and yes he's also a parahuman, but that's unrelated. Does that clear everything up?"
"No?!I have even more questions now!"
"Good. Now, moving on..."
Rune spluttered in protest, but Kaiser just cleared his throat and continued his speech.
"As I was saying, it has been a challenging few days for all of us. But in spite of it all, we have survived. It was not without losses. Not without sacrifices." He gave a pointed look to Victor and Menja. "Those who laid down their lives in defence of this city... they will be remembered. But for those of us who remain... I feel we are called to a higher duty now."
Reaching up, Kaiser lifted his helmet, breaking it away from the rest of his armour to leave his face exposed. He set it down on the table, taking in the surprised looks of the rest of his followers. For most of them, it was not the first time they had seen him unmasked, but it was likely the first time they'd seen him unshaven and with bags under his eyes. This was him presenting a more honest face, if only so he could sell them lies for just a little longer.
Let's see how it goes.
"I'm sure you've all heard what happened, the day of the attack. Many of you likely heard that I was left insensate, or mentally impaired. I've even heard rumours that I was murdered by Kayden in the hospital bathroom. As you can see, this is not the case. I am as I was, and as I intend to remain. But the truth is, friends... something did happen to me. I did nearly lose my life that day. It was only thanks to Fenja's... Jessica's sacrifice, that I stand here today before you all."
Nessa let out a sniffling noise.
"...And when one has such a close brush with death... it makes one reevaluate one's place in things." Kaiser looked down at the back of his armoured hand, flexing his fingers. "I have a duty to all of you, as your leader. I have, for too long, not put the needs of my people first in my mind. Only ever a distant second to my own ambitions. I speak not just of our people, or the white race as a whole, but all of you, here in this room.
"You all have suffered in the name of the cause. You have all suffered from Coil's flagrant disregard for the rules that govern cape society. You have all suffered from Leviathan. I seek now to redress these losses. To build up the Empire again into an organisation we can truly be proud of. One that puts the needs of its people first, above all else."
The Empire capes shared looks across the table with each other, none of them seeming quite sure what to think. As Kaiser leaned back in his chair, giving them a moment to take it in, he steepled his fingers like the villainous mastermind he was.
"To that end... while I know we're all big fans of fascism here, I want to start taking a somewhat more... democratic approach to how we move forward from here. All of you have proven your worth to the Empire many times over. All of you are valued. And so, I believe all of you should get a say."
"Meaning vhat?" said Krieg, leaning in over the table. "Vhat are your plans, mein Kaiser?"
Kaiser wrinkled his nose, resisting the urge to reprimand Krieg and make fun of his stupid fake accent again.
"I have several plans for how to proceed," he said, carefully. "Most relevantly, I believe I have a way that all of us may be able to safely return to civilian life."
A number of Kaiser's followers around the table sat up straighter, now suddenly much more interested.
"...But I do not know that it will be a popular course of action. So before I decide on a definitive plan, I need to gauge the general mood. I'm going to ask all of you a series of questions, and I would like all of you to be as honest as you possibly can. You will find no judgement from me, whatever your answer, and it will not affect your standing in the Empire. All of you here, I expect you to keep your silence outside this room about whatever you may hear and learn from your fellows today. Is that agreeable to everyone?"
There was an awkward pause, before a round of muttered and uncertain agreements from everyone. Kaiser nodded, and took it as a sign to proceed.
"First question. How many of you here are true believers?"
A table of odd looks greeted Max, like they weren't sure what he meant. Only Kayden seemed to have some idea, her eyes widening imperceptibly. Kaiser ignored them all, and kept up his poker face, as he'd done many times before.
"By that I mean, why did you join the Empire? Are you here to fight for the cause? For your race and homeland? Or were you drawn in for other reasons?"
Still silence at the table.
