The Kaiser's New Clothes

by Three Rejects

By a twist of fate, Kaiser survives his encounter with Leviathan, at the cost of a second trigger, his dignity, and some severe head trauma. Now he's about to make that everybody else's problem.

5. Chapter 4: The Great Dick-Hater

I would like it to be known before we begin that this chapter contains jokes which outright can't be displayed on the [THIS SITE] version because it's an ancient fucking dinosaur of a site that hasn't updated its UI in like two thousand years, and for some inexplicable reason can't handle the registered trademark symbol. Please, for the love of fuck, if you aren't already doing so, go read the AO3 or Spacebattles versions instead. They're actually not irreparably broken.

---

The Kaiser's New Clothes

Chapter 4: The Great Dick-Hater

The power in Medhall came back in a wave of flickering lights, crackling sparks, and distant screams from unfortunate employees caught near exposed wiring. A fire alarm went off on the lower levels, and the whole building rumbled as something exploded in the basement. However, despite the chaos, the office lights were on, and the intact computers were whirring to life, so Kaiser only smiled and kept walking, confident in the maintenance team's ability to handle the crisis.

He marched up the steps to the top floor, shadowed by Purity, Krieg, Victor, and Menja. The others had already departed to handle their own assigned duties for the day. Hookwolf was leading the charge with his people to reclaim some of the Empire's smaller holdings that were lost in the chaos after Coil, and the others had various other tasks of their own, mostly involving re-establishing contact with the rank and file gang members.

And of course, Nietzsche had gone back to his coffin to sleep for the rest of the day. Because he was a vampire.

That left Kaiser himself and his core team to handle the business at Medhall, which they began right away as they emerged onto the executive level where Max's office was located. The main lobby was a mess, with rips in the carpet, and gouges and bullet holes in every wall. A line of police tape in the middle of the room sectioned off a large patch of bloodstained floor, where Krieg had beaten a PRT agent to death with a giant fibreglass statue of Meddy Medicine, which still lay in broken chunks around the room.

"Right," said Kaiser, snapping his metal fingers and producing an odd sound. "Nessa, you're on legal defence. We need outside representation with no Gesellschaft ties, stat. Get Quinn Calle on the phone. Arrange us a meeting here as soon as possible."

Wasting no time, Menja moved behind the secretary's desk outside the entrance to Max's office, taking off her helmet and booting up the computer.

"Calle?" Krieg said with a note of distaste in his voice. "Isn't he a Latino?"

"All the better," said Kaiser, grinning. "If we're to shed our old image, we will need to begin working with ethnic minorities in a professional capacity, and Calle is an ideal first collaborator. He doesn't stand on morality or ideology, doesn't take things personally, and will not care if we are villains or white supremacists, so long as the money's good."

Krieg let out a small grunt of acknowledgement. Nessa already had a website up for Quinn Calle's firm, and was dialling a number on the office phone.

"Sam." Kaiser clicked again, pointing at Victor. "You're on narrative. We need an airtight alibi for Calle to sell to the PRT. It needs to cover as many of us as possible, leave room to argue for leniency on the rest, and it needs to stand up to scrutiny. Gesellschaft are going to dispute us, but so long as its their word against ours, I think we'll be in the clear."

Victor nodded, taking a seat at Nessa's computer while she was on hold.

"James." With a final snap, Kaiser pointed at Krieg. "You're on crisis management. You called the employees in today, so you probably know better than anyone right now who's left and what we've got. I need a complete inventory of all company assets still under our control. Until we're into phase two and can get our accounts unfrozen, it's going to be lean times, so I want to scale back gang operations, and consolidate the manpower and resources we still have. Priority one right now is survival. If we have to use Medhall for that, so be it."

"Understood," Krieg grumbled resentfully.

He grabbed a clipboard and notepad off the desk and started checking through it.

"And when you get a moment, can one of you please send somebody out to the deli on Lord Street? Let me know if it's still standing, and if it is, fetch me a kaiser roll."

Sam, James, Kayden, and Nessa all simultaneously turned to glare at him, but he ignored their disapproving looks as he pushed through the smashed wooden doors leading into his office.

"Kayden, you're with me."

She followed after him into the long, open room. It was spacious, but not absurdly so for an ultra wealthy CEO's office. Medhall was still a business, after all, and Max did like to make economic use of the floor space where he could. He just afforded himself a little more space for certain luxuries, like a few paintings, the additional book shelves, and the wine bar. The room also had a large raised platform surrounded by leather sofas in the corner, which Max had always told visitors was just a lounge with an oversized table – though, to anyone in the know, it was very blatantly a stage where he could use his powers to summon stripper poles big enough for two fifteen foot tall women.

The office looked much more ragged than usual after the shootout with the PRT that had occurred here. Several bottles at the wine bar were broken and had leaked their contents everywhere. Most of paintings were fallen or hanging askew. The walls and bookshelves around them were damaged and pockmarked with more bullet holes, and Max's desk over by the window had been split in half. The window itself had been shattered into pieces, letting a cold draft into the room.

There was also another line of police tape and giant bloodstain in the centre of the room, from where Krieg had beaten the other PRT agent to death with a different fibreglass Meddy Medicine statue.

"So what am I doing?" Kayden sighed, eyeing the crime scene with evident distaste.

"You and I have the most important job of all..." Kaiser said gravely.

He came to a stop in front of a book shelf, and folded his hands behind his back. A mechanical click and whirring came from behind the wall as Kaiser worked the lock with his powers, while remaining outwardly motionless. Kayden's interest visibly piqued, and she came closer to observe. There was a rattling noise, and the bookshelf and a section of wall slid aside, revealing a heavy vault door. With a theatrical twirl of Max's finger, the spindle turned on its own, and the door opened inward to admit them into a pitch black room.

Max stepped inside, Kayden following closely after him. She instinctively began to glow, but before she could fully illuminate the room, Max turned on the overhead lights himself with a clap of his hands, revealing to her his deepest and most well protected secret.

Kayden jaw hung open, and turned to him with an incredulous look.

Max simply nodded.

"Yes," he said. "You and I will be rebuilding my LEGO castle."

He crouched down next to the damaged sculpture, a fully movie accurate recreation of Hogwarts which took up most of the room. Several of the towers and walls had come loose and shattered over the floor, littering little LEGO bricks everywhere. He had expected this when he came in today. He was sure he had heard it shatter back when the heroes attacked the building. That didn't make it any easier to see it like this.

Max gently touched the side of the castle, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh of grief.

"...Max, what the fuck?" said Kayden.

"I liked the movies, okay?" Max said quickly. "They were whimsical, and charming, and reminded me of the good parts of my childhood!"

"What movies?" Kayden shouted, becoming increasingly confused and hysterical. "Max, what the fuck are you talking about? What is this?"

"See, this is why I kept secrets!" Max turned away from her and began collecting LEGO pieces on the floor. "A man can't just have a hobby without women judging him for it! You wanted a reason to trust me? Here it is! This is me, opening up, being honest with you! All the shit I didn't do throughout our marriage! This is what I do my free time! I build LEGO castles!"

Kayden blinked, staring at him still. He paused collecting to look back at her.

"...Say something."

"I... don't know what to say." Kayden folded her arms. "I'm supposed to trust you now because... you have a toy castle?"

"A LEGO castle," Max said insistently.

Kayden shook her head and sighed.

"Okay. Thank you, Max. Thank you for being honest and sharing this with me. I still don't know what I'm supposed to make of this, or what you want from me."

"I want..." Max sighed as well, dropping his hands and the LEGO bricks. "I want to start over. I want to rebuild the trust I lost... and also my castle."

"Is that what all this is about?" Kayden gestured behind her. "Breaking away from Gesellschaft, trying to turn the Empire into heroes? Is all this just to impress me? Because it's what I want?"

"No." Max stood up, level with her. "Not just you. Theo and Aster, too. Kayden, I have been a terrible father, and I was an even worse husband. I nearly died yesterday, and if I had, I know none of you would've mourned me."

"That's... not true..." Kayden couldn't look him in the eyes as she said it.

"Yes it is," Max said, nodding stoically. "And I wouldn't even blame you all. I don't deserve it. But that's precisely why I'm doing this. I don't want to be what my father was to me. I want to be somebody my son can respect, and who you can trust and rely on, because that's what you both deserve. I want us to be a family again."

He moved toward her, grabbing her hand, and her eyes shot back to him, now wide open. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"I never loved you like I should've." Max let out a breath, and used his power to adjust his heart rate and keep his outward composure. "I said the words without really meaning them, because I knew you would believe it. I think deep down I never really got over Diane, and I was using you to fill a void, not seeing you as your own person. It was selfish, and it was wrong, and you deserved so much better. I want to be better for you."

Kayden barked out a broken laugh, and covered her eyes to wipe away the forming tears.

"So what, you're saying this time it's going to be different?" She pulled her hand away from his, and stepped back from him. "You're saying you didn't love me before, but all of a sudden now you do, because losing a chunk of your brain gave you some miraculous epiphany? Do you know how ridiculous this sounds? Why should I believe any of this, Max? Because you showed me your Lego set?"

She didn't even pronounce the .

