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A Ruinous Gift by Noodlehammer

Warhammer & Worm Xover Rated: M, English, Crime, Words: 298k+, Favs: 3k+, Follows: 4k+, Published: Sep 20, 2023 Updated: Jan 28

2,397Chapter 21: Misdirection

Kudos to Alvor for looking this over

XXXXX

April 21st, 2011.

On the mean streets of Brockton Bay, a secret war was being fought, hidden in the shadows of parahuman battles. On the front lines of this war was… a tiny clothing store operated by a middle-aged Mexican woman that specialized in hand-made traditional dresses, but was willing to take commissions for other stuff as well.

The only reason this was remarkable was because the store was opened in a location that was once hotly contested territory between the Empire 88 and the ABB, and therefore not welcoming to Hispanics in the slightest. Plus, a discerning thinker might wonder where the money for such a thing came from.

The trio of very stereotypical skinheads with swastika tattoos on their necks were not discerning thinkers. Indeed, one might argue that they were not thinkers at all, given that they had decided to go all in with a much hated ideology that had, at best, dubious chances of success even locally, never mind regionally.

"We don't want your kind here, stealing jobs from good Americans." They cried, showing a profound lack of understanding of how the free market operated.

Though they had come unprepared to debate economics, they were very prepared to bolster their arguments with violence.

Too bad for them that Taylor had predicted this situation. Indeed, she had helped the store owner set up where she was specifically to provoke something akin to it. In fact, this little Mexican clothing store was just one of many small businesses that she was sponsoring all over the city.

Max Anders might like his large business that was easier to control, but she preferred to spread out and diversify. Not only did it make good bait for idiot gang thugs, but it was also a great way of circulating money around the community.

The government had no idea that they were paying her. Oh sure, all of these businesses were paying taxes, but between applying for subsidies, tax breaks, and making numerous under the table deals with what was essentially herself, there was more money coming in than going out. Not much more, but adding it on the the profits from the criminal side of things and it was nicely plugging the financial bleed from her generosity in sponsoring so many people.

And all of it was going unnoticed because she had little interest in luxury and was instead re-investing into the local economy.

But that wasn't relevant right now. What was currently relevant was the fact that, before the three skinheads could really begin engaging in recreational vandalism, five men zoomed in on hoverbikes.

Unseen by all, Oni Lee also appeared on a nearby rooftop, very expensive camera and directional microphone in hand.

The Empire thugs were surprised by this, but still prepared to defend themselves. They were expecting some good old fashioned fisticuffs, as was the unspoken agreement. There might be lost teeth, broken bones, perhaps even death, but there was a certain etiquette to these things.

They instead received shocks from a taser. Then, once they were on the ground, they got their hands ziptied, were depantsed, and covered in glitter, before being force-marched back towards Empire territory.

All the while, One Lee was filming. And he wasn't the only one. Many a bystander fished out their phone and filmed the procession of bedazzled Empire goons being paraded down the streets for all to laugh at.

This was very much not how the game was played. Violence and injury was one thing, that was expected. Although they were low level thugs, having them be publicly humiliated like this was something that Kaiser couldn't allow. If he didn't retaliate, then the Empire, and he by extension, would be a laughing stock.

And thus his plans for a carefully coordinated assault were ruined, because he had to go save and avenge a trio of idiots.

XXXXX

Taylor was not visibly on the scene, but she was paying close attention to the escalating shitshow and waiting for the right moment to step in. The sheer amount of posturing and theater involved in being a villain, especially a boss villain, was ridiculous.

The original three stooges of the Empire 88 and her own fast response hoverbike squad had long since vacated the premises.

Right now, they had Hookwolf and Stormtiger being contained by Lodestone and Bitch. Rachel had nearly hung up her cape altogether now that she had a big dog park to look after and no money concerns, but the chance to kill notorious dog abusers would still bring her out to play.

Sherrel was also on the field, having rolled up in a big truck that was now acting as a sort of mobile base.

A recently healed Cricket was trying to carve up a grinning Regent, who was constantly giving her muscle spasms and making her effectively useless. Any time that she managed to get close, Trickster, who was hiding behind the truck's force field, would swap either her position or Regent's with something.

Judging by the fury she was outputting into the Empyrean, that was as frustrating as it looked.

Rune arrived on a large metal plate, carrying Krieg and Crusader with her. The latter's ghosts started spreading out and the former touched the top manhole from the stack of them she had prepared, launching it at one of the dogs.

Taylor had long since telepathically warned Lodestone about the danger, so he was easily able to intercept the projectile. And now he had a big metal plate to smack Hookwolf with. Frankly, the sand monster he had started out as was starting to look a bit shiny from all the steel he was incorporating.

Crusader's ghosts could be problematic, however. It was time to escalate again.

Taylor entered the scene as Noelle, features hidden behind a spider mask that hid the upper part of her face and a long white wig. For a costume, this body only wore a black and red corset that matched the colors of the Travelers. The pants were just pants.

For reasons that became obvious once Taylor triggered the transformation she and Amelia had worked together to create for that body.

The pants and shoes ripped as everything below the waist transformed into a monstrous arachnid body. Looming four meters tall, 'Noelle' spread her arms and threw her head back in a challenging shout.

"Come face Arachne!" She said dramatically, because cape fights were at least 40% theater.

The Empire capes were surprised by this development this development, having no idea of Noelle's existence before now. Rune launched one of the manhole covers, its speed enhanced by Krieg's power.

It was something that could every easily be fatal. With as much force as the spinning metal disc had, even its blunt edge could take a man's head off. But Arachne was a serious Brute and caught the manhole cover with her bare hand. What little damage it did healed almost immediately.

Instead of throwing it back at them, Taylor tossed it at Hookwolf, subtly enhancing the Brute-rated throw with psychokinetic force. It hit the Empire's Changer with a resounding clang, sending him flipping over like a kicked dog.

"You wanna fucking go?!" Hookwolf roared, his voice the grating of metal on metal. "I'll rip your fucking legs off!"