"There's no shame in it, if you are not truly... ideologically committed. Not everyone is. Some join the Empire for family. For a sense of community and belonging. Some join to earn fortune and success for themselves. Some do it just for the thrill of the fight. These are all valid reasons to fight for the Empire Eighty-Eight. I wish only to know, which are your reasons?"
He looked around at his followers.
"...Raise your hand if you're here for your own reasons. If you're driven by something other than ideology."
Nobody at the table raised their hands, shooting each other more unreadable looks instead.
Damn it.
"Okay..." Kaiser sighed. "Then raise your hand if you're a true, dyed-in-the-wool white supremacist. If you'd rather put a shotgun in your own mouth than have a conversation with a black person."
Krieg's hand shot right up, along with Night and Fog's. Hookwolf's and Victor's followed right after, and the rest of the table gradually, uncertainly raised theirs. Kayden raised hers as well, fixing Max with a flat, half-lidded stare.
Kaiser pursed his lips, while cursing in his thoughts. This result was useless. They were all too afraid of his wrath to be honest, or too caught up in keeping up appearances in front of their comrades. He knew for a fact that Hookwolf wasn't a true believer. He was lying. But these were neo-Nazis, the ultimate conformists. Peer pressure was everything to them.
It was time to try a different tack.
"Okay." Kaiser straightened. "A different question then... opinions on the holocaust?"
He noticed Kayden and Nessa both freeze up, and allowed himself a slight smile.
Gotcha.
Chalk lightly squeaked against the board as Lisa wrote her bullet points under the fifth column, while the rest of the Undersiders watched intently from their seats around the room.
"So... let's summarise what we know," said Lisa, turning back to them and pointing to her notes. "Kaiser, real name Maximum Anders, CEO of Medhall, leader of the Empire Eighty-Eight, and ex-husband of Kayden Anders, AKA Purity. Outed by our boss two weeks ago. Nearly killed by Leviathan yesterday as a result of Armsmaster's failed ploy. Allegedly left as a drooling vegetable in the hospital after seeing Panacea, and was last seen alive being led to the bathroom by Purity, where he then mysteriously disappeared, leaving behind evidence of a violent confrontation, and a blood trail leading out of the hospital. Any questions so far?"
"Yes, I have one," said Brian, briefly raising a hand. "Did you just call him Maximum?"
"Yyyyyyeah?Why?"
"Lisa... that..." Taylor cleared her throat. "Max isn't short for Maximum. Maximum isn't a name."
Lisa paused. "No. No, it totally is."
"It isn't."
"Well, my power says that's Kaiser's name, so clearly it is," said Lisa, folding her arms and smirking.
"Your power has been wrong before," said Brian, clasping his hands.
Lisa wavered a hand. "I'm at least eighty— no, eighty-five percent certain his name is Maximum."
"I am murderously sure it is not," said Taylor.
"Well, what do you think it's short for, then?"
"I don't know?" Taylor shrugged. "Probably Maxwell? Or Maximilian?"
"Ha!" Lisa grinned. "Nice try, Taylor. You're going to try to tell me, a thinker, that Maximum isn't a name, but Max-a-Million is?"
"Wha—? How do you not—?"
"I always thought 'Max' was short for 'Maximus,'" Alec interrupted. "Like that Aleph film. Gladiator."
"His name could just be Max." Rachel said with a frown.
"You're all wrong." Lisa shook her head. "It's Maximum. I will bet any amount of money you like that it's Maximum."
"What happened to eighty-five percent certainty?" Brian asked, leaning forward with an uncharacteristically smug smile.
Lisa playfully glared back at him. "Well now it's a hundred percent."
"Okay, you're on," said Alec. "Two grand says it isn't Maximum."
"Deal. Anyway, we're way off-topic. Max Anders. Kaiser. That rich asshole who runs our favourite white supremacist gang. The going theory in the PRT and online is that he was probably murdered in the bathroom by Purity, who took his body away somewhere, since she was seen flying away shortly after the incident... However, we know that's not what happened."
