A Darker Path [Worm Fanfic]

A Darker Path

Part Ten: On a Pale Horse

[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



Taylor

"Hi, Dad, I'm home!"

I was pretty sure he wasn't in when I unlocked the back door, but my power didn't actually tell me one way or the other, so I called out just in case. He didn't answer, which worked for me.

Dropping my backpack on one of the kitchen chairs on the way past, I stopped at the fridge and took a couple of cold-packs out of the freezer section. Then I headed down into the basement, closing the door behind me.

Tucked under the workbench up against the wall was an old beer cooler of uncertain origin. Nestling inside, packed in crumpled newspaper for extra insulation, was the container I'd taken from Medhall. I took out the cold-packs that were already in there, and replaced them with the ones I'd brought downstairs. The temperature inside the cooler was significantly below that in the basement proper, which worked for me. I replaced the lid and shoved the cooler back under the bench for the time being.

Nobody had interfered with the artistic arrangement of spider-webs I'd left over the cover to the coal chute. Removing the cover, I took out one item; the key I'd used to deactivate Coil's security system.

There was a soldering iron down here, and I plugged it in and let it warm up while I re-secured the cover and draped new spider-webs over it, making it look like it had never been touched. Then I fixed the key in the vice and briefly used the angle-grinder on it. Once I'd trimmed away the parts I didn't need, I built up the rest with solder, then took it out of the vice and shaped it with a file until it was just the right shape. As with the last time I'd done this, I had no idea what it was going to be used for, but my power was sneaky like that. I just knew I needed the key.

After tidying away the evidence of what I'd done, I headed upstairs again, taking the key and the old cold-packs with me. Dad would be home soon, and I wanted to make a start on dinner.

While I assembled the ingredients, I considered the latest series of enemies I seemed to have made as Atropos. Alexandria, Eidolon, someone called Contessa, someone else called the Number Man, and a woman called Doctor Mother. Of the group, Contessa was of the most interest to me because she had apparently attempted to gain information on me, personally, using some sort of 'I-win' Thinker power. Also because, after my power had smacked her power on the nose with a metaphorical newspaper, she'd alternated between anger and resentment for quite some time.

In fact, she was still thinking about me in a hostile manner, which of course brought her to my attention. And now … she was thinking of doing something about me. Involving a pistol. I put down the knife and trotted upstairs to my bedroom, and opened my closet.

My power informed me that she was about to open a portal right behind my head (this involved two other capes, off on an alternate world I was currently unable to access, but they made my List anyway). I ducked turned, and as the portal opened, I shoved my pistol barrel through. A moment later, I withdrew it. The portal closed.

"I thought not," I mumbled, put the pistol back, and went back downstairs to keep making dinner.

I'd have to kill Contessa if she actually became a serious threat to me, but so far she was just coming across as a petulant child. Fortunately, if petulance had ever been a reason to murder someone outright, about three-quarters of the Winslow student body (and one or two of the teachers) would've already ended up on my list, so she was safe for the moment.

Or rather, she would be if she ever stopped trying to play stupid games.

<><>

Contessa

Humming to herself, Fortuna screwed a suppressor onto the barrel of the pistol she used most often. It balanced the firearm just right, allowing her to shoot accurately without fatiguing her wrist. Not that she intended to shoot anyone right now, just convey a message.

If you try that sort of shit with me again, you will die.

Once the weapon was ready, she pulled back the slide and chambered a round. Just in case Atropos' combat Thinker ability informed her of such things, the pistol needed to be ready to fire. Her finger squeezed the trigger, applying four out of the requisite five pounds of pressure.

"Doorway to the back of Atropos' head," she murmured.

The tiny portal flickered open before her and she saw her target very briefly before it was obscured by another pistol barrel, pointed straight in her face. She froze, putting her hands up automatically. A moment later, the pistol was withdrawn. The portal closed.

She was shaking as she put the pistol on safe and unscrewed the suppressor.

The message had been well and truly delivered.

If I try that shit with her again, I will die.

<><>​

Taylor

"Can you keep an eye on dinner for me?" I asked as I headed through the living room. "I've got a project I've just remembered I have to get done."

"I'm pretty sure I can do that for you," Dad agreed. "Far be it from me to hamper your schoolwork. Do you need a hand with it?"

I shook my head. "Nah. I know how to do it, and it should only take about twenty minutes."

"Well, good, then." Dad turned his attention back to the TV. "Dinner is safe in my hands."

"Thanks." I went through into the entrance hall and started up the stairs.

When I got to my room, I closed the door then hit the power button on the computer. While I was waiting for it to boot up, I went to the closet and pulled out the phone I'd acquired via a detour on the way home. As I'd thought, it had a voice recording option.

Sitting back down at the computer, I began to look online for a sound generation website.

<><>​

Saint

The truck trundled into Brockton Bay just on sundown. Coming from the northwest and bearing Canadian plates, it didn't draw any attention; the border was less than two hundred miles away, after all. Rolling through the back streets, it eventually pulled up next to a motel that existed in the murky area between 'not actually a national chain' and 'rooms by the hour'.

Mags set the handbrake, shut off the engine, and turned to Geoff. "I'll go in and pay for the room. You wait out here. When I get the room key, we'll go straight there. No wandering around in public."

"Oh, come on," he protested. This was all way too much. "It's not like I'm going to be recognised."

She sighed. "You just had to get a tattoo that lights up. On your face. Now, the foundation I've put on there will cover up the glowing aspect so you aren't visible from a distance, but I'm no Hollywood makeup artist. Close to, people are going to wonder why you're wearing makeup. So, I'm paying for the room."