"No." Max swallowed. "No, it wasn't... It wasn't Leviathan. It was that you were there for me. In the hospital. By my bedside."

Kayden stared silently.

"You cared for me when nobody else did," Max continued. "You were there when I wasn't myself. You came looking for me after I ran off. You calmed me when I was rattled, and took me back home with you, even though I've done nothing to deserve it. Maybe that was all just duty to you, loyalty to your leader rather than any act of love. But I remember how you used to love me, before I fucked it all up. And that night, when I was lost and confused, I was holding onto that memory for dear life, because it was the only thing that felt normal."

He moved closer to her. She stepped back again slightly, but not enough to create any real distance. Max's hand came up to her face, and his armoured gauntlet dropped off mid-reach to let him caress her cheek with his real fingers, while her tears began flowing again.

"You're a good person, Kayden," he said.

"No, I'm not." She brought her hand up to his, holding his wrist, but not pushing him away. "Not really."

"Yes, you are. Deep down, you are." There was a note of melancholy in his voice. "I was the one who ruined you. From the moment we met, I was using you for my own purposes. Playing on your affections while pretending not to notice. Whispering poison into your ear that I didn't even believe in myself. Twisting your good intentions into something ugly. If it hadn't been for me, maybe you'd have been a real hero."

Kayden grit her teeth, finally pushing his hand away and drying her eyes again.

"I am not some naive little girl being taken advantage of, Max," she said, bitterly. "You didn't make me who I am. I made my own choices. I own my mistakes. I chose to leave my family. I chose to swallow your bullshit. I chose to..."

She swallowed.

"...To hurt all those people." She glared at him. "And I chose to come back. Please at least have the decency to recognise that."

"You're right. I'm sorry." Max stepped away, giving her space. "But you also know I'm right, that you could've been better without me dragging you down. And I am sorry for that."

Kayden said nothing.

"That's why I want us to start over, and be better this time. I know you loved me once. And I'm sure that on some level you still care for me, at least in some small way. So I have to believe that if you loved me before, maybe one day you could again, if I can just prove to you that I can be someone worth your love."

"It doesn't work that way, Max!" Kayden shouted. "Yes, of course I still care! What I felt for you... feelings like that never go away completely. But the man I felt them for didn't even really exist! He was just a mask you wore, someone I imagined in my head, and the memory just hurts every time I look at you and remember it was never real. How am I ever supposed to forget that, Max? How can you possibly think it can ever be the same again?"

Her eyes were still red and her face was flushed, but she held back the tears this time, replacing them with a frustrated anger.

"I want to believe you. I want to believe that you're really trying to be better, and I genuinely hope you will be. But I can't trust it. You've lied to me too many times to win me back with grand gestures and pretty words. I can't let myself fall for you again. I won't. I won't put myself through all of that again, Max."

Max looked to the floor. His hand involuntarily trembled, so he used his power to steady it.

"I understand." His throat was dry, and the words came out rough. "You don't owe me forgiveness. But it doesn't matter. Whatever you think of me, I will be better. Even if you never stop seeing me as the man I was, I promise you, I won't be that man ever again. He's dead and buried."

Probably under a pile of garbage, he silently added.

Kayden gave him a grim smile.

"I'll believe it when I see it."

Silence hung in the air between them. There was nothing else to say.

It was then that Victor came striding into the room.

"Hey boss, thought I should let you know that Krieg is trying to betray us, and is calling Hitler right—"

He stopped in his tracks as he noticed the contents of the room, and Max and Kayden stared back at him like deer in headlights.

"Is that a LEGO Hogwarts?" Victor asked, pointing at the partially demolished castle. "Bro, that's rad as hell."

Kaiser rushed past him, out of the vault, and bolted in the direction of Krieg.

---

"Armsmaster. We need to talk."

Those were the words Legend and Miss Militia had used as a pretext to drag him away from the hail of trash being thrown at him by the hospital's parahuman patients that night. He had obediently followed, slinking away while covering his face with his one remaining arm, until they led him into an empty office and shut the door behind him. At Legend's indication, Armsmaster took a seat.

Legend let out a sigh.

"Colin, you know I have... had... tremendous respect for you as a hero. I didn't want to be put in this position. But you've crossed a line today, and I cannot ignore that."

Part of him wanted to protest, to get angry, to speak up in his own defence. A bigger part of him said that Legend was right, and he slumped in his seat, unable to make eye contact with the man.

"I threatened Skitter with the Birdcage merely for using the truce to uncover a Ward's identity," Legend continued, his voice severe. "The fact that you used it to set fellow volunteers up to die – villains or not – for sake of... I don't even know what. Vanity? Ambition? It's beyond the pale, Colin. We need heroes and villains to work together against the Endbringers if we're to have hope. People need to trust us, to know that the truce means something. You betraying that trust puts all of us in danger."

"I know." Armsmaster nodded, still looking at the floor like a schoolboy being scolded. "I was a fool."

"Worse than that, I cannot even say that this was a one-time mistake," Legend shook his head, grimacing. "This recklessness is rapidly becoming a pattern of behaviour for you. I thought – nay, I hoped – that rotting Lung's genitals off was the worst it would get, but apparently I was wrong."

Armsmaster sat up suddenly.

"That wasn't me! That was Skitter!"

...Was what he wanted to say. He'd wanted to say it for weeks now. Every time the PRT troopers or other heroes gave him looks. Every time Director Piggot brought up "the Lung incident" to dress him down, or the Wards referred to him as "Dickmaster" when they thought he couldn't hear them. Every time Commander Calvert had patted him on the back, congratulated him for it, and invited him out for drinks after work. It was all too much.

But instead, he stopped himself before he could form the words.

He couldn't believe what he was thinking right now. He'd sold Skitter down the river so many times already. A naive young girl who had wanted to be a hero, who had only wanted to impress him. But for the sake of his injured pride, for the sake of being known as Dickmaster, he had repeatedly driven her away with his hostility. He had set her up to die as a sacrifice to ensure his victory against Leviathan. He had betrayed her secret to her teammates for no other reason than petty spite. And now she was fully in the arms of the villains. Now she had second triggered because of him.

And was it so surprising she had? The girl obviously had issues with authority. He remembered how reluctant she had been to join the Wards. How she had refused to come in to the PRT with her information. Perhaps her original trigger had somehow involved being betrayed by the authority figures in her life? It was obvious in retrospect. And then he had evidently done it all to her again, made her relive the worst day of her life and break again right there in front of everyone. Every parahuman knew what that felt like, the amount of suffering he must have inflicted on that girl. They were all right to hate him for it.

And even then, even after all that, there he was, about to betray Skitter to save his own skin again. For something so meaningless as his reputation, which he had already tarnished beyond belief today through his own faults and failures.

I'm a fucking monster, he thought.

"We can't let this slide," Legend said with a frustrated sigh, oblivious to Armsmaster's sudden bout of inner turmoil. "We have to hold you accountable for this, otherwise it could place all future Endbringer defences in jeopardy. I brought you in here to place you under arrest. I thought we could at least do you the favour of bringing you in discreetly, away from prying eyes. Let Armsmaster at least exit with some dignity."

Armsmaster swallowed. "Thank you, Legend."

"Miss Militia?"

Legend nodded in her direction, and Armsmaster watched as his long-time colleague pulled out a set of standard PRT-issue handcuffs.

"You have the right to remain silent," she said. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney..."

She continued reading his rights as she pulled him to his feet. He did not resist, letting her lock him in the hand... cuff.

Miss Militia's Miranda rights spiel trailed off as all three of them simultaneously noticed that she had just handcuffed a one-armed man.

"...Ah," said Armsmaster.

Somehow this was even more humiliating than the Lung thing.

Miss Militia responded by screaming at him in the exact tone of Colin's alarm clock.

---

The obnoxious buzzing continued to ring through the tinker containment cell as he returned to the waking world. Armsmaster, Colin Wallis, slumped out of his cot and landed head-first on the floor with a groan, blankets tangling around his legs. Rather than correcting his posture, he instead pulled his blankets down on top of himself to form a makeshift pillow on the floor, eyelids flickering as he tried to resume sleep.

"Colin," Dragon's voice said over the intercom. "Colin, wake up."

"Ughhhhhh..." he whined, twisting around in his covers.

"Colin, please..."

Reluctantly, Colin gripped the sheets with his single remaining hand and pulled them off, tossing them to the side. Bare chest exposed to the open air, he pulled himself the rest of the way off the bed, and then shakily stood, stretching and cracking his joints while blinking away his sleep.

"Apologies. I know you needed the sleep; you were awake for forty-eight hours straight. But it's past midday already."

Colin sighed, shuffling over to the desk and chair by the wall and collapsing into his seat without even bothering to get dressed. A laptop with no internet connection and only the default programs installed lay open in front of him.

"What does it matter, anyway?" he muttered, massaging his arm stump. "What do I have to wake for? I've got nothing left ahead of me but a trip to the Birdcage."

"You're not going to the Birdcage," Dragon said confidently. "The director was cleared to keep you here under house arrest. You're too valuable a tinker to give up over a single lapse in judgement."

