Work Book 2

"Welcome to Brockton Bay, Sunstorm." Director Phillip Travers gave me a smile, holding out his hand.

Gently, as if his hand was made of spiderwebs, I shook his hand in return. "Glad to be here. What am I walking in to?"

Travers was dark-skinned, looked to be in his mid-fifties, with graying hair and severe features. He walked around his desk and sat in his leather chair, letting out a huff. "Frankly from our end, the situation isn't great. How much do you know about the gangs here?"

I shook my head. "I know about the Teeth, led by the Butcher. That was near the top of the list of threats I got in the briefing package. Mostly due to that being a rather horrific fate."

Travers nodded grimly. "Butcher's one of the big problems here in Brockton. You need a cape to even try to keep up with them, but those are the ones in the most danger. A couple of Butchers have been heroes before they were infected, and they lasted a while before they threw themselves at the Teeth. Next thing we know we've got a Butcher with a hero's powers."

Right. I didn't want to risk that, even if I was immune to another cape with an ability to shut off or mess with powers. Just because I was immune to one doesn't mean I was immune to all.

I sighed. "Sounds like a damned nightmare. I've got a lot of catching up to do."

"I don't envy you." Travers said with a soft chuckle. "Brockton's got its problems, ever since that big ship got planted at the mouth of the harbor, the city's been sliding downhill. We've got some good resources on our side, the hard part is utilizing them. One of the issues with this kind of thing is we're always on the defensive side. Often by the time we can get somewhere, they've done their damage and gone. We do get victories now and again, but... we're slowly being bled dry, here. Right now we've got three Protectorate and one Ward, a few PRT teams on the ground, but it's just not enough to handle everything. The Empire and Marquis' men are always clashing. We have some assistance from the Brockton Bay Brigade, which has helped us keep things relatively stable. Problem is whenever we make a bit of progress, the Teeth show up and destabilize things again."

I nodded, folding my arms. "Not sure how much I can help. I'm not one of the big names back home. I don't even know where I stack up against some of the big threats here. That said, I'm willing to help and I'm working on getting myself back up to snuff."

"Back up to snuff?" Travers said slowly. "Considering what you've done already, you're not at a hundred percent?"

I shrugged. "Nowhere near. Powers haven't been working the way I'm used to ever since I arrived on Earth Bet. They are there, but I'm having to struggle to get them working. My martial skills are off, and I need to stretch my wings and flying ability." I smiled wryly. "There's some things I can think of to try and test my limits, but if I try flying around the world at top speed I might be mistaken for a missile launch or something."

He was silent for a moment, then he nodded slowly. "We're going to have to get the paperwork going for that... how fast could you fly before?"

"Honestly... not sure of my limits. I normally stuck to below sonic speeds for safety reasons, going supersonic over oceans. I've fought against beings with superspeed, though. Not fun. I could keep up, but I need to practice. A lot. As for flying through the atmosphere, my stuff tends to melt before I hit my top speed, so I haven't pushed myself to whatever limit I might have. I probably could go really fast if I needed to, but before I got here teleporters were usually faster and allowed me to get on point without my stuff sloughing off." I grimaced. "I really don't like arriving naked."

He chuckled at that. "Fair enough. We don't have a reliable teleportation system, however, and there are limited Movers who can bring other people. We're going to have to figure out something. We're also going to need just how strong you are, what you can handle."

I sighed. "Yeah. I figured. I need to know too, but I just might end up breaking the equipment."

Travers' lip twitched. "That's what insurance is for."

----------

I sucked in a deep breath. Right. Relax. This isn't like going up against Black Adam. Just a whole new group of people I don't know and shit what if I screw this up?

Focus, Tracy.

I pulled open the door to the Protectorate's kitchen, folding my wings tightly around my shoulders. Because I can't get rid of them, might as well lessen the non-human profile.

I took in the group around the table, chatting away with a relaxed air. I felt my nervousness go up another notch, as... well, since the horns, it's been rough joining groups. This wasn't like the Justice League. This was an unknown for me, and no amount of research by either books or cruddy webpages was going to help me get over it. Only action. I was familiar with action, just... stop, just stop, Tracy. Go and do. They're not murderers!

Well, they better not be murderers. Those are actually easier to handle and... damn it! Just go!

The chatting stopped as I entered, and the four at the table looked at me. Two women, two men. There wasn't any fear, there, which was good. It was helpful that people knew I was coming and had a bit of a reputation now. It also meant that I was... utterly, stupidly lost on how to go forward, because everything was different here and... focus. Stop worrying about the worst case scenario.

The woman at the head of the table was wearing red, with golden chains running down her suit. The second was dusky-skinned, young. She was wearing camouflage fatigues, an American Flag scarf tucked into her front pocket. The first man at the side was blond, wearing a red skintight suit, broken by a white V on his chest. He had an easygoing smile on his lips.

The other man was young, and had skin as dark as night itself. He was bald, his face blank as he looked at me, his brown eyes piercing. He had a prosthetic left arm, but it was plain metal instead of being obviously technologically powered. He wore a bright blue suit, and the helmet on the table indicated that his uniform would leave not a single inch of skin exposed when it was on.

I let out a deep breath, put on my best smile and gently waved. "Hello. I'm Sunstorm. I'm... supposed to be joining you guys today?"

The woman at the head of the table got up, chuckling as she gave me a nod. "Welcome to the Brockton Bay Protectorate. I'm Challenger."

"Miss Militia." Fatigues spoke, with a smile, giving me a friendly nod.

"Velocity." Blondie spoke, giving a lazy wave of his hand.

"Nighthawk." Blue spoke, his lips curling upward slightly.

I smiled, giving a small nod of my own. "A pleasure. I'm... well, I'm not new to the hero business, but I'm new around here, so there's a lot I need to catch up on."

Challenger snickered. "Don't worry, we'll show you the ropes. We'd appreciate it if you didn't snap them. Or snap us in half, either."

I felt some of my nervousness bleed away. "I'm fine with that. Working on my issues. Or subscriptions, rather."

"You'll do fine, I'm sure." Miss Milita spoke.

"Can't do worse than V." Nighthawk spoke, his deep voice deadpan.

"Right." Velocity said. Then, a moment later, "Hey!"

----------

I was beginning to regret my career path.

I was given a desk, but not my own office. A chair, a rather comfy chair at that, helpfully padded to deal with the awkwardness of my wings. Also an in-tray, an out-tray, a box of pens, and a set of paperwork ten inches thick.

