2:22 AM

"—want it made clear we had nothing to do with this. If I was going to break the unwritten rules this badly, I'd have the Empire killed in their beds first and tell the whole world later. What? No, of course don't put that in the release!" Emily snapped. "And we need our narrative out on PHO. I'm sure the tinfoil-hatters will be going wild." She paused to listen for the reply. "He's on duty...all right, fine, we can pull him. I'll make sure he gets in touch." Agent Reave's social media addiction was largely inexplicable to her, but there were times it came in handy. With that, she unceremoniously hung up. The department PR chief had her work cut out for her. They all did.

Perhaps she ought to be more optimistic. With eleven villains and counting out of commission, it was already one of the best weekends in ENE's history, and now events threatened to further weaken the best-organized gang in town. Emily wasn't an optimistic woman, though. Few PRT Directors were—plus optimism didn't come easily when you'd gotten six hours of sleep in the last forty-eight. The fact that some unknown party was both able to collect the Empire's personal details and willing to leak it perturbed her. There were always those who skirted the unwritten rules, but this flat-out blew them to smithereens. Even if the act helped their cause, she deeply distrusted the kind of person who'd do it.

And oh, there was the fact that Max fucking Anders was apparently Kaiser, and one of the city's larger employers apparently a Neo-Nazi front. Officially unverified, until the analysts had a chance to pore over the evidence, but it would explain much. The Empire's narcotics operation was surprisingly sophisticated for a gang operating in a single city; if they had a whole pharma company in their pocket, it became much less surprising. Sadly for them, their days of rolling in dough were surely numbered now. An alphabet soup of government agencies, perhaps including (shudder) the IRS, would be coming for every penny. Cut off from their finances, she could imagine the Empire being forced into a new mode of existence. Less well-resourced, but more desperate and more vicious...

Her thoughts were interrupted when her desk phone rang to signal a fresh crisis. "Ma'am, Lung's resurfaced." reported one of the agents on console. "Dispatch's getting calls about him running through Downtown."

Emily sighed. "Understood." Of course he was. Of course he'd chosen to show his ugly face again now, of all times. She'd scarcely hung up before her cell phone rang too.

It was Armsmaster. The Protectorate leader was on the ball, at least. "You've heard about Lung?" he said without any preamble.

"Yes. You're moving out?"

"We're scrambling now. ETA six minutes."

Less than ideal. A lot could happen in six minutes where Lung was concerned. Unfortunately, their temporary HQ was closer to the north edge of the Docks, meaning they'd need to cross the neighborhood to get to him. "What the hell is he even doing Downtown?" Emily wondered aloud. Lung rarely ventured out of his own kingdom under normal circumstances; then again, circumstances were hardly normal. Was he planning to burn down the city center in a literal blaze of glory? That would certainly earn him a Kill Order, but desperate capes did stupid things. Or maybe a revenge strike on PRT HQ? There was only a skeleton crew of troopers garrisoning the building right now, but their automated defenses should hold long enough. Or… "No. Could he?" she murmured. "Could he have gotten the same message we did?"

"His last reported position was only a few blocks from Medhall…" Armsmaster trailed off. "We won't beat him there. Maybe Velocity and the New Wave fliers could."

Oh, yes. Emily was sure ordering New Wave to defend Medhall under present circumstances would go over splendidly. Even if they were inclined to such generosity, the idea of a few flying Blasters handling Lung on their own was laughable. "I see. Do what you can to protect civilians, but no unnecessary risks." she said. "I don't want one of ours sacrificing themselves for Kaiser."

"Understood."

"And I don't want Lung escaping again, either." she continued. "Do what it takes to get him—alive or dead."


2:25 AM

"HOOKWOLF!" Max bellowed. A metal-encased fist came crashing down on his desk. There was crack and a cloud of expensive mahogany sawdust. Fenja and Menja (currently normal sized) flinched and held each other close. "Hookwolf! Give me back my legions!"

For all the street cred he brought the Empire, there was a good reason Max had deployed Hookwolf on the opposite side of the Docks from himself. The man was a thug at heart, not a soldier. Obeying orders wasn't in his nature. Better to let him rampage independently than to let his bloodlust screw up Max's battle plans. If he won, they both shared in the glory; if he went too far, it could be claimed he'd exceeded his remit; if went down, losing a powerful loose cannon wasn't the end of the world.

Now though, Max wished he'd kept the wolf on a shorter leash. Seven capes had attacked the Docks from the west, and one had returned. Their healer, their jack-of-all-trades, and their best Mover had been gambled and lost in one decisive battle, and for what? So Hookwolf could get the glory of claiming the new Ward's scalp? It felt almost karmic that he'd been scalped instead. "Idiot! Fucking glory hound!" Max raged. "If he's not already dead, I'll kill him myself!"

"That's not fair!" Stormtiger mustered the courage to object on his friend's behalf. "Hookwolf fought bravely! He fought honorably! But the enemy—"

"SHUT UP!" It was a good thing Max's office at the top of Medhall was soundproofed. "I don't want a word from you about courage and honor! Bad enough you ran away, but you abandoned Victor and Othala too!"

