Chapter 27

I'd been putting off some rather important tasks for too long. My own fear and self doubt forming a perfect cocktail of indecision. I'd been strong enough for a while now to take the next step, but I wanted everything to be perfect…

But against the Nine, that was never going to happen. The best I could hope for was minimized civilian casualties. If I put off attacking them, then next thing I know, they'd end up in Brockton Bay and I'd have to deal with that nightmare.

The Grimoire apparently liked my new sense of initiative and handed me a suitable reward.

Dragon Stone (Touhou Project: Forbidden Hermit, 600 cp): You have a dragon's stone of some kind, similar to an egg but made of stone. Should you allow it to hatch in a terribly destructive storm, the new dragon will be a loyal follower of yours. Alternatively, you could shave away the rocky exterior and see the beautiful light trapped within or use its natural constant wetness as a source of water. Note that dragons here are phenomenally powerful, a fully grown one mentioned as being capable of devouring the stars in the skies and making the heavens and earth tremble.
1300cp-600cp= 700cp remaining

Not exactly a useful power right this moment, but long term? A very worthwhile investment.

Still, I couldn't just go fight the Nine without any kind of authorization or clearance. Piggot would have my hide and despite not needing it anymore, I actually liked my job.

"Doormaker, Clairvoyant, I'd like to speak to Alexandria, please," I said into the empty air once I'd found a spot over the ocean, away from the city.

I only had to wait about two minutes before a Door opened and Alexandria floated through. "Yes, Magus?" She asked politely, though I could detect a hint of annoyance at being called like that.

"I'm going to go after the Slaughterhouse Nine," I said without preamble. "I wanted to make sure that wasn't going to cause any issues between us."

Alexandria frowned and I could practically see her Thinker mind working. "They produce a lot of capes in their wake," she finally said. "Not to mention having some very dangerous powers on their roster, powers that could be of use against certain… enemies."

"As it stands, they're doing fuck-all," I said flatly. "The triggers they produce won't be of any use against him, I'm sure Contessa already told you about the document she swiped, so you know that we already have the potential combination we need. It's just a matter of actually using them effectively."

"Yes she informed us," she said. "But we don't know if your strange precognition truly works. Why would our enemy give you the knowledge on how to defeat him?"

Because I'm not a parahuman. Of course, you'd just call me crazy.

"Why did he allow a power like that of Flechette out of his arsenal when it's one of the few powers that can reach his true body? Because he's been driven into a state of depression by what he thinks is the end of his cycle and the death of his partner. He's not thinking clearly when handing out powers and the passengers themselves have begun to develop an agency of their own." I sighed and looked out over the ocean. "Look, you can choose to trust me, let me kill the Nine and preserve the more useful powers for a rainy day, or you can tell me to stay away from your little band of monsters for the sake of the capes they'll create and watch as the end of the world begins in about three years give or take."

She considered my words for a few moments and then gave a slow nod of realization. "You're planning on feeding their powers to…"

"Yes. If you read about my vision, then you know that she has the potential to be a hero too. Her trigger messed up her mind, but she can be better."

"You're making a dangerous gamble."

I snorted. "It's the fate of the world, Alexandria. Every decision people like us make is a dangerous gamble."

She crossed her arms and continued to think. "You want official authorization."

"I'm sure the head of the PRT could work something out. If Alexandria or Eidolon swooped in to take me on an urgent mission, who am I or Piggot to say 'no'?"

"Very well. Just don't get yourself killed," she said.

"It would take a lot more than them to do that. Thank you." I hesitated as I turned to leave, but reconsidered. "How is Eidolon doing?"

Alexandria actually winced and gave a small shake of her head. "He's still processing what you told him. He isn't handling it well."

"I'd be worried if he was. I'm sorry, for what it's worth, but he had to know."

"I understand and I think he does too. But to learn that you are responsible, even indirectly, for the death of millions… Even for those of us with so much blood on our hands, it's a lot to come to terms with," she said.

"I can only imagine. I hope he manages to pull himself together…"

"As do we. Good hunting, Magus." She began to drift back through the portal. "I would… appreciate it if you manage to make the Siberian suffer somehow."