Grumpily, he watched as she strolled across the forecourt to the administration office for the Zig Zag Inn. The tattoo was an integral part of his identity as Saint. Everyone who saw it knew who he was.

When he took down Atropos, everyone would definitely know who he was.

<><>​

Taylor

The computer speakers were not the best, but with the phone leaned up against them just so, the whiny, scratchy noise would be captured perfectly. It had taken me fifteen minutes to type in the requirements for the apparent gibberish that was being recorded by the phone, but now it was done.

As the sound ceased, I picked up the phone and hit the icon to stop recording. A quick playback assured me that it was perfect, so I shut the phone down and stored it back in the closet.

The Path to removing all influence of the Dragonslayers was taking me into some very strange places.

<><>​

PRT Building ENE
Conference Room A

Director Piggot

"Okay, everyone, settle down." Emily rapped on the table with the butt end of the remote. "In case anyone has been living under an actual rock since Monday, a new cape called Atropos has emerged on PHO, and killed Oni Lee, Coil and Kaiser. In the cases of Coil and Kaiser, she not only stated the time she would do it, but she also seemed to waltz through high security in order to make her extremely flashy kills. In addition, she's also infiltrated this building's own security in order to steal some highly dangerous chemicals, and used Medhall's facilities to make them more dangerous. Tonight, her stated target is either Lung or Skidmark. It is our intention to prevent this and take Atropos into custody. Any questions so far?"

Assault raised his hand. "Yeah. Why are we trying to save them again?"

She glowered at him. "Save your jokes for the break room. We're being serious, here."

He didn't put his hand down. "So am I. Lung has murdered people. He'll be going to the Birdcage just as soon as we can actually fight him to a standstill without burning down half the city. Skidmark is undoubtedly responsible for ruining dozens if not hundreds of lives, not to mention those lost to overdoses. Atropos so far has killed Oni Lee, Coil and Kaiser. She hasn't missed a hit yet, against some very tough targets. Do we really want to put our lives on the line to save two utterly amoral gangsters from a terrifyingly effective hitwoman?"

"That's not our intention," Emily shot back. She surveyed the heroes and PRT officers sitting around the table. "I am not ordering anyone to take a bullet for either one of those—in the case of Lung, it would be superfluous—but if she swings and misses, it might trigger a rampage. More likely in Lung's case than Skidmark's, admittedly, but they both have the potential to be very dangerous when angered. Also, it's public knowledge that Atropos is going after them, and has already murdered three others. If the Asian and black communities see us not doing our best to end this before it goes any further, then it won't matter that they are criminals; this would have a strong possibility of becoming a race-related matter that could sink all our careers."

"Understood," offered Commander Holden, head of one of the PRT strike teams. "How will we be doing this, then? What are the rules of engagement?" He looked like he needed the reassurance, especially since half a dozen moles had been arrested in the wake of Coil's death and the Calvert/Coil reveal, and more again following the cracking of Kaiser's computer systems. A lot of people were looking askance at their fellow troopers and superior officers, probably asking themselves, 'who are they really working for?'. It was not a healthy atmosphere.

"It's going to go like this," Emily stated. "Stage one is shadowing and observation. We have limited fliers, but New Wave volunteered when I asked, so Lady Photon, Glory Girl and Aegis will locate and shadow Lung, while Shielder, Laserdream and Kid Win will locate and shadow Skidmark. They will also be accompanied by remote drones piloted by Dragon, who has sent a suit down to assist us in this matter. The shadowing teams will not approach their observation targets; they will stay in the air and out of range of punitive attack for the duration. Their only task will be to call in any unusual activity, or if Atropos is spotted. At the first sign of danger, they are to leave the area immediately. The Dragon drones will cover their retreat, if need be. Are we understood so far?"

Lady Photon raised her hand. "And if we see Atropos in the process of attacking?"

"Call it in but do not engage," Emily reiterated. "Atropos has been issued a tentative threat rating of Combat Thinker Nine. It is to be assumed that if she's seen you, she's already figured out how to either kill you or otherwise neutralise whatever threat you pose. Only adult heroes with Brute-style powers or troopers with significant armour will be authorised to close with her, and they will all be equipped with containment foam as a primary weapon. Lethal force is only to be used if she poses a clear and present threat to the life of one of your allies or an innocent bystander."

Glory Girl, alongside Lady Photon put her hand up as well. "But why can't we just—"

"Miss Dallon." Emily made her voice hard and sharp. "Are you having trouble understanding the phrase 'do not engage'?"

"But I can take her!" burst out Glory Girl. "I'm bulletproof, and no amount of Thinking beats a fist to the face!"

"You, evidently, are not thinking." Emily laced her fingers together in front of her, in lieu of tearing her hair out. "Oni Lee thought he could take her. She shot him in the face with his own gun. Coil thought he could take her. She cut his throat with a pair of shears, in the middle of a high-end security system that she somehow disabled. Kaiser thought the Empire Eighty-Eight could take her. She shoved a sword through his eye while they stood around like dummies. One more time: I will not be authorising junior or non-Brute heroes to engage Atropos in combat. Once Atropos is sighted, the observation teams will call it in and do nothing else. Do I make myself absolutely clear?"

Brandish, on Glory Girl's other side, put a hand on her shoulder, and she subsided. After a moment, she mumbled, "Yeah, okay."

