0.13


Canberra


"Shit!" Taylor snapped back into reality, Strider's power causing a sudden, jarring transition of senses. "Fuck!" Holding her head between her hands, she bent double and vomited, Nautile leaning over to pull her hair back.

"Thinker?"

Their transportation asked, sounding sympathetic.

"Y-yeah. I think."

He at least chuckled as Taylor drew moisture out of the air to clean her mouth.

"Happens sometimes. Sorry about that." Strider reached out a hand and squeezed her shoulder. "I'm sorry kids like you have to come, but thank you."

And just like that, he was gone. There was a crack-boom of suddenly displaced air and warping space and the Mover was, well, moving. There were more people to gather up and his diversion to Newfoundland cost time. Time that could cost lives. His expression of thanks was all he could spare.

Taylor still hated his power.

"Are you ok?"

Nautile, wearing a slimmed down version of his diving suit, stepped back as if his hands had been burned.

"I'm fine." She spat, rinsed her mouth again, and spat one more time for good measure. "Magic water powers means I can actually get the taste out of my mouth."

Other than a slight burning feeling from the stomach acid, it was almost like she hadn't even been sick.

"Are you going to be able to stick around?"

"Of course. I think it was the multiple, sudden jumps. What, five of them in total? In about twenty seconds? It was jarring getting so much information from different points one after the other. Worst vertigo in the world."

"I understand." Opening a small container on his utility belt, the Tinker took out small, wafer like pieces of bread. "Eat these. They'll help settle your stomach. And I think we should probably go find out what's up."

Letting Pers hop out, the Tinker gestured towards the rally point where more and more people were already starting to arrive and what looked like a large contingent of Australian and Commonwealth capes were mustering under the command of Myrrdin of all people.

"Fear not, ye mighty, valiant few, for we have come to join our strength!" He was hamming it up, while a pair of men dressed in spade costumes visibly chewed out a group of teenagers, even younger than Taylor, and kept the rest of the assembled parahumans from noticing the confrontation. "Even now more of our brothers and sisters rush to our side, ready to join their powers to our own and drive back the threat to this fair city!"

Normally, Taylor might have considered it… rude? Condescending? Disrespectful and patronizing, perhaps, for someone to act like he currently was. But after seeing Newfoundland, after knowing what was at stake, well, she couldn't help but appreciate it. The speech and the semi-sweet honey flavored crackers that did, in fact, calm her stomach down.

"He's keeping us distracted." Putting her head in her hands, she rubbed at her cheeks for a moment and turned to her companion. "What are you up for? Do you want to go at this together, how-" she gestured at the gathering mass of parahumans. "Does all this usually work?"

A shrug.

"Dunno. I work search and rescue or recovery, usually. I'm not… I don't like fighting. Dragon and Narwal and Stonewall are all a lot braver than I am."

Taylor punched the blonde in the shoulder.

"Don't put yourself down." She snapped. "You've been helping as much as you can since you've gotten your powers." Maybe it was because he touched a nerve, maybe it was because she was getting more and more indignant the more and more she thought about what was about to happen, about what was happening right now. "You're not a coward, you're not pathetic, you're not on your own. So, how do you wanna do this?"

Taken aback, the blonde Tinker finally managed a chuckle, tugging on the seals around his helmet.

"I think we need to sign up, first, and get our communication bands. Looks like the PRT are over there." Pointing out a military style tent with a small group in front of it, Nautille started walking over. "But after that I'll probably join up with the support staff. I only had time to prepare a few things and they won't be much good fighting off… her."

"Understood. Well, stay safe, no matter what, ok?"

"You too."

There was a moment of awkwardness. Of slight confusion of how to break up their goodbye. But both of the teenagers were saved from having to make the first move when a large, nearly naked woman with glowing force fields walked over.

"Nautile! What are you doing here?"

"What I can. Ah, Narwhal, this is…."

"Fontaine." Taylor supplied.

"Fontaine, this is Narwhal. She's kinda my boss."

The Canadian cape's eyes narrowed for a moment.

"Fontaine, Fontaine, ah! The hydrokinetic from Brockton Bay that took out Lung?"

She nodded. Forced herself not to stare at the exhibitionist any more than was possible. Considering the circumstances, doing anything other than sneaking the barest of glances at the woman's frankly massive chest would be beyond rude.

"Tossed him out of the city, yeah."

"Tossed, not defeated?"

"I see. To be blunt, because we don't have much time and because hydrokinetics are almost exclusively weak, where do you sit?"

