Chapter 75: Ruinous gift
URGENT. Come to the Ruby Dreams Casino. Bring Dean, Crystal, and Eric. Civvies. DO NOT tell the parents or the PRT.
That was the message Amy had sent her and every single word of it was an individual red flag. At the very least, Vicky was fairly sure that her sister didn't need rescuing if she was asking them to come in civvies, but that was the only bit of silver lining.
She was even specifically asking for Dean's presence. Dean. Amy hated Dean!
It could be a trap, theoretically, but she didn't believe it. Amy wouldn't do that, villain or not.
Vicky was having to work hard to resist the urge to just fly there. It felt like every single traffic light in the city was determined to be red.
"Hey, calm down, we're almost there." Dean said soothingly.
"I am calm!" Vicky yelled calmly.
Eric snorted, the little shit.
"There's the casino." Crystal pointed out, cutting off any further bickering.
Vicky remembered the Ruby Dreams looking terribly out of place the few times she'd flown over it in the past. A sparkly building sitting in the middle of a neighborhood that was obviously falling apart.
Now it looked… still out of place, but not quite as much. Now it was a sparkly building in the middle of a neighborhood that was seeing a lot of construction activity.
Dean parked the car and they all warily made their way to the entrance. Amy was already waiting for them there, next to an Asian guard in a sharp suit. He looked way too professional to be in a gang.
And Amy was looking good, too. She was actually wearing some semi-formal slacks, shoes that weren't just sneakers, and a really nice blouse! Her hair looked like it had been given a spa treatment and she looked well-rested. In any other situation, Vicky would have teased her.
But her message said urgent, and there was obvious stress in her expression, so Vicky rushed forward to hug her.
"What's wrong? Your message said it was urgent." She said.
"It is." Amy said tersely, eyes flicking over to the others. "You brought Dean. Good. Come on, everyone else is already here."
"Everyone else?" Vicky echoed. "Who else? What's going on?"
"Everything will be explained, now come on!" Amy said insistently, pulling her along with obvious impatience.
Vicky exchanged confused and worried looks with the others. Amy was never this forceful before, and she somehow doubted it was entirely the result of her new villain status.
Dean caught her eyes and mouthed 'afraid ', which really did nothing to assuage her concerns.
The casino was fairly busy, but they moved through the crowds of gamblers with ease. The door to the staff area was guarded by another slick-looking Asian guy in a suit, but he held the door open for them with a respectful nod. Amy even got a deferential 'Ma'am' from him!
"So, you're a ma'am now?" Vicky tried to break the tension a bit.
Amy blushed brightly. "Things are different on the villain side. Instead of fans, we get minions."
"… can you make them do errands?" Vicky asked, imagining what it would be like to have people to boss around.
"Yes, I can make them do errands." Amy replied, giving her a deadpan look. "That's what minions are for."
Wow. That was an answer alright.
"I guess you got settled into this villain thing pretty good, huh?" Crystal said with a strange look on her face.
Amy just shrugged. "Taylor does most of the work. She might call the rest of us her lieutenants, but in all honesty it's kind of impossible to keep up with her. Whenever I have to actually make a decision, it's more like picking an option on a multiple-choice answer sheet."
"So she's micromanaging you?" Vicky asked, concerned.
"Oh no, don't get me wrong, I could decide things all by myself if I wanted to." Amy paused, looking momentarily exasperated. "It's just that Taylor puts so much thought into every single detail that it would take me weeks of research just to get prepared to start thinking about it properly. When I asked if making better drugs is really a good idea, she dumped a five hundred page report on the financial, medical, economic, historical, cultural, psychological, and geopolitical forces influencing the global drug trade on me to support her position. And she puts that kind of effort into everything."
"Ah, fucking Thinkers." Vicky nodded sagely.
"Fucking Thinkers." Amy agreed.
"What kind of power even is that?" Eric asked, bewildered.
The heroes had been wondering that since she first showed up, so it wasn't like Amy was going to rat her boss out now.
"Multitasking." Amy ratted out her boss without hesitation. "She can split her mind to focus on as many things as she wants."
"Should you really be telling us that?" Crystal asked, concerned.
But Amy just snorted and didn't reply. Half a minute later, she led them into a room deep in the bowels of the casino.
It was a conference room, not much different from the one in the PRT headquarters. The only difference was in the attendees.
Vicky paused when she saw many unmasked villains sitting there. Tattletale with her annoying smug grin. The pretty boy Regent. Squealer or Gearshift or Hot Rod or whatever she was calling herself these days. A short middle-aged dude with a sharp nose that looked like he was still stuck in the seventies. Some antsy-looking guy in his twenties.
Even Clockblocker was there, but she hardly noticed.
Because there was Psyker, or Taylor as her name was. And Psyker. And Psyker again.
"Bwuh?" Vicky asked intelligently, looking between the three identical teenage girls.
Well, not quite identical.
The one sitting at the head of the table was dressed very sharply, like a top class lawyer or CEO. Her suit, blouse, and pencil skirt were perfect. Her hair was done in a way that screamed professionalism. She even had a pair of stylish glasses on to enhance the look. Somehow, despite being obviously in her mid teens, she managed to radiate a sense of authority and maturity.
Another, physically identical Psyker, was standing near a refreshment table and looking like an awkward young intern. Though dressed similarly, her hair, body language and expression were completely different. It was giving Vicky mental whiplash to see the same face and be getting two conflicting impressions.
The third physically identical Psyker wasn't making it better. She was sprawled casually on a chair in the corner with a laptop in front of her, chewing on a wad of gum and dressed in a simple black T-shirt and jeans. Everything about her screamed 'pay no attention to me, I'm just tech support'.
"Victoria, , Mr. Pelham, Mr. Stansfield." The Psyker at the head of the table greeted cordially. "Please have a seat so that we can begin."
"The fuck is going on?!" A bewildered Crystal exclaimed.
"All will be explained." Psyker assured uncompromisingly. "Now sit. Time is of the essence."
Amy left them to go sit at Psyker's right hand, giving them a nod to indicate that they should obey.