Stormtiger cringed like a frightened kitten. "There was nothing I could have done!" he whimpered.

"We can still get them back, right?" Fenja said hopefully. "I mean, we've broken Hookwolf out before. We rally the troops and—"

Max sighed. "What troops? We're all that's left!" The five remaining capes of the Empire Eighty-Eight fit comfortably into one room. "Krieg can't even walk!" His remaining lieutenant was sprawled out on the couch, one leg wrapped in a crude splint. That had been a parting gift from Assault. He hadn't worried about it in the moment because Othala could just heal it in minutes—oh, wait!

"Then what about the other villains?" Menja suggested. "They've got to be worried about what the PRT's doing. If we go down, they'll be next!"

"You think Lung will come out of hiding and help us?" Max said sarcastically. "Or maybe Skidmark? Grue? Faultline and her freak show?" If he were on fire, he doubted any of them would piss on him to put him out. That was downside of running an organization built on ideological hatred of Asians, blacks, Case 53s, and all other non-Aryans; their list of potential allies grew awfully thin.

"Um, Circus then?"

Stormtiger scoffed. "Isn't Circus some kind of homo?"

"Coil?"

"Does he even exist?"

"Über and Leet?"

Max laughed humorlessly. "Über and Leet! Is that what we're reduced to? Begging for help from Über and fucking Leet?"

"Kaiser." Krieg spoke up for the first time in a while, his voice brittle and pained. "The situation is critical. There's no denying it. We are diminished, and the enemy ascendant. But we must survive, we must keep faith. There are still brave and true men who will rally to the cause. Should we fail the savage hordes of the East will plunge Brockton Bay into darkness, stain the streets red with Aryan blood—"

"Thank you, Krieg." Max elected to cut him off before he could go into further detail. When he got going, Krieg could rant for hours about lesser races sullying the precious bodily fluids of white women with their filthy seed and things of that nature. It was enough to make one wonder if he had a repressed kink. "You're right. So long as we keep fighting, there's still hope. We came back after 1945. We'll come back from this too."

He was even starting to believe it. Krieg's intervention had served to soothe his raw nerves a bit. Sure, losing all those capes sucked, but he was still a free man. That was what counted, no? He could lie low and rebuild, like his grandfather had in Argentina decades ago. Jettisoning Hookwolf and his ilk might even prove a blessing in disguise, a chance to pivot in a more respectable direction. There were plenty of capes who balked at cold-blooded disembowelment, yet couldn't quite accept seeing so many black and yellow faces in the street. One particular name came to mind. "I'll reach out to Purity in the morning. She'll come back. She has to. If not for me, for our people."

The others visibly brightened at that. Even after her departure, Kayden was still held in high esteem, or at least her power was. Max was sure he could find the right words to coax her back into the fold. She could play at being a hero all she wanted, but old habits died hard. Would she really be happy for Aster to grow up in a city controlled by those people? It was one of the first things they drummed into your head, the notion of protecting white children—

Absorbed in thought, the sudden blare of the intercom caught him by surprise. "Front desk here!" came the night receptionist's panicked voice. "Someone's trying to break in!"

Stormtiger looked bewildered. "Who—"

In response there was a crash, followed by a shrill scream and a deep, bestial roar before the intercom abruptly cut off. Max jumped to his feet. He'd heard that roar before—no, impossible! How could he be here? Why would he be here?

The fire alarm went off.

"Oh shit." he said.


2:28 AM

Medhall was already on fire when they got there. From the air, Vicky could see the orange blossom of flame engulfing the main entrance. "Well, we're not getting in that way." Aunt Sarah said matter-of-factly. "Crystal, blast out some windows! Vicky, get Velocity up there!"

Vicky went into a dive. Overhead, red light blazed as Crystal began strafing the face of the building. Man, this must seem crazy to any night owls watching. Out of context, it looked like New Wave had just shown up and started attacking Medhall. Which was technically kind of true, but still! "Velocity! Hey, Velocity!" she called out. The red-costumed hero looked up as she descended the last stretch to street level. She reached out for him. "Come on, I'll get you in!"

Velocity looked at her, then back up at Medhall, where Crystal was still merrily blasting away a dozen stories up. The hole had maybe gotten bigger than was strictly necessary. He hesitated. "Um…"

Vicky rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to drop you, dude. Just don't wiggle around too much. And, uh, watch the hands."

Conceding defeat, Velocity allowed her to grab him. His weight was nothing to her. She easily lifted off, flew through the new gap in the windows, and deposited him on the carpet. It was a seemingly normal office with cubicles and a dusting of broken glass on the floor. Vicky had half-expected obvious red flags like swastikas and Hitler posters on the walls, but that would defeat the point, wouldn't it? "Go, uh, do your thing. Radio if you need pickup." she said.