Taylor nodded. "Lisa and I saw Kaiser jumping out the upper floor window just after you guys left. He fell and broke his leg, and then limped away, dragging what looked like another set of his armour with him, possibly with a body inside. He didn't notice us, but he was talking to himself and cursing a lot, so... probably brain damaged, but definitely not a vegetable."
"Which is interesting, isn't it?" said Lisa, smiling while exaggeratedly rubbing her chin. "So let's put our detective hats on. We have Kaiser going from basically insensate to walking and talking in a matter of minutes without parahuman healing. He spawned a second suit of armour for some reason, which he felt the need to carry with him when he left. He was leaving in quite the hurry, if jumping from the window was any indication. And when he left the hospital bathroom, he left it covered wall to wall in gore and metal spikes. Purity was seen rushing out the hospital in his direction shortly afterwards, and all of this was preceded by...?"
"A trigger event in the hospital," Brian said gravely. "One which everyone mistook for Taylor's, but was actually—"
"Kaiser's." Lisa grinned. "Whatever caused it, Kaiser second triggered in that hospital bathroom after Purity left him alone. Something happens to him, he somehow duplicates himself, and one of the duplicates ends up dead. My running theory is that the original Kaiser second triggered from realising he's brain-damaged, and developed a power that lets him create a healthy version of himself, but it kills the original in the process. Sort of like Oni-Lee's power, but with less teleporting and dust, and more healing and blood explosions."
"Jesus Christ..." Brian shook his head.
"So the new Kaiser panics and tries to flee with the body – which is what Taylor and I saw – and his second trigger coincides with our confrontation with Armsmaster, so that leaves everyone else thinking that Kaiser is dead, and that our bug girl is the one who got the upgrade. But in reality—"
"In reality it's the Empire that just got stronger." Taylor had a hard edge to her voice. "They may have lost a few capes to Leviathan, but their heaviest hitter just got a lot harder to deal with."
Rachel growled.
"I know," said Lisa, nodding in her direction. "We all hate those assholes, but—"
"Not them," Rachel snarled, pointing at the TV. "Him."
Everyone's heads swerved to the silent TV, currently showing a thin, middle-aged white man in a suit, with slick black hair and an impressive jawline.
"...Governor Northbrook?" Lisa asked, looking back to Rachel with a raised eyebrow.
"Yeah. Him. Don't like him."
"...Not saying you're wrong to, but why not, out of curiosity?"
"'Cause he's a snake," said Rachel. "He's a bigger snake than fucking Coil, and Coil's such a snake he has snakes on his costume."
"Really?" Taylor tilted her head. "I've never heard much complaint about him. My dad voted for him. Said he came from a working class family, supported the unions, even if he can't get much done with a Republican majority in the state congress."
"Is your dad a retard?" Rachel snapped.
"What— Fuck you!" Taylor glared at her. "What do you know about state politics, anyway?"
"I know that Northbrook is not fucking working class," Rachel spat. "He's a rich fuck who puts on an accent. He says his dad worked in a warehouse, but not that his dad's uncle owned the fucking company. He says he worked in fast food as a kid, but he went straight from that to a consulting job for AP Logistics after college, where his grandpa was the majority shareholder. He says he's an outsider to politics, when his wife's dad was a lobbyist in Washington for fourteen fucking years, and Northbrook went to parties with senators and state reps. But he takes a few pictures in a high-viz and hardhat, and suddenly he's a little guy just like us? Fuck off. That Rochester photoshoot was faker than his hairline."
Taylor blinked incredulously, while Lisa, Brian, and Alec stared wide-eyed at her.
"Also, tell your dad, Northbrook doesn't give a shit about unions. He blames the Republicans for blocking his bills, but he knew they were never going to pass. Even his own party thought the Revitalisation Act was retarded. Blythe, Radenberg, and Higgins voted against it – all lifelong Democrats – because they knew it was a dumb fucking plan and cost way too much, and they'd get murdered by their constituents if it passed. It was all just an act. Northbrook makes fucking token gestures to impress his voters, and then uses party politics to blame the other side when it fails so they don't get pissed at him. Same thing the Republicans do, 'cause they're all in bed together in that fucking snake pit!"