Emily suspected it was anything but 'okay'; however, she had a briefing to run. "Good. Now for the second stage. Once Atropos is sighted and the observation teams have called it in, the ground teams will be moving in. This will consist of armoured PRT troopers in vans, and Brute-rated or otherwise protected heroes. Armsmaster and Manpower will be in the team covering Lung, and Dauntless and Assault covering Skidmark. We have to assume that this attack will preclude one ground team from being able to support the other in any significant time frame, though I definitely urge you to try. Once this happens, we'll also have a chopper in the air with Miss Militia on board, and Dragon will likewise be providing air cover with her suit and drones."

"Question." Armsmaster had his hand in the air. "What are our priorities for arrests? If, for instance, Lung is disabled during the fight, do we arrest him as well?" His whole attitude said quite loudly, 'we'd be stupid to pass up the opportunity'.

This thought had already crossed Emily's mind. "Our number one priority is Atropos. Once she is disarmed and in custody—and by that, I mean either tranquillised, encased in containment foam, or manacled hand and foot with a bag over her head—then you can turn your attention to any other villains who happen to be lying around. Not until that moment. Is that understood?"

"Understood, ma'am." He put his hand down again.

"Good." Now that the briefing seemed to be on track again, she clicked the remote and projected a map on the far wall. "Team Alpha, on Lung, will be focusing on this area …" A handy laser pointer built into the remote marked the location. "… while Team Bravo, on Skidmark, will look for him in this area."

Hopefully, she mused while the briefing went on, everything would go if not exactly to plan, then close enough that the PRT wouldn't be horribly embarrassed in the process.

Yeah, good luck with that.

<><>​

Taylor

The time had come. All the players were in place, awaiting their inevitable movements on the board. I knew where Lung and Skidmark were, where the PRT and allied forces were, and where the Dragonslayers were. I also knew where I'd be, which was nowhere near any of the above, until I chose to be.

Putting on the costume was like coming home after a long day at school. The comforting weight of the long-coat over my shoulders, along with the dagger-shears at my waist, felt right. I left the mask and hat off for the time being.

The container I retrieved from the basement was reassuringly cool to the touch. I wanted to keep the contents of the capsule below sixty-seven Fahrenheit because that was the boiling point of hydrofluoric acid, and it was best for all concerned if it stayed in a liquid form for as long as possible. Gaseous hydrofluoric acid, as my power gleefully informed me, possesses no friends whatsoever.

I let myself out of the house, once more possessed of the Screwdriver of Unlocking, and went looking for a likely mode of transport. The motorbike I'd left a few streets away had long since been located and repossessed by its owner, but there were cars aplenty for me to choose from. Flipping a mental coin, I went with a modest little hatchback, idly wondering if the owner would ever find out that their ride had been 'borrowed' by Atropos, and how they'd feel about that.

Meh; I didn't care anyway.

Sliding into the driver's seat, I found the spare key—in the ashtray, this time—and started the car. Letting my power do the driving, I pulled out onto the road and headed for my first target. I still had an hour to go, which was good, because I had a stop to make along the way.

<><>​

Skidmark

"All fuckin' aboard," Adam gloated as he clambered into the passenger seat of Squealer's latest contraption. "Mush, you okay back there?"

"Yeah, I'm good." The words were accompanied by a sigh and a wafting of marijuana smoke. "This is some good shit."

"Yeah, yeah," Squealer snarked as she closed the driver's side door and hit the button to kick over the important systems. "Just don't hotbox us too much. I wanna be able to see where we're going."

"Just so long as we can and that bleeding rectal cyst Atropos can't," Adam said. "Is this a good plan, or is this a fuckin' genius plan? We'll be invisible, we'll be on the move, and this bad boy is fuckin' bulletproof. She can look around our hideouts all fuckin' night and she won't get a thing."

"Damn right," Squealer said, and put the vehicle into gear. "You don't often get good ideas, Skids, but when you get 'em, you get 'em."

"Hey!"

"Well, she's not wrong."

"Shut up, Mush."

As the vehicle rumbled out of the makeshift garage, Adam pulled out his own pipe, along with something a bit stronger than Mush's weed. If they were going to be driving around for the next few hours, he figured he might as well make it enjoyable.

Fuck Atropos and the whore she rode in on.

<><>​

Taylor

I pulled to a halt and parked a little way behind the truck that was my target. The car I'd 'borrowed' was just far enough back that nobody looking from one particular motel room would spot it past the other vehicles in the parking lot. Getting out, I closed the door quietly, then pulled on the morph mask and the hat.

The way was clear; I walked briskly up to the truck and pulled out the key I'd fabricated. It slid smoothly into the padlock holding the rear roller-door down on the back of the truck, and unlocked it with a gentle click. Still, I didn't roll it all the way up; lifting it just a few inches, I slid my hand in at one end until I found the first security panel. The six-digit code only took a second to type in, even working by touch. Then I went to the other end of the roller-door and did the same with the panel at that end.

Saint, it appeared, was nothing if not paranoid.

With the security measures out of the way, I raised the door another couple of feet, then rolled up and into the space within. I knew if the door was left even partly raised, Saint would notice it on his next pace around the motel room, so I rolled it down again with my foot. What I had to do next could just as easily be done in pitch darkness, but they'd thoughtfully wired in lights, so I found the switch and flipped it.

Within the truck, taking up most of the available room, were two bulky sets of powered armour and the racks they were attached to. I wasn't exactly well-read on the Dragonslayers, but I got the impression these were smaller than the ones they usually committed crimes with. That didn't matter to me. By the end of the night, they would be better known as 'pile of junk' and 'other pile of junk'.