I've been here three hours!

Oh, this stuff was important, I get that. The Justice League simply didn't have this level of bureaucracy, though. I was tempted to just 'accidentally' burn it, if I didn't know I'd be given another identical stack within five minutes.

I was still very tempted.

Most of it was mundane, and odds are I wouldn't have as much to worry about once I was settled in properly. I couldn't see most heroes putting up with such huge amounts of paperwork all the time. It was when I reached the third inch I discovered why. They wanted everything I knew about the Underworld in detail.

I'd be less irritated if I hadn't already given that information back in New York. Guess they didn't believe me then and only have some confidence in it now. Not that I blame them for it. Any given year since... uh, 1943, actually, would probably sound insane. Especially since apparently here, superpowers only became a thing in the early 1980s instead of 5000 years ago. Or more, in the case of Vandal Savage.

Still, as the sun dipped below the horizon from my window, I sighed, got up and took a break. I needed to stretch.

----------

"So how are you settling in?" Challenger asked me the next morning, sipping from her cup of coffee. Or, at least, it resembled coffee. I was fairly sure whatever she was drinking had a fair bit of grounds in it, the way she gave an occasional gulp.

Of course, she had to ask when I was mid-bite of my bagel, looking amused as I hurriedly swallowed, followed by a gulp of orange juice. "I broke the strength-testing machine."

Challenger blinked, an eyebrow going up. "The strength machine."

I nodded, munching on my bagel.

"The weight machine that can simulate up to eight hundred tons?"

I made an affirmative humming noise, then swallowed. "Would have pushed me through the floor if I didn't push back against it. Apparently the design just can't handle me. So it broke. They're going to have to replace the thing."

"Jesus." Challenger spoke. "I knew you were a Brute, but damn." Then she sighed. "Well you did pick up an aircraft, but... still, shit."

I drained my glass, putting it back on the 'wash' side of the dispensary, then plodded back over to sit at the table across from her. "Yeah. I've actually never put a number of it before. I've fought much stronger beings than myself, mind you, but after a while you just lose perspective."

Challenger's lip quirked. "Everyone like you back home?"

I shook my head, chuckling. "I'm not top tier as far as strength goes. Not on offense, anyway. Superman's at the top. Well, actually, there are beings stronger than he is, but he usually finds a way to get through things when they're hostile. I manage in a similar way, but with a longer list. I lead my team into the thick of things. We usually handle the smaller stuff, but there are times when I've had to join in against larger threats."

"Mm. I haven't had a chance to read that package you wrote. The brass haven't given it to us plebians."

I shrugged. "Well, my best advice for you is if you see either a twelve foot tall guy made out of rock with glowing red eyes, or another twelve foot gray guy with bone spikes all over him, run. You might get away, at least long enough for the heavy hitters to come in. Not likely, but it's possible."

"I'll keep it in mind." Challenger nodded with a slight smile.

We shared companionable silence for a few minutes as she finished her breakfast. I was just glad to be fairly rested, for once.

She spoke then, her voice turning a tiny bit more professional. "Right. So what are your immediate plans? Finding a place to live? The base works on a temporary basis, but most people would go nuts staying here all the time. Plus not much privacy. Which could get awkward if you wanted to bring a hot guy home. Or girl. I don't judge."

I chuckled. "I'm looking for some property to settle in. I'm not picky, but... well, taking an apartment would be asking for trouble both from and to my neighbors. So I'm looking for somewhere out of the city. Preferably out in the middle of nowhere, actually." I tapped my chin. "Maybe on a mountainside, or something. Commuting isn't exactly a problem for me."

She looked amused. "Pretty sure it'd take at least ten years to buy or build a mountain estate on our salary."

I nodded. "Yeah, but what about building a mountain lair? Especially since I don't need help blasting to carve out the area, and I can carry construction equipment in place."

Challenger nodded slowly. "Right. I bet you could do a fair bit, considering you picked up a freaking aircraft. Could carry most of the stuff up you wanted. Might have trouble with water, though."

"There's ways around that." I nodded. "Depends on the weather around here, though I can't imagine not getting much rain on the mountainside. It wouldn't even be the first place I built... though admittedly the actual building part would be new for me. The League helped with my last place."

Challenger lifted an eyebrow. "Oh? Where'd you live then?"

"Space." I said deadpan, carefully keeping my face neutral.

She looked at me searchingly for a moment, then snorted. "I don't believe you."

I chuckled. "You're right. The Watchtower is in space, mind you, and we used it as a hub to coordinate all over the world. But I lived in a little bungalow in the woods in Delaware. Old owner passed away, and I bought the land after getting lucky by selling some useful materials to Wayne Enterprises. Which... well, does exist here, but they sell clothes, apparently, instead of being a centuries-old multinational company."

"Must be weird, everything being different."

I nodded with a grimace. "Yeah. I keep expecting things to go one way and having to correct myself. The League was funded by the UN, for one thing. We could go anywhere within member nations on request, usually for national emergencies. Here? Something happens in China and that ends up being a 'them' problem. Even if Behemoth is busy munching on a nuclear reactor core. It's throwing me off."

Challenger nodded. "I get it. Probably feels like being demoted."

"Actually, yeah." I agreed. "Much worse than that, because I can't even call my friends or have any of the touchstones I'm used to. Beyond that I need to be mindful of everything I do because my strength is on all the time. I've got some experience at that, thankfully, otherwise things would get very messy very quickly, but I'm also used to going up against more durable targets than what I've seen around here."

Challenger grinned. "Well, hopefully we don't get too many problems like that. We've got tough guys, we've got glass cannons, but we don't tend to have too many tough cannons. If you need to duke it out with someone on your level in the middle of a city nothing good is going to happen."

I nodded with a chuckle. "We, my team that is, usually tries to prevent that. There are times it doesn't work, because the bad guy in question is just faster or stronger than we are, but when we can trade blows out in the middle of nowhere, it can get pretty destructive."

Our communicators crackled. "Challenger, Sunstorm, we have a ten-thirty five, Empire activity at the downtown Civic Center. Reports are coming in, expect villain opposition."

Challenger stood up from the table, her chair scraping on the ground. "Right, duty calls." She gave me a saucy grin. "Think you can keep up?"

I laughed. "I'd already be there if I wouldn't be leaving my backup behind. You're the expert here, I'll be the brick wall."

