《Supervillainy and Other Poor Career Choices》 Chapter One ¡°You can''t be serious?¡± Erich said, eying the ignition switch in his hand dubiously. His ¡®customer¡¯ for the morning was a failed super villain. Or would-be supervillain, if the half-built exo-suit now cluttering up Erich¡¯s shop was any indicator. Could he still be considered a villain if he had never got around to committing any crimes? At least, not any serious ones, he thought as he eyed the track marks running up and down the addict¡¯s arms. ¡°It''s proof! Proof I''m good for it. I''m not about to leave my baby behind am I?¡± Erich supposed that even if the cobbled together power armor hadn¡¯t given away his powerset, the way the man¡¯s eyes flitted spasmodically between various bits of tech around the garage would have. Artificers fresh off the Event tended to have tics like that. Likely a byproduct of all that crazy new technology in their head searching for an outlet. ¡°Sir,¡± Erich said, running a tired hand through his hair. ¡°For the last time, this isn¡¯t a pawnshop, it¡¯s a repair shop. I fix things. I build things. I sell things. Sometimes I even design things. What I don¡¯t do is take on suits of half-finished power armor as collateral for loans.¡± Especially not suits as poorly designed as the specimen in front of him. ¡°Can¡¯t you see the opportunity here?¡± The would-be villain whined, ¡°As soon as I get the money for more parts, I¡¯ll need somewhere to finish off my suit. This could be that place. Your shop could be the birthplace of the ¡®Crusher¡¯¡± Ah, now he knew why the addict had targeted his store rather than a pawnshop. He probably couldn¡¯t afford to store the unfinished suit wherever he¡¯d previously been keeping it. ¡°This store could be the base of operations for my new faction!¡± Headache already forming, Erich was about to take deep breath before thinking better of it. The guy opposite him looked like he hadn¡¯t seen a shower in days, if not weeks. ¡°I fail to see how having my shop tied to the origins of a meta-human criminal would improve my business. Now, I¡¯m sorry, but unless you have some proper business for me, I am afraid I must ask you and your suit to leave. You¡¯re getting in the way of real customers.¡± Even as he said it, he knew it was a lie. His shop wasn¡¯t empty because it had a drug addled supervillain in it. It was empty because it was always empty. The drug dealer in the alley next to his store saw more business than the store itself. To make matters worse, it was nearly the end of the month and Hard-Light''s goons would be expecting their cut. He needed to make some proper cash, or failing that, find something¡­ to tide the man over¡­ ¡°Hey,¡± He said, cutting off whatever the addict had been saying, ¡°I think I will take you up on that deal.¡± ¡°Really?¡± The man looked overjoyed, completely missing the way that Erich¡¯s eyes were roaming over the machine. Or rather, the two B-Class power cells sitting in the suit¡¯s chest compartment. Even if he wouldn¡¯t get anything for the suit, the raw components that made it up would be worth something. ¡°Sure.¡± Erich nodded, a smile stealing over his face, ¡°how could I pass up the opportunity to be a part of the birth of the Crasher.¡± ¡°The Crusher.¡± ¡°The Crusher.¡± Erich corrected seamlessly. ¡°I just want to make one slight alteration to the deal.¡± For the first time in their conversation, something akin to wariness peeped through the drug induced haze the man was under. ¡°What?¡± ¡°A change in date.¡± The young store keeper suggested, ¡°Rather than have the debt default on the second week of the coming month, I would prefer to have it occur - which we both know it won¡¯t -two days before the end of this month.¡± That wouldn¡¯t exactly give him any time to strip and sell the hunk of junk for parts, but it would give him something to show Hard-Light¡¯s goons that he was good for the money. Most of it at least. And who knew, the crazy junky might even manage to drum up the cash in time. He wasn¡¯t counting on it, but he supposed stranger things had happened. ¡°That¡¯s not a lot of time,¡± The junky murmured, unconsciously scratching at his scabbed elbow with a filthy fingernail as he eyed the exo-suit to his right. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯s a sure bet though, right? You have a tip.¡± Erich pointed out, in a sudden role reversal. Fortunately for him, it seemed that whatever substance the meta-human was on, it wasn¡¯t conducive toward long term planning or risk assessment, because the reminder of his ¡®sure fire tip¡¯ had the man grinning like a loon. ¡°Yeah.¡± He grinned. ¡°I do have a tip, don¡¯t I?¡± ¡°That you do.¡± Erich nodded insincerely as he started to count out cash from the register.
Naturally, the debt defaulted. The junkie¡¯s ¡®hot tip¡¯ turned out be so much hot air. The would-be supervillain showed up at his store not even a day later. The guy whined, cajoled and begged, but Erich was unyielding. The ¡®contract¡¯ had been clear. Ultimately the junky left in defeat, leaving Erich with half a ton of Artificer designed power armor. Not that he cared about its current configuration. In fact, he considered it something of an eye-sore. No, it was the materials that made up the suit that held his interest. He could flip those power-cells for a few grand each, maybe more if he was smart about it. It would take a little time, but he would have his money in the end. So, he figured he could be forgiven for feeling cautiously optimistic when Hard-Light¡¯s goons stepped into his store. That feeling promptly vanished when he saw who was leading them. In another organization it might have been considered beneath the boss¡¯s daughter to go around shaking down small business for protection money, but given the relatively small size of Hard-Light¡¯s gang, it was pretty much an inevitability that even his daughter sometimes had to partake of the ¡®menial¡¯ tasks. ¡°Sarah, you look as beautiful as ever.¡± ¡°Why thank you, Erich¡± The woman in question grinned in a manner that exposed far too many teeth. ¡°You always know how to brighten a girl¡¯s day. ¡°Why, I¡¯m simply stating the obvious my dear.¡± He wasn¡¯t even lying. The blonde woman was just as gorgeous as all meta-human¡¯s tended to be. Of course, in this case she was beautiful in the same way that particularly venomous plants could be. Eye catching, colorful, but virulently deadly to anyone that got too close. An example of which could be seen in the way that electricity started to visibly arc along her fingertips as she sighed. ¡°Of course, the reason you¡¯re always so free with a compliment is because you never have Daddy¡¯s cut ready.¡± Erich struggled not to wince as the acrid stink of ozone filtered through the air. ¡°Which is a shame.¡± She said, ¡°I actually enjoy visiting you, Erich. It¡¯s nice to deal with a man with a little class. Doubly so when he¡¯s a cutie like you.¡± She winked. ¡°I have three thousand.¡± Erich grinned weakly, sweat beading on his brow as the crackle of the woman¡¯s power grew in intensity. ¡°Only three thousand.¡± She pouted, ¡°That¡¯s not nearly good enough, Erich. The rules say five thousand, and I can¡¯t give you a pass this month. Sorry lover, but Daddy¡¯s starting to wonder if I¡¯m going soft.¡± She didn¡¯t even blink as behind her, one of her goon¡¯s shoved over a display, sending electrical components clattering to the floor as it came down with a crash. ¡°I have something else though!¡± Erich shouted, before the carnage could begin in earnest. For just a moment he feared the goons would trash the place anyway, but Sarah held up a hand for them to stop just as one was about to tip over another display.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Oh?¡± The woman tilted her head. ¡°It¡¯s in the back.¡± He said hurriedly, ¡°I¡¯ll show you.¡± ¡°Stay here boys¡± The woman called, ¡°I¡¯m going to see what dearest Erich has to show me. And it better be good.¡± She added for Erich¡¯s benefit. ¡°It is.¡± He nodded as he strode toward the garage, keeping the fear from his voice through sheer willpower. ¡°You won¡¯t be disappointed.¡± The pair stepped into the garage, and Erich reached over to flip the light switch. He nearly stumbled though as the mob boss¡¯s daughter hugged him from behind. ¡°Alright Erich, you¡¯ve got me all alone.¡± She whispered into his ear. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you want to come to some alternative form of arrangement?¡± ¡°No!? I¡­¡± He started to say, flushing as the woman¡¯s hands roamed over places he most assuredly did not consent to. In the end, he was reduced to helplessly pointing in the direction of what he brought her in here to show her. ¡°Oh?¡± She murmured, releasing him as she saw the half-baked suit. ¡°I reckon the old man would give you about two hundred thousand for that. Finished, of course. He probably wouldn¡¯t give you a dime for it as it is now.¡± Erich froze partway through rezipping his fly. He almost couldn¡¯t believe his ears. She¡­ she wanted it? Whole? But it was awful? The power couplings were spaced too far apart. The synth-muscle was too loose. Hell, even the structure itself was configured sub-optimally. He hadn¡¯t even considered selling the thing because¡­ well¡­ it was illegal, he supposed - but more importantly, who would want it!? ¡°I need more parts.¡± He said, mouth moving before his brain could catch up. ¡°Figured as much. Most Artificers get about halfway through a set of power-armor before realizing just how expensive they are to make.¡± Sarah said, pulling out her omni-phone to flash a few pictures of the suit. ¡°Whatever you need will come out of the final price. And while Daddy won¡¯t gouge you for the parts, he definitely won¡¯t be giving you any discounts either.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fine.¡± He said, still a little stunned by the sudden change in his fortune. Had it really been that easy? She turned back to him, ¡°So, how long will it take you to finish it?¡± For something as crude as this? ¡°A few weeks. Maybe less if you can get the parts to me quickly.¡± She nodded. ¡°What kind of performance are you expecting when it¡¯s finished?¡± ¡°Class-Four Bruiser.¡± He murmured, ¡°As well as a Class-Two Shooter if I fit it out with some decent guns. Might even get it as high as Three if I can get some force projectors instead.¡± Puny numbers as far as he was concerned, but going by the way Sarah¡¯s eyes widened, she was impressed, even if she was quick to downplay it. Were the standards of the local gangs truly so low? More importantly, had he really been that blind? He¡¯d been scraping by fixing cars, toasters and air conditioners for the last year, when he could have been making real money working on cheap knock-offs of Meta-Tech weapons and armor. ¡°That shouldn¡¯t be a problem.¡± Sarah said. ¡°Not if you can deliver on your promises.¡± He resisted the urge to huff. He could deliver on a promise like that in his sleep. ¡°But before we get to that though, I want you to look at something else for me.¡± Even with the thought of a possible payday in his near future, he still felt wariness well up in him as the woman reached behind her back. He sincerely hoped she wasn¡¯t about to continue what she had started when they walked in here. Not that he didn¡¯t find her attractive. She was. Very much so. He just made it a habit not to get involved with women who could fry him alive with a flick of their wrist. A rule that went double for women who were also psychotic criminals with a long history of violence. Which was why he felt relief wash over him ¨C along with some muted disappointment he didn¡¯t read too far into ¨C as the woman set down a large laser pistol on his worktable. ¡°Think you can do anything with this? I¡¯m getting tired of having to get the barrels replaced after they melt.¡± He didn¡¯t bother to hide his scowl as he looked the device over. It was classic Artificer work. Brilliant, bold, and criminally inefficient. The focusing lens was too small, the power-source too big, and the wiring was a complete mess. ¡°Where¡¯d you get it from?¡± He asked, mentally resisting the urge to fling the insult to engineering into the nearest trash can. ¡°Daddy made it.¡± Well it was a good thing he hadn¡¯t immediately acted on his desire then. ¡°I can see a few places I might be able to make some improvements. At the very least you won¡¯t have to worry about the barrel melting anymore.¡± ¡°Great.¡± She beamed, ¡°Well, you can consider that your test run.¡± ¡°Test run?¡± He said, looking up from the gun. ¡°You didn¡¯t think we were just going to start handing you those parts willy-nilly did you?¡± She asked as if he were a particularly slow student. Yes. That was exactly what he thought would happen. Which must have shown on his face, because Sarah became exaggeratedly smug. ¡°Oh honey, that¡¯s adorably na?ve.¡± She grinned, ¡°Unfortunately for you, Daddy didn¡¯t get to where he is today by handing out loans to every Artificer with a big idea that came across his path.¡± ¡°Right.¡± He ground out, fighting down indignation. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be sending someone I trust tomorrow to pick up your first project. If she likes what she sees, then we can start talking about getting that suit of yours up and running.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be looking forward to it.¡± And he was. He was going to show this low-level rent-a-goon just who she was dealing with.
Erich woke with a start. Disorientated, he looked around for a few seconds before realizing where he was. ¡°Fell asleep at my desk, huh?¡± He murmured, a small smile stealing over his features, ¡°It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve done that.¡± ¡°Well, I wouldn¡¯t get back into the habit. Does terrible things to your posture.¡± A voice to his left called. Startled, he nearly tripped as he jumped up from his seat. A woman was standing in his workshop. More to the point, she was holding the laser pistol he had spent almost all of last night working on. ¡°Who the hell are you? How did you get in?¡± He demanded, grabbing the first thing that came to hand. The black woman raised an eyebrow at the screwdriver being waved threateningly in her direction, her eyes moving between it and the primed pistol in her hand. ¡°Really?¡± She asked. Erich did not relent. ¡°Who and how?¡± ¡°You know I have a gun, right?¡± ¡°An unfinished gun.¡± Erich responded, ¡°I was still resetting the focusing lens when I fell asleep. If you try and fire it now you¡¯ll be lucky if all you lose is a hand.¡± The woman looked at the gun in her grip, before shrugging and carelessly aiming at the wall. ¡°I told you the-¡± Erich jumped as she pulled the trigger and a strobing beam of red light lanced through the air. ¡°Impressive increase in power.¡± The woman said, admiring the bubbling superheated stone now oozing out of the newly formed hole in Erich¡¯s wall. ¡°Intuitive new design too. It only took me a few minutes to finish installing the lens.¡± Erich had already dropped the screwdriver and was in the process of getting ready to run when a belated thought hit him. ¡°Sarah sent you didn¡¯t she?¡± He sighed as he slumped back into his seat, trying to ignore the acrid stink coming from the newly formed hole in his wall. ¡°Hard-Light sent me.¡± The woman corrected, as she put the gun down. ¡°Important distinction. And, if you¡¯re curious, I got in because you left the front door unlocked.¡± Of course he did. Of all the stupid oversights he could have made. If he was brutally honest, he was lucky it had been Hard-Light¡¯s underling that had strode into his store, and not some other lowlife looking to make a quick buck. Or worse. ¡°Yep,¡± the woman said, as if reading his mind ¨C which wasn¡¯t impossible given who she worked for. ¡°If you¡¯re going to start working for Hard-Light, you need to start being smarter about your security.¡± ¡°You like the gun then?¡± He asked, hoping to turn the conversation away from his embarrassing mistake. ¡°Miss?¡± ¡°Call me, Gravity.¡± The woman said in lieu of a real name. ¡°Gravity then.¡± Erich said, wondering whether that was a Cape name or just a nickname. Given just how far Cape culture had infected mainstream consciousness it really could be either. ¡°And yes, I like the gun.¡± The woman continued, ¡°I¡¯m just curious as to how much your little alterations have driven up the cost in components.¡± Erich shook his head. ¡°Everything I put into that gun you could find at the local hardware store for about twenty bucks.¡± Which hadn¡¯t been an intentional design decision on his part, but rather an inevitable result of his own severely lacking funds. Gravity¡¯s eyebrows rose. ¡°Impressive. Hard-Light will be happy.¡± ¡°Happy enough to pay me to finish up that.¡± Erich gestured at the exo-suit. ¡°He is. The boss liked the pics Sarah sent him. He¡¯s already getting the parts you listed together. They should be here by tomorrow at the latest.¡± Erich was stunned. ¡°But you only just looked at the pistol?¡± The woman shrugged, ¡°I don¡¯t think you realize how much the boss wants to get his hands on that suit. This little test was more of a formality than anything else.¡± Great. So he¡¯d basically spent all night working on a laser for no real benefit. ¡°But what if I hadn¡¯t been able to deliver?¡± He couldn¡¯t help but ask. ¡°Then I¡¯ve got another far more conventional pistol in my bag.¡± He deliberately tried to ignore the sudden dryness of his throat. ¡°Right, so about payment?¡± The woman gestured to a briefcase sitting by her legs. ¡°Fifty thousand dollars in cash. You get what remains of the next fifty after expenses, when you finish the suit.¡± The sight of the briefcase full of money did more than make him forget about the danger, it left him feeling positively giddy. ¡°Right, well Ms. Gravity, I¡¯ll be waiting on that shipment of parts with bated breath.¡± He grinned, ¡°I¡¯ll also need to know how often you¡¯ll be needing updates on the suit¡¯s progress, and what number I should call to get in contact.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t worry too much about that. You won¡¯t need to call anyone because I¡¯ll be sticking around until you¡¯re finished.¡± Erich froze in his tracks, ¡°but that could take weeks?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Gravity nodded. ¡°During which time I will be watching over Hard-Light¡¯s investment. Day and night. But I wouldn¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯ll grab the couch and you¡¯ll barely even notice I¡¯m here." Chapter Two ¡°Put a damn shirt on woman!¡± Erich shouted after glancing up from the display in front of him. Gravity, the woman in question, huffed but made no move to cover her nudity as she broke the tab on a cold beer. ¡°A lot of men would pay good money to see what you¡¯re seeing right now.¡± Erich¡¯s scowl was audible even through the suit¡¯s speakers, ¡°A lot of men aren¡¯t in the process of learning how to operate half a ton of power-armor while you flash them.¡± Any other time he might have been fascinated. He would freely admit that Gravity was an incredibly well put together young woman. Her chocolate colored skin tone was only accentuated by the low light of the garage. Under the artificial light source she all but glistened; a thin sheen of sweat coating her athletic form. In all likelihood, she had just finished her usual morning workout. Sighing, Erich gave up on trying to get the criminal to clothe herself properly and returned his attention to the task at hand. Figuring out how to walk in a suit of power-armor was proving to be surprisingly difficult. Not only was he suddenly a good foot taller, but the suit had a momentary delay between sensing his input and the synth-muscles acting on it. That meant he had to plan every movement he was going to make a few microseconds in advance. Which was harder than it sounded. "I see you lowered the output on the synth-muscle again." Gravity said as she scooped up a nearby omni-pad. ¡°It was either that, or risk having my arms torn off every time I instinctively try to balance myself.¡± Erich explained as he carefully brought one leg up, slowly shifting his weight in time with the whirring of the suit¡¯s pneumatics. ¡°I figure I can start gradually increasing the strength again once this thing is closer to being calibrated.¡± ¡°I suppose that¡¯s one way of doing it.¡± The woman murmured as her fingers flew over the display. ¡°The right knee still looks a little stiff when you move. Want me to increase input sensitivity there again?¡± Erich flexed the resistant joint himself a few times before nodding. Gravity tapped the screen a few times, ¡°Alright, try it now.¡± This time when he moved it, it felt far more natural than it had a few moments prior. It still felt like he was moving through jello, but that was a hell of a lot better than moving like a jerky marionet. ¡°Better?¡± He nodded. ¡°Much.¡± He had to admit, occasional bouts of exhibitionism aside, Gravity was proving to be a competent assistant. In some ways she was even better than some professional assistants he had worked with in the past. The more he worked with her, the more he came to realize that her work with the laser pistol the other week hadn¡¯t been a fluke. She wasn¡¯t brilliant by any stretch, but she was quietly competent. Listening to her observations - while determinedly keeping his eyes elsewhere - he methodically ran the suit through a series of simple motions, and the end of it the whole thing was moving much more smoothly. Of course, there was still a world of difference between ¡®more smoothly¡¯ and ¡®smooth¡¯. "Alright, I reckon that¡¯s all were going to get with you standing in place like that." The woman said as she took a sip of her beer. ¡°You¡¯re going to have to start moving around if we want to get the walk cycle down.¡± ¡°I know.¡± Erich groused, ignoring the undisguised anticipation in the woman¡¯s voice. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward. Almost immediately he overcompensated the swing of his right arm, overbalancing himself as the errant limb shot out wildly. Synth-muscle whirred loudly around the suit as the whole system tried to compensate for the change in balance. Erich didn¡¯t try to fight it. Instead he watched on with depressed resignation as the suit slowly began to tilt. The fall wasn¡¯t physically painful. The suit had ample padding to protect the pilot against far worse than tripping. That was not to say that Erich was unharmed. The damage to his ego was catastrophic. It was only made worse by Gravity¡¯s great guffaws of laughter echoing around the shop. ¡°First walk cycle trial was a failure.¡± He ground out from his position on the floor. ¡°Please don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re going to be reduced to hysterics every time this happens?¡± If she was, then they were going to be here a while. Erich would count himself lucky if they managed to get the walk cycle ironed out within the first few hundred attempts. Gravity shrugged, wiping a stray tear from her eye, ¡°Not every time. The first few dozen though? Definitely.¡± ¡°Great.¡± Erich groaned. There had been a reason he used to leave this sort of thing to one of his assistants. Hell, he would have had Gravity do it if he thought he could convince her to get in the suit. Unfortunately for him, the woman was far too canny for that. Groaning, he tried to get a legs under him; wincing as the sparks flew out from where the limbs dragged along the ground. ¡°Well, it¡¯s a good thing I¡¯m planning on putting the paint on last.¡± He muttered. Entering into something that might optimistically been called a crouch, a grim smile appeared on his face. That momentary sensation of success proved to be his undoing. Overconfident, he made the fatal mistake of trying to straighten his legs and back at the same time, resulting in the powerful leg muscles outpacing the hip ones. Like an ungainly toddler trying to stand for the first time he overbalanced once more, only this time he had the distinct sensation of vertigo that came with falling from a standing position straight onto one¡¯s back. Like a trust fall, but with no trustee in attendance. ¡°Wait. Wait.¡± Laughed Gravity. ¡°I need to get my phone before you try the next one. I have to record this.¡± For one brief moment, Erich wished he had installed the force blasters onto the suit first. He could almost imagine the targeting reticules being superimposed over his assistant''s back. ¡°One hundred thousand dollars. One hundred thousand dollars.¡± He repeated over and over.
Erich was really beginning to question whether a mere hundred thousand dollars was worth it. ¡°I don¡¯t do parties.¡± He repeated for what felt like the tenth time that night. In the driver¡¯s seat of her car, Gravity sighed, already beyond sick of hearing it. ¡°You didn¡¯t do parties. Then Hard-Light asked you to attend one. Now you do parties.¡± Yes, well that was one of the reasons why he very specifically didn¡¯t want to attend this party. ¡­Hard-Light. The crime boss for the local area, and a Meta so powerful that both other criminal factions in the city refused to move against his tiny gang for fear of his response. Not because they couldn¡¯t take him, but rather because of the sheer amount of damage he would do to their own organization¡¯s before he was brought down. Hell, even the cops and the Heroes Guild stepped carefully in this part of town. And that was the man Erich now had to go and meet. Call him na?ve, but for a short time he had genuinely believed he could finish the suit and get paid without ever having to meet the man in person. That na?ve hope had held true for just over a week. Right up until Gravity mentioned offhandedly at the breakfast table that there was a party being thrown at the man¡¯s estate, and the pair of them were expected to be there. He had complained. Vehemently. But Gravity had refused to budge, and now they were sitting in a queue of cars, slowly trundling their way up the path to the supervillain¡¯s mansion. And the dozens of armed goons who occupied the estate were not the subtle in the way they eyed the guests on their approach. Most had their weapons concealed, but more than a few had more exotic armaments on clear display. ¡°Is that a plasma rifle?¡± Erich asked dubiously, as their car inched ever closer to the entrance. ¡°Probably.¡± Gravity shrugged, none of her usual teasing banter to be heard. Something in her voice caught his attention, and he looked over to see that the usually confident woman¡¯s vibrant brown skin had taken on a distinctly pale pallor.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. She was nervous. Erich swallowed as he sank into his seat. His escort being nervous did not bode well. It did not bode well at all. Fortunately for his nerves, he get too long to stew on that discovery. In another minute they were at the front doors of the mansion, and a thuggish looking young man walked over to their car. ¡°Valet.¡± He grunted to Gravity as they stepped out, deftly catching her key¡¯s as she tossed them to him. ¡°Enjoy your evening.¡± I doubt it, Erich thought as he watched the car - and his only means of escape - pull away. "Ah, Olivia my girl. I see you¡¯ve arrived, and you brought our latest employee with you.¡± There was no mistaking who the person who strode up to them was. Hard-Light was exactly as Erich had envisioned him. A brutal looking man who even at his own party was clad in his iconic skull-themed costume. Of course, Erich was not so intimidated by the man¡¯s presence that he missed out on Gravity¡¯s real name. Though some of the fun was taking out of the discovery by the way the woman in question looked just as downcast as he felt as she turned to regard the man who could kill them both with a glance. ¡°Hello Dad.¡± She sighed. ¡°I brought him just like you asked.¡± Now that was a bombshell Erich figured he could be forgiven for not seeing coming. Of course, he wasn¡¯t so uncouth as to gape, and he liked to think he kept any visible displays of surprise muted to just a slight widening of the eyes. Although that might have just been optimistic thinking on his part. ¡°Good evening sir, I just wanted to thank you for inviting me to this event.¡± He said recovering quickly and wondering if he should go in for a handshake, before deciding against it. Somehow it just seemed too forward. Like an ant trying to shake hands with an elephant. ¡°No problem at all, kid. I couldn¡¯t very well have you building that dynamo of a suit for me without meeting you in person at some point." The man grinned as he thrust his arm toward the doorway behind him. ¡°But we can save all that boring talk for later. It¡¯s an important occasion, and my guys and gals need to blow off some steam. I¡¯m sure you feel the same after being cooped up in that shop of yours for the last two weeks.¡± Definitely, Erich thought. Just not here. Now. Or anywhere near you. The heavy stench of sweat and sex billowing out from the mansion¡¯s entrance, like sulfur wafting from the gates of hell, only served to reinforce his plan to leave as soon as humanly possible. He had zero desire to spend an evening surrounded by mindless fornication, drinking, and drug use. Not because those things weren¡¯t fun. They definitely were. But because he was almost entirely sure he would do or say something that would get him in trouble. Still, he wasn¡¯t dumb enough to say any of that aloud. ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to it, sir.¡± Assuming that to be the end of their interaction, Erich was about to step forward toward the party, when Hard-Light¡¯s arm slammed into his chest with enough force to draw a surprised grunt from the young man. ¡°Just before I let you go, I want you to know something, kid.¡± The villain said, ¡°It¡¯s been a rough year for me and my crew. First, that bitch Grey Hood took out my boy Death-Shriek, and now the Brotherhood¡¯s causing trouble on my turf. That little toy of yours is going fix all that by giving us a new heavy hitter. So, I expect you and my daughter to be out there all night telling everyone about what the pair of you have been working on.¡± This time when Erich nodded, he was far more genuine about it. Hard-Light stared for a few more heart stopping moments before stepping back as if nothing had happened, ¡°Enjoy the party, kid. Don¡¯t forget what I said.¡± And with that parting shot, the man was gone. Slowly, Erich released a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d been holding, and behind him he heard Gravity do the same. ¡°Yeah, and fuck you too Dad.¡± She muttered under her breath. ¡°I¡¯m doing great by the way. Having a real ball. Nice chatting with you.¡± Erich wisely kept his own frustrations silent. It was unlikely the man would hear them at that distance, but he figured it was better to be safe than sorry. ¡°So, you never mentioned that Hard-Light was your dad.¡± He tried not to sound accusatory as he said it, but he was pretty sure he failed miserably. He was a shit liar; though not for lack of trying. ¡°It never came up.¡± Gravity shrugged, as she stepped into the mansion. The place was about what Erich had expected. Once upon a time the ballroom they occupied might have had some level of class to it, but Hard-Light¡¯s occupation of the estate had long since done away with that. The party goers and d¨¦cor scattered around the place would have looked more at home in a strip club than a multi-million dollar mansion. While there wasn¡¯t quite an orgy taking place on the main dance floor, there were definitely a number of couples and threesomes scattered around the room. ¡°That¡¯s not an answer.¡± Erich said, averting his gaze from a young woman and her paramour. Paramours, He corrected as another man joined the festivities. ¡°What can I say, Erich?¡± She said, striding off to whatever new destination she had in mind. ¡°Maybe I enjoyed being able to talk with someone who wasn¡¯t scared shitless of my dad?¡± Erich watched her go and could only think of her parting words as¡­ kind of sad. She enjoyed spending time with him? The thought boggled the mind. He had it on very good authority that he was an ass. And not the endearing kind either. The kind that grew on you over time. No, he was just a regular one. If he wasn¡¯t, he wouldn¡¯t have been quite so terrified of partaking of the bounty of diversions available. Just got to find a quiet spot and lay low for a while, He thought. ¡®Olivia¡¯ can tell people about the suit, and I can survive the rest of the evening trouble free- ¡°Erich!¡± Someone called as they barreled into him, nearly sending them both sprawling to the floor. ¡°Sarah!?¡± He asked, very conscious of the fact he had just nearly cold clocked the boss¡¯s other daughter in a perceived act of self-defense. ¡°Yep.¡± The blonde said impishly, her slim figure pressed into his. ¡°I¡¯m so glad you made it. It¡¯s so nice to be able to see you outside of that stuffy little shop of yours.¡± ¡°Yeah, Hard-Light invited me.¡± He said, searching for something, anything, that might allow him to escape. ¡°Hmmm,¡± The blonde woman nodded happily as she started dragging him toward the bar, ¡°Daddy¡¯s commanding like that.¡± Erich nodded vaguely at the woman¡¯s words as the bartender came over to take their orders. As he ordered, he could feel his mind whirring away inside his head. He was a cynical guy, and because of that he couldn¡¯t help but feel that Sarah¡¯s overt attraction to him was unnatural. Sure, he was an attractive enough guy, he supposed, but he was no great catch. Especially not for a supervillain¡¯s daughter. So he did some research. Which was a fancy way of saying he asked the drug dealer who hung out in the alley beside his store about her. Terry was connected like that. What the guy had told him ¨C after being bribed with a twenty ¨C was about what he had expected. Sarah destroyed men. She had a reputation for it. The bubbly blonde had a list of former conquests as long as Erich¡¯s arm. She chose men, seemingly at random, and charmed, seduced or forced, her way into their lives, and then destroyed them. With influence, with rumors, or once, with her own powers. It said a lot about Erich, that that made a lot more sense to him than the meta-human simply being attracted to him as a person. So as the hours went on, he sat and nodded, without making any promises or accepting any advances. It was nerve racking, but he thought he was doing a reasonably good job. "Can we skip this bit?" He blurted out. "I... what?" Sarah said, stopping midstream. "The bit where you worm your way into my good graces.¡± He murmured, ¡°If you want to get your jollies off on destroying me, you really don¡¯t need to bother with all the subterfuge.¡± To her credit, the girl¡¯s confusion was very believable, ¡°Erich, honey, you¡¯re not making any sense.¡± ¡°That. The whole ¡®honey¡¯ thing.¡± He said, ¡°You really don¡¯t have to bother.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t like me flirting with you?¡± She asked incredulously. ¡°Is this because of the thing back at your shop? That was just business, lover. No need to let it sour things. Besides, you¡¯re working for Daddy now.¡± Yep he was well aware of the fact that he was working for her father. That was the only reason he had finally managed to drum up the courage to speak. ¡°No, it has nothing to do with that.¡± Erich said, taking a sip of his drink. ¡°I don¡¯t like you flirting with me because it¡¯s a prelude to you wrecking my life as part of some twisted little game you¡¯ve got going on.¡± ¡°You¡­ you can¡¯t talk to me like that.¡± Sarah said as she finally recovered from her shock, the barest crackle of static electricity audible in the air. As he shrugged, he wondered why she didn¡¯t have a Cape name? Her old man and her, assumedly, half-sister did. Maybe he just hadn¡¯t heard it yet? ¡°Looks like I can.¡± He said. Although, for how much longer, remained to be seen. ¡°But by all means, fry me for my audacity... or leave me be.¡± He was reasonably sure she wouldn¡¯t kill him. Hard-Light wanted that suit. That was the method to his madness. He figured it was better to see off Sarah now, while he was still reasonably ¡®indispensable¡¯, rather than wait for whatever scheme she was cooking up to come to fruition. Admittedly, not the best plan in the world, but he was quite drunk when he started putting it together, five minutes or so ago. Inebriation wasn¡¯t the worst thing in the world though. He would like to say it was his steely resolve that kept him calm as electricity arced between the woman¡¯s fingertips, but if he was honest, it was probably the alcohol. It was definitely the alcohol that had given him the courage to speak up in the first place. ¡°Oh, I think I¡¯ll do one better than that.¡± The Sarah hissed, fire in her eyes. He raised an eyebrow, ¡°Oh really, what-¡± His question was cut off by the sensation of a mild electric shock to the stomach. Instinctively, he leaned over, and as he did, he felt two soft lips press against his own. ¡­What? His eyes were wide open, and so he found himself staring into Sarah¡¯s own as their lips locked together. For just a brief moment he stared into those bright blue eyes. They were very attractive, even on a psychopath. Of course, then they had to remind him of that fact by taking on a distinctively vindictive twist. Sarah slapped him. Hard. In fact, it was so hard that the sound carried over the music and conversation all around them, drawing eyes from all over the party. Even from the M¨¦nage ¨¤ trois he had spotted on the way in. ¡°Bastard!¡± Sarah shouted, very authentic looking tears forming in her eyes as she stormed off. Erich watched her go, absently holding his throbbing cheek. What the fuck was that? He thought. To his credit, it only took him a few seconds to notice the many eyes on him. The many unkind and angry looking eyes. Ah, of course, He thought, heart sinking into his stomach. It looks like I just forced a kiss on the boss¡¯s daughter. At the man¡¯s party. Surrounded by witnesses. Shit. Chapter Three ¡°He¡¯s going to kill me.¡± Erich muttered as he threaded a coolant line through the suit. Hell, he considered it a minor miracle that he had even gotten out of the party alive. It was only the timely arrival of Gravity, and her physically taking him by the arm, that had gotten him out the door and back to the car. ¡°Hard-Light¡¯s not going to kill you.¡± Gravity said without looking up from her work. ¡°He wants the suit too much for that.¡± ¡°She¡¯s going to kill me then.¡± He said, very tactfully not pointing out that Gravity never referred to the man as her father. Always as Hard-Light. His own family situation was complicated enough that he couldn''t exactly go around pointing fingers at others. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ unlikely.¡± Gravity murmured, ¡°Sarah might be a temperamental bitch, but she knows not to cross her ¡®Daddy¡¯.¡± ¡°Great. So the only thing standing between me and a very messy death is one unstable woman¡¯s daddy issues.¡± He said. Gravity was less than sympathetic, ¡°What can I say, Erich? You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes. Was it that hard to just sit there quietly for a few hours? He thought about arguing, explaining the subtle genius of his plan, but ultimately deflated. After all, the results spoke for themselves. He¡¯d underestimated Sarah, and now he was paying the price. ¡°How are thing¡¯s coming with those laser cannons?¡± He sighed. That was the second topic his complaints had revolved around that evening. He¡¯d specified force blasters in the parts list. Sure, laser weapons were a step up from conventional guns, but they still weren¡¯t as powerful or flexible as force blasters. And they didn¡¯t hold a candle to the destructive power of plasma weaponry. Not that he was dumb enough to work with plasma. In any capacity. ¡°I¡¯ve nearly extracted them from their coolant jackets.¡± She said as she rubbed an oily smear from her cheek, ¡°though I still don¡¯t see why you couldn¡¯t have just left them as they were.¡± Erich snorted at the very idea. He wouldn¡¯t have used those jackets to cool his beer, let alone high-tech weaponry. Hard-Light was one scary motherfucker, but he knew jack-shit about sustainable design principles. If Erich had installed those cannons as they were when he received them, he would have put two to one odds on them melting the suit¡¯s arms within five minutes of its first real firefight. ¡°Well it¡¯s nearly done now, so you don¡¯t need to keep complaining about it.¡± He said, ¡°Besides, those cannons will be easier to install into the suit once I¡¯ve put my cooling jackets on them.¡± His preening was cut short though, as the coolant line he was working on started to kink again. He swore. At the very least his coolant jackets would be easier to install than this pig of a system. He had tried for nearly two hours to get it threaded into the suit conventionally, before giving up and simply pulling off the suit¡¯s armor plating so he could get easier access to its innards. As a result, the suit was currently a little bare. Just looking at it, he couldn¡¯t help but see some kind of demented steampunk skeleton standing ready to receive an enema from the world¡¯s coldest hosepipe. ¡­Though he wisely kept that observation to himself. He doubted Gravity would appreciate his artistic interpretation of current events. A loud bang echoed through the shop, causing him to jolt his head against the suit¡¯s frame. Cursing - more in surprise than pain - he looked up to see what idiot was making such a ruckus. Which was why he got a perfect view of the shotgun wielding skinhead who burst through the shop¡¯s side entrance, barrel smoking from where he had shot out the lock. The two men¡¯s eyes met for one heart stopping moment, before the skinhead was thrown backward. Erich heard a surprised shriek as the invader was bodily tossed back outside, but it was quickly cut off by the sound of the door slamming home once more. He was like a kite caught in a sudden updraft, He thought numbly. The repair shop owner simply sat in stunned incomprehension for a moment, before a powerful grip forcibly dragged him behind a nearby worktable. "Get down you idiot!" Gravity shouted, drawing her pistol with one hand, while her other flared with strange green energy. Ah, so that¡¯s what threw him, Erich realized Gravity¡¯s a Meta. He had been wondering. What with her relation to Hard-Light. Though, one¡¯s parent being a Meta wasn¡¯t a guarantee of developing powers, but it was still far more likely than- ¡°Snap out of it.¡± Gravity hissed, shoving him in the chest, ¡°Do you have a gun?¡± A gun? He still had a few of the laser pistols he had been working on for¡­ No. He didn¡¯t. Gravity had taken them with her on the night of the party. They¡¯d probably already been distributed to Hard-Light¡¯s goons. ¡°No.¡± ¡°Ok, I want you-¡± Gravity started, before turning to him with wide eyes, ¡°Wait, you don¡¯t have a gun!?¡± He shook his head, numbly noting the sound of banging coming from the doorway, and the way that the energy swirling around Gravity¡¯s hand seemed to flair in time with each thump. How interesting. ¡°How don¡¯t you have a gun!? You live and work in this neighborhood. Hell, you build guns!¡± ¡°Not before a fortnight ago.¡± He pointed out, a little indignation rising to the fore. ¡°And the crooks around here are too terrified of Hard-Light to cause trouble.¡± Honestly, it was one of the safer parts of the city. That had been part of the reason he set up shop here. Well, that and the fact that it was one of the only places he could afford. Gravity looked like she wanted to slap him. ¡°Well then, seeing as you are apparently utterly defenseless, stay behind cover and try not to get shot.¡± He could do that. In fact, he was reasonably sure he could make it to the staff bathroom and squeeze out the tiny window in there. You couldn¡¯t find much better cover than putting a city block between you and a firefight, could you? And besides, Gravity seemed to have everything well in hand here. As if to mock him for his thoughts, that was the moment that whatever power she had gave way, and the door exploded inward. ¡°Shit.¡± The woman swore, giving voice to Erich¡¯s own thoughts, as the skinhead from before barreled back inside; his nose bleeding and clothes disheveled. Not that his rage did him much good when Gravity casually shot him in the chest. As she did, Erich was suddenly reminded of a funny fact about lasers, or rather, masers. People tended to assume that they created a nice and small, cauterized hole. A perfect cut, as it were. That wasn¡¯t really the case at all. At least not with anti-personnel lasers. They were designed to move energy from point A to point B, as fast as humanly possible. Specifically heat energy. This sudden transference of energy has a pretty explosive effect on water. Any hit by the beam ¨C of which the human body comprises eighty percent ¨C instantly turns to vapor. The name for this phenomena was ¡®explosive vaporization¡¯. An effect Erich got to see firsthand as the beam struck the skinhead full in the chest. If he were later forced to recount the experience, he would struggle to say which was worse. The sight of the damage wrought by the shot, or the vaguely damp pop that accompanied it. Needless to say, he looked away as the skinhead¡¯s steaming carcass fell to the floor, mercifully dead before he even hit the ground.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. A second figure dashed into the room. Another skinhead who¡¯s eyes went wide as they took in the corpse of his compatriot. To his credit, he reacted quickly, spinning round to bring his pistol up even as he bellowed with rage. Gravity already had him in her sights though. She shot him with the same cool confidence with which she had dispatched his friend. Only this time there was no damp pop. ¡°Meta-Human.¡± Erich whispered, dread filling him, as the figure took the shot full to his chest and kept coming; a slight blemish the only thing to show that he had even been hit at all. Both Erich and Gravity stared in mute astonishment, before the thug turned to hose down Gravity¡¯s hiding spot with bullets. The woman gave a surprisingly girly yelp as she ducked down behind the worktable, narrowly avoiding the shots that winged over her toward the- The suit! Erich thought. The moron is going to damage the suit! Before he could even think, he was leaping out from his hiding spot. Ignoring Gravity¡¯s surprised yell, he grabbed a nearby chunk of discarded armor, holding it in front of him like a shield as he jogged backward. ¡°Quit firing, you goddamn philistine!¡± He cursed the man, wincing as a stray rounds pinged off the metal in his hands. ¡°Do you have any idea what your messing with here?¡± His precious suit was not about to be sullied by the hands of this¡­ this¡­ thug! Only, as he waited with bated breath for more shots to come, nothing happened. Cautiously peeking out from behind his make-shift shield, he saw Gravity had not wasted his entirely unintentional distraction. Both of her hands were flaring bright green as she pointed toward the Bruiser class meta-human. The skinhead was struggling and straining, but he was firmly pinned in place by the force of Gravity¡¯s power. He was still standing, if only barely, but it was clearly taxing for him to remain that way as his arms remained slumped against his sides by the downward force being projected onto him. ¡°I¡¯m gonna rip your fucking head off you whore!¡± The guy roared as his limbs trembled with the exertion of holding himself up. Even from a distance, Erich could see the veins popping up on the guy¡¯s crimson face. ¡°Do something, Erich.¡± Gravity said, still calm, but with an audible strain to her voice as she held both arms out. ¡°¡­What?¡± Erich asked, slowly lowering his makeshift shield. ¡°Do something!¡± The woman roared, the light in her hands flickering. Right. Do something, Erich thought as he looked around for something, anything. Welding torch? Nope. Spanner? Nope. Shotgun. Nope. Suit? Hell no. Cooling Jacket. Nope. Las- Yes, that might do. ¡°Hold him still.¡± Erich called out as he dashed across the room. ¡°What do you think I¡¯m doing?¡± Gravity hissed. Their temporary prisoner screamed. ¡°You fucks killed Gregor. When I get out of this, I¡¯m going to shove your head up his ass!¡± ¡°Charming.¡± Erich muttered as he started ripping out wires and realigning them with his bare hands. ¡°Quickly, Erich.¡± Gravity called, ¡°I don¡¯t know how long I can hold him.¡± Because I was totally taking it easy before you told me that. He thought as he franticly jammed a power cable into a slot. The thought of your severed head compromising my rectum¡¯s structural integrity was incentive enough, thanks. ¡°Just another second.¡± He called out as he started to turn the device he was holding toward it¡¯s target, wincing as it audibly shrieked as it dragged along the metal worksurface. Their prisoner was having none of it, and as the light in Gravity¡¯s hands started to die his struggles became more pronounced. ¡°Do you fucks have any idea who the fuck I am? Do you know who you¡¯re fucking¡­ with¡­ what the fuck is that?¡± ¡°Laser cannon.¡± Erich said simply as he jammed two wires together. The thug¡¯s scream of agony filled the shop as a constant beam of searing red light hit him in the chest. The sheer intensity of the laser¡¯s beam had Erich squinting as heat rolled off the cannon in front of him. Even his hands were beginning to sting where he was holding the cannon as the metal of the device started to heat up. Because of course we¡¯d already removed the coolant jackets. For just a few seconds Erich feared the powerful weapon wouldn¡¯t be enough; that the guy was a rank four Bruiser, or higher, and that the beam was just a painful inconvenience. He needn¡¯t have worried. The smell was the first thing to tip him off. Not entirely indistinct from pork, it filled the room just as the skinhead¡¯s animal screams of agony started to trail off into silence as oily smoke wafted off him. Still, Erich didn¡¯t cut the flow of power to the laser. Not until it¡¯s frame started to melt through the bench it was sitting on, and he could physically no longer hold it in place. Although, by that point their opponent was little more than a charred husk. Barely even identifiable as a human being anymore. When he finally did cut the power he slumped back, ignoring the sound of bubbling metal as the thoroughly ruined weapon sank into the bench. "Erich?" Honestly, Erich was amazed no one had come to investigate the screams. As he had said before, Hard-Light ran a pretty tight ship. Screams and gunfire were pretty rare sounds in this neighborhood. "Erich?" Then again, why would they? It wasn¡¯t like they had anything to gain by coming to see what the ruckus was. No community spirit in this part of town. Not even a decent degree of morbid curiosity. Better to leave it to Hard-Light¡¯s goons, the cops or a hero to resolve. Though, did the Guild even come out- ¡°Erich!¡± ¡°Huh?¡± He gasped, taking his first proper breath in the last few minutes. The tightness in his chest receded as fresh oxygen flowed into his system. ¡°That¡¯s it.¡± Gravity patted him gently on the back. ¡°Just breathe.¡± What do you think I¡¯m doing, he tried to snark back, but all that came out was a heaving cough. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get out of here.¡± The woman said, gently guiding him by the arm. ¡°Some fresh air will help. Momentarily he considered the possibility of their being other attackers outside, but after a moment¡¯s thought, found he didn¡¯t care. He just wanted to get away from the smell. The act of walking seemed a lot harder than it should have been though. His legs felt like jelly, and he had to put real thought into putting one leg in front of the other as he made sure to step around the corpse of their first attacker. Am I in shock? He thought as the pair of them stepped out into the cool evening air, I¡¯m making weapons for a supervillain, and I¡¯m going to pieces over finally using one myself. Some badass weapons manufacturer he was. ¡°You¡¯re doing fine, Erich.¡± Gravity murmured, rubbing his back, ¡°It¡¯s rough on everyone the first time.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what she said.¡± He coughed. ¡°Really?¡± She said with a wry twist of her lip, ¡°That¡¯s what you¡¯re going with?¡± He shrugged as he backed into a wall, luxuriating in the cool sensation of the brickwork on his back. ¡°Whatever.¡± She said, as she pulled out a phone. ¡°You going be ok while I call up Hard-Light?¡± ¡°Just peachy.¡± He shrugged as he stared up at the night sky, breathing in the curious malaise of garbage and exhaust fumes that made up city air. It had rained recently, and dampness was soaking into his pants and shirt, but he found he didn¡¯t care. He sat like that while Gravity walked away, and he was still sat there when she returned. ¡°Right, some of his guys should be on their way. They¡¯ll take care of the cleanup.¡± Of the bodies. Of which he was contributor. ¡°Do we need to worry about the cops?¡± He asked, more to make noise than because he was actually interested in the answer. The last thing he needed was someone running a background check on him. That could unearth all manner of... uncomfortable truths. ¡°In this neighborhood? No. They know the rules.¡± Gravity said, ¡°A hero might be more tricky, but I sincerely doubt we¡¯ll catch any of those around here. Not enough rich folks to impress.¡± He nodded. "Seriously though.¡± The woman huffed, ¡°The fucking Brotherhood? And a Meta? Hard-Light¡¯s gonna be pissed. Someone from last night¡¯s party must have talked. Still, didn¡¯t think those racist assholes would be dumb enough to act on it.¡± He shrugged, not really listening. The dynamics of the local criminal element weren¡¯t really what he wanted to think about right now. Which was why he was taken completely off guard when he felt a strange force acting on him, lifting him to his feet. ¡°Come on,¡± Gravity said, tugging him by the arm as the residual light from her ability faded. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here.¡± Startled, he followed along as the woman dragged him toward her car. ¡°Where are we going?¡± ¡°A bar.¡± His eyes goggled even as he slipped into the vehicle, ¡°What about the bodies? Shouldn¡¯t we be watching the crime scene?¡± ¡°Hard-Light¡¯s guys will be here any minute. I figure the place will be fine if left unattended for a few minutes.¡± Gravity¡¯s white teeth shone brightly in the darkness when set against her chocolate skin. Captivated by the sight, he nearly jumped out of his seat as her car came to life with a throaty roar. He definitely felt his heart skip a beat when he was thrown back into his seat as the car flew out of it¡¯s parking space and onto the street. ¡°The way I see it, you need a drink and a woman.¡± She said. Even with his mind muddled with the events of the last few hours, he still felt his face flush at the frank statement. The woman raised an eyebrow teasingly, ¡°You should try it, kid. Sex after a shootout is the best. Nothing takes the edge off better.¡± Erich resisted the urge to point out that she was only a year or two older than him. ¡°Well, if you¡¯re offering¡­¡± Gravity laughed, not taking her eyes off the road as they sped through the night. ¡°Nice try kid, but I¡¯m an old fashioned kind of gal. You¡¯ll need to do better than a shootout with Neo-Nazis for a first date if you want to try your hand at romancing me.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡± She turned to grin at him, ¡°Though you do get some props for saving my ass with the distraction, and that bit with the cannon.¡± He had to turn away from the woman¡¯s dazzling smile. ¡°I was just saving my own bacon and protecting the suit. Nothing more.¡± Gravity turned back to the road, smile still firmly in place. ¡°As you say, Erich. As you say.¡± Chapter Four ¡°Gravity, you better open this door, or so help me god¡­¡± Ignoring the pounding of his headache, Erich continued banging on the door to the apartment above his shop. Specifically, his apartment. One that he was currently locked out of. Still, even with his enthusiastic pummeling of the entrance, it took Gravity a full five minutes before she cracked open the door to his home. Naked, and looking none too pleased to have been woken up. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You left me on a bench in the park.¡± He growled, refusing to be distracted by her nakedness - lovely as it was. ¡°Someone stole my wallet, keys and phone, a police officer accused me of being a vagrant, and I had to catch a bus back here.¡± The woman shrugged. ¡°I didn¡¯t want you throwing up in my car.¡± ¡°So you left me on a park bench!?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a nice car.¡± She defended. ¡°Besides, your stuff is fine. I took your keys, phone and wallet off you before I left. I even left you your bus pass.¡± She almost sounded like she wanted to be thanked for that last detail. Unfortunately for her, Erich was not feeling particularly thankful. Perhaps it was the hangover. Perhaps it was the result of the morning shower that had woken him up. Perhaps it was being accused of vagrancy. Who knew? ¡°Listen you¡­¡± He started to say, only to cut himself off as he noticed something. A love-bite. Actually, a few love-bites. Trailing along the woman¡¯s collarbone. Fresh ones. Rising horror dawned in him, ¡°You didn¡¯t.¡± She grinned. ¡°I¡¯m going to have to throw out that couch.¡± He complained. Don¡¯t be a baby.¡± She said, before grinning, ¡°it¡¯s not the couch you should worry about. ¡°My bed!?¡± He moaned in horror, ¡°You slept in my bed. With some random jerkoff from the bar. While I was sleeping on a park bench.¡± He hadn¡¯t even slept with anyone in his bed! ¡°There wasn¡¯t a lot of sleeping going on.¡± She winked, ¡°besides it was a woman.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not the gender I care about.¡± He hissed, ¡°It¡¯s the fact that you sullied my bed.¡± Couldn¡¯t they have used a hotel? He had no idea what kind of pay Gravity received from her criminal exploits, but he was pretty sure it was enough to afford a cheap motel. ¡°Christ, you¡¯re like a kid worrying about cooties.¡± The woman muttered. Erich ignored her, taking a deep calming breath before reaching inside to grab his keys off the key-rack. ¡°I¡¯m going downstairs to work on the suit. In two hours I expect your partner for the evening to be gone, my sheets to be on their second wash cycle, and you to be ready to work.¡± Gravity shrugged, starting to turn away before looking back, ¡°You could come in and join us if you want? Consider it my apology for the bench thing, and a reward for your heroism last night.¡± Erich froze halfway through stomping back down the hall. His heart thudding in his chest as blood roared in his ears. And other places. He was tempted. Make no mistake. It had been a while. His pride warred against the pragmatic allure of a sexy threesome. How many times was an opportunity like this going to come up again? ¡°Just wash my sheets.¡± He huffed, before continuing his trek downstairs. ¡°Your loss.¡± Gravity shrugged, nudging the door shut as she retreated back into the apartment.
Erich was still cursing himself and his stubborn pride when he stepped into the shop. In fact, he was so caught up in his anger and regret it took him a few seconds to note that he had just walked through a doorway that had been battered down last night. Spinning in place, he saw that the door looked good as new. ¡°Fresh hinges. Fresh lock.¡± He muttered. Looking around the shop, he found that everywhere else was the same. The bodies were gone. The damage was gone. Hell, even the smell was gone. Replaced by a lemony fresh tint that seemed subtly out of place in a machine shop. If it weren¡¯t for the half melted remains of the laser cannon that was still stuck to one of his workbenches, he might have been tempted to write off the events of last night as a dream. Whoever Hard-Light¡¯s clean up crew were, they were very good at their jobs. Though it seemed even they had been stumped by the modern art exhibition that used to be the cannon and workbench. Hopefully they were going to come back at a later date to deal with that. Sighing and dismissing the thought from his mind, Erich reached over to boot up a nearby omni-pad, scrolling through its menus until he reached the diagnostic app. To his relief, the suit was entirely intact. His impromptu heroics had managed to keep the machine from any real damage. ¡°Good. Very good.¡± He grinned. To be honest, he was surprised, and mildly disappointed in himself, that he had waited until morning to check it over. Apparently, murdering a man threw me off my game more than I thought. The reminder of what he had done the night before made his stomach to roil in a manner entirely distinct from hangover nausea. Cursing and seeking to distract himself, he got stuck into the installment of the suit¡¯s coolant system. ¡­Though he did find himself stopping on two separate occasions to ensure that the door was still locked. Nearly two hours later though, he was sweaty and tired, but bathed in the sweet satisfaction of a job well done. The suit¡¯s coolant system was in place, and for all intents and purposes seemed to be working as intended. Though he wouldn¡¯t really know for sure until he put it through its paces. Which I¡¯ll need Gravity for. Whenever she deigns to grace us with her presence. As if on cue, he heard the familiar sound of footsteps behind him. His muscles tensed slightly at the noise, before he chided himself for jumping at shadows. He wasn¡¯t about to let the incident from last night turn him into a paranoid wreck. Or at least, more of a paranoid wreck. ¡°About damn time you got here, Gravity.¡± He grunted with deliberate calm, ¡°If you¡¯re quite done with your conquest of the evening, I need you to contact Hard-Light and ask him if he wants me to install the remaining laser cannon. We can do it; but having just one will make the suit¡¯s oversized cooling system kind of redundant.¡± Which he was loathe to let happen. Nothing frustrated him more than leaving a job half done. ¡°As gratifying as it is to learn my girl¡¯s got a healthy sex life, that¡¯s not why I¡¯m here.¡± Hard-Light¡¯s deep baritone caused him to jump, slamming his head into the frame of the suit for the second time in as many days.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. ¡°Fucking Christ!¡± He cursed, clutching at his throbbing skull, before turning to face the supervillain, ¡°I mean¡­ It¡¯s good to see you, sir. The man ignored his words, stepping past him to look at the suit. As he did, he dropped a bag full of something on the ground. Erich was forced to stand in awkward silence, head stinging, as he wondered if he should start begging or get ready to run. Gravity had said Diego wouldn¡¯t kill him for what transpired at the party, but now the man was standing in front of him, Erich wasn¡¯t feeling quite so sure. ¡°You can quit pissing your pants over there.¡± The man said after nearly a minute of heart-stopping silence. ¡°I¡¯m not about to fly off the handle over my other girl¡¯s little stunt. I¡¯m not quite as blind to her games as people seem to think I am.¡± Erich knew he should have felt relieved at that news. But he didn¡¯t. The feeling of danger that had been present ever since the man had stepped into the room had not dissipated with his words. ¡°Though Erich, with what I¡¯ve learned about your history.¡± The man said, finally turning to regard the stunned repairman, ¡°you might be wise to be nervous. Or should I call you, Jason? Fake identities can be such a bitch to keep track of, right?¡± Erich thought his heart would explode in his chest. For just a second, he considered trying to run; eyes darting to the open door as he gauged his chances. The sound Hard-Light¡¯s energy blade humming to life strangled that idea in the crib though. ¡°Don¡¯t run.¡± The man growled. ¡°Talk. Who knows, I like what I hear, and you might even walk out of here in one piece.¡± Erich nodded numbly, feeling the fight go out of him as he slumped against a desk. ¡°If you know who I am, or was, you know who my sister is, right?¡± He said without preamble. The supervillain nodded slowly. ¡°And my mother, father and grandfather?¡± He continued. Again, the supervillain gave a slow nod. ¡°Right, well, not to knock around the bush, but I¡¯m a genius.¡± Erich said, ¡°I can do more with meta-tech than most Artificers can even dream. The fact that you hired me to work on that suit should be proof enough of that.¡± He said gesturing to the silent frame. ¡°It¡¯s very impressive, kid.¡± Hard-Light said, ¡°But I¡¯m not hearing a reason not to take one of your limbs off for trying to deceive me and my crew.¡± ¡°Not intentionally!¡± Erich said, ¡°I¡¯m not like¡­ some kind of¡­ undercover agent or something.¡± The villain shrugged, ¡°That remains to be seen; though the fact that it was so pitifully easy for me to see through your fake documents, says that might not be total bullshit.¡± The man looked momentarily contemplative, ¡°The Guild would have done a much better job of creating a fake identity. That, and the fact that you helped my little girl last night, are the only reasons we are having this conversation.¡± Erich nodded hastily, ¡°Right. So I¡¯m a genius. Top of my classes. In everything. Forever. Prodigious talent with Meta-tech¡­ And it means sweet fuck all to anyone.¡± Hard-Light quirked an eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯m serious. All my life I¡¯ve been in my sister¡¯s shadow. In everything. Always.¡± Erich shrugged, ¡°I didn¡¯t particularly mind. Not even as a kid. It was what it was, and I never cared much for fame or being popular.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not here to hear about your ¡®awful¡¯ childhood, kid. I want to know why the supposedly dead brother of the Blur is in my organization, wearing a fake name.¡± Hard-Light huffed. ¡°Right, right.¡± Erich said hurriedly. ¡°Long story short. I couldn¡¯t find a job. Anywhere. No one wanted me. Too much of a security risk, see. Too many guys like you - no offense - who would use me to get at my sister.¡± Erich took a deep breath to calm himself, ¡°Well, as it turns out, they were right. One day, out of nowhere, the caf¨¦ I¡¯m in explodes. Literally explodes. Bodies everywhere. Very messy.¡± He could feel a cold sweat forming on his neck as he remembered it: the heat, the flames¡­the smell of burning flesh. ¡°I get out by the skin of my teeth. A bit of tech I was tinkering with protected me. Totaled the device in the process, but saved my hide.¡± Erich grinned weakly, ignoring the queasy sensation in his stomach as he remembered just how close he¡¯d been to dying. Pure luck had been what saved him. ¡°Everyone thinks I¡¯m dead. Villains are coming out of the wood work left and right, all claiming to be the ones responsible.¡± To date, he still had no clue which of the pricks was actually responsible. He didn¡¯t really care either. He wasn¡¯t Jason anymore. He was Erich. ¡°Faster, kid.¡± Hard-Light said, bringing up his energy blade with a deadly hum. ¡°I saw an opportunity!¡± Erich shouted, ¡°A chance to escape from my sister and my family¡¯s legacy. I took it. Easy enough to do. I knew a few people. People I could pay off to create an ID!¡± Hard-Light still looked dubious. ¡°So you, a genius, came to this shithole of a city and set up a repair shop?¡± Erich shrugged nervously, ¡°Makes more sense than you think. Forging an ID for a new identity is one thing, recreating all my qualifications is entirely another. No one in my preferred fields would hire me without them. Easier to set up shop. Better with tech than people.¡± Hard-Light grunted noncommittally, Erich could see in his eyes that he was thinking about it though. Not that it matters, Erich thought cynically. This life is over. Even if the thug didn¡¯t kill him, he would try and use him as a tool to get at his sister. As usual. He would be dragged back to being Jason once again. Probably be slapped with some criminal sentence for faking his death. The headlines would be all over it. A chance to smear a leading hero¡¯s perfect image. In the end that was all his life amounted to: a weak spot in his sister¡¯s. ¡°Alright.¡± Hard-Light shrugged. ¡°Alright, what?¡± Erich laughed bitterly. ¡°Alright, I believe you.¡± The supervillain said, pointing to the bag he had brought in with him, ¡°I¡¯ve left the new weapons for the suit in there. Force blaster this time.¡± Erich barely heard him. Hell, he could scarcely believe his ears. ¡°What? You¡¯re not going to¡­ I don¡¯t know? Take me hostage?¡± Hard-Light looked at him like he was slow, ¡°Do I look like I want to tangle with the Blur? She¡¯s so out of my league it¡¯s not even funny. No, it¡¯s better for me if everyone continues to believe you and your mechanical skills are dead.¡± Erich had to concede that the man had a point. Blur would wipe the floor with him. It wouldn¡¯t even be a fight. Hard-Light continued, ¡°As interesting as your origins are, they don¡¯t change my problems. The Brotherhood¡¯s getting to be more of a pain in my ass by the day. This latest attack is just the latest in a long line. I need that suit, and to get it, I need you and your scrawny ass to keep working on it.¡± Erich couldn¡¯t believe it was the simple. ¡­But he wanted to. ¡°Sure.¡± He said numbly, not quite able to believe what was happening. ¡°Good, get to it.¡± He said, already walking back toward the doors. ¡°Don¡¯t make me regret this, kid.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t.¡± He called back. As the doors slammed behind the supervillain, Erich slumped even further against the desk ¡°What the fuck?¡± He breathed leaning back against the metal, before wincing as a stab of pain went through his head where he¡¯d banged it on the suit. ¡°Motherfucker,¡± He cursed, shooting up, ¡°Fuck, I can¡¯t be bothered thinking about this shit. I need some Tylenol.¡± He winced as his sudden movement gave him a whiff of himself, ¡°And a shower.¡± Who knew? Maybe the world would start making sense again afterward. ¡­Though he sincerely doubted it.