"Oh don't worry about a thing, ma'am. There will be plenty of suffering to go around for the Nine."

I hopscotch portaled my way across the East Coast of the U.S, that is to say, created portals within line of sight over and over. Quicker than flying, even if it did take a lot of energy, but it also gave me more and more anchor points to potentially teleport to later. GPS and Lisa's map quickly led me toward the most likely current location of the Nine and even if they weren't there, I'd hopefully be close enough that there would be signs of some sort.

After hours of skipping my way toward my destination, I spotted smoke off to the side of my path and felt a small chill. Had they wised up and taken a different path? Probably. Lisa with her power was good, but that didn't mean omniscient and one of Nine could have easily wanted or needed a detour or Jack noticed they were being predicted and decided to go wild.

I took a deep breath and then began to cast spells on myself. Mostly spells of protection, particularly against mental intrusion. I didn't know when Cherish joined the Nine, but I was hoping I was early enough that she wouldn't yet be a problem.

I flew low along the road, hidden beneath Lunatic Eyes and soon saw a sign proclaiming "Welcome to Millville, population 1,182" except the actual number had been slashed through, a rough '9' carved into the sign instead. I cursed under my breath and put on some extra speed, noting burned out buildings, shattered glass, and wrecked vehicles everywhere. Then I began to see the bodies.

Most had tried running. A few had bravely tried to fight back with firearms, older looking men who were probably veterans and a few guys who had the clothing of hunters.

Why had I been hesitating to do this? Why hadn't I tried pressuring other heroes to go after them sooner or explain what Jack Slash's real powers were?

This is my fault.

I stumbled upon the body of a little boy. He couldn't have been older than four or five. He looked so peaceful that I thought he was alive for a moment…

Until I tried picking him up. Then I realized that his entire back had been drenched in Crawler's acid.

I found more corpses inside a burned out shell of a building. Burnscar's work. Some corpses outside told me that the Siberian had been waiting for them if they'd tried to flee.

I guess burning alive is preferable to being eaten.

More and more atrocities in just this small of a town. The Nine were masters of cruelty and pain. With each new horror my rage built. I hit my breaking point when I heard a baby crying. I rushed through the town's streets until I spotted an abandoned stroller, my instincts screaming at me to help. Instincts that hadn't yet been honed. Any veteran hero could tell you that my next actions were a mistake. That I was flying headlong into a trap.

So when I reached into the stroller and gently took out the small baby, I was shocked and horrified as it exploded into a cloud of viral infections right in my face. My protection spells prevented the worst of it and just a moment's concentration took care of the rest, but it hurt like hell and the sight…

Well, it still haunts my nightmares.

After that I was more careful, methodically searching every building, using magic to carefully scan what looked like survivors, but were actually just traps put up by Bonesaw or Mannequin. Of the Nine themselves, they were gone.

But they'd left a trail. An imprint of their malevolence could still be felt if I focused. Psychometry and Clairvoyance in combination helped narrow it down even further. I stood from where I'd knelt to focus on my magic, the ashes of blood and innocents staining my clothing.

Before, the Nine had been an impersonal band of monsters. A theoretical.

Now I'd seen with my own eyes what they were capable of.

No more. I swore to myself.

I rocketed up into the sky once more, eyes and magical senses scanning around me.

Found you!

They'd taken their R.V to a campsite of all places a few miles down the road from Millville, actually backtracking along their previous route. Kind of smart of them. I floated down into the sparse forest next to a small stream and began my hunt. It didn't take me long to find a torn apart car and a scattering of tents. A family that had been on vacation.

More deaths to weigh on my soul.

I crept silently through the woods and soon found my first target.

Mannequin had set up a small ways away from what I presumed was the Nine's main camp. A variety of workbenches and toolkits laid sprawled out around a clearing he had curtained off with a large tarp between two trees and I watched as the villainous Tinker worked, doing some routine maintenance on his body.

As well as cleaning blood off of his pristine white shell.

I admit, I didn't think. I was beyond enraged at this point, to the point of calm clarity and immediate action. It felt like someone else was moving my body, like I was just watching. I manifested the Division Bell and then rang it in Mannequin's direction. I could practically see the soundwaves as they traveled and then struck, the materials and components that made up his mechanical body suddenly coming apart at their seams.