Vicky, though very confused, wasn't feeling any kind of threat here. Usually, her first instinct at seeing so many villains would be to start punching, especially when she was still a bit sore about her loss against Psyker a while ago. But they were out of costume and Amy still looked worried. In fact, she noted that everyone except Psyker seemed worried. Something big was going on.
This felt more like a meeting under truce, which had all sorts of concerning implications.
"What's going on?" She asked, cautiously slipping into the seat at the opposing side of the table. It didn't escape her that she, rather than the older Crystal or Dean the Protectorate Ward, was being treated as the leader of their group.
Kind of flattering, actually.
"Just under an hour ago, Amelia and I were approached by Jack Slash. The Slaughterhouse 9 is in town." Psyker said.
Instantly, all thoughts of asking what the deal with the multiple bodies was vanished.
"WHAT?!" All the visiting heroes shouted, including her.
Vicky felt her heart hammering with fear at the mention of those psychos, and at the idea that Amy had been anywhere their leader.
"Yes, this is a truce meeting." Psyker continued, seeming completely unperturbed by the situation. The intern body approached and started handing out water bottles and little finger sandwiches, but Vicky hardly noticed, on account of the news they'd just received.
"But… why just us?" Dean asked, looking around in confusion. "If this is an S-class truce, then the Protectorate and PRT should be here. All of New Wave. Hell, even the Empire 88."
Vicky grimaced. As much as she hated the thought of working with those Nazi fucks, if it was against the Slaughterhouse 9…
"Multiple reasons." Psyker answered. "I have unfortunately been steadily driving Kaiser insane for the past few days, so he would not make for a reliable ally. I frankly don't trust Brandish to behave herself right now even under an S-class truce…"
Vicky grimaced again. That was unfortunately a fair concern. Mom had been going a bit crazy since Amy's turn to villainy. And with Dad no longer depressed, he wasn't letting her have everything her way, which was causing some pretty explosive arguments. Vicky had been spending the past few days at the Pelham house to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.
She'd known their family wasn't exactly in great shape mentally, but she had no idea that they'd been one bad day away from imploding.
"… As for the PRT and Protectorate, their own protocols will get in the way. Director Piggot has instituted a policy of mandatory Master/Stranger screening of anyone that comes into contact with either myself or Amelia. They would waste time double-checking everything, among other problems. Time that we do not have."
"Don't the Slaughterhouse 9 usually announce themselves by having Shatterbird blow up all the glass in town?" Crystal asked nervously, looking at the windows.
"Usually, yes." Psyker nodded. "I've had a dozen of my bodies armed with sniper rifles watching the sky 24/7 for weeks now, ready to shoot her down just in case their prolonged absence meant that they were coming here."
Vicky felt a chill go down her spine. Those sniper rifles could have just as easily taken her out, or any other flying cape. They could have taken out most of the opposition in Brockton Bay before anyone even realized there was a threat. Psyker really had been playing with kiddie gloves.
"Just in case?" Dean echoed weakly, looking about as sick as she felt.
"I plan for everything." Was the simple response. "Unfortunately, I was working with flawed information when planning for the Nine and let them have the initiative instead of going after them proactively. In any case, we don't actually need any help against the Nine. The situation is dire enough that I won't be playing games or holding back. You are only here because Amelia wanted to warn you, and because it was the easiest way to bring Gallant here."
That was kind of insulting.
"What do you need him for?" Vicky asked, trying not to sound too possessive.
"His emotion sensing power." Psyker answered. "Cherish, the oldest and strongest of Heartbreaker's children, joined the Nine some time ago. Much of our current issues stem from the vast range of her emotion sensing power. She doesn't have a lot of precision, but my emotional signature is unique, so she has an easy time tracking my location, which is part of the reason they were able to stay undetected for so long. I will be requisitioning Gallant's help to find a counter, since he is the only other emotion sensor in the city."
"What, is she out for revenge because you killed her dad?" Eric asked. "Is that why they're here?"
The pretty boy, Regent, snorted. "Hah! If anything, she's upset that she didn't get to do it herself. None of us liked dear old Dad."
"Yes, Regent, thank you for the commentary." Psyker's tone was clearly a polite demand to shut up.
"My pleasure, Mommy."
"Mommy?" Vicky couldn't help but echo in baffled shock.
"I adopted the rest of Heartbreaker's children. This was inevitable." Psyker answered with admirable composure. She didn't look bothered at all.
"Right…" Vicky had no idea what to say to that. "Look, I'm sure Dean will be glad to help, but no way are we sitting things out with the fucking Slaughterhouse 9 in town!"
She couldn't call herself a hero if she just did nothing.
"I can certainly find a use for you, but you would have to follow my orders." Psyker looked at her over her glasses in a way that no teenager should be capable of, her eyes lighting up with power. "Can you do that?"
"You know we're still going to tell our families and the PRT, right? I'd rather work with you through them, despite the issues you pointed out." Crystal said, sparing her the need to answer.
"Hmm, we'll see if you still think that after I bring you up to speed." Psyker replied, unbothered. She stood up, bringing a telescopic pointer out of her suit jacket and extending it with a snap.
Vicky couldn't help but notice that Amy was looking at her boss in a very certain way…
The lights dimmed and a ceiling projector turned on, showing a professional-quality colored sketch of… a very handsome guy. He had an amazing jawline and the sketch showed a shirt stretched tight over a muscular chest, broad shoulders, and bulging biceps. Prime dating material right there.
"This is Brian Laborn." Psyker said, gently smacking the telescopic pointer against the whiteboard the image was being projected on. "You may know him better as Grue."
"The beefcake is a villain? What a waste." Crystal said, not quietly enough.
"Control the thirst, sis." Eric mocked.
"Brian still leaving panties wet everywhere he shows up." Regent shook his head, fake-sniffling. "It's like he never left."
Eric chortled at his sister's blush.
The projector moved on to the next image, this time of a beautiful and rather developed black girl that couldn't be more than thirteen or fourteen. She had a purple streak in her hair and there was a veritable aura of sass coming off the sketch. There was also a distinct family resemblance between her and Grue.