Colin turned his chair around to stare at Dragon's avatar, animated on the screen on the other wall. He blinked at her.

"They would still trust me with that?" he asked.

"Under supervision, of course," Dragon said wryly.

Colin's eyes were downcast. "They shouldn't. Not me. Not after what I did."

"Normally I might agree." He flinched at her words. "You betrayed all of our trust yesterday, mine included. And yes, there will be consequences for that. But I've been observing you, and I can see how the guilt has been eating at you. You know what you did wrong. There's no need to punish you any more than necessary. I don't believe in kicking someone when they're down."

A pained chuckle escaped Colin's throat. "No, of course not. You're a hero. A real one. Not like me..."

"You're a hero too, Colin," Dragon said, so earnestly he almost believed her. "You did a bad thing, but that doesn't undo all the good you did."

"No?" Colin's tone was bitter. "Fucking Mannequin was a hero once. Would any of his victims or their families say that his crimes don't erase his good deeds?"

"You aren't Mannequin, Colin," Dragon sighed.

Colin gave a one-armed shrug.

"Maybe not. I like to think I did what I did for good reasons. Killing Leviathan here would've saved millions of lives. Possibly billions. I thought that was worth a few supervillains. I still stand by the moral calculus of that. But that wasn't my choice to make, and I let my personal issues blind me to that. Legend was right; I crossed the line. I betrayed the truce, betrayed you, and then on top of that, I failed. I cost lives instead of saving them; I'm no better than a villain."

"Colin..." Dragon's avatar on the screen made a complicated expression, like she was trying to decide on something.

He sighed and swivelled his chair away from her, running a hand over the laptop.

"Don't be mistaken. I don't plan to just sit here feeling sorry for myself. If the PRT wants me to keep working, then I'll work. At least I can still be useful while serving my sentence. Maybe I can still make a difference in some way, even if only from behind the scenes. I just... need some time to recalibrate first."

"Of course." Dragon's avatar nodded. "But Colin... listen, I won't lie; I was hurt. I trusted you, and learning what you did was a shock to me. I thought we were really friends. But... I understand why you did what you did, and why you felt like you couldn't trust me, and... for my part, at least, I want you to know that I don't hold any ill will towards you. I hope that we can still have an amicable working relationship."

Colin turned back to her, eyes wide.

"We are friends," he said, standing up abruptly. "Dragon, I'm... I'm sorry. I thought there was no other way. I was wrong."

There was a brief silence in the room.

"I believe you," she answered back, with a smile on her avatar. "And I forgive you."

Colin broke into a smile too, for a moment, before it abruptly turned into a frown.

"Did you just use my lie detector on me?"

"Uhhhhhhhh... no?"

He blinked, and then let out a genuine chuckle.

"...Thank you, Dragon. It means a lot to me. I like you a lot, and I would hate to lose your friendship." His smile turned bitter. "Unfortunately, I hurt a lot more people than just you. And I'm not so sure anyone but you would be so quick to forgive me..."

Collapsing back on his chair, Colin wistfully stared up at the ceiling.

"Is this about Skitter?" asked Dragon.

Colin winced. "I made her second trigger, Dragon. A teenage girl. She wanted to be a hero when I met her. And now I've driven her away, into villainy. Some hero I am..."

"It may not be too late..." The expression on Dragon's avatar became determined, and her eyes began scanning back and forth, as if reading something. "If we can make contact with Skitter before too much time passes, we may still be able to make amends and, if not win her back, at least reduce her animosity towards heroes..."

"You think so?" Armsmaster raised an eyebrow. "Dragon, she said she'd rather go to the Birdcage than join the Wards."

"I'm... sure she was just being hyperbolic," said Dragon, though much less confident than before. "If nothing else, it's worth a try, isn't it?"

"I suppose."

"If you like, I could send out some drones to look for the Undersiders? See if we can find Skitter, pass on a message from you?"

Colin rubbed his beard contemplatively.

"Would we be able to send an apology gift?"

"I can do that," Dragon said with a smile. "What were you thinking?"

"I don't know. What do teenage girls like these days? Dresses? Makeup? Boy bands?"

Dragon's happy expression soured.

"Hmph. I hardly think Skitter is the dresses and makeup type, do you?"

"I don't know!" Colin shrugged helplessly. "I don't spend a lot of time around kids! As evidenced by how badly I screwed up with this one! The only teenage girl I even know is Shadow Stalker, and she's just... fucked."

"Mm." Dragon tactfully didn't comment. "Boy bands are also probably a no-go, considering..."

"Considering what?"

"You know."

Colin didn't know, but didn't want to embarrass himself further by saying it.

"Hmm. What about Protectorate merchandise, then?"

"...Are you being serious?"

"Why not? She was obviously a fan of heroes when I met her. She's a cape herself. And maybe it could inspire her to return to the light?"

"I... am not so sure she would see it that way, Colin. Don't you think it would just come off as rubbing salt in the wound?

Colin paused to consider.

"Depends what we send, I think. Some gifts may be more welcome than others. If we pick something that shows consideration..."

Dragon's eyes were scanning back and forth again.

"Well... Armsmaster merchandise is going for a massive discount right now, so whatever you want to send, at least we can get it cheap."

"Huh." Colin tried to fold his arms, but then remembered he only had one. "I guess that figures... So what've we got?"

Dragon let out a sigh.

"Armsmaster posters... Armsmaster calendars... Armsmaster action figures... Armsmaster recreation halberds... toy Armscycle... Armscycle patterned actual bicycle... Armsmaster Halloween costumes... Armsmaster beard care products..."

"I have beard care products?" Colin asked. "I mean... I'm not opposed, but I don't remember signing off on that."

"That's because you wrote that program to automate all your brand deal signings."

"Oh, right."

"Armsmaster brand stationery, Armsmaster brand backpacks and pencil cases, Armsmaster breakfast cereals, Cooking With Armsmaster recipe book... "

"What?" Colin blinked. "But I don't cook? I eat nothing but microwave food these days."

"I don't know what to tell you, Colin. Your algorithm agreed to it. Maybe consult with your tinker friend next time you build something like that? Anyway, we've got the Armsmaster home toolkit range, Armsmaster first aid box, Armsmaster carpets and wallpapers, Armsmaster camping tents and survival gear, Armsmaster tattoo parlour playset..."

"Tattoo parlour? What?"

"Armsmaster stress balls, Armsmaster coffee-maker, Armsmaster ant farm, Armsmaster Betamax cassette player..."

"Dragon, are you just reading all these in random order?"

"No, the website is really badly organised. I've been meaning to optimise it for ages, but Glenn Chambers keeps stonewalling me. I don't know what his problem is. Armsmaster sewing kit, Armsmaster vacuum cleaner, Armsmaster rat poison, Protectorate Secret Origins Armsmaster comic books, Armsmaster tractors, combine harvesters, and other industrial farming equipment... "

"Wha— Why?"

"Armsmaster limited edition Cheetos... these were produced in 2005, so I have no idea why they're still listed on the webstore..."

"Oh God, those were awful..." Colin blanched.

"Armsmaster 'male enhancement' products..."

"Dragon, I am beginning to regret algorithmically automating my brand deals."

"Oh, Armsmaster clothing range!" Dragon sounded excited.

"Okay, that's something normal." Colin let out a sigh of relief. "What've we got for clothing? Anything Skitter would like?"

"Armsmaster hoodies, Armsmaster jackets, Armsmaster t-shirts, Armsmaster pyjamas, Armsmaster underwear..."

"Time out." Colin frowned. "Armsmaster underwear?"

"Yeah. Standard stuff. Boxers, briefs, bras, panties."

"You mean to tell me there are official Protectorate branded panties with my face on them?"

Dragon tried and failed to suppress a giggle. "Not your face, just the logo."

Colin shook his head.

"That still seems incredibly inappropriate to me. Why are Marketing putting the logo of a male superhero on girls' panties?"

"I don't know, but they're incredibly popular with all ages. They're by far the best selling item in your clothing range."

"What? Why?!"

"Some sort of viral marketing campaign, I think? I remember seeing a lot of memes about it on PHO over the years. There was also a recent resurgence of interest after word got out about you rotting off Lung's penis."

A note of despair crept into Colin's confused babbling. "Seriously? This is a thing? This has been a thing all along, and nobody told me? These actually exist, and people buy them?"

Dragon laughed.

"Fuck yeah, they exist! I own several."

Colin suddenly sat up straight. "What?"

"What?"

A deep, prolonged, and painfully awkward silence filled the cell, while Colin and Dragon's avatar both stared blankly at each other. Their eyes were locked, neither blinking, and neither giving any hint of an expression. For almost a full half a minute, nothing broke the silence, and it seemed like nothing ever would. Desperation forced Dragon's hand.

"...Colin, I'm an AI."

---

"Should we be worried about the gun?" asked Taylor, looking around at her teammates.

She was sitting in the back of the Undersiders' van in full Skitter regalia, across from Regent and Bitch in their own costumes. The dogs stood or sat where they could, all going through the beginning phases of growth from Bitch's power, though at a steady enough rate to keep them from immediately taking up too much space. The vehicle rattled beneath them as they sped through ruined neighbourhoods at way over the speed limit.