With that, she flew back out. Velocity was going to scout the building, using his speed to take inventory of the situation, and she...was going to wait outside. They were supposed to evacuate any civilians he found; Vicky wondered if anyone in Medhall at this hour might not be a secret Nazi, but fine, they were heroes. They had to give the benefit of the doubt. As for capes, Armsmaster's orders were crystal clear. They were to avoid combat until told otherwise. That was—well, she wasn't dumb enough to disobey, but that didn't mean she was happy about it. The big reveal was barely fifteen minutes old and she was still processing things. For God's sake, she'd actually met Max Anders. Dean had once taken her to a fancy party as his plus-one, and Medhall's CEO had come over to pay respects to the 'upstanding young hero', as he put it. Ugh. Aunt Jess must have rolled in her grave when she'd shaken his hand rather than smashing his face in.

She consoled herself with the thought that what Lung might do was worse than anything she could get away with.


2:30 AM

The flotilla of PRT vans in the street was faintly ridiculous. Medhall was a major landmark, but normally you didn't see a small army of heroes responding to a building fire. Well, I was pretty sure the Brockton Bay Fire Department wouldn't be able to extinguish this one—not, to be honest, that I was confident we could either. Among all the capes assembled, none of us had hydrokinesis or a similarly convenient power, and the blaze was spreading fast. Smoke shrouded the lower levels and spilled out onto the street. The orange glow behind the windows had crept alarmingly high. And maybe I was imagining things, but if I squinted I thought I could make out a flickering shadow behind the flames, moving like a living thing.

Nearby, Armsmaster sat atop his bike. He was close enough I could hear snatches of the instructions he was giving out. "—need the walls stabilized, stat! Cover as much as you can, keep refreshing the effect—"

The building next to me shrank to nearly ground level, then popped right back up. Two small figures were now standing on the roof, one in white and one in green. The corner of the rooftop stretched, almost touching the side of Medhall just above the billowing smoke. Clockblocker swiped his hand across the glass. The same corner snapped up towards Medhall's middle levels, up again nearly to the spire, then bent sideways. The pair moved to the next building over and repeated the process. Low, middle, high...I shook my head. Again, Vista's power was something else. It was mesmerizing and disturbing in equal measure to see skyscrapers distort like melted wax.

This part of the plan seemed clear enough. Clockblocker was meant to buy time, keep Medhall standing long enough for Velocity and the fliers to do their job. After that, though? I suspected I was here as the hard counter to Lung, but I had a lot of reservations about going into the mess. For starters, I could actually smell the scent of smoke from a block away, meaning my power wasn't dispelling it. Lung might have started the fire but by this point it mainly consisted of ordinary burning material. Not to mention how badly the building's structural integrity must be compromised despite Clockblocker's efforts—I didn't think I could nullify a burning ceiling falling on my head and didn't want to try—and oh, now Miss Militia was coming this way.

"Blank! A word?" She stopped a couple paces outside normal conversation range. Two months as a Ward had taught me it was rude to nullify my coworkers' powers without warning, so I stayed put and resorted to speaking louder than usual. Awkward, but it got the job done.

"If this is about what I think, I don't think I can go in there!" Did that sound too defeatist? "It would, um, be reckless." I added.

Miss Militia took me throwing her own words back at her in stride. "It most certainly would. Normally we'd have one of the fliers take you up or have Vista warp you—but none of that works with your power."

"Sorry."

She shrugged it off. "Powers are inconvenient sometimes. Just how it is. So, question for you." The pause that followed felt longer than it really was. "Have you ever ridden in a helicopter?"

"I've never even been on a plane before." I admitted. We weren't the sort of family that had the disposable income to jet off to Florida or wherever rich people went. Not to say that I was averse to it or anything. Statistically, it was the safest form of transport; I'd read that somewhere—or was it only commercial flights? It didn't really matter right now.

"Ah. Well, there's a first time for everything." she reassured me. "Just buckle your seatbelt and you'll be fine. We're hardly expecting you to pilot the thing."


2:35 AM

The glass was hot. Dennis only brushed it momentarily with gloved fingers, but it had him flinching as if he'd touched a hot stove. "Fuck me!" he yelped.

Vista immediately yanked him back to a safe distance. "You okay, Clock?" she asked.

"Think so." Dennis hissed as he shook his singed hand. The pain was lessening already. Not even a first degree burn, then, but it still worried him. "I don't know how much longer I can do this."

In the background, Medhall kept on burning. Portions were beginning to look incandescent, like a giant lava lamp in the middle of Downtown. Rumbling and crashing noises came from inside with increasing volume. If he and Vista hadn't been running around freezing and re-freezing the walls, he honestly doubted the building would still be standing. The process was proving stressful. With his power's variable time limit, it was difficult to tell how much longer any given chunk of wall had. If he touched a section that was still frozen or had only just unfrozen, the heat was fine. Otherwise—well, he really hoped they could stop before he got unlucky and melted a finger off.

Sure, Panacea could grow it back, but it sounded agonizing.

So it was a relief when Velocity finally reported back on the main channel. "Velocity here." He sounded out of breath. Dennis could only imagine what could've gotten him huffing and puffing. "Survey done. Three night janitors rescued. New Wave got them out through the windows. They said ground level had a security guard and receptionist, but I couldn't get through the flames. They've got to be dead already. No others. Building is clear of civilians, I repeat, no more civilians inside."

"Copy. What about capes?" came Armsmaster's reply.

"Can confirm Lung, Fenja, and Menja, likely Kaiser given all the metal, not sure about others." He somehow conveyed the verbal equivalent of a shrug through the radio. "Didn't want to get too close."

