A/N: Warning, this is unedited, not very good, and might not be everyone's style and that's fine. Enjoy and more at the bottom.


In the 1980s, the first, and strongest, parahuman came to be known as Scion and soon more individuals came to be with similar abilities.

Some could fly, others could control the four wings or the very earth they stand on. Some were of brilliant mind, almost unnaturally so, while others seem to peer into the very folds of reality to create and make things that tell physics to fuck themselves. Nothing seemed to be far from their ability as such parahumans, or Capes, popped up.

But power corrupts, and so comes the advent of villains and heroes, people with abilities beyond humanity wrecking the block for no reason other than 'because they can'. Gangs were created, lines were drawn and so began the era of the Parahumans.

But of course even in darkness, light shines. The PRT, the Protectorate and heroes stood to combat the darkness. Yet even then the heroes struggled.

That's where the Citywide Operating System, created by Blume, comes in, or ctos. Working in tandem with the PRT and the Protectorate, crimes are filtered and observed, allowing for hard-working Americans to be able to work, commute and generally go through life without worrying for a thing.

Big Brother cares. He is watching.

He-he-he watch-i-i-ing.

I'm Watching You_

Signed,_

Arcane_

*ERROR*

"One."

Crack.

"Ahhhh! You fucking-ah!."

The man squirms like a worm as he cradles his hand, a finger broken by yours truly after I told him he had until three to answer my question.

I got close, his back hitting the bench of the locker room we were in, a few hours before I had to get back to my mom. We are moving today after all and she thinks I'm giving a final farewell to my friends. Well, I did but that's irrelevant to what led to me putting on a bandanna, gloves, boots, and a hoodie to protect my identity along with using what I knew about criminal psychology from both lives to interrogate this man during the last inning of a baseball game against Brockton Bay.

Admittedly, I'm getting tired of this. It's shown as my shoulders are slumped as I kick away a bat I used to remind the man what happens when he tries to hit a teenager.

The rest of the room is in a similar situation, blood painting the floor and odds and end thrown around as if they were used as torture devices. I ignore the tugs from my arm as I roll it with a sigh, slamming my foot beside his head as he whimpers. "Now Marc, I'm not here for anything, re-."

"Fucking liar, the Emp-agh!" he interrupts me but I return the favor, and deliver a punch to his face.

"That's right," I mumble as he groans, spitting out blood as I bring out my phone, "Mr. Salazar, I don't believe that name would be very…obvious as to what I want."

A few taps later, I begin talking, "Matthews, Anthony, thirty-four, a gardener among many things. Hm." I hum in surprise, as if I'm barely reading this as his already pale face continues to lose color. "Says here you died in a shootout a few months ago, hell it says here it was a year on the dot."

I hold his gaze as I tap the screen again, "Or is Paul better? A freelance journalist last seen around Texas before 'disappearing' under mysterious circumstances that led to a shut-and-close case supposedly."

At this point he was hyperventilating as he looked around, almost as if he was expecting someone to jump out. "Heyhey. Hey." I spoke gently, forcing his face to look me in the eye as I gave him the gentlest look I could muster. "No one's coming for you. So make this easier and just tell me," I tap the phone once more as I show him a picture that caused him to go ashen, "what's this?"

It was a stylized 'C'. It was also a staple among a type of Cape known as Case 53s.

Then he became hysterical, "No. Nononono. You've gotta walk away kid, you've gott-."

I lowered my mask and his face seemed to come to a realization as he froze in shock, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to say something.

In the silence, I tapped my phone once more as an audio file began to play.

"Time for a relocation," a voice spoke, clearly running through a voice changer as he scampered, "your new targets are as follows, Damian Bernan and Aiden Cruz."

"Targets?" Marc's voice spoke in confusion, the creaking of an office chair clear before stopping. "I know I was a Fixer before this whole thing but even I get a bad taste in my mouth going after kids."

"Good, because that's not the type of target I'm talking about. Offer it to Damian first, then wait for a bit before offering it to the other." The voice spoke with a detachment to it that had Mark scampering as his voice spoke up next.

"Alright. This should be easy." The file ended there but a second tap brought his voice again. "They're kids, these are powers, why shouldn't this go smoothly?"

"Please, stop." Marc begged as I grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the locker, my forearm against his throat as I thumb the holster on my hip as I prepared.

"Didn't go as smoothly as you thought huh?" I asked, as he choked. I added more pressure until his windpipe was in danger of breaking. "Who was behind the phone?" I hissed. "I need names, start spilling!"

I held him there, glaring as he choked before shoving him aside as he coughed. I got closer and whispered, "Names."

"J-Just let it go! This isn't something some kid can get himself into. You haven't even triggered yet, you're nothing to them!" He yelled, tears falling as he glares at me.