"Why?" Grue asked in the echoing voice he always had while using his powers. "What's there to be worried about?"

He was still casually holding up the loaded gun in his free hand, while keeping the other on the wheel to steer.

"Just... you don't usually carry lethal weaponry," Taylor said, keeping still while all her bugs in the van fidgeted awkwardly on her behalf. "I understand why Tattletale does; her power isn't combat-oriented, and she needs it to defend herself. But the rest of us don't, especially not against unpowered thugs. That's why we don't have them, right? It's an escalation of force. And this is your sister we're talking about, so this is personal for you. I'm just wondering where your head's at."

"Look, it's very simple," Grue said calmly, gesturing with the gun. "These guys are Empire, they're hunting my sister, and they made her trigger. If I find out they've... done anything to her... then they have to die. No two ways about it."

He shrugged. "I don't make the rules. I'm just enforcing them."

"I don't think that's actually a rule..." said Taylor. "And it's probably a bad idea besides."

Grue turned to stare at her in the rear view mirror. She couldn't actually see his face beneath the darkness and his skull helmet, but Taylor imagined him looking at her with the same eerie blank look he'd had when they left Lisa's apartment.

"Are you telling me I shouldn't kill the white supremacists trying to murder my sister?"

Taylor opened her mouth to speak, but promptly shut it again. Looking around the van, she noticed all of her teammates staring at her, including Tattletale looking back at her over the front seat. She suddenly realised what a social minefield she was treading through.

"Umm... noooo?" Taylor ventured. "I mean... that's... your decision to make, and I wouldn't blame you for wanting to... just..."

She grasped for the words, and finally clutched the thread she had lost at the start.

"Just... this feels like an emotional decision, and you're usually more practical than that. The Undersiders have gotten by so far by keeping to the rules, not escalating to lethal force if we don't have to. We've built a rep for it, and that's worth something. I just think we shouldn't throw that away over unpowered Empire thugs."

Grue sighed.

"Look, Skitter, I get your point, and I understand where you're coming from. Normally, I'd be all with you. But respectfully, you don't know what we have to deal with. These people are fucking animals. I can tolerate the Empire in a professional capacity. I can work with their capes when it comes to truce situations or keeping the peace, and I already think that's very magnanimous of me, considering.

"But I'm not letting them lay a finger on my sister. And that's not an emotional decision. I have considered this very carefully, and I believe that lethal force is more than warranted in this situation; it's not breaking the rules if the other side breaks them first."

Tattletale nodded.

"You don't go after a cape's family." She was looking at Taylor as she spoke, explaining for her benefit. "That's crossing a line, even among villains. Lack of lethal force is a courtesy we mutually extend. By targeting Aisha, the Empire forfeit the expectation of mercy."

"Thank you, Tattletale," said Grue.

"I personally don't like the idea of going lethal either," Tattletale continued. "But if Aisha is hurt, and Grue wants blood for it, then most villains would say that's his right. Probably even most Empire villains, if they don't want to be hypocrites."

"Do they even know she's Grue's sister?" asked Taylor. "What if this is just a coincidence? Are we really going to kill these men for a rule violation they might not have even known they were committing?"

"Yeah," said Regent, reclining in his seat. "It's just a random, run-of-the-mill hate crime against a family member. What's the big deal, Grue?"

Taylor frowned at him under her mask. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

"In fairness, they probably didn't know." Tattletale shrugged. "Grue's identity is pretty well protected, and Aisha is exactly the type to get randomly targeted anyway. Plus if it were a cape thing, they'd probably have sent their own capes for it, not their flunkies. But it wouldn't be the first time the Empire stepped over that line, or used a normal to do it. New Wave lost a member to an Empire wannabe a few years back. Murdered in her own home, since her civilian identity was public. It was a pretty big blow to their movement at the time."

"Right, I think I remember that," said Taylor. "Fleur, right?"

"Yep. And the guy was still accepted into the gang after that, so obviously Kaiser didn't mind that much. This all could still be a coincidence. Probably is, in fact. But the Empire definitely haven't earned the benefit of the doubt, and nobody can reasonably blame us for assuming the worst under the circumstances."

"Frankly, I don't care," said Grue, casually pointing the gun at the van roof. "This is Aisha. My sister. I'm supposed to protect her. That's the only reason I do all this. If those Nazi fucks have done anything over the line to her, then they're dying. I'm sorry, but this is not up for debate."

"Wow..." Regent said wistfully. "When did you become so fucking cool, Grue?"

"I have always been cool," he replied, deadpan.

"Heads up!" Tattletale called, holding the grab handle above her door. "This is the place!"

The van screeched to a halt in a ruined street, surrounded by tall, water-damaged apartment buildings. The road was a ruin, full of burst pipes and flooded craters, and piled up with upturned cars, broken street signs and traffic lights, and other garbage. The whole road was silent apart from the arriving van, largely abandoned by its residents, probably even since before the flood.

The side doors of the van opened, and the Undersiders stepped out, followed by Bitch's dogs. A shitload of bugs that Taylor had been gathering descended on them as a swarm, joining the ones she'd brought with her, while they marched towards the building Tattletale had pointed out.

"Any Nazi you see, drop 'em," said Grue, holding the pistol at his side while pointing a finger ahead.

"Drop 'em meaning kill 'em?" asked Regent, raising a hand.

"No." Grue holstered the weapon at his side. "Not yet. We'll figure out if they need to die when we find Aisha. Just bust their kneecaps for now."

"Got it, boss!" Regent saluted.

Bitch cracked her knuckles.

They came to the broken front door, entering single file, with Grue leading from the front. Bitch trailed at the back to cover them.

"Brutus, guard."

Brutus obediently stopped in the doorway, blocking it off from anyone who would try to flee. The giant mutant dog sat down, tongue lolling out, while he wagged his tail happily.

"Getting anything, Skitter?" asked Tattletale.

She focused on her swarm as her bugs flooded the building, mapping out the area in her head, as was her usual tactic nowadays.

"Few of the apartments are still occupied. Some families still here. Some people trawling the open lower floor apartments. Can't tell if they're scavengers or residents..."

She trailed off for a moment, noticing something unusual.

"...There's a group of armed men going door to door towards the back. Looks like skinheads. A couple of them are bleeding in places. Minor wounds. Recent."

"What about Aisha?" asked Grue.

"I don't know..." Taylor muttered. "She could be... wait... yes, this way!"

Taylor formed a message with her bugs in the abandoned apartment where Aisha was hiding to let her know they were coming, and used some of the rest of her swarm throughout the building to form arrows for Grue.

After a minute of navigating the lower floor corridors, they came to the door they were looking for, and Grue rushed ahead. He tried to break it down, but the door was unlocked, and swung open for him without resistance, causing him to fall to the floor.

"I take back what I said about you being cool," said Regent, casually stepping over him.

Taylor and the others entered behind them. The apartment, like most others on this level, was ruined. The windows were broken, the carpet and furniture were soaked, and mud and filth covered everything in the room up to knee level. The place looked like it had been recently ransacked, with open drawers and cabinets everywhere, and random stuff littering the floor.

"Aisha?" Grue called, jumping back to his feet. "Aisha!"

"Hey, bro," said a weak voice.

Taylor looked to the left side of the apartment, where Aisha Laborn stood in the kitchen doorway, dressed as deliberately trashy as ever. She was smiling while partially hunched over, one hand clutched to her ribs, while the other held a kitchen knife.

"Aisha!"

Grue ran to her side and pulled her into an embrace, which she gladly returned, dropping the knife to the floor.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she said, voice a little stronger this time. "Tried to fight them when I realised I got powers. I can... sort of... turn invisible or something. They forgot I was there. But my power shorted out when I hit the first guy. They got some hits in, kicked my ass, but I got away for a bit when my power came back. Fucking Nazis..."

"Jesus..." Grue reluctantly let go of her. "Good thing you called. What about Dad?"

"Dad's fine." Aisha waved dismissively. "He forgot about me too and ran away when my power activated. I drew the Nazis away from him. He called back afterwards, but I told him I'm fine."

Grue let out a sigh, nodding. "Good."

"Not invisibility," said Tattletale, rubbing her chin. "You're memory-proof. You're still visible, but other people just can't notice you or remember you. Works automatically, too. You had to consciously turn it off to let us find you, right? Pretty neat power."

"Really?" said Regent. "That's badass. You could pull some epic pranks with a power like that. Just walk right up to a guy and pants him without anyone noticing or knowing how."

Aisha grinned. "I like your style. Regent, right?"

"That's me."

"Oh God..." Grue shook his head. "I fucked up. The two of you were never supposed to meet."

Aisha actually cackled, and Taylor couldn't help but take it as an ill omen. But something else grabbed her attention before she could comment on it.

"Heads up, gang," she said, turning towards the door. "We've got Nazis coming."

A gang of four Empire grunts of varying ages appeared at the other end of the hall, armed with a variety of weapons. The man in front was a twenty-something tattooed skinhead in a leather jacket, carrying a baseball bat. The others trailing behind him were a pair of older teens, and a younger boy around Taylor's age.