Erich still didn¡¯t quite believe Hard-Light words, even two days after the man¡¯s visit. Sure, the guy hadn¡¯t told anyone else Erich¡¯s origins as far as he was aware, but he was still pretty sure the villain had some long term scheme for him in mind. Even if Erich had no idea what it was. At the end of the day, he decided not to think about it. It wasn¡¯t like there was anything he could about it anyway. He had zero faith in his ability to evade the supervillain if he tried to go to ground again. He was an engineer at heart. He built things. He fixed things. Fake names and living on the run was so far beyond him it wasn¡¯t even funny. The fact that it had taken Hard-Light all of two weeks to find out his real name was proof of that. Was he avoiding the situation? Probably. He already had enough problems as it was; nightmares about the guy he had killed, and a general inability to sleep because of them ranking least among them. As a result, he was feeling fairly groggy when he stumbled out of bed that morning, roused by the sounds of someone pounding on the door. He got ready to yell out to Gravity to answer it, only to remember that she wasn¡¯t there. Some criminal thing that would apparently keep her out for the day. Under different circumstances he might have been worried about another Brotherhood attack, but Hard-Light had taken to posting a few goons around the shop at all hours of the day after their little chat. To date, Erich still wasn¡¯t quite sure whether they were protecting the suit, or watching him. Another thing he tried not to think about too hard. Cursing his poor luck, he staggered toward the door, getting ready to cuss out whoever was so rude as to pound on his door first thing in the¡­ he checked his phone. Afternoon. Fuck, he needed to get over this guilt bullshit. He ripped open the door with an angry sneer, ¡°What!?¡± To find the surprised face of Sarah Williams staring back at him, one delicate hand still raised to knock. ¡°Ah, hi?¡± She said, recovering quickly. Erich simply stared in open mouthed stupefaction. ¡°You going to invite me in?¡± The attractive blonde criminal said. ¡°We need to talk, and this hallway isn¡¯t really the place-¡± Erich slammed the door, running to find something to defend himself with, even as an indignant shout echoed from the hall. Chapter Five The knocking did not abate. ¡°Go away!¡± ¡°Not until you talk to me you jackass.¡± Sarah¡¯s voice was muffled by the door, but her irritation was clear. ¡°Well you¡¯re going to be there a long time.¡± Erich grunted as he cocked his new pistol. An entirely conventional model, but it was all he could get his hands on at short notice. Still, it would be plenty effective against Sarah. ¡°Not if I break this goddamn door down.¡± Shit. She would do it too. Fuck it. Let¡¯s get this over with. ¡°What?¡± He asked as he cracked the door open a few inches, keeping his pistol just out of sight. Sarah still looked furious, but she swallowed it down after a few moments. ¡°I need to talk to you¡­ I need to¡­ apologize.¡± Erich couldn¡¯t believe his ears, ¡°You? Apologize?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± She sighed. ¡°Now are you going to let me in?¡± He really didn¡¯t want to, but he was pretty sure that Sarah wouldn¡¯t budge on the matter. Grudgingly he opened the door. The blonde scoffed at the gun in his hand, but stepped inside nonetheless. ¡°About time.¡± ¡°You were much more charming when you were trying to kill me.¡± He deadpanned. ¡°And you were much more charming when you were terrified of me. And... I wasn¡¯t trying to kill you.¡± She scowled, before hesitating, ¡°...Well, at least not until the very end.¡± Erich didn¡¯t believe a word of it. Which must have shown on his face. ¡°I wasn¡¯t!¡± The woman flushed. ¡°Not until you insulted me at least.¡± Erich shook his head, ¡°Sure. Now why are you here?¡± ¡°Daddy wants me to bury the hatchet.¡± Sarah sniffed, ¡°He doesn¡¯t want his right hand and his lead mechanic at each other¡¯s throats. Not if we¡¯re going to be working together.¡± Erich nearly choked on the glass of water he¡¯d just grabbed. ¡°Lead mechanic?¡± The woman shrugged, ¡°He must have been happy with what you were doing with that suit. He announced it as soon as he got back the mansion.¡± Great. Erich thought. He¡¯d just been unceremoniously moved into the supervillain¡¯s permanent employ. So much for a quick repair job. ¡°Right. Well, message received. Apology accepted. You can go now.¡± He sighed, slumping into a chair. The meta-human practically growled, ¡°Do you have to be so aggravating?¡± ¡°You tried to have me murdered.¡± Erich said, nearly gesturing with his gun before thinking better of it. Being armed in her presence was one thing. Actually aiming a weapon at the boss¡¯s daughter was another. ¡°You insinuated I was some kind¡­ succubus!¡± ¡°Well you are, aren¡¯t you? You string along men and them break them! It¡¯s some kind of twisted game for you.¡± He pointed out. The blonde actually started to flush red, ¡°I do not! Where did you even get such a ridiculous idea?¡± He almost said ¡®Terry¡¯ before thinking better of it. Mentioning that his primary source of information was the heroin dealer who hung out outside his shop probably wasn¡¯t the smartest move. Actually, using the man as a source of information suddenly didn¡¯t seem so smart either¡­ ¡°Hard-Light mentioned it to me the other day.¡± He remembered triumphantly, ¡°He said he¡¯s not ¡®entirely ignorant of your little games¡¯.¡± Which certainly suggested to him that Terry¡¯s info hadn¡¯t been complete bullshit. Though his confidence in that belief was left a little shaken when Sarah looked at him like he was an idiot. ¡°I¡¯m Daddy¡¯s right-hand girl. It¡¯s my job to keep an eye on his underlings. That means I have to get close to people. And sometimes I have to deal with them if they¡¯re getting out of line.¡± She shrugged, ¡°If I¡¯m a little flirty - and get rid of a few I don¡¯t like as I do it - what of it?¡± Ah, that made sense. In fucked up kind of way, to be sure, but sense nonetheless. Not that he was about to admit that. ¡°Sounds a lot like a succubus to me...¡± ¡°Shut up.¡± She hissed, ¡°God, I can¡¯t believe I was ever attracted to you.¡± Erich couldn¡¯t believe it either. Literally couldn''t. In fact, he still wasn¡¯t entirely sure that this whole ¡®apology¡¯ wasn¡¯t an act to lure him into a false sense of security. Still, if what she said was true - and that was big if - they were going to be working together in the future. It would probably be for the best if they at least superficially buried the hatchet. That, and if Hard-Light was the one to instruct her to come here, he didn¡¯t want to be the obstacle to the man¡¯s desires. Though he would be confirming that that was the case for himself later. He wasn¡¯t an idiot. Usually. ¡°Right, I¡¯m sorry as well.¡± He lied, running a hand through his hair, ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have said what I did.¡± ¡°I accept,¡± Sarah said, with what was probably an equally fake smile spreading across her face Deed done, the pair stood in silence for a few moments. ¡°Now what?¡± Erich asked when it became clear that she wasn¡¯t going to leave. ¡°Now you show me the suit, lover.¡± Sarah grinned, ¡°If I¡¯m to act as my father¡¯s right hand, I need to know what capabilities his new heavy hitter will have. It will also aid me in picking out a pilot for it when it¡¯s complete.¡± Erich ignored the fact that the woman had returned to the pet names. Instead he was focused on the complicated sensation that arose in his stomach at the thought of giving away the suit. Sure, he had zero desire to pilot it himself, but he wasn¡¯t entirely comfortable with someone else having it either. Especially not some barely literate thug. He grimaced, Is this what if feels like for a father when his daughter is getting married? If it was, he wasn¡¯t a fan. Good thing he never planned to have kids. ¡°Right.¡± He said, pulling his mind away from the ridiculous direction it had turned, ¡°I¡¯ll take you down and show you around.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure it will be enlightening.¡± Sarah smiled thinly, no doubt noting that he had slid his gun into his pants rather than put it down. ¡°Though you might want to get dressed and showered first, honey. You smell like a skunk that slept in a brewery.¡± Erich glanced down at the crumbled clothes that he had been wearing when he collapsed to bed last night. ¡°Right,¡± he muttered, heading back towards his room.
"Sugar, who cares if the chest is better shielded?¡± Sarah grumbled wiping a stray hair from her soot stained face as she looked up from her Omni-Pad. ¡°You¡¯re leaving the shoulders almost completely unprotected.¡± Equally filthy, Erich scowled as he fiddled with the suit¡¯s shield emitters. ¡°The shoulders don¡¯t need shields because the pauldrons are the most heavily armored part of the suit.¡± The woman huffed, ¡°Yes, if you ignore the fact the joints are exposed every time the arms reach above its head.¡± Ignoring her complaints ¨C much as he had all morning - Erich slid down off the suit. ¡°Alright, turn it on.¡± The blonde rolled her eyes, but did as he asked.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. With a low hum, yellow barriers made of solid light flared to life around the suit, creating a second layer of armor that floated just a few inches above the first. Heart swelling at the sight, Erich¡¯s eyes flicked down to his own omni-pad. ¡°Power drain is negligible.¡± Sarah murmured, giving voice to his own thoughts. ¡°Heat generation is within acceptable parameters.¡± Erich was impressed. The shields were beyond just being efficient. They were downright supernatural. Say what you would about the rest of Hard-Light¡¯s designs, when it came to tech dealing with his namesake, the man was an unparalleled Artificer. ¡°Alright, now shift emitters two and four a few inches to the right and left respectively.¡± Sarah murmured, jarring him from his moment of triumph.¡± ¡°What?¡± The woman scoffed, ¡°Just do it.¡± Erich thought about arguing just for the sake of it, but reigned in the desire at the last second. Remembering that he was supposed to be playing nice, he did as she asked, his fingers dancing across the pad¡¯s controls. He could always change it back later. Before his eyes, the solid light barriers started to twist around the suit. Sliding into a new configuration as the projectors on the armor¡¯s surface shifted position. ¡°There, isn¡¯t that much better?¡± Sarah smirked when the barriers finally stopped at their new destinations. Erich hated to admit it, but it was. The chest had a little less coverage than before, but the double overlay from before was still mostly intact. More importantly, the shoulder¡¯s joints were now almost entirely covered by the floating panels of solid light. ¡°You¡¯re good at this.¡± He admitted grudgingly. To his surprise, Sarah blushed a little, before hastily covering it up with a disdainful sniff, ¡°When your dad¡¯s an Artificer, you pick up a few things. Even if it¡¯s only to keep him from blowing himself and the house up.¡± That¡­ made a surprising amount of sense. It also explained Gravity¡¯s surprising degree of competence and familiarity with Meta-tech. The pair of half-sisters had probably spent nearly as much time around meta-tech as he had growing up. Though they both obviously lack my prodigious intellect, He observed. ¡°Speaking of which,¡± The woman said, a hint of eagerness entering her voice. ¡°I still say that you should skip over force blasters entirely. Switch up to plasma and we can really turn this suit into something to be feared.¡± Erich ignored the insinuation that his masterpiece wasn¡¯t already something to be feared. ¡°Yes, it would be.¡± He acknowledged, ¡°If only because it would be as much of a threat to it¡¯s pilot and allies as any hypothetical enemy. The reason no one fucks around with plasma is because magnetic containment systems have a tendency to fail when some Meta decides to throw the suit containing them through a few buildings.¡± And that wasn¡¯t even getting into how cost prohibitive a plasma-based weapons systems could get; not just in manhours but maintenance costs, and initial set up. Even madmen like the Master steered well clear of the stuff for that reason. Sarah rolled her eyes, clearly about to continue, but she was mercifully cut off by the sound of Erich¡¯s omni-phone going off. Relieved at the interruption, Erich quickly glanced at the number before answering the call. ¡°Hello Olivia.¡± ¡°I told you not to call me that.¡± The woman said from the other side of the phone, ¡°I¡¯m calling because I just got finished with the thing I told you about, and I was about to head down to the bar. Figured I would take pity on you and invite you along. Who knows, you might even manage to get laid this time.¡± Erich sighed at the casual mention of his nonexistent sex life. The woman was obssessed. Still, he did want to go. Sleeping was becoming something of a problem lately without a nightcap of one form or another. The usual rigmarole of a gulty conscience, he assumed. Getting knockout drunk of an evening was rapidly becoming his go to solution. ¡°I¡¯ll be there so long as you swing by the shop to pick me up.¡± ¡°I can do that.¡± ¡°Oh honey,¡± Sarah singsonged from across the room, ¡°Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s a little cold to make plans with my half-sister while you¡¯ve got me here with you? Even after we promised to make up?¡± Erich wondered how she knew he was talking to Gravity. Then he realized that it was a pretty easy guess to make. It wasn¡¯t like he knew anyone else in this city. Which would be kind of sad if he didn¡¯t find people an irritating inconvenience at best. And he didn¡¯t see how making plans with Gravity was snubbing Sarah. ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± Gravity teased through the phone, ¡°Have you got a woman over? Damn kid, I¡¯ve only been gone a day and you¡¯ve managed to snag someone. Maybe you don¡¯t even need my help to end that dry spell?¡± Erich scoffed, ¡°Hardly. It¡¯s your sister.¡± ¡°Half sister.¡± ¡°Half sister!¡± ¡°Half-sister then.¡± He sighed, not really caring about whatever beef they had with each other, ¡°She came over this morning to ¡®bury the hatchet¡¯.¡± ¡°And you believed her?¡± No. But he wasn¡¯t about to say that aloud. ¡°Sure. Why not.¡± He monotoned. ¡°She¡¯s spent that last few hours helping me with the suit. ¡°Whatever, I¡¯ll be there in half an hour. Try and wear something nice.¡± He could practically hear the scowl in her voice as she hung up. Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Erich turned to Sarah. Who was still watching him with an emotion he couldn''t quite place. ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure you can work out what that was about.¡± He murmured, ¡°Thanks for your help today, but I imagine you¡¯ll be wanting to report back to Hard-Light.¡± ¡°Actually,¡± the blonde said, momentarily hesitating, ¡°I think I¡¯ll join you and my¡­ half-sibling for drinks.¡± What? No seriously. What?
¡°I can¡¯t believe you brought her.¡± Erich stifled a sigh of relief that Gravity had finally broken the silence. The car ride over had been stiflingly awkward because of it. The tension between the two half-siblings had been tangible. Even to him. ¡°I didn¡¯t bring anyone.¡± He said as he took a sip of his drink, ¡°She chose to join us.¡± And he wasn¡¯t about to tangle with the lightning flinging Meta a second time. If Gravity had a problem with her sister¡¯s presence, she should have been the one to argue it. ¡°What¡¯s the matter Olivia? Afraid of losing your new toy.¡± The woman in question gave a catlike grin from across the table. Erich quirked his eyebrow at being referred to as a toy - and Olivia¡¯s - but kept his peace as he sat back and sipped his drink. ¡°Don¡¯t call me that, Sarah¡± Gravity growled, ¡°And no, he¡¯s not my toy. He¡¯s an assignment. One that your precious Daddy saddled me with.¡± Wow, if Erich were a more sensitive soul that might have hurt. ¡°He¡¯s your father too Olivia.¡± The blonde smirked. Gravity just scoffed, taking a hearty swig of her own drink. ¡°Besides,¡± Sarah continued, ¡°I think we both know that our dear old Erich is more than just an ¡®assignment¡¯. He was? ¡°We don¡¯t all want to play your stupid power games, Sarah¡± Gravity scowled over the rim of her glass. Power-what-now? ¡°So you say, but your actions say otherwise.¡± Sarah smiled, sliding around the table to lean up against a suddenly very still Erich. ¡°You¡¯re still sticking around long after your services are no longer required. Daddy¡¯s got a couple of our employees watching over our newest asset at all hours. He¡¯s assigned me as his new liaison. Do we really need the organization¡¯s second heaviest hitter watching over him as well?¡± Erich didn¡¯t miss the trace of bitterness in the blonde¡¯s voice when she mentioned Gravity¡¯s power. Was she jealous? Why? Lightning powers kicked ass. Still, he wasn¡¯t so distracted by the question, or the soft femininity pressed up against him, that he wasn¡¯t fingering his pistol under the table. Boss¡¯s daughter or not, if he felt the slightest spark touch his skin, she was getting a round through the kneecap. He figured he could explain it away as jitters if pressed on it. It was pretty much the truth anyway. ¡°Hard-Light¡¯s goons wouldn¡¯t last five seconds if anyone seriously tried to get at him.¡± Gravity said with a flippant wave of her hand. ¡°The Meta from the other night would have torn them to pieces without even breaking a sweat.¡± What a lovely image. Sarah shrugged, which did wonderful things to her d¨¦colletage ¨C which, now that he thought about it, was probably the point. ¡°Perhaps, but that¡¯s never mattered to you before. In fact, I can¡¯t recall you ever taking an active interest in the actions of the organization. Dear old Daddy usually has to twist your arm to get you to do the bare minimum.¡± Right it had been fun at first, but Erich was getting sick of all this double speak. Informative as it might have been. ¡°Alright I¡¯ve had enough of this shit.¡± He sighed, ¡°Sarah, you seem to think Gravity wants something from me? Well, I can tell you right now that¡¯s total bull- The door exploded. The noise was so shocking Erich nearly plugged one into Sarah out of sheer surprise. ¡°Down!¡± Gravity yelled, flipping over the table and dragging him behind it. Idly he noticed that Sarah was totally ignored by her sibling. Fortunately for her, she was no slower in diving behind their makeshift cover even without her sister¡¯s help. ¡°Again!?¡± Erich whined, as bullets sprayed through the windows, occasionally finding purchase in bar patrons who weren¡¯t quick enough to hit the deck. ¡°Apparently.¡± Sarah said, as she unholstered and primed her laser pistol with practiced ease. ¡°We¡¯re just that lucky, kid.¡± Gravity grinned from her position crouched next to him. If he were in different circumstances, he might have wondered at the chances of two shootouts involving him occurring within a week of each other, but at the time his primary concern was whether the table he was crouched behind was bulletproof. His gut instinct said no. Not even close. Well, at least he had a gun this time. Even if it was diddy little normal pistol it would still be more than enough to put a regular person down if it hit. After a few more seconds of heart stopping carnage the shooting finally stopped, and an eerie silence settled in, broken only by the sobbing of wounded and shocked bar patrons. Then something stomped into the entryway of the bar. That has to be the ugliest set of power armor I have ever seen, Erich thought as he risked a quick glance. Why the last time I saw something that shoddy- Oh¡­ Oh shit. ¡°Where¡¯s the fucker who stole my suit?¡± A familiar voice called out from within the metal monstrosity, ¡°The Crusher has returned to take back what is rightfully his!¡± Erich sank back behind the table with a heavy sigh. Of fucking course. He thought as he eyed his tiny peashooter. Chapter Six I am one with the table. The table is one with me. I am one with the table. The table is one with- A round winged through the table, narrowly missing Erich¡¯s head as he clutched his pistol. He promptly dropped even lower, doing his best to imitate a worm burrowing into the earth. ¡°You know, after our last little scuffle, I was kind of expecting something a bit more impressive.¡± Gravity drawled as she casually plinked away with her laser pistol. ¡°Are you going to get up and shoot any time soon?¡± Erich looked at her like she was stupid. ¡°Would it achieve anything other than me wasting ammo?¡± If her upgraded laser pistol wasn¡¯t getting through the Crusher¡¯s shields, his pistol didn¡¯t stand much of a chance. ¡°Might distract him from me for a few seconds.¡± She shrugged. Hard pass. He was hunkering down and letting the career criminals do the fighting. A decision that was only reinforced by the sight of Sarah diving to the side as a spray of machine gun fire pelted the pillar she had been hidden behind. Nope. Not a chance. He had a perfectly good justification to stay down and he was using it. The only possible reason he might have to get up and get involved were if- ¡°Oh look, he¡¯s brought a few of your old friends, Gravity.¡± Sarah snickered from her position on the floor, just as a new voice chimed in. ¡°Kill that nigger bitch!¡± Ah, The Crusher had brought the Brotherhood with him. Because of course the Neo-Nazis would hire a near worthless Artificer with an undisclosed addiction. Just so long as he was white it was all gravy. Unfortunately, he¡¯d just lost his only justification to stay of the fight, because the two skinheads ¨C a man and a woman ¨C definitely weren¡¯t wearing bullet resistant armor. They weren¡¯t wearing much at all if he were honest. Now he was going to have to start getting involved in this little shootout. Unless¡­ ¡°Sarah?¡± ¡°Yes, honey?¡± Sarah answered, somehow still managing to sound sensual while crawling across a rubble strewn floor in the middle of a firefight. Not that he really noticed. He had other concerns. Like avoiding said firefight. ¡°What color is the suit¡¯s shields?¡± ¡°What?¡± The woman asked incredulously as she exchanged fire with a skinhead who was trying to advance on her. ¡°The shields. When you shoot them what color do they flare? And what shape?¡± Erich repeated as Gravity¡¯s power lifted another thug into the air, prompting Erich to reluctantly aim a few shots in the man¡¯s direction. None hit, as he had half expected, and the thug fell back to the floor with a loud thud. Shot or not, that had to have taken the wind out of him though. ¡°It¡¯s blue,¡± Gravity growled, aiming a stink eye his way for blowing their opportunity to take one of their assailants out of the fight. ¡°And looks like a bubble.¡± Right. Shit. ¡°Cover me.¡± ¡°What?¡± Gravity started to say, before Erich burst from cover and sprinted for the bar with all the speed his two legs could give him. He would like to think it was sheer surprise at his sheer testicular fortitude that kept the two still upright gunners from shooting at him for the first meter of his dash, but after a millisecond of surprise, he felt the telltale whips of hot lead flying past him. A few milliseconds of surprise was all he had needed though. Throwing caution to the wind, he dived over the bar with all the grace of a beached whale, sending discarded drinks scattering to the floor with a crash as he did so. ¡°Hi.¡± He grunted with a tinge of hysteria to the bartender he¡¯d landed almost on top of. ¡°Could I get a drink? Something with a high alcohol content? Real tractor fuel stuff.¡± The woman looked at him like he was mad ¨C which, covered in discarded drinks and shattered bits of glass, he might well have been ¨C but after a moment¡¯s hesitation reached out to grab a nearby bottle of spirits. ¡°Thanks.¡± Erich said as he tore a chunk of fabric from his shirt and stuffed it into the neck of the bottle, flinching only slightly as bullets continued to thud into the bar they were hiding behind. Then he¡­ hesitated, a sinking feeling forming in his gut. ¡°You don¡¯t happen to have a lighter do you?¡± He asked, hoping desperately that he hadn¡¯t just risked his life for nothing. Fortunately for his continued sanity, she did. Hefting his impromptu Molotov in hand, he recalled where his target was relative to his new position. Then he lobbed it through the air, making sure to not let even a single hair on his head rise above the safety of the bar. There was a reason he had installed Hard Light panels onto his own suit rather than the typical ¡®bubble shield¡¯ most people favored; bubble shields only intercepted objects traveling above certain speeds, or energy exceeding certain levels. Of which a lazily lobbed Molotov cocktail possessed neither. He wasn¡¯t entirely sure he heard the impromptu incendiary device explode against the armored plates of the Crusher¡¯s suit. He knew he definitely didn¡¯t see it. He definitely heard the screaming that started immediately after though. ¡°Oh god.¡± He cursed, pulling his shirt up as an impromptu face mask. ¡°The smell.¡± He hated that smell so goddamn much. The rest of the firefight passed as he expected. A few more shots rang out, screams tapered off, and the sound of scampering feet could be heard, before the shop finally went silent. ¡°Erich honey, you still alive?¡± Sarah called out, sounding as exhausted as he felt. Still bizarrely seductive about it though. ¡°For a given definition of alive.¡± Erich answered as he clambered back up to his feet, brushing bits of glass and beer off him as he did. ¡°Well you did a pretty decent job of taking out the mook with the mech.¡± Gravity grinned, gesturing to the smoking remains of the Crusher¡¯s suit. He could see a few laser holes drilled into the suits carapace, which suggested that his Molotov wasn¡¯t quite enough to finish it off. It certainly provided an ample distraction though. He thought. Probably shorted out the shields too. Which was exactly what he had been hoping for. Even if he hadn¡¯t particularly wanted it.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Do I count that as me as killing him? He wondered, pondering over the shape his nightmares would be taking in the coming days. Does it matter? ¡°Do we need to run or something?¡± He asked, drawing himself from his melancholy thoughts. The cops hadn¡¯t shown up to his last shootout, but that had been at a secluded shop, deep in Hard-Light¡¯s territory. The area they were in now wasn¡¯t exactly affluent, but the residents could reasonably expect the cops to show up if they called them. As evidenced by the fact that most of the bar¡¯s patrons were still cowering on the floor, waiting for someone to come and save them. ¡°Probably a good idea.¡± Sarah answered, ¡°I¡¯ll call Daddy from the car. He probably already knows, but it never hurts to let him know myself.¡± Nodding, Erich started to turn towards the doors, only to freeze in place as the distinctive wail of cop cars echoed from outside. Looking to Gravity for advice on what to do, his heart sank as she scowled and dropped her gun on the floor. ¡°Shit.¡± He said, doing the same.
¡°So¡­ you have no idea why these individuals attacked the bar where you and compatriots ¨C who are suspected criminals ¨C were staying? You also don¡¯t know where the weapon we found on you came from? And finally, you claim you had nothing to do with the deaths that occurred, despite their being at least seven individuals who have testified otherwise?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± Erich nodded uncertainly, trying not to squint at the bright light blazing into his eyes. The detective in front of him sighed, slowly running a hand through her brown hair. ¡°You do realize, even if the courts rule that everything you did in that bar was an act of self-defense, you¡¯re still facing one count of illegal possession of a firearm? Which carries a mandatory minimum sentence of three to five years. And that¡¯s before we even get into the directed energy weapons your friends were carrying, or any involuntary manslaughter charges that might be levied.¡± The tired looking Latina woman looked him dead in the eye, ¡°Now for the last time, do you want to tell me what happened at that bar tonight?¡± ¡°¡­No?¡± A loud bang caught Erich off guard, making him flinch as the woman¡¯s partner slammed his hands into the table. ¡°Quit jerking us around you little shit!¡± The man roared, ¡°We know you were there with Diego William¡¯s daughters. Which means we know you¡¯re guilty of something. The only question is what, and how many years we get to slap you with. And that slimy son of a bitch isn¡¯t going to be there to help you.¡± Erich respectfully disagreed. There was a very good reason that Diego William¡¯s wasn¡¯t behind bars, even with all the criminal acts attributed to his name. As if to answer his thoughts, the door to the interrogation room opened, admitting a police officer in a fancy looking uniform. ¡°Please uncuff the witness, detectives. He¡¯s free to go.¡± ¡°What!?¡± The woman protested, ¡°But sir, we- ¡°That was an order detective.¡± The captain grunted sharply before stepping back outside. Erich struggled to keep the smirk off his face as one of the ashen faced police officers walked over to uncuff him. As he moved to stand up, the ¡®good cop¡¯ of the duo leaned over him. ¡°Don¡¯t think your friend Hard-Light¡¯s always gonna be there to save you. One day there¡¯s going to be a reckoning in this city. And you and all the rest of your gutter trash friends are going to be washed away.¡± Erich resisted the urge to laugh as he was lead outside. It was just so melodramatic. Idly, he wondered if his mother or sister had ever said anything similar. He could totally see it happening. Not that what the female detective said would ever come to pass. Once upon a time the power of the judicial system might have worked to put men like him away. Nowadays it had so many loopholes and corrupt officials working it, that it was little more than a whipped dog, quick to do the bidding of anyone with enough power or money to pressure it. Head held high, he was still feeling smug when he stepped out of the police station¡¯s double doors and onto the street. That sensation disappeared immediately when he saw Hard-Light was waiting for him on the sidewalk, a bevy of his goons around him, and a very nervous looking Gravity and Sarah beside him.
¡°Do you have any idea what your little escapades have cost me?¡± The man growled as he sat on the edge of his desk, looming over all three of them. ¡°The favors I had to call in?¡± Erich wisely kept his mouth shut, shifting on what had to be the world¡¯s most uncomfortable chair. ¡°Daddy, it¡¯s not our fault¡­¡± Sarah started to say, only to be cut off by a glare that could melt steel beams. Figuratively. Hard-Light was a pure Artificer as far as Erich was aware. ¡°Not your fault?¡± He repeated, ¡°Even though the lot of you were dumb enough to leave the shop - and the protection I posted around it - to go waltzing around the city? Did none of you think that just maybe the people who are after you might have seen an opportunity there?¡± Ah¡­ No. The thought that the Brotherhood would still be out to get him hadn¡¯t even crossed Erich¡¯s mind. In his head he had already partitioned the whole Brotherhood thing into a ¡®past event¡¯, with no bearing on his future. Glancing around, he could see similar thoughts were crossing Sarah¡¯s mind, but to his surprise, Gravity looked more defiant than confused. ¡°I didn¡¯t think they would risk it that close to the Hero Guild¡¯s branch headquarters.¡± She groused. That bitch! He thought. She knew it was a possibility and invited me anyway!? ¡°Didn¡¯t think they would risk it? In case you haven¡¯t noticed dear daughter of mine, they¡¯re gearing up for a war. My sources tell me they¡¯re scooping up every low life meta they can possibly get their hands on. A little thing like city limits aren¡¯t going to stop them.¡± Well, that explained how the dearly departed Crusher came into their employ. ¡°Whatever.¡± The man grunted, ¡°Get out of here. I don¡¯t want to see any of you until the assault tomorrow.¡± ¡°Assault?¡± Erich chimed in, almost instantly regretting it as one bloodshot eye rolled towards him. ¡°Yes. Assault.¡± The man said, ¡°The Brotherhood¡¯s been hitting us for weeks, so we have to hit them back or risk looking weak. One of my boys'' has found one of their warehouses. Probably used as a drug lab or some shit like that. We¡¯re going to go in there and kill everyone one of those Nazi fucks we can find.¡± Right. Of course. Supervillain stuff. ¡°And why do you need me there?¡± He asked sheepishly. ¡°I want the suit.¡± The man growled, ¡°This is our chance to finally show our guys and gals that we have a new heavy hitter in our lineup.¡± Erich was horrified, but to his immense relief, Sarah was the one to point out the obvious problem with that plan. ¡°It¡¯s not finished yet, Daddy.¡± Not entirely true. The shields were in, and the force blasters were working fine. There was still a minor issue with the HUD, but that was the work of an hour or two. Heck, it could probably be fixed using a hot patch from off the web. Not that Erich would ever lower himself to using one. ¡°I don¡¯t care. It¡¯s as ready as it needs to be.¡± The Artificer grunted. ¡°But Daddy, we don¡¯t have our pilot picked out yet.¡± She said, ¡°And even if we did, it will take us at least a week to calibrate the suit to them.¡± ¡°Is that so?¡± The man asked, not taking his eyes off Erich. Reluctantly, the young man nodded in assent. ¡°Well then. The solution is simple.¡± The man grinned. It was? ¡°Our lead mechanic can pilot the suit.¡± The supervillain laughed, ¡°I¡¯ve seen the video of him walking around in it, so I know the suit¡¯s already calibrated for him.¡± Gravity actually had the temerity to scowl in the man¡¯s presence, ¡°That¡¯s bullshit. It¡¯s a completely unnecessary risk of one of the organization¡¯s valuable resources. And Erich can¡¯t aim for shit.¡± The villain¡¯s energy blade hummed to life with a threatening thrum, cutting off all his daughter¡¯s protests instantly. ¡°He¡¯s going in the suit. I expect to see him, and it, at this house tomorrow evening so we can go over the plan.¡± He scowled, deadly quiet, ¡°Now everyone get the fuck out of my office.¡± The three of them couldn¡¯t get out of there fast enough. Only once they were well clear did Gravity choose to speak. ¡°Christ, I¡¯d rather go through another firefight than deal with the old man when he¡¯s like that.¡± Sarah looked like she wanted to complain, but she was just as pale and shaken as the rest of them. ¡°Daddy can be¡­ intense. He wasn¡¯t wrong though. The Brotherhood¡¯s running rampant, and the Red Squares are doing nothing to rein them in.¡± The blonde shrugged uneasily, ¡°We need to score a win, and Erich¡¯s suit will be our means of achieving it.¡± Erich was reasonably sure they would survive another week without his suit doing anything. They¡¯d survived this long, after all. Hard-Light wasn¡¯t having him pilot the suit because they needed it now. He was doing it because he was pissed and he wanted to take it out on someone. Which fit right in with being a supervillain, honestly. ¡°I¡­ I need to go run some diagnostics on the suit.¡± He said woodenly. The two sisters stopped glaring at each other, turning to him with an eerie synchronization. ¡°I¡¯ll help.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll come.¡± The two snapped back to each other, glares only redoubling. Erich watched on with mild exasperation before walking away. He had doubted it before, but now he was coming round to Sarah¡¯s way of thinking. Gravity did want something from him. She was just more subtle about it than Sarah. ¡°Going to be a long night.¡± He muttered. Chapter Seven Erich woke to pain. Which wasn¡¯t all that unusual. Muscle soreness. Hangovers. A fleeting sense of wrongness about the direction his life was taking. All were pretty typical sensations. No. What was unusual about this particular pain was that it came about as a result of an elbow that was firmly jammed into his kidneys. ¡°God no.¡± Erich muttered, staring at his slowly waking bedmate. ¡°God yes, lover,¡± Sarah murmured as she leisurely stretched. Not unlike a cat rising from a nap. ¡°We didn¡¯t sleep together.¡± He deadpanned, roughly shoving away the limb jammed into his side. ¡°Well, we slept together. But at no point did we bump uglies¡­ or get our uglies involved in any way.¡± ¡°You missed your calling in life, honey. You should have been a poet.¡± Sarah said, rising from the bed. Even though she was still fully clothed, her hair was a mess, and she had a streak of oil across her brow, Erich had to admit that she looked ravishing in the morning light. Or mid-afternoon light, he corrected after a quick glance at the clock. ¡°Care to join me in the shower?¡± She teased. He didn¡¯t dignify the question with a response, rising from the bed and striding from the room with almost indecent haste; ignoring the delicate chuckles that followed him out. He needed coffee. And a shower. One he could have now. The other would likely take a while. Time spent living with Gravity had taught him that much. He doubted Sarah would be any different. Striding into the kitchen, he could see Gravity sprawled out on the couch. Fully clothed and just as filthy as he and Sarah were, she was the picture of feminine grace as she snored loudly. Sighing, he set about making two cups of coffee. ¡°Wugh!?¡± The woman slurred, when a few minutes later, the warm beverage slammed down onto the coffee table next to her. ¡°Coffee. Drink.¡± Erich instructed as he slumped into his own chair. ¡°Last night¡¯s retrofits were good, but I want to make sure that everything is running perfectly before I¡¯m forced into that metal hulk.¡± It actually hurt him to say that, but his feelings were what they were. The knowledge that he was going to be the one riding the suit into battle had cooled his feelings towards it considerably. ¡°Really?¡± Gravity slurred blearily, reaching for the cup, ¡°And what makes you think I want to spend another moment in that cave of yours, after spending damn near all night there?¡± Erich quirked his eyebrow but said nothing. Even if he didn¡¯t know exactly what the young woman wanted from him, now that he knew Gravity wanted something, he could leverage it to his advantage. ¡°Fine.¡± The woman groused after a few moments of silence, ¡°But that bitch better not be there.¡± If Sarah was there, she was there. Erich doubted she would be though. As Hard-Light¡¯s right hand woman she would probably be back at the mansion organizing the ¡®troops¡¯ for the attack. Despite Gravity¡¯s apparent relative power, it had grown clear to him that she didn¡¯t have nearly as much responsibility within Hard-Light¡¯s organization. He figured there was a story there, but the only part of it that he cared about, was the fact that she would be free to help him with the suit. It was nearly half an hour later when Sarah finally emerged from his apartment¡¯s tiny bathroom. ¡°Tada, children,¡± She sing-songed, ¡°Your goddess is here!¡± ¡°Tch,¡± Gravity hissed, ¡°you couldn¡¯t just have showered back at the mansion?¡± Erich might have said something similar, but he found himself rather distracted by the sight before him; Sarah clad in just a towel, skin glowing and fresh out of the shower was something of a sight to behold. ¡°Please,¡± Sarah scoffed at her irritated sibling, ¡°Some of us actually care about our appearance. I couldn¡¯t go out in public looking like this.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t even have a change of clothes.¡± ¡°No, but you do.¡± Sarah pointed out. Gravity looked ready to explode, but the blonde simply smiled and pointed behind her ¡°Oh look, you better grab that shower before Erich gets to it first.¡± Erich had been planning to do exactly that, figuring the brewing argument between the two sisters would serve as a great distraction for him to sneak in next. That plan promptly went to hell as soon as Gravity glanced at him. ¡°You better not touch my clothes!¡± The woman called as she sprinted into the bathroom. Erich watched her go, hopes of getting clean anytime soon dashed before they even began. He sighed, directing a resigned glare in the blonde¡¯s direction. ¡°You¡¯re the worst.¡± The woman shrugged, a mischievous smile stealing over her features. ¡°I try.¡±
¡°No, listen you idiot.¡± Erich said, ¡°I don¡¯t care if you wear the armor. In fact, I firmly believe the genetic potential of humanity would experience a net increase if someone were to make your insides turn into outsides.¡± He sighed, ¡°But Hard-Light told me to check your kit, so put on the damn vest before I inform him that you care more about showing off your abs than following his instruction.¡± The thug across from him grabbed the vest, but couldn¡¯t resist a final a sneer as he swaggered back towards his little posse. ¡°And tell your gaggle of girlfriends to get their asses over here too.¡± Erich yelled, ¡°I can still see a bunch of them without vests.¡± For a second it looked like the band of angry young men were going to ignore him, but Sarah¡¯s soprano voice sailed clear across the garage, ¡°Do as he says people. We wouldn¡¯t want any of you suffering nasty accidents, right?¡± Despite the cheeriness in her voice, the threat was clear, and the reticent goons hurried over to him with almost unseemly haste. Idiots, Erich snorted. Even with Sarah¡¯s intervention, getting the rest of the gangbangers fitted out took longer than it rightfully should. The whole farce only served to reinforce just how much the fancy hard-light barriers implanted into the vests were wasted on them. At least as far as Erich was concerned. He didn¡¯t even want to think about the fact that his upgraded laser pistols were in the hands of these men and women. Not for the first time that evening, he found himself cursing Hard-Light¡¯s decision to appoint him ¡®head mechanic¡¯. ¡°Only mechanic would be more accurate,¡± He muttered under his breath as he adjusted the frequency on a radio earpiece, before handing it off to a garishly tattooed young woman. ¡°All right punks,¡± Hard-Light¡¯s voice bellowed out from over near a fleet of white vans, cutting through the noise with casual ease ¡°Get your asses over here so I can tell you the plan.¡± Erich stormed over, glad to be momentarily free of dealing with the masses. ¡°This is the warehouse we¡¯re looking at,¡± Hard-Light said, gesturing to a crudely drawn map, ¡°It¡¯s been built in the typical eighties fashion, so any of you who have been on dock runs know what to expect. Wide open space, one set of big doors, two or three small exterior doors, and a gangway leading to the foreman¡¯s office.¡± Around him Erich could see a few people nod in recognition, before Sarah stepped up, ¡°At first, we thought this was some kind of drug den, but some recent intel suggests they really are using it as a warehouse. Mostly for mechanical parts from what we¡¯ve observed, but that may just be cover for heavier artillery.¡±Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Hard-Light stepped forward again, a familiar gleam in his eye, ¡°Which changes things. This no longer a churn and burn operation. It¡¯s now a smash and grab. Kill everyone inside, and then pile everything that you can back into the vans before the feds show up.¡± Typical Artificer. Erich thought. Avarice, Hard-Light is thy name. Sarah nodded, ¡°Which means that the vans will be full, and thus won¡¯t be able to extract you afterward. So, if I were you, I would use these few minutes before the operation starts to plan out your escape route; because most of you are going to be getting home on foot.¡± A muted grumble passed through the room, but it was instantly silence by a glare from Hard-Light. "We going for ransoms?" A voice called out after a few awkward moments. ¡°No prisoners.¡± Sarah shook her head, a stony mask falling over her face. ¡°Brotherhood never pays, and it¡¯s too much of a pain in the ass to hold onto them.¡± Erich tried not to wince at the number of eager chuckles ran through the crowd. To his surprise, and relief, Sarah looked almost as uncomfortable as him; though she was clearly trying to hide it. After a few moments of restless shuffling, Erich willed himself to relax. What had he been expecting anyway? He knew what kind of people he was surrounding himself with when he signed up. Now if only my subconscious could learn to accept that. He thought glumly, trying to stifle the uncomfortable rumblings of his gut. ¡°What¡¯s happening with the suit?¡± A feminine voice called out, the crowd turning almost as one to regard where his beauty sat hunched over in the van that had brought it to the mansion. In the low light of the garage, it looked pretty impressive. The paint was chipped, and some parts still had flecks of rust attached, but overall it gave off the impression of a simple, powerful, machine. It was designed to break things and avoid being broken in return; every part of its design reflected that fact. Hard-Light stepped forward again, a malicious smile lighting up his features, ¡°Our newest associate will be piloting it.¡± Erich had to resist the urge to shuffle once more as all eyes fell on him. Instead he did his best to stand with his head held high. He knew that if he showed even a hint of weakness, a crowd like this would eat him alive. ¡°As the one who built it, he¡¯s got the most experience with it.¡± Hard-Light leaned in, as if to tell a secret, ¡°And considering he¡¯s already bagged two Meta¡¯s without the thing, I shudder to think what he might do with it.¡± Huh, I suppose I have, haven¡¯t I? How funny was that. ¡°Alright, you lot, start mounting up.¡± Hard-Light said, ¡°The Brotherhood¡¯s got a barrel of kickass headed their way, and we¡¯re gonna be the ones to deliver it.¡± Erich resisted the urge to sigh in relief as everyone started to walk away, ignoring attempts by people to draw him into conversation. There was nothing here he wanted to hear. He had a suit to clamber into. God help him. ¡°You doing ok?¡± Gravity asked, appearing out of nowhere. ¡°That a real question?¡± Erich responded, about to ask her where she¡¯d been all evening. She¡¯d all but disappeared the moment they arrived at the mansion. It was only as he turned to look at her that he found out why. ¡°Nice costume.¡± He snarked. Utterly unruffled, the woman grinned as she did a little pirouette. ¡°You think so?¡± Erich shrugged, ¡°The helmet looks decent enough. Might stop a bullet.¡± Which was more than he could say for the rest of her uniform. Though he had to admit that it did flatter her figure. The black and yellow did work very nicely with her chocolate colored skin. And the sleeveless nature of it did a lot to show off her nicely toned arms. Though he personally would have chosen something that might block bullets instead. ¡°What¡¯s with the cat ears?¡± He asked. She smiled, lifting it up next to her head, ¡°They¡¯re cute, and it¡¯s where the sensors are held.¡± That caught his interest. ¡°Sensors?¡± The villainess shrugged, ¡°Sensors. Comms. Batteries. The total package.¡± Hmmm, maybe she would let him a take a look at it later? Who knew, he might even be able to make some improvements? ¡°Focus.¡± Gravity jostled him. ¡°We¡¯re about to go into a fight. You can think about my helmet later.¡± Erich scowled, but had to admit that she had a point. Swallowing his rising dread, he clambered into the van, ignoring the groaning of its suspension as he did. Taking a steadying breath, he pressed the suit¡¯s ignition key against the scanner positioned just under the armpit; the chest piece opening with a hiss to expose the padded interior. Sparing a final glance backward at the rest of Hard-Light¡¯s crew clambering into their own vehicles, he sighed in resignation before climbing inside. Which, despite his best efforts, had never quite become comfortable after the total mess Crusher had made of the initial design. Parts jabbed into strange places. Some spots were oddly warm. Hell, he had a coolant line running right between his legs. Still, he couldn¡¯t deny the tiny tingle of excitement he could feel as the helmet closed back down around him. The shudder of electricity that ran up his spine as he felt the entire suit hum to life. The slight skip of his heart as synth-muscle stretched and strained as it started to warm up. There was nothing quite like it; the feeling of power and invincibility that came from wearing half a ton of high-tech power armor. ¡°Mechromancer Online.¡± Gravity¡¯s voice announced with entirely uncharacteristic solemnness. When did she even get time to record that!? He cursed as the video feeds booted to life. ¡°Gravity,¡± Erich hissed, ¡°Did you change my suit¡¯s audio prompts?¡± The woman didn¡¯t even try to hid her grin as she slid her helmet over her head. ¡°Do you like it?¡± She asked, as she slammed the van¡¯s rear doors closed and collapsed onto a bench. Yes. Yes, he did. A hell of a lot more than the computer-generated voice he had been using before. Would he ever admit that? No. ¡°The Mechromancer? Really?¡± He asked, latching onto the one thing he could think to complain about. Even with her helmet clasped over her face, Erich could see her excitement in the way her hands twitched. ¡°It¡¯s your Cape name!¡± She squealed gleefully, ¡°If you¡¯re going to be wearing that badass suit, you need a badass villain name.¡± Erich couldn¡¯t deny, it did sound pretty badass. Again, not that he would ever admit it. ¡°It¡¯s alright, I guess.¡± He attempted to shrug, only to wince as the suit held him firmly in place. ¡°Ha,¡± The woman pointed at him, ¡°That¡¯s ¡®Erich talk¡¯ for it¡¯s totally amazing, but I¡¯m too much of a weeny to admit it.¡± ¡°A weeny? really?¡± Erich sighed, ¡°What are you twelve?¡± The woman shrugged, sending a stab of envy through his shoulders, ¡°I calls them as I sees ¡®em.¡± Really? Suddenly the prospect of an assault on the Brotherhood¡¯s warehouse didn¡¯t seem so bad. For one thing, it would get him out of this van, and thus, out of this conversation. ¡°Don¡¯t let her take all the credit,¡± Sarah¡¯s voice chimed in over the radio, ¡°I helped.¡± Gravity scoffed, ¡°Please, you didn¡¯t even know what a necromancer was.¡± ¡°No, not until I looked it up.¡± Sarah replied, ¡°but I know enough about Erich to know he wouldn¡¯t have appreciated your other suggestions.¡± Despite himself Erich was curious. ¡°What other suggestions?¡± Sarah sounded totally gleeful, while Gravity¡¯s body language suddenly looked decidedly less so. ¡°I¡¯ll save you from having to hear the worst of them.¡± Sarah laughed, ¡°Let me tell you now though; the one she originally wanted to go with was ¡®The Red-ucer¡¯.¡± Erich all but shuddered, and even though he couldn¡¯t convey even a hint of body language through the suit, Gravity still managed to pick up on it. ¡°Hey!¡± She protested, ¡°It was a good name.¡± No. No, it wasn¡¯t. ¡°Why red though?¡± He couldn¡¯t help but ask. Reducer was self explanatory, if a bit odd. Red made not a lick of sense to him though. ¡°Well it¡¯s got red on it doesn¡¯t it?¡± Gravity pointed out. Yes. It did. If only on the bits that Erich still hadn¡¯t gotten around to scraping off yet. The Crusher might have wanted to ride around in a big red target sign, but Erich was content to pick something more subdued. And easier to camouflage. ¡°Thank you, Sarah.¡± Erich said over the open line, ignoring the look of betrayal from the woman in the van with him. ¡°You picked a great name.¡± ¡°Not a problem, sugar.¡± The blonde¡¯s smug voice came over the radio, ¡°I love nothing more than¡­¡± Her voice cut off for a moment. When she came back, she was utterly serious, ¡°Get ready, we¡¯re nearly there.¡± Erich swallowed nervously, as he nodded. The impromptu conversation on the way over had almost distracted him from the coming violence. Now that he had been reminded again, his guts were all but twisting themselves into knots. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine, Erich.¡± Gravity said with surprising softness, one hand pressing against the cool metal of his suit. ¡°You¡¯ve been in two fights already, and you came out just fine. Better than fine even.¡± Better than the other guys at least, he thought with grim humor, the reminder setting his heart a little more at ease. ¡°Thanks, Gravity.¡± He murmured quietly, trying to fight down the flush that threatened to overtake him completely. If the yellow clad woman heard any indication of it, it didn¡¯t show in her actions, as she gave him a quick thumbs up, before reaching out for the latch to the van¡¯s doors. ¡°Ready?¡± ¡°As I¡¯ll ever be.¡± He joked. Taking the weak attempt at humor for what it was, Gravity shoved the doors open, letting the cool night air spill into the muggy confines of the van. ¡°Let¡¯s go then.¡± ¡°Blasters Online. Barriers Online. Targeting System Online.¡± Gravity¡¯s computerized voice announced, each positive system announcement acting to calm Eric¡¯s troubled thoughts. ¡°Fuck it.¡± He whispered, clambering out after her. Chapter Eight The first shots were already being fired when Mechromancer¡¯s armored boots thumped down onto the concrete. "They had some guys on the doors,¡± A female voice chimed in on the radio, ¡°Mooks barely even knew what hit them.¡± "Good,¡± Hard-Light¡¯s voice chimed in, ¡°Sarah, Chavez, take some people to secure those side entrances. I don¡¯t want any of these fucks escaping.¡± From his vantage spot Erich could see where a group of goons were already searching through the pockets of the dead sentries, the telltale flickers of light barriers making them as allies. He was halfway toward them before his HUD to lit up with a new targeting solution from a nearby alley. With deliberate motions, he raised his arm, ¡°Aim assist on.¡± ¡°Acknowledged.¡± The suit intoned, Erich¡¯s arm turning rigid as the suit¡¯s pneumatics took over, artificially guiding his palm mounted blaster in the direction his right eye was looking. With a tiny squeeze of his fingers, he felt energy rocket through the limb as a bolt of force blasted out from his palm. The skinhead, bags of takeaway in the process of being discarded after hearing the gunshots, didn¡¯t even see it coming. Erich had to resist the urge to cringe as a wet crunch rang out. ¡°Nasty.¡± Gravity murmured, turning away from the stain that now liberally smeared the walls of the alley. ¡°Bit too much power,¡± He blanched, also turning away from the nauseating sight. It felt easier though. The taking of a life. His breath had barely twitched as he had pulled the trigger. Was he really getting used to living like this? Or was he just getting better at hiding the guilt? He didn¡¯t know. And to his surprise, he found he didn¡¯t care anymore. What was of greater concern to him was tracking ability of his suit! It had done so well. He hadn¡¯t had high hopes for it considering the base code had come from an omni-phone app. One that had the obnoxious ability to superimpose little cartoon hats on people¡¯s heads through the camera. A frivolous waste of technology. He couldn¡¯t help but wonder what the original creator of the abominable thing would think if they knew their little toy had been used to form the basis of his weapons system. He couldn¡¯t imagine they would be pleased. ¡°Aim assist off.¡± He said, the thought bringing a smile to his face. ¡°Acknowledged.¡± ¡°Nice cannon,¡± Hard-Light said, striding over, ¡°now get that oversized tin-can over here. The fucks locked the doors from the inside.¡± Erich knew the villain could easily force them open himself, but he also knew better than to suggest that. So instead, he stomped over to the front entrance, as quickly as the heavy footfalls of his suit would allow. As he expected, the thick metal of the warehouse¡¯s massive doors proved no impediment to his suit. Like a hot knife cutting through butter, he drove his fingers into the gap between the doors. The sound of shrieking metal was music to his ears. In fact, it was intoxicating. The sensation of power that accompanied it. Bullets started to ping off his barriers from inside as the gap widened, but he paid them no mind. Besides, as quickly as it started, the rain of fire started to diminish as return fire from his side forced the defenders to duck. ¡°Are you using me for cover?¡± He asked, after a quick glance at his rear camera. ¡°Your fat ass is big enough for it.¡± Gravity shrugged, ¡°and it¡¯s not like we have a lot of cover to work with out here.¡± Erich was just about to respond, when a loud ping drew his attention back to what he was doing. ¡°Barriers down to ninety percent.¡± ¡°Shit,¡± he muttered. The suit¡¯s tough, not invincible, idiot. He thought as sporadic gunfire continued to spark off his barriers. Are you trying to kill yourself? ¡°Flashing,¡± He announced over the comms, ¡°close your eyes and cover your ears.¡± After an agonizing second waiting to ensure everyone had heard him, he spoke up. ¡°Activate Flash¡± ¡°Acknowledged.¡± The oversized headlamps on the suit¡¯s head and chest lit up, just as the front mounted directional speakers let out a deafening shriek. The effect was not all that dissimilar from an oversized flashbang going off. The fire from his front cut off almost immediately. ¡°Advancing.¡± He called out, not caring if anyone heard, as he brought both arms up. ¡°Sixty percent power to blasters, wide sweep mode.¡± He muttered into the suit. He didn¡¯t wait for the acknowledgement before he started firing, aiming in the general direction of the nearest hit box. The wide angle of the firing mode dissipated some of the force of the shot, but it was more than sufficient to send a young man and woman sprawling across the floor, their cover flying with them. ¡±Barriers down to eighty percent. The voice intoned as sporadic gunfire started to pick away at him once more. Throwing accuracy to the wind, Erich fired at every target he could see, aiming for cover as much as people as he continued advancing forward, occasionally kicking crates, and people, aside as he moved forward. And as he had hoped, his allies from outside picked up on his plan, and started firing into the now completely exposed members of the Brotherhood. ¡°Focused mode, eighty percent power.¡± Erich instructed as he saw someone beginning to turn and run, attempting to disappear towards the crate filled rear of the warehouse. ¡°Acknowledged.¡± The man didn¡¯t get far, Erich¡¯s shot took him square in the back. With a lower power setting, the thug didn¡¯t quite explode, but there was a distinctly wet crack as the force of the shot sent him sliding across the floor. He didn¡¯t get up again, nor did he appear quite structurally sound anymore. Not that Erich really had time to dwell on it, as he turned to track the next- ¡°Enough, Erich!¡± He hesitated as Gravity¡¯s voice rang out over the comms. Just long enough to notice a very important fact. He had been about to shoot a friendly. Well, relatively friendly. The man in question didn¡¯t look very friendly after nearly being the victim of a friendly fire incident. These guys need uniforms. Looking around, he see could Hard-Light¡¯s goons moving up into the warehouse, stepping over the trail of destruction he had left on the way in. ¡°Still with us, Mechromancer?¡± Gravity asked. ¡°Y-yeah,¡± he coughed, belatedly realizing that he needed to breathe, ¡°It all happened so¡­¡± ¡°Fast?¡± She smiled. ¡°Yeah.¡± She gave him a commiserating look, one that was clear even through her helmet. ¡°Meta fights can be like that. Especially when the other side doesn¡¯t have one of their own. One side just has so much power over the other that they bulldoze right through them.¡± She gestured to the piles of shattered and thrown crates strewn across the entrance area. As she did, Erich found himself deliberately ignoring the dozen or so bodies, not knowing which ones he was directly responsible for and which he wasn¡¯t.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The guilt he had been so quick to write away as nothing before came back in full force. Especially when he saw that the flattened nature of one suggested he might have¡­ stepped on him. The thought made him feel ill, and he had to turn away. The last thing he wanted was to throw up in his suit. He was already going to have to hose down the feet. Hopefully he could avoid having to do the insides as well. ¡°If you hadn¡¯t been here then this would have been a decent spot for them to hunker down.¡± Gravity continued, ignorant of the morbid nature of his thoughts, ¡°Clear lines of sight. Large open space without cover for us to have to cross. Lots of ammo. They could have kept us at bay until either cops or reinforcements arrived.¡± ¡­Or Sarah and the other mook brought their people in through the side entrances. He supposed. Still, he got what she was saying. He and his suit had just walked through their carefully constructed defenses. Shrugging off small arms fire as it were nothing. Well, not nothing. He noted, glancing at his barrier read out. Seventy six percent. High, but still far too low for his liking. Sure, the suit could bounce most calibers of small arm off its armored parts, but the delicate joints could be damaged by even a pistol if it struck them at the wrong angle. And that didn¡¯t even take into account explosives, meta-abilities, or someone just plain setting him on fire. As the dearly departed Crusher discovered the hard way. He thought cynically, Far from invincible, indeed. ¡°Didn¡¯t see you use any of your abilities.¡± He noted, as he started to think about possible upgrades to the suit. ¡°My stuff¡¯s not good for big firefights like this. I¡¯m much better at totally locking down just one person,¡± She shrugged, ¡°but I have to have vision on them, and it¡¯s pretty obvious when my powers are working.¡± As she spoke her hands lit up green, as if to emphasize her point, ¡°Anyone could plug a bullet in me while I¡¯m standing there like a moron.¡± That made sense. Now that he thought about it, it had also been the case in their other fights as well. At the time he hadn¡¯t thought much of it, focused as he was on not being murdered, but afterward he had wondered. Never quite got around to asking about it though. ¡°Even then, I can only use my ability so many times before I exhaust myself. To be honest it¡¯s a pretty crap power.¡± She said, starting to trail off, and if Erich weren¡¯t in the suit, he might not have picked up what she said next. ¡°Still better than Sarah¡¯s though.¡± She smirked. What was the deal with Sarah¡¯s power? Because now that he thought about it, she hadn¡¯t used it in the firefight at the bar either. Was everyone¡¯s ability secretly crappy or something? ¡°Quit standing around you morons. We¡¯ve got to get all this crap loaded up and shipped out.¡± Hard-Light growled as he strode inside, gesturing to the many machine components had been scattered about the place during Mechromancer¡¯s mad dash. The goons were quick to move under their boss¡¯s supervision, one rushing over to grab a forklift. ¡°*Mechromancer,¡± the villain called, making him wonder when the guy had learned his new Cape name, ¡°Good work breaking through. Saved me having to make the effort, and let me know I didn¡¯t waste my money after all.¡± Erich resisted the indignant response that welled up in him at the idea that he was worth even a cent less than the man had paid. ¡°Thank you, sir.¡± He said through gritted teeth, glad his speakers served to slightly warp his voice. ¡°Boss.¡± The man corrected. ¡°You¡¯re part of my crew now, that means you call me boss.¡± As if calling the man ¡®Sir¡¯ wasn¡¯t torture enough? ¡°Thank you, boss.¡± ¡°Good,¡± the older man nodded, ¡°Now start loading those boxes into the vans. That big ass suit will probably be quicker than the forklift.¡± That really tested Erich¡¯s ability to restrain his tongue. Use his suit to perform menial labor? Why not just take a dump in the central processor while you were at it? ¡°Will do, boss.¡± He managed to grind out.