"This is Aisha Laborn, Brian's younger sister. I had both of them and their parents moved to Denver under very generous terms when I started taking over the Brockton Bay underworld. There was no connection between them and us, Brian hadn't even gone out in costume since the move. And yet, Jack Slash found them. Their parents were murdered, Aisha triggered with a powerful Stranger ability that made people forget her existence, then both Laborn siblings were given to Bonesaw, who stitched them together to combine their powers."
Past the horror of it, Vicky remembered Grue's power. He was able to exude a black fog that completely blocked the senses. Combine that with a Stranger ability that made you forget…. Yeah, that was nasty.
They weren't given much time to think about it, as the projector moved on again. This time showing a sketch of a woman in an thick coat and intimidating gas mask.
"This is Bakuda." Psyker continued speaking. "Otherwise known as the Cornell Bomber, she is a bomb Tinker. Lung went to recruit her some time ago in an effort to get revenge on me for humiliating him. However, the Slaughterhouse 9 found him before he could make his move and recruited them both. They were somehow able to slip into and out of New York without attracting attention."
Vicky was getting a real bad feeling about this line of exposition.
"Some five days ago, they arrived on the outskirts of Brockton Bay. Cherish used her emotion sensing to keep track of me so that they could evade discovery. Since then, they have been randomly pulling incoming cars towards their camp, where Bakuda and Bonesaw surgically implanted tinkertech explosives into people while under the cover of Aisha and Brian's power, then let them obliviously continue on into Brockton Bay, none the wiser to what had been done to them. There could now be anywhere between a few dozen to a few hundred unknowing human bombs walking around the city. Even the Slaughterhouse 9 don't know who they are, because Bonesaw and Bakuda were working under the memory blanking fog. Why, it was almost as if they knew that I could simply rip the knowledge out of their minds." Psyker finished darkly.
Vicky couldn't even react to the confirmation that Psyker was a true psychic. This was a nightmare scenario and she couldn't for the life of her see any way of resolving it. Even evacuating the city wouldn't work, unless they could somehow give every single person at least three hundred feet of space. Maybe more.
"Wait, Jack Slash warned you that he would start blowing people up if you told anyone about this?" Tattletale said, clearly alarmed. "And you're calling his bluff?"
"Oh, it's not a bluff. He will absolutely do that." Psyker said, looking remarkably unperturbed for someone that had just condemned potentially hundreds or even thousands of people to death.
"Then why the fuck are you so calm?!" Vicky burst out, slapping a hand on the table.
"Because Jack Slash will do that anyway." The villain raised an eyebrow, taking the wind out of everyone's sails. Because yeah, the fucker would.
"How curious." Psyker said, looking at them all with calculating eyes. "His power truly is insidious."
"What?" Vicky was not the only person to be confused.
"When he approached us I noticed that he is highly in tune with his power, more so than almost any other parahuman." Psyker started explaining. "His ability to extend the edge of any blade he holds is only a smokescreen for his true power, which gives him a strong intuitive understanding of other parahumans, and also hands out idiot balls for them to juggle. Right now, you were all prepared to simply take Jack Slash's implied word – even through a second-hand source – that he would not blow anyone up as long as we played by his rules, despite the fact that he's made a career out of being as unreliable as possible."
"He's a Master?" Vicky asked in dread.
"And a Thinker." Psyker nodded.
Vicky had wondered several times in the past how a lunatic with a knife was able to control some of the worst monsters in North America. This explained everything.
"But it doesn't work on you?" Tattletale said with a slow grin.
"No, it does not." Psyker smiled back. It was not a nice expression. "Jack isn't even aware that he has this power, he thinks that he's just that clever. As a consequence, he also cannot fathom the idea that he might lose. That is a weakness we will exploit."
"Okay, but there's still hundreds of living bombs in the city." Eric pointed out nervously.
"Yes." Psyker nodded. "I and the Black Hand's Tinkers are already working on a scanner that will hopefully be able to detect them. Gallant, I will be relying on you to deliver Kid Win and Vista to us so that we can get their help."
"You want me to lure my teammates into a trap?!" Dean asked incredulously.
"Don't make it sound so nefarious. They won't be harmed or forced to work with us if they absolutely refuse, and they will be well compensated for their time if they do. I just need you to arrange a meeting."
"Why do you even need them?" Vicky interjected, confused.
"Kid Win's unknown specialty will add range to the Tinker collaboration, and Vista's power can perhaps be used to create a containment zone."
"Why not ask Armsmaster to collaborate?" Dean squirmed under the villain's expectant eyes.
"While his experience and specialty would no doubt be useful, his personality leaves much to be desired. He would constantly challenge my authority."
"And that's bad?" Crystal asked semi-sarcastically.
Psyker took off her glasses and gave the first Pelham child the most powerful 'are you stupid' look Vicky had ever seen. "I am currently thinking of millions of things at once. Can you even imagine how painfully slow-minded you all seem to me? In the time it would take Armsmaster to bluster about his qualifications, I would have already predicted every possible outcome of our interaction. I created those sketches of Brian and Aisha while you were on the way here, and this entire presentation was calculated to assure a maximum chance of securing your cooperation with minimal chance of reflexive violence. As much as I would enjoy poking holes into Armsmaster's ego, this is not the time."
She put her glasses back on and gave them all a look with an expectantly arched eyebrow. "So, are you ready to take directions from me, or would you rather rely on a severely ill woman that doesn't trust parahumans and an ambitious egomaniac that isn't immune to Jack Slash's power?"
"I see what you mean about the multiple choice thing." Vicky grumbled at her sister. "But you forgot to mention that most of the choices sound stupid."
"If it makes you feel better, you will be compensated for your troubles as well, both financially and otherwise." Psyker said, grinning wickedly. "Shopping trips with Amelia? I will wear whatever you want and even pay for everything as an apology for pepper spraying you that one time."
"What?" Amy asked with wide-eyed alarm. "No! I didn't agree to that!"
"As your villain boss, I command it. You will go shopping with me and your sister, and you will like it."
Damn, Psyker was good at this, because Vicky really was tempted by that deal.
XXXXX
Missy knew that it wasn't a date, but she couldn't help but be excited. Dean had never asked her to go somewhere with him before, not just the two of them. Especially not so late in the afternoon. And sure, it was just a trip to the mall because he needed a girl's opinion on what to get for Vicky.