"Understood. Withdraw to the perimeter."

If Velocity had any misgivings about the order, he didn't show it. "Yes sir."

"Clockblocker, cease stabilization. Vista, put some distance between us and Medhall. I want minimal collateral damage from the collapse. Do you copy?"

"Yes sir." said Vista.

"Yes sir." Dennis repeated. What else could he say?

He was smart enough to pick up on the implications. They all were. What innocents could be saved had been saved, and as for the not-so-innocents, let the chips fall where they may. The lives of a few villains weren't worth risking the lives of heroes over. It was cold, logical, and generally on-brand for Armsmaster. He couldn't say it was wrong, exactly. Charging into a high-rise that was on fire and falling apart sounded suicidal enough without having to fight Lung at the same time. Still, it didn't sit entirely well with him. He didn't know if he'd ever be comfortable making that judgment. For all that he treated everything like a joke, there was still part of him that cared, the part that had made him volunteer for the Wards to begin with. Standing by while people, however unpleasant, died horribly, made him uneasy. He wasn't conceited enough to think that made him a saint among men; it just seemed like basic humanity.

As he'd come to discover, not all his fellow Wards felt the same way.

Something flared in the corner of his eye. He looked over in time to spot a tiny ember flying up the side of Medhall. It nearly reached the top of the spire before stalling in mid-air and plummeting down out of sight.

"The hell was that?" he muttered.


Vicky blinked. That fireball had passed quite close to where she was hovering. Before it fell to earth, she was sure she'd seen the shape of a familiar mask inside, engulfed in flames. She took a moment to compose herself before reporting in. They might have been enemies, but it was a sobering thing to see someone she recognized burning to death.

"Uh, I think that was Stormtiger." she said. "Jesus. Awful way to go..."


2:41 AM

The end was near.

The sleek glass tower that had been Medhall was unrecognizable. It had become a pillar of fire and smoke, a burning beacon in the night for all Brockton Bay to see. Great sheets of the walls had sloughed away where Clockblocker's power wore off, forming a growing pile of rubble at street level. Any second now, the remaining structure would become inadequate to contain what was inside.

Hannah kept her binoculars trained firmly on the distant pyre. Even though she was technically only a block away, there was an ocean of stretched asphalt lying in between. Vista was taking her orders seriously, and for good reason. The hole left in the Downtown skyline was going to be large enough without any cascading damage from falling debris. Four tiny dots, the four fliers of New Wave, hovered in a holding pattern. A fifth lurked at higher altitude.

Everything was ready. It was just a matter of waiting now.

A particularly loud rumble marked the tipping point. A massive section of the upper west wall came unfrozen and promptly disintegrated, sending more slag to join the wreckage below. In the resulting hole, something appeared. Nothing so human it could be described as a person or a figure or a face, just something. It was wreathed in flames like a demon from the blackest pits of hell. Wickedly sharp claws hooked into the edges of the gap as it dragged its bulk, over twenty feet long, into the open. There were spears of metal impaling its body from all directions to no apparent effect. White-hot droplets dripped and sizzled as the spears melted under its infernal heat.

The great bat-like wings that unfurled on either side were more worrisome still. The sight triggered some unwelcome memories for Hannah. Even trusting in their plan, she couldn't help a tense feeling in her stomach. Part of her had vainly hoped that the Empire could put Lung down, or that his power might burn itself out before he broke free. If things went sideways—if he somehow escaped the containment zone—it could be no less devastating for the city than an Endbringer attack.

Beams of coruscating red energy lanced down from the heavens into the dragon's head. The sound was reminiscent of a mortar strike (Hannah grimaced; more unwelcome memories there). Lady Photon and Laserdream usually fired well under full power to avoid reducing their opponents to a fine mist, but not so here. Lung roared skyward in reply. His wings beat the air once, twice, and then he lifted off. By all laws of aviation, there was no way his bulky body should have been able to fly, but parahuman powers didn't care what was impossible.

The New Wave Blasters retreated upwards, pelting Lung with more lasers as they went. With how ramped up he was, they might as well have been raindrops. Lung powered through the barrage without visibly slowing down. He navigated around the tip of Medhall (still floating time-locked in the air), cleared it—

—and a bright blue sphere slammed into place around him. Lung bellowed in rage. He thrashed around, filling the enclosed space with white-hot fire, but the cage held. Hannah had once heard Glory Girl brag that Shielder's force fields could even keep an Endbringer at bay. That was surely an exaggerated claim (that hopefully wouldn't be put to the test anytime soon) but there was no doubt they were strong. Strong enough to imprison Lung indefinitely? Perhaps not, but enough for the few moments they needed.

Like a vulture, a single black helicopter descended.


The servants of the so-called empire had tried to stop him as he climbed and burned his way up their tower of lies. None of them stood a chance. They couldn't kill him, and what didn't kill him only made him stronger. The tiger-masked man was a mere gnat. No amount of energy manipulation could save the one with the broken leg from the killing heat, and his injury only made it easier. Lung's skin turned to diamond, his arms to swords, his very being to storm and flame. He grew too strong to war with mortal men, or even giants. He broke the twin titans under his claws and cast them aside like dolls. As for their leader, pah! He named himself an emperor but he'd died like any peasant, died screaming as his armor turned molten and roasted him like a pig.