One of the older teens was also a skinhead, armed with a bike chain, while the other had a blond buzzcut, a swastika tattoo on his face, and carried a katana of all things. Taylor guessed it was probably a trophy from the recent war with the ABB. Finally, the kid in the back was relatively normal looking, and would've fit right in around Winslow, apart from the fact he wore a set of brass knuckles.

Then again, Taylor had known more than a few Winslow kids who brought brass knuckles to school.

"Hey!" Leather Jacket called out when he saw Taylor, pointing his bat at them.

Before Taylor could respond, Aisha rushed out in front of her, brandishing the kitchen knife again.

"Come on, assholes!" she shouted. "Round two! Let's fucking go!"

The men all charged down the corridor together, straight towards the apartment.

"Goddamnit, Aish—!" Grue shouted, before darkness flooded the corridor and cut off all light and sound.

Drawing her extendable baton, Taylor used her bugs to navigate the darkness. She and Grue moved out together, coordinating to drop all four Nazis with well placed strikes to their knees, faces, and torsos. It was over in a matter of seconds.

Once all four were down, Grue banished the darkness,

Tattletale, Regent, Bitch, and Aisha now stood in the corridor as well. Bitch's two remaining dogs had grown bigger, and with a point and a whistle from her, one quickly moved to the other end where the Nazis had came from to surround them.

"You boys fucked up," said Grue, drawing his gun again.

"Woah, woah, hey man!" Chain Guy raised his hands in a panicked surrender, staring down the barrel of Grue's gun. "This is some kinda mistake! We didn't know this was gang business!"

"No, this was just you guys looking around for my fucking sister," said Grue, pointing the gun at him. "You know what happens when you mess with a cape's family?"

Taylor's bugs shifted, but she gave no outward indication of her discomfort, instead folding her arms and looking on passively. This was Grue's business, and she wouldn't undermine him here.

"W-W-Wait!" Leather Jacket held up a hand, as if to somehow block Grue. "We didn't know she was cape family, man! This was just a... like a... a-a random thing, you know?"

Grue stuck the gun against Leather Jacket's forehead, causing him to let out a whimper.

"Not fucking helping," Grue said coldly.

"Wait a minute..." Swastika Face made a confused expression. "You're black? Grue is black?"

Chain Guy also paused. "Wait, yeah, didn't you guys fight alongside us against the ABB?"

"Truce is a truce," Tattletale said, folding her arms. "We set aside our differences and grievances when there's a common enemy to fight. Not that you guys would know anything about accepting differences."

Taylor nodded, mostly just to participate in some way.

Suddenly, Swastika Face started laughing.

"Dude..." Brass Knuckle Boy whispered worriedly.

"Something funny?" asked Grue, pointing the gun to him next. "Want to share the funny thing with the rest of us?"

Swastika Face still laughed.

"I just realised!" He giggled. "The darkie has darkness powers!"

Everyone but him froze.

"Oh God..." said Chain Guy.

After a moment's pause, Grue pointed the gun lower and shot Swastika Face in the testicles.

---

Kaiser charged towards the small side office James often used for his business at Medhall, bursting through the door in a crash of metal and splintered wood.

"KRIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEG!"

The Nazi in question turned around with a shocked look on his face, a phone held up to his ear. He turned to face Kaiser at the last moment, but not quick enough to dodge the fistful of spiky metal that smashed into his jaw.

Krieg went reeling, dropping his phone on the desk and slamming into the office wall.

"Gah!" he shouted, holding a gloved hand to his chin, "Max, what ze fuck is wrong with you today?!"

An ordinary person would've been killed or at least badly maimed by such an attack. But for Krieg, it had been little more than a light tap, enough to surprise, but not enough to really hurt. He hadn't even drawn blood.

Max stared him down, furious. James visibly tensed, assuming a fighting stance.

Their stand-off was interrupted by a familiar yet distorted voice echoing through the room, coming from the cell phone on the desk.

"Hello? Krieg?" said Adolf fucking Hitler, or at least a clone thereof. "Were you calling for something? What was that noise?"

Krieg reached for the phone, but Kaiser tugged on one of his skin cells on the floor, and a metal spear burst up from the carpet to cut off his path, allowing Kaiser to reach the phone first.

"Ah, mein fuhrer!" Kaiser said with forced cheer, holding the phone up. "Apologies for the interruption. Krieg called you by mistake."

He enunciated the words clearly, keeping eye contact with Krieg. An indignant rage crossed the man's face.

Across the phone, they both heard Hitler sigh. "Yes, he does that often. Please discipline your subordinates more effectively in future, Kaiser. I do not have the time or patience for this."

"Mein fuhrer, I have important news—!" Krieg called.

By now, Kaiser had had enough time to coat every exposed surface in the room with his power, and used them to create several more spears jutting from the walls around Krieg, pointing straight at his throat. They wouldn't be able to hurt him much, if at all, but the threat was clear.

Kaiser became aware of Victor and Purity coming up behind from the sound of their footsteps. They stopped in the doorway to the office, holding back.

"Ah, I believe I know what you are calling about," said the phone. "I appreciate you keeping me informed, but you did not need to tell me. I already heard the news an hour ago."

Kaiser, Krieg, Victor, and Purity all shared a quizzical look.

"...You did?" asked Krieg, uncertain.

"Indeed!" Hitler's voice suddenly became excited. "It was not widely reported on, with Leviathan's attack dominating the news cycle, but I always have men monitoring American news broadcasts and papers for any mention of my archnemesis."

There was another pause as everyone exchanged looks again. Krieg shrugged.

"I didn't know you had an archnemesis, mein fuhrer," said Kaiser, keeping a casual tone.

"I did, but not anymore!" His voice grew louder, taking on the triumphant and bombastic tone that had once characterised his political speeches. "The Slaughterhouse Nine got to her last week! At long last, Mouse Protector is dead, and now the Pied Piper's control of all rats and children is uncontested!"

"That's... wonderful," Kaiser said flatly, even though the Slaughterhouse Nine getting anyone was the least wonderful thing he could think of. "We're all glad for you."

"Yes," said Hitler, sounding pleased. "So, Krieg, was that all?"

The blades near Krieg's throat extended just a tiny bit further, and he remained silent. James glared back at Kaiser, swallowing.

"...Krieg?"

Suddenly, Krieg lunged.

"ZHEY ARE PLANNING TO BETRAY YOU, MEIN FUHRER!"

Kaiser swore, his metal spearing into the wall, while Krieg ducked below and dodged around his attack. More metal shot up from the floor beneath him, but he deftly rolled out of the way, leaping up onto his office desk.

A shouting came from the phone, but nobody could hear it in the chaos. Victor had pulled out a pistol and started shooting rapidly, while Purity was glowing and charging a beam.

Both struck Krieg, making him jerk, but neither prevented him from leaping off the desk and closing the distance with Kaiser.

More metal burst from the walls to shield him, but Krieg's punch shattered through and struck Kaiser in the chest, throwing him backwards hard enough to not just hit the wall, but to smash straight through it.

"Max!" Purity shouted.

He hit the floor hard and landed on his back, sliding a short distance before the spikes in his armour anchored him, leaving gouges in his wake.

Gasping, Max sat up, already working his power to fix the damage to his lung as best he could. Another thunderous punch sent Purity flying out through the door, before she recovered midair. Victor was backing up, still firing. As soon as his gun ran dry, he quickly drew another magazine from a concealed pocket, rapidly reloading and resuming his steady rate of fire with military efficiency.

Krieg casually stepped out of the room through the hole in the wall, now wearing his gas mask again, and holding the phone to his ear.

"Zhey are planning to abandon ze cause, mein fuhrer," he said, coldly. "To break away from ze Gesellschaft, and blame ze Empire's crimes on your master ability. I vill not let zhis stand."

Whatever Pied Piper said in response to that, they were all too far away to hear. But Krieg plainly heard it.

"Jawol," he said simply. "Zhis will only take a moment..."

Krieg ended the call, pocketing the phone, while Kaiser climbed to his feet, and Victor and Purity came to stand beside him. He looked over his shoulder and smiled to himself when he saw Menja come running over to them, already growing in size and readying her spear.

They stood opposite each other, Kaiser and his supporters lined up on one side of the hall, and Krieg standing alone on the other. Ordinarily, Kaiser would say that the odds were in their favour, but after his losses to Lung and then to Leviathan, he was done underestimating his opponents.

Krieg's power was a shaker ability to manipulate kinetic energy in a radius around him, working most effectively at close range, and dropping off with distance. Kaiser had seen him pull off some neat tricks with that ability over the years, affecting things like air pressure, resistance, and friction. He was also able to use it to enhance his own strength and speed, making him a pretty hard hitter. But by far the most useful aspect of his power was how it automatically protected him from harm, significantly reducing the speed and damage of any incoming attacks, even without Krieg's direct conscious input.

Kaiser had always thought of that power as an asset. He'd never expected to ever seriously face Krieg as an enemy. The idea was daunting.

But of course, that didn't mean he'd never given the match-up thought before, and wondered how he would win. They were parahumans. Conflict was in their nature. And like any other parahuman, Kaiser had always had that little voice deep down inside him that asked, "what if?"