He was on his third box when Sarah and her team showed up. ¡°Hello, Daddy!¡± The blonde woman smiled. ¡°You guys stole all the fun. No one even tried to escape from our side.¡± The villain barely looked up from his inspection of a nearby crate, his voice slightly slurred, ¡°Must have all tried to get out from Chavez¡¯s side then. Probably why she¡¯s not here yet.¡± ¡°She isn¡¯t?¡± The bubbly blonde asked. ¡°Have you tried calling her on the radio?¡± No. The man had become less and less coherent over the last few minutes. A side effect of his ability and his brain trying to find uses for the mounds of parts they were extracting from the warehouse. To be honest, Erich was impressed the man had even managed to answer his daughter¡¯s first question. Which Sarah was quick to pick up on. Sighing, she reached for her earpiece, ¡°Chavez? What¡¯s taking you so long. We need your guys to get over here and start helping load up the vans. Especially if we want to get out of here before anyone else shows up.¡± It was strange to him, the way she could flip back and forth between sultry, bubbly and commanding. Bubbly annoyed him. Sultry¡­ discomforted him. Commanding though? Commanding he could respect. ¡°Chavez?¡± Sarah repeated after not receiving a response. Cursing, she turned to one of the nearby goons. ¡°Francis, get over there and tell that jackoff to turn her radio on.¡± The resigned way the woman said it suggested that this wasn¡¯t the first time the woman in question had forgotten to do so. Which makes me wonder why she was selected to lead a team in the first place? It was moments like this that reminded him how little he really knew about Hard-Light¡¯s organization. His only real point of contact with it was Sarah and Gravity, and neither sister was prone to talking about the gang. He really had to stop thinking of them all as just, ¡®goons¡¯. He had been able to get away with it before because he assumed it been a temporary acquaintance. Now it was liable to get him shot in the back one day. It was nearly three minutes later when an ashen faced Francis jogged back toward the group. Why the idiot hadn¡¯t thought to use his radio, Erich had not a clue. ¡°We¡¯ve got a problem.¡± The man stammered, toward Hard-Light before realizing the man was off in his own little world, and switching back toward Sarah, ¡°I¡­ I¡­ you¡¯re going to want to see this for yourself, ma¡¯am.¡± Sarah leveled a speculative eye at the young man, before quickly taking charge. ¡°Mechromancer, Grey and Smith, come with me.¡± The blonde instructed, ¡°Gravity, keep an eye on dad, and send him my way when he snaps out his episode. The rest of you, keep piling stuff into the vans. I want them fully loaded by the time I get back.¡± The assorted mooks didn¡¯t look happy, but nodded nonetheless as two of their number peeled off to join us. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go see what all the fuss is about.¡± Sarah said, electrical sparks flying from her hands. ¡°This better be worth my time, Francis.¡±
¡°We didn¡¯t hear any shooting.¡± Smith said. ¡°Probably happened when the firefight at the front started.¡± Grey responded, the heavily tattooed young woman cautiously stepping over one of the bodies, ¡°Clever fuck must have timed it just right.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± Sarah muttered. Erich had no idea how the three of them were so calm about this. He felt like he was about to soil his suit. Hell, even Francis had the good sense to be terrified. The young man was practically shaking in his boots as he clutched his gun and surveyed the carnage. The cooling corpses of Chavez¡¯s team were strewn all over the empty street just outside the warehouse¡¯s side door, and the woman herself had been hung from a street lamp by high-tension cable. The others hadn¡¯t fared any better; they¡¯d been impaled by throwing discs, sliced open at the throat, had their necks snapped, chests caved in¡­ The list went on. Whoever did this had been good. Very good. Even to Erich¡¯s amateur ¨C and slightly nauseated - eyes, he could see that they¡¯d been picked off one by one. For one thing, the bodies were all facing in different directions. For the other, all the bullet holes were spread out all over the alley. Well, not at the doorway, but there was an obvious reason for that. The Brotherhood gang members had clearly attempted to escape and been mercilessly gunned down right at the precipice of freedom. The bullet hole spacing there was tight and controlled, not wild and arbitrary like it was everywhere else. ¡°Whoever did this, did it after Chavez took out the Brotherhood members who tried to escape.¡± Sarah said, gesturing to the pile of skinhead corpses. Which meant that they should have heard gunfire, Erich surmised. After all, the Brotherhood wouldn¡¯t have started to run until it was clear the battle was lost. Fanatics were stubborn like that. The gunfire at the front would have wound down by the time the massacre here started. ¡°Why did none of them radio for help?¡± Grey asked the next most obvious question. ¡°A localized jammer?¡± Erich put forward, determinedly dragging his eyes away from a corpse that had been pinned to a brick wall - with a throwing knife. It didn¡¯t help that his targeting computer kept trying to highlight the man¡¯s face. Sarah looked skeptical, ¡°That didn¡¯t affect our radio, all of a hundred meters away?¡± Erich would have shrugged if he could, ¡°A very localized jammer.¡± Sarah shook her head, ¡°No, I¡¯m thinking that this was a meta ability. Something that canceled sound. It would explain why we didn¡¯t hear gunfire, and none of them radioed for help. Would have made picking them off one by one easier too.¡± ¡°That would make sense,¡± Grey put in, ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter if the radio works if there¡¯s no sound to transmit.¡± Erich was still partial to his jammer idea, but he would freely admit that it was because he tended to frame everything through the eyes of technology. Logically, Sarah would be the same, but in reverse. Grey was obviously biased towards the boss¡¯s daughter, so her opinion counted for nothing. ¡°Daddy¡¯s not going to be happy about this.¡± Sarah murmured as she fingered her gun. The fact that eight of his guys got wiped out by one or more metas, completely silently, from all of a hundred feet away? Yeah, Erich couldn¡¯t imagine the guy taking that with solemn dign- ¡°Erich, you can tell him.¡± Fuck. Chapter Nine As Erich emerged from the suit, he felt less like a man emerging triumphant from battle, and more like a creature being spawned from the belly of some great metal beast: sweaty, tired and more than a little uncomfortable. ¡°You need a little help there, uh, Mechromancer?¡± The way the driver¡¯s voice hitched at the end was very telling of his lack of surety on Erich¡¯s new moniker. Erich didn¡¯t care. He just wanted the man gone. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡± He murmured, as he clambered back up to his feet. ¡°Get the van out of here so I can shut the roller doors. The last thing I need is for someone in this neighborhood seeing that I¡¯ve got a super-suit in here.¡± He knew he should have been more polite, especially after his recent revelation at the warehouse, but the battle, and discovering the slaughter of Chavez¡¯s team, had drained him entirely of the ability to care. The driver, shrugged and hopped back into the van, before reversing back out. Erich watched him go, before limping over to the controls to let the roller doors slide slowly back down again, hitting the concrete floor with a clang. Again, the garage was covered in darkness, and Erich was alone once more. Gravity had to do something back at the mansion, and Sarah obviously had to take charge of the ¡®troops¡¯. So, for the first time in a long time, the shop was empty but for himself and his tools. He didn¡¯t know whether he liked that or not. Aggravating as they were, the sisters had grown on him. Not unlike a rash. ¡°Shower or hose?¡± He wondered as he gripped the damp fabric of his shirt. Blood was no good for the suit, and the feet were liberally coated in it, but on the other hand, he really wanted a shower. The suit¡¯s cooling system was good, but it wasn¡¯t so good that the thing didn¡¯t feel like an oven after an hour or two of operation. ¡°Need to move that coolant line as well.¡± He grumbled into the darkness. Putting it right between his legs had not been the smartest design decision. The sensation of liquid nitrogen surging through a pipe right next to his perineum had served as a reminder of that fact, each and every time it happened. Honestly, he would be impressed if he could even still have kids after that test run. Still, despite its problems, the suit had performed¡­ adequately. He should have felt some elation over that fact, or the fresh batch of cash now sitting in his bank account, but instead he just felt tired. The sensation of bones snapping under his feet kept coming back to him. In the end though, it was his obsessive need to keep things properly maintained that finally won out. So, stripped down to his boxers - and armed with a bucket and a sponge - he sat in the dim light of the shop cleaning bits of blood and viscera off the suit¡¯s feet. It was vile and tedious work, but he had learned to expect as much. If she was there, Gravity could have simply levitated the stuff off, but he had to do it the hard way. That was what his entire life boiled down to in the end; vile and tedious work to achieve the same that results others might attain with arbitrarily assigned gifts. That was why he could out-build and out-think them. He wasn¡¯t afraid to get his hands dirty, and really go the extra mile. He would never half-ass anything. He wasn¡¯t like those metas with their underserved powers! He¡¯d become mighty with his own two hands! He¡¯d- He dunked his sponge into the now filthy red water of his bucket, turning his mind away from the rant threatening to build up inside him. Anger would achieve nothing. He couldn¡¯t indulge it. Besides, what had he achieved really? Built a suit and killed a few gangbangers? If his sister put her mind to it, she could wipe out a small army in a morning. He needed more. He needed to go bigger. He needed- Fresh water He thought, glancing at the blood and detritus clouding his once clean bucket.
¡°Problem, lover?¡± A feminine voice asked as he tramped into the kitchen, bucket in hand. ¡°S-Sarah?¡± Erich gulped, suddenly very conscious of the fact that he was wearing little more than a pair of boxers - and whatever blood happened to spill on him. If the woman in question was put off by his attire, or lack thereof, it didn¡¯t show in her face as she lounged on the counter top. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± He hissed, heart thudding in his chest as he dumped the empty bucket into the sink. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be, I don¡¯t know, organizing?¡± The woman shrugged, ¡°Daddy snapped out of his little trance on the way back home. He wasn¡¯t best pleased about what went down with Chavez, but he was more concerned with checking out our haul. He¡¯s organizing things back at the mansion right now.¡± Erich nodded, not entirely sure as to why that translated to her showing up at his shop. ¡°Don¡¯t be so cold, honey.¡± The woman drawled when she she saw his expression, ¡°I told you, I¡¯m going to be your liaison for the organization going forward. That means we¡¯ll be spending a lot more time together.¡± ¡°Where¡¯s Gravity?¡± Erich asked, very conscious of the fact that in addition to being close to naked, he wasn¡¯t armed. He was reasonably sure that he and Sarah had buried the hatchet, but ¡®reasonably sure¡¯ was not a great deal of comfort when stuck in a confined space with an incredibly dangerous criminal. Nor would he put it past her to have him think that, right before she stuck the blade in. The first signs of irritation appeared on the blonde¡¯s face, but they were quickly smoothed away. ¡°Called away on a little errand. Some pissant little shop has been holding out on us. She got sent to reeducate them.¡± The meta-human waved a hand airily, ¡°But enough about her. I¡¯m here to celebrate our new relationship!¡± As she spoke she raised a hand, revealing¡­ a blank DVD case. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± He asked warily, scrubbing his hands meticulously clean with the aid of some alcoholic hand rub. A distinctly feline grin took over the woman¡¯s face, ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know? Just a fresh batch of Death Dome videos, straight from the West Coast. With commentary by the Face himself.¡± That.. that was incredibly illegal. Not just the contents of the DVD itself, but the fact that it had come from the West Coast. Even thirty years after the Master¡¯s defeat, the US government and the Guild had yet to reclaim the area. Nowadays, it was little more than a lawless warzone for constantly changing warlords. Then Erich remembered that he was in the process of washing someone¡¯s lifeblood from his hands, and a little smuggled contraband didn¡¯t seem quite so world changing. ¡°And you want to¡­ watch it? With me?¡± He asked uncertainly. The blonde rolled her eyes, ¡°God, you can be such a dweeb. Yes. Yes, I want to watch it with you.¡± She smiled, ¡°I figured it would be something to bond over.¡± Erich wasn¡¯t too sure why she thought he would want to bond over the shared viewing of a murderous, highly illegal, meta-human blood-sport - especially after having just finished his own version of the subject - but he was at least socially savvy enough to know that refusing would be awkward, and potentially painful. For me.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. At least he had gotten the suit more or less clean before she showed up. Or had she been waiting for that to happen. He wouldn¡¯t put it past her. ¡°I¡¯ll go shower and grab a change of clothes.¡± He said hesitantly. ¡°Don¡¯t take too long.¡± Sarah grinned as she slid off the counter top, ¡°The fight earlier really got my motor going and I would hate to have to finish without you.¡± Erich hoped she wasn¡¯t implying what he thought she was implying, but he knew in his heart of hearts she was. He grimaced, Because of course, violence would have to be a turn on for her¡­ Not a succubus my ass. He never thought he would say it, but he actually missed Gravity. If only because her acts of exhibitionism could occasionally be fun for him, when he wasn¡¯t trying to focus on something. He sincerely doubted Sarah¡¯s apparent sadism would come with the same benefits.
¡°Do you think anyone would find this odd?¡± Sarah asked, in a brief lull between bouts of spine-chilling gladiatorial violence. Two supervillains sitting ¨C and yes, he had accepted that recent events had firmly labeled him one - on a couch watching what was essentially a snuff film in the middle of the night? Right after pulling off a dangerous and draining assault on their competitors. ¡°A little.¡± He said. ¡°But what does it matter. I couldn¡¯t sleep if I wanted to, and you have your ¡®condition¡¯ to think of.¡± Said condition being the reason that she kept shifting in a manner that clearly wasn¡¯t discomfort. Or at least, the conventional meaning of the word. Nor did Erich miss the way the attractive blonde¡¯s hands roamed to and fro over herself as the night wore on, only stopping when she noticed what she was doing. He had been wrong. Sarah¡¯s own kinks were just as entertaining as Gravity¡¯s in their own special way. At least more-so than what was happening on screen, which was honestly more than a little grotesque to his sensibilities. Although, he couldn¡¯t help but note that there hadn¡¯t been all that many deaths. The matches were incredibly dangerous, yes, but most ended when one side took a wound that kept them from continuing. It seemed to be considered poor form for a gladiator to kill their opponent outright. ¡°You mean the fact that all this violence is getting me off?¡± The blonde said ruefully, one hand deliberately reaching up to unhook another button from her top, giving a tantalizing glimpse even deeper into her already plunging neck line. Erich shrugged, ¡°It is what it is.¡± He wasn¡¯t about to judge. He wasn¡¯t exactly a picture of great mental health either. He certainly had his own hang-ups. Budding alcoholism least among them. And at least Sarah was on the right career path to indulge her hang ups. Although he still found it a little discomforting how the woman¡¯s breath hitched every time one of the combatants on screen took damage. She had practically moaned when one poor cyborg woman lost a limb. ¡°You really mean that, don¡¯t you?¡± Sarah asked, a strange expression falling over her face, ¡°You really don¡¯t care.¡± He wouldn¡¯t say he didn¡¯t care. He had his own preferences, he just didn¡¯t give them that much weight. He did what he had to do to get by. ¡°I think I see what Olivia likes about you.¡± That he didn¡¯t care? That he was indifferent? What a strange reason to like someone. He would have thought there were a few people in Hard-Light¡¯s crew who had similar dispositions. ¡°Unfortunately for her, I like you for an entirely different reason, and I¡¯m not afraid to push to get my way.¡± Erich was about to ask what the hell she was talking about, when a soft pair of lips settled on his own. ¡°I didn¡¯t see it, but I heard it. The way you tore those Nazi fucks apart.¡± She whispered, into his ear, feminine form pressing into him. ¡°It was so hot.¡± Erich tried to push her off, in surprise if nothing else, but she held fast. ¡°Given the right tools and motivation, I think you could be even stronger than Daddy.¡± She groaned, hands roaming under his shirt. Erich flushed, entirely incapable of refusing, and far from sure that he wanted to. Why should he? He had refused similar advances before, because he had other priorities, but right now- ¡°We would be a great team, you and I.¡± The woman grinned, as she started to unhook his belt. ¡°The things I could do if I had you on my side, Mechromancer.¡± It was hard to think with an attractive woman crawling all over him, whispering into his ear, teasing him with her caresses. Wasn¡¯t he afraid of her? She was dangerous. Manipulative- A heavy groan slipped out of him as he felt something warm, wet and tight settle over his hardness. ¡°Ooh, that¡¯s just what I needed.¡± Sarah moaned, pressing his head into her cleavage, surrounding him with her softness. ¡°I¡¯ve been practically dripping all evening.¡± Erich could tell. Likewise, he could feel the hardness of her nipples pressing though his and her shirt, as she started to grind against him. And despite himself, he started to thrust up into her. Their was no grace or skill involved in their joining, just fevered passion and need. Gravity had been right, it had been far too long since he¡¯d been with anyone. Sarah¡¯s fevered touch was just too much for him to resist any longer. Both of them were still practically fully clothed. Sarah had removed the bare minimum required to attain what she wanted. Erich wanted more though. Tearing at her shirt, he felt satisfaction as the buttons pinged away, unveiling Sarah¡¯s firm upturned breasts to his hungry eyes. To his mild surprise, one had a thin metal ring running through it, the metal shining in the low light of his living room. His surprise didn¡¯t last long, and she let out a coo of pleasure as his lips seized around the un-studded nipple, hands coming up to pull him closer to her as she writhed atop him. ¡°That''s it.¡± She moaned. ¡°Bite it. Make me feel it.¡± He obliged, and she let out a shriek of pain, or pleasure. Likely both. They seemed to be one and the same to the woman. ¡°Punish me.¡± She groaned. ¡°Call me a slut!¡± He really didn¡¯t want to. He never was much for dirty talk. Or much talking at all during sex, really. So, he bypassed the problem entirely, seizing her by her blond locks and dragging her head to his. Sarah moaned in surprise as his lips locked with hers, but soon her tongue was darting back and forth against his in a silent duel for dominance. ¡­Of which Erich was losing. Decidedly. Predictably, it all proved to be too much for him. It had been too long since he¡¯d last had ¡®release¡¯ and the sensation of Sarah¡¯s heated tightness gripping him was mind-blowing. He erupted, groaning into their lip lock as he fired his seed straight into the super-villainess atop him. It felt like his entire soul was going with it, being sucked up by the she-banshee who writhed and moaned in his caress. In the end he was left sweaty and panting, his fresh clothes utterly soaked, and a small puddle forming on the couch between his legs from their messy union. ¡°I wasn¡¯t quite finished, yet.¡± Sarah teased as she stood up, careless of the mess running down her inner thigh. ¡°Sorry.¡± Erich gasped, still trying to get his head around what had just happened. ¡°No matter.¡± Sarah smiled, ¡°You¡¯ll have plenty of chances to try again before the night is through.¡± With that, she grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him out of his chair, nearly causing him to stumble as he rapidly shucked off his pants around his ankles. ¡°Let¡¯s go break in that bed of yours.¡± Erich, still mildly dazed, tactfully didn¡¯t point at that her sister had already broken in his bed, and instead allowed himself to be dragged from the room. This is a terrible idea. ¡°Right,¡± He muttered, eyes drawn to the sensual sway of the blonde woman¡¯s hips. ¡°I¡¯ll get right on that.¡± ¡°You better.¡± Sarah said with a commanding lilt to her tone.
¡°You slept with her.¡± Gravity deadpanned from across the kitchen counter. He nodded sheepishly, one hand idly running up to trace a scratch running all the way down his back. One of many. Sarah, predictably, was something of a scratcher. And a biter. And a shocker. ¡­Mostly a shocker. Gravity had shown up that morning, just as the blonde had left. ¡°You know she¡¯s manipulating you right?¡± The woman pointed out as she took a sip of her coffee. Again, Erich nodded, ignoring the stab of pain that ran up his neck from the action. ¡°She mentioned something about me growing in power and being able to help her.¡± ¡°Always with the power-plays.¡± She sighed and leaned back in her chair, ¡°She was probably impressed by your suit¡¯s showing last night. Wasn¡¯t too sure if you were blowing hot air or not. And clearly you weren¡¯t, so she made her move.¡± ¡°Is my support really that much of an advantage?¡± Gravity snorted in disgust, ¡°This is the problem with being a shut-in Erich. You know sweet fuck all about what¡¯s going on beyond your shop or that suit.¡± The rebuke stung, but he couldn¡¯t deny it was true. He couldn¡¯t help it though. He just wanted to build things. Not worry about criminal power dynamics. ¡°Listen, North Granton has three big factions in it. Of those, the Brotherhood and Red Squares are just branches of larger organizations spread out across the country. Hard-Light¡¯s gang is the only one that exists in just this city, and that¡¯s because our ¡®gang¡¯ is basically just him. Because that¡¯s all the other two are afraid of: Him, and him alone.¡± Erich knew that much. Gravity hissed with annoyance that he wasn¡¯t getting it. ¡°So, what does that mean for you? If Sarah thinks you¡¯ve got the potential to be stronger than Hard-Light?¡± Wha¡­I couldn¡¯t¡­. Could I? With the right tools? Some time? Some very expensive parts¡­ Maybe¡­ Probably¡­ Definitely. ¡°She wants me to take over from Hard-Light?¡± He hedged uncertainly. ¡°What?¡± Gravity¡¯s face was incredulous, ¡°No! She wants to expand the gang. Push out the Squares and Brotherhood - and probably me while she¡¯s at. Cement herself as Hard-Light¡¯s heir and our gang as number one in the city.¡± ¡­Oh. ¡°Which this brewing fight with the Brotherhood is a perfect starting point for, right?¡± Gravity nodded, her lips a thin line. Shit. Chapter Ten Stepping out into the basement, Grey beside her, Sarah noted the familiar scent of blood was in the air. Once upon a time that might have repulsed her, but years living with her father had removed that weakness. Instead she felt emboldened. More alive. There was no fancy interrogation room in the mansion. Just a surprisingly new and well-maintained pipe, tucked away in a shadowy corner of a repurposed wine cellar. And a nearby drain. Their prisoner for the day was an older man, abducted from his home in the middle of the day by a few of her trusted underlings. Not particularly high up in the Brotherhood¡¯s food chain ¨C they were tightly guarded, and usually Metas to match ¨C but the aged tattoos littering his skin suggested he was a veteran member of the organization. As she got closer, she noted the livid bruises running along his face and she had to resist the urge to tut. She had explicitly instructed her people not to inform her father of the man¡¯s presence on the estate, but one of them must have blabbed. Later she would have to find out who, and ¡®educate¡¯ them on where their true loyalties should lie. After all, loyalty to her was loyalty to her father. Just a better directed form of loyalty. Still, the Neo-Nazi was still alive and mostly intact, so all was not lost. She would just have to ensure that he stayed that way long enough for her purposes to be served. The prisoner¡¯s face was filled with a look of loathing she was all too familiar with, his pride unbroken by the bike-lock that held him firmly against the pipe. ¡°Has he said anything?¡± She asked Francis, the nervous looking young man looking like he wanted to be anywhere else. Which was exactly why he was down here. Boy needed to toughen up if he was going to be of any use at all to her going forward. Her little faction had no room for weakness. ¡°No Ma¡¯am.¡± The boy shook his head, ¡°not after¡­ the boss, got finished with him at least.¡± Good. "Good afternoon, Mr. Green.¡± Sarah spoke calmly as she directed her gaze to the glaring man, "I¡¯m terribly sorry that we had to meet this way, but I am afraid that my father and I have a few questions. Questions we would like you to answer.¡± "Fuck you, and your nigger loving father, you treacherous whore, I ain¡¯t telling you shit.¡± The man tried to spit, but it seemed fear had quite dried his throat. It came off as rather pathetic really. Quite understandable though. Unlike in the movies it¡¯s quite difficult to come off convincingly rebellious when faced with the possibility of torture. Not even Integrity¡¯s fanatics were immune to that. It wasn¡¯t so much a matter of bravery as sanity, after all. She doubted she would do much better were she in his shoes. Still, she didn¡¯t plan to torture him. She had observed her father use it enough times, and more often than not, the information derived was entirely unreliable. She had her own methods of discovering what she wanted to know. ¡°Grey, please bring down our other guests. Francis, please help Grey, and then take the rest of the day off.¡± Better to get him out of here. Toughening the boy up was one thing, but she didn¡¯t want to go too far and break him. His na?ve little crush would only bend him to her will so far. If she pushed too hard she could end up facing the exact opposite response from what she wanted. She¡¯d done that quite often in the early days. When she was still learning. Naturally, Francis was almost pathetically grateful to leave, taking the elevator up with a taciturn Grey. Which left Sarah a few minutes to herself. Completely dismissing the glaring prisoner from her thoughts, she went over to sit on a barrel of hideously expensive wine - a holdover from the days of the estate¡¯s former owner. Flipping open her phone, she smiled when she saw that Erich hadn¡¯t even attempted to call her after her rapid departure that morning. No doubt the young man was working himself into a tizzy, and burying himself in his work trying to distract himself from the possible implications, and consequences, that might arise as a result of what they had done last night. He was adorably predictable like that. Predictable, easily controlled, morally malleable, great potential for growth, and without any real aspirations of his own. Not awful in bed. Just a few pointers about what I like and he might be great. The perfect partner really. If she didn¡¯t know any better, she might have thought her powers were more in line with a Machina when he all but fell into her lap. Or rather, her into his. Now if only her cow of a sister would get out of her way, everything would be going perfectly. Not for the first time she considered having her half-sibling suffer an ¡®accident¡¯, before dismissing it. Too suspicious. Not so soon after Death-Shriek. She was just finishing a ¡®cutesy¡¯ message to her newest ¡®boyfriend¡¯ when Grey reappeared from the elevator, dragging two struggling sacks with her. ¡°Little help?¡± The woman said, ¡°That pretty boy Francis fucked right off after I got them into the elevator. Little pussy.¡± Sarah rolled her eyes but obligingly grabbed one and dragged it over in front of their prisoner ¨C though, not without shocking one painfully into submission first. ¡°Sorry for the wait, Mr. Green.¡± Sarah said as she looked turned back to her prisoner, who¡¯s face was turning rapidly pale as realization started to dawn in his eyes. ¡°Just had to get your wife and brother over here before we continued.¡± As she spoke, she reached down to unzip the bags, revealing the gagged and tearstained faces of the man¡¯s loved ones. Even bad men had loved ones. Maybe not as many as most, but some. No one was an island. Everyone needed some connection. And connections can be weaknesses. And weaknesses can be leveraged. ¡°Now, let¡¯s try this again.¡± She said, trying to keep the visceral excitement from her voice as her lips pulled back into a lustful smile. ¡°Tell me everything.¡±
Sarah slowly started to adjust her outfit as the elevator ascended back up to ground level; her cleavage was tucked away, her hair pulled up and the ever-present sultry smile was smoothed away into something colder. More commanding. ¡°One of the bags is leaking.¡± She pointed out, stepping away from the slowly pooling puddle of blood. Out the corner of her eye she saw Grey roll her eyes, but she dutifully reached over to firmly zip up the bag in question. ¡°You¡¯re just going to see your dad.¡± Grey scoffed, dragging all three bags over toward herself.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Sarah had to resist the urge to roll her eyes in turn. It was moments like this that she had to remind herself that Grey was her second because of her dogged loyalty and talent with a gun, not her social skills or intelligence. ¡°Every action or inaction might sway Daddy¡¯s choice in choosing his heir. Appearances count.¡± Grey scoffed again, ¡°Death-Shriek¡¯s gone, none of your other siblings have developed powers, and Gravity¡¯s Gravity.¡± Yes, and Sarah thanked her luck for that small mercy every day. Because if her half-sibling ever showed even the ¡®slightest¡¯ inclination toward leadership of the gang, Sarah knew that all her plans would be rendered utterly worthless. Along with me. She scowled, smoothing her hair out as the slightest crackle of static electricity threatened have it rise up. ¡°Just get those bodies disposed of and get down to Erich¡¯s shop.¡± She snapped, ¡°I want you to make sure that it¡¯s only ¡®my¡¯ people watching over Mechromancer going forward.¡± Grey nodded, giving a jaunty faux military salute, before painstakingly starting to drag the body-bags out of the elevator with her. Sarah frowned in distaste at the long smear of blood they left on the floor. Someone will need to clean that up quickly. She thought, Last thing we need is an outsider seeing it. Walking toward the stairs, she directed one of the nearby lounging toughs to grab a mop and bucket to get the elevator cleaned up, and to put out the word that she was looking for another source of information. If any of the crew happened to pick up a reasonably high ranking member of the Brotherhood, then they could expect a hefty cash deposit to find its way in their bank account. That perked the surrounding goons up. So much so that they didn¡¯t even grumble as they jogged off to find a mop. Her father wasn¡¯t in his office, which she had half expected. She could count on one hand the number of times she had found him in there over the years. And two of those times he had been in the middle of having sex with one woman or another. Women she later had eliminated. Over the years she had stopped keeping track of the man¡¯s mistresses though. Too much effort to reduce a risk that never really existed. To her utter lack of surprise, he wasn¡¯t in his room either. Which left his workshop. When she arrived, she found him stood over some metal contraption of no immediate purpose, his powers in full swing as he moved almost entirely without conscious thought, slapping bits of metal and wire into place with seemingly little rhyme or reason. She had heard Erich¡¯s complaints about Artificer work often enough over the last few days, and seeing the slapdash mess of wires and cables - and comparing it to Erich¡¯s nice neat minimalism - she couldn¡¯t help but agree just a little with his way of thinking. ¡°Daddy?¡± She called out not entirely sure if the man would be cognizant enough to hear her. Fortunately for her, the man looked up immediately, his hand¡¯s still moving even without his eyes to guide them. It seemed that whatever Artificer trance he was in currently, it did not require control of his conscious mind to work. ¡°You find out why they were stocking that crap?¡± The man asked irritably without preamble. The ¡®crap¡¯ in question being the crates upon crates of medical machinery and supplies they had recovered from the raid on the Brotherhood¡¯s warehouse. A fact which had only further stoked Hard-Light¡¯s anger after he was informed about Chavez¡¯s death. She shook her head, ¡°He didn¡¯t know much more than rumors and hearsay.¡± Which they had half expected to be the case, given the man¡¯s relatively low place on the Brotherhood totem pole. It had always been a long shot. Still, it hadn¡¯t been an entire waste. Rumors and gossip were still better than nothing. Which her father knew. ¡°Well, let¡¯s hear it, then.¡± He sighed. ¡°Many members of the Brotherhood believe that the medical equipment is being used to create new cyborg soldiers, using a new Artificer with a particular skill set.¡± ¡°Possible,¡± Hard-Light shrugged, ¡°but unlikely. Integrity would struggle to get any great number of volunteers for the procedure. Or at least, not enough to make it worth the heat it would bring down on his head.¡± Sarah agreed. The drawbacks and lack of longevity of Artificer constructs were well known. Cyborgs made using them even more so. One might gain an arm cannon and the ability to jump over buildings, but within a year or two you were likely to end up in a wheelchair with one arm. ¡°I thought as much.¡± Sarah agreed, ¡°Though, I can also see why such a theory might prove popular among the Brotherhood¡¯s rank and file.¡± Propagating the idea that members of the Brotherhood were putting their limbs, and very lives, on the line for the glory of the gang would definitely be something the gang¡¯s higher-ups would want, not just as an added smoke screen. It would serve to raise the ranks and files morale and drive them to work harder themselves to ensure their comrades ¡®sacrifice¡¯ was not in vain. ¡°Anything on the fuck that took out Chavez¡¯s team?¡± Hard-Light growled, shaping the metal beneath him with his bare hands. ¡°Some new meta from out of town.¡± She said, happy to have some more concrete information, ¡°apparently one of their more remote branches sent him over here to make better use of his skills.¡± Hard-Light sighed unhappily. ¡°Powers? Skills? Appearance? Costume?¡± Sarah shook her head. ¡°Nothing I would consider reporting. The only other thing he knew worth mentioning was the usual complaints about the meta being arrogant, but that¡¯s nothing new. Locals don¡¯t like it when new guys muscle in on their ¡®turf¡¯. ¡°Great.¡± Hard-Light hissed, ¡°An unknown new meta in my back yard, Brotherhood performing some kind of freaky experiments, and I¡¯ve got a bunch of medical equipment my piece of shit power has no idea what the fuck to do with!¡± As he finished, the bizarre contraption beneath his fingers snapped, prompting the man to throw it away in disgust. Sarah was more than familiar with the sight of a failed Artificer trance, and she also knew he father would be snappish and irritable for days because of it. ¡°I might be able to find a seller for the supplies.¡± She suggested, in an attempt to assuage his anger. ¡°What does it matter!?¡± The man huffed as he stood up, veins throbbing in his neck. ¡°I¡¯ve got money. More than I know what the fuck to do with!¡± He roared, throwing tools onto the floor. Sarah didn¡¯t flinch. This was something she was also more than familiar with. It might have terrified her as a gangly teen who had just been abducted from her home, but she was an adult now. She¡¯d survived the crucible that was her father and come out stronger for it. ¡°What I don¡¯t have is prestige. Is power. Is any metas worth a damn!¡± The man roared, directing an accusatory glare in her direction. She took it without flinching. It was an old pain. One she was well accustomed to. Still, she wasn¡¯t about to stand around to be bitched at. ¡°Right. Well, I will get out of here and see if I can¡¯t find any more information.¡± Hard-Light snorted and looked away, and for a moment she thought that was that. Only, as she reached the door, did he choose to speak up. ¡°Call in with that new kid. Erich. See if he¡¯s got any ideas we can use for this shit. Shifty little bastard, but he¡¯s decent enough at fixing shit I can¡¯t be bothered with.¡± Sarah thought that was massive understatement, but she kept her peace. ¡°Of course, Daddy.¡± She said as she shut the door, leaving her father alone to brood. No doubt he¡¯d emerge in a few hours, looking for women or drugs. Likely both. Huffing, she flipped open her phone to check her messages and saw that Erich had already responded to her earlier one. It was a messy ramble with little in the way of a point, but it brought a small smile to her face. So easy to push him in the directions I want him to go. She thought, luxuriating in the sensation of power and security it gave her. With him at her side there was no limit to how much her power could- I¡¯m an idiot. She thought, her grin growing almost manic as her father¡¯s last words came back to her. Excitement thudded in her chest. How had she not thought of it already? ¡°Stuff you couldn¡¯t be bothered with indeed, Daddy.¡± Sarah all-but purred.
¡°Sure.¡± Erich said distractedly as he attempted to thread a coolant line through the suit for the second time in as many weeks. Another woman might have been offended by the fact that he didn¡¯t even look at her as he spoke, but Sarah was well used to the peculiarities of Artificers. And while Erich clearly wasn¡¯t one himself, he shared a great many of the same traits. It also helped her that with his head stuck inside his suit, he wasn¡¯t thinking about their current vaguely defined ¨C for him - relationship status, and could actually answer her questions without overthinking every response. More important than all of that though, she was overjoyed. ¡°Really?¡± She said breathlessly, ¡°You¡¯re absolutely sure.¡± Erich stopped to give her a funny look, ¡°Absolutely sure? Not a chance. I barely even know how your powers work, or what your big hang up about them is. Bloody typical, if I¡¯m honest. You Metas are always so quick to show them off, but ask one of you to explain them and you totally clamp up.¡± Sarah rolled her eyes as she handed him the tool he was reaching for, ¡°Because if someone knows how it works, then they can come up with a counter for it.¡± Many a Superhero or Supervillain over the years had been brought down by being a little too glib about that information. Hell, dozens of them had their strength and weakness listed on goddamn Wikipedia. Not that hers was any great mystery. It was pretty obvious if you looked. ¡°But if I explained it? You think you could do something about it?¡± He nodded absently, ¡°Sure.¡± Chapter Eleven ¡°So, you have to be touching someone to use your powers?¡± Erich asked as he sat with a notepad. ¡°Which are electrical.¡± He noted with some pride that he managed to keep his voice level as he spoke. Likely helped by the fact that he was talking about work. Otherwise he wasn¡¯t too sure he would have been as calm as he was while in a room with a woman of dubious mental health, and whom he was also involved in a vaguely defined relationship. Sarah, in an entirely uncharacteristic move, shifted uncomfortably on one of his work benches, ¡°I don¡¯t have to be touching someone, sugar. But if I don¡¯t have something to channel into, then the electrical current is likely to arc out and ground itself on whatever¡¯s convenient. Much like conventional lightning Erich surmised. Which meant she could generate a ton of power, but had no control over it. Which meant that in a fight she either had to be right next to her target or become a threat to everyone around her. Friend or foe. And even then, she¡¯s not guaranteed to hit her original target. He could see why that would be considered a ¡®shit¡¯ power. The entirety history of human warfare could be considered an arms race in the field of attaining ¡®reach¡¯ after all. He who had the longer reach struck first. Even in the days of medieval warfare, it was the pike that was king of the battlefield rather than the more commonly depicted sword. After that came bows, then guns, then artillery, then intercontinental missiles. Nowadays someone could kill a man on the other side of the planet with a satellite deployed laser orbital strike. Yes, in all things violent, reach is king. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ve got a pretty good idea of what to do.¡± He said as he clambered to his feet. ¡°Really?¡± Sarah asked, skepticism and hope warring in her voice. ¡°Positive.¡± He said as he started pulling the components he thought he would need out of storage. Or rather taking stock of what he had in storage. Only once he knew what he already had, would he be able to start working on blueprints. ¡°Gauntlet or helmet?¡± He asked as he examined a capacitor, before throwing it away in disgust. ¡°Sorry?¡± ¡°Gauntlet or helmet.¡± He repeated, ¡°As the platform for the weapon system? Which do you prefer?¡± ¡°I¡­ gauntlet, I guess?¡± The woman said hesitantly, giving him a strange look as he started sorting through strands of copper wire. ¡°Gauntlet it is.¡± He grunted. ¡°Should only take a few days. I reckon it should have an effective range of a few hundred meters and be somewhere around Gunner Three. Although I won¡¯t know the exact numbers until I see it in action.¡± ¡°You can make something that can fire a cable that far?¡± ¡°Easily.¡± He said without thinking, only to pause as the meta-human¡¯s words finally registered with him. A cable? What does she mean by a cable? After a few seconds thought, the penny dropped. ¡°I would never use anything that crude!¡± He said indignantly. ¡°Far too unreliable. The reload speed alone would be horrific.¡± Hell, if they were going for ridiculous concepts, he might as well create some kind of electrified whip. Honestly, the nerve. Might as well have just asked him to make some kind of crossbow like that charlatan Blue Archer. Utterly useless waste of space that he is. His unvoiced complaints about the bow-wielding hero were cut off as two soft, and all too familiar breasts pressed into his back. They weren¡¯t particularly large, but god were they perky. ¡°If you really can do what you¡¯re saying you can.¡± The villainess whispered hotly into his ear, ¡°You better be ready for me to fuck your brains out afterward.¡± Erich coughed, accidentally throwing his neatly stacked pile of components into disarray with his arm in the process. ¡°Yes¡­ Quite.¡± He managed to muster up, before firmly clamping down on his raging libido. She¡¯s crazy. Totally crazy. He reminded himself over and over. Insane, crazy, cuckoo¡­and totally unbelievably hot¡­ ¡°Thirty grand, all up.¡± He managed to get out. ¡°What?¡± Sarah said, partway through softly crooning. ¡°Thirty thousand. For parts and labor.¡± ¡°The sex isn¡¯t enough?¡± She asked in disbelief. Not even close. ¡°I don¡¯t do pro-bono work.¡± He said after a few moments of awkward silence. Sarah continued to stare at him, tension mounting, before finally a tiny laugh trickled out of her. ¡°Thirty thousand it is then.¡± Erich managed to stifle a sigh of relief, even as a bead of cold sweat dripped down his neck.
¡°I heard you¡¯re making something to upgrade my half-sister¡¯s power.¡± Erich resisted the urge to slam his head into the dashboard. Of course she waited until I was stuck in the car with her before asking. Gravity might have liked to come off as a lazy and generally absent minded ¨C and for the most part she was ¨C but when she put her mind to it, she could be just as slippery as her half-sister. ¡°I am not upgrading her power.¡± He sighed in the end, ¡°I am creating a device to better facilitate her usage of her power in the manner she desires.¡± In short. For murdering people. ¡°That¡¯s what I said.¡± ¡°No, you said ¡®upgrading¡¯ her power.¡± He pointed out, ¡°Which I wouldn¡¯t even know how to start doing.¡± ¡°Just jam around with her DNA, right?¡±Stolen story; please report. Erich frowned, ¡°First, I¡¯m an engineer, not a geneticist. Second, no one even knows if the Meta-gene is real.¡± Gravity gave him a funny look, ¡°Of course it is. That¡¯s what everyone calls it.¡± Erich shook his head, wincing as one of their escort cars cut off another motorist, eliciting honks and general discontent amongst other vehicles. ¡°No one knows what creates powers.¡± He said, watching the general melee forming, ¡°When they first started appearing, a lot of people suggested that it was a result of some undetectable form of radiation. One guy even dubbed it ¡®Meta Radiation¡¯.¡± Erich watched out the window as one honking motorist finally saw who had cut them off, and very wisely went silent once more, hunching over in his car in an attempt to seem small. ¡°Of course, the newly formed Heroes Guild wasn¡¯t too happy about that. The first atom bombs had just been dropped on Japan, and lots of people were suddenly very wary of anything even remotely related to the word ¡®radiation¡¯. So of course, the Guild hushed up that first guy, and started to rebrand powers as being a result of the ¡®Meta-Gene¡¯.¡± He shrugged, noting that Gravity was listening intently as they cruised down the street. ¡°Not that it makes much difference. Powers are powers. We still have no clue what causes them. We know children of Metas are more likely to have an Event, but that their powers tend to be weaker than spontaneous ones.¡± He felt his hand subtly clench as he thought of that, ¡°But that¡¯s no argument here or there. It could be genes, it could be a result of radiation from the parent affecting the child in the womb, or it could be something entirely different.¡± Gravity nodded along as if all of this was news to her. Which it probably was. It wasn¡¯t exactly common knowledge. ¡°Wait a minute!¡± Gravity shouted, shearing years off his life as she accelerated slightly at the same time. ¡°That still doesn¡¯t explain why you¡¯re making some gadget for that my bitch of a sister. Make one for me too!¡± ¡°Can¡¯t.¡± He gasped, heart racing in his chest. ¡°Why not? Because she¡¯s sleeping with you?¡± The woman snorted, ¡°If that¡¯s the barrier for entry, I¡¯ll pull over right now. We can find a quiet alley and I¡¯ll show you what real fucking is.¡± ¡°Charming.¡± Erich groaned, ¡°But no. The reason I¡¯m making one for her, and not you, is because a lightning delivery system is easy. Some mystical tech that manipulates Gravity is not.¡± Not that there weren¡¯t Artisans out there with that technology, Dr. Moon came to mind as the most obvious example, but until Erich got a chance to look at a piece of said tech, he had not a clue as to how any of it worked. Gravity mulled over his words for a few moments, and her face went through a number of emotions. Irritation. Frustration. Sadness. Irritation again, before finally, acceptance. Grudging acceptance. ¡°Fine.¡± She huffed, ¡°but I want dibs on the next cool gadget you build.¡± Erich resisted the urge to scoff. The next cool gadget he built was going to him, thank you very much. Criminal affiliation aside, he had a business to run. Still, he was wise enough not to say that aloud. At least, not until the woman had delivered him to his favorite lunch spot - and safely escorted him back home afterward. Irritating as she could be at times, he couldn¡¯t think of anyone else he would rather have between him and a room full of Neo-Nazi thugs. That was also the reason he put up with his newfound shadows in the form of Hard-Light¡¯s goons. Sure, he who sacrificed freedom for security might not deserve either, but he who gave up security for freedom wouldn¡¯t live long enough be enjoying it for long either.
¡°Do you ever think about what your life would be like if you¡¯d been one of the ¡®good guys¡¯?¡± Erich stopped, another spoonful of vivid red and steaming mapo tofu halfway toward his mouth. ¡°What, like a hero?¡± He asked incredulously. ¡°Yeah.¡± Gravity murmured, her own meal left almost completely untouched after the first tongue scorching bite. Immediately, Erich felt the need to look around to where Hard-Light¡¯s goons were loitering around outside, looking rough and generally making a nuisance of themselves. More importantly, too far away for them to hear anything he might say. ¡°When I was younger. Much younger.¡± He said conservatively, depositing another spicy spoonful into his mouth, luxuriating in the sublime burning sensation upon his palate. Truly, no one made mapo tofu like Mr. Lin. ¡°Really?¡± Gravity asked, ruining the moment with her skepticism. Still, she wasn¡¯t wrong to be so. Though for different reasons than she probably suspected. To say, even as a child, that he thought about being a hero might have been too strong. It had simply been a given. An expectation. As inevitable as the rising of the sun. ¡­Until it wasn¡¯t. In the end, he simply shrugged, ¡°Even I was young and idealistic once.¡± Patently untrue, he reflected, but he figured that it didn¡¯t hurt to say. ¡°Me too.¡± Gravity gave a sad smile, ¡°I think most kids are.¡± Eric nodded in confused agreement. ¡°When do we grow out of it though?¡± ¡°When we realize that life is a little more complicated than ¡®good¡¯ and ¡®bad¡¯.¡± He said, scooping up another scorching mouthful. ¡°I suppose,¡± Gravity muttered, leaning back precariously on her chair. She almost put her feet up on the table before she saw his pointed look. With a resigned grunt, she kept them on the floor. ¡°What started all this off anyway?¡± He asked offhandedly. Gravity startled in her seat, eyes widening, before a slow lazy grin stole over her features. ¡°Oh? Is the great Mechromancer taking an interest in the goings on of us mere mortals?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t change the subject,¡± He said, discreetly glancing around the room. Gravity¡¯s smile remained in place, but the emotion slowly bled out of it, until finally she sighed and leaned back even more. ¡°That thing with Chavez¡¯s team.¡± She said, ¡°It really got me thinking about¡­ everything.¡± ¡°Really?¡± He asked, ¡°I would have thought deaths weren¡¯t all that uncommon in this line of business.¡± ¡°Not as common as you might think,¡± She said, before correcting herself, ¡°At least, not for us¡± Erich could see that being the case. The other two factions had been tiptoeing around Hard-Light and his organization for a very long time. So long, that this sudden aggression from the Brotherhood was almost entirely out of the blue. ¡°So, what?¡± He said around another mouthful of mouth searing goodness, ¡°You¡¯re thinking of giving up the crime game?¡± ¡°Were it so easy...¡± She murmured, before glancing at him, ¡°You better not repeat what I just said.¡± He rolled his eyes. As if he would? Who would he tell? His many friends and acquaintances? ¡°I¡¯m serious, Erich.¡± Gravity hissed with sudden heat. ¡°Fine. Fine.¡± He said, raising both his hands in surrender, ¡°I promise not to say a word.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll hold you to that.¡± She said, giving him a long hard stare. A comfortable silence reigned between the two as Erich continued to eat, and Gravity studiously avoided her own meal. Occasionally she would bring a fork up to her lips, only to find herself reaching for her water the moment the red concoction so much as grazed her taste buds. It was most entertaining. ¡°So, you don¡¯t think about it anymore then?¡± She finally asked, eyes watering from the heat. ¡°Being a hero?¡± He prompted. ¡°Yeah.¡± Gravity nodded. ¡°No.¡± He said flatly, ¡°My recent criminal enterprises aside, the Guild is very clear on precluding non-Metas from it¡¯s ranks.¡± He tried not to sound resentful about that, but he was sure he was entirely unsuccessful. ¡°What if that didn¡¯t matter though?¡± She said, leaning in, ¡°What if all the crime and the meta shit wasn¡¯t a factor?¡± He raised an eyebrow at her, but nonetheless deliberated over the question for a few lengthy seconds. Be a hero? Like his older sister? His parents and his grandparents? ¡°No.¡± He said flatly, ignoring the wince that passed over Gravity¡¯s eager face. ¡°You going to elaborate?¡± She asked after a few seconds passed. He looked her dead in the eyes as he answered. ¡°No.¡± The ride back was mostly silent. Erich didn¡¯t mind. His belly was full of delicious food. He had money in the bank. And he had an interesting project on his workbench. His relationship status could do with a little less complication, but he could live with that. Hopefully. Compared to all that, the strange mood that had come over Gravity was hardly worth worrying about. If his friend - and he couldn¡¯t believe he used that word ¨C was having some sort of crisis of faith, then it was up to her to work through it. He doubted any words he might have to give would be of any help. He could only hope she worked through whatever conundrum she was suffering before they were invariably drawn into the next gang related shootout. He half expected a shot to come ringing through the window as he thought those words; an inevitable result of him tempting fate. As luck would have it though, nothing happened, and the pair made it back to the shop without incident. Things must have been looking up for him. Chapter Twelve ¡°I can¡¯t believe this shit.¡± Frank sighed as he threw his cards down onto the tipped over fridge they were using as an impromptu poker table. Jack wasn¡¯t much better, the younger man audibly grinding his teeth as he dropped his cards. ¡°Believe what? That you¡¯re losing so hard?¡± Myra, the sole female present at their little poker game, grinned as she leaned forward to scoop up her winnings. ¡°Yes. No!¡± The older man hissed, running a hand through his jet black hair in irritation. ¡°What are we even doing here?¡± Myra sent a confused sidelong glance at Jack, who just shrugged in his taciturn way. Zero help there. She thought, taking a deep breath of the cool night air. ¡°Guarding the junkyard?¡± She said slowly. It wasn¡¯t the most glamorous or exciting work, but it had to be done. The boss would be furious if anything happened to one of his premiere sources for parts. Never mind, the fact that the guy owned at least two other sites just like this one, that were either equivalent or larger. Not that Myra would ever voice that opinion aloud. Dissenters in Hard-Light¡¯s organization had a nasty tendency to disappear when they got too vocal. If the mad-dog that was his daughter didn¡¯t get to you, then the old man himself did. Which was why Myra felt more than just a little nervous as Frank continued to speak. ¡°Why are we here, when we could be out there? Showing the Brotherhood who really owns this city.¡± ¡°We hit that warehouse of theirs the other week.¡± She pointed out, hoping to quiet the man down before someone overhead him. ¡°Even brought that new meta along.¡± ¡°Mechro-something.¡± Jack said. ¡°Yeah, that.¡± Myra said, game thoroughly forgotten as she attempted to keep her erstwhile friend from killing himself via pissed off meta. Unfortunately for her, Frank just shook his head. ¡°So, what? We get this new meta, and we kill, eight, maybe nine of their guys tops?¡± It didn¡¯t need to be said that they had lost far more than that in return. The news of what had happened to Chavez¡¯s team had shot through the ranks like shit through a goose. No one wanted to say it, but people were nervous. For years they had thought themselves invincible, but recent events had firmly shattered that illusion. ¡°We got a bunch of machine shit though.¡± She pointed out, more to convince herself than anyone else, ¡°The boss could use that to whip up¡­ something.¡± ¡°Medical equipment.¡± Jack said. ¡°Friend of mine says the boss has been raging around the mansion all week. Everyone knows that means he hasn¡¯t been able to build anything.¡± Myra scowled. ¡°That¡¯s got to be bullshit. Why the fuck would the Brotherhood be stockpiling medical equipment.¡± They were Neo-Nazis, not the Red Cross. Jack was about to respond when the lights went out. Not just in their little clearing, but all over the junkyard; shouts of surprise coming from their fellow gang members as their guard posts were plunged into darkness. ¡°Fucking cheap ass generator.¡± Jack growled, pulling out his phone and turning on the flashlight. ¡°Got an Artificer for a boss, and still can¡¯t get shit to work properly.¡± Myra agreed wholeheartedly, but wisely kept her thoughts to herself. ¡°Sam isn¡¯t answering her phone.¡± Jack said sullenly as he glanced at his own. Because she¡¯s probably already trying to fix the generator. The twitchy mechanic wouldn¡¯t be sitting on her ass when it was her ass on the line. ¡°Well, fuck it.¡± Jack said, already moving off in the direction of the generator. ¡°I¡¯m not waiting around in the dark for her to maybe start fixing it.¡± Myra felt a bit leery about leaving their post, but seeing Jack start striding off after the other man got her moving. Better than sitting in the dark alone. She could hear voices from all over the junkyard, and lights moving around as people tried to figure out what was going on. No one was particularly alarmed though. This wasn¡¯t the first time this had happened, and probably wouldn¡¯t be the last. Still, Myra couldn¡¯t deny that the Junkyard was pretty freaky when illuminated just by the light of their phones. Jutting junk and cars took on a distinctly ominous tone as shadows twirled to and fro in the gloom. Despite the ridiculousness of it, Myra found herself reaching for the comforting grip of her pistol. Sure, it wasn¡¯t one of the fancy laser ones that Hard-Light¡¯s inner circle got, but it had served her well enough in the years since she had joined the gang. ¡­Not that she¡¯d ever had reason to fire it. The few times she¡¯d been called into force a belligerent business owner to pay up, just waving it around had been enough to get the job done. To be honest, she wasn¡¯t entirely sure she could shoot someone if it came down to it. She wasn¡¯t in the criminal life for a love of violence. She¡¯d just kind of¡­ fallen into it. A not uncommon story in this line of work. ¡°Someone talk about something.¡± Frank said from ahead of them as they wandered through piles of rusty junk. ¡°About what?¡± Jack asked. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ How are the kids?¡± ¡°Fine.¡± Jack responded in his typical way, killing the conversation before it even started. Despite herself, Myra chuckled. It was just so ridiculous. Here they were, three hardcore ¡®criminals¡¯ getting nervous because of a little darkness. Why she- ¡°Fuck.¡± She¡¯d almost walked into Frank after the man had come to a sudden stop. ¡°What¡¯s the matter? Stepped in shit again?¡± She¡¯d told the patrols time and time again to pick up after the guard dogs, but they never did. ¡°No.¡± Frank said, deadly serious. Stomach sinking, Myrah looked over to see what the man was looking at. ¡°Christ!¡± She shrieked, tripping over as she stepped backward. It was Sam and her boyfriend. Dead and swinging in the breeze. High tension cable wrapped round their necks, before being strung up from a crane. ¡°Just like Chavez.¡± Jack breathed. Myra agreed. She hadn¡¯t seen it, but she heard about it. Everyone in Hard-Light¡¯s gang had. Blood running cold, she clambered back up to her feet, gun in hand.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°We¡¯ve got to get back to the others.¡± They would be safer with numbers. Not a fucking chance they were dealing with this alone. Ahead of her, the two men nodded, drawing their guns. Determinedly the trio started going back the way they had come. Unfortunately, they¡¯d only traveled a few meters when it started up; Screams. Shouts. The occasional burst of gunfire. Coming from all over the junkyard. Like something out of a bad horror flick. Myra thought. Barely a minute later they started coming across bodies. Sometimes alone. Sometimes as part of a group. Throats sliced open, strung aloft with cable, or simply run through with a blade, the handles still sticking out of them. Just like with Chavez¡¯s team. It was the third such gruesome tableau that finally broke her will. ¡°Fuck this.¡± She hissed. ¡°Let¡¯s get the fuck out of here.¡± ¡°Right,¡± Frank nodded from ahead of her, ¡°We¡¯re going to pick up the- Where¡¯s Jack?¡± Myra¡¯s light and gun whipped around to show artificial alleys made from discarded junk, but no man. He was right fucking there! ¡°Do¡­ do we go look for him?¡± She asked. The look Frank gave was totally incredulous. Instead of answering, he simply turned around and started jogging in the direction of the exit, only a few errant steps away from sprinting. Myra took off after him, heart racing in her chest as her breathing echoed in her ears. There was no warning before it happened. Just a low whistle of something flying through the air, and Frank collapsed. He let out a wet gurgle as Myra jumped over him, the woman not bothering to look back as she sprinted for the exit. She only made it a few more feet before something hit her in the head, sending her sprawling to the dirt. It was a small miracle that she managed to hold onto her phone, but her pistol went sailing off into the darkness. Arms skinned and bleeding, she started to crawl toward where she thought it had fallen, only to groan in pain as something slammed into her back, pinning her to the floor. "Please." She gasped, trying to move despite the foot pressed into her back. ¡°Poorly balanced mass-produced garbage.¡± A voice above her snorted in disgust. Whoever it was, their voice was totally distorted, almost as if they were garbling marbles when they spoke. Just to her left, she saw what had hit her; a throwing knife, now lying in the dirt. ¡°I surrender.¡± She cried, ¡°Please¡­ Please don¡¯t kill me.¡± ¡°Why do the scum always whine so much.¡± The voice asked rhetorically. ¡°You¡¯re all so content to strut around, proclaiming yourselves rulers of this city. But when you¡¯re down on your luck, and at someone else¡¯s mercy, you all say the same things. ¡®Mercy. Don¡¯t kill me. I have rights.¡¯¡± ¡°At least try and die with some dignity.¡± ¡°No, wait-
Sarah couldn¡¯t help but feel slightly disappointed when she wandered in to find Erich working on the suit. Never mind the fact that she¡¯d been dreaming of having a more powerful ability since she¡¯d been a little girl. With deliberate calm she walked over to the man, who was yet again fiddling with the coolant system. ¡°Hello Erich,¡± She said, ¡°Any progress on my gauntlet?¡± The man didn¡¯t respond, and for a second she had to resist the urge to shock him to attention as his torso remained firmly inside the suit¡¯s. Fuck it. ¡°Erich!¡± She said, letting rip with a small jolt of power. A loud thunk, and a few curses later, Erich¡¯s body emerged from the suit, rubbing his head and looking more than a little irate. ¡°What!?¡± He groused, staring daggers at her. Normally she knew he would never summon up the audacity for such an act, but when around his tech she knew he had the tendency to be¡­ shortsighted. ¡°The gauntlet?¡± She repeated, ¡°What progress have you made?¡± With any luck he would have gotten the parts he needed together, and could really start his planning in- ¡°Over there. On the table.¡± He motioned, before clambering back inside the suit. ¡°And don¡¯t fucking do that again.¡± For just a moment, Sarah was struck dumb. Only for a moment though, and the second it passed her feet were clattering along the floor as she all but sprinted over to the table. There they were. Just as he said they¡¯d be. More than that, there was not one, but two shiny new gauntlets, rife with technological components. They weren¡¯t exactly stylish or eye catching, but they did have a rustic utilitarianism to them. Not that she much cared how they looked, just so long as they worked. With almost indecent haste she started pulling them on, only to realize once they were on her hands that she had no clue how they worked. ¡°Erich.¡± She called, ¡°How do I activate them.¡± ¡°Just aim in the direction you want them to go and push your power into the palms.¡± The man said automatically. It was almost two seconds later that he realized what he had just done. ¡°Outside! Outside!¡± ¡°Too late.¡± Sarah sing-songed. Aiming at the wall of the workshop, Sarah excitedly pumped as much power as she could into her hands. With instant results. The sound and light were deafening, as honest to god lightning leapt from her very fingertips to lance against the wall with all the fire and fury of a bolt from Zeus himself. It was awe inspiring. An entire thunderstorm encapsulated in her very palm. Then it was over, and they were left with cherry red and partially melted walls, small residual arcs of electricity sparking across the place, and the overpowering stench of ozone in the air. Sarah collapsed to her knees, too overwhelmed with emotion to stay standing. Erich felt like doing much the same, only for entirely different reasons. ¡°Again.¡± He whined, seeing the second hole to be punched into the wall of his shop. He still hadn¡¯t fixed the one left by his first meeting with Gravity. Sarah didn¡¯t care. She was overjoyed. Beyond overjoyed. The power, the smell, the sensation of it all. It was ecstasy. Beyond ecstasy. ¡°How does it work?¡± She breathed huskily. There had been no cable. Nothing launched from the glove. No delay either. Just a long uninterrupted stream of unyielding electrical power. Power felt without limits. She thought, heat blazing in her chest. Unlimited power. Erich was not nearly so enthused, turning away from the hole in his wall with a sigh. ¡°Basically, the lightning gets shot down a laser beam.¡± He said, bringing his shirt up over his face to protect against the stink. ¡°The fingertips of the gloves have very small laser lenses in them, which can¡¯t do much by themselves, but combined with your power, they can shoot an incredibly short pulse of high energy light. One powerful enough to create an electromagnetic field around it.¡± Sarah didn¡¯t really understand the science of what he was saying, but damned if the words weren¡¯t passing right through her and down to her¡­ core. Almost of their own accord, her hands started to roam. ¡°The electromagnetic field is so powerful that it can rip electrons in the air, creating a needle thin pathway of plasma.¡± Erich continued, not even looking at her to notice what she was doing. ¡°And since plasma is a better conductor for electricity than air, the lightning travels along that instead.¡± Sarah all but moaned, marveling at the elegance of it. ¡°Straight to the target.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Erich shrugged, missing the heat in her voice as he preened. ¡°That¡¯s basically it. Pretty simple application of basic science when you get right down to it.¡± Maybe to him. Sarah knew Hard-Light wouldn¡¯t have thought of such a system in a hundred years, and she knew she certainly hadn¡¯t. And she¡¯d had more than enough incentive to try. She watched with glazed eyes as Erich threw a tarp over the suit, before walking over to open the sliding doors. A gentle breeze blowing through the room as he did, dissipating some of the stench. Sarah sighed as it caressed her heated and sweaty skin. The things she could do with these gauntlets. The power she held. Ignorant of her thoughts, Erich was still chattering away. ¡°Honestly, it was pretty easy to do. Didn¡¯t need to add in batteries or a power source of any kind. Which helped me keep them small. Honestly, the hardest part was finding a conductor for the palm that wouldn¡¯t melt with the sheer amount of juice you were going to be putting through it.¡± She was halfway through tearing her top off, entirely ready to act on her earlier promise of fucking the insufferable genius¡¯s brains out, when Gravity ran in. Dripping wet from the shower, and without a shred of clothing to protect her modesty. ¡°We under attack!? What the fuck was that noise!?¡± She shouted, gun ready, only to recoil as the smell hit her, ¡°Ugh, what the fuck is that smell?¡± Then her eyes finally alighted on Sarah. Or more specifically, the gauntlets on her hands. Then, almost of their own accord, her eyes tracked toward the massive blackened crater in Erich¡¯s wall. ¡°Oh, for fucks sake.¡± The nude woman groaned. ¡°That¡¯s just fucking unfair.¡± At which point, Erich finally noticed that no one was listening to him, and was stuck between looking indignant, and goggling at the nearly naked, and entirely naked, women on display. Which was the exact scene Hard-Light¡¯s goons ran in to see, having been drawn by the sound of the gauntlets going off. ¡°Holy shit.¡± One man whispered as he surveyed the entirety of it, although whether it was the nudity on display, or the damage, that drew the oath, no one could say. Though more than one man and woman agreed with him on both accounts. Chapter Thirteen ¡°I call dibs on the strip club.¡± Erich said, firmly putting his finger over the building¡¯s location on the map. Across from him he heard a hastily aborted laugh from Gravity, though Sarah and Hard-Light looked far less amused. Erich found himself regretting his spontaneous outburst, as the air in the hastily converted war-room started to grow ever more tense. He firmly kept his finger on the map though. ¡°Fine.¡± Hard-Light eventually sighed, bringing up a hand to massage the bridge of his nose, ¡°The kid gets to hit the titty bar.¡± Inwardly fist pumping, Erich deliberately didn¡¯t look at Sarah, who had quickly turned her glare on her father. ¡°Daddy!¡± She cried. ¡°We¡¯re all hitting different targets anyway, so it was going to be one of us going. May as well let the kid have the titty bar if he wants it so much.¡± As the man spoke, he deliberately glanced down at Sarah¡¯s gauntlets; which were still on her hands even though there was no need for them in the middle of Hard-Light¡¯s mansion. ¡°I figure he¡¯s earned that much.¡± Sarah looked like she wanted to complain, but after a few moments thought, she settled down. Though not without a final seething glance in Erich¡¯s direction. Which the Engineer studiously pretended not to see. All the while, Gravity watched on with barely contained mirth. Erich didn¡¯t care. He was content to let his three compatriots believe his choice in target was for an entirely puerile reason. It wasn¡¯t. He got enough bare tits flashed his way at home as it was. No, he had picked the strip club because it was likely to the least defended of the available targets. Hell, if it had more than a bouncer or two for security, he would be surprised. ¡°Right, so Erich¡¯s hitting the titty bar. I¡¯m hitting another warehouse. Sarah¡¯s hitting a drug lab. Where are you going?¡± Gravity asked, directing a speculative glance at Hard-Light. ¡°I¡¯m hitting Integrity¡¯s little club house.¡± The man grunted. Sarah gasped, and even Gravity looked a little taken back. Erich didn¡¯t have any reaction at all. He didn¡¯t know what the ¡®club house¡¯ was ¨C or more importantly, care. ¡°Daddy you can¡¯t!¡± Sarah pleaded, her hair rising as static crackled through it. ¡°Half the Brotherhood¡¯s Metas could be there.¡± ¡°Much as I hate to agree with her, she¡¯s right.¡± Gravity chipped in. ¡°Not even you can just waltz in and out of that place.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter.¡± Hard-Light ground out. ¡°If we¡¯re going to find the fuck who killed my people, we need to search the most likely spots.¡± The man shrugged, ¡°Besides, I think you¡¯re both underestimating me. In fact, I think everyone is, including the fucking Brotherhood.¡± There was a light hum in the air as the man¡¯s iconic energy swords came to life, ¡°I think it¡¯s high-time I reminded those Nazi fucks who the scariest meta in this shithole of a city is.¡± This time it was Gravity who looked like she wanted to argue, but much like Sarah before her, ultimately kept her peace. She didn¡¯t even bother with a venomous look either, as she moved over to sprawl out on a chair once more. ¡°Whatever. It¡¯s your funeral old man.¡± She muttered. ¡°What was that?¡± The man in question asked, a dangerous edge entering his tone. One that sent shivers up Erich¡¯s spine. ¡°Nothing.¡± Gravity said, paling as she suddenly sat up straight. ¡°Fucking right.¡± The Artificer said, swords dissipating into motes of light. The tension in the room dropping back down to normal levels only a few moments later. That was not quick enough for some though. I think I might need a new pair of pants. Erich whimpered in his mind, and judging by the look on Gravity¡¯s face, he wasn¡¯t the only one. ¡°Alright, now that Olivia is quite done wasting time,¡± Sarah said, completely unflustered by her father¡¯s show of force, and apparently over her earlier horror, or hiding it. ¡°I would say we need to move onto picking out teams for this little operation.¡±. ¡°Right,¡± Hard-Light grunted, ¡°The kid can take Smith¡¯s team. You can take Grey¡¯s. Gravity can take Lopez¡¯s, and I¡¯ll take Grant¡¯s and Tyler¡¯s.¡± Sarah thought it over for a second. ¡°Actually, I think I¡¯ll take Smith¡¯s team. With Sam gone he¡¯s still pretty new to leadership, and I¡¯d rather keep a close on eye on him for now. Grey¡¯s team can go with Mechromancer.¡± Hard-Light just waved his hand as if to say he didn¡¯t care. Which he probably didn¡¯t to be honest. Hard-Light was bit more ¡®reality focused¡¯ than most Artificer¡¯s tended to be, but not by much. In the two months or so that Erich had been in the gang, he had discovered that the actual ¡®running¡¯ of the place was pretty much left to Sarah. Hard-Light was ironically, both a cornerstone of the gang and a figurehead. ¡°What are we doing if we encounter the ¡®Ghost¡¯?¡± Erich asked, as he turned his thoughts back to the situation at hand. Gravity quirked an eyebrow at him. ¡°How do you know that name?¡± ¡°¡­by talking to people?¡± He said uncertainly. ¡°Yeah right.¡± The woman snorted, ¡°You don¡¯t talk to anyone. You barely talk to us and we live with you.¡± Erich wanted to point out that Sarah didn¡¯t live with him, but she was over often enough that it was kind of a moot point. ¡°Grey probably told him.¡± Sarah said distractedly, eyes still firmly on the map, ¡°I put her on his guard detail, and I¡¯ve seen him talking to her once or twice.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Gravity smiled, ¡°Has a new woman entered our dear Mechromancer¡¯s life? Trying to turn yourself into a real Mech-Romancer?¡± ¡°If I had a gun on me, I would shoot you for that god-awful pun.¡± Erich deadpanned. ¡°And She¡¯s been talking to me.¡± And for the life of him he couldn¡¯t figure out why. The tall and gangly tattooed woman had even less in common with him than the sisters, with zero mechanical aptitude at all. From what he could tell, she wasn¡¯t even enjoying it. ¡°Sound¡¯s about right.¡± Gravity grunted, slouching back into her seat. ¡°God forbid you sought out human companionship yourself.¡± Erich shot a glare at her before talking a calming breath. ¡°My incredibly small social circle aside, I can¡¯t help but note that none of you have said what to do if we encounter the Ghost.¡± Which probably wasn¡¯t the guy¡¯s Cape name, but it was what Hard-Light¡¯s goons had taken to calling him. The slaughter of Chavez¡¯s team, and then later at the junkyard, had made more than a mark on all their psyches. ¡°The whole purpose of this operation is to smoke them out of hiding, and yet I¡¯ve heard zero comment on how we plan to actually take them down once we do.¡± He continued. Sarah looked slightly uncomfortable as she finally looked up from the map, Gravity¡¯s grin had turned decidedly wooden, and even Hard-Light¡¯s surly scowl had faded somewhat.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°We don¡¯t know.¡± The old man grumbled. ¡°They haven¡¯t left any survivors, so we don¡¯t know what his or her powers are.¡± Sarah bucked up a bit, ¡°But on both occasions they were active, it was at night, and only against human targets. So we are striking during the day, and keeping our metas with our teams.¡± Great. So they were winging it and hoping for the best. Once more he praised his foresight in picking the strip club. Sarah look him dead in the eyes, ¡°I would also remind you that this operation has a secondary purpose. In the event that we do not encounter the Ghost, it¡¯s almost a given that we will find other members of their senior leadership.¡± Who would have information on the new meta in the Brotherhood¡¯s ranks. Along with a host of other useful bits of information vital to prosecuting the continuing conflict. Sarah had already stressed to all of them that she wanted at least one of those people alive. ¡°Fine.¡± Erich sighed, running a hand through his hair, ¡°I guess I¡¯ll just have to improvise something.¡± Gravity smirked from her position at the back, ¡°Chin up, Erich. You¡¯ve already taken down two Metas. What¡¯s one more?¡± Three too many. He thought.