And to think people had considered them rivals. Considered them equals. What nonsense! Once his dirty tricks were laid bare, he'd been finished. While he—diminished as he was, severed from all his wealth and allies—was still a dragon.

So even as he pounded at the walls of his blue prison, Lung didn't give in to frustration. This would only delay him, not deny him. His power still blazed white-hot with no signs of sputtering out. It knew he still had enemies—an entire city, an entire world of enemies! He felt strong enough to fight whole armies alone, stronger than he had since that day in Kyushu. He should have done this years ago!

His enhanced vision caught a dark shape coming closer. To his surprise, it wasn't a flying cape, but rather a helicopter. Not even a Tinkertech helicopter, an ordinary one bearing the emblem of a shield. Rifle-wielding soldiers leaned out the open doors. Really? Really? His first instinct was to laugh (though his current form was incapable of it), but something prickled in the back of his mind, a flickering memory of doubt and fear buried under maddened rage. The moment before contact, he saw a flash behind the tinted windshield like flame reflected in a mirror, and for all the fire around him he was gripped by sudden cold—

...what was he doing? Why was he falling?

There was a burst of gunfire, and Kenta knew no more.


Force field and dragon both vanished as muzzle flashes lit the sky. A tiny figure came tumbling down, and Hannah tracked it all the way, until it splattered in the midst of the stretched-out street. She watched for another minute after that for good measure, but it just lay there, showing no signs of life.

Lady Photon flew down to examine it. "Lung deceased." came the announcement a moment later.

As scattered cheers broke out around her, Hannah sighed. She would have liked to take him alive, but Lung had brought this upon himself. Once he started flying, the difficulty of getting him into nullification range for more than a second skyrocketed. They had to use that precious window to end things decisively, and given Lung's blood-soaked history she doubted many would blame them. Her sigh, though, was as much from a sense of anti-climax as from regret for the life lost. After all the grief Lung had caused the Protectorate and all the terror he had sown in the populace, she would've expected his fall to be more spectacular. A titanic clash of power versus power, or the triumph of some Tinkertech superweapon, or...instead, a blink of the eye and he was yet another cooling corpse lying on Brockton Bay's dark streets. Although she supposed that was poignant in its own way. The king and the beggar both met a common grave; as they said, memento mori.

There were more than enough capes to handle the cleanup. Personally, she had a Ward to check on.

She found the chopper in a parking lot, its rotors winding down. Blank sat slouched in the open door. The Ward had pushed his mask partway up his face, exposing his pale mouth and chin, and was breathing raggedly. A couple troopers crouched by his side, apparently consoling him. Hannah looked down in shame. It hadn't been fair to put so much on his shoulders. With how useful his power had been tonight, it was easy to just keep asking for more. With how stoically he behaved, it was easy to forget he was still only a kid. A kid who'd only triggered two months ago, and only had his first cape fight two days ago. A kid who'd both seen and committed far more violence than was healthy. "Hey. You did excellently." she reassured him. True, all he'd needed to do was sit in the cockpit, but he'd pulled it off competently enough. She hesitated over her next words. "How are you feeling?"

Blank let out a groan. "Like I'm going to throw up. I don't think flying agrees with me."

Well, he'd answered the question, but in a more banal manner than she'd intended. She couldn't tell if he was being honest or evasive; the boy was damn hard to read. Maybe a bit of both. Hannah remembered her first flight, the beginning of her journey from her war-torn homeland to America. She'd found the experience fascinating, but some of her fellow refugees had looked downright green at the gills. "Ah. You get used to it." She decided not to press the point. Half past two in the morning next the smoking crater that had been Medhall was neither the time nor place for gut-wrenching emotional conversations anyways. "Try breathing slowly and looking out the window. I hear that helps."

"So does ginger." one of the troopers chimed in.

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

"Stay here and catch your breath. We'll handle things—" A burst of chatter in her earpiece interrupted her. "Excuse me."

There was a bunch of cross-talk as several people spoke at once, but one word stood out. Hannah looked up. A lone white light flew over the horizon like a shooting star, and stopped to float high above the fiery pit. Purity. She tensed. There was no way Purity could fight everyone here at once, but with her high Mover and Blaster ratings she could cause a lot of damage before she went down. Unbidden, her power formed a sniper rifle in her hands. Even for her, hitting Purity at top speed was nigh impossible. Far easier to shoot before she moved—Hannah dismissed that temptation out of hand. Perhaps the last couple days had lessened the stigma of lethal force, but she still couldn't justify blowing someone away unprovoked.

"Oh no." Blank had noticed what was going on too. "I don't need to go back up, do I…?"

Luckily for everyone involved, at this point Purity decided she wanted to continue living. The white star retreated back the way it had come with double the speed.