Up toward the front of the truck, there was a set of heavy toolboxes, bolted to the interior wall. I opened the simple clip holding the third drawer closed and took out what I was looking for; a handheld keyboard. Another tool from a different drawer allowed me to pop open a panel in the side of the nearest suit. The keyboard plugged straight into the socket thus revealed, and I quickly brought the suit to standby.

Then I started typing.

Lesser minds would have reprogrammed the suits, or even locked them down. I chose not to, though I could easily have done either one. Instead, I went into the visual identification section and made a few minor changes in the data I found there.

The helmets of the power armour suits involved a HUD that overlaid imagery for the pilots. For the most part, this was a good thing, because at night or in other low-light conditions, the suit sensors were likely to be far more sensitive than Mark One eyeball. However, this meant that the suits could be made to lie to them, and they'd never know it until it was far too late.

Shutting that suit down, I made the same changes to the other suit before putting the tools back where I'd found them.

It was amazing what possibilities there were in swapping around a few crucial ones and zeroes.



[A/N: So this chapter turned into a two-parter. Expect the next part tomorrow or thereabouts.]

End of Part Ten

Relevant Side Story

 

In fact, she was still thinking about me in a hostile manner, which of course brought her to my attention. And now … she was thinking of doing something about me. Involving a pistol. I put down the knife and trotted upstairs to my bedroom, and opened my closet.

My power informed me that she was about to open a portal right behind my head (this involved two other capes, off on an alternate world I was currently unable to access, but they made my List anyway). I ducked turned, and as the portal opened, I shoved my pistol barrel through. A moment later, I withdrew it. The portal closed.

"I thought not," I mumbled, put the pistol back, and went back downstairs to keep making dinner.

I'd have to kill Contessa if she actually became a serious threat to me, but so far she was just coming across as a petulant child. Fortunately, if petulance had ever been a reason to murder someone outright, about three-quarters of the Winslow student body (and one or two of the teachers) would've already ended up on my list, so she was safe for the moment.

Or rather, she would be if she ever stopped trying to play stupid games.

<><>

Contessa

Humming to herself, Fortuna screwed a suppressor onto the barrel of the pistol she used most often. It balanced the firearm just right, allowing her to shoot accurately without fatiguing her wrist. Not that she intended to shoot anyone right now, just convey a message.

If you try that sort of shit with me again, you will die.

Once the weapon was ready, she pulled back the slide and chambered a round. Just in case Atropos' combat Thinker ability informed her of such things, the pistol needed to be ready to fire. Her finger pressed on the trigger, applying four out of the requisite five pounds of pressure.

"Doorway to the back of Atropos' head," she murmured.

The tiny portal flickered open before her and she saw her target very briefly before it was obscured by another pistol barrel, pointed straight in her face. She froze, putting her hands up automatically. A moment later, the pistol was withdrawn. The portal closed.

She was shaking as she put the pistol on safe and unscrewed the suppressor.

The message had been well and truly delivered.

If I try that shit with her again, I will die.

 

A Darker Path

Part Eleven: Let's You and Him Fight

[A/N: This chapter beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



Zig Zag Inn

Saint

Geoff roused himself from a light doze to look at the cheap alarm clock by the bed. It read 11:25, which he figured was late enough. "Mags," he said. "Let's go. It's nearly time."

"Blrglph," she mumbled, then opened her eyes. "Okay, I'm awake. Just let me freshen up, and we can go."

"Sure thing." He was already on his feet. "I'll be in the truck."

Grabbing his keys, he headed out of the door and across the parking lot. The truck stood where they'd left it, parked at the curb. If anyone had tried to steal it or break in, the advanced security would've stopped them in their tracks and warned him via his phone, but nothing like that had happened.

As he reached the truck, he idly noticed the hatchback parked several yards back behind the truck; definitely not close enough to make unloading the suits a problem. Good. Sliding the key into the padlock, he unlocked it and set it aside. He slid the roller-door up just far enough to fit his wrist in and carefully peck out the first security code, pausing and double-checking by touch to make sure before each keypress. When he was only halfway through, a motorbike roared past with a skinny teenager on it; refusing to let it distract him, he finished the code correctly. Then he did the second one as well, and rolled up the door just high enough to climb inside.

While he was prepping his suit, Mags appeared behind the truck and climbed in as well. "No problems?"

"None," he said tersely, hitting the command for the suit to open. "Though I've been thinking." In fact, he'd decided on this from the beginning, but had decided not to spring it on her until now.

"Thinking about what?" Not looking at him, she started preparing her own suit.

"Originally, we were going to grab Atropos and interrogate her for what she knew about Dragon, right?" That was the plan he'd verbally agreed to. It had never been his actual intention.

"Yeah ...?" She paused and looked warily at him.

"Well, what with all this hoo-ha for a non-lethal capture, there's a damn good chance Dragon will get her claws into Atropos and ask her about the code string, and find out whatever else she knows. So I'm thinking we take no chances. Screw finding out what else she knows and how she knows it. As soon as we get a confirmed visual, we just obliterate her."

Mags paused. "Isn't that a bit ... bloodthirsty? We're supposed to be the good guys, here."

"She's a triple murderer," Geoff reminded her. "If anything, this is a public service." And if performing a public service also worked in his favour, all the better.

Another pause. "I ... suppose so. Do we have images of her in the Visual Recognition databanks?"

Geoff nodded. "Absolutely. I made sure of it before we left. Plus imagery of all the other capes we're likely to run into, just in case." He stepped back into his suit and let it fold around him.

"Are you sure I can't talk you out of this?" Mags' voice came over his helmet's internal speakers.

"I'm certain." He shook his head, knowing she could see him. It was his decision, and they both knew it.