"And you are?" I ask, knocking the wind out of his sails. "Wanna test that out?"

I unholster the Px4 pistol and aim it at him as I raise the mask on my own face, my eyes going cold as he curls up, whimpering as I place my finger on the trigger.

Click

That's not supposed to happen.

Confused, Marc looks up from his curled up position after screaming in terror.

I grit my teeth and holster the gun while turning, my teeth grinding as I glare at the cameras, "How's your memory now?"

Fucking bitch. Can't even do the Rush Hour thing since I don't have an extra mag.

I hear his palm hit the floor as he reaches for a bat and I sigh. Taking a second to wonder if I should knock him out and fake a crime, kill him, or kidnap him. I pull the trigger again, the click interrupting the peace of the lockers as Marc flinches and I extend my collapsible baton.

Time seems to slow down as my mind calms. I decide on a course of action as I duck the swing and swing at the back of his knee before grabbing his arm and jabbing the tip of the baton upwards into his throat as he doubles over, choking before raising my baton and hitting it against the back of his head as he falls unconscious.

I stare at the body and tighten my grip on my pistol before exhaling, calming down as I jam the pistol back into the holster on the right side of my hip, hidden by the baggy hoodie, before collapsing the baton and putting that in its own holster. "Fucker." I hiss under my breath as I give value to his life and weigh the options.

"I should cripple him." I muttered out loud. It'd stick the most if I did.

Idly, I tapped at the screen on my phone and the machine by the wall began to deposit sports drinks. I picked up a blue one and unscrewed it, taking a drink from it as I rub my throat. "Not used to talking that much."

Heh. A quiet kid torturing someone, the offensive jokes write themselves.

Not like I could ever relate to anyone in this new world. My previous memories are foggy and practically nonexistent concerning anything personal. The only real thing that passed over were my skills and knowledge.

Still, that girl I remembered from Brockton Bay…Am-something. I got along with her well. Her father was weirdly…notable? Hard to explain but he had this kickass aura I was jealous of. Still, cool guy. I should check up on them.

I sip at the sports drink as I keep running into walls in my thought process as I tried to think of the consequences of each action.

Killing him would be the simplest, but would also alert them of my presence and general existence, whoever 'they' are, my studies have shown that these agents rarely die truly. Someone must be looking after them so they can continue working. And it seems like they've got influence all over the country. The government? Possibly. The PRT? Most likely but the files I skimmed through didn't show anything concerning the ability to permanently give powers. Maybe something connected to the government and the PRT? Thoughts for later.

Leaving him to the cops would be a horrible idea, the government is incompetent enough to let him slip through their fingers no matter what crime I set on his ass. He's seen my face too. While the Unwritten Rules might help me, I haven't made many friends under this costume. Should leave it in the garbage. So leaving him in the government's hands is stupid.

Kidnapping him is my only choice. He might have information that could be useful for a later date and it could bring whoever's backing him out of hiding, even if it's just a representative. I wonder if Jackie's still around?

A whistle sounded out behind me as I aimed the empty Px4 at the voice as she simply ignored it. "You really did a number on him boss. Nice job."

I groan, "Whiplash." I name the Cape/Fixer I've hired for this entire fuckery. "Please, just call me something, anything else."

"Why? Not like you have a solid cape identity," Whiplash spoke as she picked up another bottle from the floor when I hacked into the drink machine. She unscrewed it and sipped from it as I threw my empty one into the trash as I took a look at the Fixer.

Whiplash, or Jackie depending on which identity she's using, is an asian woman with her hair dyed and in a ponytail, grey almond eyes hidden by a domino mask. She wore a crisp set of black slacks, dress shoes, and black dress shirt with a red tie. There was also a whip at her side though she does have other weapons hidden in her person or available at any time as a cape with teleporting powers.

"Still, did you actually find anything?" I had trouble keeping my gaze on her as I looked away and she huffed. "An hour. I left you here for an hour. How did you not get anything at that time!" Despite her words, she still had that infuriating smirk, though I knew that she was as frustrated as I am.

Both of us had a personal stake in all this.

"Bullets." I said, extending my hand as a box of bullets was dropped in my hand as I stared at it.I opened it and I noticed it was empty. I threw it and it disappeared before it hit the floor as I glared at the woman. "Give me my bullets."

She scoffed. "Boy, I bought you that gun."

"I paid for it, so give me the bullets." I tried again as she scoffed.

"What? So you could kill him?" She asked with a quirked brow.

"No." I simultaneously told the truth and lied as she picked up on it.

She glanced at the unconscious thug and quickly connected the pieces. "Oh no. You are not leaving that fucktard with me. I might kill him."