He clearly wasn't upset about the prospect of a fight, even though his battle against Lodestone and Bitch's dogs hadn't been going anywhere.

The wolf-shaped mass of blades disengaged from that stalemate and charged towards her. He was clearly intending to go under the spider body and do as he had threatened.

Taylor let him do it, but before he could pass through, she dropped down like an anvil. The multi-ton weight of the Noelle body pinned him under it.

"You didn't think it would be that easy, did you?" She asked with a grin, feeling the numerous wounds rapidly closing.

"Big mistake." Hookwolf growled and started spinning his metal around like the memetic murder blender he was known as on PHO.

Well away from the fight, Taylor allowed multiple iteration of her body to shudder in pleasure at the sensation of having her flesh carved up.

"Was it?" She spoke mockingly, digging her arachnid legs into the ground and pinning him down. Blood and severed flesh flew everywhere, soaking everything in a three meter radius in gore, but it didn't actually help Hookwolf escape since she was regenerating just as fast.

Crusader's ghosts flew at her and began stabbing their spears into the human part of her body. Blood flowed from under the corset, but the wounds healed just as rapidly.

"NO!" Trickster yelled and tried to approach.

"STAY ON TASK!" Taylor yelled through the Noelle body, furious at his breaking of discipline.

Trickster, long conditioned to obey Noelle's orders, swallowed down his bile at seeing his girlfriend getting sliced up so brutally and went back to paying attention in case anyone needed a swap.

Damned idiot. Taylor was seriously tempted to 'adjust' his mind so that he would stop being so obsessive about Noelle.

"Krieg, she's healing!" Crusader yelled, pointing out the obvious.

"I can see that." Kreig replied calmly and raised a finger.

A moment later, Noelle's had a fist-sized hole in her chest. The crack of a high powered sniper rifle firing followed milliseconds later.

Everything stopped for a moment as they took in this development.

"NOELLE!" Trickster roared in grief.

Grief that quickly disappeared as the wound regenerated.

"Oh, is that how you want to play it?" 'Noelle' hissed angrily, ripping off the ruined corset and leaving herself topless. "Very well, then."

In truth, she was extremely pleased. The more brutal the Empire looked, the better for her. That was why she hadn't disabled Hookwolf's powers.

She raised herself up and then slammed herself back down with all the force her Brute rating allowed, making the ground shake from the impact. Hookwolf, who had still been pinned under her and was now completely soaked in gore, was flattened against the asphalt.

He grunted in pain, many of the blades making him up bent or broken. 'Noelle' took far more damage, of course, but regenerated instantly.

'Noelle' did it again, and again, and again. She kept doing it until Hookwolf was indented into the ground and looking like he'd been put into one of those car crusher machines. He was already trying to fix himself, so she started spraying webbing from the fully functional spinneret at the back of her spider butt.

Amelia did excellent work, so the webbing was far tougher than normal spider webbing. Brute-rated webbing.

The other Empire capes were too busy to help Hookwolf, so he was neatly wrapped up in short order. He tried to cut through it, but the spidersilk was enhanced by Empyrean energies and just left him even more tangled up.

Then the PRT arrived, the first responder being Velocity.

She had never actually seen him in person, so she was instantly fascinated. His mind was running at normal speed, but the man himself existed in some strange crinkle of space-time that, oddly enough, reminded her of how a Star Trek warp drive was supposed to work. Taylor, existing in the Empyrean, found herself automatically accelerating her thoughts to keep up with him.

No, not quite. She realized that in the Empyrean, time was an illusion. She could cram an eternity worth of thought into a single moment. She could literally look back in time…. and she could look forward as well. It was like she had been going all this time without looking left or right and just now figured out that she could do it.

Sadly, this didn't give her much in the way of precognition. The ripples, swirls, eddies, and shades dancing through the Empyrean were too indistinct to get a clear picture of what would happen. They followed no rule, pattern or logic that would allow her to decisively know what would happen.

But she could tell if something would be happening, especially if it was big, and her Soulsight saw the Empyrean churning more violently than she'd ever seen in what she guessed was the relatively near future.

Just for that, this entire fracas would have been worth it.

XXXXX

Robin Swoyer, the Protectorate hero Velocity, arrived at the scene of the cape brawl at a leisurely jog. To everyone else it looked like he was blurring onto the scene, but for him it was casual.

Robin got a lot of cardio done while on the job, whether he wanted to or not.

Taking in the situation, he could only sigh in relief at seeing that it wasn't as bad as it could have been. The incident that had sparked this fight may have happened in a residential area, but it had moved to a large parking lot before the capes arrived. There would be property damage in the form of wrecked cars, road, and some trees, but no civilian casualties. Even the unpowered gang members had made themselves scarce.

Now he just had to get all these villains to break it up, or else stall until reinforcements arrived.

"Well, if it isn't the Protectorate."

Robin flinched violently, jumping away from the source of the voice and automatically trying to accelerate himself even further. He had never heard anyone speak to him coherently while that was the case. They always spoke too slow to be understandable.

A ghostly image of Taylor Hebert in civilian apparel stood there, visibly transparent. That was going to be a stay in the Master/Stranger tank already. She was moving naturally, while the world around them was in super slow motion.

"Psyker." He said warily.

"Please, Robin, call me Taylor." The villain said with a smirk. "After all, it's just us here."

He was definitely not going to be so familiar with a villain, especially not a teenage one. That way lay nothing but badness. Frankly, it was unnerving how flagrantly this particular villain crossed the invisible lines of cape culture.

"How are you doing this?" He asked the burning question. Psyker wasn't supposed to have any kind of projection power, especially not one that could project at super speed.

"You showed me how." Psyker smiled widely, all teeth. "Your thoughts run fast compared to everyone else, so I had to speed mine up to match."

There was a great many disturbing implications there.

"And the projection?" He pressed, not only because gathering information on powers whenever possible was standard procedure, but also because they had been specifically ordered to gather more information on Psyker.

"It's not a projection, I'm just tricking your mind into seeing and hearing me." Psyker's form wavered and turned into a perfect copy of Miss Militia. "My name was chosen for a reason, you know."