But that meant that he saw her as a girl! He must have finally seen that she was growing up and that four years was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Okay, so maybe he hadn't realized it consciously, but it was progress! By the time he joined the Protectorate proper, she would be fourteen and that was almost legal. Another four years after that and there'd be nothing stopping them from being together.
She got along well with Vicky and would never do anything to try breaking them up, but just being there in case they did break up for good was fine, right? With the kind of ups and downs they had, there was no way that relationship could work out and they were sure to realize it eventually.
By the time she was old enough to start dating Dean, Missy intended to be his best friend, confidant, and shoulder to cry on. It was a foolproof plan.
It was with such thoughts swirling through her head that she didn't notice his slight nervousness, or think anything of it when the girl at the counter said the fatal words.
"I think I have what you're looking for in the back, come with me."
If she had been in a more suspicious mood, she might have realized that customers were never asked to come into the back rooms. Alas, she was busy daydreaming of coming here to shop for wedding rings with Dean.
The girl with curly black hair whose name tag read 'Taylor' that was obviously working part time at the jewelry store held open the door for them as they walked into the back.
Missy was looking around curiously at the boxes of stashed away jewelry when the door closed behind her. Then hands gripped her shoulders, making her jump in fright.
"Excuse the deception. I am Psyker and I need to talk to you." The part-timer said.
Missy reacted instantly. She couldn't use her powers on herself or other people, but she had still trained in all the martial arts they'd let her learn. With how much time she spent at base, she got lots of training done.
Unfortunately, all the martial arts skill in the world wasn't any use if you didn't have the physicality for it and Missy was still just a smaller-than-average twelve-year-old girl. Psyker had her immobilized in moments, a hand covering her mouth to keep her from screaming.
"Shhh." The villain hushed. "You're not in any danger, I just needed to talk to you alone. Look at Dean, he isn't worried."
That was a lie, Dean looked a little worried. However, he wasn't trying to help her.
"It's true, she promised not to hurt you." He said. "I'm really sorry about luring you in like this, Missy, but there's something big going on and we don't have much time."
The explanation didn't really explain anything. Missy was still confused and feeling betrayed, so she just glared at him.
"The Slaughterhouse 9 are in town." Psyker said softly into her ear, instantly making her freeze up. "And we need your help to keep the body count down."
She was slowly let go, but all hostility had left her. She still wasn't happy about being tricked, but she had to listen.
"Tell me everything." She said with as much serious professionalism she could muster.
Psyker didn't give her the condescending smile that she was so used to seeing from adults and occasionally even the older Wards, the one that said they were thinking of how cute she was. Instead, she just explained the situation and why she needed Missy's help.
It was all perfectly logical, and the villain was probably right to say that the PRT wouldn't let her do it. But this was one of those cases where it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission. She wasn't going to let people die just because they wanted to coddle her.
XXXXX
May 11th, 2011.
Lung waited until midnight to call out Psyker. He had already been waiting for so long and would wait no longer. That jester, Jack Slash, knew better than to try stopping him. The only reason Lung tolerated him was because he promised a way to force the cowardly usurper to stand and fight instead of running around.
Jack Slash had delivered on that, which was all the use Lung had for him. After this was done, He would be driven out of Brockton Bay with the rest of the trash.
Psyker arrived in the specified location on time, her costume having been upgraded from the improvised affair it had been before. Lung would take pleasure in burning it into her flesh.
"Kenta, long time no see." The insolent whelp greeted fearlessly, stopping with an oddly loud click of her heel. "You've grown even more pathetic."
Lung felt the fury boiling in his veins at her casual attitude. He would break the little bitch. "This time, you can't run."
She laughed. Laughed!
"Run?" Psyker repeated, abruptly stilling. "Run where? From who?"
The air became heavy and cold. Lung felt his instincts scream at him of danger.
"And why?!"
The shouted question came from both her mouth and from inside his brain. He felt it rattling around his mind, demanding to know who he was that she should fear him. It was accompanied by a blast of telekinetic force that sent him flying down the empty stretch of road, the tarmac tearing at his flesh.
Lung picked himself up, skin already healing. His power was ramping up in response, but the usual confidence was not there. He was feeling threatened, but he was no longer quite so sure that he could win. What was this?
I am Lung! I am the dragon!
Psyker's glowing eyes pinned him. He could feel her smile. "This battle won't be won by fire and muscle, Kenta. Your spirit will betray you."
Lung roared and charged forward, wanting to shut her up. She didn't move, waiting for him placidly. He attacked with a flaming fist, seeking to hurt but not kill. He wanted to take his time here, to show her the danger of pulling the dragon's tail.
But Psyker calmly sidestepped, pushing him aside. She was now standing behind him and Lung swung blindly, seeking to surprise her. It didn't work, and she continued to maneuver around him so that he could barely see her, much less take a proper swing, She never attacked herself.
Lung was already ramped up enough to be nearly seven feet tall. His fists were blazing with flame, his senses were sharp, and he was fast. And yet she continued toying with him, pushing him around and off balance like a lurching puppet. Her lack of aggression kept him from gaining more power.
"So many unnecessary movements." Psyker chided, giving him a light poke in the kidneys and ghosting her fingers across the back of his neck. A clear show of the damage she could have done. "I know it's a silly stereotype for Asians to know martial arts, but aren't you at least a little embarrassed?"
After gaining his power, Lung had never needed any martial arts. Eventually, he would escalate to victory, so what use would they be?
It was still true. Psyker could not win without attacking, and she could not attack without empowering him. She would tire before he did.
And yet he was embarrassed. Not because he didn't know any martial arts, but because she refused to take him seriously. The injury to his pride was unbearable.
Roaring, Lung directed a blast of flames at the frustrating girl. Everyone flinched when a burst of flame came their way, even if it wasn't powerful enough to cause any real harm.
"I always knew you were full of hot air." She mocked, not flinching even slightly. An interposed foot made him trip and stumble a few feet away from her.
"Stop dancing around and fight!" He demanded.
"You are the dancing queen. Young and sweet, only seventeen~." Psyker sang back, even striking a pose.