There was a racket as ceramics, metal, electronics, and finally, squishy organs hit the forest floor.

I'd just ended the life of a human being. Yet I could feel nothing except a cold sense of satisfaction. One less murderous piece of scum in the world.

One down.

I glided through the forest, silent as a shadow, Lunatic Eyesonce again proving it's worth. I came to a stop right in the midst of the Nine's encampment. It was surprisingly mundane, a fire going in a pit nearby, chairs set up around it, an R.V with a tarp serving to block the sun and wind, creating a little rest area in the shade. In a nearby stream, I could see Bonesaw humming happily to herself while washing clothes alongside the Siberian. Goddammit, she looked so adorable and innocent, except for the blood on her apron. Jack Slash, Burnscar, and Shatterbird sat around the fire, Jack chattering away at the two women as he flipped burger patties on a grate over the flames. Hatchet Face sat beneath a tree some distance away, reading a book by the look of things. Anywhere else it would have been a wholesome scene of a group of friends, a family even, just enjoying themselves camping.

It made me sick to think of what they'd just been doing a few miles away.

I marked the location in my head and then continued on through the woods, looking for one of the more important targets of the day. After searching slowly and carefully, I finally found a different campsite a few hundred yards away that was occupied.

A beat up old van was parked beneath a tree, an older man poking at a fire. His clothes were grubby and stained, an unkempt beard on his face, a dull look in his eyes. But I knew who he was, especially when I saw the symbol on the back of his hand.

William Manton. Master of the Siberian.

I made no sound as I approached him. This would be the Nine's first alert that something was off. That was fine. I wanted them to know that someone was hunting them, that for the first time in a long while, they were the victims, the prey.

I'd kept a lot of spare gear ever since I'd joined the Protectorate. Never knew when you might need it. That included a crossbow bolt filled with Armsmaster's tranquilizer formula in my Endless Quiver. Not an item I ever thought I'd have real use for, but it proved handy then as I pulled out a spare bolt filled with green tinged liquid and jammed it into the side of Manton's neck. Part of me wanted to test myself against the Siberian, see if I could fight the supposedly invincible, but… well, better safe than sorry and I really didn't want to push the limits of my protection spells. If she could hurt Scion himself or an Endbringer, then she could probably hurt me too.

Manton collapsed like a puppet with it's strings cut and with enhanced hearing, I began to listen in on the Nine's confusion. Funnily enough, there was no true alarm. The Siberian had a habit of running off to do her own thing if she got bored. Suddenly vanishing could have just been part of her powers for all they knew.

I cracked my knuckles and began to cast more illusory spells around myself. It was time to let my inner theater kid out to play.

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Jack Slash wasn't a paranoid person by nature. Oh sure, he was cautious, one had to be in order to wrangle a merry band of artists such as his Slaughterhouse Nine, but if one became paranoid then they ran the risk of looking weak and to look weak was to be dead. So he thought nothing of it when the Siberian suddenly vanished. The invincible woman often did her own thing every now and again (which could be annoying) so it wasn't that much of a surprise.

It was a tad more concerning when Riley came up to him, concern on her features. "Uncle Jack? I think somethings wrong."

Jack flipped a burger patty with expert precision and felt his stomach rumble at the smell of cooking meat. "Oh you know how Sibby gets when we're taking a break like this. She probably went off to find something to eat."

"She didn't just wander off though, she just disappeared," Riley whispered so that only he could hear.

Jack paused. He of course knew of the Siberian's little secret, several of the Nine did (it wouldn't do for Crawler to accidentally eat the Siberian's creator after all) but for the Siberian to just vanish in the middle of camp, in front of Bonesaw? That was… slightly concerning.

"Hatchet Face!" Jack handed off the burgers to Mimi and approached the Trump/Brute. "I need a favor."

He grunted and glanced up from his reading. "What?"

"I want you to go find Crawler, bring him back to camp," Jack said.

"Why?"

Because I said so, you idiot. "Just a hunch. Something doesn't feel right. Better safe than sorry and all that."