Well, shit. None of them had really taken the theory of Psyker actually being psychic seriously. Just a dumb kid choosing a dumb cape name, even if her powers could be mistaken for psychic. Tattletale was known for making similar boasts of being psychic and she was just a Thinker.

But if Psyker was faking being psychic, then she was doing a really good job of it, to the point that the truth would be a matter of semantics.

"Why are you telling me this?" He asked, dreading the answer.

"I just thought you'd like to chat." The Miss Militia illusion smiled in a way that was uncannily similar to how the real one did it, eye crinkle and all. "It must be lonely, being so fast."

Robin pointedly refused to think of how that could be misinterpreted. Hearing it from Miss Militia's mouth, in her voice, just made it so much worse. There had never been anything romantic between them, but he wasn't blind to the fact that his teammate was an attractive woman.

And it was lonely, being accelerated to the point where interaction with people was impossible. His power prevented him from feeling physically or mentally exhausted from prolonged usage, but it did nothing for the sense of isolation of moving through a nearly frozen world at what felt like normal speed. His days looked normal from the outside, but to him twenty-four hours might actually be thirty or even forty sometimes. Hannah was the closest to understanding what that was like, what with her being a noctis cape and not sleeping.

Psyker hadn't picked Miss Militia by accident, she was playing games with his head.

"Kind of have a thing to do here." He deflected, nodding towards the near frozen cape fight.

"So, what are you going to do?" Psyker asked, seemingly just curious. "Use a super sharp knife Armsmaster made you to cut them up? Drop grenades on them? Tie their shoelaces together?"

Robin's power made him fast, but it also made him proportionally weaker. The more he was accelerated, the less he could affect the world. A super sharp knife and grenades would be effective, but Image had deemed it too scary, so he was limited to confoam grenades at best.

Tying their shoelaces together was something that Assault had once suggested, not that it would work. If he was accelerated enough to do that, then he wouldn't be able to actually move the shoelaces.

"You'll excuse me if I don't share my plans with a villain." He said.

"You are excused." Psyker nodded magnanimously. "I'll just watch, then."

It was unnerving to have someone else active in accelerated time, effectively watching over his shoulder. It was lonely to be the only one moving at what looked like normal speed to him, but now that someone else was sharing his speed, it made his skin crawl.

Robin realized that it was reminding him of his trigger event, back when he was still in the army. He hadn't been fast enough to save a buddy back then, now he wasn't fast enough to escape Psyker's scrutiny. No matter how much he tried to accelerate, she just wasn't affected.

Fifteen-year-old girls shouldn't be this casually terrifying. Robin hadn't put much stock into it when Gallant had reported the encounter with Sherrel Bailey, AKA Squealer/Gearshift/Hot Rod, and her words about Psyker owning half the city already.

He was coming around to the notion.

XXXXX

As the main fight was progressing, Taylor, in her Psyker persona, allowed herself to strut towards where Victor was set up with his sniper rifle. She was very, very happy with today. Her powers had taken another massive jump just from seeing Velocity and realizing that there was no need to limit herself to a linear understanding of time. She actually felt kind of dumb for not realizing it sooner, but humans were simply not good at conceptualizing time in any way other than linear.

It was another piece of her humanity lost, but she had already spent a small eternity thinking about it. There was no going back, no more than she could confine her soul once more to only a single body or pull herself out of the Empyrean. Even if she could have done that, Earth Bet needed saving and half measures weren't going to cut it.

Especially since she knew that there was some kind of disaster just around the corner.

Taylor made a small jump and used her psychokinesis to levitate herself up to Victor's perch.

The Empire's Swiss army knife was lying prone on the roof of the building, eye firmly glued to the scope. With another thunderous boom, he fired towards Rachel's dogs.

Taylor had anticipated it, had an eternity to consider it, and used a small nudge of telekinetic power to send the bullet off course. The dog would have been no more than bruised through the heavy bone armor and thick muscle they sported, but that was no reason to let them get hit. The bullet instead bounced off the force field of Sherrel's truck.

Victor's mind filled with confusion. He knew where he had been aiming and knew that it should have hit.

Taylor's booted feet hit the roof at Victor's side, the heels making a deliberately loud click. She projected dread into the Empyrean, the billowing winds of her soul brushing up against his own.

Victor reacted instantly, spinning away, pulling a pistol, and shooting at her center mass in the same movement.

Taylor blocked the bullets, allowing him to roll away and get to his feet. She could already feel his power reaching out for her, trying to drain her skills. It was an interesting sensation, and she backtracked it into Victor's mind, into the psychic wound his power was keeping open.

In an instant, she saw him for what he was. A desperately incompetent man that couldn't do anything right on his own. He had triggered out of a sense of crippling inferiority, and now stole the skills of others to soothe his ego. But deep down, he knew that he was still that same incompetent, useless man. It was what fueled his hunger for other people's skill.

The gun clicked empty and he threw it at her without hesitation, pulling a knife and closing into melee range. The force of the skill drain increased, trying to pull away all of her combat knowledge.

She didn't bother trying to throw psychic interference at the power. He wouldn't be getting anything he didn't already have and her skills were not confined to this one body.

Taylor blocked his stab and the succession of blows that followed. He tried to strike at her head, neck, heart, liver, major arteries, and every other fatal or disabling location the human body had. His attacks were swift, powerful, precise, and would have overwhelmed just about any unpowered fighter.

Taylor blocked his attacks almost casually, seeing them all coming a mile away and having forever to react to them. Plus, Amelia's post-coital fiddling with her body hadn't come without benefits. The biokinetic's power had been desperate to be used and ended up with Taylor getting an artificial Brute rating that she had happily spread out among her many bodies.

The knife was sent clattering to the ground when she caught his wrist and twisted it, using her leg to counter his attempts to kick her away and her other arm to bat aside the punch to the throat. A slight telekinetic shove made him stumble off balance and then he ate a hard punch right into his diaphragm that forced all the air out of his lungs.