Topic: Red Halloween megathread

In: Boards / Places / America / Brockton Bay

(viewing Page 1 of 136)

[Pinned Post] White Fairy (Veteran Member)

Posted on October 31, 2010

NOTICE: If you're waking up and wondering what the hell happened in Brockton Bay last night (as if the weekend wasn't crazy enough already), start here. I'll try to keep the pinned post updated with what we know. A lot of stuff went down in the middle of the night without many witnesses, so be patient.

Re: thread name, people are coming up with a bunch of names for the history books already, but Red Halloween's my favorite.

Casualty list (WIP)

Dead: Kaiser, Menja, Stormtiger, Lung confirmed KIA at Medhall. Krieg presumed KIA. Lung killed all the Empire capes, still unclear how he died himself. Oni Lee and Fog killed earlier (both by Blank).

Captured: PRT claims Alabaster, Night, Fenja, Hookwolf, Rune, Victor, Othala, Cricket, Crusader (edit: and Mush) all in custody. Hookwolf listed in critical condition. Fenja, Cricket, Crusader listed in serious condition. Others unspecified.

Summary of events (WIP)

As a refresher, the trouble started Friday afternoon with a simple Boardwalk patrol (expand to see more)

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FlippinMad

Replied on October 31, 2010

I leave town for a weekend and this happens, wtf. We lost, what, a quarter of the capes in town? That's Endbringer fight levels!

MSCohen

Replied on October 31, 2010

Damn, reading that list of names feels like a fever dream. The whole Empire's gone! Except Purity, but whatever, close enough. I'm gonna go get drunk now. Looks like Purim came twice this year.

Also, seems fitting that Kaiser spent his final moments trapped in an enclosed space at high temperatures.

prettyokay

Replied on October 31, 2010

MSCohen I feel like I'm going to hell for laughing at this.

If I was Purity, I'd be flying to Argentina right now. Basic pattern recognition and all that.

WalkInThePark

Replied on October 31, 2010

MSCohen tell me about it. Hearing that Lung died still doesn't feel real. Any idea how it happened? The press release doesn't mention it, just that the heroes "neutralized" him.

Brocktonite03

Replied on October 31, 2010

WalkInThePark going off basic pattern recognition, I'm going to bet Blank did it and it was swift but gruesome.

Vid is potato quality, but looks like Lung was there one second and gone the next. Don't see any of the other heroes pulling off an instakill like that.

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comrade chekhov

Replied on October 31, 2010

Red Halloween? More like October Revolution!

Salute to PRT for mass remove capitalist fascist pig-dogs. First time I feel happiness since Behemoth destroy Moscow. I wish success to Comrade Armsmaster Five Year Plan for city.

Laser Augment

Replied on October 31, 2010

Oh God, not you again. At least you learned to capitalize this time.

Then again, one of the city's biggest CEOs just turned out to be a literal Nazi. Maybe the commies were right all along, who tf knows.

Navin333

Replied on October 31, 2010

Yeah, everyone else is freaking out about the dead capes but the Medhall thing is what fucks with me the most. We're talking a multi-million dollar company with hundreds of employees being a gang front, maybe I live under a rock but seems kind of a big deal. Makes you really wonder who you can really trust.

JohnnyBuckets

Replied on October 31, 2010

Navin333 I hear you.

So confession, I've worked at Medhall for 4 years. Before you get the pitchforks out, I'm black, they wouldn't tell me shit. Used to be proud of it, kid from the ghetto making it in a white collar job. Now I just feel sick. I'm going nuts thinking about the friends I referred who never got an interview, the times I got passed over for promo, the other little things that don't add up in hindsight. Wondering how many of my coworkers called me slurs behind my back.

I hope they nail those assholes to the wall.

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xXVoid_CowboyXx

Replied on October 31, 2010

Okay, anyone think this is too convenient or is it just me? I mean, some mystery person just happens to leak the Empire's names, and Lung just happens to attack Medhall right after, and it just happens him and all the Empire get killed? I mean the PRT lets Blank get away with Gray Boy-ing people so who knows how far they'll go! Dang should I even be posting this? Maybe the MIBs are going to come for me!

Screw it the truth is out there! Dragon fire can't melt steel beams! Medhall was an inside job!

(User was banned for this post: Again, stop throwing this kind of accusation around without evidence. Now sit there and think about what you've done.)

Nicky Mac

Replied on October 31, 2010

So you're saying the heroes doxxed the Empire, baited Lung over to Medhall, then nuked the building killing everyone?

Holy shit, if they actually pulled that off I'm not even mad. Absolute 4-D chess stuff. As a certain poster would say, based.

JalenX

Replied on October 31, 2010

Whoever leaked, I'm glad they did it. Yeah, I'm throwing that out there. I know, unwritten rules and all, but I'm out of fucks to give. The two biggest gangs are gone, the bosses are six feet under, and it's thanks to them. If all the unwritten rules do is protect the cape KKK over decent people, to hell with them.

bothad

Replied on October 31, 2010

JalenX uh, I wouldn't go that far. We've got no idea who it was or why they did it. For all we know they might go after heroes next.

And I'm not sure we're safer for it, either. We're 100% going to see new villains rolling into town the next few weeks. I just hope it doesn't get as crazy as Boston.

Bruce Lao

Replied on October 31, 2010

Don't worry, if anyone tries to come in Blank will just kill them. I'm not going to doubt the kid again.