"Umm—" Taylor tried to interject.
"You think Northbrook and that Conover guy are enemies?!" Rachel shouted, standing and looming over her now, red in the face. "No!They're best fucking friends when the camera's not on them! They go fucking golfing together! Northbrook doesn't want to bail out the shipping industry any more than he does, 'cause they both know it's doomed, and both have investments in the long haul companies that are replacing it! Stupid fuckers think the two sides are so different just because Northbrook's pro-abortion and Conover is anti, or whatever other stupid shit, but notice they never disagree on anything that'll make them richer while fucking over the rest of us!"
Rachel grabbed Taylor by the shoulders, shaking her furiously.
"Do you not fucking get it?! Northbrook doesn't have beliefs! He doesn't have opinions! It's all bullshit! Political fucking mist! And he's been doing it for ten years, because dumb fucks like you keep voting for him!"
By the end of her rant, Rachel was practically frothing at the mouth. Taylor lay almost horizontal on the couch, unresisting, looking up at Rachel's glare with eyes like a particularly bewildered owl.
The beeping of Brian's ringtone broke the tension, distracting them all. He silently took out and looked at his cellphone, before quickly standing and walking off to Lisa's kitchen to answer the call, leaving the other Undersiders to handle the situation.
"Where the fuck did you learn all this?" said Alec, still staring at Rachel. "I thought you couldn't read?"
"None of your fucking business!" she snarled, turning on him next. "Just stop voting for fucking Northbrook!"
"I don't vote in the first place!" Alec raised his hands in surrender. "Why are you on my case?"
"None of us do, for that matter," said Lisa. "Voting age in New Hampshire is eighteen."
"Good," said Rachel, stomping back over to her armchair and falling into her seat, before pointing a finger at Taylor. "Whenever you see your dad next, tell him he's a dumb fuck. A dumb fuck who voted for a shit governor, and who doesn't know anything about state politics. Tell him that, Taylor. Tell him those exact words. I want him to know."
"Uhh..." Taylor rapidly shook her head as she sat up from the couch. "S-Sure...?"
Rachel nodded, satisfied.
"...Okay then, definitely coming back to that later," said Lisa, watching Rachel with a curious eyebrow. "But let's deal with the more immediate problems first. So Kaiser—"
Before she could continue, Brian came storming back in from the kitchen, quickly grabbing his coat off the chair and throwing it on.
"Grab costumes. We're heading out."
"What?" said Taylor, sitting up. "What happened?"
"Sister triggered," Brian said, reaching into his coat pocket.
"Woah, wait, what?" asked Alec, jumping to his feet.
Meeting his eyes with an eerily blank look, Brian pulled a handgun from his pocket, loaded a magazine, and cocked it.
"Sister triggered."
"You all know it. You've all heard of it." Kaiser spoke in the pompous, imperious tone he usually used for his rallying speeches, trying to get the room in the mindset. "You know what the Jewish media says about it, and you know what Gesellschaft says about it. So let's see where all of you stand. Who here believes the holocaust didn't happen?"
Krieg, Night, and Fog of course all raised their hands first again. Of course they would. That was the official party line of Gesellschaft. Pied Piper denied all wrongdoing, either by himself, or by the original Hitler and his administration. According to them, it was all Allied and Jewish propaganda. But it wasn't a line that all white supremacists bought, necessarily. There was a gap here that Kaiser could drive a wedge into.
Hookwolf also raised his hand again, the liar, and Rune, Cricket, and Stormtiger all followed his lead. At the other end of the table, Nietzsche also raised his, though he seemed hesitant. But Kayden kept her hand firmly down, glaring at him, while Nessa seemed to debate raising hers, before ultimately deciding against it. Crusader didn't move, frowning at Kaiser instead. Most curiously, however, Victor didn't raise his hand.