Taylor's hand snaked out and grabbed his trachea, making his choking even worse. She felt his panic and knew that he realized she could tear out his throat with this kind of grip. The skill drain became truly monstrous, but remained as useless as ever.

"You won't be taking anything from me." She informed him. "Time to go to sleep."

Victor kept trying to free himself, but didn't dare kick at her even though she was leaving herself wide open, not with her fingers digging into his neck, wrapped halfway around his windpipe. Instead, he tried to pry them away, but with no air in his lungs and unable to breathe, he was quickly losing consciousness.

To say nothing of her Brute-rated strength, minor though it was.

He tried instead to rush at her, to put things into closer quarters, but she just moved with him.

WHAT ARE YOU?! She heard him screaming in his mind and smiled. Thinking circles around your enemies was great, but there was also something to be said for physically overpowering someone.

Victor slumped and she quickly bound his arms and legs, first separately and then together, before throwing him over her shoulder. She also took the sniper rifle, because that was a nice piece of kit.

She was just hopping her way across the rooftops, back to the main fight, when she spotted the two vans sporting E88 tags rushing in the same direction. Across the skies, the glowing beacon of Purity streaked.

Kaiser had arrived to the battle, fashionably late. And from the other side, the Protectorate was coming to reinforce Velocity. Fun stuff.

XXXXX

The situation had escalated well past the point of an average cape fight. Usually, one side would back off after making a 'good enough' showing that they could retreat without losing face. No cape organization wanted to suffer crippling casualties to their people for no reason.

Lung had been a bit of anomaly in that regard, as the regenerating, escalating Brute could just keep on going without risking permanent harm. He also cared more about his pride than about the collateral damage he was causing, which had usually forced his opposition to back off and disengage.

By contrast, the Black Hand was usually so swift and efficient that the Protectorate rarely even had time to arrive on the scene before they were done.

That was not the case this time and Armsmaster was not sure how he felt about it. All out brawls with so many capes involved were also extremely unusual. One on one or at most two on two was the norm. Sometimes, there might be a larger scuffle that ended almost as soon as it started, because nobody wanted that kind of trouble.

More than twenty capes throwing down with neither side seeming to have any intention of backing off was generally classified as an A-class incident, the kind of thing that can potentially leave entire cities devastated.

"Protectorate!" Armsmaster shouted, using his built in voice amplifier to make his voice boom loudly. "Villains, stand down!"

To his mild surprise, they actually did, both sides glancing his way.

Armsmaster took in the situation and assessed it in a second.

On the Empire side, practically their entire roster had been mobilized and pulled into this. Everyone except for Othala and Victor (although his presence had been confirmed as a sniper earlier) were present. Although 'present' in the case of Hookwolf and Cricket meant being held captive by the Black Hand. Both were being used in the form of human shields to force the Empire capes to hold back.

Yes, even Hookwolf. The new monstrous Changer that had identified herself as Arachne was manhandling his bladed and very heavy form, heedless of how it was carving up her hands. That was a serious Brute.

On the side of the Black Hand was the aforementioned Arachne as their frontliner, literally dripping with gore from the many wounds she'd taken. Her regen was as strong as a heavily escalated Lung. Backing her up were the Travelers, Hellhound with her dogs, Regent, Gearshift with her force field truck, and Lodestone.

With Kaiser and Purity, the Empire had the advantage in battlefield control and offensive power. Even Night and Fog, missing in action for the past year, were present. Those two were extremely dangerous.

But the Black Hand seemed able to handle them. Between their Changers/Brutes in Arachne and Lodestone, Gearshift's shield, Genesis, and Hellhound's dogs, they had a defensive wall that would be very difficult to get past. Paired up with Trickster's swapping, the Empire was being stymied from recovering their captured comrades.

Velocity had reported that Fog didn't seem able to truly damage Arachne. Or he did, but she just regenerated it. And she was deliberately inhaling his fog form whenever he tried to advance. Any attempt to get past her was blocked by Sundancer, who could probably burn him to nothing in moments. Night, on the other hand, had Oni Lee sticking to her like glue, just staring at her and preventing her from transforming into her monstrous form.

By comparison, the full might of the Protectorate that had been mustered in response to this incident barely amounted to seven capes. Not even enough to match one side, much less both. Armsmaster had received word that New Wave would be coming as well, but their response times were much slower on account of having civilian lives.

They would have to make due.

Purity slowly rose back up into the air. In response, Gearshift aimed the tinkertech cannon mounted on her truck in the Blaster's direction. The situation could explode back into violence at any moment.

"Withdraw or face the consequences!" Armsmaster ordered.

It burned him that he couldn't take them all in. Not only would it be insane to think they could overcome this many capes, but they didn't even have the facilities to hold them all. Some of them were strong enough that they required specially reinforced cells, of which they had only two.

"The Empire does not abandon its own." Kaiser declared, looking faintly ridiculous standing on top of a car with the giant Valkyrie Twins towering on either side of him protectively.

Before Armsmaster could give a response, the loud click of heels on concrete disturbed the silence and a chill seemed to seemed to grip the otherwise pleasant spring day.

Psyker sauntered onto the scene, an unconscious Victor tossed over one shoulder and a large sniper rifle carried in her other hand.

"Kaiser, we finally meet face to face, as it were." She said, dropping her captive on the ground and 'resting' the barrel of the sniper rifle against the back of his head in a very pointed threat. "You sound even more pretentious in person than you do on video."

"Psyker." Kaiser replied tersely. "Why did you provoke this fight?"

"It was not I who sent trio of fools to harass a business in your territory."

"This is Empire territory!"

"Not anymore."

"You think you can encroach on us without consequence?!" Kaiser threatened.

"I have prepared six thousand three hundred and seventy-five plans to handle any response you may think to conjure. In the words of my generation; come at me, bro." Psyker threatened and mocked right back.

"Enough!" Armsmaster bellowed, retaking control of the situation. "Since I assume you will not be submitting to arrest, we will allow you to retreat. You've caused more than enough damage to the city already."