For a moment she hesitated, considered what she should, if she should try to hedge her bets, hold anything back. And then she remembered that endless line of cars, rusted and overgrown, sunken with the island their once drivers had called home.

"Shaker ten. Maybe with a plus."

The other Shaker's eyes went wide.

"Maybe?"

"My range is probably about all of Australia right now. Fine control falls off with distance, effective range is the city. And then some. Also, I am aware of water I can control to at least a degree."

She just never had to push herself that far.

Well, she'd tried it once but her powers hadn't let her go through with it. But it had been a couple weeks since then and Taylor wondered just how far she could really go if Focalors cooperated.

"I see." There was a moment of silence as the seven foot tall woman considered what she'd just been told. "And how much can you control at once?"

Taylor just kept eye contact.

"Oh."

A nod this time.

"Yeah."

"Shaker ten plus, then. Or Blaster. Or Trump, because Trumps usually get special power briefings and ratings are more about that than sheer scale. But that's…. That's for later." Narwhal steeled herself. "For now, Fontaine, thank you for coming here. I think you need to speak to Eidolon, though. For two reasons."

One which she believed might be the large digital clock that someone had put together in the center of the gathering.

[8:41]

8 minutes and 41 seconds.

"Is that…?"

"Her ETA. It differs. Sometimes she'll give people time to crowd together and put up a fight, other times she'll just arrive and make everyone scramble around. Others she'll just make us wait past the time. Ziz likes making a game out of it, playing with expectations like that." Narwhal confirmed.

Taylor grimaced.

That had to be nerve wracking.

"Where are they?" She looked around but couldn't find the opaque mask often associated with her country's strongest cape. Nor could she see the rest of the Triumvirate amidst the masses of parahumans moving around the makeshift camp.

"We're letting Guild officials coordinate with the local hero teams to organize things. They know their capes better than we do, and we have the knowhow to coordinate with them. It's better than putting someone unfamiliar in charge and expecting all these people to listen to a total stranger."

That made sense.

You were more likely to be comfortable with someone you knew in a crisis situation. While the big shots were there to reassure everyone that they did have the firepower and security.

Only there was no security with an Endbringer, least of all the Simurgh.

"So, where do I go?"

The older woman looked over her shoulder.

"There's a larger tent over there, tell the troopers out front that I let you in. Sorry about the short chat, but I really need to get everything ready."

Taylor smiled awkwardly.

"That's fine, thank you for the help."

Narwhal nodded.

"Nautile?"

The helmeted boy nearly jumped off the ground.

"Y-Yes?"

"You're with me, say goodbye to your friend and stash your equipment, I'll see about hooking you up with-" Whatever else might be said was lost when the clock dropped down by another minute, perhaps signaling an adjustment in Ziz's approach. "To Hell with it. Follow me. Fontaine, good luck."

And that was that.

Taylor, and Focalors, she supposed, were simply standing in a grassy field outside of a town whose name she did not know, waiting for an enemy that had never been slain, and without much of a true plan.

"I guess I should go check in, then."

So she did.

It was strange to say that the squelching of her mom's riding boots in the mud was comforting.

But the normalcy of the sound brought back memories from a long, long time ago. And that made her think about what her mom would have thought about the situation. Setting aside the incredible danger, of course. So that knowledge, that absolute surety that both of her parents would be proud of her… settled her nerves.

Let her hold her chin up as she stepped closer towards the command tent and simply nodded at the two PRT troopers.

Both of them turned their reflective, mirrored helmets to her, but neither so much as asked who she was. Perhaps they'd seen her speaking with Narwhal, perhaps they simply didn't care, it wasn't like she could do anything worse than Ziz after all, but the effect was the same.

Taylor stepped into the planning tent and took in the half a dozen parahumans inside. Legend and Eidolon were instantly recognizable, along with two other capes she thought she knew as being, vaguely, British. Probably. The last two were completely unknown and Taylor, somewhat awkward, simply dipped her head in greeting.

"Who are you?" One of the two capes she didn't recognize at all growled out. "Is she another one of you lot?"

He turned to face Legend, who simply shrugged.

"I believe that she can speak for herself."

And just like that, all of them turned to face her, and, before her nerves could swell, Taylor forced herself to speak clearly and bluntly.

"Fontaine, American, Hydrokinetic, Shaker ten, maybe on Leviathan's scale. I… I want to help!"

A nod from the man.

"Wabbajack-" he pointed at the person standing next to him. "Drop Bear. King of Spades, Queen of Hearts. I take it you know the Americans?"

"I do. Hey, uh, Legend. Eidolon. N-nice to meet everyone."

There was a snort, though not a cruel one, and the Trump of Trumps simply shook his head.