Interesting.
"Who here believes it did happen, and that they deserved it?"
Krieg let out a small, strangled squeak, and slammed his fist on the table, clearly upset to have been presented with an even edgier answer that he couldn't give his agreement to without contradicting both himself and his masters.
Hookwolf let out a loud guffaw.
"Y'know what? I'm gonna change my answer!" He raised his hand again. "Good one, Max!"
Kaiser kept up a subdued smile, trying not to show his distaste. He noticed Cricket hesitantly change her answer too, but interestingly, not Stormtiger. His eyes lingered last on Victor, expecting him to raise a hand, but still nothing.
Very interesting.
"Okay..." Kaiser said, smiling. "Big one now. Who thinks it didn't happen, but that it should have?"
Krieg's hand shot up again, gleeful to finally have an answer to the dilemma of the last question. Night and Fog followed his lead again, but slower this time, as if unsure. Kayden shot them both a dirty look. Rune snickered, raising her hand, the little demon child, and Hookwolf laughed too, but didn't respond this time. Still nothing from Victor.
"Very good. Very interesting." Kaiser smiled and nodded. "But let's hear secret option number four... who believes that the holocaust did happen... and that it was kind of fucked up?"
There was another round of hesitancy at the table. Kaiser noted Nessa's hand wavering.
"Doesn't have to mean you're a Jew-lover, or that you're fine with foreign invaders overrunning your country," Kaiser coaxed, giving them permission in the only way he knew they'd accept. "Just answer honestly. Who here thinks that the systematic mass murder happened, and that it was a step too far? Maybe you feel you would've done differently in Hitler's place?"
Kayden rolled her eyes and finally raised her hand. So did Nessa. Justin followed, and to the table's surprise, Victor too.
Hookwolf huffed. "Seriously, Vic?"
Victor cocked his head.
"You know how it is, Brad. You absorb enough historical literacy and critical thinking skills... and it makes you start to doubt the obvious bullshit."
"I thank you for your honesty, ladies and gentlemen," Kaiser said smoothly, before an argument could erupt. "I think it's good to know where we all stand, and this has been insightful. One more thing, though..."
He took a long pause, taking time to meet each of their eyes again. He gave a wary look to Krieg last, took a breath, and let it out.
Moment of truth.
"...Would it affect any of your answers if I told you that it was all true? That Pied Piper himself told me that it happened, and that he lied about it?"
For a second, it was like the air was sucked out of the room. Then everything exploded.
"The fuck,Max?!" Krieg screamed as he stood from the table, dropping his fake accent for his native Missouri drawl for the first time in as long as Max could remember.
"You dare question der fuhrer?!" Night shouted, standing as well, while her husband pounded the table with his fists. "Or... repeat... the fuhrer's words...? Without permission?!"
"What? No, that... that doesn't make any sense..." Rune mumbled while shaking her head at the end of the table, barely audible above the din.
"Ohhhhhhhh boy!" Hookwolf laughed. "Just casually dropping fucking tactical nukes into the conversation today!"
"It's Gesellschaft!" Purity shouted at the table, visibly exasperated. "You cannot all be surprised by this!"
"I am more than—!" Krieg tripped over his words, quickly reasserting his accent. "I am more zhan fucking 'surprised,' Purity! I am fucking livid! Zhis is falsehood, and a betrayal of ze vhite race, and everyzhing zhe Gesellschaft stands for!"
Kaiser rolled his eyes.
"Krieg, for once in your life, please don't be so fucking melodramatic," he said, dryly. "The crimes of a failed foreign government that fell decades before any of us were born are not the be-all, end-all of our ideology or our movement. I just want a more honest assessment of where we all stand."
"I— ve—" Krieg spluttered in disbelief, audibly spitting inside his gas mask. "Our gang's name literally means Empire Heil Hitler!"