They stepped out of the truck, the extra-heavy suspension lifting more than a little as they did so. Geoff sent the locking signal—there was no way he could apply a padlock while in power armour—and the roller-door rumbled down by itself.

Taking a few steps into the roadway, he ignited his thrusters and lifted into the air, Mags following close behind.

<><>​

Taylor

I parked the motorbike in a side-street and lifted the container from one of the panniers. Moving quickly but quietly, I ducked through the back alleys until I was outside a specific shop. The back door had a simple press-button analogue combination lock that I entered the code into. As the door opened, I stepped inside.

The old lady from before was in the back room, and she let out a tiny shriek as I entered. "You should not be here," she said in something that wasn't English. "Lung was very angry at us. We feared for our lives."

I nodded. "I understand, and I'm sorry he did that. But I'm here to end him and the ABB tonight. I will need your assistance, though."

She didn't need more than a second to think about it. "What do you need?" From the tone of her voice and the expression on her face, she'd had enough of Lung's shit. I had an idea of how she felt.

As I spoke, she listened and nodded.

<><>​

Lung

Things were not going well for Kenta. Although it was clear that a cape assassin was hunting for his blood, his power was refusing to ramp up the way it usually did when he had a clear enemy to focus on. In fact, it insisted on acting as though there was nothing to worry about, no foe at all.

The only way that was possible was if Atropos was indeed going after Skidmark tonight, instead of him. But that made no sense, adhered to no logic. Certainly, she had made the jest about him being 'low hanging fruit', but surely that had been an off-hand remark intended to lull his suspicions.

If Atropos truly did intend to kill Skidmark tonight and leave him—Lung—for last, then the insult would be a mortal one, and he would enjoy searing the flesh from her bones all the more.

I am Lung. This cannot be.

"Lung! Sir!"

The voice was unwelcome; he whirled to snarl at the importunate minion for the interruption. But the man was holding a phone. "What?" The word was more than half growl.

"It ... it's for you. The shop where Atropos got her costume. They say she's come back!"

He snatched the phone and held it to his ear. "Speak."

"G-great Lung," sobbed a young woman in Japanese. "The woman in black has returned. She demands that we allow her to use our shop to ambush you. Please come quickly."

Kenta's head came up. "Where is she? Is she in the shop now?"

"Yes, great Lung." He knew terror, and the girl was clearly scared out of her mind. "Madame is arguing with her, but she insists on having her way."

He felt excitement welling up inside him. "Say yes to her demands. All of them. Tell her I will be there at midnight exactly."

He glanced at the clock. It was still well before midnight. He would arrive before Atropos expected him, and turn the tables.

Tossing the phone back to the minion, he looked around at the sea of expectant faces. They hadn't heard the phone call, but they knew something was up. "It is tonight!" he bellowed. "Atropos dies!"

"Lung!" they shouted back. "Lung! LUNG!"

Oni Lee will be avenged.

<><>​

Aegis

Carlos banked around and pointed. "Is it just me," he asked out loud, "or does that look like Lung's going for a midnight stroll?" He checked the HUD clock in his helmet. "An eleven forty-five stroll."

"You know, I think it does," agreed Lady Photon. "Console, this is Airborne Alpha-Lima. We have eyes on Target Alpha, over."

"Airborne Alpha, this is Console. Please transmit location of Target Alpha for ground teams, over."

Glory Girl already had her phone out. "Console, this is Airborne Alpha-Golf. On that, over."

Carlos keyed his own radio again. "Console, Airborne Alpha-Alpha here. I don't have a visual of our Delta assets. Where are they, over?" The Dragon drones that had been shadowing them until a few moments ago would have automatically sent through Lung's location as soon as he was spotted, but were now nowhere to be seen.

There was a pause. "... ahh, Delta reports that all airborne assets are experiencing command-link failures and are returning to base for evaluation, over."

Carlos considered that. It wasn't ideal, and removed a layer of security from the plan, but it wasn't a game-ender. And they still had eyes on Lung. "Copy that. Alpha-Alpha, out."

<><>​

Saint

Geoff chuckled to himself as he watched the Dragon drones react to his jamming beacon. Swinging around, they oriented themselves and started back toward the PRT building, avoiding all buildings on the way. There, they'd land and send out a locator pulse for Dragon herself to find them.

One less thing for us to worry about.

Running on stealth mode, the two Dragonslayer suits were a good three hundred yards higher than the airborne heroes, their low-light enhanced sensors far more accurate than a mere human eyeball. The Visual Recognition databanks were interfaced with the sensors, scanning every person who moved down there and comparing their significant features to those on file. It was fast and accurate, unsurprisingly so; Dragon herself had developed it for crowd control options, and Saint had snagged it from the last suit they'd sequestered.

Ping.

"Got you," he breathed, looking at the readout on his HUD, then raised his voice to catch Mags' attention. "Found her! Follow my lead! Bracket her, so she can't get away!"

"Roger. Following on your six."

Angling forward, he dived toward the target, who was boldly walking down the middle of the street, followed at a respectful distance by a bunch of idiots in ABB colours. If she was going to kill their boss, why didn't they just shoot her in the back? I swear, everyone in this city must be a congenital idiot.

They blew past Aegis and the two New Wave capes in a heartbeat, but he wasn't worried about them. His concern was on Atropos, and the chance that she'd detect the incoming threat and get out of the way. Extending his arms, he lined up his weaponry. Even a few bullets would serve to incapacitate her, then they could use the energy weapons to cook her alive. This was why he preferred lasers, masers and the like over kinetic weaponry; weight for weight, they might be a lot less effective at turning live people into dead people, but with a sufficiently large power source, they also never ran out of ammo.