"It's you or me, and personally, it's a lot less suspicious for a woman to keep a man in her dungeon than it is for a teen to do that." I retorted as I scrolled through the camera feeds I hacked into and stilled.

Why are there bodies? "Jackie, are those the fucking Teeth?" I hissed out that last part as she looked at me like I was the insane one.

"That's irrelevant. I'm not bringing the fucktard along with me." She started as I spun from the camera footage to her as I tried to answer.

"Look," I manage, "my mom will notice if I bring along a weird and traumatized man with me to Brockton Bay, and with all the capes there, who knows what would happen. Besides, I have school and shit to worry about. You don't."

The asian woman glared at me as I continued, "Beside, kill him, don't kill him, he'll lead us to his bosses."

That seems to interest her. "He has information. Either they'll send someone to kill him, or the big boss will appear. You can always just pick me up when that happens and we'll see from there what we can pick out from the remains."

"What makes you think there'll be remains?" Asks Jackie as she glares at Marc.

"Explosives aren't clean." I answer as I stare at the footage of the fucking cops. "You called the cops!?"

She grins viciously, "Well duh, they come in, see the Empire trying to expand and the Teeth then there'll be a shoot out, or a fight and in the chaos? We'll leave like thieves, no one will ever know we were here."

I lower my bandanna and glare at her while she just smiles and I just give up. "Whatever. Get Marc out of here."

"I'm not your personal chauffeur, you do it." She retorts and my brow twitches as I think up an absolute wave of insults before letting it go.

"I don't have the time for this, I've gotta get going." I say as I exit the area.

"Don't you dare pick up the guns from the gangs!" She yells as I manage to flip her off before I leave and send her an audio file from Marc's phone that I got while she was talking. It was a recent one, when I was in the midst of hunting him down maybe a week ago? Seems like he's supposed to be in Brockton Bay.

How convenient. Something's happening in Brockton Bay.

I rewind the video and look up as I come face-to-face with a skinhead with Empire tattoos. I had my bandanna lowered as I blinked.

Shit.

"Who the fuck are you? And what did you-ah!" He didn't go farther as Whiplash was behind him, choking him out as she gave me a smile and jerked her head, telling me to get on as I heard the chatter of cops while I raised the bandanna. I nod as I lower myself and jog, hiding behind a crate as I begin traversing my way through the basement of the stadium being used for the game. The only real bump was the time I had to distract a guard with a lure.

I soon hit a wall as I looked through the glass door and the guards getting in between me and freedom.

There is one way but after Damian…

Nothing I can do will be able to make her improve, but she can learn.

"Aina, you there?"

"Present and ready sir~." Came the cheery reply from the AI on my phone. A project Damian and I started on when he first got his powers. It took a while since Damian's own Tinker powers didn't really align well with AI creation, but with a bit of studying we managed. Miraculously. Hell, out of everything we worked together to make, Aina used the most Tinker bullshit.

"You know a way to cause a distraction? Something big that can get me out without being noticed by the cops?" I asked, the voice in my phone almost jumping in joy.

"A blackout! If you can get the access codes I can help create a blackout, 404." She spoke, the last part confusing me.

Idly, I hacked into the cameras, scrolling them and looking for someone with the codes, "What's 404?"

"Well," started Aina, "Damian was Arcane and you could never decide on a name, and when you revealed yourself you left it as an error, and 404 is the error number that's shown when a website can't be found. And you're very elusive so clearly, 404."

Found him. A tap later and I sent the codes to Aina so she could look through them. "Here, careful."

"Of course. Good luck!" Came Aina's cheery voice as I couldn't help but sigh in exasperation. Aina was programmed by both of us to be bubbly and helpful. Almost a bit too much, in my opinion.

Though I've always wanted an AI companion so that's cool.

There it is. A lightning bolt signifying a blackout.

With a tap, it all went dark.

Like modern day magicians.

And by the time the chaos settled down, I was sleeping in the car as we headed to Brockton Bay for the first time in around a decade.

I wonder how much has changed?

A/N:Hello, everyone, this is an idea that's been in the back of my head and might be the first one I write since I've loved the Watch Dogs series for a long time. I was really heartbroken when I found a lack of Worm x Watch Dogs fic, there was one and that's it.

Anyway, thematically, the story will be similar to the first Watch Dogs, so a revenge story, with the addition of a few things found in Watch Dogs 2 and Legion along with the character itself being similar to Benjamin from "I have no Idea What I'm doing".

I really hope the author doesn't mind it.

Anyway, I've got to read through the actual webnovel and that's going to take a while. There's also planning this entire thing but that's my and my beta's problem. If I manage to find one.

So, this is an unedited, trash, and abhorrent version of the first chapter of the story. Leave your thoughts in the comments and, well, till next time.