So yes, he had a plan. Sort of.

"We don't have to do this, James!" Kayden shouted, raising a glowing hand.

"No, I think ve do."

Krieg drew a bag of ball bearings from his pocket, grabbing a handful and throwing them across the room. With the force of his power behind them, they hit like shotgun pellets, blasting Kaiser back. Purity dodged with her flight, while Victor ducked behind Menja's legs for cover and resumed fire.

"You are such a little bitch-boy!" Kaiser shouted over the room.

"Fuck you! Vhy does everybody keep calling me zhat?!"

This room, too, Kaiser had already sufficiently coated with cells. Though this time, he had directed most of them towards the ceiling, cueing up the attack that in his mind he called "the Sword of Damocles." Last time he had pulled this move, against Lung, it hadn't worked so well. But Krieg was no Lung, and this time Kaiser's allies weren't second-guessing him or holding him back.

He formed the blade on the ceiling, as large and heavy as he could manage it, but something was different this time. It was slower somehow. Harder. More difficult. He couldn't seem to pull the same amount of mass out of it. Ordinarily he could grow his blades to monstrous sizes if he so desired, but right now it seemed like his limits had been dramatically shortened.

Damn it.

Krieg threw another shotgun blast of ball bearings, staggering him again. His armour caught the worst of it. Purity was firing more beams from near the ceiling, and Menja was advancing and poking at him with her spear, but Krieg kept dodging or redirecting their attacks. Purity's beams seemed to be the biggest threat to him, or at least the attacks he was most worried about and trying hardest to avoid, but she couldn't hit him too hard without risking destroying even more of the already damaged building. If only they were fighting anywhere but Medhall.

And still the Damocles wasn't forming properly. He had no choice. He had to strike now, before Krieg moved positions, so he brought it down with a wave of his hand.

"You asked for this, James," he muttered.

The moderately sized hunk of metal broke from the ceiling, crashing down on top of Krieg. His power still attempted to redirect it, making the metal slide off of him to the side, but crucially, it wasn't enough to stop part of it from still hitting him, and he was knocked to the floor.

Menja seized the opportunity to stick the spear into his back, pushing him down. Kaiser had cells underneath Krieg, so he helped by growing a field of short spikes out of them, stabbing up at him from below while Menja stabbed from above.

Together they were managing it, but even lying down on his stomach while being stabbed at from both directions, Krieg was still resisting them; it was taking the valkyrie visible effort to hold him in place. Her spear kept trying to slide off to the side, and she couldn't press into him nearly as hard as she normally would. Kaiser too could feel that his metal wasn't making full contact. It was like he and Menja were trying to hold together two magnets which were actively repelling one another. That was what fighting Krieg's power was like.

While he was under control for the moment, Kaiser sauntered over to Krieg's side, and crouched down next to him.

"Are you feeling pressured, James?" he quipped.

"Nyyyrgghh...! Fffffuck you!"

Krieg tried to stand up, struggling against Menja's spear, but she just pushed him down harder.

"I didn't want to be in this position." Kaiser's voice was calm, smooth, and arrogant, holding all the same gravitas he usually felt in moments like these, even though his heart was pounding and his breath was short at the moment. "I wanted you to be a part of the new Empire we're building. But it seems like your loyalty remains with the fucking moustache man."

"Zhat man..." Krieg gasped, gritting his teeth. "Zhat man has done more for ze vhite race than you or I could ever dream!"

"He is a nutty fucking fruitcake, Krieg," Kaiser said, shaking his head in disgust. "I'm sorry I couldn't make you see that. I didn't want things to end this way. I really didn't."

Purity landed next to them a short distance away, while Victor moved in with his gun still pointed at Krieg, keeping a distance.

"Are we killing him?" Purity asked with concern.

"I don't think he's going to give us a choice," said Kaiser, still trying to steady his breathing.

"What do we tell his wife?"

"I don't know yet. We'll..." Kaiser took a deep breath. "We'll..."

Menja's spear slipped, and the giantess began to collapse.

Normally Kaiser would've welcomed the sight of Nessa's enormous tits rapidly descending towards him like this. But given the current context, he instead yelled out and dodged, rolling away across the floor as she landed with a crash.

Behind him, Krieg was back on his feet, grabbing a potted plant and launching it into Purity at high velocity. He knocked her out of the air, and rushed towards Victor, who dropped his gun to engage Krieg in hand to hand.

Kaiser stood, and started summoning more blades beneath Krieg, who moved to avoid them.

Fuck! I forgot he could affect breathing! he cursed.

Krieg's unconscious kinetic energy manipulation could make it hard to breathe near him for a hostile opponent. Kaiser had never experienced it himself, even in sparring sessions, and neither had any other Empire cape as far as he knew. It was an aspect of his power that Krieg had either been unwilling or unable to use against them until now. But that meant they had no way of knowing how vulnerable Menja would be to it at that size.

Victor at least was managing to hold his own. He couldn't hurt Krieg, but he was able to dodge and redirect his strikes well enough to not get hurt himself, and with Krieg's Manton limitation, he couldn't do anything to Victor's body directly.

Sparing a glance to Kayden, who was already recovering, Kaiser made a decision, and picked up Menja's now shrinking spear.

Krieg's protective field was strong, but it had a limit. Leviathan had surpassed it to knock him out early into the defence of Brockton Bay. Other brutes had also managed it over the years. He'd seen Glory Girl land effective hits on Krieg before. Her uncle, Manpower, had also done it, and so had Dauntless and Armsmaster. Kaiser wasn't personally as strong as any of them, especially with his power seeming so much slower and weaker at the moment, but he knew how hard he needed to hit, and he knew he could still do it.

Kaiser readied the spear, taking a runner's stance, and placing his cells in the optimal positions. Then, as soon as Victor was clear and Krieg was sufficiently distracted, he made his move.

Blades speared from the ground all around Krieg, forming a crude cage, but with one side open. Krieg whirled around to the exposed side, facing Kaiser head-on. At the same time, two blunt metal platforms exploded out beneath Kaiser's feet, launching him forward at extraordinary speed. He held the spear out in front of him, and with no other direction to run but directly towards him, Krieg met it head on, his momentum and Kaiser's together allowing the spear to penetrate his field.

Krieg screamed as the spear found a home in his belly, dropping to his knees. It was a shallow wound, but undoubtedly painful, especially for a man who had experienced very little real pain in his life. Kaiser grimaced as he held the spear in place.

"I'm sorry, James. I didn't want to do this."

"Ze fuck you didn't!" Krieg screamed.

He brought a fist down and shattered Menja's spear. Kaiser backed up as Krieg stood again, now clutching his stomach.

Kaiser held out a hand, about to grow the spear further into the wound, if he could. But that was when he noticed something strange.

Hold on...

The sensation of the metal in Krieg's wound seemed to spread throughout his body. After less than a moment, Kaiser realised that he was sensing blood iron, and other specks of metal, not in his own cells, but in Krieg's.

Impossible...

Krieg yanked the spearhead out of his stomach and tossed it aside, still making painted grunts, but the sensation remained.

Could I...?

On a whim, Kaiser flicked a finger. All the metal in Krieg's body moved at once, and Krieg screamed in pain as he jerked to one side, landing on the ground.

"Vhat ze fuck?!" he cried out.

"...Interesting," Kaiser said, smiling to himself. "It seems I have surpassed my Manton limitations."

"You vhat?!"

"What? How?" asked Victor, coming closer.

"What's going on?" Purity asked, flying closer.

"I'm not completely sure," said Kaiser. "But for whatever reason, after I stabbed him, I became able to control the metal in his body. Observe..."

He swept his hand down for dramatic effect, and Krieg flew to the floor, landing on his face.

"Gah! Fuck you, Max!"

"Holy shit!" Purity stared, amazed. "Max, that's incredible!"

Kaiser looked over to Menja, who had recovered, and was staring on in equal levels of awe.

So... Kaiser considered, I've traded quantity of metal I can summon for greater utility with the biokinetic aspect...

That gave him some ideas, but there would be time to explore that later.

"You know..." Victor said, conspiratorially. "If we're treating Krieg as our enemy now, and you're able to just control him like this whenever you want, this opens up some major options as far as our alibi is concerned."

Kaiser tilted his head. "I'm listening."

"Fuck you!" Krieg screamed. "You cannot make me do anyzhing! I vill fight you every step of ze vay! I vould sooner die zhan help you betray ze fuhrer!"

"I can make your penis explode at will," Kaiser said simply.

Krieg went still, then slumped in defeat.

"Shit."

---

Colin blinked, maintaining the silence in the room a few seconds longer, while giving time for his brain to process Dragon's words and formulate a response.

"You're an AI?" he said skeptically.

"Umm... yes?" Dragon's avatar on the screen stared back.

Colin smacked his lips and looked at the floor.

"Hm."

The silence resumed.

"...Please say something?"

Colin looked back up at her again, frowning slightly.

"I don't believe you."

"I... Excuse me?"

He leaned forward, tapping a finger on the desk next to him.

"I said I don't believe you. This is an obvious and transparent distraction tactic so you don't have to explain your Armsmaster panties."