Kaiser coolly stared him down.
"Which meant a very different thing when our organisation was founded, back when Hitler was a long dead martyr from the forties, and not a still living shithead who regularly posts bad takes on social media while prancing around Germany in a frilly costume."
He turned to face the rest of the table.
"I ask you all, seriously now. Do any of you actually like Pied Piper? Do any of you think he's sane, and that Gesellschaft has sensible political goals? I remind you, Hitler's primary method of recruitment nowadays is luring unattended children away from schools and playgrounds by dressing like a clown and playing the flute, and then locking himself in a bunker with them for months at a time. If he were ever caught, he'd probably be on the sex offender registry. I mean, look at Night and Fog. You cannot tell me that these two were not molested."
"I have only ever had consensual sexual relations with der fuhrer!" Fog screamed, beating his chest.
Everyone turned to stare at Fog, his wife included. Kaiser let the following awkward silence sit for a while before he broke it.
"...I rest my case," he said with a casual gesture in Fog's direction, as Night pulled him back down into his seat.
"Yeah, okay," said Hookwolf, shrugging his broad shoulders. "Gesellschaft are dumbfuck eurotrash, and Hitler is a fruity lala homo-man. We knew that. What are you getting at, Max?"
While Krieg made a series of wild hand gestures and strangled noises of apoplectic rage, Kaiser calmly outlined his plan.
"The purpose of my questions is simple – to find out just how highly all of you in this room value Gesellschaft's mission, and how it has so far dictated the cause of white nationalism and white separatism in the United States. In my convalescence after Leviathan, I have had much time to contemplate and reconsider how we have been fighting this war so far, and I can only conclude that we have been going about it in entirely the wrong way, a big part of which has been tethering ourselves to the Gesellschaft.
"What I propose is that the Empire take this opportunity to sever ties with Gesellschaft, reform, reorganise, and restructure. And in doing so, I believe we may be able to reclaim some of what we have lost."
"Yeah, sure, I'm down," Hookwolf said with a chuckle. "Fuck those limp-dick lederhosen faggots."
"You cannot be fucking serious!" Krieg shouted. "Vhat are ve even fighting for if ve abandon zhe mission now, vhen ve are needed zhe most?!"
"What we always have," Kaiser said smoothly, wearing an easy smile. "Our community. Our neighbours. Our city. We just... may need to adjust some definitions."
"I do not understand," Victor said, frowning. "What exactly will we be 'reclaiming' by severing ties with the Gesellschaft?"
"Everything," said Kaiser, standing from his seat, leaning his hands on the table. "Your lives. Your homes. Your jobs. Your freedom. I cannot give you back your privacy, but I can restore your good names. I can even get Medhall back on its feet. And all it will cost is that you are willing to bite your tongues, compromise, and disavow that toothbrush moustached fuck across the ocean."
Another round of silent stares around the table was broken by a long sigh from Krieg, who hung his head in defeat.
"...Vhat do you propose, exactly?"
"It's simple, really." Kaiser sat and spread his arms. "Gesellschaft recruits by brainwashing, and Pied Piper is a master. We aren't criminals; the Empire Eighty-Eight all this time were merely victims of his power."
"What," said Purity, blinking.
"Zhat... is the stupidest fucking—"
Hookwolf burst into laughter.
"I love it! No fucks given! Just lie to their fucking faces and walk off scot-free! They can't prove we weren't under mind control! That's checkmate!It's fucking brilliant!"
Victor sighed and held a hand to his forehead, like he was massaging a headache.
"Brad," he said slowly. "You were wanted for murder before joining the Empire. How does this help you?"
"Eh." Hookwolf shrugged. "I'll figure something out. But it'll probably work for the rest of you. And you can't deny, it's pretty fucking funny. I am all in favour of this plan."
"Vhy..?" Krieg muttered to himself, shaking his head. "Vhy me, oh Lord? I do not deserve zhis. I have done literally nozhing wrong!"