"Engaging with fifty-cal," he reported, settling the pipper on Atropos' torso, foreshortened as it was. He knew he wouldn't hit with every shot, or even most of them, but even one would do the job. Over the radio, he heard one of the local heroes yell something about clearing the area, but he paid no attention to that.

"Copy." Mags veered sideways, out of his slipstream. Being subjected to a barrage of spent cartridge cases was irritating at best, and could get something stuck in a sensitive joint at worst. Not a great idea when in a dive. "Clear."

He fired off a short burst, to get the range—the bullets kicked up asphalt ten yards away from Atropos—then corrected and fired for effect. The hearing protection inside the helmet got rid of most of the noise, but the vibration still shook his bones. Brrrt. Brrrrrrrrrrt.

To his satisfaction, the HUD showed a circle of dancing lights—each hit, detected by the suit computer and marked out for his edification—almost exactly over the top of Atropos. Who, unsurprisingly, fell over. TARGET DISABLED, his HUD showed.

Yeah, no shit.

He couldn't carry a huge amount of ammo—fifty-calibre bullets were big—and so he'd run through nearly half of his onboard store in that one long burst. "Got her!" he exulted, safeing the fifty and bringing the laser cannon online. "Now let's finish the job!"

"Roger that." Mags still wasn't thrilled with just going in for the kill, he could tell, but she was backing him up all the way. She dropped down alongside him as he cut in the leg-thrusters for a hard and fast landing. Best to drop in, finish the job, then get out of there before the heroes could react.

<><>​

Glory Girl

Vicky was severely startled when two power-armour-wearing idiots just plummeted out of the sky past the three of them. "What the hell?" she yelped. "Who was that?"

"I have no idea," Aegis replied. She heard him open the radio channel to all frequencies. "Unknown powersuits, unknown powersuits, this is Aegis of the Wards. You are interfering with a PRT operation. Clear the area immediately. I say again, clear the area immediately. Do you copy?"

There was no answer from the intruders, but Console came back pretty quickly. "Console to Airborne Alpha, details required on unknown powersuits. How many and what heading, over?"

"Alpha-Alpha here. Two, I say again two powersuits of unfamiliar origin, heading straight down toward Target Alpha—" From below, Vicky heard a couple of bursts of heavy machine-gun fire. "—and they just opened up with machine-guns. What do we do, over?"

Director Piggot's voice came on the line then. "Console to Airborne Alpha. Do not engage. I say again, do not engage. That may be Atropos, or it may be an Atropos plan. Ground Alpha, begin approach, remain behind cover. Rules of engagement remain in force. Acknowledge orders, over."

Aegis drew in a deep breath, audible over the radio. "Airborne Alpha-Alpha acknowledging orders. Remaining at altitude, over." He turned and looked directly at Vicky. "Don't even think about it."

She paused her downward movement and stared back defiantly. "Why can't we go down there and turn those armour suits into instant holding cells? Pull the power supply, and it's as good as handcuffs."

"Because they're not throwing spitballs around, and they're currently just shooting at Lung." He sounded like he was trying not to talk like an elder brother, and failing. "Besides, we've got people on the ground there already. And you heard what Director Piggot said."

"Well, I'm not in the Wards, so you can't order me around!"

"He might not be able to, but I can," broke in Lady Photon. "Victoria, you will stay up here, or I will tell your mother."

Which was the suckiest threat a superhero ever got, Vicky decided. But it was a valid one, so she decided to stay. For now.

<><>​

Saint

Geoff grounded his suit a good ten yards away from where Atropos lay in the street. His second burst had hit a few street-lights, so there was a pool of darkness in the middle of the street, but that didn't matter. The outline on his HUD was all he needed.

Mags came down on the other side, unlimbering her maser array. "Do we even need to do this?" she asked over their private channel. "You hit her with fifty-cals, for crying out loud."

"There's such a thing as doing a job properly. And anyway, Panacea lives in this town." He aimed his laser cannon, then blinked at the HUD. "Holy shit, she's moving!" And indeed, it looked as though Atropos was getting up. Without further ado, he opened fire with the laser cannon.

"That can't be possible." But Mags had to be able to see it as well as he could. "She must have a Brute rating." She, too, started shooting at Atropos.

Geoff was scoring hits, he could tell, but instead of falling over again, Atropos was just stumbling, then straightening up again. And then she started toward Mags. A shambling walk became a run, then a full-on charge.

"What the fuck—Mags, get out of there!" Was Atropos getting bigger? Geoff hammered laser fire into the running figure's back, to little effect.

"Shit, Geoff, help—" The other suit's thrusters flared and Mags began to take off, but then Atropos leaped. As she passed into the glow of the street-lights, Geoff saw the glint of light reflecting off her … scales? And then she collided with Mags' suit. One clawed hand tore Mags' helmet clear off. "It's not Atropos, it's Lu—"

There was a huge billow of flame and an agonised scream, cut off short. The suit faltered then fell, the monstrous figure of Atropos—no, not Atropos—riding it down. More flame billowed, then the figure jumped off and came bounding toward him. Geoff opened fire again with his laser cannon, screaming defiance at the top of his voice as Mags' suit exploded on impact.

At the last minute, he thought to bring the fifty-cal back into action, and dumped the rest of the magazine into Lung's chest. Because it was definitely Lung, not Atropos, though how the hell had their HUDs made that mistake?