Frankly, the damage was astoundingly low for the scale of the fight. The fact that it had happened in a mostly empty parking lot instead of in the middle of a busy street was a godsend. The parking lot itself was wrecked, but that was a trivial amount of damage compared to the several blocks worth of buildings they could have lost.

"Agreed." Kaiser said pompously, sounding exactly as pretentious as Psyker had accused him of being. "But we will not leave without our people."

"And what incentive do I have to return them to you?" Psyker asked archly. "I am of a mind to give them over to the Protectorate."

Armsmaster ground his teeth together in frustration. That would be a win for them, technically, but it would be a win handed to them by villains. Not a good look.

He could see what Psyker was doing. By giving them her prisoners, she was weakening her opposition, embarrassing the heroes, and coming out smelling like roses. And if Kaiser decided to violently protest her decision, then the Protectorate would be forced into teaming up with her to fight them off, which would once again weaken her opposition, embarrass the heroes, and leaving her smelling like roses.

No matter what choices were made, she would be the winner and everyone else the loser.

Armsmaster really hated villainous Thinkers.

"We should kill Hookwolf." Hellhound snapped, glaring at the silk-wrapped mass of metal Arachne was keeping pinned down. Her monster dogs were growling like tank engines.

The statement got everyone's hackles up. Everyone except Psyker, who looked as unruffled and in control as ever.

"That would be too quick for him." She said calmly. "A death in battle is what he would want. Let the Protectorate stuff him into the Birdcage instead, a dark hole in the ground where he will never see the light of day again. Is that not a more fitting fate for someone like him?"

"Fine." Hellhound grumbled then glared at the Protectorate. "But they better not fuck it up again."

Armsmaster's gums ached from how hard he was clenching his jaw. Hookwolf's previous two escapes from Birdcage transports were ugly black marks on the PRT and Protectorate's record.

"Fine, you may take them for now, but don't expect us to abandon our brothers and sister." Kaiser said, acting as if he was the one allowing this and not being forced into it.

He may as well also have declared that the Empire would try to break their capes out of holding, but everyone had already known that.

After that, both villain organizations carefully backed off and the Protectorate hosed the captured capes with containment foam.

It was technically a win for the heroes, but it sure as hell didn't feel like one.

XXXXX

Later…

Emily Piggot slammed her hand on the desk. "What the hell was this?!"

"We got played, again." Assault replied with a huff that was half-amused. "I guess Hot Rod wasn't joking when she said that Psyker needed to be a villain to stretch her Thinker muscles."

Emily could feel her blood pressure rising. It was true that a fifteen-year-old would never have been allowed to make command decisions, no matter how well their power was suited for it. The very idea of letting a child have that much power grated against her soul and reinforced her belief that parahumans were not to be trusted.

Frankly, no parahuman should be allowed to make any kind of important decisions. They were all cracked in the head, every last one of them. Unfortunately, Costa-Brown wouldn't see it that way if she could squeeze some kind of use out of Psyker.

"She showed off a new power again." Velocity spoke up, looking both grim and subdued. "She was able to talk to me while I was in super speed."

"What?!" More than one person exclaimed in shock.

"Apparently she really is some kind of psychic." Velocity continued. "She said that looking at me taught her how to accelerate her thoughts. She was able to make me hallucinate an image of her that moved at the same speed as me. An image that she could turn to whatever she wanted."

"And if she can do that, she can probably do more." Emily hated the thought of it. The more powerful Psyker showed herself to be, the more she would be able to get away with as long as she kept up the reasonable facade.

And it was a facade, Emily was sure of it. No way could a fifteen-year-old girl have such a tight grip on the criminal element in her territory without demonstrating sufficient brutality to cow any naysayers. Either that or a potent Master ability. The PRT and the police didn't have a good insight into what went on in Lung's former territory, because the people there refused to speak to them and many of them were undocumented illegal immigrants or refugees, but a lot of the older faces had mysteriously disappeared.

She could already imagine her budget being slashed further if Psyker actually managed to take control of the whole city, her department reduced to a token force whose primary purpose would be to keep heroes from causing trouble and upsetting the apple cart rather than hunting villains.

And if the Black Hand participated in Endbringer fights with any kind of effectiveness, then that was almost a guarantee.

Part of the reason Hookwolf got as much leeway as he did was because he was willing to participate in fights against the Simurgh. Not to fight the feathery bitch directly, but to indiscriminately massacre anyone who had been written off as a Ziz bomb while they were putting up walls around the lost city.

Emily didn't actually know that for certain. It definitely wasn't written down anywhere or spoken of, but it made sense to her cynical soul. Putting up walls took time, and Protectorate heroes weren't likely to have the stomach to kill innocents while it was happening. Enter the villains who had no such scruples.

Costa-Brown was definitely ruthless enough to arrange for something like that.

"But why would she be showing us what she could do?" Dauntless asked with a frown.

"Because she's not afraid of us anymore." Assault answered him. "Being sneaky was necessary back when she was weak, now she has to make it clear that fighting her would cost us too much. And to show us why we should take her up on her offer to be 'work friends' instead of enemies."

"It happened so fast." Battery said in frustration. "We didn't even have time to get the measure of her before it was too late."

"Look at the bright side." Assault tried for a cheery tone. "I bet that neither did the Empire."

Not much of a bright side.

"Should we go talk to her again?" Miss Militia asked. "Miss Hebert did leave us something like an open invitation to do so."

Yes, as if that wasn't insulting.

Armsmaster had been agitatedly typing on his wrist computer for a bit and suddenly looked up with a grim expression. "We have a problem."

Of course they did, it was Brockton Bay.

"What now?" Emily held back a sigh.

"I was able to confirm that Taylor Hebert was present in Winslow during the altercation with the Empire."

"… A body double?" Triumph spoke up for the first time.

"And somehow, despite how she's been showing off, we still don't know shit." Assault groaned. "We actually might need to go talk to her and see if she's willing to let anything more slip."

Costa-Brown would probably approve of that plan. For that reason alone, Emily hated it.

XXXXX

Max hammered his fist into the table angrily. "What the hell was that?!"