"So... wait a minute," said Rune, raising her hand again. "Does this mean we're all gonna have to pretend like we don't really believe in all the race stuff?"
"In public? For the most part? Yes." Kaiser steeled himself as the disapproving looks and muttering began to spread around the table. "Purely for appearance's sake, of course. We need to establish plausible deniability. But in exchange, all of us – or at least, most of us – will be cleared of all criminal charges in our civilian lives. You will be free to go back home. Medhall can resume trading in good standing, providing gainful employment to all. And as for the Empire Eighty-Eight, we will be free to go our own direction, without the interference of Gesellschaft. Safer. Cleaner. Putting the needs of our neighbours and our community first, above the needs of a failed foreign dictator."
"You suggesting we rebrand as heroes?" asked Crusader.
"Of a sort, yes. But I believe this will make us much more effective." Kaiser smiled, leaning back in his seat. "Think about it. What have we accomplished with our current methods? What is our long term goal, as an organisation? We know we will never see a whites-only Brockton Bay in our lifetimes. We will never see a return to the days of segregation. Those ships have not only sailed, but been sunk by that fucking Endbringer. We are, to a degree, already forced to coexist with the blacks and Asians, and what we have been doing for the past decade has been little more than damage control, fighting a defensive war to protect white Americans from these foreign invaders.
"And yet, we are just as often forced to fight and kill our fellow white men for that mission, race traitors though they may be. Our criminal status puts us at odds with the majority of the police, with the PRT, the Protectorate, and even white independent hero teams such as New Wave. Polite society as a whole rejects us. This only hobbles our ability to protect white Americans, legitimises revenge attacks on our people, and emboldens our ethnic and ideological enemies such as the ABB.
"Were we to 'rebrand,' as Crusader put it, we would be well-positioned to focus on our true mission. We could dedicate ourselves entirely to rebuilding Brockton Bay and protecting the people we care about, and fighting only those who would do them harm, without unnecessary distractions like peddling drugs, or busting people out of jail, or getting into pissing matches with the Undersiders over fucking dog-fighting rings. Understand?"
Hookwolf folded his arms and grumbled.
Victor nodded. "So in short, we're ditching the Confederate flag pickup trucks for blue uniforms and cruisers, metaphorically speaking?"
"Yes, precisely," Kaiser answered with a smile.
"...I'm down," said Crusader, raising a hand.
"Yeah, I'm fine with this," Stormtiger agreed.
"...Sure." Rune shrugged.
Kayden reluctantly nodded. "It's a decent plan. I think we can make it work. I've already tried going the hero route myself, and it wasn't... that different to how we do things now."
"I agree," said Victor. "Needs some fine-tuning if we want the heroes to buy it, but we're more than up to the task."
"The hero stuff sounds pretty lame, but it's a solid plan," said Hookwolf. "I'll support it, if only because it would be fucking hilarious to see that fat bitch with the bobcut being forced to smile and shake our hands."
Krieg laid his head down on the table, covering himself with both hands while making quiet sobbing noises.
"Fuck my fucking life..." he mumbled, followed by a series of curses in German.
Night, Fog, and Cricket all reluctantly gave their assent as well, while Nessa quietly nodded, showing just the faintest hint of a smile. Nietzsche was the last to give his approval, answering with a simple nod.
"Good," Kaiser said with a smile. "I'm glad we all agree."
Krieg let out another wracking sob.
"Finally, just for the sake of my own curiosity..." Kaiser scanned the table one last time. "Now that you've all heard the truth, and you know my intentions... I wonder has anyone's answers changed? Put your hands up if you now believe that the holocaust happened, and that it was a bad thing?"
He grinned as hands went up all around the table. Kayden, Nessa, Justin, and Victor answered the same as before. Cricket, Stormtiger, and Nietzsche all put up their hands when they didn't last time. So did Rune, though she did so reluctantly, looking at the floor rather than at anyone else. Night and Fog needed Crusader and Purity to kick them under the table, but put their hands up too. Even Hookwolf put up a hand.