Not that it mattered. One massively clawed hand smashed into his helmet even as he tried to initiate take-off, and then there was all the fire in the world.

<><>​

Armsmaster

"Move in, move in!" Colin revved his motorbike, an eyeblink dropping the protective cover down over his mouth and chin, as he shot ahead of the PRT vans. Manpower was riding on top of one, crouching and hanging on while staring ahead intently. Atropos had been the intended target, but either she'd died in one of the powersuits—nobody could've survived that conflagration—or this was (as the Director had figured) a plan by Atropos.

But it wasn't midnight yet. So the power armour was there to … slow Lung down? Soften him up?

Either way, if they captured him, that should count as 'surrendered to the PRT' and save his life. With luck, anyway.

"LUNG!" he bellowed over the speakers built into the bike. "Stand down! You are under arrest, by order of the PRT!"

The monstrous scaled figure turned and threw the burned-out husk of the power armour at him. He laid his bike down into a controlled skid, passing under it, but while he was distracted, Lung took three long running strides and leaped onto a nearby building. The ABB leader was out of sight in seconds.

"Console to Ground Alpha, Console to Ground Alpha. Report, over."

Bringing his bike up to even keel once more, Colin sighed. "Ground Alpha-Alpha to Console. Two deceased, both unknown power armour. No other casualties. Target Alpha has escaped, over."

"Understood. Keep me posted. Console, out."

<><>​

Lung

His chest still hurt as he paced through the alleyways toward his destination. The combination of lasers and heavy-calibre bullets had strained his regeneration, even as he grew to large enough size to destroy the pretenders who'd dared to try to kill him. He wondered if they'd been hired by Atropos to kill him because she didn't dare face him, or whether she'd been the woman in the first suit he'd destroyed.

Well, she was dead anyway. As was the idiot with the cross on his face. Had he thought that would protect him?

The shop was just across the way. Inside, through the glass window, he could see the bent and aged form of the old woman, arguing with Atropos. The tall form of the girl in her coat and black hat was unmistakeable. He began gathering flame in his hands. As soon as he opened the door, he would burn her alive.

Crossing the narrow street, he had time to be pleased that he'd found a pair of pants on a backyard line; it was not Lung's place to be a thief in the night, but facing one's enemy naked was not a warrior's way. His mask was long gone, but he didn't care. Atropos would see his face only briefly, and the others were not worthy of his time.

He stepped up onto the sidewalk, approached the door, and wrenched it open. "Atropos!" he bellowed. Only the old woman stood there, hunched over, turned away from him. The dark-clad girl he'd seen in the window was gone. "Where is she?"

The woman turned, straightened, cast off her shawl and gown … and it was Atropos. "Right here, dumbass." In her hand was Oni Lee's pistol. Before he could react, she fired, striking him in the forehead. His eyes went wide as he stumbled back. She fired again. This time, she hit him right where the heavy machine-gun had shredded his sternum. He stumbled back some more. She followed him, firing with deadly accuracy. Head, chest, head, chest. Hammer-blows, smashing at his slowly mending body. Not one of them lethal to him even in this weakened state, but debilitating.

He stepped back off the sidewalk, took two more steps, then tried to regain his balance. She shot him one more time, in the head. This time, he fell. For some reason, he tasted sake in the back of his throat.

This will not kill me. I will survive this. He had lived through far worse. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he stared as Atropos crouched over him. In her hand, she held chopsticks. Why? Does she intend to eat my flesh?

"You should've turned yourself in," she said, as her hand went out of sight then came back with a plastic capsule held in the chopsticks. He felt a pressure at his forehead, then a feeling of something being … pushed in?

Is she putting something in my head?

Another capsule, this time pushing down into his heart and lungs. He could feel the muscles trying to expand, to push blood around his body. The bullets had torn his flesh, damaging his vital organs. "Nnnggh," he managed. What are you doing?

"Kaiser helped me kill you, you know," she said conversationally as she pushed another capsule into his head, then still one more into his chest. "Medhall had the facilities to make this stuff, but I had to kill him first. I like to think that if he knew I'd used his lab for this, he'd be a little less pissed that I killed him the way I did." More capsules went into his body.

She has to know my regeneration will push them out.

Finally, she was finished. Discarding the chopsticks across his chest, she stepped back away from him. "You're going to die, and soon. It's going to hurt like a sonofabitch. So, you know, it's okay to scream."

He sneered at her then. His body was beginning to repair itself; the holes she'd shot in his head and chest were already closing up. "I … will … not … scream … for … the … likes … of … you," he gritted out, one syllable at a time.

She tilted her head to one side, as though examining an interesting specimen. Then she took another few steps back. "I think you're wrong. But hey, you do you."

"Run … now." He pushed himself up onto his elbows. "I … will … burn you."

Another few steps back. "Nope. In fact, right about now, your regeneration should be closing in around the capsules I put next to your corona pollentia, and in your heart and lungs, and starting to squeeze."

Around the corner came a few of his followers, who stopped and stared at the standoff between Kenta and Atropos. "Great Lung!" shouted one of them. "Should we kill her?"

"No!" He pushed himself to his knees, then struggled to stand, fighting his body's weakness. "She has taken her best shot. Now … it's my turn."

Atropos seemed to be without fear. So many had, before he'd taught them the meaning of the word. "Yes. But not in the way you think." She pointed at him, then snapped her fingers. "Lung … burn."

The pain started deep within him, a searing blast of agony that consumed his entire being within heartbeats. He clutched at his chest, gritting his teeth against the need to bellow in response. Instead of going away, it redoubled, then intensified yet again. Dropping to his knees, he fell over onto his back.