Exiting the Protectorate HQ building took little time for me. All they had to do was snap down the forcefield from above. It also helped that, with the HQ being a repurposed oil rig in the middle of the bay, it was at a fairly central location for the city itself. It was a bit more problematic keeping up with Challenger.

They'd reshaped the field into a bridge for her to actually reach the city itself. Once on land, she drove like a complete maniac. She wove through traffic at high speeds, barely dodging around cars, the loud siren on the front of it giving them just a few moments' notice to get out of the way. Across her back I could see a huge axe, and while from above I couldn't see her expression, I was sure she was grinning like a mad idiot.

I'd have to see about getting her a flight pack or something, because she couldn't be any worse in the air. Actually, scratch that. She'd probably plow through a building or three, with the way she was getting past cars and pedestrians by inches.

The good news is, people as a whole were moving out of the way, though of course there were idiots that stood and gawked at Challenger rather than leaving. The flow of traffic did thin out as we went, which made me a bit less nervous.

The sound of shattering concrete echoed from ahead, and I looked up from Challenger toward our destination. With the sun high in the air, it was easy to see just what we were diving into.

The wall of the civic center was torn down, while a group of nine men wearing Nazi memorabilia traded gunfire with another group of five more plainly-dressed men inside the breach. At the front of the group of Nazis was a man wearing a gas mask. He stood with total confidence, the bullets that neared him simply slowing or dropping to the ground near him. He was using a huge rifle, firing off toward the plain-group. The Empire members seemed to be in the midst of a controlled retreat, with Krieg taking up the rear. There were three bodies on the ground already, and I could see a few more inside the civic center's breached room.

Krieg, of the Empire 88. Nazis. Fun. I hadn't known about this particular gang when I signed up to transfer here, but I did consider it a bonus on my Eldritch Abomination watch.

I hit my communicator. "Console, this is Sunstorm. Challenger and I are close to the civic center, ETA one minute. Confirmed Krieg on site, with eight members firing at another unidentified group."

I could see three more skinheads dragging a pallet by a set of chains. Their destination was most certainly an idling pickup truck. Something big and heavy, though it was covered by a tarp.

Just as Challenger was moving to intercept the pallet, I dropped down right into the middle of the firefight. I spread my wings to block as much of the line of sight as possible, and felt bullets smack against my face, my chest, my stomach, and my wing membranes. Predictably, they did very little to me, the bullets themselves flattening on my skin before dropping to the ground. My armored chest did take a few dents, but the damage would be minor. I'd probably have to reforge the chestpiece anyway. Not that hard.

The guns abruptly stopped firing. There was a moment of surprise, of shock, on the Nazis. I couldn't see Krieg's expression, due to his mask, but he certainly tensed up.

"I suggest giving up now." I said mildly, plastering on a winning smile.

Then Challenger roared up behind the crowd. Still on her motorcycle, she swung her axe, cutting the pallet's chain. Metal snapped, and the clink of the chains hitting concrete echoed.

With her helmet on, it was hard to see Challenger's expression, but her voice was filled with eager amusement. "Gentlemen, you're all now under arrest."

"Nein." Krieg snarled, raising his rifle toward her.

I moved forward in a burst of speed. As I neared Krieg, I could feel his power working on me, slowing me down. Despite that, however, I wasn't aiming for him. I grabbed the rifle's barrel with my left hand and tore the weapon from his grip. It was difficult, actually the hardest thing I'd had to do since I arrived in this reality. It was even hard to breathe near him.

Thankfully, I didn't actually have to breathe, so long as I had heat. It was just nice to do. Though I couldn't quite repress the instinctive fear of suffocation entirely.

I snapped the very expensive-looking rifle in two, then dropped the pieces to the ground. Challenger drove around the group of skinheads, swinging her axe with seeming wild abandon, but the blade never met flesh. Instead, guns went flying into the air, either cut in pieces or simply heavily dented. With the long handle of her axe, she sent Nazis tumbling, even as she circled around the group on her motorcycle, cackling like a maniac the entire time.

Still, despite her prowess, she couldn't get to all the weapons in a few swings. As one skinhead on the outskirts of the fight raised his shotgun toward Challenger, I dove forward and grabbed the shotgun. It still went off, but instead of going in Challenger's general direction, the slug flattened itself against my hand. The shotgun's barrel itself split open from the stress, and the thug looked at the broken weapon with wide eyes.

I grabbed the thug's shirt, then very gently threw him at two of his buddies, sending the group rolling onto the ground. I didn't want to even try hitting him with speed or strength, as I just didn't have the time to gauge my blows. Unlike with the Nine, I couldn't take these guys on one at a time. Thankfully, so far only one had a power.

Speaking of, I felt bullets smack into my back, the back of my head, and my wings. I turned around and looked at Krieg firing a pistol with no amusement whatsoever.

He only stopped when Challenger picked up one of his men and tossed him at Krieg. While the man was slowed through the air, the two still fell together in a tangle of limbs. Pushing my way through the resistance of Krieg's power, I put my foot on his chest as he managed to free himself from his groaning compatriot. As the resistance increased, I looked at him with a glare and put just a bit more pressure on him.

Thankfully, he got the message, and it became easy to breathe and move again.

As the two Nazis remaining on their feet looked at us with fear, I smiled sweetly. "Gentlemen, and I use that term very loosely. I'd suggest giving up now. If you don't, well..." I gestured to Challenger.

She also smiled sweetly, resting that long axe on her shoulder. "Please. Resist."

I smiled as they set their guns down, and that's a really bright lig-

----------

Pain.

"What fools dare to face the might of Black Adam?" The man himself floated towards us, the black suit and golden lightning bolt on his chest prominent. He looked angry, and that was never a good thing.

"That's us!" Blackwing said brightly. "Eight fools ready to throw down!"

With a snarl, Black Adam lunged at her. I stepped in the way, arresting his motion by catching his fists. I still slid backward, but we did stop before he could strike my more fragile friend.

"Abomination." Black Adam growled.

"Asshole!" I yelled. Then I sheathed myself in flame, moving forward to trade blows with him. I couldn't hurt him very much, but I could slow him down, keep him occupied, while the rest of us worked on whittling down his focus and stopping the ritual.