As Hard-Light¡¯s small army got loaded up and ready to pile into vans, Erich couldn¡¯t help but notice one small fact. It hadn¡¯t gotten any smaller. Or at least, not appreciably smaller given the slaughter at the Junkyard the other week. Never mind, the various small conflicts between rival gangs¡¯ members that had been occurring sporadically over the course of the feud. He almost instinctively turned to ask Gravity what the deal was, only to realize she was over with her own team. So instead, he reluctantly turned to Grey. ¡°Irregulars.¡± The woman said as phlegmatically as ever. Which then lead onto a particularly long discussion on the exact make up of Hard-Light¡¯s gang. Or at least, long for both individuals involved. Erich loathed social contact as much as any put-upon genius, and Grey just wasn¡¯t particularly talkative, despite her apparent irrational desire to be in his presence at the shop. Which ironically, despite his words at the briefing, was one of the reasons he rather enjoyed her company. When Sarah was around, the woman could be positively chatty -if a little crude, but when her boss was gone, Grey could be relied upon to stand in stoic silence, occasionally handing him tools, while watching him work on whatever project needed doing. It was almost as if the life went out of her whenever the blonde left her general vicinity. Which was a positive change as far Erich was concerned. It certainly made her more tolerable to him than most people he came across.
¡°¡­So you¡¯re saying that Hard-Light¡¯s organization only really has about fifty core members? The rest are more or less just menials and hangers-on? Bodies to crew his facilities?¡± Erich summarized. The tall woman nodded, absently listening to her earpiece, much as she had been the through the entire explanation. Not even once on the entire ride over had he seen her switch channel or turn it off. ¡°We¡¯re here.¡± She said without preamble, clambering out of the van and onto a non-descript, if a little rundown, street. Erich trooped out after her, his suit whirring as the synth-muscles within warmed up again after the long drive over. It had been uncomfortable sitting in complete stillness within the immobile suit for the entire car-ride, and he found himself luxuriating in the sensation of being able to move his limbs once more. ¡°How are things going with the other teams?¡± He asked as he turned around to get a good look at the area they were in. ¡°Fine.¡± Grey said, as she watched her people disembarking from their group¡¯s second van ¨C a concession that had to be made given the size of his suit. ¡°Gravity and Sarah are still en-route to their destinations, and Hard-Light has engaged three meta individuals at his.¡± Erich nearly choked on air at the woman¡¯s casual utterance that Hard-Light was currently fighting three enemy metas. Scary motherfucker or not, that was still a tall order. ¡°Is he going to be ok!?¡± The tattooed woman gave him an incredulous look ¨C or at least, as incredulous a look as she seemed capable of mustering. ¡°He¡¯ll be fine.¡± Erich wasn¡¯t quite so sure, but he figured it would be wiser to keep his doubts to himself. Besides, he figured. I should probably focus on my own task. No matter how much of a cake walk it was going to be. It was at that moment that the van across from him exploded. The sudden fireball sent panicked goons hurtling, either to the floor, or the nearest bit of cover. Erich wasn¡¯t much better, ducking pointlessly as a flaming chunk of debris whipped past his armored head. Rocket. He thought numbly. That was a rocket. A few moments passed before emotion swept back into his mind once more, filling his world with sight and sound. Why did they have a rocket launcher? Why would they use it? Surely that violated some unwritten rule of street gang violence. More importantly, could his suit survive a rocket to the chest? Probably. Though it wouldn¡¯t be much fun or leave me with much in the way of shields afterward¡­ He guessed. Could his suit survive two rockets to the chest? Not a fucking chance. He snarled as he looked around for the nearest piece of cover, only to realize that there wasn¡¯t any. Or at least, not any that wouldn¡¯t detonate violently when struck by a fucking rocket. ¡°Did anyone see where it came from!?¡± He asked franticly over the comms, struggling to be heard over the frantic chatter of the thoroughly surprised squad of criminals. ¡°Second story window of the target location,¡± Grey¡¯s calm voice answered back, somehow perfectly clear over the noise. Erich¡¯s eyes panned over to the spot, and sure enough, there was a rocket launcher poking out the second story window of the strip club. What was even more surprising, even than the choice of weapon, was that the woman holding it was clad ¨C or unclad ¨C in clothes that left little illusion as to how she made a living. From other windows he could see guns emerging, as more women, and some scantily clad men, joined the fray. ¡°Nazi strippers,¡± Erich murmured in disbelief before he raised his arm. ¡°Aim assist on.¡± ¡°Acknowledged.¡± Gravity¡¯s somber voice came though the speakers, just before Erich fired. The force blast took the rocket wielding young woman straight in the forehead, which whipped back with what was likely an audible crack if he¡¯d been close enough to hear it. Only, as she fell, one of her colleagues ran over to deftly scoop up the weapon, bringing up to his shoulder with surprising competence. Erich was about to fire again, buoyed by the fact that his own allies had started to return fire. ¡°Shield at ninety percent.¡± Cursing, he realized that he was still standing out in the open like an idiot. Firing again and taking out the second rocket wielder, he searched around for cover, only to belatedly realize there was none. Or at least, none that would hide his massive bulk. Even the still reasonably intact van was starting to look like swiss cheese as more and more shots peppered it. Which left him only one option really. No matter how much he didn¡¯t want to take it. ¡°I¡¯m going in!¡± He yelled through the suits massive external speakers, suit humming as he charged toward the closed purple doors of the strip club. Fire redoubled against his shields as the occupants within realized what he was doing, Gravity¡¯s voice informing that his shields were now at eighty percent. But it was too little too late. He slammed against the building¡¯s doors with the force of a runaway train, shattering them as he crashed inside. The sudden muting of the gunfire outside was odd, as he was left only with the humming of his suit and his panting breaths. It was an odd effect. Perhaps a result of some clever sound proofing with the places garish lilac curtains. It felt almost like he¡¯d just stepped into another world. An effect only reinforced by the fact that the entranceway was completely empty of defenders. How peculiar Erich thought. Shouldn¡¯t the entrance at the very least be guarded? Still it gave him a moment to catch his breath and survey the place. In truth he had never actually been in a strip club before, and despite himself, his eyes wandered just a little over the place¡¯s cheesy d¨¦cor. That which he could see through the hall¡¯s second set of interior doors, gloomy interior and high intensity spotlight¡¯s. Of course, that was the moment one particularly brave, or stupid, employee emerged from them to blast him full in the chest with a shotgun. It achieved little beyond create a negligible decrease in his shields, but it did serve to remind Erich that he was here to destroy the place, not critique it¡¯s interior. No matter how in need of critiquing it was. Erich blasted his attacker with casual ease, ignoring the crack as the man flew back through the doors. Only, as he stepped forward to continue his assault once more, he heard it. Squelch? Heart filling with dread, he looked down to where the offending noise came from. ¡°It would seem the entrance was not entirely undefended after all, He thought with growing resignation. I¡¯m going to have to break out the bucket again. Assuming he lived long enough to do so, he thought as he heard the sound of trampling feet heading his way. ¡°Death by Nazi strippers.¡± He muttered, ¡°Sis, if only you could see me now.¡± Chapter Fourteen ¡°Could you, uh, quit doing that boss?¡± Smith asked, the blonde young man stuttered from his spot on the van¡¯s bench. ¡°Your kind of making the rest of us nervous.¡± Sarah gave him a considering look, eyes roaming over the rest of his team as she continued intermittently releasing sparks from her newest toys. ¡°Bronte.¡± She said. ¡°¡­Bronte?¡± The team leader asked in confusion, eyes intermittently flitting towards her hands. ¡°My new cape name is Bronte.¡± Sarah smiled happily, ¡°After the Greek goddess of lightning." Now that she finally had a power worthy of having a title, she¡¯d been doing some research on what one she wanted. In the end she¡¯d narrowed her choices down to the two divine handmaidens of Zeus. It had been difficult choosing between the twin goddesses of lightning and thunder, but eventually she decided that Bronte had less unfortunate overtones to it than her sister, Astrape. Seeing the skepticism on the team leaders face, she let loose with another crackle of power, enjoying the way those in the van with her leaned away from the noise and the smell. ¡°You don¡¯t like it?¡± The chorus of affirmations for her new name was music to her ears. Of course, she knew it was entirely fear talking, but that was fine. The novelty of it being her own power to elicit it, not fear of reprisal from her father, had yet to wear off. Still, it did her little good to terrify her entire team into puddles before the mission even began. She needed them to be in some state to fight when they finally disembarked. So, with more than a little reluctance, she finally stopped flaring her powers. Though she did enjoy the barely audible sighs of relief that passed through the van as she did. ¡°Five minutes out,¡± the driver¡¯s voice called through the grill connecting the back to the front cabin. The man¡¯s fear was tangible, but it was only to be expected. He wasn¡¯t part of the organization¡¯s core. Just another nobody grabbed from one of their fringe businesses. A part of her wondered if the man even knew he was working for a supervillain before today. Absently, she started to check over her equipment. Her barriers were functioning fine and her laser pistol was sat on her belt, fully charged. Most importantly though, her gauntlets were ready. Oh, how excited she was to finally put them to use. A few moments listening to the organization¡¯s communications told her that her father had already engaged the enemy... and to her surprise, so had Mechromancer. Ha. She wasn¡¯t a great believer in karma - it was a bit hard to be a supervillain if you were - but she certainly felt there was some greater cosmic force at work there. Still, as amusing as it was, it was also alarming. Strip clubs being defended by sex workers wielding rocket launchers was not the norm. Nor was Integrity¡¯s home having only three Metas present. Something very peculiar was going on with the Brotherhood, but she had not a clue what it was. Which only reinforced the need for these missions. They needed some information on what was going on with the Neo-Nazis. ¡°Equipment check!¡± She barked out to the team with a vicious grin, receiving a number of affirmatives from the group. As core members of the organization they were fully fitted out with barriers and laser rifles. Some even had masks designed to imitate Hard-Light¡¯s own skull theme, as well as provide some minor vision enhancements in low light conditions. Not that they would be needing them today, given that the sun was high in the sky. Perfect for ambushing an opponent who had only operated at night thus far. ¡°My barrier¡¯s not working properly.¡± A young woman near the door called out, ¡°It keeps flickering on and off.¡± Sarah cursed. Typical meta-tech unreliability, She huffed. One reason amongst many that not everyone was running around with the advanced technology. An Artificer could only create so much stuff before maintenance became a full-time affair. Still, nothing she could do about it now. ¡°Then I would advise not getting shot.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± The girl swallowed nervously. "We¡¯ll be pulling up any minute.¡± The man said, ¡°I can see people out front¡­ I think they know we¡¯re coming.¡± Sarah scowled. Either the Brotherhood¡¯s communications was more on the ball than they had anticipated, or someone had blabbed. And given that a strip-club of all things was apparently putting up stiff resistance against what should have been a surprise attack, she knew where she was putting her money. ¡°Pull over here then.¡± She shouted back, ¡°No point in is getting to the originally planned point if we all die before even getting out the van.¡± ¡°Will do.¡± The man said, utterly failing to hide the relief in his voice. Sarah shifted in her seat slightly as the van decelerated with the sound of shrieking brakes. ¡°Out.¡± She instructed before they had even fully stopped moving. Newness of their leader aside, this team had done a number of raids just like this over the years - albeit usually against softer opposition - and obligingly piled out with a promptness borne from experience. Sarah piled out last, keeping low to the ground so best to use the wall of shields created by her underlings personal barriers. Gangster usually weren¡¯t much for ¡®training¡¯ as such, but the ¡®shield wall¡¯ technique had certainly been drilled into them over the years. Rounds started to ping toward them, but Sarah was already glancing through the press of bodies toward likely spots for cover. Patting individuals on the shoulder to get their attention, she started directing people towards the best positions available. When there were only two people left, she used them as mobile cover to get to her own position, moving along by guiding them both by the shoulders while they continued to shoot. During her brief time out in the open she¡¯d counted about three dozen Brotherhood goons moving about, though as she peeked out from cover again, she saw that a good eight of those had been downed already. Her own people had taken zero losses in return; more a result of their superior equipment than any great disparity in skill. Barriers allowed her people to peek up and shoot for longer, and their laser weapons burnt through all but the hardiest of cover. Even a glancing hit from the overpowered weapon systems could be debilitating. Though not nearly as debilitating as being by one of my new toys. She was tempted to just start blazing away with her own powers, but she resisted the urge. She had to keep her mind on the tactical situation, not get caught up in the thrill of a firefight.Her time would come, it was just a matter of waiting for that ideal moment. One where she would get the maximum impact from unveiling her new ability. Despite the fact that the firefight had started with her people outnumbered almost three times over, it was the Brotherhood who broke first; retreating back to the rundown apartment building that they had repurposed both as a safehouse and drug lab. Sarah drew her pistol and aimed a few leisurely bursts at the retreating figures. Once upon a time she would have been forced to use single shots, but Erich¡¯s upgrades had done a lot to nullify the weapons inevitable overheating issues.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. I really should get him to look at the rifles too. She thought as she observed one of her people plinking away with single shots. It¡¯s such a waste to not be able fire automatically when the weapons are almost entirely without recoil. Of course, dragging Erich away from the suit would be a task in and of itself. As would negotiating him down from whatever extravagant fee he would no doubt charge for the service itself. It would be more than worth it, but it was still more than she was willing to spend. Hard-Light might have thought that money was of no importance to the organization, but he wasn¡¯t the one who balanced the books. They were well off, yes, but that was no call to spend money recklessly. Sarah watched dispassionately as one final fleeing figure tumbled to the pavement just outside the doors to the apartment complex, her back torn open and steaming where it had been struck by a laser. By her count, only about ten had made it inside, but it was possible there were more skinheads who had not taken part in the outside skirmish. ¡°Let¡¯s get moving.¡± She said as she rose up, ¡°We don¡¯t want to give them time to barricade the doors.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve got wounded, boss.¡± Smith trotted over, ¡°Jenny took a round to her shoulder.¡± Sarah looked over, Ah, the young girl with the faulty barrier. ¡°Will she survive another half hour?¡± She asked, returning her gaze to the door. Smith furrowed his brows, ¡°I¡¯m not a doctor so I couldn¡¯t¡­¡± Sarah sighed, ¡°Is she screaming and spraying blood everywhere? Or clammy and unconscious?¡± ¡°No, ma¡¯am.¡± The leader said. ¡°She¡¯s awake and complaining about it.¡± ¡°Then she¡¯ll live.¡± Sarah said decisively, ¡°Have someone help her back to the van and then catch up with us.¡± Smith frowned, but conveyed the orders to one of his teammates. A token attempt was being made to barricade the door from the other side when they arrived at the entrance of the apartment complex, but a few rounds through the flimsy metal doorway discouraged the defenders from continuing. ¡°Break it open.¡± She said as she heard the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps. One of her people shot open the lock, and then broke the door open with a few well-placed shoulder bashes. Letting a few of her people go in first, she stepped inside to discover the corpse of one unlucky defender, and no other members of the Brotherhood in sight. ¡°They must be either waiting for us further inside, or they¡¯re trying to escape out the back.¡± She surmised Part of her wished she¡¯d put people around the outside entrances to prepare against exactly that, but she didn¡¯t have enough people to maintain a proper assault and surround the place. Not if they encountered an enemy Meta. ¡°Right, let¡¯s get moving,¡± She said. As it turned out, they Brotherhood had hunkered down on the second level of all places - likely as a result of panic and the location of the lab. The end result of which was that the new firefight was taking place in a myriad of rundown halls and apartments. Sarah and her people were pulled into a drawn out game of cat and mouse as they were forced to hunt the skinheads down room by room. Which was actually to her people¡¯s advantage. Sure, the Nazis had the home field advantage, but the tight confines of the building¡¯s hallways acting as a natural funnel. And within the concrete jungle the Brotherhood were utterly incapable of bringing their superior numbers to bear. And even if they managed to get the drop on one of her people, their hard-light barriers were more than sufficient to let them sustain the surprise blow and turn it around on the unfortunate ambusher. As was the case when Sarah stepped into a room and physically collided with an assault rifle wielding young man, bowling them both to the ground. As she clambered to her feet, she noted that under different circumstances she might have considered the man across from to be very attractive. In a bulkier, more muscular, Erich sort of way. Of course, knowing that he was a Nazi did quite a bit to sour the appeal of his obvious muscles, chiseled jaw and high aristocratic features. Such a waste. With a sigh she launched forward to grab at him, one hand around his bare wrist, as he tried to bring his gun around. ¡°Do me a favor and don¡¯t shit yourself.¡± She hissed, looking into his startled eyes, just before she let rip with her power. Nothing ruined the elation of a good kill like the smell of freshly cooked human feces.
¡°We¡¯re done! We¡¯re done!¡± Erich sighed in relief as one stripper threw down her weapon. Then another. And another. Until finally every weapon not being held by a member of Hard-Light¡¯s crew was on the floor. The eight odd members that remained. Two of them had caught bullets during the firefight and definitely weren¡¯t getting back up. He assumed. He hadn''t really looked if he was totally honest. He had his own problems at the time. Speaking of which... Cautiously, he looked over at the readout on his shields. Thirty two percent. Too low. Much too low. Even with the shields still up, his left leg was moving a little slower than it should, which made him think something had managed to slip past the barrier system and damage the delicate joint. More importantly, his left pulse blaster was entirely out of commission after he overheated it barely five minutes into the fight. Not that I had much of a choice. Operational safety limits were one thing when you were drawing them up in the safety of your shop, quite another when some madwoman ran at you with a primed grenade. He deliberately looked away from the blackened smear that remained of said woman, along with much of the wall that had been behind her. Not that it was particularly out of place given the state of the building. The club, and the state of its occupants, reflected the carnage that had taken place there. If there was a single chair still intact or wall without a hole in it, he would be hard pressed to find it. ¡°On your knees. Hands on heads.¡± Grey drawled lazily, weapon still raised. The tired and bloody denizens of the building were slow to comply, but once they realized Erich''s people weren¡¯t going to gun them all down on the spot, they moved out into the open. As they did, Erich belatedly realized they weren¡¯t all sex workers. Some of the men who he had mistaken for male strippers originally were just more gangsters in the classic Brotherhood style. Either that, or they were the least sexy looking strippers he had ever seen. Not that he was any great expert on strippers, male or female. And it''s not like anyone''s looking sexy at the minute, He thought as he looked over the tear stained, bloody and traumatized faces staring back at him. As the surrendering defenders finally started to settle down, he noted one man had remained behind. He was an older geezer, one Erich hadn¡¯t even noticed prior to this moment. Likely because he wasn¡¯t armed, a scantily clad woman, or even standing up. Instead he sat in a wheelchair, a look of irritated disgust written all over his face. ¡°Well this turned out to be a pretty fucking useless hiding place.¡± The man said as he turned to look at Erich''s suit. He looked expectant, as if waiting for Erich to react in some way, but Erich had not a clue why. Instead he was debating the merits of threatening the wheelchair bound man into moving out into the open like everyone else. ¡°And of course, you don¡¯t even recognize me. Just typical.¡± The man snorted after a few moments had passed. At which point, one of Hard-Light¡¯s goons, who had been in the act of collecting up the discarded guns, happened to glance over. ¡°Holy shit!¡± The man said, dropping the weapons with a clatter as he shakily brought up his own. ¡°Integrity!¡± The shout brought the attention of all the others present, and they were just as quick to turn their eyes away from the other prisoners to focus their guns on the wheelchair bound man. Erich didn¡¯t blame them. As soon as he heard the man¡¯s name, he had been just as quick to bring up his own weapon. ¡°Now that¡¯s more like it.¡± The man grinned, eyes flashing in the clubs dim light, utterly uncaring of the way his people were squirming uncomfortably as the threat of imminent violence rose. ¡°What the fuck are you doing here?¡± Grey asked, the most calm of the bunch, but not by much. ¡°I don¡¯t answer to the help.¡± The man sneered, turning his eyes back to Erich. ¡°Surrenders should happen villain to villain.¡± Erich could care less. ¡°Why are you here, Integrity?¡± He repeated, keeping a stutter from his own voice only through sheer force of will. "Why''s the leader of the Brotherhood hiding out in a shitty strip club... and using strippers for muscle." Rocket launcher armed strippers. Of all the ways he might have gone out. Besides, the defenders here had been reasonably competent, but not nearly competent enough to justify the sheer amount of hardware he could see strewn around the room. This was the kind of stuff you gave out to your core membership, not some recently press ganged sex workers. And that didn''t even address the fact that Integrity hadn''t entered the fray. The man was supposed to be an incredibly powerful speedster. Although, not anymore, clearly. Erich realized as he looked over the man¡¯s wheelchair bound state; more or less answering his own question and feeling like an idiot in the process. ¡°Why, I would have thought it was obvious.¡± The man chuckled, arms going wide to encompass the room. ¡°This is one of the last remaining strongholds of the True Brotherhood in this town.¡± The man¡¯s smile faded slightly, but Erich could still see some bitter amusement in his eyes, ¡°Although, I imagine if Hard-Light¡¯s newest pet is here, my other operations are receiving similar visits. Would fit right in with everything else our new mutual friend has done.¡± Erich said nothing, but somehow the man seemed to take that as an affirmative. ¡°Well done then,¡± The crippled supervillain sneered. ¡°You¡¯ve done the Hangman¡¯s dirty work for him.¡± Erich frowned, "Who the fuck is the Hangman?" Integrity gave him a malicious grin, "I''m pretty sure you people call him the ''Ghost''." Chapter Fifteen ¡°Well this is a bitch and a half.¡± Gravity murmured as she sat at the meeting table. Sarah sent a glare in her half sister¡¯s direction, but ultimately couldn¡¯t argue. It was a bitch and a half. ¡°Any news from Hard-Light?¡± Erich asked tiredly. ¡°Fortunately for you, no.¡± Sarah said acidly, seeing an outlet for her irritation, as she looked over the map. It was much changed from that morning; the red markers that had once indicated Brotherhood business and residences were now divided into yellows for New Brotherhood and black for True Brotherhood. And there were significantly more yellow markers on the table than black. Including a number of new ones that Integrity was all too happy to point out. Though Sarah was going to be sending out some of her own people to confirm that fact. The events of the last two days had only served to reinforce that they needed far more information about what was going on in the city. ¡°You really think he¡¯s going to be that pissed?¡± Erich asked, a tinge of worry piercing through his lethargy. ¡°He¡¯s not going to be happy.¡± Gravity said sympathetically, ¡°He¡¯s usually pretty clear on the ¡®no prisoners¡¯ thing.¡± ¡°Integrity¡¯s a valuable source of information.¡± Erich pointed out, defending his decision to bring the wheelchair bound man back alive. "Bringing someone back alive was supposed to be our objective." Although he had only done so after ensuring the man really was wheel chair bound. By breaking one of his legs. He still felt a small shudder run through him each time he remembered the sound of bone splintering under his suit¡¯s fingers, while the Neo-Nazi had looked on with that same mildly amused patronizing look in his eyes. ¡°Yes, he is. Hard-Light won¡¯t have any issue with you bringing him along.¡± Sarah''s glare redoubled as she looked at him. ¡°What he¡¯s going to be pissed about is that you let the rest of his people go.¡± ¡°I took their guns.¡± Erich defended sullenly. ¡°Oh yes, because its so hard to find more guns in this city.¡± The blonde said sarcastically. ¡°All you¡¯ve done is given us more people to fight later down the line.¡± Erich wanted to argue that but couldn¡¯t. She was right after all. Still, it wasn¡¯t like he¡¯d had many options. He couldn¡¯t just¡­ gun them all down. And neither could he bring them all back with him. It had been difficult enough fitting everyone into their one remaining van and getting out of there before the cops showed up. ¡°Erich¡¯s unexpected nobility aside,¡± Gravity butted in, saving him from any further tongue lashings, ¡°has Integrity said anything else?¡± Sarah sighed, but reluctantly returned to the topic at hand. ¡°Plenty.¡± She said, ¡°In fact, it¡¯s been difficult shutting him up.¡± Erich could see that being the case. The man was more than just a little bitter about his organization being usurped right out from under him. Being betrayed by friends and colleagues you¡¯ve known for years will have a tendency of doing that to you. ¡°He¡¯s convinced this ¡®Hangman¡¯ has some kind of mind-control ability.¡± Sarah said. ¡°Mind control¡¯s a myth.¡± Gravity scoffed, ¡°His people were bought off by this new guy. Simple as that. Brotherhood might act like they have some holier than thou ¡®noble mission¡¯ but at the end of the day they¡¯re all just bottom feeding scum like the rest of us.¡± Erich couldn¡¯t help but feel Gravity was a little biased on the subject. Understandably so though. He doubted he would have a high opinion of a group that wanted to essentially exterminate everyone that even remotely resembled him. More than that, Gravity had proven to be less than objective on the subject of the Brotherhood before. Like the time she took us all out to a restaurant, despite knowing their was a good chance we would be attacked there. He thought, as he considered his second, and last, meeting with the Crusher. ¡°Perhaps.¡± Sarah allowed, ¡°But that doesn¡¯t explain one of our own people going turncoat as well. Three of the people who I have gathering information for me disappeared after we got back from the last outing.¡± Needless to say, they were the same three people who had helped select the group¡¯s targets for the last attack. Targets which had all turned out to be of great value to the True Brotherhood faction. Which is most certainly not a coincidence, Erich thought grimly. ¡°That just proves our people aren¡¯t much better.¡± Gravity muttered, ¡°Show them some cash, and they¡¯re pretty quick to switch allegiances.¡± Sarah glared venomously at her half-sister, but ultimately was forced to once more concede that she had a point. They were a band of criminals who were held together more by fear of Hard-Light, poor circumstances, and a love of money, rather than any great sense of camaraderie. A Hard-Light who was currently missing, and had been for two days now. Morale wasn¡¯t quite at rock bottom at the compound, but it wasn¡¯t far off either. It certainly didn¡¯t help that both teams accompanying the villain had disappeared with him, leaving the organization''s standing ¡®soldiery¡¯ at a measly thirty or so people. No one had quite suggested aloud that the organization¡¯s powerhouse, and the most powerful meta in the city, had been taken down, but it was certainly going through everyone¡¯s heads. ¡°It¡¯s not a total loss.¡± Erich said, ¡°We now know where all that medical equipment was supposed to go.¡±This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Although not even Integrity had known what its purpose was. ¡°Doesn¡¯t do us much good.¡± Gravity muttered as she scooped up one of the yellow monopoly pieces. ¡°We don¡¯t really have the manpower to attack the place.¡± Especially not with the Hangman still out there. The fact that they had a name for the guy now was nice, but given what they now knew, the name Hangman was even more terrifying for the rank and file than the enigmatic Ghost had ever been. ¡­Not that any of this was of any concern to Erich anymore. He was playing the part, but he already had a van back at his shop loaded up with tools. Now that he had the suit, and his bank account was nicely full, he was just waiting for confirmation that Hard-Light was definitely dead. Then he was getting the fuck out of here. No way he was going down with this sinking ship. Still, a part of him regretted it. He wasn¡¯t much for people, but Sarah and Olivia had¡­ grown on him. Unstable and twisted as they were. He listened with half an ear to the rest of the meeting, saying the right things when prompted as Sarah went through the rest of what they knew and made tentative plans to bunker down and wait for Hard-Light to resurface. Sorry girls, He thought as he strode from the meeting room, I¡¯m just not the heroic type.
¡°Come on, Erich.¡± Gravity said as she handed him a pair of pliers. ¡°I need something to upgrade my power.¡± Erich sighed as he set about stripping a wire. ¡°Gravity, I get where you¡¯re coming from. I really do. But do I, or do I not, look like I have enough on my plate right now?¡± The teams accompanying Hard-Light had been the ones carrying his ¡®upgraded¡¯ laser pistols, as they had been the ones most likely to face stiff resistance. As a result the only ones still available were strapped to his, Sarah¡¯s and Gravity¡¯s thighs. And none of them were giving theirs up to a random mook, despite being the ones who probably least needed them. As a result, Erich was sequestered down in the mansion¡¯s garage, with a small crate of spare electrical components stolen from Hard-Light¡¯s workshop... upgrading laser rifles. Which Gravity was ostensibly supposed to be helping him with. ¡°Can¡¯t you think of something?¡± Gravity whined, ¡°She¡¯s calling herself Bronte now!¡± Yes. Bronte. Erich thought that naming oneself after an actual goddess was a little shameless, but it was also perfectly in keeping with what he knew of Sarah''s ego. ¡°I¡¯m busy.¡± He said through gritted teeth. Mostly with planning my escape and sequestering away my earnings, but still busy! ¡°With this?¡± Gravity said, raising a half constructed laser rifle. ¡°This¡¯ll take you a few hours if that.¡± ¡°I still have to repair the suit.¡± Erich pointed out. Gravity shook her head. ¡°No you don¡¯t. Sarah¡¯s having Grey look it over. She figures the woman''s been watching you for the last few days, so she¡¯ll at least know how to recharge the batteries and put in fresh coolant.¡± Erich felt like his heart stopped within his chest. ¡°She didn¡¯t!¡± He gasped. No one touched his suit. Least of all an¡­ uneducated thug! Sorry Grey, but it''s true. He was halfway though storming from the room when he felt a familiar sense of weightlessness overtake his body. ¡°Put me down woman!¡± He roared as he struggled against the strange green light. ¡°Sarah thought you¡¯d react that way when you found out.¡± Gravity sighed, ¡°Look Erich, I know you love the suit. Perhaps even a little more than is strictly healthy. But we can¡¯t have you obsessing over it like you usually do. We just don¡¯t have the time to indulge it.¡± Obsess? Him? He didn''t obsess! He gave things the exact amount of time and attention they deserved, and not a moment more. ¡°Don¡¯t give me that look.¡± Gravity frowned, ¡°She¡¯s literally just changing the coolant and shoving in fresh power-packs. Even a monkey could do it.¡± Erich did have to concede that point. It was something even a monkey could do. ¡°Fine.¡± He sighed tiredly. ¡°Just put me down, so I can finish off those rifles.¡± ¡°And invent something to give me a boost over my sister?¡± Gravity chimed in hopefully. Erich gave her a look as he slowly dropped back down to the ground. ¡°You¡¯ve never cared that much about it before?¡± Sure, she had whined and moaned, but never for long. It was more in jest than anything else. She shrugged, ¡°Is it really that strange? Hard-Light¡¯s missing. Nearly half our crew is gone. And we¡¯ve got some new psychopath in charge of the Brotherhood.¡± Well, when you put it that way¡­ ¡°Fine.¡± He groused as he returned back to his temporary worktable, ¡°After I¡¯m done with this.¡± And it¡¯s certainly not going to be cheap! He almost instantly regretted his decision as the grinning woman wrapped him in a hug. "No hugs!"
Erich looked over his suit with a critical eye, flicking back and forth between it and the omni-pad on the table. ¡°There, see?¡± Gravity said, Grey indignantly nodding along with her, ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± Erich ignored them both. Uneducated philistines that they were. Only after a full two minutes of silent inspection did he have to concede that was right. Probably. ¡°There, now get back to work on my new gizmo.¡± Gravity grinned, gesturing at the work table where a half-constructed shoulder harness sat. ¡°I am.¡± He grunted, lifting up a partially disassembled laser pistol in his hands. ¡°You weren¡¯t even looking at it.¡± She accused, ¡°I¡¯m not having you half-ass it after the amount you charged me for it!¡± Yes. Him announcing the price for his time and effort had gone quite some distance toward cooling the woman¡¯s joviality after he agreed to even work on it at all. ¡°I don¡¯t ¡®half-ass¡¯ anything.¡± He said indignantly as he finished tightening a screw, still not looking at the weapon in his hands. Which was why he saw Grey rolling her eyes from off to the side. ¡°Can I leave now? It¡¯s nearly midnight.¡± Erich reluctantly nodded, gesturing for her to go with a casual wave of his hand. Which the woman accepted with only the slightest of scowls. ¡°Would it kill you to be a bit more polite?¡± Gravity asked as she leaned back on a stool, watching their colleague disappear back into the mansion. ¡°She touched my suit. Without my permission.¡± He said, as if that explained everything. ¡°You originally planned to sell it.¡± Gravity pointed out. Yes. He thought. And then your Dad forced me to pilot it on a whim. So forgive me if I¡¯m a little overprotective of the only device standing between me and perforation by the next Meta-Gunner that doesn¡¯t like the look of me! Instead of saying all that, he just sniffed again, and turned his head away. Gravity looked like she was about to say something else but stopped before the first word left her mouth. Instead she reached for her earpiece, as a complicated look stole over her face. Erich watched, his guts turning to ice water as his hands slowly stopped screwing the laser pistol back together. When Gravity finally took her hand away from her ear, it was to give him a steely look. ¡°Drop that. Sarah wants us in the meeting room.¡± She said without preamble. Erich was about to ask why, but the sound of an alarm ringing through the mansion pretty much answered his question for him. ¡°We¡¯re under attack, aren¡¯t we?¡± He asked with a put-upon sigh. Well, it was a good thing I managed to get those new rifles finished. He thought blearily, his body crying out for sleep he knew it would not be receiving any time soon. Chapter Sixteen "It would seem the ¡®New Brotherhood¡¯ has decided to capitalize on our temporary moment of weakness." Sarah said as soon as Gravity and Erich joined the three other team leaders at the meeting table. ¡°I¡¯ve received a number of reports that over the last few hours that armed individuals we assume to be part of the New Brotherhood have been trickling into public areas not far removed from the mansion. As of the last hour, a rough head count has suggested more than a hundred are now present, if spread out over a number of different locations.¡± Sarah placed a number of red tokens on a new, much smaller, map. ¡°I have no doubt that this assault is intended to cripple our organization permanently while Hard-Light is¡­ out of contact.¡± Two of the team leaders shared nervous glances at that, but Grey simply stared on in mute acceptance. Gravity wasn¡¯t quite as subtle with her summary of the situation, ¡°So we¡¯re hopelessly outnumbered and ¡®Daddy¡¯ isn¡¯t around to bail us out. Great. When and how are these guys planning to arrive?¡± ¡°If past habits hold true, the second night falls. And as for, transport? They probably plan to walk.¡± Lopez said as he looked over the map. ¡°Most of these places aren¡¯t that far away.¡± Sarah looked a bit irritated by the interruption, but nodded. ¡°Yes. As far as we can tell they used their own means of transport to arrive at these rallying points, but intend to move as one mob toward us.¡± Erich swore. That pretty much ruled out ambushing their vehicles during transit. It would have been a handy way of staggering them, if not wiping out large numbers of them entirely in one fell swoop. He knew his force blasters would do nasty things to a truck or bus if he put enough juice into them. Funny, He thought, once upon a time that might have made me feel queasy. ¡°Any Metas amongst them?¡± Asked the final team leader, a man who¡¯s name Erich couldn¡¯t quite remember. Something starting with an ¡®S¡¯. Sarah shook her head, ¡°None that are known to us.¡± Which meant sweet fuck all if the New Brotherhood had been hiring on new people. Some Metas developed abilities that resulted in visible changes in their body, such as scales, fur or metal skin, but most looked just like anyone else. He also doubted a group like the Brotherhood would be willing to accept any of the poor sods who developed visible mutations. Not that the rest of the world is much better in that regard. ¡°Any chance we can call in the cops to disrupt them before they get here?¡± Erich asked as he turned his mind back to the task at hand. The, to his mind, perfectly reasonable question, drew incredulous looks from everyone present. ¡°The cops will certainly show up.¡± Sarah said finally, ¡°but only after everything is over. They¡¯re more than happy to let us all kill each other before coming in to clean up what¡¯s left. To their mind, it¡¯s better we all kill each other than them risk their lives trying to break it up.¡± Erich figured that would be the case. ¡°Worth a shot.¡± He shrugged, ¡°I assume that it¡¯s the same for the North Granton Defenders?¡± Gravity¡¯s scoff was all the answer he needed to that question. The local Guild affiliated hero team was even more corrupt and ineffective than the cops. It seemed that barely a week went by without one of them being caught up in at least one scandal. ¡°Right, so what¡¯s the plan to see us through the night?¡± He asked, resisting the urge to make a dash for one of the vans in the garage. He figured he would have a better chance of escaping at some point during the coming battle. ¡°We¡¯ve still got twenty eight experienced guns to throw at them and three Metas. That¡¯s nothing to sneeze at.¡± Sarah said. ¡°Plus the mansion¡¯s automated defenses.¡± Erich tactfully refrained from pointing out that he wasn¡¯t a meta. Just a dude in a set of power armor. And how come no one told me this place had automated defenses? He¡¯d certainly never seen any. Though he supposed that was probably part of the design. Still, it stung his professional pride as an engineer that he hadn¡¯t even gotten an inkling that the place had any defense beyond the intimidating reputation of its owner. ¡°We can arm the staff and the bottom feeders.¡± Grey said. ¡°They¡¯ll all be green as hell, but even a newbie can guard a hallway and fire a few rounds downrange before they catch a bullet.¡± Gravity looked a bit uncomfortable, but Sarah nodded. ¡°Good idea. If we¡¯re lucky we might be able to replenish our core membership from those who do well.¡± Assuming any of them survive, Erich thought cynically before another thought occurred to him. Hell, assuming any of us survive¡­ Just throwing caution to the wind and running like hell was looking more and more tempting by the moment. ¡°That¡¯s still not all that many,¡± Gravity frowned, ¡°We¡¯re going to have to pull completely back to the mansion if we want to cover everything.¡± Erich frowned, ¡°If we completely give up the outside, what¡¯s to stop them from just burning the place down with us inside.¡± Sarah shook her head, ¡°The building may look old, but it¡¯s all superficial. All of the building materials are as modern as you can get. The place won¡¯t burn easily, if at all.¡± Well, that was a load off his mind. He still had nightmares about the Crusher¡¯s death, and he had no desire to experience a similar fate first-hand. ¡°Right, so we just have to hold out long enough for Hard-Light to return, or until the cops can no longer reasonably ignore what¡¯s happening.¡± Gravity said. Sarah nodded determinedly, ¡°Grey¡¯s team and I, are covering the main entrance hall. Sam, I want you to put at least two people on every possible side and servant entrance. Supplement your guys with staff if you have to. Gravity, you and Lopez are going to be part of our reserve team, shore us up wherever the Brotherhood start to push.¡± To Erich¡¯s mild surprise, Gravity didn¡¯t argue. She accepted her half-sister¡¯s commands without complaint. ¡°What about me?¡± Erich asked as Sarah trailed off. He watched on in mild confusion as the blonde woman seemed to mull the question over for what felt like a very long time. ¡°I need you to take some of the staff and cover the escape tunnel.¡± Erich¡¯s heart skipped a beat. Seeing the glances being passed around the room, it seemed he wasn¡¯t the only one who was ignorant of said tunnels existence. ¡°I normally wouldn¡¯t mention it,¡± Sarah growled, ¡°but given that a few of our people have gone turncoat in recent days, it isn¡¯t impossible that they are aware of it, and might use it as a point of entry.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t get too comfortable Mechromancer,¡± Gravity sniggered, ¡°If the battle drags on long enough without any indication of trouble on your end, you can bet your ass Sarah¡¯s going to have you relocate to the fight¡¯s biggest hotspot.¡± Erich felt the grin that had been slowly growing on his face wither and die as Sarah nodded from her spot at the end of the table.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°I¡¯m still down to one force blaster.¡± He attempted to say, only for Sarah to cut him off. ¡°Then you still have one more than anyone else in this mansion has.¡± Seeing that there was no way he was getting out of his secondary duty, he found himself hoping for the Brotherhood to attack the escape tunnel. At least if they did, he¡¯d be nice and hunkered down with some meat shields to hide behind, rather than being forced to wander from hotspot to hotspot. ¡°I¡¯m assuming this escape tunnel is in the wine cellar?¡± He sighed. Sarah nodded reluctantly. ¡°Great,¡± He continued, ¡°I¡¯ll need some help moving stuff we can use as cover down there. I¡¯ll probably also be grabbing my defenders from the staff at the same time.¡± Hopefully he could grab a few that looked halfway reliable before the others scooped them all up. Sarah waved her hands, as if to say he was dismissed. ¡°Grey, go with him. I¡¯ll take your team with me, and you can lead Erich¡¯s. Show him where the tunnel entrance is while you¡¯re at it.¡± Erich was almost offended that he wasn¡¯t trusted to lead his own team, as the taciturn woman rose with a silent nod. He knew it was the right choice though. He had zero leadership experience, and even worse social skills. Besides, at least this way I have one reasonably competent meat shield to hide behind. It was all about looking out for the positives. Like the fact that he was about to be stationed right next to the escape tunnel. Possible point of ingress for the enemy or not, that was some pretty amazing luck. Though I¡¯ll probably have to kill Grey if I decide I¡¯ve got to escape. That put something of a damper on his plans for freedom in the event things started going poorly. Could I do that? Stab an ¡®ally¡¯ in the back in cold-blood? His conscious mind quibbled back and forth over the question, but in his heart of hearts he knew exactly what he would do. Perhaps not without hesitation, but certainly without a doubt.
¡°Move, or I start moving you.¡± Erich said, his suit¡¯s speakers giving him an even more ominous tone than he intended. The gaggle of lackeys he had collected together glanced back and forth between his massive suit and the stairs down into the cellar. ¡°Move.¡± He said, charging up his single force blaster with an ominous whine. Even if the other one was still operational, he couldn¡¯t have used it at as one hand was holding a massive rucksack. Still the sound of just one of the weapons charging up prove d to be enough, and the group of five clambered down the steps into the gloom, hands fearfully clutching the weapons in their hands. Erich had zero sympathy for them. All of them were parasites. People that clung to core members of the gang as their entourage, basking in the second hand power it gave them to associate with members of the criminal underworld. Besides, even as lackeys they were all members of the gang, and displayed the colors proudly. The only issue was that none of them had ever actually had to do anything before besides stand around and look menacing or run simple errands for their criminal masters. Hell, he might have been worried about one of them shooting him in the back and trying to make a run for it if he thought they had a little more spine. Not that he was any better. He was planning to do the exact same thing after all. Just a few more rungs up the totem pole, He thought with cynical amusement. The main difference between them was that he had half a ton of power armor and they didn¡¯t. Which was all that mattered in the end. Knowledge might be power. Money might be power. But at the end of the day the only real power was power. ¡°You need to work on your leadership skills.¡± Grey murmured from her position leaned up against a nearby wall, heavily tattooed arms crossed tightly over her chest. ¡°I¡¯m not a leader.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m an engineer.¡± She shook her head, ¡°You¡¯re a supervillain and part of this gang. That makes you a leader whether you like it or not.¡± Well aren¡¯t you chatty today, He thought. ¡°Get in the hole.¡± He muttered, unwilling to concede that she had a point. Still, the way the lithe young woman smiled as she strode down past him, told him that she knew she¡¯d won that little bout. If he wasn¡¯t about to be relying on her to keep any of their newfound unwilling allies from turning their guns on him when things inevitably got hot, he would have been half tempted to give her a little shove as he started descending the stairs as well. He hated losing. He could grovel, beg, and writhe in the dirt like a worm if he had to. But losing? Losing got to him. By the time his slow ass thunked down into the wine cellar, Grey was already directing her surly workers to set up barricades across from what looked to be a perfectly normal wall. Since he doubted it was supposed to be blasted open in the event it was ever supposed to be used, Erich could only assume it would slide open at the behest of some unseen command console. ¡°Drop the bag.¡± She said as he thudded over, which he dutifully did, still entirely ignorant of the thing¡¯s contents. He watched on with mild interest as she pulled out a ballistic blanket and passed it off to a watching goon. ¡°Drape that over whatever barrel you¡¯re planning on hiding behind.¡± She said, before repeating the action for the next four to wander over. ¡°It won¡¯t stop a laser or a force blaster.¡± He pointed out as soon as they were of earshot. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it have been better to build some mobile barrier projectors?¡± ¡°Do you think any of these people are valuable enough to our employer that he would buy a surplus of equipment to build barrier projectors?¡± Grey said as she draped her own ballistic blanket over a barrel ¨C before going to stand behind a much sturdier looking stone pillar. Well¡­ no. Grey snorted. ¡°There¡¯s a reason the world¡¯s still using old world tech for most stuff. Meta-tech is just too high goddamned maintenance to be cost effective past a certain level.¡± Erich wanted to point out that people like him could fix those problems, but he knew that was patently untrue. Sure, he could reduce problems in Meta-tech, but at the end of the day, it was still Meta-tech, with all the issues inherent with it. Not least of which is that one required a frankly incredible amount of education in a number of different fields to even contemplate peaking inside a device and having the faintest clue as to what was going on. Which would be even more compounded by the fact that two Meta-tech devices, even from the same Artificer, could have wildly different design principles despite being made to perform the same purpose. Yes, he could see why Hard-Light might just grab some ballistic blankets instead of a more effective, and thus proportionally more expensive alternative. Now that I think about it, I¡¯m actually amazed he even thought to invest in defenses at all. The more he thought about it, the more he came to believe that Sarah, or Bronte, was the one to buy the ballistic blankets and store them away for an occasion like this. He started as the wall in front of him started to peel back, revealing a wide dark tunnel leading off into the distance. From the look of it, it must have been a repurposed part of the city¡¯s old sewer system. ¡°Why are you opening it?¡± One of the goons asked incredulously. ¡°It¡¯s an open tunnel.¡± Grey said phlegmatically to the lightly clad young woman, ¡°No cover. Good kill zone for us.¡± And it was better for them if they saw their attackers coming, rather than have the first indication of their existence be the door sliding open to reveal a horde of well-armed racists. ¡°As the degenerate half-breed said. ¡°A familiar voice asked from the darkness to Erich¡¯s right, startling him as well as the goons. ¡°So with that in mind, any chance I could get a gun?¡± Grey hadn¡¯t reacted at all to the voice, beyond a slight tightening of her vaguely Hispanic features. ¡°Would you give you a gun?¡± Erich asked, after calming his racing heart, and realizing Grey wasn¡¯t going to say anything. ¡°Figured it was worth a shot.¡± Integrity chuckled croakily. He was a sad sight. Filthy, with his unmoving legs splayed out beneath him as he sat with his back to a pole, a bike-lock of all things wrapped around his neck. Outwardly he seemed calm, despite his squalid conditions, but Erich could see the rage in the man¡¯s eyes. He could understand it as well, even if he had no sympathy for the former supervillain. The guy had once been the leader of one of the most powerful gangs in the city, as well as one of its more powerful Metas. Now he was crippled, powerless, stuck in a basement, chained up with a bike-lock, and there was a very real possibility that he was about to be discovered by the subordinates that had betrayed him in the first place. Unarmed and defenseless. Racist old scumbag or not, that has to suck. Hell, he had to give the old bastard credit for holding it all in, rather than sitting there raging away at them. He didn¡¯t know if he could have had the same self-control in similar circumstances. Actually, that was a lie. He knew he wouldn¡¯t. Erich might have said something else, but he was interrupted by Grey who had one hand to her ear. ¡°Everyone get into position.¡± She said quietly, ¡°Sarah says the New Brotherhood have finally started to move.¡± Erich checked his internal clock, and saw that it was nine o¡¯clock on the dot. Like clockwork, He thought uncomfortably, charging up his force blaster once more, if only to hear its soothing hum. Chapter Seventeen I don¡¯t know whether to be relieved or horrified, Erich wondered as he saw lights bobbing in the distance. It seemed that true to form, the New Brotherhood had far more information than they should, and were entirely aware of the ''secret'' escape tunnel. Either way, the prospect of imminent violence was a welcome reprieve from sitting in the dark waiting nervously for something to happen. For the last few minutes he¡¯d been listening to the sounds of fighting going on above. By all indications it was going well for the defenders. All of the entry points were holding, and so far there had been no indications of a meta human presence amongst the attackers. Whether that meant that the New Brotherhood had none remaining beyond the Hangman, or that they were being held in reserve, no one knew. Either way, it was giving Hard-Light¡¯s crew ample time to cut down the attacking chaff. Should I even call it that anymore? He pondered as he trained his weapon on one of the flashlights bobbing in the distance. With Hard-Light missing, isn¡¯t it Bronte¡¯s crew? He supposed, if the man really was missing, their wasn¡¯t much point in renaming the gang. Even with Sarah¡¯s leadership, it probably wouldn¡¯t be around long enough to warrant a name change anyway. "Wait for them to come into range." Grey¡¯s voice whispered over the comms. ¡°With any luck we can take them all in the first salvo.¡± Just like his, her hard-light barriers were offline. The powerful protective system would have been obvious in the pitch black of the cellar, and would have given away their planned ambush. Normally, that would have been a perfectly fine trade off, but given that none of the other people with them had the advanced barrier system, Grey decided that blanketing everyone with concealment was better than leaving two people with great protection and everyone else without any. Erich didn¡¯t quite agree with that line of thought, but he was willing to concede that he was a less than objective observer, given that he would have been one of those amply protected people. The most amply protected, he thought grimly as he watched the lights come ever closer. Not that they were all he could see. His suit had built in night-vision as a given, so he could see the approaching Brotherhood gangsters in reasonable detail. Despite being part of what should have been a surprise attack, they were little different from the other thugs he had come across in his time with Hard-Light. They were dressed in casual clothes, wielding an assortment of weapons, and moving as more of a mob than a disciplined unit. No rocket launchers, he noted with relief. Just the usual assortment of small-arms. Which he promptly relayed to Grey, along with a rough count of their numbers. The olive-skinned woman nodded, ¡°Get ready.¡± Erich whispered into his suit, ¡°Aim assist on.¡± ¡°Acknowledged.¡± Gravity¡¯s voice intoned through the suit''s speakers, Erich¡¯s arm locking up as the limb moved to follow the reticule linked to his eye. Erich centred it on a young woman who was near the front of the pack. She was covered in tattoos affirming her allegiances and prejudices to the world, but in that moment he could only think of how young she looked. He would be surprised if she was even a day over eighteen. ¡°Fire.¡± Grey¡¯s voice echoed loudly through the darkness. Erich felt the recoil shoot through his arm as his weapon fired, the bolt of energy released striking the young woman straight in the midsection. Given the tightly packed nature of their foes, he had overcharged the weapon in advance, so the resulting blast struck not just his target, but people behind her as well. He found to his surprise that he felt nothing as he surveyed the gore. No shame. No horror. No guilt. Even the nausea was a tired muted thing. Humans are such adaptable creatures, he thought*.* Still, he felt some small tinge of envy for the lackeys to his left and right. Given the darkness of the tunnel, they saw none of their handiwork as they opened fire. Hell, they didn¡¯t even really see what they were shooting at. They shot at distant lights rather than people. Intellectually of course, they would know they were shooting at people, but it was still a very different sensation to see a light falling in the distance rather than a human being. By the time he was ready to fire again, the short firefight was all but over. Caught completely out in the open, the Brotherhood members had been massacred to the last within moments of the first shot ringing out. A group of ten reduced to zero in seconds. He had to give credit to her, Grey knew what she was talking about. I wonder what her history is? He dismissed the idle thought as soon as it came up. It didn¡¯t matter. He was going to be gone soon enough. A new identity. Perhaps he would go by John this time? "Right." Erich said once he was sure every one of their attackers were dead - something only he could confirm with his night vision, "That¡¯s that.¡± Rather anti-climactic really. ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± Grey said as she heard the telltale sounds of someone fumbling for a torch. ¡°More may show up.¡± Which meant the lackeys were going to be sitting in the dark for even longer. Alone with their thoughts. Erich wasn¡¯t totally sure that was a good idea. The people with them weren¡¯t soldiers. They hadn¡¯t killed before. Even with just a quick glance around, he could see similar symptoms to what he experienced after his first kill. Fear. Nausea. Disgust. Not the kind of things you wanted the people you might need in a few minutes to be dwelling on. ¡°Don¡¯t you think it might be a good idea to give them a breather?¡± He asked as he heard the telltale sounds of someone throwing up. Hopefully they didn¡¯t do that right next to their cover, otherwise we¡¯re all going to be stuck with that smell for a while. And considering the stagnant nature of the air down in the cellar - and the fact that they had an open door to an old sewer system right next to them - the air quality was pretty piss-poor where they were at to begin with. Grey shrugged, ¡°They don¡¯t have to be happy. They just have to shoot when I tell them to, at what I tell them to.¡± Well, I tried. If Erich could have shrugged within the confines of his suit, he would. It wasn¡¯t like he cared about anyone''s mental health beyond his immediate needs. He just didn¡¯t want an emotional breakdown taking one of their fighters out before the next attack happened. Although we might get lucky and have there be no next attack, he hoped. Although given that he was stationed down here, he doubted that would be the case. It wasn¡¯t like Sarah would keep him out of the fight as a result of their ¡®relationship¡¯.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. The suit was now the gang¡¯s heaviest hitter, given that Hard-Light was gone. Sarah didn¡¯t have the luxury of keeping it out of the fight even if she wanted to. Which she definitely didn¡¯t. Tentative feelings of¡­ affection he may have felt for the unstable woman aside, he was well aware that she was using him. Any affection she might display was probably faked. A ploy to pull him over to her side. There just wasn¡¯t a hell of a lot he could do about it besides ride it out. ¡­or get the hell out of dodge, he thought as his mind swung back around to his burgeoning escape plan. A plan he could put into motion the second Hard-Light was confirmed to be dead. ...Maybe Gravity might want to come with? She¡¯s not exactly enamored with the whole villainy thing? He ruthlessly slapped down that line of thought as soon as it registered. It would be a stupid risk. An unneeded one that could have dire consequences if Gravity was even slightly more loyal to her father¡¯s organization than he thought. Never should have thought of it, he groused. All this¡­ social contact was making him strange. Weak. ¡°We¡¯ve got another wave incoming.¡± Grey hissed, as more lights filled the tunnel. ¡°Great." Erich sighed. I really need to get out of this place, he reaffirmed in his mind, as his targeting reticule centered over another person¡¯s face. An older man this time.