Lung's fury boiled over at the mockery. He bum-rushed her, intent on tackling the infuriating girl to the ground and showing her the price of insulting the dragon.
But as before, she evaded him with unnatural grace. He tried to grab at her flaring coat, but it twisted away from his fingers like it had a mind of its own. Even worse, her movements were now even more dance-like. Every time he tried to grab or hit her, she would always be just a hair out of reach. His flames passed by her and over her harrmlessly. Lung didn't know much about dancing, but he did know that it looked like she was leading him around by the nose, her graceful footwork and balance a stark contrast to his lurching.
This time, when he stumbled, it wasn't even because of anything she did. No, he had gotten tangled up by his own feet and crashed into the pavement while she twirled away.
"This is being recorded, by the way." Psyker informed him casually. "I'm going to put a music video over it and upload it to YouTube. You're going to be internet famous."
Lung could barely think straight, he was so angry, but his power still wouldn't rouse itself. It wasn't rage alone that called it forth, but the strength of his opposition, and Psyker simply did not exude any sense of threat now, despite having done so before. He could not understand it… she was clearly dangerous, so why was his power not responding?
"Fight me properly, or the bombs start going off!" He barked.
"Ah, is that up to you?" She did not sound impressed. "The rule was that we couldn't ignore a call out, not that we had to take it seriously. Jack Slash is probably having too good of a laugh at your expense right now to help you. But I suppose I should end this. Very well, I promise to hit you properly next time."
Lung disregarded everything but the last sentence. Jack Slash and those other fools would be dealt with after he avenged his honor. He would break this bitch's legs and then rape her until she cried. The dragon was not to be mocked!
Lung choked and tried to gasp for air, looking down in horror at the arm buried in his chest.
He had rushed Psyker again, and she had used a spear-hand strike to smash right past his ribs. He could feel her hand wrapped around his spine, making his world white out in pure agony.
"Got your funny bone." Psyker's whispered words rang through his mind, piercing even through the agony deafening him to the world.
She squeezed, and his spine broke. Then she kicked him away.
But Lung would not die from this. He was already healing, and growing rapidly. Metallic scales covered his flesh, preventing another such wound from happening, and a constant aura of flames now covered his form.
"Ill ooo." Lung said through a jaw and throat was was no longer human.
Psyker calmly shook the blood off her arm, ghostly blue fires burning away what continued to cling. With her other hand, she reached into her coat and took out a strange glass sphere filled with something green.
"Catch."
Lung's spine was almost healed when it reached him and burst from the heat. Green goo expanded rapidly, seeming to devour his flames to feed itself. He tried to smack it away, but it was sticky. In moments, it covered his face.
Lung knew what it was like to drown. Leviathan had held him under the sea multiple times. Back then, it had been all he could do to boil away the water to get to the air he needed. This time, the more flame he threw at the green goo, the thicker it seemed to get. Panic fueled his power more than anything ever had. He grew larger and larger in his desperation to survive. Regeneration wouldn't help against suffocation. He had to get free!
Finally, his head broke free and he took a deep breath, hacking up some of the green goo that had grown in his throat.
"Hmm, that worked out pretty well. Leet will be happy at least." Psyker said clinically from above.
Lung's head snapped up, seeing her floating in the air.
A little known fact about his power was that the further he escalated, the more clouded and bestial his thoughts became. Right now he was very escalated, and he hadn't exactly been calm to start with. Lung only saw the object of his hate and shot up into the air, moving faster than what physics would allow.
But Psyker stayed ahead of him with ease. Lung chased and chased, but could not catch up. He fired off massively powerful bursts of flame, but she dodged as if she knew they were coming.
Then she suddenly veered up into the clouds and disappeared. Lung followed, but could not find her. He twisted his serpentine neck around and threw flame around to disperse the clouds, but to no avail. She was gone.
His fury didn't leave him, but his power did now that he had no opponent. As rationality slowly returned, Lung realized that he was out in the open ocean in the dead of night. Brockton Bay was nothing but a distant bloom of light over the horizon.
How long had he been flying?
He tried to fly up to expand his field of view, but the clouds blocked it.
Soon, he lost the ability to fly and began to fall.
"PSYKEEEEER!"
His scream of frustrated rage was heard by no one.
XXXXX
Crane the Harmonious had once publicly stated that she could deliver results with a reasonably fit and willing student in two weeks. Taylor was well beyond that standard and had absorbed a great deal of knowledge over the past five days. Lung might as well have been an uncoordinated toddler in comparison.
She chuckled to herself, still in the empty lot at the border of the city that Lung had wanted the fight to happen. After spearing him through the chest, she had walked to the side and played tricks on his mind. What he had chased off was just an illusion, and she had been poking at his mind to keep him escalating.
Lung was a simple creature, easily deceived.
Slow clapping preceded the appearance of Jack Slash. The infamous murder hobo had a grin on his face, but she knew it was forced.
"Good show." He said, finishing off his clapping. "I really expected Lung to do better after all his boasting."
"Big ego, weak mind." Taylor replied. "Just like you."
His forced grin briefly twisted itself into a snarl before he was able to bring it under control.
"Are you sure you should be taunting me?" He asked threateningly.
"It bothers you, doesn't it?" Taylor took off her helmet and smiled at him, not like she was using her real face. "Seeing people afraid makes little baby Jacob feel important, and you can't stand it when someone doesn't play along."
He snarled again and flicked the scalpel he'd been hiding. Its edge extended and made a cut across her cheek. The skin split open grotesquely, revealing her teeth all the way to the back, while the severed flap of skin hung loose off her jaw. She could have blocked the slash or held the wound closed, but didn't bother.
"But you are playing along." He taunted, flicking the scalpel several more times. Each of the flicks made a cut into her costume and the skin beneath, but she didn't react. "Look at you, having to just stand there and take it because you know what's going to happen if you defy me."
"Is that what you think?" She asked, walking closer until she was in his personal space, looking down at him because she was a bit taller. "Does it feel like I'm playing along?"
His eyes flicked towards her flayed open cheek. Taylor knew it wasn't because he found the gruesome sight itself unnerving. No, it was her lack of reaction that was rubbing him wrong. Jack Slash lived for people's reactions. The fact that she could still speak without impediment even with such a wound was further triggering the uncanny valley effect.