He barely noticed my blows, but he simply could not put me down. Not while I was sheathed in fire, focused on his own moves. We moved like one, his fists striking at me, missing at times as I dodged or turned the blow aside. He lashed out with a blast of lightning, forcing a scream from my lips as I hit the ground. With a feral grin on his lips, he dashed forward, only for Stormlord to strike Adam with his hammer. The room rumbled with the crack of thunder. Adam slammed into a wall. The ancient Khandqi wall collapsed around him, throwing dust all over the room.

"How did you like the taste of that?" Stormlord spoke, his typical arrogance somewhat subdued in the moment.

Black Adam dug his way out of the rubble a mere second later, snarling in rage. He then looked downward, where Faust was conducting his ritual over the body of Isis. He stilled, clenching his fists, then came at us much more cautiously.

I was already back on my feet, Bitterleaf's magic filling me, strengthening me. Black Adam tried to dash forward, to murder my friends, but I slammed into him at my full speed, using my fist to break his teeth.

He slowly turned to look in my eyes, sheer anger rising. With bloodied lips, he started to speak "SHA-"

He choked as something flew into his mouth, then it was filled with white foam. His eyes went wide as I picked him up and slammed him, head-first, into the ground. Thanks for the opening, Ginger.

Lightning still forced me back, and when Adam got to his feet, there was murder in his eyes.

Pain my old friend. I did not miss you at all.

I slowly opened an eye to find darkness greeting me. I did have the lovely taste of concrete dust on my tongue, and also the coppery-iron taste of blood. Whatever hit me must have packed quite the punch.

I could hear movement above me, metal on rock. Desperate voices, though not the words themselves. I tried moving to feel around, and found I was buried in rubble. What does it say about me that this is far from the first time this has happened?

Note for the record: Being buried alive really sucks.

Using what little leverage I had, I carefully put my hands on the biggest slab of concrete on top of me and very carefully pushed. Movement hurt. Everything hurt. Breathing hurt. But if I was going to safely heal, I needed some air. I needed some space so I wouldn't accidentally roast someone alive.

There were shouts of surprise, the sounds of feet scrabbling to move away as I lifted the slab off me. Dirt and dust filled the air as I suddenly caught sunlight. While the air was cold, the light itself was welcome, and I flapped my wings as I lifted the whole thing up into the air. The slab itself was about the size of a car. Far from the heaviest thing I'd lifted, but certainly more than most people could move on short notice.

I carefully set the slab down, wiped the dust from my eyes, and looked around. I was surrounded by somewhat frightened rescue workers, their winter high-visibility vests and hard hats dirty with dust.

One came near me, gray-haired and with a lined face. I put my hand up. "Don't."

He swallowed. "I need to see if you're injured."

No shit I'm injured. I wanted to snap. I took a deep breath, then gave him as gentle a smile as I could. "Yes, but you just haven't got the tools. I'll be all right." I looked around, taking a moment to wipe my mouth. "Is anyone else trapped?"

Heads shook. Stress-lines spoke. "No, you were buried deep. Purity hit you hard. We'd have thought you were dead if we couldn't hear you scrabbling around down there."

I looked into the hole I just flew out of. It was at least five feet deep and a fair bit away from where I had been standing. At least forty feet. Lovely. That must have taken a hell of a lot of force. "Well, thanks. Where's Challenger?"

Stress-lines grimaced. "Had to pull her out first. She got clipped, they're probably pulling metal out of her right now. You should probably get checked out by an EMT, at least." He gestured over at an ambulance I hadn't noticed, with waiting techs.

I sighed, taking a moment to wipe my face. "It won't help, but I appreciate the sentiment. Challenger would be sent to Brockton General, right?"

At the nod, I lifted myself into the air. Yep, there's the pain again. "Right. I'll check in there."

"Uh... you might want to..." He gestured downward.

I paused for a moment, then looked down. "Not again." Suddenly I was feeling a fair bit colder. Right. HQ first. And... yeah, my communicator was busted.

Once I was above the buildings, I unleashed my fire to coat me once more. As always, it soothed my aches and pains, making me feel so much better. It took a fair bit of my reserves of heat, but that was all right. I would hopefully have enough time to replenish my reserves without too much trouble.

This was a very shitty first day.

I hoped Challenger was okay.

SirWillShiny-hoarding DragonOct 30, 2022

#1,054

"Geist. Alabaster. Heimdal. Modi. Magni. Skadi. Purity. Report." Allfather spoke, the speakerphone on his study's desk blinking red. Under ordinary circumstances, doing such a conference call would be unwise. Wiretap technology had been around for more than eighty years, and undoubtably if the government had any idea who were members of the Empire, his line would be tapped in a hot minute.

All he could do was replace his phone system on a regular basis, keeping a spare locked in a safe when not in use. Perhaps it was a bit paranoid. Perhaps not, considering the Empire had lasted fifteen years since he founded it. Caution had prevented arrest and allowed them to achieve their goals, or at least keep up with the rigid resilience of Marquis and the sheer chaos of the Teeth.

Geist laughed over the line. "Managed to find some of the Teeth's men sniffing around. They're good and lost now. They're not going to be found."

Heimdal laughed, his deep voice filled with mirth. "It was quite the show Magni and Modi put on. The Butcher's pissed off, but there's not much that maniac can do about it. I'm betting he's going to hit back. He's loading up on the heaviest stuff he's got as we speak. If Skadi works her magic on the road, though, we can delay their party long enough to be someone else's problem."

"Excellent." Allfather spoke, folding his fingers. His eyes strayed to the replaced carpet. For a moment, he could see Max lying here, eyes open, face filled with fear.

Purity spoke, sounding satisfied. "Krieg led the group on the civic center. Challenger confronted us, but Marquis must have hired a freak. I took her out, Challenger got hit by some of the debris. So did some of our guys, but we pulled out before the cops showed up. I hope the freak cost Marquis a pretty penny. Still got the package, whatever it is."

That made Allfather sit up in his chair, a sinking feeling taking hold in his chest. "A freak? Describe them."

Purity sounded confused. "What does it matter? Fucking monster cape. Was going to kill Krieg. You should have seen the smile on her face. She looked like she was going to eat our men."

Allfather leaned closer to the speaker, his voice harsh. "Describe them, Purity. It's important."

"Looked like a goddamned demon. Considering how we found Max's body, I wouldn't be surprised if the bitch is the one who killed him. We know Marquis did it, or at least he's fucking responsible for it."