Gravity sighed as she gunned down another target, which proved to be enough to send the rest scampering back into the trees surrounding the estate. Around her, other members of Lopez¡¯s team continued to fire at the fleeing skinheads, but Gravity refrained. She hated the racist punks as much as the next guy, but she found something inherently distasteful about shooting someone in the back. "This is Gravity, we¡¯ve repulsed the assault on the west servants entrance. Still no sign of Meta presence.¡± She said into her comm unit. ¡°Confirmed.¡± Sarah¡¯s business-like voice answered, ¡°They¡¯re pulling back from the main entrance hall as well. No Metas here, and Grey says it¡¯s much the same down in the cellar.¡± So, they had known about the escape tunnel. That was worrying. She had always known the gang was something of a sieve when it came to information, but the escape tunnel¡¯s existence was very much on a need to know basis. Still, that was Sarah¡¯s problem to worry about. Not hers. ¡°Stay vigilant everyone,¡± Sarah said over the mansion wide line, ¡°That first attack was probably a probe to test our defenses. We can expect whatever Metas they have to come in with the second attack.¡± Still, it took a good five minutes of tense waiting for the second assault to come. It was an unusually long amount of time given that most conflicts between criminal factions were brief and bloody affairs. An inevitable result of the attacker¡¯s need to be in and out before a police or Guild response was mustered. The cops might drag their feet when it came to responding, but they would show up eventually; if only to maintain the rapidly disintegrating fiction that law and order was being maintained within the city. ¡°Should we redeploy?¡± Lopez asked deferentially as shadowy figures flitted through the treeline across from them. ¡°Nah,¡± Gravity shook her head carelessly, ¡°If Sa- Bronte, wants us to move, she¡¯ll tell us. We can pull out when that happens.¡± Besides, she¡¯d much rather be doing something useful, as opposed to sitting around waiting for the call. This time their enemies were far more cautious on their approach. Rather than striding across the lawn as if they owned the place - assuming it to be all but defenseless with Hard-Light missing ¨C they mostly stuck to the cover of the tree line and took potshots. ¡°Not going to do you much good though,¡± She said as she eyed one particular figure who seemed to be yelling orders to the others. ¡°John, you ready?¡± The team¡¯s best marksman nodded, bringing his scoped laser rifle smoothly up to his shoulder as he rested the cruck of it against the window frame. Gravity felt her power pass through her, her mind turning blank as she focused on the sensation of lifting the distant body up into the air. As her power worked, the world became simpler. Not a place of humans, grass and trees. Just mass. Mass and movement. Distantly she heard a crackle of ionized air and felt the mass she was lifting lessen as some of it dissipated explosively into vapor. Recognizing the signal for what it was, her power faded, and once more she was back in the regular world. Things were more than abstract concepts of shape, size and weight once again. ¡°Good job,¡± She breathed, as she spied the distant downed figure that mere moments ago she had lifted into the air. ¡°Ready for the next one?¡± She grinned. The man nodded. ¡°Right,¡± She said, firing up her power once more as she spied her next target. It was around the fifth such repeating of this pattern that Sarah¡¯s voice came over the comms, disrupting her concentration and sending her target clattering to the ground before he had even really been lifted. The blonde woman yelled, ¡°Trucks incoming! Approaching the front entrance at speed! Mechromancer and Gravity, get the fuck over here!¡± Gravity hissed with irritation, before scooping up her gun. ¡°That¡¯s our cue people!¡± She yelled, crouch walking back toward the hall, ¡°Reserve team, relocate to the main entrance immediately!¡±
¡°Fucking run!¡± Sarah yelled as she realized with horror what the truck¡¯s plan was. Already her people were scrambling back, and she joined them just in time. The first truck crashed into the front steps of the mansion and continued onward, momentum carrying it into the front door of the mansion with enough weight and force to crash through them, and much of the wall they were attached to. The entire mansion shook with the impact, Sarah and her people being sent sprawling as dust and debris flew through the air as the truck ¨C now tipped onto its side ¨C slid to a screeching, agonizing, stop. Just a few meters from where Sarah had fallen. ¡°Everyone, ok?¡± She shouted as she tried not to cough from all the dust that had been thrown up. There were a barrage of ''yes¡¯s'' to her question, but there were a few pained no¡¯s interspersed throughout. Cursing, she brought her gun up to peer at the now thoroughly wrecked entrance hall, and truck wedged within it. ¡°Gun¡¯s up people, get to cover!¡± She yelled, ¡°They¡¯ll be coming through any minute.¡± To their credit, her people were quick to react, moving to nearby bits of cover while dragging their wounded allies with them. She noted as she dived into her own bit of cover, that most of their injuries were centered around the legs; a place the vests barrier system didn¡¯t cover. Well, at least they can still shoot, She reasoned as she aimed her laser pistol at one of the two places one might squeeze past the wrecked truck to gain entrance to the mansion. ¡°Christ, I thought were fighting Neo-Nazi¡¯s not the Yakuza!¡± Sarah whipped her gun around in alarm, only to curse as she saw who had spoken. ¡°Gravity get your ass down here!¡± She hissed, zero tolerance for his sister''s mildly racist remark, ¡°I need every gun I¡¯ve got squared on the entrance." ¡°Yeah, fine.¡± The woman in question huffed as she started directing Lopez¡¯s people to spread out. ¡°Where¡¯s the second truck?¡± Sarah shrugged, ¡°It pulled up short of the mansion. We expected the second one to do the same, which was why we were caught off guard when it accelerated instead.¡± She had been expecting many things from this ¡®New Brotherhood¡¯, but a kamikaze attack was not among them. Olivia''s Yakuza remark certainly held a small grain of truth to it. We¡¯re criminals for god¡¯s sake, she raged. It¡¯s hard enough to get ahold of decent fighters in the first place, let alone ones willing to martyr themselves. Gravity clattered into cover next to her. ¡°Seems that Mechromancer''s not-¡± A loud clang interrupted whatever Gravity was about to say, drawing gun barrels from all over as her people honed in on its origins. The turned over truck. ¡°Hose it.¡± Sarah said without preamble. Gunfire ripped into the truck from all angles in a continuous spray of laser fire and bullets, filling the vehicle with holes. This wasn''t the movies. The vehicles exterior provided zero protection from small arms fire. Which was why, only after a full ten seconds of continous fire did Sarah raise a hand for people to stop. Even then it took a few extra moments for the last trickle of fire to die down. This was not a room full of disciplined soldiers, after all. Silence filled the room, broken only by the clangs of metal cooling after being rapidly heated by high intensity beams of light. ¡°No one''s coming in.¡± Gravity said warily. Yes, Sarah had noticed that as well. ¡°The question is wh-¡± The weakened metal of the truck¡¯s bed burst open as a massive furry thing leapt out of it. ¡°Shoot it!¡± Sarah shouted with alarm, putting actions to words as the thing bounded towards her. Gauntlets, she thought, dropping the gun even as the creature bore down on her. The gunfire started, but the shock of the creature''s reveal had delayed it for too long. The creature was right on top of her, teeth glinting in the light as it¡¯s maw opened wide. She wasn''t going to be fast enough. Chapter Eighteen ¡°That all of them?¡± Grey asked as she peered out into the darkness. ¡°That¡¯s all of them.¡± Erich responded as he peered at what remained of the second wave. They¡¯d done the exact same thing as the first wave and died just the same. Which didn¡¯t make much sense to him. Everything they¡¯d seen and heard about the Hangman suggested if not a tactical mastermind, then at least someone with a degree of strategic acumen. Sending waves of gang members at them achieved nothing. It didn¡¯t even put an appreciable dent in their ammo reserves, given that this was Hard-Light¡¯s main base of operations, and thus stocked to the gills with weaponry, both mundane and exotic. ¡°Can the Brotherhood even afford to sustain these kinds of losses?¡± He asked. Grey shrugged, ¡°Perhaps before they had their little split. They could have just shipped in more guys from branches in other cities.¡± But now that this city¡¯s branch has deviated from the main organization, that might not necessarily be true anymore, Erich realized. It depends on the internal politics of the Brotherhood. And he supposed, how many losses the New Brotherhood had taken in the course of their little coup. He was about to turn around and ask the shackled Integrity about exactly that when Grey shouted, ¡°Everyone brace!¡± Brace for wha- It was fortunate that the suit¡¯s internal motors did much of the stabilizing for him, because he would have been sent flat on his face as the entire room shook as something heavy smashed into something upstairs. Everyone else was not quite so lucky, as they were thrown from their feet. Not that Erich really cared about that, his focus was primarily on the way that dust fluttered down alarmingly from the ceiling. His suit could withstand many things. A mansion falling on it wasn¡¯t one of them. ¡°What the hell was that?¡± Erich shouted over the comms as the initial surprise faded, only to receive static in return. ¡°What¡¯s the hell''s going on up there?¡± Nothing. Just more static. Frustrated, and more than a little alarmed, he turned to Grey as the woman clambered back up to her feet. ¡°You getting anything?¡± ¡°Not anymore.¡± The woman said, in the process of her shaking her head when a bladed disk slammed into her neck. Erich stared in numb incomprehension as Grey reached numbly up to the implement, from which blood was already streaming, before she silently collapsed to the ground. Brain kicking back into gear as the woman¡¯s body hit the ground, he was vaguely aware of alarmed shouts from the lackeys as he brought his blaster up in search of a target. Nothing came up though. All he saw was the green tinted interior of the tunnel and the bodies that occupied it. No. As he watched, something glinted in his display for but a second as it flew past him. Their was a meaty thunk just to his right, and the distinctive sound of another body hitting the floor. ¡°Thermal.¡± He shouted, adrenaline spiking higher as another glint flew from the tunnel to strike another lackey. "Acknowledged." The suit responded, bathing his sight in oranges and blues. There! An orange blob hidden amongst the cooling corpses of the second wave, some blocky and cold instrument strapped over the figures crouching shoulder. ¡®Got you, fucker!¡¯ Erich thought triumphantly. ¡°Root Command Charlie-Epsilon-Zulu.¡± A voice shouted just as he prepared to fire. Erich¡¯s triumph vanished; to be replaced with dread as his limbs seized up utterly, the hum of the force blaster dissipating as the suit entered an emergency shutdown. The three remaining lackeys were still in the process of turning back from their downed ally toward where the voice originated from, when three more palm sized deadly disks flew from the darkness to take them in the throats. Each collapsed with a wet gurgle, one barely managing to turn on their torch, before leaving Erich as the only one still standing. Utterly immobile in his suit. ¡°Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.¡± He swore as he desperately tried to wiggle out, knowing in his heart of hearts it was useless. ¡°Oh, the irony.¡± A computer modulated voice chuckled from the darkness. ¡°Caught out by your own paranoia.¡± Erich barely listened. He was still trying desperately to move limbs that wouldn¡¯t budge. ¡°Give it up, Jason.¡± The voice continued as the speaker emerged into the light cast by the fallen torch.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. The person¡¯s form was utterly enshrouded in a gender concealing black bodysuit. ¡°You designed that protocol to stop anyone from using that suit after the voice command was given. Your fallback in case anyone ever tried to use it against you, right?¡± How!? He thought furiously. How did they know his name!? How did they know about the root command!? He had told no one about it. No one. Wait, if they know about that- ¡°Yes.¡± The voice interrupted his thoughts, ¡°I know all about the shutdown system in Sarah¡¯s new gauntlets too. Such an elegant, if gory solution to a possible threat. I really must give you credit for that. It really is quite inspired.¡± If Erich thought he was worried before, that comment drove his fear to new heights. ¡°Such a shame. All that genius. All that talent. And you¡¯re just as greedy and petty as even the worst bottom feeder.¡± The figure said, "Your sister would be so disappointed." As if having lost interest in him, the figure started to leisurely walk forward, a device coming to life in one hand. Even as he was forced to crane to look from his immobile suit, Erich could clearly see the timer emblazoned on the side. ¡°Honestly,¡± The figure sighed, ¡°I expected more from the brother of the Blur.¡± Fear momentarily took a back seat as Erich snarled, yelling in impotent rage as he cursed and struggled, desperately trying to shift the immobile suit as the explosive device clamped onto him with a metallic clang. The featureless face plate of the figure peaked in front of the suit¡¯s grill, ¡°So, I think I¡¯ll do her a favor by-¡± The sound of a gunshot had never sounded so sweet, as the figure dodged to the side with surprising agility for someone that had just been shot in the gut. "Gagh!?" They shouted with very human sounding pain, even through the distortion of their mask. ¡°Fuck you, Hangman. You Jew loving mother fucker!¡± The distorted and high-pitched voice of Integrity rang out. It was barely audible it was spoken so fast, but Erich had spoken to his sister many times when she chose to accelerate herself, and even as his heart leapt into his throat, he was able to parse through the hyper-fast curse. Peering round as far as he could, Erich could see that somehow the Neo-Nazi had shattered the collar holding him in place, and had crawled over to pick up a discarded gun. A gun he was blazing away at the now named Hangman with, as the black suited figure ducked and weaved. ¡°Steal my gang!? Steal my men!? Break my fucking spine!?¡± The former gang leader cursed with hyper speed as he continued to shoot. Erich watched on, expecting any moment for a disk to fly out from the fleeing Hangman¡¯s form and finish off the escaped skinhead, but it didn¡¯t happen. Instead he watched incredulously at the figure fled into the tunnel, clutching at their gut as blood dripped to the floor behind them. ¡°Come back here you piece of shit!¡± Integrity swore with super-speed as he continued to fire down the tunnel until his gun clicked empty. Erich waited with bated breath for the figure to do exactly that, but as the minutes passed, interspersed with the noise of gunfire overhead and the sound of Integrity¡¯s labored breathing, the Hangman did not return. ¡°Cowardly fuck.¡± Integrity hissed, his voice returning to a more normal speed. Erich didn''t disagree, but he figured he had bigger concerns. ¡°Little help?¡± Erich asked, not entirely sure whether it was wise to make the man aware of his presence, but also quite desperate to get out of his claustrophobic prison. ¡°I¡¯ve got it,¡± A familiar voice rasped with an unhealthy sounding wet gurgle. Erich sighed in relief, all but sprawling out of the suit as it opened up. Turning around, he saw that Grey was not as dead as he had thought, and that she had crawled over to pull on the suit¡¯s emergency release lever. An impressive feat for a woman who was rapidly turning grey from blood loss. Erich hurried over to pull out the disk, only for the woman to flinch back. ¡°Leave it.¡± She croaked, ¡°Pull it and I¡¯ll bleed out in seconds.¡± Erich looked at her blankly, mind running a mile a minute - then he pushed her weak hand aside and yanked. ¡°I know.¡± He said tonelessly as the woman¡¯s eyes widened with surprise, moments before she collapsed into the growing pool of blood. "I''m so sorry." He hissed. Feeling numb, and running more on autopilot than conscious thought, Erich reached over to pull the rifle from the dying woman¡¯s body. ¡°I would like to say that this is mind control.¡± Integrity chuckled from his spot behind them, ¡°but I¡¯ve seen enough witnesses being silenced over the years to know when someone doing it to me.¡± The man pinned Erich with a thin smile as the engineer aimed his gun at him. ¡°Isn¡¯t that right, Jason?¡± ¡°As you said,¡± Erich grunted, before unloading a dozen shots into the prone Neo-Nazi¡¯s form. The man collapsed with a wet thud, steam oozing from his corpse. Still running on autopilot, Erich walked over to pull a clip from one of the lackey¡¯s corpses, making sure they were all dead as he did. As he worked, he kept a wary eye on the tunnel mouth. Magazine in hand, he placed it into the open hand of Integrity¡¯s corpse, ejecting the spent clip from the man¡¯s gun. Job done, and hands still shaking, Erich looked at his suit. From overhead he could still hear the sounds of battle going on, but it was gradually petering off. Now that the Hangman was gone, whatever jammer they had brought had gone with them, and Erich could hear muted chatter from the earpieces of the corpses around him. Hurrying over, he moved to clamber back in¡­ only to stop. Idiot. The explosive the Hangman had put in place was still there. It was a small miracle the assassin hadn¡¯t set it off as they fled out of sheer spite. It was what he would have done. Must have been rattled, Erich thought. Not particularly surprising given what he assumed the figure¡¯s power-set to be. Being taken by surprise was probably as shocking as being shot itself. He sincerely doubted it happened to them often. Still, rattled or not, the explosive probably had some kind of anti-tampering mechanism on it. Fingerprint scanner or something. It was what he would do. With time and resources he could probably get it off without blowing himself to hell in the process. ...Unfortunately, he didn¡¯t have that. The suit¡¯s undamaged. That was suspicious. He had no ready made explanation for why and he was far from sure he could make some convincing battle damage before someone upstairs came to see what was happening. Hell, they could be on there way to ¡®reinforce¡¯ them while he was standing there. He was still deliberating over what to do when the roof started to collapse above him, admitting a veritable inferno of flaming debris from the floor above. Shit. Chapter Nineteen ¡°You made me sleep on the couch? In my own home?¡± Erich asked from his position on said piece of furniture. Gravity, who had been slumped over the breakfast counter woke with a snort, and her bleary eyes instantly focused on him. Then she laughed. Or tried to. ¡°I drag your bruised and battered body from that cellar, and that¡¯s the first thing you say to me?¡± She chuckled, ¡°Just typical.¡± Erich studiously pretended not to notice the way she wiped a tear from her eye, or the sheer relief in her features. He did direct a meaningful look at her helmet on the floor next to her. Not even upright, it looked like she¡¯d torn it from her head and simply dropped it. He might have been offended on its behalf were it not for a far more pertinent detail taking up his attention. Claw marks Three gouges had torn through the helmet, and by all appearances had missed Gravity¡¯s head only by the slimmest of margins. ¡°We lost then?¡± He asked. Gravity shook her head, genuine mirth replaced with a far more cynical variety. ¡°No.¡± She said, ¡°We won. We killed the freaks they sent after us and the rest of the Brotherhood¡¯s goons retreated.¡± Erich had no idea what she meant by freaks, but he could guess they were some kind of meta. Likely the ones who did in her helmet. ¡°Then why are we here?¡± He asked, before adding, ¡°And why am I on the couch?¡± He had been living in the mansion after Hard-Light¡¯s disappearance for a reason, and it certainly wasn¡¯t the company. His home was not well defended. ¡°We might not have lost, but we didn¡¯t win either.¡± Gravity said ruefully. ¡°The crew¡¯s gone.¡± ¡°Gone?¡± Erich repeated. Gravity nodded, ¡°Gone. Disappeared. Fled. Those that were still alive at least. Hard-Light¡¯s little faction is no more.¡± Erich was incredulous, ¡°Sarah didn¡¯t stop them?¡± Gravity snorted again, but there was no real humour in it. In fact, he could almost her a slight break in her voice. ¡°Who do you think¡¯s using the bed?¡± That was what finally did it. The dam broke and tears started to slide down Gravity¡¯s face as her body was wracked with quiet sobs. Erich had no idea what to do. Comforting people was not his strong suit. People in general were not his strong suit. Clambering painfully off the sofa, and tallying the litany of aches and pains that ran through his body as he did, he walked over to his¡­ friend. Slowly, ever so slowly, he patted her on the shoulder. Not unlike a man gingerly petting a particularly strange and dangerous beast. Fortunately, it seemed to work, after a few minutes of excruciating awkwardness, Gravity stopped crying long enough to aim a tired grin at him. ¡°Smooth.¡± She croaked. He shrugged uncomfortably as he stiffly retracted his hand. It worked didn¡¯t it? He felt like saying. Although, god knew, he hadn¡¯t expected it to. ¡°Come on.¡± Gravity grunted, sniffing and wiping tears from her face as she stood up. ¡°You¡¯re up, so with any luck sleeping beauty will be too.¡± Erich steadfastly made no indication that he heard the way her voice hitched toward the end of that sentence. Erich nodded, glad that the¡­ emotions, were over. ¡°How long have I been ¡®out¡¯?¡± ¡°Two days.¡± Gravity said, not even looking at him as they strode to ¡®his¡¯ room. Erich nodded, pulling up his shirt to see the patchwork of blue and purple bruises that covered his torso. Yes, he could see that being the case. Idiot, he added reproachfully as Gravity cracked open the door and they both stepped inside. Although, it seems I got off much better than Sarah. ¡®Bronte¡¯ was not in a good way. ¡°No doctor?¡± He asked, as he took in the sloppily applied nature of the bandages covering the woman. Particularly around her face. She looked more like a mummy than a person from the waist up. Gravity shook her head, eyes firmly on her sister, ¡°We¡¯re persona non grata now. Real doctors would turn us into the cops, and the back-alley kind would inform the Brotherhood.¡± She shrugged as she slumped into a chair that had been placed beside the bed, ¡°The Brotherhood¡¯s won and everyone knows it. If there was any doubt that Hard-Light¡¯s gone, last night put a nail in it. We can¡¯t rely on his reputation to protect us anymore. Not from the gangs or the cops.¡± Erich¡¯s thoughts immediately went to the collection of gear he had stashed away in one of the vans. This was his chance to make a getaway. ¡°What happened?¡± He asked, brow furrowing as he felt an entirely unexpected pang of shame, ¡°Last I heard things were going well.¡± ¡°I could ask you the same thing.¡± Gravity sighed, surprising him by tenderly gripping her unconscious sibling¡¯s hand. ¡°A truck slammed into the building. Which would have been fine were it not for its cargo. Three freaks. Fast, strong, and with a freakish regenerative factor. Werewolf looking motherfuckers.¡± That caught his attention. ¡°Three? All with animalistic features?¡± He asked. ¡°Yep.¡± Gravity nodded, ¡°Like something out of a fucking horror movie.¡± ¡°Three?¡± He repeated, Sarah¡¯s state and even his own plans forgotten. ¡°You¡¯re sure it wasn¡¯t a single meta with animal traits and two in a costume or something?¡± Gravity looked at him, as if offended, ¡°It definitely wasn¡¯t a fucking costume.¡± Erich didn¡¯t care, ¡°And they all had the same powers? All three of them?¡± His heart sunk when she nodded. That¡¯s not statistically possible. Not all in country, let alone one city. ¡°Shit.¡± He cursed, hands running frantically though his hair. ¡°Shit. Shit. Shit.¡± The medical equipment, he thought. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Still, a part of him held out hope. ¡°I need to see the bodies.¡± Gravity gave him a funny look, but answered nonetheless, ¡°that¡¯ll be pretty hard. Mansion was on fire when I left. Won¡¯t be much left seeing after you dig through all the rubble.¡± That¡­ that was good. Inconvenient, but good. At the very least it bought time. Unless the Brotherhood were less than subtle with their newest members. Still, any plans to flee were gone now. This was the kind of trouble that followed you to the ends of the earth. Escaping Hard-Light would have been a cakewalk compared to trying to outrun the Guild. And he had no illusions the Guild would follow him. Anyone involved in this now had a target sign painted over their back. ¡°Erich, what¡¯s going on?¡± Gravity asked, noting the way the blood drained from his face. ¡°I¡­ I need to¡­ I¡¯ll be in my workshop.¡± He finally settled on, rushing from the room. Gravity was left alone with Sarah once more, hand still holding hers. ¡°What the fuck was that?¡± She muttered to her sister. Sarah remained as still and silent as ever.
Erich let water run over his shaking hands as he stared into the mirror after throwing up into the toilet. Which had been distinctly uncomfortable given that he had not eaten anything in some time. Even amidst his recent worries and revelations, his mind kept going back to that moment. Right when Grey¡¯s eyes widened in surprise as he plucked the disk from her throat. She would have died anyway, he reasoned. Or she would have gotten you killed. Yes. She would have died anyway, he reiterated. They were far from a hospital and the mansion was going to burn down around them within the hour. She would never have made it. All that would have happened was that she would have gotten him killed by informing Sarah of something she really didn¡¯t need to know. You didn¡¯t know that at the time though, his reflection pointed out. You just¡­ acted. His hands still shook. Striding out into the kitchen, he grabbed a can from the fridge. One of Gravity¡¯s beers. A low carb one he noted with surprise and dismay. Still, he wasted no time in popping the tab and guzzling down the drink. Not nearly a high enough alcohol content. Still, it satisfied the craving. More of a habit than a physical need, but the development of that craving was just a matter of time at the rate he was going. ¡°Work to do.¡± He muttered, striding downstairs towards his shop. Work would take his mind off things. It always did.
¡°Huh, you¡¯re still here?¡± Gravity murmured tiredly as she wondered into his shop. Erich didn¡¯t even glance up from his assorted parts pile. Long since expanded from his days fixing toasters. Hard-Light had been more than happy to send all of his cast off meta-tech components his way. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I be?¡± He asked distractedly. ¡°It¡¯s my home.¡± Gravity walked over, plucking up a memory processor as she did, ¡°I don¡¯t know about that. I figured you would have taken your little van and skipped town by now.¡± Erich froze, partially disassembled omni-pad in hand. ¡°You knew about that?¡± He said with deliberate calm. Gravity shrugged, ¡°You were both out cold these last two days, and I kept expecting the Brotherhood to come bursting through the door at any moment. Figured it was a good idea to have an escape plan. Imagine my surprise to find your van already stocked up and ready to go.¡± Erich felt a drop of cold sweat run down the back of his neck, and it took a considerable amount of will not to reach for his laser pistol. ¡°Oh, chill out.¡± Gravity laughed, swatting him lightly on the shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m not judging. Sarah might, but she¡¯s not really in any position to make it known, and I¡¯m not about to tell her.¡± Erich let out a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he was holding. ¡°¡­Thank you.¡± He said finally, and to his surprise, he found he meant it. ¡°Damn. I should have brought my camera. Not often I get to hear something like that from you,¡± Gravity smiled, a much more genuine one than she¡¯d had not twenty minutes earlier. It would seem that just having someone to talk to had done her some good. Which was good for him because he would have had no clue how to help her otherwise. ¡°Quite.¡± Erich said, a small smile of his own gracing his features despite his best attempts to stop it. ¡°Another rarity. Will wonders never end?¡± Gravity laughed before leaning over the table, ¡°So, what¡¯s got you so excited that you practically ran out on me and my poor half-sister?¡± ¡°Our way of striking back at the Hangman.¡± Erich said as he inspected a few loose strands of synth-muscle. And just like that, Gravity¡¯s good mood was gone. ¡°No!¡± She practically spat. It was so loud and surprising that Erich nearly dropped the strand he was holding. ¡°No?¡± He asked finally. ¡°No.¡± Gravity reiterated. ¡°It¡¯s over. Done. We lost. The best thing we can do now is get out of this town while we still have our lives.¡± It was funny. If Erich had heard that said even a few days earlier he would have been jumping for joy. ¡°I would love to.¡± He admitted, ¡°but even if we run now, it won¡¯t save us. The Brotherhood have let the lion out of its cage, and if we¡¯re not quick, it¡¯s going to devour us all.¡± Erich was well aware that he was being more poetic that he needed, but what could he say? Imminent danger had a way of bringing out his inner thespian. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Gravity said, having picked up on his obvious fear. ¡°How do you think powers are formed?¡± He asked, running a hand through his hair, ¡°not the actual mechanics, but the catalyst for the event?¡± ¡°Stress?¡± Gravity said uncertainly. ¡°Exactly.¡± Erich said as he was once more drawn to the pile of components before him. ¡°Stress is what starts the change, but what most people don¡¯t realize is that the source of that stress, and how an individual perceives it, affects the resulting power more than anything else.¡± Gravity nodded. ¡°That¡¯s the problem.¡± Erich continued, ¡°you said that these ¡®werewolves¡¯ all had the same powerset. That¡¯s not a natural occurrence. In a modern society, stress comes about as a variety of different factors. More than that, people¡¯s subconscious solutions to these differing factors vary.¡± Erich pointed at her, ¡°I¡¯m willing to be that your power came about as a result of a need to escape a sensation of being ¡®crushed¡¯ physically or emotionally.¡± Gravity scowled at his bluntness, but ultimately nodded. ¡°More than that, it didn¡¯t affect your outward appearance.¡± He paused. ¡°Or perhaps it did. Their¡¯s a lot to be said about Metas being more ¡®attractive¡¯ than average. Perhaps as a result of it being a benefit in a modern society. As opposed to something more grotesque but functional, like claws, scales or fur.¡± He shook his head, ¡°The point is, that situations where meta develop powers that make them look inhuman are rare. Situations where three individuals develop the same powers and the same appearance are statistically impossible as a result of circumstance.¡± Gravity gradually tacked onto what he was saying, ¡°so someone forced people to have an Event that resulted in that powerset.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the problem.¡± Erich continued frustration rising, ¡°it¡¯s always been theoretical. The kind of stress needed to trigger an Event¡­ it¡¯s massive in people who aren¡¯t already directly related to a Meta. Even then, you have no idea who might even have the traits needed to have an Event in the first place. So in order to test for it¡­¡± ¡°¡­You¡¯d have to effectively torture a massive number of people in the hopes that one or two of them might have an event.¡± Gravity finished, a look of nausea coming over her face. Erich nodded. ¡°You can see why it¡¯s remained just a theory so far, and why we don¡¯t have governments churning out Meta superheroes all over the place. A ¡®Meta Farm¡¯ isn¡¯t just morally repugnant, it¡¯s expensive and incredibly risky. Even if it works, you¡¯ve essentially created a Meta with an unknown powerset and level with an ingrained desire to destroy the facility that created them.¡± Gravity still looked nausios, ¡°but clearly the Brotherhood have found a way around that problem, because those three who attacked us were under their control, and had the same powers. Which means they have some way of controlling the outcome.¡± Erich wouldn¡¯t say they had the artificial Metas under control. From what you told me, they basically threw them at you and then got the hell out of there. ¡°So why¡¯s this a problem?¡± Gravity asked finally. ¡°Let¡¯s call the cops and have them take down the Brotherhood for us. There¡¯s no way they can bribe their way out of this.¡± ¡°No!¡± Erich shouted, almost jumping up from his seat, ¡°Don¡¯t you see! We know it works now. We can spread that knowledge. Could you imagine what would happen if the ability to create Metas on demand spread to a warlord on the West Coast?¡± Gravity¡¯s dark complexion paled, ¡°it would upset the power balance.¡± ¡°Upset it!?¡± Erich said, ¡°It would goddamn shatter it. It wouldn¡¯t be like the government could use the same technique to even the odds. Could you imagine the public outcry?¡± Erich saw it was finally sinking in for her. This isn¡¯t the kind of problem that gets heroes or cops sent to resolve it, he thought. This is the kind of problem that gets resolved with a black ops team and a bullet for everyone even peripherally involved. Including him. ¡°Shit.¡± Gravity said, effectively summing up the situation. Chapter Twenty ¡°Any improvements?¡± Erich asked as Gravity slunk back into the shop. She didn¡¯t say anything, but the way the woman slumped into a seat was all the answer he needed really. The more days past, the clearer it was becoming that Sarah needed an actual doctor. Her condition had yet to improve, and they were rapidly approaching the limits of his and Gravity¡¯s medical knowledge. Hell, we had to google how to hook up an IV, he thought. It was fortunate for them that Sarah had been unconscious at the time, because they hadn¡¯t gotten it right on the first try. ¡­or the fifth. ¡°How are things coming on your end?¡± Gravity asked tiredly. Erich shrugged, ¡°They¡¯re coming. At this rate I should be finished before the end of the month.¡± Gravity shook her head, ¡°that¡¯s not fast enough. The Brotherhood could start on the Red Squares any day now.¡± Now that Hard-Light¡¯s faction was out of the way, it only made sense for them to start on their primary rivals now that they knew their new ¡®weapons¡¯ worked. Can¡¯t help but wonder if we were just a trial run? Erich shook his head. It didn¡¯t matter in the end. ¡°I am well aware of how close we all are to getting put on a government hit list,¡± Erich deadpanned, ¡°but I¡¯m already going as fast as I can.¡± He gestured to the half-built torso in front of him. ¡°Once I get the first one set up, it should be able to act as my assistant. That should speed the process up.¡± If not to any appreciable degree. A fresh AI would be about as intelligent as a particularly bright dog, albeit in different ways to an actual dog. ¡®Intelligence¡¯ is a spectrum after all, he thought. He was a prime example of that very fact. Brilliant in all things engineering, but he was all too willing to admit to a number of deficiencies in other areas. People most of all. ¡°It would go faster if you were actually willing to help me.¡± He pointed out, not for the first time, and likely not for the last. Gravity sent a tired glare his way. ¡°If I did, would you start helping me clean up Sarah¡¯s shit, sponge bath and feed her?¡± No. Not in a million years. He was a genius, not some kind of menial. He didn¡¯t deal with people¡­ or their fluids. ¡°The robot could do it.¡± He said offhandedly, as he started installing what used to be a webcam into said machine¡¯s head. ¡°You think I¡¯m about to trust your mechanical contraption with my sister?¡± Gravity asked incredulously. Erich might have been offended by the insinuation that his creation would be anything less than perfect, were it not for the grain of truth informing the woman¡¯s words. AI could be¡­ finicky. There was a very good reason they hadn¡¯t sparked the next technological singularity, after all. Even the fairly robust Omni-Systems Artificial Intelligence template he was going to pirate from the web was far from foolproof. And that¡¯s before I start installing some very illegal combat sub-routines into it. ¡°Fair enough,¡± he grudgingly acknowledged. ¡°Why are you even building those things anyway?¡± Gravity groused, gesturing at the collection of limbs and synth muscle strewn about the workshop, as well as the fabricator in the corner, which had been churning out more components almost non-stop since he¡¯d started. Again, Erich didn¡¯t begrudge her skepticism. A well-designed combat droid was usually only about as effective as a reasonably competent soldier, a few times more expensive, and not half as adaptable. Of course, the fact that he was building them for himself cut down on the price considerably, but even then they wouldn¡¯t be as cost-effective as a brand-new suit. ¡°The Hangman¡¯s a mind reader.¡± Erich reiterated for what felt like the third time, ¡°If I go after him with just a suit again, he¡¯ll tear it apart with the same ease he took out my first one.¡± Which was true, even if he¡¯d lied about exactly how the mind-reader had taken him out. Even if Erich didn¡¯t include a system of fail safes this time, the meta would still know every move he planned to make three steps in advance. ¡°That¡¯s why Integrity was sure the guy had mind control powers.¡± He explained, ¡°it¡¯s not difficult to get people to do what you want if you know their every want, need and weakness within moments of meeting them.¡± Gravity stared at him for a few moments, before deflating ¡°so you say. I still think we had a leak.¡± Erich didn¡¯t doubt they did, but it didn¡¯t change the situation with the Hangman, ¡°He knew shit. Shit I told no one. He¡¯s a mind reader.¡± ¡°So how did Integrity get the drop on him in the tunnel?¡± Gravity asked, referring the altered version of events he had told her. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure he sped up his mind sufficiently that the Hangman would have only registered it as a blur or ¡®white noise¡¯.¡± He theorized, ¡°If he registered it at all.¡± Erich had no idea how the mechanics of the guy¡¯s mind control worked, but that was his working theory. It didn¡¯t help that Integrity probably hadn¡¯t planned for that to happen. The guy had probably just wanted to slow down his perception of time so he could launch his surprise attack at the perfect moment. ¡°And this happened after you had your suit taken out?¡± Gravity reiterated. ¡°Throwing disks with explosives attached.¡± Erich shrugged, ¡°Got the drop on me, on all of us, when my shields were down. Which only reinforces my mind reading theory. He knew exactly when our guard was down.¡± Gravity stared at him for a few more seconds, before shrugging, ¡°you don¡¯t seem nearly as upset about losing your suit as I thought you would be.¡± Of its own volition his mind went back to it. The darkness. The heat. The suffocating claustrophobia¡­ ¡°Bigger problems right now.¡± He spat as she shook his head to dismiss the phantom sensation of metal pressing down around him. Frowning, he gestured to the half-finished combat droid hung up on the rack in front of him. ¡°Pass me that wrench, would you?¡± Erich sensed his friend¡¯s eyes watching him for a few more pregnant moments, before he felt the cool metal of the tool settle into his hand. ¡°I¡¯m going to make another adult diaper run.¡± Gravity sighed as she stood up. ¡°You want anything?¡± ¡°Carton of milk. We¡¯re running low.¡± He said shortly. It was only as he heard Gravity walk away, that he noticed that his right hand was shaking. Did she see? He wondered, panic flaring in his chest. Almost of their own accord, his fingers brushed across the laser pistol on his belt. He wanted to take it and run. Far and fast. He¡¯d done it once and he could do it again. Can¡¯t run, he reminded himself. They¡¯d catch you. Quickly. You¡¯ve got to stay. Strangle this problem in the crib. Still, it was difficult to calm the racing of his heart.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Need to get back to work. He deliberately ignored the suit blueprints sitting on his table as he returned to the drone in front of him. Still, the sensation of metal closing in around him remained at the back of his mind. Pressing at the very edge of his senses. He scowled, fear morphing into anger as he redoubled his efforts. Keep working.
¡°Why¡¯d you make it look humanoid?¡± Gravity asked as he welded the latest unit¡¯s torso armor on. He shrugged as he lifted his goggles to inspect the seam, ¡°it¡¯s convenient.¡± ¡°Yeah, but like, isn¡¯t it less efficient.¡± Erich stepped over to the workbench to grab a drink ¨C a non-alcoholic drink. Budding alcoholism aside, he¡¯d never indulge while working. ¡°Sure, compared to say, a four-legged box with a gun on top.¡± He admitted, ¡°but eventually I¡¯m going to have to transport these guys across the city. I need them to fit in the van, and I need them to be relatively inconspicuous during our assault. That¡¯s why we¡¯re going to be making a run to thrift store when it¡¯s finally time for the assault. Need to buy some baggy clothes to outfit them.¡± Gravity giggled, ¡°We¡¯re going to put clothes on them?¡± Erich nodded, ¡°Just enough to fool someone at a distance.¡± In the dark¡­ The need for discretion wouldn¡¯t have been a problem in the past, but like Gravity said, they no longer had Hard-Light¡¯s reputation to hide behind. And rogue AI constructs tended to draw a lot more heat than comparatively more dangerous constructs. Like his old suit. Which is something we have the Master to thank for. Sure, the man had worked with other supervillains of his time, but at the end of the day, it was him and his endless legions of Meta-tech constructs that conquered the West Coast and split the country in two. The stigma toward AI of any description still ran deep because of it. Got to be more subtle now, he thought as he looked at the finished robot. ¡°If you were going to do that, couldn¡¯t you have made them more¡­ human looking?¡± Gravity wondered as she looked at the machine¡¯s hard angles and boxy shape. ¡°You were the one who wanted me to go faster.¡± Erich pointed out, ¡°this is the compromise.¡± And even with the compromise, he¡¯d like to think what he¡¯d done had been pretty damn impressive. Sure, security bots weren¡¯t amazingly rare, and he¡¯d already had all the parts he¡¯d needed on hand, but that didn¡¯t change the fact that he¡¯d churned out ten of them in the course of a week. Well, pretty much alone, he amended, as he glanced at two of his utterly still helpers. The soft whining of their motors and the blue glow of their headlights were the only things indicating that drones were active. ¡°Bring in the next unit,¡± he said, watching with no small degree of satisfaction as the two units leapt to obey, their eye pieces flashing yellow as they moved. ¡°Acknowledged.¡± The two units said in unison, their voices echoing with artificial distortion. Which anyone listening to will hopefully pass off as a voice changer, he thought. ¡°That¡¯s another thing I don¡¯t get.¡± Gravity said as she watched the two robots clatter over to the next unit; one that had been entirely assembled but for its armored components. ¡°Why the lights? You just said you wanted to be subtle.¡± Erich frowned, ¡°it¡¯s a safety feature. They turn off when they enter combat mode.¡± ¡°Why¡¯d you need a safety feature?¡± Gravity asked, still eying the two drones. He shrugged uncomfortably, ¡°If your computer glitches, you might end up losing some files. If one of these glitches¡­¡± Well¡­ it went unsaid. Personally, he would rather have a few seconds warning if his creations threat recognition software decided to fail. ¡°You aren¡¯t filling me with confidence here.¡± Gravity deadpanned as she glanced at him. ¡°I built these things in a week.¡± He said, ¡°if they didn¡¯t have a few issues, then I¡¯d be goddamn surprised.¡± He¡¯d had to cut a few corners; one of which was the origin of the drones combat-subroutines. Here¡¯s hoping the unit AI from ¡®Call of Destiny¡¯ is as good as the reviews said it was, he hoped. It was a cheap trick, but he wasn¡¯t an amazing or particularly fast programmer. It was easier for him to simply crib from a pre-existing model. He could only hope it wouldn¡¯t come back to bite him in the ass later. Gravity¡¯s frown softened as she ultimately conceded his point, ¡°I guess you¡¯re right.¡± He nodded, about as happy as her about relying on something that was, in all likelihood, unreliable. ¡°They¡¯re just disposable muscle anyway.¡± He said. Gravity turned back to eying the units as they dragged their skeletal brother over. ¡°I guess.¡± She said, before changing tact entirely, ¡°So, how are things coming with suit 2.0?¡± It was an innocent question, meant more to change the topic than anything else. Nonetheless, Erich felt his stomach drop out from under him as his mind turned towards his suit. Grey¡¯s disbelieving eyes staring up at him. The scent of blood in the air. The sound of her lifeblood dripping to the floor. ¡°I haven¡¯t had time.¡± He said, his hand clenching into a fist, ¡°the drones have been keeping me busy.¡±
¡°I think I wanted this, you know?¡± Erich murmured to Sarah¡¯s comatose form. Even as he made his confession, he whispered under his breath. All but silent even in the quiet of his room; if only on the off chance his captive audience regained consciousness. Even if his paranoia had come back to bite him in recent days, he found it difficult to shed the habit of a lifetime. He wasn¡¯t even sure he wanted to. Gravity was out. Another shopping run to refill their meager stash of food and drink. She had charged him with watching over her comatose sister, refusing to accept his exclamations that one of his robots could do it. So, there he sat, looking at the woman who for a short time had been his lover, and in some small way, his jailer. ¡°Sure, it was mostly at the back of my mind, but I knew from the moment I showed you that suit, you would want me to build more.¡± He admitted, more to himself than anyone else. ¡°How could you not?¡± In the corner of the room one of his sec-droids watched over both of them, a laser rifle cradled in its cold metallic hands. ¡°And, you know what? I enjoyed it. Even the piloting.¡± He murmured, Especially the piloting.¡± He smiled bitterly, ¡°I never admitted it. Not even to myself. But I think I was enjoying all of it. The money. The power. The respect. The¡­ sex. But most of all, I think it was the sensation of being one of the ¡®big¡¯ people.¡± That had been new. And so intoxicating. To be noticed for his talent. To not be a footnote in some else¡¯s story for once. To be judged on his own merits rather than be drawn up against the example his sister set. ¡°I think it was my way of finally beating her. Sad as it is.¡± He mused, ¡°Taking on Metas with a suit I built.¡± Proving that he, a mundane man, had the power to do battle with the metaphorical demigods of the new age. ¡°And I¡¯ll be honest.¡± He nodded, ¡°for all my plans to run. For all my plans to escape this life. When I get right down to it, I don¡¯t think I can.¡± Lord knows, if he had been willing to make just one or two sacrifices, he could have escaped from Hard-Light. If he really wanted to. But he hadn¡¯t. He¡¯d made excuses in his own mind and continued down the path, complaining all the while. ¡°I think Grey¡¯s death is what¡¯s driven it home for me.¡± He admitted, ¡°what I¡¯m willing to do to keep living this lifestyle. Who I¡¯m willing to hurt for my own gain.¡± Not without hesitation, but without a doubt, he repeated in his mind. That was the crux of it wasn¡¯t it. He¡¯d never thought himself a bad person. Greedy, vain, callous, cowardly and more, but never¡­ villainous. Hell, he¡¯d even managed to convince himself he was somewhat heroic. In some small way he¡¯d been living out a fantasy of his youth; fighting Neo-Nazis on the streets of North Granton in a suit, he had built himself, surrounded by people with powers. A beautiful woman on each arm¡­ Proving to himself that he was one of them. Then he¡¯d met the reality of his situation; powerlessness. Hangman had mastered him as easily as one might an unruly child. Because they cheated. Because they¡¯d done something Erich had never even considered. Because they¡¯d acted in a way that would have gotten anyone but them killed. And they¡¯d not just survived, but thrived. Because they had a power. And powers did not conform to the laws of reality as science understood them. They were the ultimate wild card. The ultimate trump. A way of overturning any given status quo. And because of that, Erich had been forced to confront a second truth. Grey¡¯s eyes staring up at him as he plucked the blade from her neck, as if silently pleading to know why. He knew why. Because you were a threat to me, he responded from across the gulf of time. Because it benefited me more for you to be dead rather than alive. That was the conclusion he had come to. What did that make him? To inflict pain on others for one¡¯s own gain? What else could that be but the act of a villain? He had to accept that. He couldn¡¯t afford to keep being so¡­ halfhearted about all this. ¡°Get well soon Bronte,¡± he murmured as he gently squeezed one of her bandaged hands. ¡°I think I understand you more now than when all this began.¡± Certainly not all of her¡­ but more. ¡°Engage sentry mode,¡± he said as he stepped out of the room. ¡°Acknowledged.¡± Gravity wouldn¡¯t be happy about it, but he found he didn¡¯t care. She would get over it. His presence in that room wouldn¡¯t help Sarah. It wouldn¡¯t help anyone. No, he had work to do. He had to take the Hangman down. Not because he¡¯d wronged him. Not because it was the right thing to do. Not because hundreds of people would die in horrific ways if he didn¡¯t. He was going to do it because the mind reader¡¯s existence was a clear and present threat to him. At least, that¡¯s what he told himself as he strode down the stairs to his shop. Chapter Twenty One ¡°This may be more difficult than I initially gave it credit for.¡± Erich surmised as they looked over the plans for the abandoned hospital that the New Brotherhood had converted into their ¡®Meta Farm¡¯. ¡°You can say that again.¡± Gravity frowned. The place was massive. So big that Erich had no idea how a place of that size had been built in a city that desperately needed more hospitals, and yet was now sitting ¡®abandoned¡¯. ¡°Do you know why it was abandoned?¡± He asked curiously. ¡°The usual,¡± Gravity shrugged. ¡°Corruption, mismanagement, politics and budget cuts. It was pretty big news back when I was a kid.¡± That sounded about right. ¡°Right, so what did you manage to find out yesterday?¡± Erich said, getting back to the topic at hand. ¡°Saw at least two dozen Brotherhood gang members lounging about outside yesterday, but there¡¯s definitely more inside.¡± Definitely, Erich thought, support staff at least; doctors, nurses, orderlies¡­ guards. Not just to protect the place, but to keep the prisoners in line as well. And given the kind of work he thought they were doing in there, he was willing to assume that anyone present was an enemy combatant. Which is just as well, because I need to silence them all anyway¡­ including the prisoners. That was going to be rough. No two ways about it. Not for the first time, he considered just flattening the place from a distance and calling it a day. ¡°I know that look,¡± Gravity said. ¡°The cops will ignore a lot of things, but they won''t ignore people using heavy artillery in a city. If we''re going to do this without drawing too much attention, we need to be careful." Which translated to putting a few pounds worth of explosives in the right places to make it look like the place was destroyed by something else. Like two metas duking it out inside. Erich sighed, and nodded. Looks like I''m was going to be looking a lot of people in the eyes when I murder them. ¡°You think your bots are going to be up to it?¡± Gravity asked. Erich glanced over to where the silent machines, now twelve in number, stood lined up against the back wall of his shop. He¡¯d initially had them patrolling the place, but watching them prowling about at all hours had swiftly got on his nerves. ¡°One bot for ten gang members, assuming the same level of equipment and competence we¡¯ve seen thus far.¡± He guessed. The bots casing could shrug off most forms of small arms without much trouble, but like his suit, the design¡¯s weaknesses were the joints. If you threw enough bullets at them, they would go down. ¡°That many?¡± Gravity whistled. "I thought you said they were about as good as a competent soldier?" "I did." Erich shrugged. "And that makes them worth at least a dozen street thugs by my reckoning. Besides, ten''s an ideal situation. Heavier weapons or Metas will scrap them without much trouble.¡± It took a certain level of creativity to deal with whatever craziness a Meta might throw out, after all. Modern AI just weren¡¯t capable of it. ¡°Alright, so I assume that¡¯s our job then?¡± Gravity asked, a hint of nervousness entering her tone. ¡°Dealing with any Metas that pop up?¡± Erich didn''t blame her for being nervous. He knew he certainly was, and he¡¯d only heard about these ¡®werewolves¡¯ from her second hand. Prior to her more detailed explanation of the brutes, his running theory had been that Hard-Light had been caught off guard by the Hangman''s mindreading powers and taken out that way. But the more he heard about these new artificial metas, the more he worried that the man had simply been overwhelmed by a horde of the slobbering monsters. Which did not bode well for their own chances, given that they were about assault the place they originated from. No, he thought. If they had more than three available, they would have used them during the assault on the mansion. And given that those three had perished ¨C at the expense of nearly all of Hard-Light¡¯s very well equipped goons ¨C he was hoping that the Brotherhood had yet to create more. Still¡­ ¡°It is.¡± He admitted to Gravity''s previous question. Gravity looked like she wanted to swear, but in the end nodded stoically. ¡°Look on the bright side,¡± he said as he ran a hand through his hair, ¡°there¡¯s one Meta there that we can leave to the bots.¡± ¡°Who?¡± ¡°Hangman.¡± Erich said, ¡°If you encounter him, direct the bots to take them down. If I¡¯m right, and they¡¯re a mind reader, the bots have an infinitely better chance of catching him off guard than we would.¡± Integrity had proven that. In an ideal world, Erich would have whipped up some kind of anti-mind reading device now that he knew what the Meta¡¯s power was. Unfortunately, this was reality, and he had no idea how to even start on such a project. How does one even ¡®read¡¯ minds?A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. That was the problem with powers. They didn¡¯t play by the same rules that the rest of reality seemed to abide by. Speedsters should be pancaked by their own acceleration. Bruisers should crack concrete with their sheer density. Shooters should melt the skin of their own hands. Hell, even chunks of my own tech is cannibalized from parts created by Hard-Light, Erich thought grimly. Erich might have had a better understanding of technology than the old man ever did, but even he had no clue how the ultra-compact Meta-Tech batteries that powered the whole ensemble worked. It just did. ¡°Well that¡¯s a good. I wouldn¡¯t want to mess with him after the pounding he gave you.¡± Gravity grinned, pulling him from his thoughts. Metal closing in. Blood in the air. Screams in the dark. ¡°Quite.¡± Erich faked a thin smile at the woman¡¯s small attempt at levity, ignoring the tightening of his chest. Of course, Gravity noticed immediately ¨C his acting skills were atrocious. ¡°You sure you¡¯re going to be ok with this, Erich?¡± Gravity said. ¡°You haven¡¯t even started on a second suit yet.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡± He said, ignoring the hairs rising on the back of his neck as he thought of clambering once more into a¡­ suit. ¡°You don¡¯t look fine.¡± Gravity pointed out calmly. ¡°You¡¯re turning paler than usual.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± he glared. If he thought that would make her back off, he was sorely disappointed. Which only made sense really; she¡¯d lived her whole life surrounded by villains with short fuses and generally unstable personalities. ¡°You¡¯re not fine.¡± She said. ¡°You¡¯re practically shaking.¡± Erich firmly gripped his treacherous right hand to his chest, stopping its quivering by smothering it against himself. He glanced away from Gravity¡¯s concerned gaze, shame blooming in his chest. Which was morbidly funny, now that he thought about it. I¡¯ve never pretended to have any great moral fortitude, he thought. He¡¯d never pretended to be more than he was. A selfish and vain coward, desperately scrambling to save his own skin. ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡± Gravity said finally. ¡°What?¡± He said, taken completely off guard by the random statement. ¡°I¡¯ll do it alone.¡± She said, resting a hand on his shoulder. ¡°You don¡¯t have to go. Me and the bots should be enough.¡± No. They weren¡¯t. Not even close. Even with him, this was liable to fail and get them both killed. I want to accept though. So very badly. ¡°...No. You won¡¯t.¡± He sighed, ¡°you fail, and I¡¯m toast anyway.¡± Gravity stared at him, eyes roaming over his, if not determined, then no longer terrified, expression. ¡°And here I thought you would say something inspiring about always having my back,¡± she chuckled. Erich shrugged. He wasn¡¯t that guy. He never would be. ¡°Well,¡± she said, ¡°if you¡¯re determined to come on this little suicide mission, you really need to get a suit of some description up and running.¡± She gestured to the map. ¡°Otherwise we¡¯re going to end up getting pinned down at the first bottleneck we come across. We need something to act as our breacher.¡± Erich nodded tiredly, ¡°give me a few more days. I¡¯ll get something together.¡± Gravity grinned. ¡°Good. I¡¯ll see if I can¡¯t drum up some extra manpower in the meantime. Hard-Light¡¯s guys might have all gone to ground, but their should still be some smaller gangs roaming about with more balls than brains. Just a matter of waving some cash in their direction really.¡± Erich wondered for a moment why she hadn¡¯t mentioned this idea prior to now, before deciding it wasn¡¯t really worth it. ¡°Just try and get a few that will wait until after we¡¯ve destroyed the horrific torture factory before they stab us in the back.¡± Gravity gave him a jaunty salute before she strode out of the room, one of the sec-units peeling off to join her. Erich sighed, before turning back to his worktable. A few days to put together a new suit? Yeah right¡­
Erich sighed as he looked over the initial designs for his new suit. ¡°Well¡­ It¡¯s prettier than the first one was,¡± he muttered. It was also smaller and faster. ...With weaker shields, weapons and armor, as well as a shorter operational time, he amended. Which was only to be expected when one considered that he planned to assemble it over a few days with half as many parts as his first attempt. Still¡­ Erich heard the telltale beep of his drones entering combat mode and immediately dropped his Omni-Pad as he reached for his laser pistol. ¡°Report.¡± He said to the nearest yellow eyed sec-unit as he kept a wary eye on the door. ¡°Asset ¡®Gravity¡¯ has returned with an unknown individual.¡± The machine intoned with its artificial cadence. ¡°Permission to engage unknown individual?¡± ¡°Permission postponed.¡± Erich instructed as he started walking toward the shop¡¯s entrance, ¡°All available units accompany me. Escort mode.¡± ¡°Acknowledged.¡± The drones said as they fell in around him with machine like precision. Erich had a vague idea of what he would find outside: Gravity being denied entrance by the sec-unit at the door, accompanied by some two-bit gang-leader. Probably a low-level Meta of some description. Which likely meant a woman, given the disparity in Event rates between the genders. Of course, there was also the possibility that she had been captured and was being held hostage at gun point. Which was why he was being accompanied by an entire compliment of his drones. He had also taken to wearing one of the few remaining hard-light vests at all hours, so he was reasonably safe from being sniped the moment he stepped outside. All in all, it was nothing to get particularly excited about, and he was far more interested in returning to the ¡®suit¡¯ that was taking shape inside his shop. Which was why he was caught almost completely off guard when he saw who ¨C or what ¨C was standing beside Gravity on the street. Or rather, looming over Gravity on the street. ¡°Yo, Erich.¡± Gravity¡¯s voice called, no doubt taking pleasure in his poleaxed expression. Not that he really noticed her, focused as he was on the seven-foot-tall purple skinned woman standing next to her. ¡°Who¡¯s your friend?¡± He asked as soon as he recovered. ¡°Miya.¡± The woman in question answered. ¡°Leader of the Forty-Five, and your ally in seeing the Brotherhood driven from this city.¡± ¡°As she said.¡± Gravity grinned, ¡°her and her people are pretty eager to give the Brotherhood a bloody nose.¡± ¡°But not so eager as to forgo payment.¡± Miya said as she crossed her massive arms over her equally massive chest. ¡°That won¡¯t be a problem.¡± Erich put in as he surreptitiously waved for the drones to stand down. ¡°I think you will find us quite well suited to remunerate you for your assistance.¡± No matter how much it pained him to do so. ¡°Good.¡± The woman said, ¡°because if I¡¯m going to be throwing my people into this meatgrinder, then I expect to be well compensated for the loss.¡± Gravity frowned at the woman¡¯s words, but Erich found himself looking at the statuesque woman with a newfound respect. This was someone he could work with. Chapter Twenty Two ¡°So, it¡¯s true that Hard-Light had another Artificer with him.¡± Miya said as she glanced around the shop. ¡°I assume that makes you Mechromancer then?¡± ¡°In a manner of speaking.¡± Erich responded as he gestured to the drones standing sentry along the walls, ¡°I¡¯m without a mech at the minute though, so it doesn¡¯t quite feel right to keep going by the title.¡± ¡°You¡¯re still Mechromancer. Suit or not.¡± The woman insisted. ¡°These little toy¡¯s you¡¯ve got keeping an eye on me are proof of that.¡± Erich shrugged. He had hoped to be subtle about the fact that his guards were all still armed, but it seemed the gang leader had seen right through his wafer-thin deception. ¡°As you say.¡± He said for lack of anything else to say. ¡°Although, if you¡¯re still hankering for a suit, you can come work for me. Me and my people could really use an Artificer. Might not have access to the same shit Hard-Light had, but with him gone¡­ well, we have room for expansion.¡± The woman offered frankly. ¡°Let¡¯s stop right there.¡± Gravity jumped in, cutting the woman off before she could say anything else. ¡°You¡¯re here to help plan out this assault on the Brotherhood and negotiate your pay, not try and poach away Erich.¡± ¡°Worth a shot.¡± The woman shrugged, utterly unabashed. "Would take you too if I could." Erich coughed, getting his mind back on track after being caught off guard by the offer. It wasn¡¯t like he would have accepted anyway. It had been risky enough running with Hard-Light, who had been considered pretty much invincible before everything had gone south and proven that to very much not be the case. Even if we still have no idea what happened to the man... No, wasn''t he about to sign up with a small time gang. Especially one that thought it was a good idea to piss of the same group that had done in the former most powerful meta in the city. ¡°Right.¡± Erich said as he handed both women an Omni-Pad. ¡°I¡¯ve been looking the place over, and I think our best chance is to use the same approach against them that they used on us. A lightning fast assault initiated by a kamikaze strike from a truck or equally heavy vehicle right through the front doors. From there we go in, slap down some explosives, and get out.¡± ¡°Who¡¯s going to drive the truck?¡± Gravity asked, ¡°one of the bots?¡± Erich shrugged, ¡°In a manner of speaking. I can rig up a simple drive system, if we can grab the vehicle we¡¯re going to use an hour or so in advance.¡± ¡°Too risky.¡± Mira chimed in as she looked over the hospital map. ¡°Look at this hallway. Much too thin. There¡¯s a good chance we¡¯d just end up creating an obstacle for ourselves and jamming the whole place up.¡± Ah. He hadn¡¯t thought of that. Then again, he was well out of his comfort zone, so it wasn¡¯t really all that surprising. He was an engineer, not some kind of strategic savant. Really, he would have prefered to pass it all off to Gravity, but it seemed that even with the loss of her father¡¯s organization, she was far more content to be a follower rather than a leader. She was also far better at deflecting tasks than he was... ¡°How accurate are these bots of yours in a shootout?¡± The massive purple skinned woman asked. He shrugged, ¡°They¡¯re machines so¡­ very. So long as they get a second or two to acquire the target they should be accurate up to the range possible with their weapons.¡± Which was a mishmash of different guns, given that Gravity hadn¡¯t exactly had time to scoop up a dozen laser rifles while she dragged both Erich and her sister from Hard-Light¡¯s burning mansion. Erich had been forced to arm his security force from whatever Gravity could buy from the various illicit arms dealers that roamed the local neighborhood. Myra hummed in thought before tapping a few locations on her pad. ¡°How about we place a shooter here, here and here in advance of the attack. From there they could take out any door guards before keeping those entrances suppressed.¡± Erich watched as a number of red icons appeared on his own pad where she¡¯d tapped. ¡°Won¡¯t they notice us getting the bots into place?¡± Gravity asked as she took a dip of her drink. Myra shook her head, ¡°My people are familiar with that area, even if we didn¡¯t know what was going on there. We figured it was just another drug lab, not a¡­ what did you say it was again?¡± ¡°Trafficking ring.¡± Gravity put in before Erich could speak, belatedly remind him that the whole reason they were going through with this was to keep what was going on in that hellhole quiet. "We''re also expecting a meta named ''Hangman'' to be there. He was injured in our last engagement, so with any luck, he should still be there recuperating." Because this was going to get really complicated if he wasn''t. Given that all these changes had only come about after Hangman showed up, Erich was betting that the telepath was the source of them. If they could take him and the hospital out at the same time, it would hopefully put a lid on the entire ''meta-farm'' thing, before it managed to spread. ¡°Right.¡± Myra nodded, ¡°The guards stick to the building itself rather than the surrounding street.¡± She gestured at the watching drones, flashing them a mouth full of teeth that definitely weren¡¯t human. It hadn¡¯t been all that long ago that Erich had pointed out how rare it was for powers to come with visible ¡®defects¡¯ and for just a moment, he wondered what had caused the woman before him to have her powers develop in such a way. Myra continued heedless of his thoughts, ¡°Put some clothes on them like you did with the one at the front before sending them out at night. None of those skinhead fucks will pay them any attention. Probably just assume they¡¯re another bunch of vagrants.¡± Erich tapped a finger to his chin, drawn from his thoughts. ¡°Sounds like a good idea, but that doesn¡¯t exactly give us a way to gain entry to the place. We¡¯re not exactly running a surpluss of energy shields here.¡± Hospitals were tall and had lots of windows. Perfect places to snipe from. Even with his bots providing cover fire, he wasn¡¯t eager to make a dash across that much open ground. Especially in a new, weaker, and entirely untested, suit. ¡°Energy shields?¡± The woman scoffed, ¡°Shit, you rich folk and your fancy pants shit. We don¡¯t need that. My guys can whip up a few smoke cannisters. All you need to do is chuck them out and run like hell for the doors.¡± Erich didn¡¯t like the sound of that, and from the look on Gravity¡¯s face, she wasn¡¯t a massive fan either. ¡°And what¡¯s to stop them from gunning us down when we¡¯re all nicely bottle necked at the door in this mad scramble?¡± She asked skeptically. Myra grinned, razor sharps fangs peering out from between her lilac lips, ¡°That¡¯s what you¡¯ve got me for.¡±
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡°Do you trust her?¡± Erich asked as he felt the third automated arm settle onto his suit¡¯s back mount with a satisfying clunk. Myra had left to gather her people after an another hour or so of planning their assault on the hospital. At least, she said she was gathering her people. For all they knew, she was selling them out to the Brotherhood as they spoke. Which was why Erich had his drones on high alert, with four of them dressed up in casual clothes and standing sentry just outside the shop. Gravity pursed her lips as she lazily nursed a beer. A low-carb one. Erich thought they were gross, which was probably why she kept buying them. It was a good way to keep him from raiding her stash. ¡°Trust is a strong word.¡± She said finally. ¡°Everyone has their price, and in this business those prices are pretty damn low.¡± ¡°Not exactly a ringing endorsement.¡± Erich muttered as he tapped the screen on his Omni-Pad. ¡°I wasn¡¯t finished yet and- don¡¯t use me to test your suits tracking software!¡± She said, ducking as the arm swung towards her. It was pointless anyway, as the arm unneringly followed her every movement. Erich shrugged, powering down the arm with another couple of taps to the Omni-Pad. ¡°As I was saying.¡± Gravity continued as she returned to her seat with a pronounced pout, ¡°Myra will sell us out if she thinks it¡¯s in her best interests. Fortunately for us, those interests align far more with ours than the Brotherhoods.¡± Erich could see that being the case. The woman¡¯s inhuman features would put her on the Brotherhood¡¯s shit list no matter what she did. And somehow I doubt the New Brotherhood¡¯s use of ¡®werewolves¡¯ has changed that stance. From what Gravity had told him, the Brotherhood had deployed the Metas that attacked her in a manner more fitting for disposable ordnance than a living asset to the organization. ¡°We also go back a fair way,¡± Graivity continued as Erich checked to see if the new connection had messed with the suit¡¯s shielding system. An actual shield, rather than a barrier system, given the decreased size of the suit¡¯s generator. He was a bit concerned that the long length of the new automated arms would mean that they poked outside of the shields protective bubble. ¡°Surprising.¡± Erich said as he noted with satisfaction that their was no unnatural drain on the shields, ¡°I would have thought hanging out with another gang would have been a big no-no while you were with Hard-Light.¡± Gravity shrugged, ¡°In case you didn¡¯t notice, he and I didn¡¯t exactly see eye to eye on a lot of things.¡± Yes. He definitely had noticed that. ¡°So do you know just her, or the rest of her crew as well?¡± He asked, more to continue the conversation than out of any real interest. Gravity had already answered his initial question after all. ¡°I know a few of them. I imagine the memberships changed a fair bit since I last ran with them. Small-time gangs tend to have a pretty high turnover rate.¡± Erich could see that being the case. ¡°So you didn¡¯t just hang out, you were actually part of the gang for a while?¡± He asked with not-a-little surprise. ¡°Hard-Light wasn¡¯t really in the picture back when I was actually a part of the gang.¡± She said, not that it was even really a proper gang back then. Hell, we probably had more in common with those vigilante groups you hear about.¡± That caught Erich¡¯s attention. ¡°You? A vigilante?¡± Gravity actually flushed. ¡°Only a little!¡± She protested, ¡°and only because we mostly hit other gangs. Small time ones like us, but ones that were into the really shady shit. Trafficking and the like.¡± ¡°And Myra was in on this?¡± He asked, trying to reconcile the massive woman from before with a youthful vigilante. She had seemed like many things, but altruistic wasn¡¯t one of them. The grin that had been forming on Gravity¡¯s face died. ¡°As I said. We were a lot younger then.¡± She said finally, ¡°the White Tigers are just another gang now. Not the worst around, but not much better either. The only good thing I¡¯d say about them is that actually do provide some protection for the people they extort.¡± Obtuse as he was, even Erich could tell it was a sore spot for the woman. ¡°So, why¡¯d you leave?¡± He asked as the silence started to drag. Gravity frowned, ¡°My powers developed. Which was also when I finally found out who my father was.¡± Ah, Erich thought, now I get it. It wasn¡¯t an amazingly uncommon practice. For villains or heroes. All one had to do was start leaving bastards all over the place. Which was easy enough for men of means, which most villains and heroes tended to be. Sure, it was an investment that wouldn¡¯t see any results for something like sixteen years, if ever, but it wasn¡¯t like it was any great investment of effort on the part of the man either. All one had to do was keep tabs on the kid every other year and see if any powers developed. For Heroes it meant easier access to prot¨¦g¨¦s, and for villains it meant Meta underlings. His thoughts must have shown on his face, because Gravity gave him a dry smile. ¡°Yep,¡± she said, ¡°suddenly I¡¯m no longer my own woman. I¡¯m part of Hard-Light¡¯s little organization. Sarah doesn¡¯t talk about it, but her story¡¯s pretty much the same. Death-Shriek too, before he got on the wrong side of Grey Hood.¡± Erich didn¡¯t know what to say to that. ¡°Pass me the next arm would you.¡± Was what he finally settled on. Gravity looked dumbfounded for a moment, before sighing and reaching over to grab the appendage. ¡°I don¡¯t know what else I was expecting.¡± She said as she passed him the arm.