"So, macrohydrokinetic? What's your fine control like."

"Range dependent, sir."

"Better in close?"

"Yes sir."

"How precise?"

"I… do you want a demonstration or…?"

"Best guess."

"Well, I've been cleaning up the bay. Things like finding and carrying away bits of metal, plastic or wood isn't that hard. I also can't sense water droplets individually so precision isn't a problem. I just haven't had much practice with small precise tasks. Most of what I do is too large scale…"

Trailing off, not sure what else to say, she did flinch when the inevitable came up.

"Like when you killed Oni Lee, after declaring yourself a villain?"

Four of the other five capes turned to stare at her, Wabbajack in particular becoming hard eyed.

"That… was an accident, sir."

Her voice was soft, but her spine was strong.

'You're doing well, dear flower, now blossom.'

Comfort, simple affirmation came through their connection. Taylor thanked Focalors wordlessly as she refused to wilt under Eidolon's gaze. She had already spent days moping and angsting about it, even if she didn't like what happened, that didn't mean she was letting someone hold it over her head when it was her, the city, and an explosive maniac.

"What I want to know is if you can be trusted to have our backs. Power of your kind is welcome, but it's just as much of an issue if it gets turned against us."
Ultimately, that was what the fighting the Simurgh amounted to. Keeping your head, and not be turned against someone else because that monster liked playing mind games.

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't sure I could." She held Eidolon's gaze, unwilling to back down. As much as she respected him and the other heroes for all they were doing, she was here because there was something to be done. Maybe something only she could do.

And she wasn't gonna let fear get in the way of it.

'I wouldn't worry about your mind being in any danger.'

That's right.

She did have an ace in the hole that nobody else knew about. Even if the irony of already having a voice in her head would probably get her kicked out of the tent, it was better to keep quiet about it.

"We'll see about that. Until then, grab one of the maps near the back and sit down. Time's ticking, we should probably finish here and let everyone outside know what the plan is before the Endbringer arrives." The masked man gestured vaguely to another clock that had been set up far back of the tent.

[3:40]

Taylor swallowed dryly, following through as the meeting continued on as she took her seat.

"So… uhh… what exactly is the plan? I just kinda got here."

"It's simple." Drop Bear took over, their armored helmet shifting as they spoke, their voice rendered mechanical by a vocalizer. "Local authorities have already begun co-ordinating evacuations. Support capes are on standby to help move as many people east and west as possible. Shelters are in place over in Tidbinbilla, air lifted by the army, and they've got a staging ground there. Bugendore is are other destination for refugees, with workers trying to clear routes to Yass."

Wabbajack interjected.

"The Twenty Three got opened up as of two minutes ago. A local Brute just threw the car wreck out of the way and a blaster managed to clear any debris."

"So all directions are open, then?"

Legend received a nod.

"As can be. Police have orders to shoot to kill on anyone who tries to get violent. Not many of them can handle it, so the few army units are handling the rough stuff."

Taylor flinched, but forced herself to remain silent.

"What about the city?" Eidolon gave Dropbear a moment to process, his tone sympathetic. "The Tinkers there are still planning on staying?"

"What else is the bitch going to target?"

"I see. They're ready for the costs?"

"As much as they can be."

"Good. I hope they succeed."

"Uh, sorry, but what Tinkers and what are they doing?"

Wabbajack answered Taylor's question and spoke quickly and clearly.

"A Tinker collective working on a number of projects. Right now about half the staff are remaining behind, working on what might be a fusion lance capable of killing an Endbringer. We hope."

Having no response, Taylor simply nodded, not willing to speak further when the British capes hadn't spoken at all.

"All right then. There are evacuation plans. We know what to do. And that means play keep away as long as we can, clear debris that tries to block evacuation routes, and blow up whatever it is she tries to put together."

It sounded so simple the way Eidolon spoke, but none of the other adults had much of an enthusiastic response.

She simply nodded, waiting, watching, and was a bit surprised when Legend of all people walked over to her.

"Fontaine, before we go into this fight, there's something you should know about Ziz battles in particular."

Holding up a bulky mechanical armband, the man seemed almost regretful.


"Fontaine is here."

Those three words brought Robin up short.

Fingers stopped in place, slipping fully into awareness of the now, the Mover stopped lacing up his custom made running boots and focused on actually processing what he'd just been told. And not on the fact he ended up pinching his finger in one of the clamps hard enough to make it bleed.

Not that he cared that much, instead turning his eyes to Colin.

"She what?"