"A demon?" Allfather sat ramrod straight in his chair. "Red skin, yellow eyes, horns? Blue armor?"

"Yes. Why does it matter?"

Allfather sucked in a breath, feeling a bit faint. "That was not a mercenary hired by Marquis. That was Sunstorm, a cape that was just transferred here by the Protectorate."

A moment passed, then Alabaster's voice echoed over the line. "Well, shit."

"Indeed." Allfather spoke, his voice growing cold. "The Protectorate has not considered us a high priority, concentrating more on the Teeth, trying to find a way to contain the Butcher. You're certain she's dead?"

It took a moment for Purity to respond, her voice wavering a bit. "I hit her hard, she got buried in the pavement. She probably got reduced to chunky salsa by the sheer pressure."

"Possible." Allfather spoke softly. On one hand, he hoped not, as she had saved his life. On the other, such sentimentality was a weakness he could not afford. "Regardless, the government will see this as a substantial escalation on our part. They were wary of sending much more into the city with the Butcher here, especially after they murdered Iridescent, White Rabbit and Sheathe. This will change that balance. Get the package to me. Gather your resources. Be ready."

----------

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Lucy slowly opened her eye. Eye singular, as the other was bandaged up. Also, the rather familiar fuzz of morphine lay over her thoughts. That was fading rather rapidly, due to the interference of her power.

It was a rather depressing day when she discovered she couldn't get drunk.

It had advantages. Healing quickly was one thing. Being strong, tough, smart. Well, sort of. Lucy wasn't any smarter than before... before, but you would be surprised how much you could get done when you had more time to think on things. Subjectively, anyway.

Being dumb really fast was almost as good as being a genius, right? Right.

Taking a moment to brush her short black hair aside, Lucy took a few deep breaths, feeling some pain in her ribs. Feeling sore, Lucy slowly turned her head, realizing she was in the Protectorate infirmary. Good. Best healthcare money could buy. She slowly scanned the room, her breath hitching as she saw a fucking nightm... wait. Not a nightmare. Well, if it was, it was the kind of nightmare she wouldn't mind having more often. The demonic form of Sunstorm was lying on a chair, eyes closed, snoring. She was wearing a yellow tank-top, cheap looking jeans, and her snores were actually kind of cute.

Right, new coworker. She was there and very pretty and... how the fuck was she not dead!?

A burning bright twin-helix blast slammed into Sunstorm with teeth-rattling force, the sheer noise of the impact itself making the windows of the civic center rattle. Her form was buried deep into the pavement, slabs of concrete coming loose and falling over the demonic cape. Challenger's ears rang, the tinnus distracting, and it felt like her legs would fall out from under her. With the sudden disorientation, it took a moment for Challenger to regain her footing. Just in time for her to turn her gaze skyward.

Purity was floating there, like the shining avatar of a merciless sun-god. Light gathered in Purity's hands, and it took all of Challenger's enhanced reflexes to dodge to the side. She couldn't hope to dodge the beam itself, but she could dodge away from where the neo-Nazi was aiming. When the hand moved, so did Challenger with as much force as she could muster.

Concrete shattered. Pain. With her mind running on overdrive, Lucy had a good long look as flecks of pavement shattered her visor, tearing into the left side of her fac-

Oh. Fuck.

BeepBeepBeepBeep. Yep, there's that panic. Shitshitshit.

She went to reach up to pull at the bandages, but Sunstorm's voice broke into her thoughts before she could. "Don't. Still healing, according to the Doc. You heal fast, but not that fast."

Lucy took deep breaths, looking back over at Sunstorm, swallowing in a suddenly dry throat. "W-water."

The demonic cape nodded, grabbing a glass and heading off to the washroom. Lucy just breathed slowly, trying to organize her thoughts. Carefully, she reached around until she found the bed controls and elevated the back, glad to be in a sitting position.

When Sunstorm returned with a full glass, Lucy took it and drank it down. She immediately felt better, though still pretty rough. "How long was I out?"

"Two days." Sunstorm spoke, nodding with a soft smile. "Christmas Eve is tomorrow. We moved you back to HQ once the docs saw you were stable."

Lucy nodded slowly, the heart monitor stabilizing as she slowly calmed herself down. "How did you survive? That looked like a hell of a hit."

Sunstorm shrugged. "I've been hit harder, by worse. I just wasn't prepared for it. Still put me down for a while, though. I need to stretch my limits." She gave a teasing smile. "Right now they haven't officially announced my survival. I wanted to see if you'd pull through first."

Lucy chuckled, the act only slightly painful. "Were you going to avenge little old me? We've only known each other a couple hours."

Those crimson lips quirked up in amusement. "You're nuts, but you're on my side. Where did you learn to drive, anyway?"

Lucy grinned. "Taught myself. Never had an accident, either."

"Why am I not surprised?" Sunstorm said dryly, her golden eyes filled with amusement. "Also, while I bet you've never had an accident, I'll also bet there were a bunch of mysterious accidents around you."

"I'll never tell." Lucy grinned.

They shared silence for a moment, then Sunstorm chuckled and shook her head. "Right. Anyway, we're gathering up strength. With what the Empire did we're getting new transfers in. Mostly PRT troops, though. Just one cape. Not many volunteers, but we go to war with the army we have, not the one we wish."

Lucy nodded. "Right, let me get up and-"

"You can sit right down and rest until you're cleared for duty. Things aren't so pressing that you need to get back in the saddle right away." Sunstorm spoke with a surprising amount of authority. Huh. Maybe her dossier wasn't completely full of delusions. Lucy had seen the press conference. Sunstorm sounded like she was either insane or she was from an insane world. Probably both.

Still, Lucy sighed. "You do remember I'm the Protectorate leader here, right?"

Sunstorm smiled with some mirth. "Yep. When you're on duty. Right now you're on leave, which puts Velocity in charge. Not that it matters much." She turned and went to the door. "Now I need to go make a statement."

Lucy couldn't help but grin. "Make sure they remember it."

"Oh I think they're going to remember. Even Nazis with their terrible memory. They're history's losers. They just need a reminder."

----------

Director Travers sighed as he set his pen aside, casting a side-eye at the pile of paperwork on his desk.

The in-tray was distressingly larger than the out-tray. As always. Paperwork was the lifeblood and bane of government agencies, and the PRT was no different. Not for the first time, he envied the leadership of the gangs. They undoubtedly had to deal with some, but likely not anywhere near as much as this.