The Brute grunted again, then stood, grabbed his weapon, and lumbered off into the woods. Jack went over back toward the grill, but then blinked as he had to squint. Was it getting darker? Sunset wasn't for another few hours though…

Oh hell.

"Burnscar, start lighting more fires," Jack said calmly. "Shatterbird, into the sky, get an eye on things. Bonesaw, get your tools ready."

"What is it, Uncle Jack?" Bonesaw asked.

"Did no one else notice that it's suddenly dusk?" Jack demanded.

They all blinked, looking confused.

Double hell. Stranger effect?

"Mannequin, quit your tinkering and-" Jack yanked back the tarp only to see a pile of equipment and organs that had once been Alan Gramme. "Shit."

"Language!" Bonesaw called.

Jack gritted his teeth, but yanked out a straight razor and a K-bar knife that he'd taken from one of those silly humans who thought they could fight back. "Apologies my dear, but it seems our dear friend Alan has passed on."

Bonesaw gasped and made to run toward the remains, but Jack held her back. "We can bury or cremate him later, once we deal with the Stranger that's running around here."

A burst of golden light suddenly thundered down through the sky and impacted in the woods a mile or two away. The shockwave struck the remaining Slaughterhouse members like a hammer, nearly taking Jack off of his feet as plumes of dust and ash went up into the air.

"Well, it seems someone is trying to divide us," Jack said casually, dusting himself off, but feeling a small shudder run through him. He had no doubts that the attack was meant for Crawler, but if a Blaster had that much firepower, why hadn't they targeted the main camp?

A scream pierced the air suddenly. A familiar voice, Shatterbird's.

A body hit the ground with a wet thud, her face a rictus of pain and agony, blood running from every facial orifice.

"Shatterbird!" Riley screamed, her voice distraught. She skidded to halt and began to poke and prod. "She isn't dead, but…"

"My apologies, I'm still refining that technique," a voice said suddenly from the edge of camp. "This seemed as good a time as any to practice."

Jack instinctively swung toward the source of the voice, his knives projecting their edges toward whatever bastard had killed three, perhaps four of his playmates.

The figure was familiar, one of their eventual targets. Mage? Magus, that was right. The hero held up a cane and a shimmering barrier deflected both of Jack's attacks away. Behind him, the shadows danced and writhed.

"I should have done this a while ago. You psychopaths have gone on too long," Magus said, his eyes cold and dispassionate.

Jack grinned, but inside he felt wrong. Usually he could read people easily, but this Magus… He couldn't tell a thing about him! Not to mention his powers were something of a mystery. A grab-bag, right? How had a grab-bag gotten enough power to raze such a huge section of forest and do whatever he had to Shatterbird and Mannequin? Had he gotten rid of the Siberian as well? "Magus, correct? You're something of a rising star. Has the big hero come to deal with the monsters in the dark? Make himself a killer, no better than-" Suddenly Jack could no longer hear his own voice. Magus' eyes had begun glowing.

"I don't care to hear your pseudo philosophical bullshit, Jacob," he said. "Just sit back and die with the rest of your scum."

Burnscar chose that moment to hurl a mountain of fire in his direction, an inferno that would have consumed a small army if left unchecked, would probably start a wildfire that would attract quite a bit of attention. It would be worth it if it meant killing the damned upstart.

You've been a cape for a month and you think you can equal us, the Slaughterhouse Nine?! Jack thought within his mind and tried to say, though he still couldn't hear his own voice. Sound manipulation too? Or a Master effect? I am Jack Slash, even when I am dead, parents will still tell their children to beware of me!

Magus didn't move from his spot, instead he jerked his hand to the side and the entire nearby river suddenly lifted up into the air and clashed with the fire in a huge burst of steam. Jack let out a scream of pain as his skin was parboiled, only Bonesaw's enhancements keeping him from immediate death. He turned off his pain receptors with a thought and began to slash through the air in Magus' direction, intent on killing the bastard!

Magus was like a shadow as he flew through the steam with superhuman speed and grabbed Burnscar by the wrists, keeping her from summoning more fire. "You, I feel just a tiny bit sorry for. I'll try and save you too, but you aren't the priority." He slammed a fist into her jaw and the pyrokinetic collapsed like a sack of potatoes.

