Conduits vs Supes : Civil War

Hello, again ! Twice in one week ? You'll get sick of me ! Just noticed that I forgot to post this last week. And I forgot not just here but on Patréon, too. Thankfully, my head's attached to my body… Now, as you can probably tell from the title, this chapter might annoy you a bit. Yes, there'll be cultivation in this fic, but only mostly as a way to explain the growth in the characters. In the InFamous game, Cole and Delsin also grew stronger by collecting shards (or something… it's been a while since I last played). I figured they're using the Ray Field energy concentrated in the shard to increase their reserves, so here the principle is similar but they use the RFE in the atmosphere. Enjoy !

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Later that night, Frederic parted from her sister and headed for one of the numerous safe-houses, he set up around the country. As a runaway from Vought, Frederic learned early on out to fend for himself. He's been doing it for so long now that it's become second nature to him to keep things close to his vest.

One would ask how a teenager even managed to set up one safe-house, let alone the many he possessed. The short answer and pretty much the only answer when it came to him : his intuitive power. The way it worked was, as he explained during the meeting, mostly to ensure his survival. But over the years, he figured that it also did one other thing : improved his situation. Whether that was by putting him with the right people at the right time, the right places, or finding the right things for him.

The first person to ever take him in, an old lady with dementia by the name of Abigail Saint-Claire, set up a bank account for him. She took care of him as she believed him to be her son, Frederic Saint-Claire. She cooked for him, set him up for school, and cared for him for years. In exchange, in the limited ways of child, he too, cared as much as he could for her. He also played the lottery and improved both their situations. That's how his fortune started…

Now, he was sitting in an office of a small apartment building, scribbling away on paper while occasionally glancing at old, worn out and partially eaten by time, fire or some other reason, piece of papers. Not just paper either : parchments, bamboo slips, papyruses… All were covered in ancient languages very few could decipher.

A few weeks ago, Frederic couldn't make heads or tails about them. So, it always bugged that he felt such a strong urge to recover and secure these mysterious writings. Now that his intuition had been boosted by the Ray Field Energy however, he could intuit what they were about… Which was what he was doing now : translating them, figuring out the missing parts of the writings.

At the moment, his mind was processing the information he was writing. Only his subconscious was, so he had no real idea what he was doing. Once his concentration faded and his work was done however, he poured through what he wrote… And what he read left him marveling.

Given the fact that Frederic has lived most of his life governed by a feeling of fear and impending doom, he spent the majority of his time to better himself. So, he had little time for entertainment and hobbies. When he watched the TV, only the news interested him. He never played any video games, or any games for that matter. The only distraction he allowed himself was reading fictions. Among the ones he liked where cultivation stories because he could relate to the characters : people under constant threats from individuals or groups stronger than them, with seemingly infinite resources to throw at them, people who constantly strove to grow and improve themselves. While he didn't very much like the wanton mass murders most of the protagonists indulged in, he could understand the logic behind them. Sometimes…

So, when he laid eyes on what were obviously ancient writings that seemed to come from one of those novels… He was puzzled. Doubtful, even. He always assumed these stories were no more than that : stories. Made popular by the times they were in when people sought control over their lives and destinies and took refuge in those fictions because it made them feel like they had it. Naturally this made the fact of him laying his eyes on such cultivation arts a surprise, as was the fact that his intuition was telling they were genuine.

Pondering on it, he came to the realization that, in one form or another, Conduits had always existed. Which was expected really, since the conduit gene didn't just appear out of nowhere. Still it was surprising that humans have been able to harness the power present in their genes for that long… Some of these texts were thousands of years old !

Now, despite what his intuition was telling him, he had to see if it worked. No… That was wrong. He knew it worked. He was simply excited to try it out. So, he looked through the texts he translated. Soon, he became engrossed with reading them. Most of the content was pretty esoteric, hermetic even. Frederic could easily intuit the general meaning behind the flowery and mostly useless rhetoric, but he quickly grew annoyed reading it.

« It's like they made it purposely difficult for people to learn it ! » He commented, annoyed.

Finally, he decided to return to writing, this time simplifying what he'd already translated. First was how they decomposed the person into four different parts : mind, body, willpower and finally, Ki, or rather the internal energy used to power the conduit abilities. Different cultures had different names for it : magic, chakra, chi… Anyways, the mind represented the ability to think and send command to the body. The body was the materials composing the body such as muscle, tendons, ligaments and bones. The willpower, obviously, the drive to accomplish something. As for the 'Ki', the breath of the body it was the life force.

According to what he read, using special breathing techniques allowed someone to gather this energy and store it inside the body. Different techniques had varying efficacy which depended on the technique itself, but also the innate talent of the practitioner as well as how well it suited the person using it.

For instance, Frederic would need a technique suited either for the wood element and/or one for the mind. That is if he wanted to advance quickly in the technique as well as increase his energy reserves. Now, given the fact that he had a whole library worth of these texts, he'd have to sparse through them, translate them and find the ones that suited him… Or, as was usual for him, he could simply trust his intuition.

* * * * *

The Seven Tower, New York City.

Homelander watched the news talking about Empire City, his face a careful blank mask. Inside he was seething. He detested this entire situation ! Not only were there new Supes being created not by Vought, and therefore, not under his control, he couldn't even get to Empire City and try to get control of the situation.

He knew, because he'd tried ! As he flew toward the city, still some miles away from it, he'd started feeling… dizzy. At first, he didn't what it was since he'd never felt such weakness in his life. But then, the nausea and vertigo hit and he tumbled toward the ground, managing a clumsy landing in a thankfully deserted plain.

The more he approached, the worse the feeling got. It got so bad that it even started affecting his powers. So, afraid and confused, he'd decided to backtrack to Vought Tower.

Of course, he'd heard the reports about the Emperor's Hand, the supe in charge of Empire City's Vought branch of heroes. He also knew about the others… And he'd discarded the information as them being weak to be influenced by whatever this weapon had been. The fact that he'd been wrong was infuriating ! And scary.

Now, he had no choice but to watch the news like a… regular person. Powerless to do anything. He hated that feeling. What was worse though was that the people were starting to ask why the heroes weren't doing anything to resolve the situation in Empire City… Why he didn't do anything.

The fact that they dared to question him, a god among men, was another reason for his ire.

The rest of the Seven presents in the room kept their silence. They knew Homelander : he might seem affable on TV, but behind closed doors, the man was a tyrant ! They could no longer count the number of people he'd killed because they pissed him off or simply spoke at the wrong time, or out of turn.

And given that he was the most powerful Supe on the planet, they weren't about to try and challenge his rule. Not overtly anyway… Unfortunately for them, he had also asked them all to come here to discuss the situation. Several of them thought it was to discuss how to spin the reason why they weren't intervening, while others, like Black Noir, simply obeyed.

Lamplighter on the other hand was lost in thought. For years now, he was looking for a way to 'retire' from his 'hero' career. He hated what they were doing, he despised most of his co-workers save Maeve and A-Train. He was also terrified of Homelander, just like the others. Hearing about what was happening in Empire City, he seriously considered moving there. After reading the reports on the radiations on Supes however, he revised his decision. Still, some part of him still wanted to go there and damn the consequences !

Each of them was watching their leader in silence, waiting for him to speak. Finally, he opened his mouth while turning around, his arms crossed in his back.

« So… I want to hear your opinions, guys and gal ! How should we explain why we're not intervening ? »