His phone beeped. "Director, your seven o'clock is here."

Ah. That was a bit of a bright spot. Even if it did bring more paperwork. "Send him in."

His door swung open, and in strode a man in powered armor, colored blue. It was crude, compared to some examples Travers had seen, but in fairness, Hero's work was well-established. This 'Armsmaster' hadn't had time to refine his work just yet. Armor was always difficult, even for the established Tinkers. It took time to build the tools and infrastructure to make even a simple set of armor with efficiency, and that was much harder for a set of Tinker gear. Still, even with that, Armsmaster moved easily, showing that despite how crude the current work was, he had spent a fair bit of time on it. His eyes were hidden by a dark visor, his helmet smooth and rounded. Only his mouth and chin were visible. It made reading some expressions easy, though Travers never quite liked that kind of PR concession. Never quite practical.

Travers smiled politely. "Armsmaster. Welcome to Brockton Bay."

Armsmaster nodded curtly. "I appreciate my transfer being approved ahead of schedule. Situation?"

"Rough. Challenger is wounded, though healing. Sunstorm is recovered. Miss Militia and Velocity are on patrol. Nighthawk is our only current Ward, often unavailable. Kid came right after his point zero. More sense than most."

Armsmaster's lip twitched slightly, in a disapproving way. "As for our opponents?"

Travers grimaced. "Teeth are moving. The Empire's set off a hornet's nest. Marquis is likely licking his wounds and looking to capitalize on an opening. We're fairly sure the attack on the civic center was part of Marquis' operations, though we don't know how important it was. We're investigating, but so far there's no evidence of anything of importance stored there. Whatever the Empire took, the men at the civic center are keeping their mouths shut. Either they don't know or are just good at not telling us."

"Mm." Armsmaster nodded slowly. "I've some ideas about making interrogations easier, but it'll take some time to build the software. Making it more portable would be more difficult."

Travers grinned. "It would make things a bit easier. Put your proposals on my desk and I'll get to it." He glanced at the pile of paperwork. "Well, eventually."

Armsmaster looked to the pile, then looked back to Travers. "Anyone else transferring in?"

Travers shook his head. "The higher-ups don't want to risk a higher-rated hero with the Butcher here. Sunstorm requested to be here for her own reasons. They wanted her somewhere else, but she insisted." He shrugged. "I'm not complaining there, but it's a risky situation all around."

"We've met briefly." Armsmaster nodded. "She was as pleasant as possible, considering the circumstances."

"I saw the video." Travers grimaced. "Not the best start to a career I've seen."

Armsmaster was still, then he shook his head. "Could be better, I agree. Still better than doing nothing. As for the Butcher, I have some ideas. I need time to get them built, but I've already got some of the preliminary work done. The problem is containment. It might have been easier before Six. Seven's much more difficult and it'll only get worse, I'm sure."

Travers nodded at that, then put on a smile. "Regardless, welcome to the team."

----------

Mayor Roy Christner was enjoying the quiet evening. Christmas was coming, and the people of Brockton Bay were trying to prepare for the season. The Christners were no different.

As he tided up his office to prepare for the holiday season, his cell phone rang. Grumbling, he set his briefcase down, fished through his pockets, flipped it open and brought it to his ear. "Mayor Christner."

"Greetings Mayor Christner. This is Sunstorm from the local Protectorate. I hope this isn't a bad time?"

He listened, frowning. "Yes, I know who you are. What can I do for a member of the Protectorate?"

"I have a proposal for you. The Empire Eighty-Eight attempted to kill me two days ago. They also wounded Challenger, and have been rather disruptive on the city. I intend to make a statement about it tomorrow."

"Yes. I see. What did you have in mind?"

"I want to move the Albert out of the Bay's channel. I just need approval and somewhere to put that tanker."

"That... that's a hell of a statement. That's also a lot heavier than a jumbo jet. You think you can do that?"

"If I can't in one go, I can tear it apart and haul away the pieces. Wouldn't be my preferred statement, but it would still work. Got a place I can drop it off, either intact or in pieces?"

He considered that. "There's nowhere around that's ready to take something that big. There's an inlet further north from here. If you can get it on land, but at least off the highways, we can probably take it from there. Can you give me a couple of weeks to look at locations?"

"Has to be done quickly for impact. Tomorrow, Mayor. Call it a Christmas present for the whole city if you have to."

"No, please. I get the idea, but things have to be done safely. If the Albert gets torn up while you're moving it, it could leak toxic materials out into the water. That'll definitely happen if you have to tear the ship apart. We need some time to arrange things. Midwinter definitely isn't the best time of year for it, especially not before Christmas. Let me make some calls, get the experts here."

There was a pause. "I hadn't considered that. How about making it a New Year's present for the city, then?"

He chuckled. "I'll make the arrangements. This will help a lot of people, or at least give us a fighting chance."

"That's the idea, Mayor Christner. Well, if I can't just move the Albert, mind if I borrow one of the smaller rustbucket ships? The statement still has to be made. I'll also clean up after myself."

Roy grinned. "I appreciate that. Technically they're abandoned property and owned by the city, but as long as the mess is cleaned up, I think there won't be any issue with the Protectorate borrowing some defunct assets."

"Good to hear. Check the news tomorrow. I'm sure it'll be entertaining."

Considering the situation, it was rather remarkable that this city had held on as long as it has. The Protectorate was undermanned, due to the Butcher murdering some local heroes and the higher-ups wanting to prevent more powerful ones from becoming the next Butcher. The Empire was a festering sore of low-level violence. Marquis was an old-school mafioso who just happened to get lucky with a power.

With the Empire having moved in an insane campaign over the last few days, things were going to get very messy if things weren't crushed. The Teeth were moving, the Butcher at the head, and the Empire was responding. Both sides had effectively dismissed the Protectorate as a factor. While people knew I'd survived, despite the Protectorate not making an official statement either way, there had been some rumors of me dying to my wound, or at the very least in heavy recuperation.

Momentum was important for this kind of thing. The Empire had to move to take territory, to break their opponents. Otherwise Marquis would dig his men in place, or strike back. Then they had to take out as many members of the Teeth as possible to make them less of an issue. I believed they would move no later than Christmas Day, hence my own preparations.