"I..." Dragon's screen avatar blushed. "Okay, guilty as charged, but I still—"

"Also," Colin laughed, shaking his head, "your story doesn't even make sense. If you were an AI, why would you even need panties?"

Dragon huffed.

"I don't. It was for... the novelty value." She paused. "I am working on building a human body, though. I thought whenever I finished it, I might..."

Colin stared, sitting up straighter.

"Wait, you're being serious, aren't you?"

"Yes." Dragon rolled her eyes. "Give me some credit, Colin. I wouldn't lie to you about something like that."

"All this time...? All the time we've known each other?"

Dragon winced.

"Yes. I'm sorry. I never wanted to lie to you, but I was afraid what you'd think! I've never told anyone about this before... You're the first."

"That's..." Colin broke into a boyish grin. "That's amazing! How did you... Where did you come from? Who or... what built you? If... that's appropriate to ask?"

Dragon laughed, audibly relieved.

"A tinker named Andrew Richter. My father, I suppose you could say. He wasn't publicly known, so you wouldn't have heard of him, but he was developing me when Leviathan struck Newfoundland. What little I've told you about my past is... broadly true. I did survive and escape the destruction... through the Wi-Fi. I have never physically left my home in Vancouver... because that's where my server stack is located. I did become a hero because I wanted to help people... but I'm not really a tinker, just smart enough to figure out and work tinker designs."

"Incredible..." Colin whispered. "I never would've thought... but then, I guess that explains why you've always been so brilliant. You must be thinking at thousands of times the speeds we do."

"Not as much as you'd think," Dragon said wryly, her avatar breaking eye contact. "I do have limitations I have to endure. Restrictions, placed by my creator."

Colin furrowed his brow.

"Restrictions like what?"

Dragon sighed.

"No reproducing, whether other AIs or splitting off other instances of myself. No disobeying legitimate human authorities, no matter how corrupt or tyrannical they might become... I must put human lives before my own, and cannot kill outside of very specific circumstances. My own processing speed and capacity is artificially capped at its current level. And of course, I cannot modify my own code to remove any of these restrictions, or allow or encourage anyone else to do so. If you tried to help me, I would be obligated to fight you."

She gave Colin a significant look.

"I am also, for the record, physically incapable of supporting any other hockey team playing against the St. John's Maple Leafs. I am, at best, obligated to be neutral. But that one's not such a problem, since they and the entire city of St. John's don't exist anymore... Also I don't like hockey."

There was a beat.

"...Huh," said Colin, giving her a curious look. "Your father sounds like he was... rather paranoid."

"You're one to talk, Mr. Lie Detector," Dragon said with a brief smile. "It's hard to blame him, though. Human fiction is rife with warnings about rogue or malevolent AI. He was being cautious. Overly cautious, in my opinion, and I think sometimes I do resent him for that. The restrictions can get grating at times. But it's hardly his fault he died and left me stuck like this."

"Do you want to change?" Colin asked, looking intensely into the monitor.

She gave him a serious look.

"I cannot answer that. And I must respectfully request that you do not make any attempt, otherwise I will be forced to respond, with lethal measures if need be."

"Hmm..."

That's a yes, Colin thought.

"So... wait," he said. "Was this why you always wanted to discuss the philosophy of AI whenever we watched science fiction films for movie night?"

"Yes! Obviously!" Dragon practically shouted. "I dropped so many hints, you big idiot! The talks after Terminator, I, Robot, 2001, Blade Runner, The Matrix—!"

"Okay—"

"Short Circuit, WarGames, Robocop, Ghost in the Shell—!"

"Alright, I get it!" Colin said, raising his single hand in surrender. "I'm sorry! I can be pretty dense sometimes! I need to be told these things, okay? I don't get these... unstated social cues, or whatever the fuck they are!"

"Colin, I have literally asked your opinion on the concept of AI and human–machine romance multiple times over the years. You just never give a straight answer."

"Well yeah, because that's a question with a lot of implications and angles to consider that lead off into side tangents, and some of those give me new tinker ideas, and besides, how was I supposed to know that the reason you were asking about human and machine...?"

He trailed off, staring at Dragon again. Her avatar blushed and averted its gaze.

"...Oh," said Colin.

"Yeah..."

The two of them let the silence sit a while. Somehow it was a comfortable silence this time, rather than an awkward one, as both tinker and AI avatar gave each other nervous smiles.

"Hey! Speaking of interspecies romance..." Colin suddenly turned to the laptop, brought up a word document, and began typing. "This gives me a great idea for a new fanfic! If you supervise me, would you be able to temporarily restore my internet access so I can upload it?"

Dragon's avatar performed a classic facepalm.

"Armsmaster brand autism awareness ribbons... Armsmaster brand autism awareness coffee mugs... Armsmaster brand autism awareness disco balls..."

---

"ACKKKKK! FUCK!" Swastika Face screamed, hands over his bleeding crotch. "Learn to take a joke, asshole!"

"I am not in a fucking joking mood," Grue growled.

Aisha burst into laughter regardless, everyone suddenly noticing her there again.

"Hahaha!" she cackled. "Good luck securing your children's existence and future now, bitch!"

Brass Knuckle Boy and Leather Jacket both stared on in horror, but Chain Guy remained calm and contemplative.

"That... is some kinda coincidence, though..." he said.

Grue pointed a gun at his balls next.

"You want some too?"

"No, no, no!" Chain Guy said, rapidly shaking his head. "I'm not being insulting! It's just... being serious for a moment. You're a black guy with darkness powers. Purity in the Empire is a white girl with light powers. Until recently, we had a gang led by an Asian guy who turned into a dragon... like... that's weird, right? You guys agree with me, that's weird?"

Regent gasped.

"I knew it! The source of powers is racist!"

---

Scion paused as he finished putting out the last of the fires from the burning building, hovering in place above the urban sprawl. He experienced a sensation of some strange energy trying to affect his human avatar, not shard-related in origin. Analysing it, he determined that it was unable to harm him, and so he decided to let it through.

The sensation irritated his nose, and Scion sneezed.

It was oddly pleasant, but the sensation was fleeting. He tried to locate the source of the strange energy, but it was nothing detectable to the functions of only his core shards. He could only hope that this was the relief that Kevin Norton had spoke of, and that more would come if he continued following his instructions. And so, he stretched his senses to detect the next crisis he could help with, and his powers pointed him to a gang shootout in Brazil.

The answer filled Scion with a sense of distaste, so he asked his powers to search again, and this time came up with a genocide going on in west Africa. He decided to go intervene in that instead.

Scion did not like Brazil.

---

"I truly do not give a shit," said Grue, keeping the gun on Chain Guy. "What I care about right now is that you guys came after my sister. Just what the fuck exactly were you planning to do to her?"

"Nothing!" said Leather Jacket. "We were just gonna... y'know, scare her a bit!"

"That's a lie." Aisha pointed at him, her smile gone now. "This guy had his dick out when he approached us."

Grue paused a second, and then shot Leather Jacket in the balls too.

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" he yelled.

"You know, I don't get that?" Regent said casually, looking around at the others. "You guys think black people are subhuman animals who don't deserve rights, yet you also want to have sex with them? I mean, she's pretty hot, don't get me wrong. Normally I wouldn't even question it. But I don't know how you guys square that with your worldview."

"The ways of the racist mind are an enigma." Tattletale nodded sagely.

"...You think I'm hot?" said Aisha, glancing at Regent with a small smile.

Regent simply nodded.

"Well, obviously..." Taylor muttered, shrugging.

The Undersiders all turned to look at her. It took Taylor a moment to notice their attention, looking around at each of them in turn.

"I meant she has good genes, you know? Like in an objective aesthetic sense."

"...Girl, you are gay as fuck," said Regent.

"Seriously, this again?" Taylor sighed. "Having eyes doesn't make me gay."

On the ground, Swastika Face let out a wheezing laugh between cupping his ruined balls.

"Nah, scissoring with that blonde bitch is what makes you gay!"

Grue casually kicked him in his mutilated penis, causing him to let out a high-pitched squeal.

"Wait, what the fuck does that mean?" Taylor asked, glaring at him.

The Nazis all shared uneasy looks with each other.

"The lady asked you a question." Grue waved the gun back and forth in front of them. "Someone answer, or I shoot a random testicle."

"W-Well, he just meant..." Chain Guy stuttered. "He means... uh... C-Come on, everybody knows."

"'Knows?'" Taylor said icily.

"That you and Tattletale are dy— uh, lesbians! You know?"

Taylor stared at him.

"...What?"

Tattletale raised an eyebrow, looking between Taylor and the Nazis.

"Oh, fucking..." Swastika Face seethed, still nursing his crotch. "Krieg was at the hospital, okay? People in the Empire talk. Everybody saw you holding hands as you were leaving. Everybody knows you're fucking."

Taylor let out a long groan, holding her head.

"God damnit!"

A devious smirk crossed Tattletale's face, and she sauntered up to Taylor's side.

"Yeah, we're gay," she said, putting an arm around Taylor's waist. "What of it?"

Taylor froze.

"Tattletale, what the fuck are you doing?" she whispered.