"You're here, aren't you?" He taunted.
But it was weak. She could feel him mentally fumbling for just the right words that would turn this bit of social combat back in his favor, but not finding them. His power couldn't read her, and he was nothing without it.
"Here, there, everywhere." Taylor grinned, deliberately making her face look even more horrifying. "You've already figured out that I have more than one body. It costs me nothing to send one here to humiliate Lung again."
"Yes, and you've been breaking the rules." He glared. "Cherish warned us about you meeting with people, and them suddenly feeling bursts of fear."
"What of it?" Taylor didn't bother to deny it. She had known that Cherish would likely pick up on that. Jack had predictably decided to wait until they were face to face to carry out his threat.
"I thought you cared about the people of this city?" He asked, taking a small detonator out of his pocket.
Taylor knew that it wasn't the only one, or else he would already be dead. Well, maybe not dead, since he also had a dead man's switch, but definitely wishing he was dead.
"Those people are the only thing keeping you alive." She told him. "The problem of a hostage situation is that it turns you into a cornered rat. If the hostage-taker kills the hostage, then he has no more protection and he forfeits all mercy. It is, at best, a stalling tactic. At worst, a desperation move. Either way, a sign of poor planning."
His face twitched at the dig to his intelligence. He was used to feeling unjustifiably clever.
"That may be true if there is only one hostage." Jack Slash countered, thumb hovering over the detonator. "But if I have many, then I can afford to kill a few to make a point."
Taylor telekinetically yanked the detonator out of his hand and inspected it. The device was nothing more than a single button, which would send out a signal to a random active bomb when pressed.
"That isn't the only detonator." Jack said irritably, clearly not happy to have it taken from him. "And just for that, I think I'll detonate two bombs."
Taylor held it up so he could clearly see. Then she pushed the button. Moments later, a wave of sonic force passed over them.
"What?!" He exclaimed in shock, before starting to laugh. "Did you think I was bluffing? Hahaha."
"No, I know you weren't bluffing." Taylor smiled. "That was one of the sonic bombs. Nasty stuff. Five people were killed, including two children."
People whose deaths she would regret, but could not really prevent. The best she could do right now was minimize the damage. Being denied total victory was infuriating.
Jack's laughter quickly stopped, and he just looked at her in confusion.
"You've picked a fight with someone you don't understand, Jacob, someone you cannot understand." She continued, slowly pulling on the Empyrean to make her eyes glow and her voice to become something that crawled into the mind. "I can't be threatened or bullied. I can't be deceived or tricked. I can't be hurt or killed. The souls of everyone I hold close are already mine. You can't take them from me."
And it was mostly the truth. Even if the city was completely destroyed, her dad and Father Douglas were the only two souls she personally cared about that weren't already tied to her.
It wasn't that she was completely uncaring about everyone else, or that she didn't care if those tied to her died, but Jack Slash could not be allowed to know that she had any weaknesses to target, even if it meant carrying out his threats herself.
Doubt entered his eyes and he began to struggle with holding her eldritch gaze. Then his leg seemed to move on its own, and he took a step back.
Taylor grinned again, this time even more inhumanly. Her mouth stretched beyond what was physically possible and her skin seemed to crawl.
"Brockton Bay is my playground, Jacob." Her voice was now as much telepathic as it was physical, and it made him grimace in pain as it drilled into his mind. "I played by the rules because they amused me. Who do you think you are to come into MY domain and demand we play YOUR games?"
Jack Slash swallowed thickly and took another step back. "Well, it seems like I really have misjudged you."
Taylor deliberately snapped her head sideways, hard enough to break her own neck, before straightening it back out, twice as long as before. Her face was still morphing, nose receding until it was nothing but thin slits and teeth turning into sharp fangs. Her eyes had long since turned crimson, and horns were pushing their way out of her forehead, causing blood to run down her face as they broke the skin.
"You have misjudged more than just I." Taylor continued playing up the role of a demon, forcing him to see just a glimpse of the truth beyond the physical world. "You have misjudged the very nature of reality."
Jack Slash started laughing. He laughed and laughed and laughed, gaining a hysterical edge.
Taylor pulled away from his mind and forced her flesh back into a proper human shape. Then she left, leaving the serial killer to laugh himself stupid. She could have tried to break his mind entirely, but he would be more useful this way. His new 'insight' would distract him and the other murder hobos by proxy.
Hopefully long enough for her to start dealing with the bombs.
XXXXX
A little earlier…
"We have a signal!"
Inside a very large garage, many people were working. Hot Rod, Chariot, Leet, Kid Win, Trainwreck, Clockblocker, Vista, and many Psykers. All of them were collaborating on several tinkertech projects made to solve the current problem.
One of those projects was a sensor made to detect whatever signal Bakuda's bombs used. The biggest problem about the human bomb situation was the fact that they didn't have a control subject to run tests on. Bonesaw's power was super surgery and Mannequin's power was self-contained systems. Between the two of them, it would be very easy to contrive a way to make the bombs practically undetectable.
When they weren't in use.
Taylor never did just one thing at a time if she didn't have to, and triggering a bomb was no different. Aside from putting Jack Slash off his game, she'd also had a scanner inside her costume. Teacher had been forced to give her as many variants of sensor Tinker powers as he could manage. Each of them was individually minor, but together they were as good as a full sensor Tinker.
Taylor didn't miss the way that she was now hooked up to yet more Passengers, and she was not letting them go.
"The bombs are all linked into some kind of sequential network. The detonator effectively sends out a random number, detonating the corresponding bomb in the chain." She reported.
It wasn't a very sophisticated system, but none of the three Slaughterhouse 9 Tinkers specialized in signals, communication devices, or anything similar.
"I can definitely build a jammer for something like that." Kid Win said eagerly.
It had taken Taylor, Sherrel, and Lisa all of a half hour to figure out that his specialty was modular systems. Vehicles naturally had some modularity to them, Taylor could watch his mind to see when his Passenger pushed harder, and Lisa could observe when his tinkering was smoothest.
The Ward was somewhat aggravated at how easily the villains had solved a problem that the Protectorate hadn't been able to. Or couldn't be bothered to, in the case of Armsmaster.