So when night fell on Christmas Eve and Alabaster, Magni and Modi gathered six men together to defend against a retaliation strike by ten of Marquis' men, it was entirely expected. The groups were fighting in the middle of downtown, citizens were trying to get away from the area. Marquis' men had pulled up in sedans, wearing armor, while the Empire were fighting from a storefront, using some of the cars out front as cover from the gunfire. We were responding, the PRT teams moving. Armsmaster borrowed Challenger's motorcycle to get there quickly, though it would take a bit more time for him to arrive than me. Even though I had to take a moment to pick up my package from where I'd stashed it under the Rig.

Said package was a ten ton ship made almost entirely of rust. I simply dropped said ten-ton ship into the firefight. The ship made a mighty crash as it hit pavement, the drop from three stories up deforming the ship and causing pavement to crack beneath it.

The purpose was three-fold. For one thing, it made a barrier between the groups, thus making it harder for bullets to actually hit their intended targets. Secondly, it got everyone's attention, getting them to focus on me rather than each other. Third, it was a demonstration of just a hint of what I could do. Sure, if I was in top shape I could do a whole lot more, but they didn't know that.

So I dropped down to land my feet lightly on top of what was left of the bridge's roof, folding my arms as I looked at the Empire members in front of me. This time, I was wearing silver armor, the better to be seen in the dark. Perched on top of my head was a Santa hat.

The bullets stopped flying. Eyes widened as the Empire's men looked at me. I turned my head to see Marquis' men doing the same thing, fear and confusion on their faces.

"Gentlemen!" I yelled. "Merry Christmas! All of you have won a free cruise!" I tapped the broken ship's roof with my foot. "Perks involve two meals per day, a shower three times a week, and lodging! If you surrender now you won't visit the hospital first!"

A moment passed, then gunfire started erupting once more.

Typical.

"Demon bitch!" Alabaster shouted.

They didn't have very good aim, but bullets still splashed against me. My face, my back. It felt like gentle rain. I wouldn't have minded so much except that some of the bullets would deflect at unpredictable angles.

My backup was about thirty seconds away. The less they had to deal with, the better.

First, disable their guns. If I'd been in top shape I could have used superspeed to snatch them all in under a second, but I just wasn't and so I had to use other options. At least, if I wanted to take them all in alive.

So I reached to my belt, pulled off a standard-issue PRT flashbang grenade, pulled the pin and tossed it straight up into the air. With all the bullets flying and the darkened lot, the two gangs didn't notice it until it went off.

The men screamed, covering their ears, their eyes. Since I could handle the noise and light, however, while they were reeling I launched myself at Marquis' men. More specifically, at their weapons. I snatched up and destroyed three rifles before the next one even began to recover. The fourth man managed to shoot me with his rifle before I could get to him. The bullet flattened against my face.

Seriously, don't these people learn?

I grabbed the rifle, snapped it in two, then tossed the two halves at two more of the recovering men. Given their armor, I could afford to be a bit more rough.

"Argh!"

"You bitch!" The second one wheezed as he rolled on the ground.

I ignored him, already moving to grab the seventh rifle. Its owner tried to pull back, screaming in fear, but I simply grabbed the rifle, snapped it, then pushed the armored man at the recovering, disarmed men. Two of them went down in a tumble together, while the others started to turn back towards their cars.

It was at that moment Armsmaster showed up, Challenger's motorcycle roaring underneath him. The PRT vans were right behind him, screeching into the parking lot, immediately disgorging troopers and firing tear gas canisters. The few of Marquis' men still on their feet started towards their cars, but Armsmaster drove the bike between thugs and vehicle. He unsheathed and swung his halberd in a single motion, toppling the men over by using the flat of the blade. The others out of reach of Armsmaster himself ended up trying to scramble away, coughing and puking as they struggled to get away.

Cars rumbled behind me, and I turned my head to see the Empire members trying to drive away in three separate vehicles. With the route blocked by the PRT vans, they drove over the grass as they attempted to get to the nearest road.

I made a burst of speed, getting in front of the lead car. I could see Alabaster's face through the windshield, his eyes narrow with determination. As the car reached me, I ducked down, grabbed the front of the car, and flipped it upside-down. It screeched as it slowed, sparks flying, metal screeching on the pavement, but came to a complete stop soon enough. It wouldn't hurt Alabaster, anyway.

The other two cars were now on the road, tires screeching. The troopers advanced on the car I'd already disabled.

I burst into the air and followed the other two cars, flying through the air. As they drove at high speeds through the city streets, I knew I had to stop them before they reached high-traffic areas. So I dropped down in front of the first car, which was already doing around seventy. The look on the nameless skinheads' faces were hilarious. I flew backward, just slightly slower than the car's speed. Then I punched through the hood and tore the engine out. It was hot and smoking in my hand as it sputtered and died.

The car slowed, assisted as I pushed against its momentum, finally stopping as it ran out of energy. I set the engine on the destroyed hood as I turned to look at the last car. The very classic-looking car screeched to a stop, two masked men getting out. The first man wore a red and black business suit, his black mask jagged and resembling a skull. The other wore a white and blue one, his own white mask resembling a handsome man.

Magni and Modi, the twins. Known superstrength and coordination, though to what degree wasn't known. The two looked to each other, nodded, then grabbed the undercarriage of the car Magni had been driving. As I dashed toward them, they threw the car at me. I grabbed the car out of the air like it was a beachball, metal crumpling as my hands dug into the hood, then dropped the thoroughly damaged car on the ground.

"You idiots!" I shouted at the pair. "You threw a Thunderbird at me. A Thunderbird! Do you have any idea how rare these cars are!? Now it's wrecked!"

"Was worth a shot." Magni said, sounding uncaring.

"Better the car than us." Modi said.

As if they shared one mind, the two came at me. I blocked Magni's blow for my side, only for Modi to manage to strike me on the side of the head. It barely hurt at all, yet when I tried to kick at Modi in return, Magni managed to grab my leg and fling me away from them.

I flipped myself over, stopping in the air before I'd gone more than ten feet. Still, that was annoying. That was my move!

This time I planted my feet on the ground and strode forward, concentrating on being immovable. Basically just by flapping my wings in such a way to push myself down.

Magni and Modi attacked as one once more. Magni struck with a wild haymaker at my face, while Modi aimed for a kidney shot. I... simply let them hit me, while bracing myself.

Both of them howled in pain, in complete sync, as their hands broke. Yeah, you guys can lift a car together, but you can't break me. Grabbing the pair by their shoulders, I slammed them together. Both huffed in pain as air was driven from their lungs.