Erich twitched slightly as he felt the suits four automated arms shifting on his back. It was an unsettling sensation to feel them moving independently of his will. Not unlike having a particularly large and cumbersome animal strapped to him. ¡°Nervous, kid?¡± Myra grinned over at him, mistaking his discomfort for nerves. Which wasn¡¯t an entirely incorrect assumption to make. He was nervous as hell. ¡°Uncomfortable.¡± He said, thankful that the suit¡¯s comm system meant he didn¡¯t have to yell over the noise of the van. ¡°This suit was a rush job, and I can feel it.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like a rush job.¡± Myra said, eyes running admiringly over his latest suit. ¡°I¡¯ve seen plenty of Artificers use worse for much longer.¡± ¡°Which says more about the low standards of Artificers than it does my suit,¡± he pointed out. The purple skinned Amazonian still looked skeptical, but nodded anyway. ¡°Fair enough.¡± She said before turning toward the rest of her people, who were so tightly packed into the vehicle that it was standing room only. An unfortunate side effect of working with such a low level gang was that the vans that Erich had taken for granted while working with Hard-Light were now far fewer in number. Two to be precise. And one of those was his. Or rather, Hard-Light¡¯s, but possession was nine-tenths of the law. Besides, it¡¯s not like he¡¯ll be needing it anymore, he snarked as he thought of the likely long dead supervillain. He would have preferred to go in the van with the drones rather than be crammed in here with the rest of Myra¡¯s gang, but he doubted it could have taken the extra weight, even with Gravity riding along to try and alleviate some of it. He was drawn from his lamentations by Myra beginning her pre-battle speech. Unlike him and her, the rest of her people didn¡¯t have earbuds to communicate, so she had to yell. ¡°Right kiddy-winkles you know the plan. Mechromancer¡¯s drones are going to be the first on station, and they¡¯re going to be the ones to deploy smoke. That means we should have some cover when we arrive. Don¡¯t think that means you can stand around scratching your ass when you jump out. The second your feet hit the ground I want you running for those hospital doors. Let''s get inside, get these explosives planted, and get the hell out.¡± ¡°How will they know where the doors are if there¡¯s smoke everywhere?¡± Erich asked, the idea only just occurring to him. ¡°This aint our first rodeo,¡± Myra grinned, ¡°my driver¡¯s done this a hundred times before. He¡¯s going to point the rear of this truck directly where we need to go. All we need to do is start running when we get out.¡± Seemed a little slapdash to Erich, but Myra seemed confident, so he withheld his skepticisms. It wasn¡¯t like it mattered to him. The visual filters in his helmet would be more than capable of seeing through a little smoke. So long as enough of Myra¡¯s goons made it to the front door to pull of the attack, he didn¡¯t care if a few got picked off while they were stumbling through the smoke. Erich dismissed them from his thoughts as he turned toward his own suits diagnostics window. Shields, full strength. Synth-Muscle, primed and ready. Coolant system, operational. Back-Arms, functioning. For good measure he had the system run its own check. ¡°Lasers Online. Shields Online. Targeting Online.¡± Gravity¡¯s computerized voice announced, the familiar rhythm a balm to his worried mind. Fuck it, he thougth with an eerie sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu. Let¡¯s do this. At which point the van started to veer violently, and Erich was damn near thrown from his feet. Chapter Twenty Three The rest of the White Tiger¡¯s were either more used to their drivers insane driving style, or steadier on their feet than Erich, because he was the only one who stumbled as the vehicle pivoted. Or they don¡¯t have enough room to fall over, Erich noted with grim satisfaction as he saw the strained look on the faces of those goons who were pressed up against the wall. Still, the moment the van swerved to a halt, the back doors were swung open and people were piling out onto the smoke-filled street. ¡°Time to go, kid.¡± Myra grinned as she easily pulled his heavy exo-suit to its feet with a single massive purple hand before leaping out herself, the van swaying violently on its suspension as the purple meta left. Erich wasn¡¯t much slower as he charged out of the van, his suits sensors allowing him to see across the car-park despite the clouds of smoke obscuring everything. Which was why he got to see in great detail as one of the White Tigers took a stray round and collapsed mid-charge. Nor was she the only one, as he could see two other prone figures face down in the smoke. Myra might have disdained the use of energy shields as a rich man¡¯s crutch, but he imagined those of her posse who weren¡¯t bulletproof might have felt differently. Besides, it wasn¡¯t like the defenders were having it entirely their own way. From behind him he could hear the methodical gunfire of his drones as they advanced on the building. Rather than the mad dash of their organic counterparts, his mechanical underlings fired as they advanced, forcing the defenders to duck back into cover in those few moments where the smoke shifted enough to give either side a vague view of the other. "Erich, second floor, third window from the right! " Gravity radioed. Through the gloom of the smoke, Erich watched as a flailing figure was dragged up into the air, flailing madly as they were illuminated in green. Ignoring the occasional spark of bullets impacting his shield, he focused on the figure. ¡°Weapon Three. Manual Control. Eye Reticule.¡± He murmured as his targeting system interposed a targeting reticule over his vision. ¡°Manual Control Engaged.¡± Gravity¡¯s automated voice responded. As soon as the reticule was in place, he thumbed the activator on his wrist and three shots cracked out from over his shoulder. The glowing figure jerked in the air, before going still. ¡°Target down.¡± he said simply, watching as a moment later the glow faded, and the body slumped against the parapet of the window. "Nice." Gravity shouted, ¡°the rest are keeping their heads down now. Get over to Myra before a Meta shows up.¡± ¡°Drones on me.¡± He instructed, running forward as the machines around him stopped firing to jog after him. One lagged behind as a result of sparking leg, but he paid it little heed. The situation at the door was about as he expected, with Myra¡¯s gang hunkered down in front of a doorway with the woman herself battering away at the doors. Shit, he thought as he noted that they¡¯d been reinforced. Not enough to withstand the enthusiastic battering of an angry brute for long, but enough to have delayed their plan for a quick breach. ¡°Drones. Sentry mode.¡± He said as he ducked into cover, inwardly acknowledging that this suit had that one advantage overs its predecessor in that it was actually small enough to use cover. Well, that and the fact that I could still move in this one in the event it stopped working, he thought, acknowledging the not insignificant degree of claustrophobia he now suffered from his time spent immobile in his last suit. ¡°Weapons one, two and four. Independent targeting.¡± He murmured as he saw the first defenders sortieing from the hospital¡¯s other entrances. The arms on his back leapt into motion, whirring away as their targeting systems honed in on the distant figures who had started to exchange fire with his own group. The three arms fired in unison, although whether or not they hit anyone, Erich couldn¡¯t say given the general confusion of the battlefield. Fortunately, their Brotherhood goon¡¯s aim seemed to mostly be on the drones. Which was understandable, given that they were all still standing out in the open. It seems ¡®Call of Destiny¡¯ lacks a cover mechanic, Erich grumbled as he watched one of the drones stumble back from a shot before rebalancing itself. Need to rectify that. Fortunately for him, the drones were not so weakly armored to be brought down by a few stray rounds. It would take a good number of shots in the same general area before their armor was compromised. It also helps that Gravity and her drones are still on overwatch, he thought as a distant figure was lifted into the air, to be perforated by gunfire a moment later. ¡°Kind of need those doors open, Myra.¡± Erich shouted, wincing as gunfire thudded into the pillar he was hiding behind. Myra didn¡¯t grace his complaint with a response, but she did seem to redouble her efforts to batter down the metal entrance. As he watched, the steel entrance continued to deform under the woman¡¯s enthusiastic blows. ¡°Ammunition reserves: eighty percent.¡± Gravity¡¯s automated voice helpfully announced, causing Erich to wince.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Selective fire mode.¡± He hissed, wary of expending his anti-telepath weapons ammunition reserves before he even encountered them. Or any meta for that matter, he thought, before wincing at tempting fate. ¡°Doors down!¡± Myra shouted triumphantly as the metal door collapsed with a crash, ¡°get the fuck-¡± The woman was cut off as a figure from within smashed into her, sending both of them to the ground in a tangle of cursing limbs. ¡°Shoot it!¡± the woman shouted as she pried the creatures teeth away from her throat. She needn¡¯t have bothered. While Erich and the rest of her people might have been stunned by the arrival of a goddamn werewolf, the drones and the weapon¡¯s on his back had no such compunctions. They had just been waiting for an appropriate firing solution. A needless precaution given that Myra was a brute, and thus could shrug off most small arms, but Erich hadn¡¯t thought to program in an exception. Which was why, when Myra lifted her assailant into the air, the werewolf yowled in pain as dozens of rounds were fired into its back from behind. Which was then followed by a second barrage of fire as the gangsters and Erich recovered from their shock. ¡°Yuck.¡± Myra cursed as she clambered out from under the creatures corpse, her front liberally smeared with werewolf blood. ¡°What the fuck kind of meta was that!?¡± Erich didn¡¯t deign to answer the dangerous question. Doing so would defeat the point of coming in the first place. Instead, he promptly put another two rounds into the werewolf¡¯s head. Don¡¯t want that regenerative factor coming back to bite me in the ass, he thought, ignoring the surprised looks from the White Tigers. At least, those who weren¡¯t busy firing back at the skinheads trying to flank around them. ¡°Drones, follow mode. Drones two and six, sentry mode.¡± He instructed before gesturing for Myra to get inside the building. ¡°Let¡¯s get this done.¡± The woman scoffed, rubbing blood from her chin, but strode into the building nonetheless. Hearing no gunfire from within, Erich, the White Tigers, and his remaining drones, followed after her. The interior was nothing special. Little different from any other hospital really, if a little more wind worn from lack of maintenance. There was also the remains of the Brotherhood goons who had been guarding that particular entrance. Spread out quite liberally around the lobby. Erich didn¡¯t need a degree in criminology to see that they¡¯d been done in by teeth and claws. It would seem that the Brotherhood¡¯s method of controlling their test subjects is far from foolproof, Erich grimaced as he turned away from the gory tableau. And he wasn¡¯t the only one who did so, as he heard someone throwing up behind him. Although, he thought, trying to understand the implications of the scene, it¡¯s possible they don¡¯t even have a control method. Which would explain why the Brotherhood retreated after delivering the werewolves to the mansion. They didn¡¯t want to be eviscerated by their own weapons. Shaking his head, he brought his mind back to the task at hand. None of this would matter after he brought the entire building down and put an end to the creatures. ¡°What the fuck?¡± Myra repeated as she surveyed the carnage. ¡°Seriously. What the fuck?¡± ¡°Get the explosives ready,¡± Erich instructed, ¡°we¡¯re on the clock here.¡± Every second they wasted brought New Brotherhood reinforcement closer. In the form of goons, other metas¡­ ¡­or cops and capes. Myra glanced suspiciously at him, but nonetheless instructed one her people to pull out the bundles of explosive they had brought with them. ¡°On that pillar there.¡± She said, after quickly consulting the map on her omni-pad. ¡°Let¡¯s keep moving,¡± he instructed. They found a few more bodies as they passed through the halls, Myra in the lead. It was enough to make him wonder if the earlier werewolf had escaped rather than been released. Perhaps as a result of panic in the face of their attack? Still, even with a werewolf on the loose in the interior, he would have expected more defenders about the place. They couldn¡¯t have all been killed or gone to defend outside. ¡°How are things looking outside?¡± Erich radioed. ¡°We¡¯re down to three drones. A speedster showed up and took out the two you left on the doors. I took care of him by canceling his gravity and letting him splat into a wall.¡± Erich grimaced at the mental image. Myra, who had been listening in, directed three of people back the way they had come. A wise precaution against being flanked now that there exterior defenders were out of commission. Graivty continued on, ¡°I think he was the leader on site, because now most of the Brotherhood out here are keeping their heads down. They seem pretty content to hunker down and wait for reinforcements.¡± That made sense, but Erich wasn¡¯t quite ready to believe it. Every time they¡¯d encountered the New Brotherhood before, they¡¯d been played like a fiddle. He couldn¡¯t believe that everything was going his way now that he¡¯d engaged in an insane assault on one of the Brotherhood¡¯s main facilities. Still it did no one any good to for him to voice those misgiving outloud. ¡°Right, try not to get complacent.¡± He radioed, ¡°we know the Hangman¡¯s a sneaky bastard, and we¡¯ve already encountered¡­ two metas.¡± He resisted the urge to curse as he nearly said werewolf, giving away to Myra that this was more than a trafficking ring. ¡°I¡¯m willing to be there will be more.¡± ¡°Roger that.¡± Gravity acknowledged, the faintest hint of nervousness in her voice. He didn¡¯t blame her. He wouldn¡¯t have been too happy with the possibility of encountering another one of the creatures that nearly staved his head in in her shoes. As they advanced further into the hospital, they started to find where the first of the test subject were held. ¡°What the fuck is this!?¡± Myra grunted as she peered into a room with half a dozen men and women cowering in the back corner. Likely the ¡®medical¡¯ staff, he thought. That wasn¡¯t what had drawn Myra¡¯s eye though. It was the rows of cots filled with people strapped to their beds. Their very bloody beds¡­ He had no doubt if they looked around, they would find a torture room, equipped with all the tools needed to induce an Event, as well as some system to associate that pain with some kind of animal. He made it sound simple, but he was sure the execution was quite a bit more complex, given how simple the theory behind it was. Otherwise he was sure their would be artificial meta humans all over the place. They''re all members of the Brotherhood though, he noted with both relief and surprise as he noted the tattoos strewn about. Perhaps captured from the True Brotherhood, or volunteers from the New Brotherhood? It didn¡¯t really matter in the end. The knowledge that he was about to blow up a horde of Nazis made the act slightly more¡­ tolerable. At least, more tolerable than blowing up a horde of innocent people. Slightly, he thought as he deliberately looked away. Chapter Twenty Four ¡°Let¡¯s keep moving.¡± Erich said, as he started walking down the hall. Myra looked like she wanted to argue, eyes leaping between him and the hospital room. In the end though, she rolled her eyes and followed after him. It seemed that whatever questions she had, she was willing to put them aside, or at least wait until they weren¡¯t waist deep in Nazis before raising them. Which is good, because I know exactly what I¡¯m going to have to do if she gets even a hint of what she¡¯s actually looking at. He didn¡¯t want to do that. But he would. Not without hesitation, but without a doubt. The fight from there became kind of rote. Myra¡¯s people split off down the varied catacomb of hallways to deploy their explosives. Every now and then Erich could hear gunfire as they came across roaming members of the Brotherhood, but given the briefness of it, it seemed that Myra¡¯s people were winning. With any luck, they¡¯d find Hangman soon. If not, well, he was willing to settle for dropping an entire hospital on the guy. It would be suitable payback for their last meeting. Assuming the guy¡¯s even present, a voice niggled away at the back of his mind. He dismissed it. It didn¡¯t matter if he wasn¡¯t. They had to take out the hospital anyway. At the very least, it would weaken the New Brotherhoods position. Perhaps enough for the Red Squares to get involved. Which wouldn¡¯t be a total disaster once the werewolf menace had been taken care of. ¡°Still alive then, Erich?¡± A familiar voice echoed through the hospital¡¯s scratchy old intercom. ¡°I must admit. That was an oversight on my part. I had assumed Hard-Light¡¯s organization crippled and the survivors fled.¡± Erich felt his blood run cold, even as he wondered why the Hangman wasn¡¯t using his ¡®real¡¯ name. It would have been a convenient way of muddying the waters with his allies. ¡°What can I say?¡± He responded over an open channel, utterly sure the telepath was listening, ¡°I¡¯m tenacious. Like a cockroach.¡± ¡°Quite.¡± The voice responded, ¡°not unlike that worm Integrity. Why you¡¯ve even managed to build a new suit.¡± Erich glanced over to see one of the hospitals camera watching him, before he blasted it. ¡°Spoilsport.¡± Hangman chuckled, ¡°I wonder if this one has the same fail-safes as the last one?¡± Erich scowled, banishing the phantom sensations of his suit closing in around him with anger. ¡°Why don¡¯t you show yourself and find out.¡± He snarled, glad that Gravity wasn¡¯t present to hear this. Not that he thought she would do anything about it. With the revelation that she was unbothered by his escape plan, he figured she was pretty safe. The only people he really had to fear learning the truth of his previous contributions to Hard-Lights organization was the man himself and his daughter. Neither of which still posed a threat to him. ¡°Perhaps I will?¡± The voice laughed, sending a shiver down Erich¡¯s spine. ¡°It¡¯s not often I get to kill a rat twi-¡± The man was cut off by a loud gunshot. ¡°I think that¡¯s enough of that.¡± Myra said as she lowered the smoking barrel of her machine pistol from the sparking remains of the nearest intercom speaker. ¡°If you¡¯re quite done chewing the fat, perhaps we can get out of here before more Brotherhood goons, or the cops, show up.¡± Momentarily stunned, Erich nodded slowly, almost slapping himself for being baited like that. ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s get out of here.¡± He huffed, getting his head back in the game. ¡°Are all the explosives in place?¡± The purple woman nodded, ¡°last of my people just radioed in. We¡¯re good to go.¡± ¡°Then let¡¯s get the fuck out of here.¡± Erich said, resisting the urge to insist that they stay to hunt down the telepath now that he knew the meta was here. He¡¯d have to settle for dropping the building on him, hopefully before he esca- Actually¡­ he thought as an idea came to him. ¡°Drones. Search and Destroy. Priority Target.¡± ¡°Acknowledged.¡± The machines intoned, splitting up to head off in different directions, the one with the sparking leg lagging behind. Myra, and the two goons of hers that hadn¡¯t split off to place the last of the explosives, watched them go. ¡°Damn waste.¡± The woman said, the barest hint of frustration in her voice as ¡®limpy¡¯ disappeared around the corner. Erich shrugged, as he started walking back the way they came. ¡°Always more where that came from.¡± Although, with Hard-Light no longer acting as a source of Artificer parts he didn¡¯t know exactly when he would be able to produce more. The competition for Artificer created parts on the black market was totally cutthroat. Hell, most of Hard-Light¡¯s income came from selling off his own failed experiments. ¡°For you maybe.¡± The purple woman sighed as she jogged forward to act as the groups point man. ¡°Unless you¡¯re willing to reconsider my earlier offer?¡± Erich shook his head. In other circumstances he might have seriously considered the woman¡¯s offer of more work, but his recent criminal experiences had served to more than put him off. No. He was getting out of this city, and he was taking his hard-earned cash with him. What came after that¡­ well he¡¯d think of it when it came to him. Maybe open another tech store? Might even take Gravity if she¡¯s interested, he amended, deliberately not thinking of Sarah¡¯s current state. ¡°I¡¯m sure the veritable piles of cash Gravity is paying you will soothe your offended sensibilities.¡± Erich pointed out. To his surprise, the gang leader did perk up at that, ¡°True.¡± ¡°How are things looking outside, Gravity?¡± Erich radioed.Stolen novel; please report. ¡°Same as before,¡± Gravity responded, ¡°Though I¡¯m now down to just the one drone. No idea what happened to the other one. It just started smoking before keeling over.¡± Erich grimaced, ¡°a bullet must have gotten in or shook something loose.¡± He could almost hear the woman¡¯s shrug over the line. ¡°Maybe. Either way, be careful on your way out.¡± She didn¡¯t need to tell him twice. He was very conscious of the fact that he was in a building that was rigged to blow at any moment. ¡°Your people ready to leave?¡± He asked, turning to the massive purple bruiser as some of the gangsters who had peeled off to place explosives earlier trotted back into the room. ¡°Mostly.¡± She said after a few moments listening to her own comms, ¡°one of my teams has stopped reporting in.¡± Erich felt a shiver run down his back as a sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu ran through him. ¡°Do you want us to go look for them?¡± He asked reluctantly. Myra just looked at him like he was the crazy one. ¡°Fuck no. They¡¯re either dead or too dumb to use their radio. Either way, if they¡¯re not here when the rest of my teams arrive, we¡¯re leaving them.¡± ¡°Roger that.¡± He grinned, remembering why he liked the foul-mouthed gang leader. ¡°Movement!¡± One of Myra¡¯s gangers shouted, drawing them both from the moment as they turned their weapons towards the double doors the man was aiming at. ¡°Our people?¡± Myra asked, only to receive a shrug in return. ¡°Great,¡± she hissed, ¡°everyone start moving. Me and the tin-man are staying behind to act as rearguard.¡± Myra¡¯s people needed no further prompting, dashing from the room even as Erich directed indredolous eyes at the woman. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t give me that look,¡± the woman said without even having glanced at him, ¡°you and I have the most protection. Makes sense for us to bring up the rear.¡± The fact that neither of them would have to perform the role if he hadn¡¯t sent off his bots on a search and destroy mission went without saying. Sighing, Erich acknowledged her point, slowly walking backward with the woman while they both kept their eyes on the set of double doors at the end of the hall. Which was why the pair of them got to see in detail as the doorway exploded off its hinges as another werewolf burst through. ¡°Another one!?¡± Myra roared in disbelief, even as she yanked the trigger on her oversized gun, sending masses of lead at the creature. Erich wasn¡¯t any slower, as he let rip with all four of his weapon systems at the creature even as it kept coming. Charging mindlessly down the hall as round after round pelted into it, sending Erich¡¯s heart leaping into his throat as it bore down on them. Not going to kill it fast enough! He thought, hands raised ineffectually as- Myra tackled it, casting her gun aside. The pair of massive figures slammed into the hospital wall with enough force to smash straight through it, leaving Erich in an empty hallway as the sounds of violence echoed from the newly formed hole in the wall. He considered running. Given that Myra had just talked about abandoning her own people, he doubted she would have held it against him. They weren¡¯t friends. She hadn¡¯t just acted to save his life. The werewolf had been a threat to both of them. He half turned, ready to move. And stopped. He tensed again, willing his legs to act, but they stayed pinned in place. Motionless. Grey¡¯s face flashed before his eyes. Pleading. Betrayed. Angry. He shook his head, as he cast aside the memory. ¡­He¡¯d done the right thing. The smart thing. He kept telling himself. His legs refused to move though. ¡°¡­Shit.¡± He cursed as he turned back around and dashed into the hole that Myra and the werewolf had passed through. ¡­and nearly got his head taken off by a stray swipe from the creature¡¯s claw. ¡°Shit!¡± He cursed as he fell back into the hallway from which he¡¯d came. Still, he got a great view of the battle going a few feet away. Myra and her foe hadn¡¯t traveled far after busting through the wall. The pair were duking it out in the way only bruisers could as they thoroughly demolished the bathroom they were in. Even as he watched, Myra, blood streaming from claw marks across her face, slammed half a toilet over the werewolf¡¯s head. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw him, no doubt wondering why he hadn¡¯t run away. Still, she was pragmatic enough not to question her good fortune. ¡°Shoot it!¡± She roared. Erich didn¡¯t need to be told twice. He also didn¡¯t need to worry about friendly fire. Myra was bulletproof. The werewolf was not. It did have a mean regenerative factor though. Which meant he had to be¡­ surgical about this. ¡°Weapons One, Two and Four. Manual Control. Eye Reticule.¡± He hissed, not even waiting for the suit to acknowledge before he started firing. It was difficult to keep track of in the frantic melee going on in front of him, but he determinedly kept his eyes on the creatures head as his weapons started firing. ¡°Hesitate a little asshole!¡± Myra hissed as bullets pinged off her steely skin, leaving marks that would no doubt blossom into impressive bruises with time. ¡°Hold it still, woman!¡± Erich roared back as his guns stitched massive holes across the creatures body as it struggled in her grasp, claws digging into her as it clawed madly at her arms. ¡°I need to get off a headshot!¡± Which was made all the more difficult by the fact that their was a minute amount of lag between the movements of his eye and the reticule. ¡°I¡¯m trying, ah, fuck!¡± The purple woman hissed, grimacing in pain as the creature suddenly latched onto her throat with it¡¯s teeth. Perfect, Erich thought as the act momentarily stilled the monster¡¯s head. Four guns fired at once, practically obliterating the werewolf¡¯s head, and spraying Myra liberally with the contents of its brain pan. The woman still held on for a few more moments to the twitching corpse, before realizing that it was in fact, a corpse. Dropping it, she slumped to the floor, taking massive gulps of air. Erich wasn¡¯t much better, as he slumped against the bathroom wall, blood rushing in his ears as his legs shook from leftover adrenaline. ¡°You didn¡¯t run?¡± The woman finally asked. Erich shrugged. The woman grimaced as she gingerly probed at her wounds with her fingers, ¡°didn¡¯t take you for the type to be a White Knight.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± he muttered as he checked his ammo counter. Twenty percent remaining, he frowned. Not good. ¡°Your gun''s in the hallway.¡± He said, ¡°grab it, and let¡¯s get out of here.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t have to tell me twice,¡± the purple woman said as she clambered to her feet, wincing as her wounds made themselves known. ¡°You still able to walk?¡± He asked as he noted how stiffly she was moving. It would be just his luck that after going out of his way to save the gang leader, she would end up too wounded to move, and he would end up having to abandon her. Because he sure as shit wasn¡¯t going to be able to carry her, even if she did help. His current suit could barely sustain its own weight, let alone someone else¡¯s. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡± The woman huffed as she pushed past him and out into the hall. ¡°I already owe you for saving my ass. No chance in hell I¡¯m about to owe you another.¡± Despite himself, Erich felt a chuckle slip out of him as he stepped out after her. A chuckle that turned into a choked snort as something slammed into his side and sent him sailing through the air. He lay sprawled across the ground for a moment, dazed by the blow even as he choked for air. I think I may have cracked a rib, he thought blearily. Not that he knew what that sensation felt like given that he was more of an ¡®indoor child¡¯, but he reckoned the sensation of raw bone deep fire running down his side was a pretty good indicator. ¡°Shields Down. Weapon Two Disabled. Weapon Four Disabled.¡± Gravity¡¯s robotic voice informed him. ¡°Power Core Compromised.¡± Something grabbed him, by one of his remaining weapon mounts he thought, and dragged him to his feet. ¡°Move, Erich!¡± Myra¡¯s voice roared in his ear even as she put action to words by bodily pulling him with her, sending more pain stabbing through his side. He didn¡¯t complain though, instead he focused on putting one leg in front of the other as he tried to jog along side her, a feat made more difficult by the pain in his side and the sudden sluggishness of his suit¡¯s response. As they reached a corner Myra spun while running to fire a few rounds back down the hallway. Erich used the opportunity to glance back himself, and when he did, he felt his blood run cold. ¡°Oh,¡± he said, with a voice that held only the slightest hint of hysteria, ¡°it seems that the Hangman has my suit.¡± Then he ducked around the corner as another pulse blast rocketed into the wall, sending debris and dust flying through the air. ¡°That motherfucker stole my suit!¡± He yelled as he sprinted for the exit with all he was worth, pain in his side no longer quite so relevant. ¡°Shut up and keep running!¡± Myra shouted as she slipped past him. Chapter Twenty Five "Gravity, get ready to cover us." Erich gasped through gritted teeth as he ran towards the exit, ¡°Hangman¡¯s in my old suit.¡± ¡°What!?¡± Erich winced as the woman shouted over the comms, ¡°Yeah, it seems it was a little less damaged than I gave it credit for.¡± It had also apparently more or less survived having a building dropped on it. In different circumstances he might have taken a moment to take pride in his creation¡¯s longevity. As it was, the pain in his side somewhat soured that experience, especially tempered by the knowledge that if his shields hadn¡¯t taken the brunt of the shot he would probably have been smeared all over the hospital walls. ¡°Michaelson!¡± Myra shouted through the comms, mercifully cutting off that line of thought, and Gravity¡¯s ongoing yelling, ¡°You better have every gun we have trained on those doors when we come out. Even if your guns can¡¯t even scratch the suit¡¯s paintwork, the motherfucker¡¯s bringing plenty of goons with them.¡± They were? Erich hadn¡¯t even noticed. Then again, the sight of his suit, fully intact and bearing down on him, had done quite a good job of commanding his focus. ¡°Will do, boss.¡± Responded a man, presumably Michaelson. The guy didn¡¯t sound happy, but he didn¡¯t sound like he was about to flee either. ¡°The Nazi¡¯s are perking up out here, so a few of our people are busy, but we¡¯ll have more than enough guns on that door.¡± From behind them, they heard the patter of gunfire and then the sound of metal shrieking. Likely just encountered one of my bots, Erich thought, dismayed by just how little time the drone had apparently lasted. From the sounds of things, Hangman had just smashed the machine aside and kept moving. So much for his plan to nullify the telepath¡¯s mind reading ability by using drones. Erich and Myra burst out of the hospital and straight into a scene out of a war movie. The smoke had cleared, and fire was being sent every which way as Myra¡¯s people blazed away at the Nazi¡¯s. The cars that had filled the carpark they had inserted through had all seen better days as they were liberally filled with bullet holes. Fortunately for his peace of mind, none of Myra¡¯s people were using them for cover, given that the vehicles would provide next to no defense from bullets. ¡°Get over here!¡± Myra shouted, tugging him towards a set of pillars. Erich was about to complain about being manhandled as pain shot up his side again, but the moment he opened his mouth to speak, Myra¡¯s head rocketed to the side as a bullet pinged off it. That shut him up, and he willingly allowed himself to be shoved into cover, even as his side screamed in protest. And a good thing too, because the moment he had sunk down behind cover, the double doors of the hospital all but exploded outward as the massive form of his old suit charged out of it. ¡°Holy shit!¡± Gravity cursed, unknowingly echoing his own thoughts. ¡°Light em¡¯ up!¡± Myra shouted as skinheads spilled out of the hospital after the armored telepath. Erich didn¡¯t hesitate, and neither did the rest of Myra¡¯s people, as a deluge of fire pattered against the suit¡¯s glowing energy barriers. The people to the left and right of it weren¡¯t so tough though, and a number of the skinheads that had been caught in the open were minced under the impressive amount of firepower. The suit didn¡¯t stop though, and Erich had a sudden terrible sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu as he recalled his own first outing with the suit. Only now he was on the other side. ¡°Scatter!¡± he shouted as he scrambled out of the way as the suit ran toward them, firing as it advanced. A few of the White Tigers had heeded his words and dived to the side, but most hadn¡¯t heard him, and were sent flying as the wide-angle pulse blasts detonated amongst their ranks. Erich winced as people were sent sprawling by the energy weapon. The only exception was Myra who had just tanked the blast. Then Hangman punched her in the face, and even from a half dozen meters away, Erich heard the crack as the purple woman¡¯s head snapped back. She swung back almost instantly, but the suit moved with an eerie grace to step around the blow, before hitting her with a body blow. Erich and the rest of Myra¡¯s people fired into the melee, but with every moment that passed the New Brotherhood goons advanced further out of the hospital, forcing more and more of the White Tigers to change targets. The mech¡¯s fists smashed into the woman again and again. And again and again the bruiser tried to counter attack, only to be sidestepped by the slow-moving suit. He¡¯s pre-empting her moves, Erich noted with a complete lack of surprise*.* ¡°Root Command Charlie-Epsilon-Zulu,¡± he shouted, not really expecting a response. Only, to his surprise, the suit froze mid-movement. Holy shit¡­ he thought, hope blooming in his chest. ¡­Then it blasted Myra with it¡¯s pulse blaster, sending the bloodied woman sprawling, before turning it¡¯s ¡®eyes¡¯ on him.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. ¡°Of course,¡± he sighed, as it started advancing on him. ¡°Voice recognition software, Erich.¡± Hangman said, voice practically oozing smugness even through the telepath¡¯s artificial cadence. ¡°Something you really should have invested in to begin with.¡± Erich didn¡¯t dignify that with a response as he dodged backwards, blazing away with his remaining weapons. ¡°Is that half-baked piece of junk really the best you could do, Mechromancer?¡± Hangman snorted disdainfully as the bullets ricocheted off his defenses. ¡°Shit. Shit. Shit.¡± Erich cursed, pain flaring in his side as he backpedaled. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get your sad story over with.¡± The meta grunted as he brought his guns up, only to grunt in pain as a green aura settled over his limbs. ¡°Not quite yet,¡± Gravity grunted with gritted teeth. Erich looked over to see the woman crouched behind a nearby pillar, arms outstretched and glowing. ¡°Do something Erich.¡± Gravity grunted, sweat streaming down her forehead from the strain of holding the struggling suit in place. ¡°Your ridiculous suit is too fucking strong for me to hold for long.¡± ¡°Right,¡± Erich nodded, frantically looking around as he dismissed the peculiar sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu. Shields, down. Guns, not worth a damn. Exoskeletal strength, pathetic. Battery, comprom- Ah. ¡°Arm one, detach weapons system and extract battery.¡± He hissed frantically. ¡°Acknowledged.¡± The suit said in time with the sound of one of his weapons clattering to the floor. ¡°Warning: Removing power source will cause catastrophic suit failu-¡± *¡°*Root Command, extract battery.¡± He hissed even more frantically. ¡°Acknowledged.¡± The suit intoned, reaching behind his back to clumsily yank out the compromised power core with a spray of sparks, before freezing as the whole suit ran out of juice. Lamenting his refusal to install a backup power supply, Erich tried to reach behind himself to grasp the power core, only to grunt with frustration at the fact that the awkward angle left it out of reach. Which left him looking rather ridiculous as he flailed behind himself. ¡°Erich!?¡± Gravity hissed. ¡°Working on it!¡± He shouted back in frustration, before jumping up and slamming his back into the floor. Pain exploded out from his side, and his breath exploded from his lungs as he hissed in pain, but he heard the cracking sound he wanted. At least, I hope that¡¯s the arm cracking, he thought as he considered not just his bones, but the incredibly volatile energy system he was bashing into the floor. It didn¡¯t really matter in the end. Clambering up slowly ¨C a feat made more difficult by the all the dead weight that was his suit ¨C the engineer slammed his back into the floor again. And again. And again. Until finally he heard the snap he had been waiting for. ¡°Faster, Erich!¡± Gravity hissed as the suit in front of her audibly whined as it¡¯s servos strained against her powers, ¡°Whatever you¡¯re thinking of doing, he sure as shit doesn¡¯t like it.¡± Erich barely heard her. Drenched with sweat, he sprawled onto his side and scooped up the detached arm; the sparking Artificer-Tech battery still held in it¡¯s feeble grasp. This is going to suck so fucking much¡­ He hesitated for just a moment, before he jammed his index finger into the device¡¯s insides through it¡¯s cracked case. It was like dipping the digit in lava. Biting his lip to stifle the shriek of pain he wanted to let loose as the material of his glove started to adhere to his skin, he found the wire he was searching for and pulled it loose before yanking his hand away. Well, at least it didn¡¯t instantly explode in my hand, he thought as he pivoted. He had never had much success with ball games. For all his ability to calculate the physics involved in the creation of an ideal throw, his ability to put it into practice was limited. Which was why he was so surprised when he lobbed the battery and his ungainly projectile arced lazily through the air to clang directly against the Hangman¡¯s helmet. Ideally, that would have been the moment his hastily improvised explosive device did explode. As it was, it clanged against the helmet and tumbled to the ground with a clatter. Then it exploded. Both he and Gravity were thrown from their feet as a vibrant pink fireball engulfed the suit. Erich¡¯s side exploded with pain again - and this time he definitely heard something crack - as he was sent sprawling against the concrete. Wincing as he clambered onto his elbows, ignoring the litany of aches and pains from his body, he saw that the spot where the Hangman has been was utterly shrouded with smoke. Oily purple smoke. ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s try and avoid breathing any of that in.¡± Myra huffed as she strode over to him, gingerly clutching her shirt torso, where a blood patch was forming in her shirt. Seems that bulletproof is not the same as blaster proof, he thought grimly. Dismissing the woman from his mind, he called out, ¡°Gravity, you still alive?¡± ¡°For now.¡± The woman grunted back from wherever she¡¯d landed. Erich nodded, ¡°Right, well keep an eye out, he might still be-¡± As if on cue, Hangman strode out of the smoke, his suit cracked and smoking, but still mobile. ¡°Motherfucker¡­¡± Myra hissed as she brought up her gun, ¡°How fucking tough do you build those things?¡± Erich didn¡¯t grace that question with an answer as he scrambled behind a nearby car. From his hiding spot, he saw that the suits barriers were completely gone, as armor plating crumpled or fell away as the heavy duty rounds of Myra¡¯s oversized machine pistol slammed into the suit. Internals he was intimately familiar with were exposed to the light of day as the suit raised its arms to deflect some of the firepower headed it¡¯s way. He saw one of the forward lights spark and fail, and realized that the bastard must have tried to use the system¡¯s ¡®flash¡¯. Not going to happen, he thought smugly as he took in the battered state of the construct. For just a moment, Erich almost believed that Myra¡¯s attack would be enough to finally end the telepath. But when her magazine ran dry the suit was still standing. One of it¡¯s arms had been completely shredded, and he could see blood as well as coolant leaking through the rents in it¡¯s armor, but the other limb was all but untouched. Myra didn¡¯t even have time to attempt to dodge before she was blasted from her feet once more by a wave of pure force. Her gun flew from her hands as her limp body was sent skidding across the carpark like a ragdoll. ¡°You people are beginning to get on my nerves.¡± The suit¡¯s damaged speakers crackled, the whole machine ominously turning towards Erich¡¯s hiding space. ¡­Shit. Chapter Twenty Six Erich narrowly avoided being splattered across the pavement as the car he was hiding behind was thrown onto it¡¯s side by a ton of angry power armor. ¡°Gravity!¡± He managed to not-quite shriek as he sprinted for his next bit of cover. Gunfire erupted from behind him as he ran, and almost instantly he heard another blast of force from the suit. Sliding into cover, he glanced out to see the sparking remains of the final outdoor drone lying in the street, while Gravity¡¯s yellow helmed head darted between burnt out cars. Sighing in relief, he glanced over to see that his momentary delay had cost him. Hangman was aiming at him once more. Time seemed to freeze as he heard the low whine of the weapon''s build up, knowing in his heart of hearts that his flimsy piece of cover would provide no protection from the powerful device. ¡®Not like this!¡¯ He thought, an unexpected rage blooming within his chest as his arms shot up in a futile attempt to protect himself. The boom that followed was as unexpected as it was welcome,=. Erich watched in disbelief as the suit''s pulse blaster failed catastrophically, blowing the suit¡¯s forearm clean off. ¡°Argh!¡± Hangman¡¯s pained shriek echoed through the battlefield as he clutched at the mangled mess of metal and wiring that remained of the suit¡¯s arm. Even from this distance, and through his surprise, Erich could see tell tale tint of vivid crimson blood amongst the hydraulic and coolant fluids dripping from the construct''s ruined appendage. ¡°You!¡± the suit turned on him once more, cutting off his momentary pang of sadistic joy as the sight. ¡°Oh shit!¡± Erich shouted as the suit charged towards him. From behind, he saw Gravity fire at it as it moved, but even with it''s dilapidated state, the suit slipped to the side with only the smallest of movements and continued its sprint toward him. Fucking telepath, Erich despaired as the Hangman''s bullshit power let the suit dodge every shot headed it''s way. ¡­Only to trip as a bevy of shots crackled across its side, destroying the right knee joint in a spray of sparks and the sound of crunching metal. Erich could only watch in dumfounded disbelief as the massive construct hit the floor with a deafening crash and slid a few more inches towards him, before coming to a grinding halt. ¡°Priority target located," an all too familiar voice announced, shattering the relative silence that followed. Doing his best impression of a goldfish, Erich glanced over to see one of the drones from within the hospital, its leg still sparking and dragging behind it as it gamely limped toward the suit. Even as his mind tried to keep up with what just happened, he found himself subconsciously tallying the damage. Frankly, he was amazed the thing was still standing; littered with bullet-holes, it¡¯s paint scorched, as if someone had tried to light it on fire, and one of it¡¯s arms hung limp - forcing it to hold it¡¯s cheap Chinese AK knock off in one hand. But its was still standing, and Erich had never seen a more beautiful sight. He was not so dumbfounded though that he didn¡¯t think to immediately dash over and yank the gun out of the cheap automata¡¯s hand while it went through the robotic motion of reloading. Or attempted to - given that it only had one arm, it had been failing. ¡°Weapon lost," it announced, in a manner that might have suggested indignation if it had come from a being capable of the emotion. Plucking a fresh clip from the drone¡¯s belt, Erich left the grasping drone behind and strode over to the downed suit. ¡°Wait, Jason!¡± a surprisingly normal, if frantic female voice coughed from within the hunk of metal, ¡°I can help you! Your sister- the organization I¡¯m a part of-¡± "Can''t move, right?" Erich grinned, before pressing the gun into the suit, honing his aim into one of the cracks. "Sucks, don''t it?" Then he pulled the trigger, luxuriating in the kick of it beneath his hands as he lit the suit up. When the gun finally clicked empty, he sighed, tossing it aside and collapsing onto his ass, wincing as pain shout of from his side from jarring impact. It was done. He''d won. Not to get back to work, he thought as he took a shuddering breath - luxuriating for just a moment in the acrid taste of gunpowder on his tongue. ¡°Is Myra still alive, Gravity?¡± He called out tiredly to the open air, only vaguely listening to the continual pop of gunfire in the background. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Jason.¡± The woman in question responded from behind him, ¡°I thought I saw her chest moving when I ran past her.¡± Erich deliberately ignored her use of his ¡®real¡¯ name. He was too tired to bother with secrets right now. ¡°And the rest of the New Brotherhood?¡± He asked as he watched the drone limp over and pick up the discarded gun, woodenly attempting to finish the reloading cycle it had started before he interrupted it. ¡°Seems they¡¯re retreating back into the hospital now that their boss is down.¡± The woman responded dispassionately. ¡°Probably waiting for reinforcements.¡± ¡°Good.¡± Erich muttered tiredly as he reached into his jacket and grabbed the detonator. ¡°That makes this next part easier.¡±
Erich stared over at his suit from his position at his worktable. It had seen much better days. Hell, one of the arms had fallen off when they finally roused Myra long enough for her to lug it into the van. Fortunate for us that the surviving White Tigers were still a bit shell-shocked by the hospitals sudden demolition. He had not been in the mood to argue about it taking up space in the van. Even if the return trip had made the original trip over there seem positively spacious by comparison. Positive outcome or not, blowing up the hospital from all of a few dozen meters away had not been his wisest move.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Still, he supposed it all worked out in the end as he took another swig of his drink. ...A drink he nearly spilled when Gravity shouted out from behind him. ¡°Oh, for fucks sake, Erich.¡± Gravity roared, box of belongings in her hands, ¡°You said you were going to get the body out of that thing! You know how hot it is in here? It''s starting to stink.¡± Turning to glare at the woman in question, he scowled, ¡°Can¡¯t a man enjoy his moment of triumph for but a few moments? ¡°Not if he wants to stay a free man.¡± Gravity shot back, ¡°We blew up a hospital. Abandoned or not. The cops and the capes aren¡¯t going to ignore that. We need to get the fuck out of town.¡± ¡­and find a doctor, went unsaid, as they were both all too aware of the silent member of their trio. Sarah was currently lying on a rack in the corner of the room, watched over by his one remaining sentry drone; who Gravity had had the audacity to name, Limpy. He had wanted to scrap for the thing for useful parts when it showed up at the shop, somehow having managed to limp home from all the way across town. More resilient design than I expected, he admitted grudgingly. ¡°How¡¯s your side, Jason?¡± Gravity eventually sighed as she slid the box into the van. Erich winced both at the reminder of his partially spilled secret and the sensation he had been attempting to dull with sweet sweet alcohol when she walked in. ¡°Only really hurts when I breathe,¡± he shrugged, regretting the motion immediately as it sent another wave of fresh agony through him. He also deliberately made no comment on her use of his ''real'' name. Part of him was hoping that if he ignored her use of it long enough it would go away. Which might have been why Gravity had zero sympathy for him when she responded, ¡°Yeah, well the sooner we get out of this city, the sooner we can find a doctor who isn¡¯t too afraid of the Red Squares or what¡¯s left of the Brotherhood to treat us all." ¡°Treat me and Sarah you mean?¡± Erich muttered with more than a little jealousy. The gravity manipulator had gotten out of the fight away from the fight with nothing more than few cuts and bruises. ¡°Yes, treat you two,¡± the woman said with an audible roll of her eyes, one that utterly failed to hide the hint of smugness beneath it. ¡°Have we even decided on a destination yet?¡± He asked, wondering when it was decided that they were all sticking together, even though there was no real need anymore. Their common cause had ended with the death of Hangman. ¡°The West Coast.¡± A new voice interrupted, startling both of them, and sending Erich¡¯s beer tumbling to the floor as he grabbed his gun. ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡± Erich muttered though gritted teeth as pain shot up his side - again - from the sudden movement, while also ignoring the belated ¡®Intruder Detected¡¯ from the useless security bot in the corner. ¡°Winter Witch.¡± The armored woman said from her position at the door, ¡°and I would tell that drone to stand down before it does something¡­ ill advised.¡± Her tone made it clear that she wasn''t going to ask nicely a second time. ¡°Designation: Limpy, stand down,¡± Erich muttered as he realized who was talking to. He let his gun drop too, but made no move to holster it. ¡°What would the leader of the Red Squares want with us?¡± Gravity asked equally wearily as she also let her weapon fall to her side. ¡°I¡¯m here to thank you for removing my biggest competitor for me," the supervillainess grinned. "After the disappearance of Hard-Light a few of my people were concerned that we might be next. More than a few suggested that we should launch a pre-emptive attack on this ¡®Hangman¡¯ before he could turn on us.¡± ¡°Because that worked so well for our crew.¡± Gravity grunted. ¡°Quite so.¡± The woman said, ¡°I was of the opinion that we should attempt to acquire more information on our foe before doing anything rash. An opinion that was only reinforced when all of my informants within the New Brotherhood went... dark¡± Something close to a frown came over her features, before the immaculately polite mask came back on, ¡°After that happened, I suggested that we should let the Brotherhood¡¯s little civil war play out first. It wouldn¡¯t for us to remind both factions that they had external enemies, lest they decide to put their own squabbles aside to deal with us. Doing so would give us time to properly mobilize for an all out engagement.¡± Erich figured that made sense, if you didn¡¯t know that Hangman was using that time to create Nazi werewolves. ¡°However, you can imagine my surprise and delight,¡± Winter Witch continued, ¡°when before even our preliminary preperations were completed, the situation was resolved for us by the remnants of Hard-Light¡¯s organization.¡± ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± Gravity said in a manner that suggested the woman was anything but, ¡°but I¡¯m willing to bet the head of the Squares didn¡¯t come all the way down to this shit-shack just to say ¡®thanks¡¯.¡± Erich couldn¡¯t decide whether to be more concerned or less by the fact that Winter Witch seemed more amused than irritated by Gravity¡¯s very ill-advised attitude. It almost eclipsed his offense at Gravity referring to his shop as a shit-shack. ¡°Quite correct, Olivia,¡± the woman smiled, ¡°you always were rather astute when you choose to be. Rare as it is.¡± Gravity didn¡¯t quite growl, but the noise she made wasn¡¯t all that far off. ¡°So, why are you here?¡± Erich said before Gravity could say something even more ill -advised. ¡°Originally, I intended to recruit you,¡± the woman admitted as she turned towards him. ¡°However, that was before I learned exactly how you finished off our latest foe.¡± The ample application of high explosives? He had to admit that without the context of Nazi Werewolves it did seem a little¡­ excessive for a gang-war. ¡°Did you really have to destroy the entire hospital?¡± the woman sighed, unknowingly echoing his own thoughts. ¡°Honestly, even in his youth Hard-Light was more subtle than that. And the man was quite the beast back then.¡± Erich shrugged, because it wasn¡¯t like he was about to explain that he wasn¡¯t so much taking out the Brotherhood as he was attempting to keep the lid on a world sundering new method of creating Metas. One that he still had no idea how Hangman had come across. Besides, well, telepathy. ¡°As a result, things have changed," she continued. "Blur arrived in the city this morning, ostensibly to investigate the recent gang violence. And with one of the Titans in New Granton, you¡¯ve all suddenly become too hot a commodity to handle. Which means you¡¯re both in the unenviable position of being too dangerous to leave alone, and too much trouble to incorporate into the Squares.¡± ¡°So you want us out of the city?¡± Erich finished. ¡°No.¡± Winter Witch shook her head, humor fading as the vicious gang leader came to the fore, ¡°my earlier suggestion wasn¡¯t a suggestion. The Red Squares want you out of the country. You make people nervous.¡± ¡°You''re exiling us.¡± Gravity muttered, spitting the word as if they were toxic. ¡°Exactly,¡± Winter Witch said unsympathetically, ¡°getting into the West Coast is easy. Getting out is significant less so. So much so that the Red Squares would feel much more comfortable with you within that madhouse''s borders." Erich was kind of worried that he was growing somewhat numb to the world crashing down around him. ...and it could be worse, was just about all he could summon up to the idea. Sure, the West Coast was an anarchic mess, but it was still better than the big brother state that was the European Union these days, or the civil war in the Pan-Asian Alliance. Those are even the better options as far as the wider world is concerned, he thought grimly. It seemed that every other week some third-world government got knocked over by one supervillain or another. He was of the opinion that pretty soon there wouldn¡¯t be any countries left outside the Big Three that weren¡¯t under the iron fist of one meta or another. Sure, the West Coast was cesspit, but at least it was a vaguely familiar cesspit. ¡°If we¡¯re such a problem, why not just kill us now and be done with it?¡± Gravity asked, prompting Erich to sputter as his thoughts ground to a halt. Gravity snarkily continued, ¡°you wouldn¡¯t even have to do it yourself. I¡¯m sure that bitch, Grey Hood, is just begging for a chance.¡± Winter Witch just shrugged, ¡°the thought certainly crossed my mind, but as I said, I am thankful to you for dealing with a problem for me. That means I¡¯m inclined to let you live for now." "How gracious," Gravity snorted. Winter Witch''s smile was as ice cold as her namesake when she turned towards the younger woman, "It is isn''t it... now get the fuck out of my city before I decided to be less gracious." To Erich''s infinite relief, Gravity was smart enough to shut up at that moment. Satisfied, the woman turned to leave, before pausing at the door, ¡°Oh, and for fucks sake, get rid of whatever body is stinking up the place. I can smell it from here. The last thing I need is for you three to get caught before even getting out of the city.¡± Chapter Twenty Seven - Book One: Epilogue Lucy looked over the carnage with a frown. Even now, work crews were still pulling bodies from the wreckage. Work crew, she mentally amended. New Granton didn¡¯t have the funds to direct more than token effort to the affair. Or rather, is unwilling to spend anything more than the bare minimum on this neighborhood, she thought as she glanced at the denizens of the area who were cautiously watching the work from a distance. They were a grim looking lot. As if feeling her eyes on them, a mother pulled her child closer before striding off, ignoring the muffled complaints of her offspring. A quick glance up and down the street gave similar results from others. Not all fled from her gaze though. Some remained to watch. To guard, she thought as she noted the gang colors adorning a number of them. The ¡®Red Squares¡¯ if she remembered her hurried readings on the trip over here. Apparently they were the dominant force in the city now that the other two factions had been driven out. They posed no real threat to her, or the work crews given that she was present, but it was still troubling to see such a blatant show of force arrayed against a Guild hero. She didn¡¯t know whether it was the norm here, or simply the result of the recent carnage. If it was the former, then the city was even worse off than she feared. If it were the latter though¡­ Well, it''s not like I can blame them. ¡°Shadow Guild.¡± She huffed under her breath as she watched yet another skeletal corpse be dragged from the rubble. This had their fingerprints all over it. A newcomer infiltrating a known gang. A brief and violent coup. The systematic destruction of other gangs in the area, and then finally the destruction of the infiltrated gang by law enforcement as they engage in more and more obvious criminal behavior. At which point the infiltrator would disappear. Or rather, that¡¯s the usual way these things go, she thought as she glanced at the carnage. Clearly someone had thrown a spanner into the works of this particular operation, because it was the ¡®New¡¯ Brotherhood that had been destroyed, and now, rather than a city with a conflicted and fractured criminal underground, there existed a single unopposed and unified force. That''s going to be a pain in the ass to remove, she thought as she fingered the baton at her side. In fact, she was reasonably sure that taking down the Red Squares would be completely impossible for the beleaguered police force within the city. The power disparity was simply too great. ¡°You have no jurisdiction here, Blur.¡± A strident voice called out over the sound of heavy machinery, ¡°This territory belongs to the New Granton Defenders.¡± And here¡¯s the reason why that disparity is so great, she sighed as she turned toward the newcomer. Valiant was not a particularly impressive man to look at. For one thing, his costume only served to display his rapidly burgeoning gut, and his lack of a visor meant that she had a clear view of the man¡¯s very bloodshot eyes. The man was an addict, and didn''t even have the good grace to do a decent job of hiding it. Behind him, the man¡¯s team were equally lackluster - if in different ways. ¡°The entire country is Olympian territory.¡± She said calmly as she let the stoic mask of Blur fall over her. ¡°We go where we feel we are needed.¡± ¡°Fuck that.¡± Valiant swore as he stormed up to her, ¡°this is our town. We don¡¯t need outside help. Least of all from you glory-hounds.¡± She shrugged, ¡°Your opinion means nothing, I go where I please.¡± ¡°I''m telling you you¡¯re wasting your goddamn time. I just said that we¡¯ll handle this!¡± Valiant spat as he started to turn crimson. Behind him, Blur could see his team cringing away from their boss. Well, at least they aren¡¯t total fools, she thought, before turning her gaze on their furious leader. It took a special kind of stupid to argue with a member of the Olympians. Still, it raised questions. Addict or not, one didn''t become the leader of a hero team without some modicum of sense. What are you hiding? She thought as she sped up her senses to better catalogue the man¡¯s many micro-expressions. Anger. Indignance. Hangover. Fear¡­ Desperation. Pressure from above? Not the Guild. Not the Guild proper. As suspected. Shadow Guild. Pressure from them. They certainly had the influence, but it would be odd for them to act so¡­ blatantly. Why? Her eyes flicked toward the shattered ruins of the hospital. A result of this operation¡¯s failure? Scrambling? Overextended? Exposed? Vulnerable? Good. Grinning, she let time resume its normal flow as she came to a decision. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think I am.¡± She said, watching the leader of her fellow hero team carefully, ¡°I think something of note happened here.¡± Something the Shadow Guild wanted covered up. And she¡¯d be damned if she¡¯d let that happen. Not when they¡¯d finally slipped up in a manner she could use to expose them. Her body started to blur and vibrate in the signature fashion that given her the moniker ¡®Blur¡¯. Valiant and his cronies paled, their various powers feebly flickering to life as they got ready for a fight. ¡°You crazy bitch, you can¡¯t be serious!?¡± A young woman called from the back. Behind her, the relief efforts ground to a halt, as members of the work crew started to notice the impending meta fight burgeoning not more than a dozen meters away. Some stayed to watch. Most started to run.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Wise, but needless, Blur observed. She could take down all of these chumps without endangering anyone. Not that it''s going to come that, because in a moment someone is going to- ¡°That¡¯s quite enough.¡± Someone called out before either side could make the first move. Right on time, Blur grinned as she turned toward the newcomer striding over, his Guild uniform creased and stained in a manner that suggested long hours and little sleep. The Shadow Guild¡¯s man on the ground. As if to reinforce her theory, she could hear the New Granton Defenders exhaling in relief at the man¡¯s approach. All except for one of them. ¡°Did you see that?¡± Valiant said as he turned toward the newcomer, ¡°this bitch was about to attack us!¡± ¡°Language, Valiant.¡± The man frowned, ¡°you represent the Guild when you put on that suit. Act like it.¡± ¡°And what about her?¡± Valiant responded, ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure picking a fight with another hero team¡¯s worse than throwing out a few curse words.¡± ¡°Rest assured, I will speak with Blur.¡± The man said, glancing toward the Olympian, ¡°in the meantime, you and your team should return to base. I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll be having anymore need of you tonight.¡± Valiant looked like he was about to speak up again, but another look from the newcomer silenced him. In the end, the hero was forced to storm off, his team trailing behind. Blur didn¡¯t bother to watch them leave, her focus was entirely on the figure across from her. ¡°Shadow Guild,¡± she grunted. ¡°God, I hate that name. We are on the same side, Lucy,¡± the man said sadly. ¡°I do wish you would come to recognize that.¡± Blur¡¯s snort of disdain said exactly what she thought of that. ¡°What are you doing here, Blur?¡± the man continued. ¡°Exactly as I said to that pathetic excuse for a hero team.¡± Blur said, ¡°starting my own investigation of what went down here.¡± ¡°That would be a gross misallocation of your time, given that Guild resources are already present¡± the man said. ¡°The Olympian¡¯s right to intervene in situations across the country was awarded on the basis that it would allow the most powerful members of the Guild to react rapidly to developing situations without the need for excess oversight or fear of stepping on the toes of other meta teams.¡± Blur nodded, ¡°which is a right I am exercising here.¡± ¡°This is not a developing situation,¡± the man shot back. ¡°And certainly not one that requires the presence of a powerful Meta.¡± Blur shook her head, ¡°I disagree, I believe that there is more to this situation than a ¡®conventional¡¯ Guild investigation will turn up.¡± It went without saying that the man in front of her was about as far from a ¡®conventional¡¯ member of the Guild as you could get. Which was exactly what she wanted to investigate, and both of them knew it. The man sighed, ¡°I had a feeling you might say that.¡± As if on cue, Blur¡¯s communicator started to ring. ¡°You might want to get that. Sounds important.¡± Scowling, Blur did exactly that, ¡°What¡¯s up, Techno?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Blur,¡± the holographic form of her fellow Olympian said wincing at her tone, ¡°I know you said you didn¡¯t want to be disturbed, but we¡¯ve got a situation developing in New York. It looks like Raider¡¯s crew is getting ready to make a move. We¡¯re all getting called in.¡± Blur resisted the urge to swear as she sent a venomous glance the Shadow Guild operative¡¯s way. Of course they''re playing both sides of the chess board... ¡°I¡¯m on my way.¡± She spat, cutting the line as soon as Techno told her where transport would be waiting for her. ¡°Don¡¯t think this is over,¡± she grunted as she turned to leave. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t do you the disservice of assuming it was,¡± the man sighed, ¡°though I still maintain the hope that you will come to see that we are on the same side in this Blur.¡± Never going to happen, she thought as she stormed away. The Shadow Guild was a blight on her grandfather¡¯s legacy, and everything the Guild stood for. Used to stand for, she corrected. It seemed that with every passing day, the Shadow Guild Movement grew in power within the Guild, and she had no idea how deep the cancer spread or how to stop it. The only thing she did know was that someone high up within the Guild¡¯s power structure was keeping the faction protected from official investigation. Someone with enough powers to get the Olympians redeployed on short notice. That was certainly a new trick for them, which suggested that they had either been holding it in reserve for a situation like this, or someone in the top brass was a recent convert. Neither suggested anything good. The worst thing was that Shadow Guild wasn¡¯t even the root problem. It was a symptom. A result of the fact that the current rules and systems weren¡¯t working. Couldn¡¯t work in a world that was rapidly being overrun by individuals with incredible powers, with no discernable cause or origin. Shadow Guild wasn¡¯t an act of callousness on the part of elements of the Guild. It was one of calculated desperation on the part of a few. Still, doesn''t make it right. She wasn¡¯t about to compromise on her grandfather¡¯s vision by bowing to fear and desperation. The ends never justify the means. And she wasn¡¯t alone in that belief. Just as the Shadow Guild had allies within the Guild and without, so did she. ¡°Did you get everything, Techno?¡± She asked as she fired up her communicator as soon as she was clear. ¡°Yep,¡± the young man chuckled from over the line, ¡°I¡¯m sending everything that was on his Omni-Pad and phone over to you.¡± Lucy felt a predatory smile pull over her lips. ¡°You¡¯re a lifesaver, Techno,¡± she complimented. ¡°I try.