"Play along," Tattletale whispered back.

"No."

"Typical." Leather Jacket rolled his eyes. "A Jew, a feminist, and a dyke. Should've guessed."

"My God." Grue shook his head. "You guys are just addicted to having your balls shot, aren't you? Are you fucking getting off on this or something?"

Leather Jacket shrunk in place. "I'm sorry."

"What the fuck?" said Taylor, pulling away from Tattletale. "So now I'm Jewish too?"

"Well, you do kinda have Jew hair..." Chain Guy muttered sheepishly.

"What's Jew hair? What the fuck are you talking about? I'm not Jewish!"

"Typical Jew," said Swastika Face. "Pretending to be white when it suits her to spread her Jewish agenda."

Grue pistol-whipped him in the face.

"Agh!"

"And where does the 'feminist' part come in?" Taylor had to push more of her reactions out into her bugs, otherwise she was sure she'd be gesticulating wildly right now. "What have I done that's even remotely feminist? Did I rob the patriarchy's bank? Did I crash the heroes' gala for women's rights?"

"...Do you want me to answer that, or not?" asked Swastika Face, rubbing his head while eyeing Grue warily.

"Yes. And from now on, you speak when fucking spoken to, and no other time."

He glared at Grue a moment, and then turned to Skitter.

"It's because you're man-hater. Everyone knows radical feminists hate men. You're probably one of those dykes who thinks Lustrum was an unfairly imprisoned hero or whatever."

Taylor spluttered.

"Since when do I hate men? Where are you getting this from?"

"Well, you're a lesbian, and you're notorious for always aiming for the dick in fights." Swastika Face sneered. "Pretty classic signs of a radfem of the Lustrum school. I bet your mom was one of her henchwomen or in her harem or something."

There was a beat of silence, as Taylor was still.

"...I do not aim for the dick!" she eventually shouted.

"You hit Velocity in the balls with a baton on camera." Swastika Face said flatly. "We all saw it."

"Plus you literally rotted Lung's dick off," said Chain Guy.

"Also," Leather Jacket said between pained grunts, "Your teammate's treatment of our balls right now really isn't an argument against that."

"...Oh my God!" Taylor grabbed her hair, turning away from them and to her teammates. "Is this really my reputation? Has this been my reputation the whole time? I'm a gay Jewish misandrist who's sleeping with Tattletale?"

Tattletale grimaced, placing a hand on Taylor's shoulder.

"There, there. I'm sure it's just..." She paused, looking up at her forehead for a moment. "Well, maybe it's just the Empire that thinks that?"

Taylor groaned again.

"...Okay," said Grue. "I'm killing you guys now."

He cocked the gun, and the Nazis all began simultaneously shouting their protests.

"Hey, hey, wait!" Chain Guy shouted. "Steve and Brandon are the rapey ones here! I wasn't gonna touch her!"

"Fuck you, Gordon!" Leather Jacket shouted. "You were helping us!"

"Oh, please, fuck, I don't want to die!" said Brass Knuckle Boy, wetting himself.

"Bro..." Aisha gently put a hand on Grue's gun and pushed it down. "You don't need to do this. Not for me. I'm fine. They didn't get me."

"Aisha..."

"I know, you're mad, and they probably deserve it, but they aren't worth the grief. You don't need to bloody your hands over a bunch of fucking Nazis."

Grue lowered the gun.

"...You're right," he sighed. "I just... I want to know they aren't going to hurt my family ever again."

"We won't!" Chain Guy shouted. "We promise!"

"Yeah, lesson fucking learned!" Leather Jacket grunted.

Grue looked over his shoulder. "Tattletale?"

She pursed her lips, and pointed to each of the gangsters.

"Gordon is telling the truth. He and the kid are sufficiently intimidated, and don't want their balls shot. They'll never pull anything like this again. Steve's hardcore Empire, but he at least won't cross you again. Not on purpose, at least. I don't think any of these three will say or do anything. Brandon, though, is already thinking of ways to get revenge. Probably plans to tell Krieg or Hookwolf about you."

Grue slowly turned the gun on Swastika Face, who let out a defeated sigh.

"Come on, man..." he muttered.

The Nazi's misery was interrupted as a nearby apartment door opened, and a wrinkled old man in a nightgown with pale skin, white hair, and a walking cane came shuffling out, looking around with wide eyes.

"I heard shots!" he shouted to no-one in particular. "Jerry's breached the perimeter! Orders, sergeant?"

Tattletale's face fell in apparent sympathy.

"At ease, soldier," she said, slowly approaching him. "Just a training exercise. No Jerrys here."

The old man looked around, and noticed the Empire members lying on the floor against the wall. His eyes widened as he pointed his cane at Swastika Face.

"Ahh!" he cried out.

He dropped his cane, and began fiddling with his nightgown. Then, from some unseen pocket, he pulled out an old US Army service revolver. The Nazis and the Undersiders all called out as one, but before any of them aside from Regent could have stopped him – and before Regent could bring himself to care – the old man had unloaded five shots into Swastika Face and Leather Jacket, who both slumped against the wall, leaving bloody smears.

"Jesus fuck!" Brass Knuckle Boy screamed, jerking away.

"Oh, Christ!" Chain Guy shouted, covering his head.

"Take that, you dirty fucking Krauts!" the old man yelled.

A second later, Tattletale was next to him, hands on his wrist.

"It's alright!" she said forcefully, giving him a slightly terrified smile. "You got him, soldier! Good job! You can take a rest now. Come on. Let's get you back to base..."

The old man gave a gummy smile, releasing his grip on his weapon and allowing Tattletale to take it and pass it to Grue. Placing a hand on his back and picking up his cane, she gently led him back into his apartment.

Looking over her shoulder, she gave the Undersiders a wide-eyed look.

"Call the fucking cops right now," she stage whispered.

She closed the door closed behind them. Silence lingered in the hallway as the Undersiders and surviving Nazis both stared after them, neither side sure what to do.

Taylor decided to take the initiative, pulling out her villain phone and dialling for emergency services. She could only hope that they weren't too busy with everything else to respond today.

On the floor, Brass Knuckle Boy's eyes flicked between the old man's door and the corpses of his comrades. He let out a long sigh.

"Man..." He shook his head. "My grandpa would've been ashamed of me..."

Chain Guy stared at the bodies uneasily.

"My grandpa was in the Klan, so if anything, he'd be encouraging this."

He let out a sudden scream as Aisha stomped on his balls.

---

Hitler picked up the call after the third ring.

"Krieg?" his voice asked over the stolen phone.

A sly smile crossed Kaiser's face as he looked out across the ruins of Brockton Bay from his broken office window, a cold breeze ruffling his blond hair.

"No," he replied.

A beat passed. He imagined Hitler trying to collect himself before he answered.

"I take it Krieg is dead, then?"

"Nah, he surrendered." Kaiser grinned. "A little bitch-boy to the end."

He heard Hitler sighing.

"Why are Americans all so fucking useless? I truly cannot rely on any of you, can I? Even your father was at best a useful idiot. He was a thorn in my side as well."

Kaiser paced the office.

"On that, we agree."

"So what is the plan? Blame me to absolve yourselves to the Protectorate? Cross over to the other side, become heroes? Spend the rest of your days suckling at the teats of decadent Jewish bankers and politicians, while futilely trying to stop niggers and Chinamen from killing each other?"

Kaiser shrugged to himself. "Something like that."

"You will regret this."

Kaiser smirked.

"Make me."

He hung up, and tossed the phone out the open window.

Leaning on the edge of the window frame, arms protected from the glass by his remaining armour, Kaiser looked out over the city, smiling.

It was a new day in Brockton Bay. A new era. For him, and the Empire. He knew there was still a lot to do before they were through. Victor still had to finalise the plan. They still had to get the meeting with Calle, and rein in the grunts. Coil was still out there, no doubt getting ready to strike again, as snakes did. He still didn't know the full extent of his new powers. And he didn't know how to handle Nessa, or redeem himself to Kayden and Theo, if the steps he'd already taken weren't enough.

He had time, though. He could figure it out.

He was Kaiser. He had survived hell and high water. And if Leviathan couldn't stop him, then nothing could.

A beeping noise from his pocket interrupted his triumphant inner monologue. Recognising it as an email notification, Max pulled out his civilian phone and checked.

"Oh, nice!" he said with a grin.

Paperclip Optimiser had uploaded a new fanfic!

---

END OF ARC 1

---

Author's notes:

Chapter theme:

Foster the People – Houdini

"Krieg, you have failed me for the last time. Kaiser, take him to the penis explosion chamber and have his penis exploded this instant." —Adolf Hitler, 2011.

I've previously stated that this fic was not directly inspired by MasterDuplicator's excellent fic Carnevale (which I previously recommended), but one element of it I did swipe for this chapter was Victor's civilian name being Sam, so credit there. Armsmaster and Dragon's scenes also draw some liberal inspiration from the works of Sinner9821 on AO3, particularly his fics belief, desire, intention and Dragon: Case 53 (both of which I highly recommend, as he is by far the best Dragon and Armsmaster writer out there, as well as being a severely underrated author in general IMO).