"Multiple jammers." Taylor corrected. "I want the entire electromagnetic spectrum covered, as well as spatial and temporal, in overlapping fields of coverage all over the city. And once we're done with that, we'll get started on the psychic disruptors."
"Not to question your orders, your supreme evilness, but the words 'psychic disruptor' don't fill me with the warm and fuzzies." Dennis spoke up, using humor to cover for his nervousness.
"Multiple layers of redundancy." She replied. "I won't leave any possibility of getting the tables turned back on us. If all other measures fail, the psychic disruptor will use my powers to block all communications, including bomb signals."
"How is it going to do that?" Chris asked, confused. "Your powers don't function on any known principles. I don't think we can use tinkertech to mimic them."
"I can do it!" Leet said fervently. "My power isn't fighting me for a change. It's like it was back when I first triggered, maybe even better. It really wants this, all I need is a way to interact with your psychic bullshit."
"We'll use my bodies for it, turn them into living transmitters."
"You want them to turn you into some kind of cyborg abomination?!" Missy exclaimed in horror. The other heroes also looked queasy.
"Don't worry about it." Taylor waved off. "I know it sounds gruesome, but I don't experience pain the same way you do. Amelia will help so as to keep down the gore."
"Err, Taytay." Sherrel hesitantly spoke up. "Please don't tell me you're going to make us put your mutilated, cyberized bodies on top of my vans so that you can get 'full coverage' with these psychic disruptors."
"Okay, I won't tell you."
"Alright, fine, but you are going to dismantle all of this once the Slaughterhouse 9 is dealt with, right?" Missy asked pointedly, visibly ignoring that bit of horror. "All of this tinkertech was built collaboratively for the express purpose of fighting them. It would go against the spirit of the truce to use it for your regular villainy afterwards."
"Of course." Taylor conceded easily. "None of this is really necessary for my ambitions anyway."
Playing within the established rules was perfectly fine, given how easy they were to abuse.
XXXXX
Several hours later, in the morning...
Emily was, to put it mildly, stressed the fuck out.
Ever since Dragon had reported that Psyker had infiltrated the Birdcage by replacing Canary, the full scope of the problem they had just seemed to keep getting bigger with every report Dragon made.
Psychic communication, multiple bodies, absorbing vast amounts of Teacher's 'gifts' with no side effects, being acknowledged as a fellow queen by Glaistig Uaine,…
They'd thought she was just a local problem. A big one, but still just local. And now, yet again, Psyker had thrown them a curve ball that they hadn't seen coming. Emily had been on the phone for days now, asking for more manpower, capes, and resources to handle this threat before it got any worse. But as usual, Washington was dragging its heels.
The Chief Director was clearly still thinking of how she could use Psyker and not taking her seriously as a threat. Who gave a shit if Brockton Bay had to be classified as a Hive of Scum and Villainy, as long as they got something out of it?
It's not like the girl had stated her intentions to conquer the world or anything.
Before, it had sounded ridiculous. With this new information in mind, it was plain alarming. And the worst thing was that Emily didn't know if it was a smokescreen for yet another curveball. How many more surprises could one teenage cape mere months away from her trigger possibly have?!
And now there were bombs going off in the city.
"It was definitely a tinkertech explosive device." Armsmaster reported grimly. "Some kind of sonic blast, the victims were practically liquefied and it shattered every window in a three block radius."
"Do we have any leads on who could have done this?" Emily asked. "It's not the typical MO of either the Empire or the Black Hand."
To say nothing of the fact that neither had this kind of Tinker.
"Dragon has suggested that the methodology bears a similarity to the work of the Cornell Bomber." Armsmaster offered with some hesitation. "We've had unconfirmed reports that she was seen in the company of Lung, but they've both kept their heads down for the past couple of months."
Months that the bomb Tinker might have been using to build up a supply. What the hell had Wilkins and Legend been thinking, letting that happen?
"We'll need to go on alert, and confine the Wards to Protectorate HQ for now." She said, knowing that the PRT building was still in the danger zone.
They didn't have a good read on the Cornell Bomber's personality, but the fact that she'd taken a university hostage didn't bode well. And if she was with Lung, then there was no telling what that egomaniac would want her to do so he could get revenge on Psyker.
"Director, Gallant is here to see you, he says it's urgent." The voice of her secretary came through the phone.
Emily did not like the sinking feeling in her gut. The timing was just too coincidental.
"Send him in." She said.
Gallant opened the door a minute later, glancing at Armsmaster for a moment, before hesitantly stepping inside.
"You said it was urgent?" She prompted after he sat down.
"Ah, yeah." He said awkwardly, glancing at Armsmaster again. "Director, Armsmaster, could I ask you to stay calm and not do anything rash?"
Emily was really not liking where this was going. "Why?"
"There is an S-class emergency ongoing in the city and any precipitous actions could have dire consequences." Gallant said formally, sweat beading on his forehead and eyes darting side to side nervously.
She froze up, the sinking feeling in her gut becoming an anchor. "This wouldn't have something to do with the tinkertech bomb that went off in the suburbs a little while ago, would it?"
"It does." Gallant took a deep breath. "The Slaughterhouse 9 are in town and they're targeting Psyker."
And there it was.
"Explain!" Armsmaster demanded harshly.
Gallant quickly rushed to explain the situation. Bakuda and Lung, the bombs, what had happened to Grue and his sister and the power they had, that Psyker had already dealt with Lung and hopefully bought enough time to devise a counter to the bombs.
"How do you even know all of this?" Emily asked, brow furrowed. Then it hit her. "She contacted you already, didn't she?"
"Ah, yeah…" Gallant rubbed the back of his neck. "They've also poached Kid Win and Vista for a collaborative project to deal with the bombs. You don't have to worry about them – they're operating under an S-class truce, but Psyker felt that there was no time to waste on asking for permission."
There was no way in hell that either she or the Youth Guard would have ever agreed to let any of the Wards walk into a villain lair, no matter what assurances were given. If any collaborating was to be done, it would have been done under PRT supervision.
"Where are they?" Armsmaster demanded harshly.