¡± Lucy smiled, at the giddiness in her teammates tone. Some members of her team found the young Technomancer''s youthful enthusiasm grating. She considered it a breath of fresh air. It was like having a little brother. Albeit one that wasn¡¯t quite as prickly as- No, she shut off that line of thought as a pang of shame shot through her. That had been an unworthy thought. ¡°So, what am I looking at here?¡± She asked, earlier giddiness forgotten as she glanced at her pad while walking. She knew she could do a superspeed scan of the document herself, but she knew from experience that Techno was infinitely better at picking up details that she might miss - and only slightly slower. If Techno noticed the sudden downturn in her mood, he was kind enough not to comment as he started summarizing. ¡°Not a ton to go on in here. It looks like this operation was a total clusterfuck like we guessed, and the operative they had on the ground was killed before the plan could reach the later stages.¡± Nothing they hadn¡¯t already guessed, ¡°anything we can use to finally expose these cocksuckers?¡± ¡°Maybe?" Lucy had to smile at the teen''s exaggerated wince. The boy had come a long way from his first days on the team, but she knew that deep down he still thought of her as ''Blur'' rather than Lucy. Blur didn''t curse. Lucy cursed a lot. The disparity between the two always served to catch him off guard. "I¡¯ve got the names of a number of villains that keep reoccurring during this report; Gravity, Hard-Light, Mechromancer, Myra and Bronte. Hard-Light went to ground after his initial conflict with the Shadow Guild operative, and they have no idea where he went, but the Shadow Guild has a general idea on where the others will go, if they haven''t already left.¡± ¡°Tell me.¡± Lucy asked as she heard the telltale roar of her transport swooping down from overhead. ¡°With any luck we can get to them before they leave, or the Shadow Guild does.¡± ¡°¡­The West Coast.¡± For just a second Lucy was glad for the deafening sound of the overhead vehicle¡¯s engines, because it served as ample camoflage for her loud, creative and venomous cursing. It was moments like this that really made her wish she was a conventional speedster. "Tell the pilot to fly like their life depends on it," she shouted as she clambered up the transport''s ramp. Book One Released! Well guys, emotional moment for me, book one has been released! Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B07QL1QX5C Definitely one of those things that I''ve always wanted to do, and with the help of everyone on patreon it''s now a reality. If anyone that wants to drop a review, please don''t hesitate. Every bit helps! Chapter Twenty Eight Grace clutched her prize protectively to her chest as she barrelled into the alley as fast as her short legs could take her. ¡°Fucking street rat!¡± The stall vendor yelled at her retreating back, but she knew from experience that he wouldn¡¯t bother to give chase. Too much risk of being ambushed in the labyrinthine alleyways that made up Portland¡¯s downtown. Not that she was any safer. Quite the opposite. No one would have anything to fear if she got attacked in the murky darkness. The gangs might make some token effort to investigate if a vendor was robbed or assaulted on ¡®their turf¡¯, but a street rat? Not a chance. Which was why she kept a wary eye about her as she slowed to a quick walk, sure that the vendor from before wouldn¡¯t be following. The sauces from the hotdog she had stolen were smearing the inside of her ratty jacket as she held it close, but she paid that no particular heed. It wasn¡¯t as if the jacket had been clean to begin with. No, she¡¯d rather deal with a few more stains than risk another street rat seeing her prize. She couldn¡¯t hide the scent though, and her stomach rumbled as the tantalizing odour of fried meat wafted upward. It was only through sheer force of will that she managed to keep herself from eating the bun there and then. No, it was better to wait until she was back at the little hidey hole she tentatively called her ¡®home¡¯ before tucking into the delicious morsel. Besides, the feeling of warmth from the heated meat was nice enough in its own way, even it couldn¡¯t quite compare to the sensation of a full belly. The thought made her grin as she imagined sinking her teeth into the warm meat. ¡°Well, what do we have here?¡± a voice called out, startling her. Cursing her momentary distraction, Grace tried to run, but something grabbed her jacket from behind, roughly yanking her back. She couldn¡¯t help but emit a whine of both surprise despair as her hard won prize slipped from her grip to splatter against the cold concrete. ¡°Look¡¯s like a thief, Darrel.¡± The voice of the man holding her answered, stomping on the meat with callous cruelty. Glancing about with wide eyes, Grace saw that she¡¯d been hemmed in by three men. Third Quarter Kings, she thought with a sinking feeling as she noted that all three were wearing varying amounts of vivid purple on their person. She tried to struggle, but a quick shake of her jacket dissuaded that. ¡°Now, now, none of that.¡± The one who was apparently Darrel said. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t want to force Steve to get rough with you now.¡± Grace chanced a glance in the direction of the man holding her, and shuddered at the eagerness in his eyes. She¡¯d seen eyes like that before. Her father had had eyes like that, especially if he¡¯d been drinking. Glancing around for help, she saw none coming. The few homeless had been occupying the alley had disappeared, and no one from out in the street glanced in. Quite the opposite, they deliberately glanced away from it. She knew their was no point in yelling either. The onlyresponse screams received in Portland was people turning in the opposite direction. Nothing good ever came from getting involved. She¡¯d done it herself often enough - without even thinking about it really. It was just what you did. The city was dangerous enough without going looking for trouble. Glancing to the one member of the group who had yet to speak, her heart sank as she took in his bored expression. He wasn¡¯t enjoying this, but he wouldn¡¯t help her either. This was just a job to him. She tried to glare at the one she assumed to the groups leader, ¡°I was just-¡± ¡°Stealing.¡± He interrupted, ¡°You were just stealing. On the turf of the Three Quarter Kings.¡± She indignantly shook her head, ¡°I was hungry. I just took one hotdog!¡± The vendor had had a box full of them. She¡¯d seen them! The one named Darrel nodded along with feigned sympathy, ¡°I get ya¡¯. I really do. Even been there myself, if you can believe it? Still, sympathetic or not, we can¡¯t have just people stealing from people on our turf without consequence. Makes us look weak, see?¡± ¡°Weak.¡± Steve echoed, giving her a perfunctory tug of her jacket. ¡°Exactly.¡± Darrel nodded along, ¡°and we can¡¯t have that. So, we¡¯re either going to have to punish you,¡± Grace shuddered as a shiver of excitement ran through the arm holding her, ¡°or we can have you pay in¡­ another way.¡± Despite her attempt at bravado, Grace couldn¡¯t help the small whimper that leaked out of her as the man¡¯s eyes roamed over her with obvious intent. ¡°Really, Darrel?¡± The third member of the trio finally piped up. ¡°She looks like she¡¯s barely fifteen.¡± She had turned eighteen in March actually, but living on the streets hadn¡¯t exactly done wonders for her development, so she looked much younger; a fact that she was more than happy for, as a look of disgust rolled over the third King¡¯s face. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. For just a moment, a small hope blossomed in her chest, but it was dashed at the third King turned away. ¡°Whatever, I¡¯ll go keep watch. Last thing I wanna¡¯ see is your pale ass flopping all over some kid.¡± Darrel shrugged, not at all bothered by casual insult as the man walked away, before turning back to her. ¡°So? What¡¯s it gonna be, girl? Payment or punishment? I can assure you, Steve and I will have our fun either way.¡± In a final desperate act of defiance - one she hadn¡¯t even known she was capable of - Grace tried to spit at him, but her mouth had gone dry. Still, Darrel seemed to take that as answer enough. ¡°Punishment it is then. Shame.¡± Grace flinched as he drew back his fist, only to shriek as Steve suddenly pulled her to ground, burying her underneath his bulk. She hissed and spat as the heavy man lay and top of her, desperately trying to push him off, but his form would not be shifted as he lay on her like¡­ Dead weight? As soon as the thought ran through her mind, she saw the steaming hole in the man¡¯s back and let out another shriek of surprise as she realized that was buried under a corpse. Looking up she saw that Darrel was just as surprised, as he glanced from the hole up to something behind her and froze. ¡­then he tried to run. Emphasis on the word tried, because he barely made it through his first step before a glowing beam of something struck him full in the back and sent him sprawling to floor with a disgusting ¡®popping¡¯ sound. For just a moment, Grace felt a sense of stunned relief as she saw that two of her three assailants were down, and as she glanced over, she saw that the third one had fled. Then she realized that she was still under a corpse that was too heavy for her to move, and whatever had killed her attackers was still around. If she were a bit more na?ve, she might have been willing to believe that someone had acted to save her. A hero, or other do-gooder ¨C but the last few years of being homeless in a city controlled by a supervillain had dissuaded her from that line of thinking. It was a fast route to disappointment, and an even faster route to becoming just another corpse in this city. Which was why, when she heard the heavy thump of something moving behind her, something that she couldn¡¯t turn her head far enough to see, she started ever more frantically trying to push Steve¡¯s massive corpse of her. It wouldn¡¯t move though, and with every passing moment the thing got closer, it¡¯s massive footfalls echoing through the alley. She was trying to pull on Steve¡¯s arm when the sound behind her stopped not more than a few feet away. Resigned, but still terrified, she lay back to find herself staring into the mask of massive suit of power armor. ¡­Supervillain. Her mouth went dry again, and her heart skipped a beat when the suit finally spoke. ¡°Bingo.¡±
Gravity hissed in irritation as she finally levered the door open to the rundown store she and Erich had bought. The hinges were rusty as all hell, and resisted just about every attempt by her to pull it open with one hand while the other clutched a number of different shopping bags. ¡°Welcome to Erich¡¯s Armaments.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± she said as she stepped inside the dimly lit interior, ¡°nice of you to stand there and watch me trying to get the door open. And I thought we agreed that Gravity¡¯s Guns sounded-¡± That wasn¡¯t Erich¡¯s voice, she realized belatedly. By the front desk - where Erich was supposed to be standing! - was not the man himself, but a very grubby looking teen in a ratty jacket, mouth smeared with mustard and ketchup. The girl stood glaring at Gravity, hands hovering protectively over what looked to be a pile of different street vending foods. Limpy stood in the corner, as placid as ever, weapon in hand but clearly inactive. Even as Gravity watched in vague incomprehension, the girl carelessly shoved a meat bun into her mouth, not even waiting to swallow before she started to speak again. ¡°We stock everything from weapons to armor, all at very affordable prices.¡± Gravity, stared for a few more seconds after the girl had finished her spiel. Long enough apparently, for the girl to get annoyed. ¡°Listen lady, are you going to buy something or not? Because if not, I might have to ask you to leave.¡± As if to reinforce her threat, she raised one grubby hand, and Limpy leapt to life, raising his weapon. ¡­and he gave her ¡®bot privileges¡¯, she thought as she dumped the shopping bags on the floor, because of course he did¡­ ¡°Erich!¡± She shouted, startling the girl and the bot, ¡°get the fuck down here!¡± Chapter Twenty Nine ¡°What the fuck, Erich?¡± Gravity groused as they stepped out onto the street, flanked on each side by what they had now dubbed Spartoi drones. Or rather, Gravity had named them, and Erich hadn¡¯t cared to argue. He shrugged, uncomfortably aware of the fact that he wasn¡¯t in his armour as he took a breath of the garbage laced air of Portland. ¡°Needed to work on the suit,¡± he coughed. ¡°One of the legs damn near seized up when I tried to take it around the block.¡± ¡°Yeah, well you should have been in the store, rather than taking it out for a spin anyway,¡± Gravity said as she glanced up and down the street, laser rifle cradled in her hands ¨C not his best work, but competent enough. ¡°Yeah, well I don¡¯t know about you, but I would feel much more comfortable with a suit of functioning power armor between me and whatever else comes to take a bite out of my ass,¡± he grunted as Gravity gestured for the drones in the store to come out, Sarah¡¯s comatose form on a stretcher between them. The months of inactivity had not been kind to the woman¡¯s frame. Still, she was in better shape than most people would be in her situation, a fact Erich was willing to attribute to the fact that she was a Meta. Natural hardiness was something they all seemed to have, no matter what their actual power was. Which had ever been a source of envy for him ¨C amongst other things ¨C whenever he came down with a cold and the rest of his family¡­ didn¡¯t. ¡°Yeah, well I don¡¯t know about you, but I would feel a lot more comfortable with some actual money in my pocket and a guarantee that there¡¯s gonna be food in the fridge next week.¡± Gravity snarked back. ¡°In case you forgot, getting across the border and buying this shithole wasn¡¯t cheap.¡± ¡°Perhaps if you had some actual goddamn contacts it would have been.¡± Erich groused back. ¡°Hell, you don¡¯t even know who drained his accounts.¡± And hadn¡¯t that been a kick in the teeth¡­ The pair of them were down to their personal funds. Which, while pretty considerable for individuals, were also far from limitless. ¡°Me!?¡± Gravity asked incredulously as the drones clambered into the back of the van with Sarah, ¡°Why the fuck would I have contacts? Or know a thing about ¡®accounts¡¯ and shit?¡± ¡°You¡¯re the crime bosses¡¯ daughter!¡± Erich pointed out as he clambered into the passenger seat. ¡°I was infrequent muscle,¡± Gravity muttered as she slipped into the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°All of the people stuff was Sarah.¡± Erich resisted the urge to call her ¡®dumb muscle¡¯ as they set off. He knew she wasn¡¯t dumb. Just not particularly invested in anything that didn¡¯t immediately affect her. ¡°Whatever,¡± he grimaced. ¡°I don¡¯t want to go over this argument again.¡± Gravity shot him a glance, tone softening marginally as she took a calming breath, ¡°unfortunately we have to. We¡¯re both nearly flat broke, and you¡¯ve just hired on an employee. Now, that would have been fine in a few weeks when we had some sales coming in, but right now¡­¡± Oh? ¡°That¡¯s the problem?¡± Erich snorted. ¡°Wages?¡± Gravity glanced at him, ¡°in short, yes.¡± Well in that case, he already had a solution. ¡°Our newest employee has agreed to work for the low price of food, shelter and other sundries,¡± he said proudly. To be fair, he was reasonably certain that she had agreed to that deal out of a misplaced belief that he would crush her head like a grape if she argued. Still, she was in a much better situation now than she was in before he intervened. That had to count for something. Unfortunately, if the look Gravity was giving him was any indication, his companion was not in agreement with his results orientated approach to proactive employment strategies. ¡°That¡¯s slavery!¡± She hissed, ¡°we are not hiring on a slave.¡± Bit late for that¡­ He shrugged, ¡°if it makes you feel any better, you can think of it as an internship.¡± Gravity gaped and spluttered for a moment, before ultimately deflating. ¡°As soon as we have the cash to do so, we¡¯re hiring her properly,¡± she muttered sullenly. ¡°We are not getting involved in the slaving business.¡± Which was a very real and established business on the West Coast, so he figured it was fair that she felt the need to specify. ¡°Fair enough.¡± He shrugged. It made no difference to him. So long as he didn¡¯t have to spend time dealing with customers, and had a steady supply of parts, he was happy enough. Sensing the lull in the conversation, he took the opportunity to peer out the window at the strange city they found themselves in. Guns. Those were the first thing he noticed. Not a single person out on the street was unarmed. Hell, many weren¡¯t even lightly armed. Erich could see two young Asian men who couldn¡¯t have been more than fifteen wandering down the street with assault rifles casually dangling from straps around their neck. Shitty assault rifles, that looked to be more rust than metal, but assault rifles nonetheless. The other thing he noticed was the diversity of the crowd. Not that New Granton had lacked much on that account, but like most American cities it had possessed a predominantly Caucasian populace. Portsmouth was not nearly so consistent. Which Erich supposed only made sense when one considered the state of the rest of the world. The planet was replete with hellholes whose populaces were hoping to find a better - or at least a longer - life on distant shores. Not that I imagine many of them found it here, he thought as he saw two groups of different ethnicities throwing insults, and the occasional blunt object, at each other. He also noted that just as many members of both ethnicities present in the street were determinedly averting their eyes from the display of racial violence. It seemed that for every asshole who was out to stir up trouble, there were as many again who just wanted to live in peace. Nothing new there, he mused. As they drove, Erich spotted two other brawls, a few ¡®probably¡¯ dead bodies, and a man with his pants down enjoying the affections of a prostitute in the entrance of an alleyway. Portsmouth was a classy place. ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯re in Kansas anymore,¡± Gravity muttered, drawing him from his thoughts. ¡°What?¡± He asked. ¡°I said ¡®I don¡¯t think we¡¯re in Kansas anymore.¡¯¡± She repeated, before giving him a look, ¡°you know, Kansas? Toto? Yellow brick road?¡± ¡°I have no idea what you are talking about.¡± Gravity rolled her eyes before retuning her gaze to the road, ¡°Ugh, philistine. No appreciation for the classics.¡± Erich shrugged. He assumed his companion was referencing something from popular media, but he had no idea what. His childhood hadn¡¯t left a lot of room for fun, and his adulthood had been much the same. The only time he really indulged as a youth was when he partook of the occasional tome from his grandfather¡¯s library. And that had been a very rare occasion indeed. ¡°We nearly there?¡± He asked, more to keep himself from thinking of the past than out of any real interest. ¡°Yeah,¡± Gravity gestured, ¡°should be just a few streets over.¡± The woman was as good as her word, and within a few moments they were pulling up in front of a building with the words ¡®DOCTOR¡¯ emblazoned on it in red neon lights. ¡°Nice place,¡± Erich muttered as he clambered out. And it was. At least, compared to most of the other buildings in the area. But that hadn¡¯t really been what he was commenting on. ¡°Meta-Healers are a hot commodity,¡± Gravity said in reference to the heavy-duty turrets blatantly on display out front. ¡°Those things are probably the only thing keeping our would-be doctor from being carted off into the night.¡± ¡°I guess that explains why he was so eager to barter,¡± Erich said as he pulled open the rear doors of the van to let their own drones clamber out. ¡°She,¡± Gravity winced as the pair holding Sarah hit the floor with a jerky thud, rocking their cargo. ¡°And couldn¡¯t you have made them be a bit more delicate?¡± Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. He shrugged. He could have, but functionality had been his main concern when he came up with the original design. And that hadn¡¯t changed in the intervening weeks since they¡¯d had to flee New Granton. ¡°Will be a moot point in a few hours,¡± he deflected. ¡°Assuming this healer is as good as you said she is.¡± ¡°She better be,¡± Gravity muttered as they set off toward the clinic. ¡°The materials to build these drones weren¡¯t cheap, and now we¡¯re damn near out of Meta-Tech.¡± Something I am more than aware of, Erich thought sourly as he considered the current deficit of building materials available to him. The sooner they found a reliable source of Meta-Tech parts, the happier he would be. The sensation of being tracked by the two turrets was kind of unnerving, but the comfortable weight of the shield system on his chest managed to keep him from flat out refusing to advance. ¡°Intruders detected.¡± An artificial voice intoned, ¡°Cease advance or be fired upon.¡± Instantly his own drone¡¯s guns were up ¨C along with Erich¡¯s heart rate. ¡°Hostility detected.¡± The four drones responded in sync, ¡°preparing to engage.¡± ¡°Hold fire,¡± Gravity muttered as she lifted up her Omni-Pad, ¡°We¡¯re here to see the Cleric. Visitor ID, Epsilon-Charlie-Beta-Yankee.¡± ¡°Acknowledged,¡± the turrets intoned. ¡°Please remain still until a member of staff clears you. Attempts to advance or leave will be met with force.¡± ¡°Lovely,¡± Erich muttered as they stood stock-still and waited. He also noted that Gravity hadn¡¯t instructed the drones to stand down; just not to engage. Glad to see I¡¯m not the only one who¡¯s feeling a little paranoid. Fortunately for his nerves, and rapidly fraying patience, it didn¡¯t take long for the front door and reveal a particularly harried looking woman in a doctor¡¯s coat. ¡°Are you Gravity and¡­ Mechromancer?¡± the woman asked with an audible hint of nervousness. ¡°Yep,¡± Gravity nodded, ¡°and I assume you¡¯re the Cleric?¡± The woman nodded jerkily, before standing aside, ¡°please come in. I¡¯ve been looking forward to this visit.¡± Feels like it, Erich thought cynically as he strode forward, glancing at the turrets that were still tracking his every move. Then again, he figured the woman had good reason to be paranoid. He imagined he wouldn¡¯t be particularly trusting either if he had an ability as coveted as hers in a city like this. Still, vague feelings of sympathy aside, he wasn¡¯t about to tell the drones to go to full stand down either. The clinic had a very ¡®lived¡¯ in feel to it. As in, it was pretty clear that Cleric was living there. And has been for some time, Erich thought with a disdainful sniff as he surveyed the crumpled clothes and piles of takeout strewn all over the place. ¡°Cozy,¡± Erich murmured. ¡°It¡¯s a shithole,¡± Cleric grunted as she casually swept aside a bunch of blankets to reveal a cot that had clearly seen better days. ¡°One that I might finally be able to escape with those drones of yours.¡± ¡°You¡¯re stuck here?¡± Gravity asked as the drones levered Sarah none-too-gently onto the cot. The woman shrugged as she laid her hands on the blonde, ¡°I used to have an arrangement with the gang who ruled this area. Claws. Nice enough as far as gangs went. Unfortunately for me, they got driven out a few weeks ago, and the new owners are not quite as¡­ nice.¡± ¡°So you¡¯re stuck here?¡± Erich said. ¡°Pretty much,¡± the woman said as her fingers lightly probed the bandages around Sarah¡¯s neck, ¡°stuff like this has happened before, so the clinic¡¯s stocked with food and water. Usually I just had to let the turrets hold any would be attackers off and wait for the Claw¡¯s counter attack.¡± She sighed as she took her hands away, ¡°unfortunately, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s going to happen this time. The Third Street Kings were pretty thorough. From what little I¡¯ve heard, the Claw¡¯s don¡¯t really exist anymore.¡± ¡°We could get you out of here,¡± Gravity offered, prompting Erich to shoot her a glare. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t even need the drones then.¡± Cleric shook her head, ¡°thanks, but no thanks. I¡¯m not leaving my clinic behind. Besides, if these drones are as good as you said, I should be safe enough to be able to come and go without too much trouble. The Kings want to get their hands on me, but I doubt they¡¯re willing to risk losing a few of their number to do it.¡± Erich had his doubts about that, but he wasn¡¯t about to argue with the woman. It was pretty clear that she was desperate. That didn¡¯t really facilitate much in the way of objective thought processes. ¡°Ok, then,¡± Erich interrupted before Gravity could say anything else. ¡°So, can you help our friend?¡± The tired looking brunette startled slightly, as if only just reminded of the reason why they were there, even though she¡¯d assumedly been in the process of diagnosing Sarah. ¡°Sure,¡± she said, a more professional tone entering her voice. ¡°The damage is pretty bad though. Reasonably sure she would be dead if she wasn¡¯t a Meta. As it stands, I doubt she would have ever woken up without my, or another healer¡¯s, help.¡± ¡°Great,¡± Gravity said. ¡°Any side effects? And how long will it take.¡± Cleric shrugged, ¡°a few scars and a little stiffness in the affected area. Her throat got the worst of it, so her voice will be probably be a little¡­ hoarser than you remember. Though, on the bright side, it should only take a few hours for my powers to work.¡± Gravity didn¡¯t look entirely happy about the mention of scarring, but eventually relief seemed to win out over worry. ¡°Great,¡± she smiled. ¡°We don¡¯t have anywhere to be, so would it be ok if we wait here for you to be done.¡± Cleric shrugged as she laid her hands on Sarah¡¯s throat once more, ¡°fine by me. Make yourself comfy wherever.¡± Gravity nodded and moved to sit down, only to freeze as Erich spoke up. ¡°Actually, I think I might head back to the shop,¡± he announced. ¡°The suit still needs a lot of work done if I want it to be operational again.¡± And he had a few ideas for upgrades. Assuming they still had the parts available after the suit¡¯s repair. Hell, I might give the entire thing a retrofit, he thought. ¡°Call me when it¡¯s done, and I¡¯ll swing back round to pick you up,¡± he said as he moved to leave, indicating for two of the drones to fall in behind him. ¡°What?¡± Gravity hissed in surprise, ¡°you aren¡¯t going to stick around for when she wakes up?¡± Erich froze mid-step. ¡°No?¡± That had clearly been the wrong answer, because Gravity¡¯s face took an angry tinge, ¡°for fuck¡¯s sake, Erich? She¡¯s coming out of a coma. Her home¡¯s gone. Her dad might be dead. She¡¯s going to be just a little freaked out when she wakes up, and you can¡¯t spare a few hours to be here when she does!?¡± Erich felt his own frown forming, ¡°I sincerely doubt my presence would bring her any extra comfort.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t be serious?¡± Gravity looked flabbergasted and more than a little disappointed, ¡°the pair of you were together before she went down.¡± Erich resisted the urge to scoff, ¡°we were fucking.¡± Or rather, she was fucking him, and he wasn¡¯t raising too much of a complaint about it. Emotional connection hadn¡¯t exactly been a factor, as he had zero doubt that the sex had been part of some ploy to get him on her ¡®side¡¯. She hadn¡¯t exactly been subtle about it. Gravity scowled, ¡°it was more than that. She might have hidden it, but I knew it meant something to her. She might talk a big game, but she doesn¡¯t¡­ she doesn¡¯t do stuff like that.¡± That time Erich did scoff, ¡°you¡¯re being na?ve - and reading far too much into it. Pretty sure her being in a coma for a couple of months has made you forget what she was like.¡± Gravity tried to speak, but he didn¡¯t want to hear it. ¡°Call me when you need pick up,¡± he grunted as he turned to leave, two Spartoi falling in beside him. Won¡¯t matter to Sarah whether I¡¯m here or not when she wakes up. He had no illusions about what he had been to the supervillain¡¯s daughter. They¡¯d been using each other. That was it. Chapter Thirty ¡°Uh, Boss? We¡¯ve got a problem.¡± Erich hissed with frustration as he set down a wrench. ¡°Can¡¯t you handle it?¡± Grace, he recalled after a few moments of staring at the nervously shuffling young woman. ¡°I¡­ you want me to use the drone?¡± She said after a few moments. ¡°Spartoi,¡± he nodded. ¡°That¡¯s what it¡¯s there for.¡± He had given her control over it specifically because he didn¡¯t want to be bothered by every little problem. ¡°I don¡¯t think that would be a good idea, Boss.¡± She winced, ¡°I really think you should see this.¡± Of course, you do. Seeing that he wasn¡¯t about to get out of this, Erich irritably clambered to his feet, ineffectually wiping his grimy hands on his pants as he did. Ignoring the young woman¡¯s obvious relief, he followed her as she fled back into the shop. For just a second, he considered telling her to stop calling him ¡®boss¡¯. I could get used to it though, he decided. As he stepped into the store he became aware of the fact that someone was pounding on the front door with more enthusiasm than was strictly required. ¡°Why¡¯s it locked?¡± he asked. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to open right now.¡± Grace wordlessly gestured to the monitor behind the counter. Ah, Erich thought as he took in the view from the camera. Outside stood a good dozen people decked out in the paraphernalia of the same goons that he¡¯d ¡®rescued¡¯ Grace from. It wasn¡¯t entirely surprising. He knew he¡¯d made a mistake in letting one of them escape. Unfortunately, it wasn¡¯t like he¡¯d had much of a choice. The suit¡¯s aim-assist was still non-functional, and he¡¯d been far from confident that he¡¯d have been able to hit the running man without braining an innocent bystander. Perhaps I should have fired anyway? He wondered. ¡°What¡¯s the group¡¯s name?¡± He asked, startling Grace, who had been nervously shuffling in the background. It was kind of amusing, considering Gravity claimed the girl had quite the attitude around her. Around him though, she was meek as a mouse. Might have something to do with me murdering two gangsters in front of her, he decided. ¡°The Third Street Kings.¡± Grace finally responded. ¡°Are they strong?¡± He grunted, momentarily regretting his earlier rashness. He blamed the low light of the alley. He¡¯d thought the trio of gangsters were just another group of muggers. It had only been when he¡¯d gotten close that he¡¯d realized they were wearing gang colors. Once again, he cursed the fact that his suit was barely operational. This was a problem he might have avoided if the night vision system was working. ¡°Uh¡­ yes?¡± Grace responded uncertainly, either ignorant ¨C or entirely aware of ¨C the fact that he was mentally debating the merits of throwing her out in an attempt to assuage the angry group outside. ¡°Compared to who? The Saints? The United Front?¡± He said as he recalled the gangs in the area that he was aware of. Unfortunately, who owned what changed daily, so the organizations he felt the need to be aware of a week ago weren¡¯t the same ones he needed to be aware of now. ¡°Ummm¡­ Stronger than the Fronters for sure, but I think they steer clear of the Saints.¡± That¡­ that¡¯s good? He decided, Not ideal, but not a total disaster either. Coming to a decision, he reached over to flick on the store¡¯s intercom, ¡°we aren¡¯t open, so fuck off.¡± The gang members flinched at the sudden voice, but recovered quickly. ¡°We aren¡¯t here to buy, motherfucker. We¡¯re here to talk.¡± Erich sighed, ¡°not interested.¡± The leader spat to the side, ¡°I think you will be, fuckhead. I don¡¯t think you understand how things work around here, so me and my pals are about to educate your dumbass.¡± Erich felt himself twitch at being called ¡®dumb¡¯ by this philistine. Off to the side, he noticed that at least Grace looked to be calming down. Either his confidence was rubbing off on her or she¡¯d realized he wasn¡¯t about to throw her out to avoid a fight. Smart girl either way. Well¡­ smart for her location and position in life. He hated the idea of using the word ¡®street smart¡¯, so he mentally dubbed her as having a ¡®low cunning¡¯. Sounds much better. ¡°Still not hearing a reason to open this door,¡± Erich responded, as his thoughts returned to the matter at hand. The leader kicked the door again, ¡°how about I give you a reason then? Open this door and I might let you walk away with just a beating for fucking with the Kings.¡±This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Yeah, pull the other one asshole, Erich snorted. He sincerely doubted that after killing two of their members they were about to let him off with a beating. More than likely they were here to make an example of him, and anyone else that might be conveniently nearby. Still, there was an opportunity here. ¡°Alright,¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t do anything hasty. I¡¯ll be right out.¡± The look of horror on Grace¡¯s face as he stood up was comical. ¡°That should buy me a few minutes,¡± he grunted as he flicked the intercom off. ¡°Stay here in case they try to push in anyway. Don¡¯t open the door.¡± Ignoring the girl¡¯s halfhearted attempts to stop him, he strode back into the store and over to his partially deconstructed suit. Where did I drop that wrench?
¡°Is this asshole coming or what?¡± Chastity grumbled irritably from the back of the group; her gun casually laid over her shoulder. Alloy shrugged, happy to let the guy stew before he tried to rush it along. In his experience a little patience paid dividends when it came to pushing around shop owners. If you pushed too hard and cornered them, they were liable to do something stupid, like try and fight back. More than a few of his buddies had learned that lesson the hard way; a belly full of buckshot from some middle-aged shop owner. Nah, it was better to let them believe they had a way out. Less risk that way. Besides, you could kill them even easier once they let their guard down. Not that this guy is gonna be lucky enough to get a quick death, he thought. The boss had been clear. Two of their guys were dead, and an example had to be made. Even if one of them was Darrel. Creepy kiddy fiddling bastard. ¡°Probably trying to hide his wife and kids if he¡¯s got em¡¯,¡± one of his guys said. ¡°Valuables if he don¡¯t¡­ or, he¡¯s grabbing that suit that Gene mentioned,¡± the guy added as an afterthought. Alloy shrugged. Wouldn¡¯t do him much good either way. The Kings were old hands at this by now. An Artificer fresh off his event was nothing new. And if Gene¡¯s description of just how crappy said suit was, this guy was very fresh. There was a rumbling from the side of the store as one of the garage doors finally started to slide up. ¡°Bout fucking time,¡± Chastity grumbled as she brought her gun up. Around her the others did the same, and Alloy started to pull on his own powers; relishing the heady rush that ran through him as his entire body turned to steel. At least, he assumed it was steel. He wasn¡¯t entirely sure on the specifics, but he did know that steel sounded impressive, so that¡¯s what he said it was whenever he was asked. It was only though long experience, and faith in his abilities, that he didn¡¯t jump like the others at the sight of the suit as it stepped out. Instead he stood still and took note of the many gaping holes in the thing¡¯s structure. This thing isn¡¯t a threat, he scoffed. ¡°Motherfucker,¡± he scoffed, eliciting a few nervous chuckles from his compatriots. ¡°If this is your attempt at scaring us off, you¡¯re gonna be disappointed.¡± Despite the intervening mass of metal, Alloy could see the way the figure within jolted at the sight of his silvery skin. Asshole clearly hadn¡¯t been expecting to fight another Meta. Well, jokes on you numb-nuts, he thought with a grin. You and your piece of shit Artificer-Tech suit bit off more than you could chew when you tried to play hero. Which wasn¡¯t uncommon. So many punks got powers and assumed they were worth shit now. Most lived just long enough to learn that they were just another little fish in a big fucking pond. So yeah, the real question was whether the punk was going to try and run now that he knew he was outmatched. Not that he¡¯s gonna get very in that hunk of junk, Alloy scoffed. ¡°Just a little extra protection for this¡­ talk of ours,¡± the guy said finally, likely coming to the same conclusion. Alloy shrugged. It made no difference to him. Suit or no suit, nothing was gonna stop him from tearing this guy apart. ¡°Yeah, about that.¡± He grunted, eager to get the fa?ade over with. He threw a punch, aiming for one of the holes in the guy¡¯s armor. ¡­Only for his fist to slam into an invisible barrier. ¡°What the fu-¡± he managed to cry out before something clamped over his head.
Erich couldn¡¯t help but feel a bit peculiar about the situation as he squeezed down on the Brute¡¯s metallic head, wincing only a little as the screaming started. Rounds started slamming into him almost immediately from the panicked goons, but they all bounced off his hard-light barriers. Why Hard-Light never switched to ultraviolet light, I¡¯ll never know, Erich mused, more than happy with his latest alteration. Unfortunately, that was the only thing he was happy about in regard to the current situation; as with the sound of shrieking metal and a distinctly off-putting squelch, the screaming finally stopped. Lovely, Erich grimaced, paling slightly at the sight of the now headless corpse dropping to the ground. Yep, rising degree of comfort with cold blooded murder aside, crushing a man¡¯s skull with his suit wasn¡¯t something he thought he was ever going to be comfortable with. And I still don¡¯t know why he was so confident, Erich pondered as more rounds pinged off his suit, prompting him to grab the metalic corpse by the leg and fling it at the nearest thug. Even a casual glance at the Meta had told him that his metal skin was loaded with impurities. Impurities that suggested weak and brittle metal. The blotchy texture of it had been so obvious. Hell, it had been enough for Erich to pause to wonder if the guy had had some kind of backup waiting in the wings. But nope, he was just an idiot, Erich concluded as he watched the headless projectile slam into his target with a crunch, sending both figures barreling to the floor. Brittle or not, he doubted that thug would be getting up any time soon. That was the moment the ¡®Kings¡¯ decided to cut and run, and for a moment Erich considered giving chase, before deciding against it. The last thing he wanted to do was get involved in a running battle in the city¡¯s back alleys. Not in a suit that was barely functional. Hell, he¡¯d been fortunate that he hadn¡¯t had to step too far from the store, because the leg was still acting up. New barriers are drawing a bit too much juice from the generator as well, he noted after quick glance at the HUD. Which wasn¡¯t all that surprising he supposed. He¡¯d only just got them functioning with UV light that morning. Striding over, he got ready to go through the tedious process of figuring out how to dispose of the corpses before¡­ Before what? He scoffed. The cops wouldn¡¯t be coming for them. The city didn¡¯t even have cops. Well, if you look at it from a different perspective, these guys were the cops. And wasn¡¯t that a mindfuck. ¡°Grace?¡± Erich called back to the store. ¡°Y-yes, Boss?¡± The young woman¡¯s voice called out over the intercom. ¡°What to do people usually do with corpses around here?¡± He asked, wondering where he¡¯d gone wrong in life that that was a question he actually had to ask. ¡°Uh,¡± the woman hesitated. ¡°Normally the gangs just kind of leave them for¡­¡± She trailed off just as Erich noticed that he was being watched. Or rather the bodies were. A few of the homeless population that had initially scarpered the second the shooting began had reappeared. Suddenly he felt a bit ill. ¡°You don¡¯t¡­ you don¡¯t eat them, do you?¡± ¡°What!? No!¡± Grace shrieked indignantly, disgust finally showing through her nervousness, ¡°we don¡¯t eat them you ass! We do¡­ strip them for valuables though.¡± Ah, that explains the interest. Still, he didn¡¯t want a pair of naked corpses stinking up his street any more than he wanted a pair of fully clothed ones - if not out of squeamishness, then out of the very real worry for disease. ¡°Oi, you!¡± Erich said, gesturing to the nearest bum ¨C a young man who froze in terror as he turned toward him. ¡°I don¡¯t care if you strip these guys down to the skivvies, but I don¡¯t want them to still be out on the street when I get back. Shove them in a dumpster or something.¡± Problem solved, he turned to walk away, only to turn back as a thought occurred to him. ¡°And don¡¯t use my dumpster either.¡± The last thing he wanted to do was have to explain to Gravity ¨C and Sarah, he guessed ¨C why there was a pair of naked gangbanger corpses in the recycling bin. And yes, somehow the city managed to have a recycling service. Chapter Thirty One It seemed that Grace regretted her earlier show of temerity, because she had remained in the shop and out of sight after he returned to his workshop. Which was fine by him, he was more than happy to sit back, relax and get down to some serious- ¡°Well, it¡¯s good to see you didn¡¯t the opportunity to run off after walking out on Sarah and I.¡± Gravity¡¯s voice called out. Erich sighed, and placed down the omni-pad he¡¯d been looking over. How did they even get back? He wondered, because I¡¯ve got the van. A mystery for another time he supposed. ¡°Why would I run?¡± he said, keeping his eyes firmly ahead. ¡°My reasoning is as valid now as it was then.¡± He thought he might have felt some nervousness at admitting that, now that Sarah was assumedly up and moving around. He didn¡¯t though. No shame either. Just a vague sense of irritation at the whole situation. ¡°I helped to get her healing, didn¡¯t I?¡± He snorted, ¡°lugged her across the border. Built the suits we traded to get her back on her feet.¡± He finally turned to look at them. Gravity was standing there, arms folded and looking entirely unimpressed. He barely gave her a glance. His focus was entirely on Sarah. Who was wearing Gravity¡¯s helmet for some reason. That was the only thing of Olivia¡¯s she was wearing though. Gravity had taken Sarah¡¯s old costume with them when they went to the healer¡¯s, and the woman was wearing it now. To his surprise, it wasn¡¯t hanging off her frame like he might have expected. Instead, it seemed that Cleric¡¯s power had restored her to fitness, leaving her just as fit and healthy as she had been a few months back. No¡­ not entirely, he noted, as he finally realized the reason for the helmet. Scars. A patchwork of them. Thick and jagged, they ran up her neck before disappearing under the seam of her helmet. It seems that the good Cleric¡¯s healing is not ¡®perfect¡¯. Still it changed little about his immediate situation, save for the fact that he couldn¡¯t see his former lover¡¯s face to gauge her mood. ¡°Hello Sarah,¡± he said finally, ¡°it¡¯s good to see you up and about again.¡± He meant it too. Despite whatever wariness he might have felt for the woman that was in many ways a wildcard. What were her objectives now that Hard-Light was gone? After everything that had happened? He had no clue, and that made him want to be cautious. The silence stretched on for a few more moments, before Sarah turned on her heel and strode out. Not a good sign, he sighed as he heard the woman clambering up the stairs to the shop¡¯s small apartment. ¡°That went well,¡± Gravity groaned as she slumped against a work-desk. ¡°Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit,¡± he groused back, carless of the fact that he used it himself often enough. ¡°I wasn¡¯t being sarcastic,¡± she sighed. ¡°I genuinely think that went well.¡± ¡°You mean she didn¡¯t attack me?¡± The woman shook her head. ¡°No, I mean she actually stopped down here to see you. I half expected her to just head straight upstairs and lock herself in the apartment.¡± ¡°I take she¡¯s not happy then?¡± He guessed. Gravity gave him a tired grin. ¡°No. She¡¯s not ¡®happy¡¯. Given that her dad¡¯s dead, her organization and home is gone, her plans ruined, and she now sounds like she¡¯s gargling marbles, I would be worried if she was.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Erich nodded as he tightened up a bolt. ¡°I notice that a good deal of those descriptors could apply to you as well, but you never seemed particularly torn up.¡± That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Gravity¡¯s voice was positively frost when she spoke again. ¡°What do you want me to say Jason? That I hated my ¡®dad¡¯. That I hated his crew. That I hated that city. That I¡¯m glad it all went up in flames. That a lot of the people I grew up around and worked with are now dead. That I¡¯m freer now than I¡¯ve ever been in my life, even after being exiled to this crap-sack city? That I¡¯m finally free to be a ¡®good¡¯ person, but I¡¯m too chickenshit to make the first step?¡±The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Erich shrugged, utterly unbothered by her words, even if her use of his given name twigged a bit. ¡°Well, not in as many words, no.¡± He grunted, ¡°but now that Sarah¡¯s back on her feet, I need to have some idea of what you want.¡± After all, with Sarah cured, their common cause was at an end. He frowned as he noticed some torn strands of synth-muscle, ¡°so yes, a little confirmation about your future plans wouldn¡¯t have gone amiss.¡± That took the wind out of the woman¡¯s sails. ¡°I don¡¯t know Erich,¡± she muttered finally. ¡°For the first time in my life I¡¯m more or less free. Just like I¡¯ve always wanted. And I¡¯ve got no goddamn idea of what I¡¯m supposed to do.¡± Erich hummed in vague agreement. ¡°Come help me get this gauntlet off the suit,¡± he instructed. ¡°I think something¡¯s jammed in the servos.¡± Silence fell between the two for a moment, and Erich was just about to ask again when he heard Gravity stand up. ¡°You¡¯re one in a million, Erich.¡± She chuckled as she wandered over, ¡°I can¡¯t decide whether it¡¯s cute, infuriating or- is that a clump of hair?¡± Silence fell between them. ¡°I¡¯ll go get some tweezers.¡± He muttered, hurriedly walking away. Gravity called after him, ¡°Why is there brain matter on your suit¡¯s gauntlets, Erich!?¡± ¡°Yep, just got to find them gloves.¡± ¡°Erich!?¡±
¡°Yo Erich!¡± An unnaturally cheery voice shouted through his phone, causing Erich to wince as the quiet of the early morning was shattered. ¡°I heard you iced a few of those King pukes. Tell your newest minion to let me up so we can-¡± Flicking the phone off, he glared tiredly down at his bowl of off-brand cereal. Next to him, the phone began to ring again. ¡°She¡¯s not going to give up you know?¡± Gravity intoned from her position on the couch, not even deigning to take her eyes off whatever inanity passed for television at this time of day. ¡°Where¡¯s Sarah?¡± He asked, ignoring the muffled sound of shouting coming from downstairs as he rejected the call once more. ¡°Her room.¡± Gravity frowned. ¡°She doesn¡¯t seem¡­ comfortable eating out here.¡± Of course not, Erich thought. That would require she took off her mask. ¡°Also, you should stick with Bronte.¡± Gravity continued. Erich lifted an eyebrow, ¡°she spoke to you?¡± As far as he was aware, Bronte had clammed right up after getting back from the doctors - to both him and her half-sister. Gravity shook her head, ¡°messaged me.¡± Erich sighed, ¡°of course she did.¡± Well, at least it¡¯s progress, he thought as he reached over to the nearby intercom, just as the shouting from below reached a fever pitch. ¡°It¡¯s ok Grace,¡± he said. ¡°You can let her up. She¡¯s a friend.¡± He ignored the muttered ¡®funny way of showing it¡¯ that echoed just behind the sound of Grace¡¯s relieved confirmation. It was a matter of moments before Myra appeared in their upstairs flat, wide grin on the purple woman¡¯s face, and a six pack of beers in her massive hand. No gun, he noted with some relief. ¡°So cold, Erich.¡± The mercenary laughed, ¡°some might think you weren¡¯t happy to see me.¡± ¡°I am happy to see you.¡± He said, surprising himself with the fact that he meant it. ¡°I¡¯m less happy that you chose to show up in uniform.¡± The brute continued smiling as she dumped the drinks on the worksurface, but it didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes. ¡°You don¡¯t think I look good in white and yellow?¡± Erich shook his head, ¡°I think you look great in white and yellow. Really brings out the pallor of your skin.¡± He ignored the way the woman¡¯s smile turned a tad more genuine at that. Everyone loves compliments, he mused. Even statuesque purple women who can bounce bullets off their bare skin. Then he reconsidered that statement. Perhaps, because she¡¯s a statuesque purple woman who could bounce bullets off her bare skin? He imagined it took a certain sort of bravery to flirt with the intimidating mercenary. Which he wasn¡¯t doing. His mouth just had a tendency toward running away from him. For better or for worse. ¡°What I think would look a little less impressive, was if my store were decked out in white and yellow.¡± Myra laughed as she slumped into a nearby chair, ¡°I came round to celebrate, not redecorate the place.¡± ¡°No, you just want everyone else to think that you are.¡± Gravity chipped in with a hint of mirth from her seated position. ¡°Because after Erich¡¯s little stunt the other day, our store¡¯s suddenly on all the local gang¡¯s radar.¡± Erich cringed inwardly at that, but he stood by his reasoning. He hadn¡¯t been looking for a fight, but he wasn¡¯t about to roll over for a local band of nobodies either. He¡¯d done enough of that to last a dozen lifetimes, and he was slowly realizing that he didn¡¯t have to anymore. Which was why he continued Gravity¡¯s line of thought. ¡°And all those gangs watching our little store to try and puzzle out our allegiences, have just walked you walk upstairs decked out in full Saint¡¯s regalia.¡± ¡°Well, looks like you caught me.¡± Myra grinned without a hint of shame as she popped the cap on her drink. ¡°Looks like you¡¯ve got no recourse but to sign up with me and my crew.¡± Erich pressed his head against the cool surface of the worktop as the woman continued on. ¡°Think of it as a way of wiping the board clean. You and whatever the fuck was up with that ¡®hospital¡¯ got me kicked out of my hometown by the Squares, and I ¡®unintentionally¡¯ got you associated with my new crew.¡± ¡°Yes, unintentionally,¡± Erich muttered into the table. ¡°Just as it would be a total ¡®coincidence¡¯ that it would be a massive reputation boost for you if you brought three other metas into the Saints.¡± Not that he was a meta, but he figured it made little enough difference to anyone he might say it to. No matter how much that pisses me off. ¡°Yep total coincidence,¡± Myra smiled, as she took a swig of her drink. ¡°I might even get my own crew out of it. Forgot how much it sucks being treated as dumb muscle.¡± ¡°Give me one of those.¡± He grunted, waving an empty hand vaguely in the woman¡¯s direction. ¡°And I would like to note that I offered for you to work with us when we came out here.¡± At Gravity¡¯s insistence, he didn¡¯t mention. The gravity manipulator seemed to think it was somehow their fault that Myra got exiled along with the rest of her gang. Which it was, for getting them involved. The key difference between him and her was that he didn¡¯t care. He looked up when he realized that no contained of sweet alcohol would be forthcoming, and slumped even further when he saw a glowing green bottle floating in the air. ¡°Really Grav?¡± He most certainly did not whine. Really Erich,¡± The woman in question responded. ¡°It¡¯s the first thing in the goddamn morning.¡± ¡°Myra¡¯s drinking,¡± he pointed out. Gravity¡¯s voice was dryer than the Sahara, ¡°Myra is a metahuman brute. You are a bog-standard human who¡¯s a few bottles away from developing a gut.¡± He shrugged, so what? It was his gut. Myra looked surprised, before nodding sagely, ¡°Ah, I get ya. That would be a waste.¡± Erich had some vague idea of what they were talking about, but for the sake of his sanity chose not to think too hard on it. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m just going to go downstairs.¡± The ¡®don¡¯t follow me went¡¯ unsaid. Chapter Thirty Two ¡°I thought my request not to be bothered was unspoken?¡± Erich muttered as he looked up from his latest project, the shoulder harness hitting the desk with a clatter. ¡°That was an hour ago,¡± Myra shrugged. ¡°I figured you would be more amenable to conversation after a little alone time.¡± Erich sighed, and purple meta snorted. ¡°Yeah, should have known better when it came to your prickly ass.¡± ¡°Quite,¡± Erich nodded, as he reached over for a bundle of wires. ¡°Still, you¡¯re down here now, and I doubt anything short of sicking the drones on you is going to get you to leave. May as well say your bit.¡± Myra grinned, white and yellow Saint¡¯s uniform shifting in interesting ways as she sank into a chair. ¡°I was serious about that offer to join up with the Saints,¡± she said with unusual solemness. ¡°They ain¡¯t quite as hard as Hardlight¡¯s old crew used to be, but they ain¡¯t pushovers either.¡± Erich scoffed. ¡°And I was equally serious when I declined your offer Myra-¡± ¡°Prowler now actually.¡± Myra put in, ¡°didn¡¯t really bother with a moniker before, always thought it was kind of silly, but the new crew¡¯s pretty serious about it and I ain¡¯t in a position to complain.¡± ¡°Myra,¡± Erich reiterated, acting as if the interruption hadn¡¯t irritated him, ¡°I¡¯ve got no interest in joining up with anyone. Last time that happened I got pulled into a gang-war and ended up fighting nazi strippers, werewolves and a psychopathic mind reading ninja.¡± He sighed, running a hand through his hair, ¡°and all that happened in the US proper, where things at least pretend to be somewhat civilized.¡± As if to punctuate his point, the muffled sound of gunfire echoed outside. The timing would have been eerie if the sound weren¡¯t so common. As it was, it was just convenient. ¡°I don¡¯t even want to imagine what a gang-war looks like out here,¡± he muttered. Myra shrugged, ¡°Bout¡¯ the same to be honest. Bit less frantic. People can afford to take their time when they don¡¯t have to worry about the cops or the Heroes Guild showing up.¡± Erich nodded as he flicked a few buttons on his Omni-pad, watching with satisfaction as the contraption on his worktop whirred to life, the little camera on top unerringly tracking the movement of his hand as he waved it about. ¡°And if you were worried about getting in trouble,¡± Myra spoke up, drawing him grudgingly back to the conversation at hand, ¡°you¡¯ve got a funny way of going about it.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got no idea what you¡¯re talking about,¡± Erich grunted. Myra laughed, ¡°sure you don¡¯t. Just as I¡¯m sure it wasn¡¯t you who happened to crush poor Alloy¡¯s head the other day.¡± ¡°That was an accident.¡± He muttered, before amending his statement, ¡°picking the fight, I mean.¡± He definitely meant to crush ¡®Alloy¡¯s¡¯ head. It had seemed a convenient way of nipping the issue in the bud. He had been hoping the implicit threat would be enough to make the Three Quarter Kings back off. Which was clearly wishful thinking, he thought as he saw a distinctly vulpine grin spread across the purple woman¡¯s face. ¡°By killing three of their guys out of the blue.¡± The woman chuckled. Erich shrugged irritably, ¡°it was dark. Couldn¡¯t see the colours. I didn¡¯t think they were part of a larger crew.¡± Something he blamed on his currently still inoperable low-light systems. ¡°It was only after everything was said and done that I noticed they were all wearing something purple.¡± ¡­If only barely. Fucking handkerchiefs hanging out their pockets! Because of course they were too poor to use shirts or jackets or something. And so his little journey out to ¡®acquire¡¯ a helper suddenly turned into a big fucking problem. One he had admittedly hoped would blow over by itself. Gangbangers get shot all the time after all, he had reasoned at the time. Well, apparently it wasn¡¯t quite common enough for it not to warrant a response. Hence his need to crush someone¡¯s skill not even a day later. ¡°I had hoped by crushing the response, it would be enough to send a message.¡± A message that he wasn¡¯t easy prey, and the King¡¯s would be better off forgetting any thought about receiving their pound of flesh in return for his actions. ¡°Well it wasn¡¯t,¡± Myra shrugged. ¡°In other circumstances it might have been, but unfortunately for you the Kings are trying to expand at the moment.¡± ¡°And that affects me how?¡± The woman sighed as she sat up, ¡°look, gang politics is all about momentum and reputation. Everyone wants to be on the winning team, so when a gang starts doing well, they start expanding quickly. Kids hoping for a better life, mercenaries seeking loot, and opportunists who see exactly that. Everyone flocks to a winner¡¯s banner.¡± ¡°Not the most stable of recruiting tactics.¡± He mused as he thought of a gang swelling with recruits who originally defected from other gangs. ¡°No, it¡¯s not.¡± Myra shrugged, ¡°but it¡¯s how it works around here. Most smaller gangs would rather defect wholesale with their territory rather than get involved in a fight they might not win and lose everything in the process.¡± ¡°So rather than fight for every bit of territory, a powerful group can pretty much just wait for it to come to them,¡± he guessed. Myra nodded, ¡°right, but the opposite holds true as well. Start looking weak, and that little empire crumbles almost overnight as the absorbed groups decide they might do better.¡± Erich let his head thunk into the cool metal of his worktop. ¡°So they have to respond to you.¡± The woman continued, ¡°otherwise they risk looking weak.¡± ¡°Couldn¡¯t it just be¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­. beneath them to respond?¡± He moaned. Myra shook her head, ¡°when it comes to reputation in this town, nothing is beneath notice.¡± Erich sighed. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Shit.¡±
¡°So we¡¯re having a meeting with the leader of the Saints?¡± Gravity asked sceptically from her position leaning up against Erich¡¯s workbench. The disdain in her tone was echoed by her sister posture; who sat further back in the room, hooded jumper not quite up to the task of hiding her scars completely. ¡°Yes. A meeting.¡± Erich agreed irritably. ¡°A meeting in which we will discuss selling to the gang, and maybe the possibility of us considering joining up.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t think to discuss it with us first?¡± Gravity snapped, ¡°because this is a problem you got us into.¡± Well, he couldn¡¯t argue that. Not that he was ever going to admit it. ¡°Last I checked, this was us discussing it,¡± he sighed as he slumped into his own chair. ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯ve agreed to anything yet.¡± ¡°No, but the other gangs won¡¯t be aware of that.¡± Sarah croaked up from her position at the back, startling both of them. ¡°It¡¯s a meeting. Not a blood oath.¡± Erich muttered back, refusing to be thrown off by fact that those were the first words Sarah had said to¡­ anyone, since her injury. ¡°Gangs won¡¯t care.¡± Sarah continued, ¡°if these ¡®Kings¡¯ are gearing up to expand, and the Saints aren¡¯t about to roll over, then they¡¯re going to be arming up. Everyone¡¯s going to know it.¡± The blonde woman¡¯s frame was wracked by a fit of coughing, but she continued on with a scowl, ¡°Gravity¡¯s old pal has been here in full uniform. Erich picked a fight with the Kings and murdered one of their enforcers. As far as anyone cares we¡¯re all practically a part of the Saints already. Another meeting will do nothing but confirm it.¡± ¡°This is a weapons shop,¡± Erich argued. ¡°Is it really that strange that a gang member entered and left it?¡± That seemed to snap Gravity out of her shock, because she finally stopped staring at her sister. ¡°He¡¯s kind of got a point there.¡± Even underneath her hood, Erich could see Sarah¡¯s scowl grow, ¡°how many customers have you idiots had since you set up here? One? Three? None?¡± Erich glanced at Gravity, because he didn¡¯t have a clue. The less time he spent in the shop the better as far as he was concerned. ¡°¡­None.¡± Gravity admitted finally. ¡°Exactly,¡± Sarah wheezed. ¡°All the shops around here will owe fealty to one gang or another. As part of the organization, or as part of its territory.¡± A spark jumped from her gauntlet as she thumped her chest, as if to dislodge something in her throat, ¡°the gang members will shop within the organization.¡± ¡°We didn¡¯t do it that way back home.¡± Gravity whined. Sarah shot her sister a look, ¡°this isn¡¯t back home. We might have ¡®owned¡¯ territory, but that was for the purposes of ¡®protection¡¯. Here it¡¯s far more literal.¡± ¡°How do you know all this?¡± Erich put in curiously, because last he checked, Sarah had been in a coma until last week. And she sure as shit hasn¡¯t left the shop since she got healed. Or her room if she can help it. The blonde¡¯s severe gaze flicked back to him, ¡°unlike the airhead over there, I was expected to lead the business one day. Had dreams of expansion.¡± Another flurry of sparks leapt between her fingers. ¡°Fat lot of good they do me now.¡± She muttered bitterly. Erich had no idea what to say to that. So, he did what he always did: returned to the task at hand. ¡°So what? I just¡­ cancel the meeting.¡± Another crackle. ¡°No idiot.¡± Sarah coughed, ¡°like I just said, as far as anyone cares, we¡¯re practically a part of the Saints already. Olivia¡¯s old rug-munching friend took care of that for us when she showed up here after Erich¡¯s fuck up.¡± Erich let the insult wash over him. He couldn¡¯t care less so long as he got answers. He did notice Gravity twitch irritably though. The woman opened her mouth to say something, before thinking better of it and sinking down sulkily. ¡°So¡­ give up and repaint everything white and yellow?¡± Erich asked. Because that¡¯s not about to happen. Like hell he was going to kowtow to another two-bit criminal. He¡¯d done it before because he was ignorant. Wasn¡¯t aware of just how little meta-powers could mean¡­ He wasn¡¯t powerless. He was out of his element, poor and completely out of Meta-tech parts, but not powerless. Never powerless. Fortunately, it seemed that despite her setbacks, Sarah was still the same woman he once knew. Later that would scare him, but for now it was exactly what he needed. ¡°Yes and no.¡± The blonde continued, ¡°because despite all sense, this is actually an opportunity for us.¡± She smiled; a fairly disturbing thing given the scars. ¡°We¡¯re going to go to the meeting. We¡¯ll take their money, listen to their promises, and for all intents and purposes become part of the crew. We¡¯ll even help out in their little war.¡± She gestured to Gravity, ¡°in the meantime, you are going to somehow find us another Artificer on the side.¡± Then Erich, ¡°Using that Artificer, you¡¯re going to improve on those drones I¡¯ve seen wondering about the place, and you¡¯re going to fix that suit.¡± She sat back, ¡°And finally, when the Kings and Saints are at each others throats, we¡¯re going to make our own play for power and clear out both of them with whatever goons I can turn, and Erich¡¯s little drone army.¡± Erich liked it, especially the bit about getting a new source of parts, but Gravity¡¯s scowl made her opinion clear. ¡°Aside from being morally bankrupt, it seems a bit optimistic to assume Erich can make enough Spartoi to take on two factions. Even if they bloody each other up first.¡± Sarah waved a hand dismissively, ¡°perhaps¡­ which is why I¡¯m going to spend the next few days getting the lay of the land. See if some of Daddy¡¯s old assets are intact. The two of you focus on not fucking things up with our new boss and getting our hands on a new Artificer.¡± Chapter Thirty Three ¡°You can stop sulking.¡± Erich muttered as soon as Sarah was out of earshot. After a few more minutes of painfully stilted conversation, the scarred woman had retreated once more to her room. Unfortunately, Gravity had not, and the heavy silence was beginning to get to him. ¡°I¡¯m not sulking,¡± the woman muttered. ¡°Brooding? Angsting?¡± Erich suggested, ¡°whatever it is, it¡¯s getting distracting.¡± The silence continued on, and he resigned himself to the painfully heavy atmosphere once more. Normally a little awkwardness wouldn¡¯t bother him, he was socially obtuse enough for it to roll off his back, but in the current circumstances¡­ well, suffice to say that it was bringing up unpleasant memories. Christ, it¡¯s like being back home again. He was on the verge of standing up to go¡­ anywhere else, when Gravity finally spoke. ¡°Doesn¡¯t it bother you?¡± He froze, mid movement. ¡°Does what bother me?¡± He asked, genuinely confused. Sarah pretty much taking over? He wondered. If so, the answer was a little. He wasn¡¯t enamoured with the idea of being back under the volatile woman¡¯s thumb. Not at all. Still, he was smart enough to recognize that he needed her. For now. ¡°This whole thing!?¡± The woman spat, ¡°this was our chance to get out of all this crap.¡± The woman stood up, hands glowing the faintest hint of green, ¡°sure, it wasn¡¯t ideal, but we didn¡¯t have to be criminals! We could have just¡­ sold stuff.¡± Erich resisted the urge to scoff, ¡°you do realize where we are right? Criminal isn¡¯t a word that exists in this place¡¯s dictionary.¡± Gravity¡¯s eyes narrowed at him as her hands slowly lost their glow, ¡°you know exactly what I mean. The violence. The killing. The stealing. The constant power struggles. We didn¡¯t have to get involved in it.¡± The woman slumped back into her seat, ¡°now my bitch of a sister¡¯s back, and we¡¯re diving right back in.¡± Erich turned back toward the harness in front of him and resisted the urge to point out that he was the one to get them into this mess. Sarah, or Bronte, he guessed, just planned to profit off it. Which she probably would have done anyway, he reasoned. ¡°What did you think was going to happen?¡± He asked idly, ¡°that she would wake up and not start looking for ways to claw out her own little kingdom?¡± Gravity shook her head in disgust, ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ maybe? With the old man gone¡­¡± ¡°Seems to me that you have a very different perspective on things than Sarah.¡± Erich murmured, ¡°you did what you did because you were terrified of the man.¡± Gravity made some sound of protest, but Erich rode over her. ¡°Sarah idolized him.¡± The sister¡¯s circumstance reminded him of his own situation with his sister to be honest. The thought brought a frown to his face. ¡°You may have come from similar circumstances, but you¡¯ve both adapted to them in different ways.¡± Gravity and Sarah were never going to be alike. Even he could see that. They might have both been damaged by their father¡¯s presence in their lives, but they hadn¡¯t broken in the same way. One resented her role and the other embraced it. Seeing that parallel again, he thought irritably, dismissing it from his mind with a shake of the head. ¡°So, what am I supposed to do?¡± The woman asked, the slightest bit of vulnerability hidden under her feigned irritation. ¡°Just accept it?¡± Erich shrugged as he soldered the last few wires into place, ¡°seems to be what¡¯s going to happen.¡± He wasn¡¯t about to tell her otherwise. He still needed her as well. The sound of Gravity standing up and striding angrily from the room made him sigh. I didn¡¯t get chance to give her the new equipment, he thought as he looked down at the recently completed shoulder harness. He could do it later, he supposed, for now he had work to do. Reaching over to the intercom, he tapped the button for the shop front, ¡°Grace, send in ¡®Limpy¡¯. I have a few changes I want to make.¡± He wanted the drone brought up to snuff before he and Gravity went out to search for an Artificer. How difficult could it be to find one in a city like this, he mused.