"I saw her at the main tent. The Triumvirate was debriefing all team leaders, passing down the plan for today. Saw her standing by the Guild personnel. It was really her."

Velocity frowned.

Part of him had been relieved that when the sirens sounded and the call for volunteers came, that the young Shaker would choose to stay at home. As powerful as she was, as reassuring as it might have been to have that kind of heavy hitter on their side, Robin couldn't shake off the thought that they shouldn't bring a kid to an Endbringer fight.

Even if it was ultimately their choice.
"I saw her earlier. She was walking around the place with one of the kids from the Guild."
Their commander rounded on an unperturbed Assault with a silent stare.

"The Guild? Are you certain?" Robin wasn't in the mood for pissing contests.
"Yeah, looked like it to me. It was that one guy who does rescue operations, the one we talked about tapping for underwater tech? Nautilus or something like that?"

Pursing his lips, Armsmaster shook his head.

"Dragon would have mentioned it, if she knew."
"Yeah, well, guess we know where Fontaine was when the alarms went off. Guess we lucked out and she just happened to be near someone who tapped her for help."

Right, luck.

Velocity still had conflicted feelings about it. He didn't know the girl at all, only talked with her whenever she was letting them know about whatever scheme or plot she was going through. It hadn't been more than a week, week and change at the most, and yet, here he was, wanting to find her and speak with her.

And for what? To apologize?

A vague feeling of responsibility to his fellows was something Velocity was familiar with. Military training and the discipline with that cemented ties to his comrades meant he had been able to point at others and say "I want to protect you", just as they would protect him. And later on transferring to the Protectorate didn't change that much. Even if he disliked restrictions, his intentions were still to help others, to protect them.

Tuning out the rest of the Brockton Bay contingent, that being Armsmaster, Assault, Battery, and Dauntless, Robin needed to just think. Because now was not the time to be having doubts. In fact, an Endbringer fight was the worst possible moment to start thinking about life choices.

But it was… personal, then. He helped people because they needed it and he knew them. There wasn't an attachment to a specific ideal.

"Well, ain't you looking a bit dour?"

Robin frowned, looking over his shoulder in annoyance at the interruption. Now, of all places, was not the time to get people jumpy either.

"Frostbite."

"Velocity." He repeated, upbeat.

"You came here? Didn't see you when we left."

The other cape waved him off, taking a seat on the crate across from his as the Brockton Bay capes all but huddled together. Not that many had come, the vast majority of the group having been told to stand by in case someone tried something stupid.

'Except for the Empire idiots. Why the Hell Hookwolf is here, I do not want to know.'

All in all, there might have been half a dozen of them, a couple from New Wave, too, and the man sitting across from Robin.

"I came in with the second group. Had to get a few affairs in order before jumping into this."

Robin grimaced.

"That's a terrible choice of words."

"But not inaccurate. Don't tell me you Protectorate lot don't have contract clauses and folks to watch out for your SOs if something goes wrong. Folks like me don't have that kind of security."

Oh, not this old argument again.

"You could if you joined up."

"Not my style. I like being able to pick working hours and which heads I get to knock. That's a pretty nifty benefit."

The man wore what looked like a detective novel's get up… if it were blended with futuristic armor. Thick furred collar, an armored vest, gauntlets that emanated a soft blue light alongside a chilling cold that had Robin rubbing his hands to warm up on reflex.

Frostbite was some sort of cryokinetic, as far as he could remember.

He could freeze things solid at a touch, and the ice he created could be shaped into all sorts of objects for all sorts of purposes. As far as he knew, the man could even regulate how cold the ice was, or how thick. But it still required him to be able to physically touch objects or surfaces.

In a way that made him a mixture of Striker and Shaker.

He'd only seen the man fight a couple times, but from what he remembered the man really liked hitting people with his fists.

"So what brings you over here? Can't say I have seen you in one of these before."

He got a shrug in response.

"I dunno, call it a change of heart. Things back home seem to have taken a turn for the better since the big dragon and his merry band got run out, so I didn't feel like standing guard while something big like this was going on."

"ABB's just one out of three."

Both men ignored the growl from the Empire cape.

"Yeah, but everyone's been playing nice for now. Your folks can handle a gaggle of crazies, and ain't there no way the Empire is doing anything right now. They don't have the balls to do anything while the little lady is running the show."

Again with Fontaine.

"And you're fine with that? Relying on a kid like that?"

"Fine with it? No, not really. Am I thankful though? Sure am. The kiddo saved my life a couple weeks ago, so how can I not be?"

That was the first he was hearing of that one.

"She did?"