"I don't know." Gallant shrugged, but was visibly nervous. "Psyker only needed me to figure out a way to shroud herself from emotional sensors. I was never shown their workshop."
Because she really needed to be even more powerful.
"This is not how we do things." Armsmaster ground out.
"I know." Gallant admitted. "But I couldn't justify not helping against the Slaughterhouse 9, not if there was even a slight chance that we could save the people they implanted with bombs. Psyker did say that you're welcome to help her, but that she would be staying in charge."
That wasn't acceptable.
"And do you agree with her?" Emily asked, probing for his thoughts on the matter.
"I mean… she did seem to be pretty on top of everything." He said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "That's probably the big secret of how she's been so successful, actually – even Vicky and her cousins got pulled into it."
Oh lovely, so the adults of New Wave were going to be a problem, too.
"Master/Stranger quarantine." Emily sighed unhappily. "At least a day."
Gallant nodded, clearly having been expecting it.
XXXXX
Obviously, Vicky was not going to leave her sister to fight the Slaughterhouse 9 without her, even if she had to work with villains for it.
There were all sorts of things she had expected from such an unholy alliance. She had braced herself for the possibility of having to do things that she was morally opposed to, had psyched herself up to work with people she would probably hate.
She had not been prepared to be roped into playing Crash Team Racing, a cartoony racing game imported from Earth Aleph, on a pretty impressive LAN setup, while being served drinks and snacks by extra Psyker bodies dressed in skimpy outfits.
"Is this really okay?" She asked, not for the first time.
"Of course. Sewer Speedway is the best track in the game." Regent, or Alec, replied, deliberately misunderstanding her, also not for the first time.
"That's not what I meant and you know it." She shot back peevishly.
"It won't do you any good to obsess over the situation." Psyker, or Taylor as she insisted on that body being called, said. "Everything that can be done at the moment is already being done. Relaxing now will allow you to be at your best when the time comes to fight."
It was the same reasoning that had been used before. Vicky could admit that it was logical, but something just felt wrong about playing video games while there was a pack of notorious mass murderers in town.
"Besides, it'd be a crime to waste this setup." Eric joked, his eyes pulled towards the exposed butt cheeks of a Psyker body wearing a bunny suit.
"My brother in gaming speaks true." Alec belched grotesquely after chugging a coke. "Mommy Dearest didn't spend all that time coding a mod so that we could play this game over a LAN with more than four players just for us to be ingrates."
There were, in fact, eight of them currently playing. Vicky, Taylor, Amy, Alec, Eric, Crystal, Lisa, and Dennis.
"Hmm, maybe we should try to do something that would include the rest of the kids." Taylor pondered out loud. "I'll have to brainstorm ideas for groups in the twenty to thirty range."
Must be nice, being able to think of everything at once. Vicky had never been envious of Thinkers before, but the thought of being able to do homework without having to really devote any time out of the day for it had a certain undeniable appeal that any teenager would understand.
The ring of a cellphone interrupted any further discussion, and the game was paused and muted.
Vicky picked it up with trepidation and saw exactly what she expected. 'Mom' glowed on the screen, seeming particularly angry somehow.
"It's time for the hissy fit of the century." Lisa grinned eagerly, pulling over a bowl of chips. "Put it on speaker!"
"Do it!" Alec nodded. "Do iiiiit!"
"Misery shared is misery halved." Amy added, extremely uncharacteristically. She obviously just wanted to hear Mom lose her shit again.
Looking at all the expectant faces, Vicky sighed in defeat and put it on speaker. She'd already known that she was going to get yelled at like she'd never been yelled at before. Since it was all these assholes' fault, they might as well get some of the splash damage.
"VICTORIA DALLON!" Came the roar.
"Hey, Mom." Vicky winced.
"DON'T YOU 'HEY MOM' ME! WHY IS THE PRT TELLING ME THAT YOU ARE CONSORTING WITH VILLAINS?!"
"The Slaughterhouse 9 are in town, we're under truce!" Vicky argued, knowing that it wouldn't help.
"AND YOU DIDN'T THINK THAT WAS SOMETHING YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD US?!"
"Carol, stop shouting." Dad's stern voice – and wow, that was still weird – came through the line. "Victoria, is everyone alright?"
"Yeah, we're all here." Vicky looked at her sister and cousins, silently urging them to say something.
"Eric, no! You can't mix cocaine with vodka inside that underage hooker's asshole!" Alec suddenly cried out.
The silence coming from the other end of the phone was profound. And Eric's face went ghostly pale.
"So…" Uncle Neil drawled. "Been making friends, son?"
"Hey, Dad." Eric said meekly.
"I'm going to guess there are no hookers, drugs, or alcohol present."
His tone said that there better not be.
"No, Dad." Crystal spoke up, glaring towards Alec. "Just one immature brat that thinks he's funny."
"I figured." He took a deep breath. "Alright. Explain."
"I called them here." Taylor spoke up, using her Psyker tone. "Amelia still has fond feelings for most of you and didn't want you getting caught in the crossfire. The old generation of New Wave, especially Brandish, was not invited because your belief that you know better because you're older could have been dangerously disruptive."
"Just to be clear, neither our children nor the Wards you have there are being held against their will or threatened in any way?" Aunt Sarah asked.
"Not at all. In fact, they will be handsomely compensated for their work and time."
"Crystal, what have you been doing?"
"Mostly playing video games." Her cousin sounded as disgruntled about that fact as Vicky felt. "The Tinkers are putting something together to deal with the bombs. The rest of us are benched until that's done."
"Okay, that's… a lot better than I was expecting, honestly." Aunt Sarah huffed. "Where are you?"
"I'll tell you as long as you keep Brandish muzzled." Taylor spoke up. "Normally, it would amuse me to provoke her to attempted murder, but the sanctity of the S-class truce is still valuable."
There was a sound like a vase shattering against a wall, and Vicky had a feeling she knew who had thrown it.
"I'll keep an eye on her." Dad promised.
As their supervillain host gave instructions on where to find them, Vicky shared a look with Amy. Both of them could already imagine the tension everyone would be living with once the rest of the Pelham and Dallon households arrived. Suddenly playing video games with a bunch of supervillains didn't seem so bad.
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