Kaiser tilted his head slightly, surprised at him.
Brad smirked.
"Don't get me wrong, I'm not going soft. I just think gas chambers and crematoriums are some pussy shit. If you're gonna wipe out a whole race, make it a fight, I say."
"...Lovely," said Kayden, rolling her eyes at him.
Well, probably the best he could expect from Hookwolf.
Finally, with some effort, Krieg pulled himself upright again, letting out a defeated sigh.
"Okay, fine," he said, sounding like he was speaking through gritted teeth. "Maybe it happened..."
Kaiser grinned. He'd done it. He'd gotten them all. Even Krieg. This meeting had gone better than he ever dared hope for.
Maybe they had a shot after all?
Krieg banged a fist on the table. "...But it vasn't six million!"
But then again...
"Well, this went to shit pretty fast," Thomas said, being led down the hall of the PRT headquarters in handcuffs. "Are you absolutely sure this is necessary, Emily?"
Piggot glared as she marched alongside him and the troopers.
"Save it, Thomas. Out of character rudeness and shirking of duties? Suspicious, but far from the worst thing you've ever done to me, and potentially understandable under the circumstances. Getting caught with a supervillain's body in your dumpster? Extremely suspicious, but I can give the benefit of the doubt if the explanation is plausible enough. But both at once? That's beyond my Calvert bullshit threshold. Something is going on with you today, and I intend to find out what."
"I said I was sorry," Thomas groaned as they entered the PRT's secure elevator. "I was drunk. We just went through an Endbringer attack, and I got zero sleep last night. Are you seriously throwing me in master/stranger containment for that?"
"Yes," Piggot said, punching a button on the wall and flashing an ID Card.
"God, this is a stupid way to get caught," Thomas said, rolling his eyes. "This whole timeline is a wash."
The PRT troopers suddenly became more alert, raising their weapons slightly and each taking a step away from him.
"Timeline?" said Piggot, turning to him. "Caught? What?"
"Fuck you. I'm Coil. My power is splitting timelines with different decisions and choosing afterwards which outcome I want to happen."
Piggot's eyes widened, and both PRT troopers suddenly turned their guns on him.
"I hate you so much, Emily. You don't even know. Sometimes I make throwaway timelines just to fuck with you. Do you have any idea how many times I've confessed to you like this? How many times I've tortured you, or killed you, or used you to indulge whatever other whim I had at the time? It's so fucking cathartic every time it happens. Only, this time, I can't even enjoy myself with a nice defenestration and office shooting spree, because you've got me in these goddamn handcuffs, so I'm just going to have to settle for making you and this entire universe not exist to me anymore."
"Wait, no!" Emily shouted.
"Have fun being entirely theoretical from my subjective point of view, fuckers!"
"Stop him!"
Light Coil laughed as he closed the timeline, snapping back together with Dark Coil, who was busy scrubbing the puke out of his carpet in the living room.
The now singular Thomas Calvert huffed and rose to his feet, looking around the now slightly cleaner room.
He was sure there was a lesson to learn from this experience, though he wasn't sure what yet.
A ringing from his pocket interrupted his pondering. It was his villain phone, not his PRT one, so he drew it and answered without delay.
"Yes?" he said.
The following words from Mr. Pitter froze him in place, and Thomas had to replay them in his head a few times before he could process them.
"What the fuck do you mean they lost it?!"
Author's notes:
Chapter theme:
Paul Williams – Bad Guys (From "Bugsy Malone" Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)
Alternate chapter title: Rachel Lindt DESTROYS Liberal Supervillains With FACTS and LOGIC and Also GIANT DOGS
By the way, I also recently wrote a horror oneshot for Halloween called Together Forever. It's about Vicky and Amy. Go check it out. TW: Contains Amy.