Most of his capes refused to look at him, either shrinking in their seats or glaring at the table. Only Krieg would meet his eyes.

"We got baited into a trap, again." James said, every bit as agitated as him. "The three footsoldiers that started this weren't even acting on orders as far as I could tell."

Footsoldiers? What a joke. Max could only wish the unwashed masses comprising the bulk of the Empire 88 had enough discipline to call themselves soldiers. They had probably just been bored and maybe even drunk.

Frankly, he had no idea how Krieg could continue to believe that their cause had any kind of nobility when that was the quality of the rabble they had to work with.

Losing three capes to avenge the embarrassment of three idiots was not a good trade, even if they got Hookwolf, Victor, and Cricket back.

"Psyker said that she had over six thousand plans prepared." Purity spoke up, subdued. She didn't want to be here and certainly hadn't wanted to be associated with the Empire again, but Max had baited her with promises of giving up any legal claims to Aster after they took down the Black Hand.

A promise that he had no intention of keeping, but Kayden didn't know that even though she should.

"An obvious exaggeration." James dismissed.

"I wouldn't be so sure." Max disagreed. "I've had Victor trying to look into how the Black Hand operates and he was barely able to get anything. Psyker runs a tight operation, too tight to be normal. She's a Thinker for certain, a very powerful one."

Max hid his frustration and envy. Thinkers and Tinkers were immense boons to any organization, and it was exactly those types of capes that the Empire was constantly short on. Victor was invaluable simply for the sheer breadth of mundane skills he offered.

Conversely, the Black Hand was rather heavy on Thinker and Tinker assets, and it made them very problematic.

"But what the fuck was with that spider bitch?!" Stormtiger burst out, obviously angry at losing his comrade and leader. "Where did they find a Changer like that? Hookwolf was carving her up like a turkey and she didn't even flinch!"

"Maybe she just doesn't feel pain, like me." Alabaster shrugged. He hadn't been able to do much of anything in the fight.

"She must have been with the Travelers." Krieg reasoned with a frown. "Our investigation into their past activities did mention a 'Noelle', as Trickster called her, but she disappeared from view a while ago. I'd assumed that she simply died, but it appears not. The strange thing is that those reports don't mention anything about a giant spider cape called Arachne."

"And that wasn't something that would get brushed under the carpet." Max nodded. A huge Changer with such a distinct form and a mythological name would have made headlines. "There is definitely something very strange going on here. Psyker is showing far too much versatility and strength in her powers. We need to corner her and force her to react instead of reacting."

Not for the first time, Max missed Lung and Skidmark. Those two had been so nice and predictable, not to mention lazy and disgusting. It was hard for the Empire 88 to present itself as the unfairly maligned champion of the people when the Black Hand was never even seen committing any crime that people cared about. And Psyker was good at presentation.

It was pissing him off.

"When will we get Victor and the others back?" Othala asked timidly, but there was a hint of steel behind the quiet tone. It was obvious that they would be getting her husband back, or else their Trump would be making problems.

Not that Max had any intention of abandoning their lost people. Cricket wouldn't have been a huge loss, but Hookwolf was valuable and Victor even more so.

"As soon as possible." He assured.

Even if he had to hire Faultline and her crew to do it.

The conversation continued, with none of the Empire capes paying any real mind to Night and Fog. The two Gesellschaft capes never spoke unless spoken to.

XXXXX

"Today was a great day." Taylor declared, lounging in a hot tub with massage jets, holding a cocktail that had both a lot of kick and flavor.

Underage drinking was the least of her crimes, and it wasn't like she could really get drunk anyway.

"Did something good happen?" Emma asked perkily, rubbing her feet with focus usually reserved for matters of life and death.

The redhead had been settled into one of the more upscale properties owned by the Black Hand, rooming together with a body that was dedicated to hedonism.

Taylor hadn't forgotten Father Douglas' advice to not give in to the urges of her power, but completely ignoring them was also not the way. It made her angry and short-tempered. Better to find outlets than to let the pressure build until it exploded.

"Oh yes, something very good happened." Taylor smiled, thinking of her two new agents.

Night and Fog, what an unexpected boon in a day of unexpected boons.

Those two were completely broken people. If she had to compare their minds to something, it would be a flat, barren desert that had all the life burned out of it. The only feature in such a desert would be the scorching sun overhead, which resonated with the meaning of GESELLSCHAFT. They had been brutally conditioned, probably with a combination of powers and mundane methods, to be utterly loyal to the European Neonazi organization.

It was obviously effective, since the conditioning hadn't wavered at all in all the time since it was applied. Too bad that it was entirely the wrong kind of conditioning to resist her psychic intrusion. Night and Fog had had all sense of ego beaten out of them, so it was a simple matter to slip into their minds and replace the 'sun' of Gesellschaft with herself.

Maybe they would even recover some semblance of personality one day under the more benevolent radiance of her soul, but whether they did or not, they would be loyal to her from now on. For the time being, that would mean being her eyes and ears in Kaiser's inner circle.

"Umm, would you like to celebrate?" Emma asked hopefully, none too subtly pushing out her naked breasts.

Taylor smiled. Yes, today was a good day.

XXXXX

April 22nd, 2011.

"Isn't it a bit late to be changing her legal council?" The warden of the supermax parahuman holding facility asked, clearly unhappy with them.

"We would have come to offer our services earlier, but our firm kept encountering bureaucratic obstacles." Taylor, in her guise as a chestnut-haired lawyer in her thirties, said. Her tone was subtly, but pointedly, censorius.

Amy knew that it was a lie. There had been no such bureaucratic obstructions to Canary's legal representation, because the law firm they were supposedly working for had not made any such offers. Canary's assets had been frozen after her arrest and she couldn't afford a lawyer, and no lawyer wanted to work for free in such a risky case.

That being said, Amy could absolutely believe that the PRT and the justice system would try to stonewall any attempts to get Canary proper representation instead of the court-appointed stooge that had been tanking her case since the start.

Taylor and Lisa had gotten around the problem with shitloads of bribes, fraud, and outright blackmail.