"Yeah, nearly gave everyone a heart attack doing it, but if she hadn't tossed that oversized gecko into the ocean then my ass would have been toast." The tent grew quiet, everyone almost visibly eavesdropping. "Goes to show you can't trust every tip you get, even when it's from a good source. I ended up running straight into the dragon while looking to bust a drug deal. Guy tried to kill me, I fought back, stuff got messy and I ran for the hills. Still surprised I didn't drown or break something when she showed up."

It actually explained a lot.

Lung's uncharacteristic anger, rampaging through the docks. It was because someone goaded him, or, rather, he got pissed someone ruined one of his deals and decided to take it out on the city.

And then they were saved.

"Have you talked to her yet?"

"Not really? I had to take a bit off to recover after that fiasco, and then next thing I knew she made mincemeat out of Oni Lee. It wouldn't be funny if it weren't so ironic."

"Really?" This was starting to hit a little bit too close to home for his taste.

"Yeah, can you imagine it? There I was, big bad Frostbite, the guy who spent his whole ass career as a cape trying to take down crime. And not only does he nearly bite the bullet before he can get something worthwhile done, he gets saved by a teenager who then goes on to do everything he wanted to and more in a fraction of the time. It would be hilarious if it wasn't so depressing."

Velocity shook his head.

"No, it's the luck of the draw. Powers are bullshit."

"Nah." The cryokinetic disagreed instantly. "Thing is, I could have been smarter. Why beat up the street level assholes, when I could have been freezing whole shipments. Ruin the supply. Leave vehicles useless. Foul ammunition and weapons by rapidly turning them so cold they warp or burst. But I didn't."

"Because that would have required targeted information."

"Information we both know is easy enough to get if you have eyes or ears."

"Yeah, someone on the inside. And who goes to the cops when a dragon might bite you in half or cook you alive for doing so?"

"The sort of people who are greedy enough or cowardly enough to talk when it's either money or their ass on the line. At least in the moment."

Robin considered pointing out that beating people up for information wasn't exactly reliable, but thought better of addressing that particular elephant.

"So you're saying you were, what, treating the symptom, not the disease?"

"More or less. Symptoms are easier. Hell of a lot more visible, too."

"But I still don't understand what you're arguing for, specifically, unless you're saying parahumans need to escalate in general?"

"No, no. We color inside the lines. But we also do what we can. Don't worry about the job, do what's right. Simple as."

"Simple as?"

"Yup."

"Easy for you to say. What happens when the guy you beat up files a complaint? What happens when budget overruns get so bad they need to slash half your department's spending?"

Frostbite simply smiled.

"And that is why I don't work for the PRT. You guys look at the big picture, see how fucked things are, and forget that we can do the little things. Course, I'm not much better. Just gonna try to be from now on out."

"I suppose… I understand. Even if I don't agree on the particulars."

On a professional and a personal level, Robin had exactly zero interest in, say, using his super speed to start trawling through suspect's houses, breaking in and out before anyone could react, or start simply terrorizing criminals into compliance by curb stomping anyone who got out of line. Setting aside the nightmare that would turn into on a bureaucratic level, it would also probably just see people shoot at him whenever they saw him.

"What about-"

Three sharp siren blasts let everyone know it was time, the armbands would be ready and plans were finalized and any further conversation would have to wait.

[1:00]

[0:59]

Taking a deep breath, the mover took one last look over his equipment, making sure everything was fixed where it should as the parahumans, heroes and villains alike, started grouping together and various shapes started rising high above them, closer to the skies of Canberra.

There, in the distance, he thought he could see it.

The Third Endbringer.

Ziz.

The Hopekiller.

There were so many other names, so many thoughts flickering through his mind as he saw that familiar, terrifying shape draw closer and closer to them. It was hard to make out her shape, she'd positioned herself against the sun, maybe to make it that little bit harder to see, or maybe just to inconvenience them right from the start.

And then a lake he hadn't even realized was in the city started to float.
It wasn't an immediate thing.

One moment they were under the glare of the sun, and then in the next a massive, amorphous shadow appeared as hundreds of thousands of liters of water rose like a wave over the group, curling and rippling through the air as the mass split into equally massive tendrils.

An appreciative, if low, whistle from the cryokinetic a couple feet from him echoed in Robin's ears.

"Guess we're starting off with the big guns."
Looking closer, Robin could see her, could see Fontaine, arms raised, face concealed beneath the opera mask set in a rictus of focus as she finished splitting the lake into massive tendrils as her coattails flared to life with a strange blue light, all before the lake reached out and pounced like a serpent.

[0:00]

The Battle of Canberra had officially started.