I got a bit of a surprise myself when I went to slap Magni upside the head (gently, so as not to pulverise him) that it was my palm that stung, while he seemingly barely felt it. The brothers then grabbed my arm with their intact hands and tried to flip me over. Emphasis on tried. The pavement beneath their feet was starting to groan and crack with the effort, but I wouldn't move without letting it happen.

I decided to test a hypothesis. I grabbed Magni's forearm with my left hand and forced his hand into Modi's belly.

Both brothers let out a wheeze. Yup, thought so. They were linked on a deeper level than just mental. More importantly, they can hurt each other.

"Hey Magni?" I spoke cheerfully.

Magni's eyes widened under his mask.

I forced his hand to smack into his brother with just enough force to be painful.

"Stop hitting yourself." Smack. "Stop hitting yourself." A push, and a painful grunt. "Stop hitting yourself."

The pair, while strong and dangerously coordinated, were rather helpless considering. Once both of them were wheezing and rather subdued, I slackened on the punishment. Once they were disabled, I grabbed them by the front of their very expensive suits and dragged them back toward the car that had its engine ripped out.

The doors were open and the skinheads within were long gone.

Fuck.

Well, better two grunts than two empowered, but I'm far too used to fighting robots and fanatics. Those rarely retreated from a losing situation. I have fought criminals, but usually as part of an operation hitting a base where they couldn't retreat so easily. Still, it rankled.

I took a minute to wrap Magni and Modi up in the destroyed wreck of the car. With their strength it might be difficult to keep them restrained, but it might slow them down a bit. At least until we had some better options to work with. I'd have to break their arms and legs otherwise.

I almost stumbled as I felt something slam into my back. It actually did sting just a little. I turned around to see a figure wearing red leather armor standing on the rooftop of a two-story storefront, with a blood-red helmet and scowling demon mask. He held in his hands a 50 caliber rifle.

I launched myself into the air, reaching out to grab the rifle when the figure suddenly vanished from my grasp. They did reappear in a loud explosion on the far side of the rooftop. Their body language was completely relaxed.

I froze as I fully realized who I was facing. "Butcher."

He chuckled. "Sunstorm. We're pleased to meet you."

"Why did you just try to kill me?"

Butcher gestured to the gun. "This? Please. It was just a love tap, considering what we saw you do. I wanted your attention, little demon."

I clenched my fist, then forced myself to relax. It rankled, but if we had to fight I had to retreat. For ordinary people there was a fine line between disabling and killing, and for the Butcher that was much harder. I really didn't want to risk becoming the next one. Ricochet lasted only a few days after his kill of Butcher Two, and it likely wouldn't have gotten any better since.

I spoke, keeping my voice steady. "What is it you want?"

"To give a message." He sounded amused. "Take on the Empire, take out that bone-headed fuck, I don't care. Then fucking leave my city. Brockton is mine. You can't stop me, you can't kill me, and we know what it is you fear. Your government means nothing to us. You have no leverage over us. All your power will be useless to you. You will either leave, or we will add you to our screaming chorus."

For a moment, I considered trying to take him in. Just a moment. Unfortunately that would likely take some time and, if I didn't want to risk the twins escaping, I had to decide where my priorities lay. It definitely wasn't worth risking becoming Eight.

So I folded my arms. "Message received. Now piss off, I have work to do."

He let out a bark of laughter. "Oh, we like you." Then he vanished, with a slight pop from the displacement of air.

Great. Walking cliche. Worst part is I can't even fault him for it. If you're immortal, why not have some stupid villainous fun? I'm sure if he had more money Butcher would be living out a fortress shaped like a skull.

Worst part is... now I had to clean up the mess. At least it wouldn't take me too long.

----------

"It went well?" Challenger asked, her face still bandaged up. She was lying on her bed in the infirmary, a book set on the bedside. Mechanics for Dummies. Well, I suppose that's one way to pass the time.

I nodded. "Yup. Three of the Empire's lineup captured. We're going to have to do something to cut off their support, as they're definitely getting funds and hardware from somewhere. If we can get enough of them behind bars, though, things are going to get easier."

She nodded, frowning slightly. "Not going to be easy. They're going to escalate in response. That's if we don't get the attention of the Butcher, either."

"Too late for that. Butcher showed up after I nabbed the Super Nazi Brothers."

Challenger let out a snort. "Since you're not currently talking to yourself, I'm guessing it went well?"

I shrugged. "Well enough. He wants us to leave the city. Let him have his own little fiefdom. I can kind of see what he's going for, considering his power, but things would have to get really, really bad here before we'd consider pulling out. Shit, I don't even know what it'd take. Probably a lot more than the Butcher. At least, the current one."

"That's the problem, though, isn't it?" Challenger spoke, her eye focused on me. "There's going to be more. If one of us becomes Eight, they get all the knowledge and power."

"Don't worry." I smiled. "I have a plan."

Challenger lifted an eyebrow.

I sighed. "Okay. I have the general shape of a plan. There's a lot of details that need to be filled first."

"You ever have anything like the Butcher back home?"

I thought about it, then sighed. "Only one I know like it is Deadman. He does possess people, but he's a hero. He usually only does it because he can't stop a big problem otherwise. He doesn't stick around, though, and he doesn't drive the person insane. Though now I'm wondering why someone doesn't just clone a blank slate for him to live in permanently."

Challenger sounded dubious. "You have a ghost-guy named Deadman?"

I shrugged. "Guess being dead kills your creativity."

"That was bad. You should feel bad." She looked at me seriously, though I could see her lip twitching.

I pouted, deliberately widening my eyes, a small whine coming from my throat.

She kept the serious face for a moment, then finally snorted into chuckles.

I grinned. "Anyway, I don't want to jinx what we're doing. I'll check up on you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow's Christmas. Don't you have anyone to spend it with? Even if we're on call you should have someone to spend the evening with." Challenger asked.

I shook my head. "Just Legend, really. I don't know very many people on this planet. So I've got to deal."

"Right." She nodded slowly, her voice faint. "Not so far off from the more typical situation with the odd capes, there. I don't have anybody either."

I smiled. "Well, guess I'll just have to camp out here. Assuming... nope. Not going to finish that sentence."

"Too late, there." Challenger snickered. "Feel free to borrow my axe to tell fate to fuck off tomorrow."