"Right, whatever." The warden was clearly not impressed. "We've prepared a private meeting room for you, even had Canary's gag removed on your insistence. You'll have to sign a waiver that you were warned about the risk of mastering."

"Of course." Taylor nodded sharply and the paperwork was brought out.

Amy shared a look with Lisa, her fellow 'assistant' for this ruse. Both of them were also looking quite unlike themselves.

Lisa, like Taylor, had been directly transformed into a twenty-something woman with straight black hair and deep blue eyes. Amy, on the other hand, was wearing a biomask that she'd made herself, contacts, and had her usually frizzy brown hair styled into a professional bun.

The mask itched abominably and she couldn't wait to get it off.

The waivers were signed, although Amy's eyebrows climbed up her forehead when she saw how much it covered. Everything from getting tazed and containment foamed up to and including death. They really didn't want Canary escaping.

Once the papers were signed, the warden brought them to a rather spartan meeting room, where the disgraced singer was waiting for them.

Amy could tell at a glance that Paige Mcabee was not doing well. Her bright yellow hair was limp, the feathers that gave her the name Canary looking like they were about to fall out. She was too thin, her eyes were dim, and her face full of stress lines.

The fact that her hands were bolted to the heavy steel table with Brute-level restraints did nothing to dispel this image.

"H-hey?" The singer spoke hesitantly. "They told me you wanted to represent me?"

Amy had heard recordings of some of her songs and thought that her voice was beautiful. In person, it was more like an aural orgasm. But the tone… it was so pathetically hopeful that she could only wonder how anyone could be so doggedly determined to put this woman into the Birdcage.

Taylor didn't answer, looking towards Lisa instead.

Tattletale scrutinized the room for a minute and then gave Taylor a nod. "All clear, Boss."

"Let's get you out of those restraints." Taylor said to Canary and put her hand over the locks. They were massive things, built to resist enormous punishment, but not precision telekinesis. With a few quiet clicks, the heavy steel bolts popped open.

"What's going on? Who are you people?" Canary asked, now visibly frightened.

"We're your get out of jail free card." Taylor said, beginning to take off her clothes. "The judge presiding over your trial has a huge bias against Master type capes and did everything in his power to see you convicted. He wants you sent to the Birdcage."

Canary looked stricken, but… not all that surprised. She, more than anyone, would have seen how badly she was being railroaded. "Oh…"

"Take your clothes off, time is ticking."

"What?!"

"You'll be switching places." Lisa explained with a grin. "Nobody is going to know the difference until it's too late."

Canary started obeying, awkwardly taking off her unflattering orange prison jumpsuit and the basic underwear beneath it. "But we look nothing alike?"

That wasn't exactly true. Amy had bioformed this body for Taylor to have as close to identical proportions to Canary as possible. Only the facial features and skin tone were different.

"Leave that to me, I'm a biokinetic. Call me Shaper." Amy said, feeling an odd rush of excitement at being able to say that openly. This entire operation had been exciting, honestly. Taylor had even helped her figure out a temporary (maybe) villain name.

"Okay… but won't you be sent to the Birdcage, then?" Canary asked in concern, pulling on Taylor's stockings.

"I want to be sent to the Birdcage." Taylor replied, now dressed in ugly prison orange. "Helping you out is a nice bonus, but my true goal has always been to get in there. You can do whatever you want once you're free."

"Oh." Canary looked a bit nonplussed by that, pausing in her buttoning up of the blouse. "I thought you were villains that wanted me for my power."

"We are villains, but we don't really need your power." Lisa grinned again.

That just seemed to confuse the singer even more.

"Alright, let me just…" Amy cut in, laying a hand each on Taylor and Canary. With both of their biologies in her mind, it was simple to just switch them. "There, perfect down to the cellular level."

Taylor sat down in Canary's place and bolted the restraints back into place. "You'll receive a phone call on the way out. Simply answer it and make affirmative noises while ignoring everyone around you. Do not speak or your power will betray you. Tattletale will take care of the talking to get you out of here."

"But first we need to stay in here for another hour or so." Lisa grinned and sat down. "How about you tell us what you do for fun while I style your hair?"

XXXXX

Paige had somewhat managed to calm down as the conversation continued. It was freaky looking at her own face, but these three women (girls?) didn't seem so bad for all that they were self-admitted villains.

And being saved from a guaranteed one-way trip to the Birdcage did a lot to earn them the benefit of the doubt.

Then suddenly, Psyker, the villain that had taken her place, cut off mid-sentence.

"The warden is coming. Show time."

It had barely been thirty minutes, when they were supposed to have an hour. They really were trying their damnedest to see her convicted. That further soothed any hesitation she had about going along with this scheme.

The cell phone in the pocket of the expensive lawyer jacket she was wearing rang and she was quick to pull it out, remembering the instructions she'd been given.

"Hello there." A very familiar voice spoke up. "Like I said earlier, Canary. Affirmative noises and a blank expression."

It was Psyker's voice. Paige turned wide eyes on the woman currently wearing her face, and received a quick wink. Despite her confusion, she was a performer and knew how to school her expressions, so she put on her best 'bitchy lawyer' face and started doing a lot of 'uh huhs' while holding back her power as much as possible.

The warden opened the door, quickly scanned the room, and spoke. "Time's up."

It absolutely was not, but Tattletale stood up with a curt nod. "We're done here anyway."

The warden looked pleased by that, probably thinking that they had decided not to help her after all.

Paige couldn't honestly remember much about the trip out of the holding facility. Her heart was constantly pounding with fear, certain that the ruse would be discovered and they'd all get containment foamed. The only thing keeping her grounded was the stream of conversation coming over the phone, which was just Psyker reciting the cooking recipe for beef stroganoff.

And then they were out, making their way towards a fancy car. Shape opened up the back seat for her and the joined her, while Tattletale went to sit shotgun.

"… then you just serve it over noodles." Paige heard from the driver as the door was opened.

The driver was a woman in her late twenties with straight black hair and bright green eyes. The second that she pushed 'end call' on her phone, Paige also heard it being dropped on her end.