Topic: Blank Defense Squad

In: Boards / Places / America / Brockton Bay / Teams / Wards

(viewing Page 58 of 65)

LaBourneIdentity (New Member)

Replied on October 31, 2010

Hookwolf in critical condition, I see? Homeboy actually came through! Never was much of a hero fangirl tbh but all right, officially joining the bandwagon.

Anyone got video of the takedown? Need it for, uh, research purposes.

SoxFan34

Replied on October 31, 2010

No video, but my uncle's a PRT trooper. He says Blank just grabbed a baton and beat Hookwolf like a piñata. I think so anyways, sounded like he had a few tequila shots to celebrate.

Also said something about Lung, machine guns, and black helicopters but I couldn't make sense of it.

Parsifal

Replied on October 31, 2010

Hookwolf's covered in metal! How the hell would you beat him with a baton?

...ok, I guess the answer is 'with powers', but I still kind of want to call BS

LaBourneIdentity (New Member)

Replied on October 31, 2010

Lmao

Who would win? A Nazi pit fighter whose body is literally made of swords OR some kid with a stick?

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Exploratorium (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 31, 2010

Fact: When a cape has a Kill Order, anyone can kill them and get away with it. Blank has a Reverse Kill Order.

Fact: The Yangban once tried to recruit Blank. He refused because they were too soft on crime.

Fact: If it was up to Blank, a speeding ticket would be worthy of a Kill Order, but he's not completely unreasonable. Overdue library books would only get you sent to the Birdcage.

Fact: When Blank goes on patrol, losing one in four capes is considered a good day.

JalenX

Replied on October 31, 2010

Image

(a meme showing pictures of Legend and Blank, captioned: "What's your message to the villains out there?"

Legend says: Everyone makes mistakes and it's not too late to find redemption

Blank says: kys)

BayDoodler

Replied on October 31, 2010

Lol, keep the memes coming. My contribution here

(What is your opinion on using lethal force?

Legend says: All lives are precious and we should only take one if there is no other choice

Blank says: One strike? Put their head on a spike)


11:12 AM

A new day had come to Brockton Bay, literally and perhaps figuratively too. The city looked different this morning. True, that was mostly due to the Medhall-sized hole in the skyline, but to Emily the sunshine seemed somehow brighter than usual. Maybe it was her imagination. It was remarkable the kind of wonders sleep and a half-dozen dead villains could do for her mood.

Part of her still worried this was all a particularly vivid dream. After years of stagnation, it had only taken two days to flip the board upside down. So many capes who'd seemed untouchable were now confined to the bowels of Protectorate HQ, whether in holding cells or body bags. She'd seen Lung's bullet-riddled body for herself. There was nothing left of Kaiser except a lump of charred bologna entombed in a metal coffin; only checking against Max Anders's dental records had let them confirm his identity. Menja's severed head, still giant in death, had been found on the rubble pile; Fenja was still breathing when they pulled her out and would survive minus both legs. Not even a trace of Krieg's remains had turned up yet. Victor had spent all night sobbing in the fetal position. Hookwolf was still comatose, and according to Panacea might spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair eating through a straw. Her usual disclaimer about brains had sounded unusually vindictive when she said it. And so on and so forth...

Even Purity, the last loose end, had up and vanished. Kayden Anders's apartment was empty and she and her daughter were gone; there were unverified eyewitness reports of a bright light streaking south towards Massachusetts. Emily could hardly blame her for skipping town. It was faintly amusing to imagine what she must have been thinking after rushing to Medhall only to find that clusterfuck.

And just like that, there was effectively no Empire anymore. To be sure, its legacy of racist thuggery would plague the streets for years to come, but the organization that Allfather had founded before Emily even took her post was dead. As for the ABB, it was deader still. With no larger-than-life leader to hold the various Asian factions together, they would divide as quickly as they'd once united.

Still, there was much work to be done. She had to make sure Washington didn't get the wrong idea from all the PHO rumors. She had to find resources to hunt down Medhall's senior executives (it was vital they talked, given how much evidence had likely burned with Kaiser) plus the remaining figureheads of the two defunct gangs before vigilantes got them first. There were already signs of people exacting revenge on their tormentors now that they'd been stripped of cape protection. Just now, she'd read a report of an ABB recruiter found lynched from a fire escape. Despite the crime happening outside a crowded apartment building, no witnesses were coming forth—odd, that.

Also, huge swathes of the city had come under PRT control overnight, and they needed a plan for holding their gains. The Protectorate lacked the bodies to expand patrols so drastically, which meant New Wave would have to be involved in the new order, which meant more politics. And what should they do about the Merchants and other 'minor' gangs? What outside villains would to try and make a power play? Getting the answers wrong could mean the city slid back into chaos. They could ill afford that, not with the next Endbringer attack expected any week. And oh, there was the small matter of the shadow broker who'd exposed the Empire—

There was a knock at her office door. "Director? You asked to see me?"

Emily saved the draft document she was working on and turned to the entrance. "Yes. Come in, have a seat."

Blank let himself in, closed the door behind him, pulled out a chair, and sat. "Good morning, ma'am." he greeted her politely.