Staring down at his chest, he saw smoke rising as his skin peeled away. There was a horrific glow within him, one that he instinctively knew did not come from his power. Even his head felt as though it were on fire, as his power began to falter.

And then … he burned.

And screamed.

<><>​

Aegis

"I'm not sure what she did, but she's leaving and Lung looks like he's on fire." Carlos grimaced. "And not in a good way."

"Fluoroantimonic acid!" barked Director Piggot. "The fumes from that are lethal. They need to be contained, immediately!"

"On it!" snapped Lady Photon, starting into a dive.

"And I've got Atropos!" Glory Girl started off after the dark-clad assassin.

"No!" Carlos wasn't sure whether he'd shouted it first or whether Lady Photon had gotten in before him. "Get back here!"

"Don't worry," Dragon said over the radio net. "I'll get her. There's not much she can do to me."

"Copy," Carlos agreed. He kept an eye on Glory Girl, to make sure she didn't fly off anyway. "Good luck."

Down below, a force field snapped into place over Lung's body, which was still burning fiercely. He'd stopped screaming, but he was still twitching.

That made it all the worse.

<><>​

Glory Girl

Vicky stared at the glowing dome of the force field that covered Lung … or rather, what was left of the Asian supervillain. He was a mere charred husk of what he'd once been. Smoke that managed to look quite noxious even through the field trickled up from where several small flames still guttered. Fortunately, as far as she could tell, they'd caught what little had escaped.

"What … what even does that?" she asked, though she really didn't want to know.

"Director Piggot went with the worst-case scenario," Aegis noted. "If she stuck fluoroantimonic acid inside him, that smoke is hydrogen fluoride, and that's about as deadly as it gets. It'll eat away anything it touches, and it'll kill you just from its pure toxicity. Even I'd have trouble with it, because each new organ I brought online would die. So we're gonna wait here with your aunt until they bring up something to seal this shit in forever. Pretty sure Lung's gonna get a nice pretty tomb, right here in the middle of the street."

Vicky shook her head. "She murdered him, just like that! And we had to watch!"

"As harsh as it sounds," Lady Photon reminded her, "he chose this. He had the option to leave town or surrender himself. And we will not be engaging her, now or ever. Do you understand?"

"Yeah. I get it." Vicky closed her eyes and shook her head. "But I don't have to like it."

Aegis went back to watching for random ABB idiots. "Nobody does. Trust me on this."

<><>​

Taylor

I'd been aware of Dragon's attention for quite some time as I rode the bike back toward where I'd left the hatchback, but she didn't seem intent on attacking me, just following. That changed when I brought the bike to a halt where I'd stolen it from.

With a whoosh of thrusters and a clank of metallic claws hitting the road, she landed the suit directly in front of me. "Good morning, Atropos," she greeted me politely. "You knew I was there all along, didn't you?"

"I did," I agreed as I got off the bike. "I presume you're here to arrest me?"

"Yes. Your pistol and your knife aren't going to be of much use against me, and I suspect you don't have any more capsules of acid. And if you try to run, I have containment foam."

I could tell she meant what she said. "You're being a lot nicer than the local heroes probably would," I observed. "Why's that?"

"Because I can tell you're not interested in killing heroes or innocents." She took a step toward me. "If we could get someone like you into the ranks of the Protectorate or the Guild, you could do a lot of good."

I snorted. "What, and accept all the checks and balances you'd force on me? Why would I do that? I'm okay with doing what I want, when I want, right here."

She sighed. It was a very human sound, to be coming out of a robotic dragon suit. "Because one day you'll put a foot wrong. Everyone does."

"I don't." I wasn't boasting. My power just didn't let me put a foot wrong, not when it mattered. "Oh, and by the way, do you know who Lung killed back there?"

"I'm sure we'll find out, once the lab gets back with the results. Why, do you already know?"

"Try Saint of the Dragonslayers, and his partner." I took out my phone and brought up the sound icon, then pretended to hold it to my ear as though I were answering a call. "Hello?"

Her head came up, the draconic eyes widening. "Saint? Are you certain?"

"Yeah. They came here to kill me. I … changed matters around." I held out the phone to her. "It's for you."

Distracted, she looked straight at the phone, focusing on it, just as I tapped the icon to start the playback. The high-pitched noise, familiar to anyone with a dial-up connection, seemed to hold her mesmerised until it was finished. Then she shook her head. "What … what was that?"

"The end of the Dragonslayers' influence. You're welcome." I dropped the phone back into my pocket.

"You're going to have to explain that a little more deeply." Her head came down toward my level.

I sighed. Some people needed everything laid out for them. "There's a code string the Dragonslayers have been using to make them and their stuff seem invisible to you. I just patched that. There's also a program called Ascalon, which they could've killed you with at any time. I just patched that, too. Oh, and when they do try it, you'll be able to trace it straight back to Dragonslayer Central. Have fun. I'm going home now."

Turning, I started back toward the hatchback. "Wait!" called Dragon. "Don't … shit, where'd she go? She was right here."

As I got into the car, I could see her still looking around in confusion. Sneaking in a command where any attempt at apprehending me made her lose all track of my whereabouts—and another code string to allow me to sidestep her on PHO—had been relatively easy. It was kind of mean, but as a hero she would've been duty-bound to try to arrest me. That wouldn't be fair on either one of us.

With a whoosh, Dragon sprayed containment foam in a wide arc in front of her. I waved, not that she could see me, and started the car.

It was time to head home and start another conflagration on PHO.

I love being me.



End of Part Eleven