"… Psyker?" Paige asked, confused.

"Hey, long time no see." Psyker smirked.

"How?"

"Powers are bullshit." Tattletale interjected. "Hers most of all. By the way, I still think that I should have been the boss lawyer on this one. Would have been a lot easier to disguise Canary as an underling."

"And I'm telling you again that you can't pull off boss lawyer body language. The best you managed was entitled teenager. Plus, you would have been tempted to needle the warden."

"I was still tempted to needle him!" Tattletale protested. "But I didn't do it, did I?"

"You only had one line of dialogue. Even a low-tier Thinker like you would be hard pressed to screw that up."

"You bitch, I'll screw up your face."

"I'll screw up both of your faces if you don't shut up!" Shaper snarked and reached under her chin, pulling off her whole face. "Ugh, this thing was starting to feel like a crusty armpit."

While Paige was busy leaning away from the minor body horror, Psyker blindly offered the biokinetic some wet wipes. "We appreciate your sacrifice. This would have been a lot harder without you."

"Why do you praise her, but shit on me" Tattletale whined like a child, obviously playing up the sulk.

"You're a natural-born villainous annoyance. She needs to be sweet-talked into it."

"I'm right here, you know." Shaper grumbled, wiping off her face, popping out contact lenses and undoing her bun. She looked like a completely different person afterwards… a very young person.

"How old are you?" Paige asked, looking between them.

"Sixteen." Tattletale and Shaper chorused.

"My age is beyond mortal comprehension." Psyker said.

"She's fifteen." Tattletale tattled.

"You're just kids." Paige mumbled to herself in shock. "I got busted out of jail by a bunch of kids?"

"That's a good thing." Psyker told her. "You think the government is going to be eager to admit they got hoodwinked by teenagers? Even after it becomes obvious what we did, they'll help us cover it up to spare themselves the embarrassment."

"Could you please try to stop plotting for one minute?" Shaper requested, exasperated.

"I literally can't."

"It's a common flaw among lesser Thinkers." Tattletale interjected mockingly.

"Now you're just grasping at straws."

"Where are we going?" Paige interrupted the bickering.

"Brockton Bay."

"Oh." Paige mumbled to herself. "Of course it would be Brockton Bay."

She'd never been there, but she'd heard of it. The coastal city was practically memetic for its cape-related problems.

XXXXX

April 24th, 2011.

For five days now, Taylor had something like two dozen bodies positioned to watch every single road into Brockton Bay. Their only task was to maintain 24-hour watch of said roads. They did not eat or sleep or do anything at all except stare fixedly at the roads. It was a level of focus no human being was capable of, but which she could easily dedicate a few extra iterations of herself to.

Finally, it paid off and she saw an RV roll into town. An RV driven by a long-haired man of particular infamy.

"You're late." Taylor said, staring at Heartbreaker's soul.

It was… weak.

With Alec's help, Taylor and Lisa had built a psychological profile on Nikos Vasil. By their determination, the man was entitled, arrogant, narcissistic, petulant, and prone to throwing tantrums when things didn't go his way.

Looking at his soul, Taylor knew all of that to be true and more. Heartbreaker had had his power for over twenty years. There was a thick layer of conceit caked over a core of petty bitterness and resentment. He thought himself a great man, but his will had rotted down to nothing.

As expected, Nikos Vasil was a contemptible creature.

She was fairly sure that she could crush his mind like a grape, right here and now. Good to know, but not what she'd wanted him here for.

There were other minds in the RV with him, which explained the delay in arrival. He'd brought his entire brood with him. Probably out of fear that they would make a run for it if they had a chance, although according to Alec, at least two of his sons, Guillaume and Nicholas, were just as bad as him.

The others were varying levels of emotionally damaged and broken, which she could easily see from their souls.

Some of the Heartbroken would have to be executed, the others would join the Black Hand, whether they wanted to or not. Nobody else could be trusted to have them.

Taylor reached out, slithering into Heartbreaker's mind. It was easy to do, the man's mind was a morass of weakness and insecurity. There was no shortage of holes for her to wiggle through.

Instead of doing anything overt, she just gave him a little nudge as to which direction to go to. Heartbreaker's typical modus operandi was to drive into the rich part of town and use his power to enthrall whichever woman struck his fancy, and then essentially squat in her house. Any husbands or other family members were reduced to servants or told to go kill themselves.

Giving him a 'hunch' that as to where to go was the simplest thing in the world.

Heartbreaker drove exactly where she wanted him to, and he spotted a buxom and refined dark-haired lady having an early brunch on the patio of her very nice house. As expected of his impulse-driven personality, he instantly decided that she would be hosting him and his children during their stay in Brockton Bay, as well as being his concubine. His power reached out, seeking to overwrite the woman's emotions with worship of him.

Taylor – for the dark-haired lady was just another of her bodies, she wasn't going to subject some random woman to a serial rapist – was disgusted by the wash of false emotion. This was so much worse than Glory Girl.

Still, she pretended to happily welcome Heartbreaker and his brood into the house, knowing that his power didn't give him any feedback on whether it had worked or not.

As the children got settled, Heartbreaker arrogantly walked into the master bedroom, not even having the decency to feel like a trespasser. He was genuinely deluded enough to believe that this home and everything in it belonged to him now.

"It's been a long ride, give me a massage." He ordered, undressing.

Taylor could have gone along with it. She could have even pretended to be mastered and played the role of a brainwashed sex slave. With how expansive her consciousness was and how many bodies she had, it wouldn't even feel like that huge of a violation. And it would have been the best way to keep up the charade without rousing any suspicion.

That being said, it would still feel kind of like poking a piece of fresh dog shit with her finger. Worse, the nature of her powers would make her enjoy it and that was just not something she was going to allow.

So she met his eyes and let a little of what she was leak through. "Go to sleep."

Heartbreaker's shriveled, rotten soul buckled under the command and he obeyed without thinking. Muddling his memory afterward was child's play. He would think that he'd just fallen asleep.

Putting up with this disgusting swine and his spawn until his use was expended would test her restraint, she could already tell.

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