Emily blinked before replying in kind. "Ah, good morning." For some reason, she had to remind herself that the boy in front of her had killed Lung last night. Technically he hadn't pulled the trigger, but no one in the know doubted who was mainly responsible. Part of her wanted to get down to business—her time was scarce—but after everything, she felt he was at least owed basic courtesies. "I hope you and the family are doing well?"

That seemed to catch him off guard. "Oh, um, yes. I'm fine. Parents doing well too. I, uh, didn't know how to explain everything, but I told them we won." He shifted in his seat. "Anyways, what did you want to talk about?"

Thank God. Emily suspected they were both equally relieved to dispense with the small talk. "A few things. First, we've found no evidence the ABB was aware of your face or real name. Plus there really isn't an ABB anymore, although there are still plenty of former members on the loose so the risk isn't zero. Still, if you want to go home, I'll allow it. We can arrange for plainclothes agents to keep a watch just in case."

"That would mean unmasking to them, right?"

"They'd need to know who they're supposed to protect, yes." Based on the reports from last night, Emily suspected certain agents would be more than happy to volunteer.

A nod. "I see. Thanks. I'll go back and talk to my parents about it."

"Good. Second thing, now that the emergency is over, it's my duty to inform you're officially on administrative leave. I want to be clear, this is not a punishment. Like I said before, standard procedure whenever a Ward's involved in a fatal incident. That means no patrols or console shifts, but you'll continue to draw pay, and you're not barred from coming to HQ or interacting with PRT personnel. Any questions?"

Any other cape would've objected to being suspended after taking down seven villains in a weekend, but Blank merely shook his head. "No ma'am. I understand."

"You may be happier to hear," Emily continued. "that I'm approving your request for firearms training."

That got him to perk up. "What? I thought—I mean, great, but I thought we weren't supposed to use guns?"

"They're normally discouraged due to raising the specter of lethal force." she agreed. "However after recent events, everyone is going to assume you're capable of lethal force, so you may as well have one to defend yourself."

"Oh." he muttered. "That's not fair, is it? They were accidents. Well, except Lung." he amended. "But that wasn't even my idea…"

"Perception and reality can be very different when it comes to capes." Emily said bitterly. "Often the former matters more. You—you still haven't looked at PHO, have you?"

"No ma'am."

Emily palmed her forehead. "All right. Now that you've got some free time, consider it a homework assignment. Start with the, ah, Blank Defense Squad thread." she felt distinctly silly saying that name. "Should give you a sense of the general mood."

"I have my own thread?"

"Yes. Several. Try not to take it personally. And if you feel the urge to get into an argument with someone, please don't." She trusted he'd be less abrasive online than Shadow Stalker (banned from social media for good reason), but Blank's personality could cause its own problems. Arguing that actually, all his actions met the legal threshold for justifiable homicide and thus it was inaccurate to call him a murderer, felt unlikely to improve his reputation.

Or maybe it would. From the excerpts she'd seen, that thread was a strange one.

He nodded with visible trepidation. Apparently, reading what other people said about him on the Internet was more frightening than Lung. "Yes ma'am."

"That's all from me. You may go." She gestured at the door, and Blank headed out for his de facto paid vacation. Sadly, Emily had no such fortune. She sighed. There went another bundle of questions. Somehow the quiet Ward had become golden boy and problem child alike. She wondered if he realized his chances of being a normal cape (as much as any cape was normal) were pretty much nil. First impressions mattered in their business, and when you disintegrated a man in broad daylight on your public debut—well, it was hard to build a knight-in-shining-armor image after that.

To be honest, she wasn't sure it was worth trying. Sure, they could declassify his power report and explain exactly how everything had been mere circumstance, but at what cost? His weaknesses would be revealed to all and sundry, and given the attention he was attracting Emily wasn't about to do that to him. She had a duty to the parahumans under her, no matter her opinion of their kind. Maybe it was safer to let him remain cloaked in mystery and dread. The suits in DC wouldn't like the optics, but Emily's conscience was clear. What they'd done was justice and no more. If people wanted to let their imaginations run wild, it was their problem. The narrative didn't even seem to be hurting the PRT's image, and wasn't that a funny thing? Usually if a hero was a bit brusque with a star-struck fan or punched a mugger too hard, PHO was all over it. Yet now that they'd convinced themselves the Wards were harboring a ruthless villain-killer, so many seemed willing to not only accept him but celebrate him—to not only excuse his supposed atrocities, but revel in them.

As a representative of the law, Emily couldn't approve of such sentiments. But as for understanding them? Precious few people were above schadenfreude no matter how noble they claimed to be. It was human nature to despise swaggering bullies, especially when it seemed God himself had made them above consequences. There was a dark satisfaction in seeing them knocked off their high horses into the mud, in seeing the pain they'd caused reflected upon themselves.

Oh yes, she understood. She understood better than anyone imagined.


*yawn*...what time is it? Oh well, have another chapter. Nothing clever to say here really. Considered having a fight with Purity, but tbh an anticlimax is more in line with the spirit of this story, plus I don't see her being willing to go full kamikaze for her ex.