Bonesaw fired darts of poison and viruses at the back of the hero, but Magus held up a hand and they all stopped short. He flicked a finger and a wave of force rippled out and struck Bonesaw in the chest, sending her flying into a tree where she slumped and remained still.

Jack gritted his teeth some more and drew out his sharpest blades. He wouldn't lose to some punk who thought he could make a name for himself by taking on the Nine. How many upstarts had Jack and his band killed just like him over the years? Dozens? Hundreds? He'd stopped counting a long time ago.

Before he could swing, Magus suddenly disappeared from sight, only to reappear right in front of Jack's face. He punched Jack in the chest, driving the air from his lungs, then kicked him in the face for good measure. Jack could hear his nose crunch and grimaced at how much cosmetic damage he was going to have to have Bonesaw repair.

"Your games end here, Jacob," Magus said. "You're done."

Jack found that he could speak again. "And yet, it is I who win, Mr. Hero," he said mockingly. "You didn't think it would be so easy to kill Crawler, did you?"

Hatchet Face leapt suddenly from the forest, his body covered in burns, but alive, and grabbed the hero in a powerful hold, dragging him away from his leader. "Figured you'd want him alive, boss," Hatchet Face rumbled.

Crawler came loping out of the darkness, already regenerated and looking even stronger than before. "Who's this, Jack?"

"Oh just some little hero who thought he could take us on," Jack scoffed, reaching up and pulling his nose straight. Much easier when you couldn't feel the pain. "Did he hurt you much?"

"It was a strong blast, even stronger than Legend," Crawler leered. "I want him to do it again."

"Maybe, once we have Bonesaw do a little work," Jack said. He looked over the wrecked clearing and gave the now powerless hero a grin. "You know, it seems to me that we have an opening or two now. That wasn't very nice of you and not a good place to start with us, but we've had rougher times and I'm sure once Riley wakes up, we can make it so that you'll even have some fun with us. Wouldn't that be exciting, the new rising star of the Protectorate, turned into a monster like the rest of us?"

Magus began to laugh, though it lacked true mirth. His eyes were still cold behind his mask. "I guess I'll let you in on a little secret, seeing as you won't be able to tell anyone."

Steam began rising from his clothes before the hero started glowing intensely with golden light and energy. Hatchet Face screamed as he was instantly immolated. Jack and Crawler backed further away.

"I'm not a parahuman, so Trump powers like his and yours don't work on me," Magus said conversationally.

Jack frowned, despite the dire situation at the hero's words. "I'm not a Trump."

"Yeah I guess it's more of a Thinker power. You've got your knives, sure, but have you never wondered how or why you could keep a band of psychopaths like this together without getting murdered yourself?"

"Because I'm smart and know what they all want," Jack said.

"Because you have a bullshit social Thinker power. It's also why a cape hasn't been able to kill you either. Your power lets you predict and outmaneuver them." He smiled coldly as the golden aura faded. "I bet this entire fight you've been trying and failing to read me, to try and get in my head and use some words to throw me off balance, right?"

Shit.

"Kill him, Crawler."

Crawler roared and surged forward, a mountain of death, one of the strongest Brutes on the planet. Magus simply reared back his fist and struck once. The air shattered with the strength of the blow and Crawler simply ceased to be, fine red mist and chunks of flesh and bone suddenly filling the air, some of it turning to projectiles that ripped through the forest at high velocities. Jack barely noticed as a sliver of bone punched through his leg, forcing him down to one knee.

"What are you?" Jack whispered, fear finally creeping up his spine, a feeling he hadn't felt in earnest since he'd finally killed King all those years ago.

The damn hero sneered down at him as he approached, looking at him as if he was some nobody, not even worth the time. It made Jack feel true hatred on top of his fear. "I am this world's Sorcerer Supreme, the Lord of Balance. I am Magus and you are as dust compared to me."

Then he reached out a hand and Jack's vision went black.
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A/N: I've written how Magus fights from his POV. It's honestly a little boring/ repetitive after a while. I feel like seeing how he looks while fighting others might be a tad more interesting. Hope y'all enjoy and a thousands thanks as always to my wonderful Patrons, you guys rock :)