Very, as it turned out. A week later, and they were grasping at straws. Of course, it might help if one of the searchers wasn¡¯t dragging her feet, Erich thought as he glanced over at Gravity. The woman in question refused to look back, steadfastly staring down the road as Limpy scanned the road in front of them. Her mood had not much improved in the days since their previous conversation. Sighing, Erich glanced over at Limpy instead. Not that the drone in question had a limp anymore. In fact, he had little in common with the initial Spartoi model. Instead, he was beefier, more armoured and rocking both a pulse blaster and shields. A pulse blaster and shield stripped from ¡®my¡¯ suit, Erich thought irritably, feeling more than a little exposed out in public without it. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Unfortunately, he had been forced to admit defeat on the suit front. Until they got a new Artificer he had no way of repairing some of the things key components. And between a fully operational and improved sentry drone, and a barely functional suit, he had been forced to admit that the drone won out. Hence Limpy¡¯s current, and entirely temporary, upgrades. At least I¡¯m not entirely defenceless, he thought, feeling the comforting weight of the pulse pistol in his pocket, and the warm hum of the shield generator on his chest. Still, that didn¡¯t mean he was happy about being forced to walk through Portland¡¯s busy streets. ¡°Remind me again why I¡¯m being forced to walk like some kind of peasant?¡± Erich asked irritably. Gravity turned away, and for just a moment he could see she was thinking about ignoring him. ¡°Because the slavers district doesn¡¯t allow any vehicle larger than scooter within two kilometres of the place.¡± The woman finally snapped, ¡°turns out they¡¯ve had a bit of an issue with security in the past few years.¡± In a very unladylike manner, she spat to the side, ¡°turns out that even over here, some people have issues with slavers.¡± She chuckled bitterly, ¡°who knew?¡± Wasn¡¯t really much Erich could say to that, so he wisely shut up. Gravity had made her opinion on Sarah¡¯s plan to obtain a meta-human through less than scrupulous means clear when there own attempts pulled up nothing. She had also apparently been expecting Erich to weigh in on her side, awkwardness between them bedamned. Unfortunately for her, he wasn¡¯t quite as bothered by the prospect of owning another human being as she was. What can I say? I¡¯m desperate. He needed an Artificer to continue his work. And with the way strays Metas were snatched up by the gangs in the city he couldn¡¯t see them finding one otherwise. Would be nice if we just stumbled across one, Erich thought, but this isn¡¯t a fairy tale. Fortuitous fated encounters like that just didn¡¯t happen to him. Everything he earned was through his own two hands. No matter how dirty they might be. Fortunately, he was distracted from any more thoughts about his slowly declining morality by the sight of the bazaar. ¡°Lovely,¡± Gravity cursed, spitting to the side once more. Erich ignored her as he took in the view. A shopping mall? An¡­ outdoor, neon-lighty, armed, shopping mall? After a few moments observation, it was clear that, it wasn¡¯t much like a shopping mall at all, but somehow that image stuck with him. The principal was the same after all. Big colorful lights, posters, busy shoppers, and expansive windows showing the product within. In this case, though the product happened to be people. Somehow the familiarity made it worse. Sort of like an uncanny valley. ¡°Thought better of it yet?¡± Gravity muttered to his side. ¡°No.¡± He ground out, stepping forward into the mass of people and lights. Behind him Gravity sighed and followed. ¡°This is wrong Erich.¡± She continued, undeterred. ¡°I am well aware.¡± Erich muttered as he let Limpy clear a path. ¡°Then don¡¯t do this. Or better yet, do something about it.¡± Erich looked at her incredulously, ¡°like what? Start a scene and up like that woman?¡± He gestured to a lamppost from which a colorfully costumed woman hung, the words ¡®Vigilante¡¯ on a sign around her neck. It had been a bit jarring the first time he saw one of those exhibitions, but by the third time the grotesque tableaus had just kind of faded into the background. Nowadays he just tried to pretend they didn¡¯t exist. Sort of like seeing a homeless person back home¡­ To her credit, Gravity didn¡¯t avert her eyes, staring at the would-be hero as she spoke, ¡°no. Just¡­ don¡¯t partake of all of this¡­¡± Erich scoffed, ¡°and I¡¯m sure my act of passive resistance would mean a great deal to the slave trade of Portland.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not about that. It¡¯s about being better than this.¡± Erich shook his head, gesturing to a storefront where a number of chained and nude, but remarkably clean, men and women were being leered at by a crowd and a large man shouted out there many benefits. As he passed, he overheard the words ¡®spider control¡¯. Not a hell of a selling point there. ¡°Do you know the difference between us and them?¡± He said, dismissing the stray thought. ¡°These!¡± He hissed, gesturing to the weapons at there sides and the shield unit on his chest. ¡°And that.¡± He gestured at Limpy, who was, as they spoke, eying the surrounding crowds. Surrounding crowds that were subtly eying the bot in turn, along with everyone else. ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± He spat. ¡°That¡¯s all that¡¯s keeping us from being the ones in those stores. And these things require components and money.¡± Gravity scowled but didn¡¯t look away. ¡°Is that your justification for this?¡± She grunted, ¡°survival?¡± Erich shook his head, pushing forward into the crowd. That was all the justification he needed. He would survive. Not without hesitation, but without a doubt. Chapter Thirty Four ¡°No, look,¡± Erich ground out with rapidly fraying patience, ¡°I don¡¯t want a sex slave. I don¡¯t want an exotic dancer. I don¡¯t want a menial labourer. I don¡¯t even want a bulletproof bodyguard. I want an Artificer.¡± The man across from them had maintained his plastic salesman smile for the entire time he¡¯d been in his store, but it seemed even the slave dealer¡¯s slick charm was reaching its limits. ¡°Are you sure-¡± ¡°I am.¡± Sighing the man slumped down onto the counter, dismissing the array of ¡®merchandise¡¯ he had brought into his expansive store with a casual wave of his hand. Erich was relieved to see them go. Hypocritical as it was, considering his reasons for being there, he felt more than just a little uncomfortable seeing humans arrayed before him like merchandise. Even after seeing it happen a half dozen times by now. Gravity had stormed out the first time and he hadn¡¯t seen her since. ¡°Look man,¡± the dealer grunted, ¡°I don¡¯t have any Artificers. None of the dealers round here will have them. And even if they did, they wouldn¡¯t sell them to you. There¡¯s a pecking order to this kind of thing. Big fancy auctions. Invite only. The big players in town get the first dibs on that kind of thing, and I can assure you, if I don¡¯t know you, you ain¡¯t a big player.¡± Erich felt like tearing his hair out in frustration. An entire morning wasted. Plus, he¡¯d also put a dent in his relationship with Gravity for nothing. ¡°Are you absolutely sure?¡± He persisted, ¡°I don¡¯t even need a talented one. So long at they can make a few powerpacks I¡¯m happy.¡± The dealer shook his head, earlier friendliness all used up. ¡°Like I said, everyone knows Artificers are force multipliers. Even shit ones. That means that when people like me get their hands on a ¡®stray¡¯, everyone from gutter trash to the Queen herself is interested.¡± Erich¡¯s mind panned back to the late Crusher. The guy did manage to hook up with the Brotherhood pretty quick¡­ It was actually a little worrying, if Artificer¡¯s were truly as valuable as this guy seemed to think. Especially considering a lot of people assume I¡¯m an Artificer. His earlier warning to Gravity echoed in his ears, and he gave the dealer a weary look before he strode out onto the busy street once more. ¡°Limpy: follow.¡± He shouted over the roar of the crowd. He made sure the bot did exactly that before setting off, keeping a weary eye on the crowd around him. As he did, he caught the eye of a young woman standing on ¡®display¡¯ in the window of a nearby store. The blank glassy eyed stare she gave him in turn sent shivers through him, and he rapidly turned away, something shifting uncomfortably in his gut. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here,¡± he muttered. He needed a shower.
¡°So, you didn¡¯t find one?¡± Sarah asked from her position cross-legged on the couch. ¡°No,¡± Erich shrugged irritably, ¡°and it doesn¡¯t look like we¡¯ll be getting our hands on one anytime soon.¡± ¡°At least, not as property.¡± Gravity chimed in from the back, not even attempting to hide her relief. ¡°Unfortunate.¡± The blonde muttered as she speared a shrimp from her Chinese takeaway with a fork. ¡°I can¡¯t help but notice you don¡¯t sound surprised.¡± Gravity noted, the faint hint of accusation in her voice. The blond shrugged, ¡°I¡¯m not. It was a long shot at best.¡± Erich resisted the urge to snap at her for wasting his time. ¡°So what now?¡± He finally gritted out. Sarah just shrugged again, careless of the tension in the room. ¡°Keep looking. Get creative. My hands are full with coming up with a plan to bring down two competing gangs.¡± She levelled a glance at the pair of them, ¡°all I¡¯m asking you two to do for now is find me a particular type of Meta.¡± A particularly rare type of Meta, Erich resisted the urge to point out. ¡°You mentioned some of Hardlight¡¯s old assets earlier?¡± He managed to keep his tone level. ¡°Any caches of his old tech?¡± If there were, he could upgrade them or strip them for parts as needed. It wouldn¡¯t be perfect, but he could at least fix the suit or get a few drones up and running. He levelled a grim stare at Limpy, who stood sentinel in the corner of the apartment, upgrades on full display.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. What a waste, he sighed. ¡°None that I¡¯ve found thus far.¡± Sarah said, ¡°Daddy wasn¡¯t exactly organized, and a lot of his contacts out here have gone to ground after his¡­¡± She paused. ¡°after what happened. It¡¯s taking some persuasion to unearth them.¡± ¡°I take that ¡®persuasion¡¯ is the reason you have blood on your new mask.¡± Gravity grunted, gesturing to where the yellow half-mask sat. ¡°Oh, and your charity case finally proved useful.¡± Sarah continued, ignoring her sisters as she gestured to the shop. The same place where Grace bunked down at night with a sleeping bag. It was also where she spent much of her day. Working or otherwise. ¡°That muscle-bound purple cunt showed up again while we were out. Her boss has invited us to meet with them tomorrow at a ¡®neutral point¡¯ to discuss our ongoing ¡®employment status¡¯.¡± Somehow Erich doubted those were the words Myra used, but he figured Sarah¡¯s summary was closer to the truth. ¡°Erich and I will go.¡± The blonde continued, ¡°Gravity, you stay here with the bot and the help in case the Kings try to make their counterattack while we¡¯re out.¡± Gravity glowered but grudgingly nodded. The fact that it would give her some time to spend with the ex-street rat was likely the only reason she agreed to be left out of the admittedly quite important meeting. Now that they knew the store didn¡¯t really serve a purpose, at least until they were aligned with one of the gangs, they didn¡¯t bother to keep it open. Which meant they didn¡¯t really have a reason to keep Grace around. An opinion Sarah has made abundantly clear, Erich thought tiredly. Gravity had naturally picked the opposite side of that argument. Even if she hadn¡¯t originally been a fan of the girl, she wasn¡¯t about to kick her back onto the street either. How much of that was out a sense of charitability, or a desire to oppose Sarah, Erich couldn¡¯t say. In the end, the deciding vote had come down to him, and to his veiled surprise, he had decided to keep the young woman around. It wasn¡¯t so much charitability as pragmatism. He had gone through all the trouble of saving the young woman, and after all the trouble that came from the act, it chafed at his sensibilities to gain nothing from it whatsoever. At least this way I won¡¯t have to save another street urchin when the store opens ¡®properly¡¯.
The meeting place was nowhere special. A diner barely a block away from the store, and just on the edge of Saint¡¯s territory. ¡°Not exactly being subtle, are they?¡± Erich said as he glanced at the white and yellow colour scheme proudly adorning the building¡¯s front. Sarah shrugged. ¡°Even back home businesses under our ¡®protection¡¯ were expected to wave the colours. But as you said, we were more subtle about it.¡± She glanced down the street, looking for anything untoward as she continued. ¡°It¡¯s a nice place, or at least, a nice enough place. No damage. No graffiti. When you consider how rare that is in a city like this, they¡¯re probably trying to send a message.¡± ¡°Something like, ¡®look how nicely we treat our underlings?¡¯¡± Erich guessed. A silent nod was all the answer he received before Sarah pushed the doors open. ¡°Erich!¡± A jovial and familiar voice called from within, and Erich looked over to see Myra happily waving at them. ¡°I see you brought Sarah with you.¡± She continued. ¡°Pity.¡± Erich barely registered the second half of her comment though, his focus was on the stunningly attractive woman lounging in the stall next to the purple meta. ¡­Or is that a man? Erich wondered as his eyes raked over the aggressively androgynous individual. No, that¡¯s definitely a¡­ woman? man? Even after a good few seconds of staring, he couldn¡¯t come to a conclusion. Which was a bit worrying, because he could honestly say he¡¯d never been more attracted to someone than he was to this total stranger. Please be a handsome woman and not a beautiful man, Erich prayed within his mind. Please don¡¯t tell me I¡¯ve awakened a newly discovered appreciation for homoeroticism. Because he was very straight, and he didn¡¯t need the kind of trouble that came with a sudden switch in sexual orientation. ¡°If the pair of you are standing there wondering if you¡¯ve got a sudden desire to bat for the other other team on account of Zigzag over here, don¡¯t worry about it.¡± Myra laughed, prompting Erich to realize that both he and Sarah were just standing there. Staring. ¡°Most people feel the same when the boss looks like this,¡± the purple woman chuckled. Sarah was the first to recover, sliding into a seat opposite the pair with deliberate calm. Erich slumped down after her with a little less grace. ¡°Shapeshifter?¡± The blonde asked without preamble. ¡®Zigzag¡¯ gave the woman an unfairly bewitching smile as his¡­ her? Their eyes changed from green to red and back again. ¡°As you said.¡± They said, voice just as sultry and gender ambiguous as the rest of them. ¡°So¡­ when Myra said ¡®like this¡¯ does that mean you aren¡¯t always¡­ like this?¡± Erich blurted out, unable to himself. That sultry smile turned on him, utterly unoffended, ¡°Gender is such a limited idea. For someone like me, switching back and forth is as easy as putting on a new set of clothes. Sometimes I¡¯m one. Sometimes I¡¯m the other.¡± They smiled, ¡°and sometimes I¡¯m neither.¡± They stretched, arching their neck to best show off their delicate frame. ¡°Do you like it? it took me a long time to get to a point where it was appealing to both genders.¡± Erich shrugged uncomfortably and said something that might have been a vague approximation of ¡®good workmanship¡¯, causing Zigzag to giggle. At least he hadn¡¯t been struck dumb by the sight of a man. Instead, it had been a genderfluid shapeshifter with no consistent sense of gender identity. Totally an improvement, he thought sarcastically, putting the entire thought from his mind, after resolving that in the near future¡­ he really needed to get laid. If only to reaffirm my longstanding love of women and women alone, he thought, determinedly turning away from the supernaturally attractive face in front of him. Well, at least he wasn¡¯t the only one shaken, because despite Sarah¡¯s attempts to pass it off, she had been just as dumbfounded as he was when she walked in. Something Myra was still quietly chuckling about, despite the occasional heated glare sent her way by both of them. If anything, their irritation only seemed to be making it better for her, forcing Erich to ignore her as well. ¡°Right, well your interesting power aside, I understand you brought us here to discuss our employment status.¡± Sarah said, finally getting the meeting back on track. ¡°Now that you¡¯re both done staring, you mean?¡± Myra chimed in. ¡°Back to the meeting at hand.¡± Sarah gritted out. ¡°Quite,¡± Zigzag nodded, her voice taking on a hint of chastisement. ¡°Quiet Prowler. You¡¯ve had your fun.¡± The purple meta snorted, but obligingly went quiet. Zigzag smiled anew as the Meta took them both in, ¡°now as to the task at hand. I must admit, that while I have an interest in both you and¡­ Gravity was it?¡± Sarah nodded, allowing Zigzag to continue. ¡°Yes, while I have an interest in both of you and your talents, my interest is primarily in Mechromancer over there. An Artificer of his talents-¡± ¡°I¡¯m not an Artificer.¡± Erich interrupted, ignoring the glare sent his way almost instantly by Sarah, and the incredulous look from the two other Metas. He didn¡¯t care. He wasn¡¯t a Meta. ¡°My skills are my own. I don¡¯t have any powers.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Zigzag said, a peculiar emotion entering their eyes. ¡°Now that is interesting.¡± Chapter Thirty Five
¡°Bullshit.¡± Myra crowed. Erich barely spared her a glance, his focus entirely on the Meta in front of him. ¡°As uncouth as my compatriot¡¯s phrasing might be,¡± Zigzag nodded, ¡°I find myself in agreement. I¡¯ve seen video of that suit of yours, as well as the drone. Impressive work.¡± Erich shook his head, ignoring Sarah¡¯s glare. ¡°Just good old-fashioned engineering work. Mundane technology wrapped around a few second-hand bits of Artificer tech.¡± Specifically, the power source and weapons systems. Not that he couldn¡¯t replicate those systems as well, but even he couldn¡¯t get them small enough to fit in a suit. Maybe on the back of a truck, he thought glumly. Myra looked like she still wanted to argue, but Zigzag raiser a hand, forestalling the purple Meta¡¯s next comment. ¡°I still find it hard to believe¡­ although, that would explain why you have yet to return those creations to full functionality, even after weeks in this city,¡± the shapeshifter murmured. Erich resisted the urge to wince as he felt Sarah¡¯s heel grinding into his foot. He promptly elbowed her in the side, drawing a startled whumph of air from her, and a surprised look of indignation. Apparently ignorant of the byplay across the table, it took Zigzag a few more moments to speak again. ¡°If you speak the truth, and I do mean if, then this complicates things,¡± they said. ¡°My organization does not currently possess an Artificer. Hence why we were so eager to have the Mechromancer as a member.¡± ¡°Given the burgeoning conflict with the Kings, I was prepared to be quite generous in my offered terms if it mean getting you on our side.¡± They shrugged, ¡°but if his prodigious talents require an Artificer to facilitate, then we have an issue.¡± ¡°Not so much of an issue.¡± Sarah interjected quickly, ¡°there is a market for second-hand Meta tech.¡± Zigzag shook her head. ¡°An expensive market. The saints aren¡¯t exactly broke, but as an organization we aren¡¯t flush with cash either.¡± ¡°But it could act as a stopgap measure.¡± Sarah continued, ¡°at least until we manage to acquire an Artificer of our own.¡± ¡°¡¯Acquire an Artificer¡¯ she says,¡± Zigzag scoffed. ¡°You make it sound so simple. My group has been around for five years, and we still don¡¯t have one. Hence my previous eagerness to acquire your friend.¡± Erich tried to tamper it down, but he felt himself bristle, ¡°I¡¯m better than an Artificer.¡± ¡°Perhaps,¡± Zigzag shrugged. ¡°But your value is relative to the resources available.¡± Erich couldn¡¯t exactly argue with that. His ability to understand and streamline tech was only valuable to an organization that already had a lot of it. To a gang like the Saints, efficiency and reliability was less valuable than quantity. ¡°Still, less valuable or not, the Saints would still be happy to have all three of you,¡± Zigzag said.
¡°I can¡¯t believe you!¡± Sarah¡¯s hoarse voice ground out as they drove back. Erich shrugged, too tired to argue. And I wasn¡¯t the one who spent the last two hours arguing the minutia of our arrangement with the Saints, he thought. It amazed him that Sarah still had the energy to be pissed at him. But I suppose that¡¯s a supervillain¡¯s daughter for you¡­ ¡°What would you have me do? Lie?¡± He grunted. ¡°Yes!¡± Sarah shouted as she spun the wheel to narrowly avoid a collision with another car. ¡°It¡¯s not like it would have been anything new for you. Hell, you didn¡¯t even have to say anything. You could have just let me do the talking.¡± He sighed, ¡°and what would have happened when the Saints finally got around to ordering something I couldn¡¯t produce? Like a hundred-odd laser rifles?¡± Sarah shook her head, ¡°we would have done what suppliers have done for all of human history. We would have lied, wheedled and apologized for the delay.¡± ¡°Indefinitely?¡± Erich asked sceptically. ¡°Until we found an Artificer, or more likely, the Saints became too busy with the Kings to do anything about it and I had my own hooks in the organization.¡± Sarah shot back.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ¡°There¡¯s no way they would have bought it,¡± he scoffed. ¡°I was the daughter of an Artificer, Erich.¡± Sarah pointed out. ¡°I know better than anyone how erratic they are. A few months of delays and faulty products would hardly be impossible or even particularly unusual.¡± Right, well¡­ he hadn¡¯t thought of that. Because I use real science rather than space magic, he thought, his opinion of Artificer¡¯s dropping even lower. A few months with nothing to show for it? He sighed, slumping in his seat. He¡¯d fucked up. He knew it. She knew it. Of course, I¡¯m never going to admit it. ¡°Right, so what did my moment of candid honesty cost us?¡± ¡°Me and Gravity.¡± Sarah said, ¡°now that you¡¯re no longer an ¡®invaluable¡¯ asset, warranting around the clock protection, the dickless wonder wants us on the front lines of the fight.¡± Erich ran a hand through his hair as he considered that. ¡°Shit.¡± ¡°Shit, indeed.¡± Sarah nodded. ¡°So, what am I supposed to be doing?¡± The blonde shrugged, ¡°regular tech, the occasional meta-tech, and continuing the search for an Artificer.¡± ¡°How the fuck am I supposed to find one when you and the locals can¡¯t?¡± He asked frustratedly. Sarah was completely without sympathy, ¡°no idea, and I can¡¯t spare any time to think about it. Thanks to you I¡¯ve now got to subvert an organization and destroy another while dodging bullets on the front lines of a gang war.¡±
¡°Alright Techno. Time¡¯s up. You need to get out of that chair before you turn into a vegetable.¡± The youngest member of the Olympians fought to keep from smiling as he steadfastly kept his eyes on the screen in front of him. A needless act, given that his powers allowed him to manipulate it with his mind, but he found a visual connection helped him focus and lose himself in the sensation coming from his power. ¡°Don¡¯t ignore me, kid.¡± In his mind¡¯s eye, he wasn¡¯t sat in the massive control room of the Olympus base, instead he was in the depths of cyber space. Where sight and sound didn¡¯t exist in a manner analogous to any human sense of the words. ¡°Alright buster, you asked for it.¡± No, he was in a world of pure data. Swimming through it like a shark through the ocean, searching for his- ¡°Eeek!¡± The young man shrieked, shooting up in his chair as something cold slid down his neck and toward the base of his spine. ¡°Blur!¡± He shouted indignantly as he desperately tried to grasp the ice cube tangled in the back of his shirt; alternating between flailing impotently and glaring at the laughing blonde. Finally fishing out the block of frozen water, he turned to yell some more, only to find himself staring into a pair of amused blue eyes. ¡°There,¡± she said, cutting him off before he could talk. ¡°Doesn¡¯t it feel good to be out of that chair?¡± No, he thought, taking note of the litany of aches and pains that were flaring up now that he was deigning to pay attention to his weary body. When was the last time I ate? He wondered, as his stomach rumbled. ¡°Here.¡± Blur said as she tossed him something. Steve looked down, only to sigh in dismay as took in the wrapping. ¡°One of Cornucopia¡¯s ration bars?¡± He asked, ¡°really?¡± Blur winced in sympathy, before shrugging. ¡°It has everything the body needs. And it¡¯s a new batch, which he swears even has flavour this time.¡± Somehow, Techno doubted that. For a man whose entire powerset revolved around food, Cornucopia had terrible taste in food. How often had the entire team been forced to act as testers for the man¡¯s concoctions prior to their public release? Only to be subjected to the most vile- His thoughts fell away as an idea occurred to him. ¡°He asked you to try this out for him, didn¡¯t he?¡± Techno deadpanned as he looked up at the senior superhero. The woman¡¯s sputtered denials were all the answer the technopath needed. Sighing, he looked down at the bar in question, before tearing off the wrapper and biting down on the bland brown block within. Not the worst, he thought after a few tentative chews. It tasted only a little like tire, which he considered an improvement over the last batch of ¡®instant rejuvenation¡¯ rations that Cornucopia had produced. Took me days to get the taste of rubber out of my mouth last time¡­ ¡°Well, you haven¡¯t run off to throw up, so I guess I can tell him that they were a success.¡± Blur asked as she carefully waited for some kind of reaction. ¡°It¡¯s not awful,¡± he admitted, luxuriating in the sensation of days without sleep or food dissipating within moments of the brown goop sliding down his throat. ¡°But I get the feeling he wanted a more in-depth check of its regenerative power than the weariness built up from a few all-nighters.¡± The only response he got was some barely audible muttering about ¡®not being a crash test dummy¡¯. It was always strange for him to see Blur acting this way. The ¡®cutesy public persona¡¯, he had dubbed it in his mind. Except it wasn¡¯t just a public persona. She slipped into it often enough when outside the limelight as well. And just as often she adopted what he had dubbed her ¡®serious persona¡¯. One that swore like a sailor and seemed endlessly driven to dish out justice. And for the life of him, he had no idea which one the real Lucy was. ¡°So I take it you didn¡¯t come down here just to interrupt my work with Cornucopia¡¯s latest insult to good taste,¡± he asked. ¡°I did actually,¡± Blur said as she straightened up. ¡°Interrupt you that is. The ¡®insult to good taste¡¯ was just an added benefit.¡± ¡°Any particular reason why?¡± The blonde smiled sadly, reaching forward to run her thumb of his cheek. ¡°You¡¯re burning out, Techno. When was the last time you even slept?¡± Steve couldn¡¯t believe it. ¡°You know exactly why I¡¯m doing this.¡± He grunted, ignoring her last question, because honestly, he couldn¡¯t remember. ¡°I need to track down these guys if we¡¯re going to have any shot at taking down-¡± ¡°And that¡¯s exactly why you need to sleep.¡± She said with her hand over his mouth. ¡°You¡¯re getting sloppy. Sloppy enough that you nearly blurted out a very sensitive name somewhere you shouldn¡¯t.¡± Steve nodded sheepishly. Well, this confirms that she doesn¡¯t trust the other Olympians. Not that he thought she believed all of the Olympians to be in cahoots with the Shadow Guild. But we don¡¯t know who isn¡¯t either, he thought glumly. And until they did, it seemed that it was just the two of them trying to uproot the secret organization growing within the Heroes Guild. ¡°Right,¡± he nodded as soon as she took her hand away. ¡°I should probably get some sleep.¡± ¡°A shower too,¡± Blur smiled wryly, ¡°you¡¯re smelling a little¡­ ripe.¡± Steve flushed, blurting out his goodbyes as he hurried past her, and he was still blushing when he made it back to his quarters, and started stripping off. He was so caught up in his self-recriminations, that he nearly missed it when a small note fluttered out of his costume¡¯s front pocket. ¡®Possible lead. Meet me at Dawson Park tonight at Twelve.¡¯ Chapter Thirty Six ¡°This is for you.¡± Gravity looked surprised, glancing up from her Omni-pad with wide eyes as Erich¡¯s latest project slid across the counter. ¡°What is it?¡± She asked, hastily sliding away her pad. Erich shrugged as he slumped over the couch, ¡°your answer to Bronte¡¯s gauntlets.¡± ¡°What?¡± Erich sighed as he laid back. ¡°Way back before the whole¡­ everything happened, you asked me to build you something to put you on the same level as Bronte. He waved vaguely in the direction of the device. ¡°I¡¯ll admit that it took me a while, but I finally got around to building it.¡± He wasn¡¯t looking at her, but he could almost hear an audible twitch as Gravity¡¯s interest skyrocketed. In his mind¡¯s eye, he could almost imagine two dog-like ears shooting to attention. Need to get some sleep, he thought blearily, dismissing the mental image. ¡°How does it work?¡± ¡°Slip it on your shoulder, plug the jack into the port on the back of your helmet, and look in the general direction of whatever you want to die.¡± Erich murmured, eyelids gradually losing their battle with gravity. ¡°It¡¯s not doing anything.¡± Of course not, there¡¯s a delay, he thought blearily¡­ ¡°Wait, wha-¡± He managed to shout, just before an explosion rang out through the apartment, sending him ducking for cover. Silence reigned through the apartment, in the aftermath, broken only by the sound of drywall crumbling. ¡°What the fuck!?¡± Erich shouted, as he looked between a helmeted and fully armed Gravity, and the rather large hole in the kitchen wall. Despite her fully helmeted head, he could read the sheepishness in the woman posture, ¡°I¡­ I was aiming for the cup.¡± She murmured, gesturing to where a cup assumedly once sat. Erich said assumedly, because the thing was likely little more than it¡¯s component atoms now. Along with a good chunk of the wall, he thought irritably, trying to calm his racing heart. ¡°Sisters.¡± He said, voice dripping with disdain as he remembered Sarah doing the exact same thing to his workshop. ¡°Hey!¡± Gravity protested as she pulled her helmet off. ¡°I¡¯m not like her¡­ I just didn¡¯t expect it to be so strong.¡± She glanced back and forth between the shoulder mounted turret and the hole in the wall. ¡°Why¡¯s it got a delay anyway? And why¡¯s it so strong?¡± Erich slumped back into his chair, all sleepiness banished by the adrenaline that had recently shot through his system. Instead he was forced to deal with tremors in his limbs as the chemical ran its course. ¡°It has a delay to give you time to use your powers after designating a target with the retinal targeting.¡± He grunted, shakily returning his gun to its holster. ¡°Oh.¡± Gravity said, realization running through her. For just a second, Erich feared the room was about to experience another ¡®test run¡¯ but to his relief, reason seemed to win out at the last second as his friend placed her helmet back on the counter. Breathing a sigh of relief, he continued. ¡°And the reason it¡¯s so strong is because I mounted the pulse blaster on it.¡± His last pulse blaster. Or at least, the last one that wasn¡¯t already in the hands of the drone downstairs, he thought, complicated emotions running through him as he considered the downgrade that was the laser pistol in his holster. Something that, to his irritation, Gravity didn¡¯t miss. ¡°Why are you giving it to me?¡± She asked slowly, ¡°I thought¡­¡± That he was hoarding the best gun for himself until he managed to the suit back up and running? That he could have gotten by with just mounting a laser or a regular gun? That he might even have gotten away with nothing, given that Gravity had clearly forgotten commissioning a new bit of tech from him?This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. All good questions, and ones he knew she wasn¡¯t about to let him worm his way out of. So instead he just built the bullet and answered. Quickly. ¡°I figured I owed you one.¡± He muttered, resisting the urge to flare crimson, and dearly wishing the meta would drop the subject. Of course, his prayers weren¡¯t answered as she stepped towards him. When are they ever? ¡°Owed me one? For what?¡± She asked, genuinely perplexed. Erich muttered his answer, determinedly keeping his eye on a spot just up and to the left of Gravity¡¯s eyes. ¡°What?¡± Sighing, Erich cursed himself for a sentimental moron before grunting louder, ¡°for taking you to the slave market with me.¡± He snapped, ¡°I knew it made you uncomfortable, and I took you anyway. I shouldn¡¯t have put you through that.¡± He wouldn¡¯t apologize for seeking out a slave in the first place, but he could admit that taking her with him for protection had just been rubbing salt in the wound. Blazing crimson, he hoped that would be the end of it. Of course, he should have known better, and he felt horror building in his gut as Gravity¡¯s confusion slowly morphed into a very familiar vulpine grin. ¡°Aww, Erich does care.¡± She teased, her tone of voice almost a mirror match for the one his sister used to use. ¡­Saccharine sweet, and just as mocking. A tone of voice that had been utterly mortifying him as a child, and it seemed the passage of time and change of circumstances had done little to change that. ¡°No.¡± He snapped, ears burning, ¡°I was just repaying a debt. Keeping our working relationship hospitable. It was business transaction!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be like that, Erich.¡± Gravity chuckled, ¡°It¡¯s ok to admit you care about your good pal Gravity.¡± ¡°¡­You are infuriating.¡± He spat, crossing his arms and looking away. ¡°Alright, alright.¡± The Meta relented putting her hands up and sinking down into the seat opposite him. ¡°I am genuinely happy though. This thing,¡± she said gesturing to the device, ¡°might just save my life in a firefight. So, thank you, Erich.¡± Erich determinedly didn¡¯t look at her as he muttered something that might have been a close approximation of ¡®you¡¯re welcome¡¯. Determined to change the subject, he gestured to the hole in the wall. ¡°So, I can¡¯t help but notice that Sarah hasn¡¯t run in to tear you a new one for ripping a hole in our wall.¡± Kind of hypocritical given that the blonde had done the exact same thing when he gave her the gauntlets, but then again, Sarah had never pretended to be some unimpeachable bastion of moral authority. ¡°Grace neither,¡± Gravity pointed out as she fiddled with her latest toy. ¡°Sarah¡¯s off ¡®liaising¡¯ with our new employers,¡± the venom she put in the last word told Erich everything he needed to know about her opinion on the Saints, ¡°and Grace is bright enough not to run to investigate the sound of a weapon going off.¡± That made sense to Erich. Almost like a cultural quirk unique to Portland, he mused. As if on cue, the girl in question peeked her head out from the stairwell, and after a quick glance around to see that nothing totally out of the ordinary was going on, retreated back to the shop. ¡°Girl¡¯s like a fieldmouse,¡± Gravity said, her smirk only tinged by the slightest hint of sadness. Erich shrugged, happy not to have to deal with an additional bother. ¡°Anyway,¡± Gravity smiled, earlier cheer returning, ¡°as thanks for finally getting this done, how about I join you in watching one of the only Portland exports I actually consider worth exporting.¡± Lifting up her Omni-pad, Erich quirked an eyebrow as the easily identifiable logo of the Portland branch of the Death Dome came onscreen. Yet another similarity between sisters, Erich thought, as Gravity started casting it toward the TV. Not that it was a great surprise. Death Dome was popular enough with the average joe for it not to be unusual ¨C even in the US proper where it was illegal to view ¨C to be discussed quietly. Despite the authorities best efforts, streams from the deadly gladiator fights were easy enough to find on most torrenting sites, and even a casual glance at the average number of downloads could tell you that the vicious blood sport had long since outstripped more conventional sports like football and soccer in popularity. God knows, Sarah loves it, thinking of the volatile woman¡¯s passion for the gory spectacle, even if she often tried to downplay it in retrospect. Honestly, he was surprised she had yet to attend a live event. Perhaps her scars are keeping away? Or maybe she¡¯s just too busy? So no, it wasn¡¯t surprising to discover that even the more morally sound Gravity was a fan. ¡­Still, he had to ask, ¡°I would have thought you would take issue with it¡­ you know, after?¡± ¡°After what?¡± Gravity mumbled as she set about linking her Omni-pad to the TV. ¡°The whole¡­ slavery thing?¡± Gravity paused mid-screen press, and Erich wondered if he might have been better off keeping his mouth shut. ¡°It¡¯s not slavery though.¡± She said finally, pressing down on the play button. ¡°Could have fooled me.¡± Erich muttered as the screen filled with the bombastic intro of the Death Dome. ¡°It¡¯s not.¡± The Meta insisted, snuggling down into her seat. ¡°If a meta falls into debt, they can join up with the Dome to have it paid off. Of course, they then have to pay the Dome back by taking part in the gladiator matches.¡± Erich remained sceptical as the commentator on screen started to list the stats for the upcoming match. ¡°And how many actually manage it?¡± Gravity shrugged. ¡°Dunno, some? I guess it depends on how much they owed to begin with?¡± The screen changed to show a young woman in armour that was about as impractical as one could get before looking outright silly. Erich couldn¡¯t help but wonder if that was her choice or the Dome¡¯s? ¡°But you¡¯ve never actually heard of someone doing it?¡± Erich persisted, an idea forming in his head as the battle on screen commenced; the young woman from before lashing out with a glittering chain, against a man who could literally set himself ablaze. ¡°Nah, I¡¯ve heard of a few. Last year¡¯s champion freed herself. Although it was a close run thing. She took down more than a few heavy hitters before the end.¡± ¡°Did she now?¡± And how many of those she went up against toward the end were also close to attaining their freedom? More than a few he was willing to bet. ¡°Hey, where are you going?¡± Gravity asked as he stood up, ¡°I thought we were going to watch TV?¡± ¡°We are,¡± Erich muttered distractedly. ¡°I just need to make a quick phone call first.¡± Chapter Thirty Seven The local Headquarters for the Death Dome was as brightly coloured and ostentatious as Erich had imagined. It was also just as heavily armed, with scores of guards in matching body armour patrolling the grounds around the repurposed football stadium. The chain link fences tipped with razor wire and guard towers made the place look more like military base than a sports centre, but he supposed that when the sport in question was gladiator combat performed by superhumans, a little extra security made sense. Still, as Erich clambered out of the van, he couldn¡¯t help but admire the organization of it all. Matching uniforms. Disciplined guards. Well-maintained and standardized equipment. After so long surrounded by barely literate gangsters, it was good to see that the West Coast was actually capable of sustaining a more professional sort of organization. It was like a breath of fresh air, one that satisfied a niggling desire that he hadn¡¯t known he had until just now. Perhaps I could convince Sarah to revamp the Saints in the same way once all this was over? Walking over toward the ticket booth, he surreptitiously gripped the laser pistol in his pocket, more for the sense of security it gave him than any real expectation of using it. There was a queue, of course, and he had to wait in line with everyone else. In other circumstances he might have feared being pickpocketed in the tight confines of the crowd, but the watchful eyes of the guards positioned around the place must have been enough to scare off any would be pickpockets, because he didn¡¯t have to fend off a probing set off hands even once. ¡°Hello, how can I help you?¡± A well-dressed young man asked from behind the glass as Erich finally made it to the front, not even blinking at Erich¡¯s full facemask. ¡°I¡¯m the Mechromancer,¡± he said. ¡°I called earlier about speaking to one of the contestants about a business arrangement?¡± The staff member blinked, before glancing at the screen in front of them, fingers dancing across the keys. ¡°Ah yes,¡± they said after a moment. ¡°You wished to speak with the gladiator ¡®Overdrive¡¯, correct?¡± Struggling not to cringe at the name, Erich nodded warily. The clerk gestured over to the side, where a member of the security staff was waiting. ¡°Great, if you would just speak to my associate over there, he should be able to sort you out.¡± Erich¡¯s words of thanks went unheard, the clerk calling for the next customer to step up before he¡¯d even stepped away. Unbothered by the brash treatment, Erich strode over the indicated guard. ¡°Sponsor?¡± The man asked without preamble, his voice distorted by the full-face mask. ¡°Something like that.¡± Erich shrugged. ¡°Name of the patron?¡± He continued, unbothered by the slightly vague reply. ¡°Erich¡¯s Armaments.¡± ¡°Never heard of you, so she¡¯s not interested,¡± the guard grunted. ¡°Girl¡¯s got enough sponsors and is already approaching the end of her time here anyway.¡± Despite the careless dismissal, Erich wasn¡¯t so offended that he didn¡¯t notice that the guy had said ¡®end of her time¡¯ rather than something more positive, like ¡®the end of her debts¡¯. Which only lent more credence to the idea he had planned to make a cornerstone of his argument. ¡°I had to come over to you to be told that?¡± Erich said, ¡°couldn¡¯t the clerk over there have told me that?¡± The guard shrugged, ¡°it¡¯s not his call. Who gets access to where is to be decided by the closest security official on site. That¡¯s me, and I¡¯ve decided you do not need access.¡± Rolling his eyes, Erich reached into his pocket, ignoring the slight tensing of the guy in front of him, as he pulled out a roll of notes. ¡°Is this enough to convince you that my sponsorship would be beneficial?¡± He sighed. Gripping the wad of bills, the thug didn¡¯t even bother to count them before sliding them into one of his pockets, ¡°of course. I¡¯ll escort you to her room right now.¡± Reaching his hand up to his ear, the guard went still as he assumedly spoke into his mic. As Erich watched, helmeted heads around the compound lifted up. Then, with almost indecent haste, one of them came running over. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go.¡± The first guard said as his replacement took up his position. Following after him as the man took off toward the stadium, Erich couldn¡¯t help but ask, ¡°that was a quick response. You important around here?¡± His escort laughed, the sound made unpleasant by the distortion of his helmet. ¡°Fuck no. Guarding the ticket booths just happens to be a popular spot. It¡¯s where the most ¡®bureaucratic lubricant¡¯ comes in, if you catch my drift?¡± Erich sighed at the casual allusion to bribery. He had been hoping his own admittance had been a one off. Instead it seemed that it was simply the done thing. So much for professionalism, he thought.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Underneath the matching uniforms and orderly manner, it seemed that the security forces at the Dome had no more integrity than any other street gang. How disappointing¡­ Still, as the pair stepped through the winding corridors underneath the stadium, Erich found his mind turning toward the task ahead. Although as he did, he found himself wishing he could have brought Sarah or Gravity. Speaking was more their talent than his. Unfortunately, the ongoing cold war between the Saints and the Kings was beginning to heat up, and Sarah had thrown herself into the planning phase with a vengeance. If their was a meeting between the Saints that she hadn¡¯t attended since their induction, he didn¡¯t know about it. ¡­Which wouldn¡¯t be hard. Given his lack of immediate use, Zigzag had more or less frozen him out of the decision-making process. A fact that would have annoyed him if, you know, cared. Even Gravity knew more about the coming gang war than he did. Despite being a lot less invested in the Saints and Sarah¡¯s inevitable coup, she seemed perfectly happy to hang out with Myra while familiarizing herself with the organization. Although, when he considered that she was soon going to fighting alongside them, he could understand why she might consider it important to build up some rapport of her own. Although it did leave him feeling more than a little exposed in the shop these days, with only Limpy and Grace for company. Neither of which were great conversationalists. Even if they were though, both were busy, as more and more members of the Saints had shown up at the shop to check out his wares. At first, he had thought about they were just checking in on him, but it seemed most of them were genuinely interested in his wares. Sure, it wasn¡¯t meta tech, but even his conventional guns were better than the crappy knocks off that made up most of the West Coast¡¯s weapons market. Albeit, with increased quality came a slight mark-up in price, but if that was negatively affecting his sales in anyway, he hadn¡¯t seen it. He was just pondering whether it might be worth investing in a second fabricator when the guard came to a stop in front of a heavy set steel door. Glancing at it, Erich could see the words ¡®Overdrive¡¯ stencilled on it in chipped and faded white paint. Leaning over, the guard pushed his keycard up against a pad in the wall, prompting the attached light to turn green as a heavy set thunk came from the entrance¡¯s locking mechanism. ¡°I¡¯ll be back in an hour to let you out.¡± Erich quirked an eyebrow, ¡°you¡¯re just going to lock me in there with her?¡± He wasn¡¯t too concerned about being locked in himself. The locking mechanism of the door looked sturdy enough, but he doubted it would stand up to a few overcharged blasts from his gun. The guard shrugged, ¡°she¡¯s got a collar on that¡¯ll lock her down if she makes an aggressive move, and most people aren¡¯t dumb enough to damage the Dome¡¯s property.¡± ¡°Still seems a bit risky.¡± Erich muttered as he pulled open the door. ¡°There¡¯s a hefty bill attached to damaging a gladiator,¡± the guy said. ¡°Which means that in the unlikely event you did manage to kill or maim one, you¡¯d either be replacing them in the arena, or paying the Dome your own bodyweight in gold for damages. Either way, the Dome wins.¡± But not the gladiator, Erich thought grimly as he stepped inside. He hadn¡¯t really known what he would see on the other side. A prison cell? An expensive apartment? Maybe even a stasis chamber with a rapidly defrosting gladiator? A workshop hadn¡¯t been outside the realm of possibility, but it wouldn¡¯t have been his first guess. Although it should have been, in retrospect, he thought as his mind took in the massive vehicle sitting in the middle of the garage. After all, Overdrive was predominantly a Hell-Racer, and the contestants in those bloody vehicular contests would surely need an area to actually work on their vehicles. And it was an impressive vehicle, he had to admit. Heavily armoured, the six wheeled frame was built for combat as much as speed. Much like a battle tank, the armoured plates were designed to angle projectiles away from the frame rather than absorb the incoming kinetic energy. The fact those same angles helped to streamline the vehicle to improve speed seemed more incidental than anything else. An impression reinforced by the 40mm turret welded almost haphazardly into where the passenger seat would otherwise have been. Still, for all that it was an impressive looking vehicle, Erich could spot a half dozen deficiencies in the design. From simple ergonomics to an overdesigned autoloading system, the thing was rife with amateur errors. The most glaring of which was the sheer number of redundant systems he could see haphazardly installed all over the vehicle. As much as I enjoy seeing a decent backup system, this is just excessive, Erich thought as he pulled off his mask to better inspect what he suspected to be space set aside for a second engine. Fresh weld marks, he thought, running his bare fingers over the seam. In fact, the more he looked, the more he found that most of these redundancies were new. All of which set a disturbing - if in line with his own theories - picture. ¡°Like what you see?¡± Erich nearly jumped out of his skin, as he spun round. I do. I definitely do. Overdrive was gorgeous. And more than a little trashy, his brain absently pointed out, but he was quick to silence that mildly misogynistic comment. The racer¡¯s jeans were tattered, her tank top barely concealed anything, and what little was concealed looked to be fast approaching the limits of its structural integrity. ¡°Yeah, you do.¡± She grinned, as Erich felt a flush wash over him. ¡°Y-yes, It¡¯s an impressive vehicle,¡± he grunted, trying to regain some decorum. The redhead¡¯s quirked eyebrow told him how little he was fooled by his deflection. Still, she seemed happy enough at the compliment, as she turned to run a hand over the pockmarked metal of her car. ¡°That she is.¡± The woman murmured, ¡°but I already knew that. What I want to know is what you want?¡± She hopped up onto the hood of the car, unsubtly giving herself a height advantage, ¡°if you¡¯re looking for a sponsorship deal, I¡¯m afraid you¡¯re a little late to the party.¡± She gestured to her vehicle, which was liberally festooned with logos, ¡°as you can see, I don¡¯t really have much room left to work with.¡± She raised a finger, ¡°and before you suggest I move some stuff around to fit your logo, know that I charge by the square inch, and there are already bought up. So no, I can¡¯t move anything. Nor would I want to when I¡¯m all of seven races off earning my freedom.¡± She continued in the same bored tone of voice, as if she¡¯d said this a thousand times before. Which, for all Erich knew, she likely had. ¡°Although, I imagine you were already told all this by the assholes at the entrance, and insisted on seeing me anyway, which means you¡¯re probably about to force me to hear your sales pitch anyway.¡± Erich nodded absently, as he searched through his pockets. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s exactly what I intend to do.¡± Pulling out a cylindrical device, he placed it on the floor, flicking on one of the buttons, while she watched with vague curiosity, ¡°You see I am here today representing Erich¡¯s Armaments, a local store that supplies only the- and I reckon that¡¯s enough.¡± He grunted as he stood up again, eying the surroundings. ¡°Enough what?¡± Overdrive asked, as he stepped over to the door and pressed his ear against. ¡°Long enough for that,¡± he said, gesturing at the plain black cylinder, ¡°to jam any bugs that might happen to be in the room. Right now they should be playing a little speech that I recorded on the way over here.¡± If there was one good thing that had come out of his tussle with the Hangman, it was that he¡¯d got his hands on an incredibly powerful piece of jamming tech. ¡°Wha- why?¡± His companion asked, seemingly thrown off her game for the first time since he¡¯d entered the room. ¡°Why, to give you my real business proposition of course.¡± Erich grunted as he kept his ear to the door, making sure their were no eavesdroppers on the other side. ¡°And just maybe save your life in the process.¡± Chapter Thirty Eight ¡°You¡¯re approaching the upper limits of your ability.¡± He stated bluntly, cutting off the woman as she opened her mouth to argue. ¡°The closer you get to attaining freedom, the stiffer the competition becomes. In the last two months you¡¯ve just barely managed to scrape out a ¡®victory¡¯ in each race you¡¯ve taken part of, narrowly avoiding death by ¡®timeout¡¯ each time.¡± Timeout being the lovely euphemism for the horde of wrecker drones that eliminated the last place car at the conclusion of each lap of the race¡¯s second half. Each drone being piloted by a lucky, and invariably wealthy, VIP stream viewer who wanted to feel more personally involved in the action. And of course, as the race had eight laps and sixteen racers, that meant a guaranteed twenty five percent casualty rate in each race. At minimum, Erich thought, as he considered the racers who were eliminated by their fellow racers rather than the drones; that being a convenient way for a last place driver to avoid being eliminated via drone. Of course, it wasn¡¯t like any of the racers stopped fighting at the point where they were safe from elimination either. With that thought in mind, Erich continued, ¡°at the rate you¡¯re going you¡¯ll be dead in the next-¡± ¡°Fuck you!¡± The redhead hissed, startling him from his explanation. Looking up, he barely avoided the wrench that flew past his face, ducking back at the last second. ¡°What the fuck!?¡± He shouted, scrambling further backward, nearly tripping over discarded tools as he went. ¡°Fuck you!¡± Overdrive reiterated, ¡°coming in here, interrupting my sleep, and saying I¡¯m going to die. I¡¯ll kick your fucking ass!¡± Erich punched her in the face. The woman clattered back on her ass. Silence filled the room. For just a second, the pair stood there in equal parts incomprehension. ¡°You punched me?¡± The woman said, clutching her nose, apparently more stunned than angry. ¡°You broke my fucking nose.¡± ¡°Hardly,¡± Erich muttered, shaking out his sore hand. I definitely broke her nose, he winced, gripping his sore knuckles. ¡°It is broken.¡± The woman shouted back, showing him a palm full of blood. ¡°The Dome are gonna take that out of your fuckin'' hide.¡± Somehow, he sincerely doubted- ...Yes, yes they would. He¡¯d just damaged their property. Gladiators were worth more when they were photogenic. People didn¡¯t want to see ugly people dying horribly after all. Shit. ¡°You attacked me!¡± He defended, mind racing as he calculated how much this would cost. Overdrive was utterly unrepentant, ¡°you said I was going to die, you fucking ass.¡± ¡°I was going to explain how I was going to help you not die you dumb cunt!¡± ¡°Well fucking lead with that next time.¡± She cursed, clambering back up to her feet, though to his relief it seemed she was in no hurry to continue their little squabble. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry,¡± Erich began sarcastically, well aware that this was one of the reasons why he really should let Gravity or Sarah do the talking. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect you to attack me before I could finish my fucking sentence.¡± ¡°Well I¡¯m sorry that the subject of my imminent demise is a touchy subject for me.¡± She shot back, ¡°and that, combined with a schedule that allows for little in the way of sleep ¨C sleep that you¡¯re interrupting by the way - might make me a little impulsive than the average chick off the street. Would it have killed you to use even a hint of tact?¡± No, but then again, the thought hadn¡¯t even occurred to him. He wasn¡¯t about to admit that though, and by the looks of her, Overdrive wasn¡¯t about to apologize for her attempted assault either. So, the pair stood in stubborn silence, staring murder at one another.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Where did the sultry seductress from before go? He wondered absently. ¡°Do you want to hear what I have to say or not?¡± Erich finally ground out when his irritation at the time he was wasting finally won out over his need to win their impromptu contest in stubbornness. ¡°Sure,¡± the attractive woman grinned, clutching an oil rag to her bloody nose. Underneath it though, he could see that she was all but preening at her tiny victory. That annoys me more than it should. Barely throttling down his irritation, Erich continued, ¡°As I was saying, before I was interrupted, your abilities as an Artificer are reaching their upper limit. I estimate that at the current rate you are going you will be eliminated within the next few races.¡± The redhead harrumphed, but gestured for him to go on. ¡°Which is why, I am willing to aid you in improving your vehicle. With my aid you should be able to-¡± ¡°You¡¯re an artificer?¡± Again with the interruptions, Erich thought. ¡°I¡¯m something better than an Artificer. Someone who¡¯s actually halfway competent.¡± He snorted. Overdrive laughed, ¡°Ah, I get it now. You¡¯re a crazy person.¡± Erich physically throttled down the urge to punch her in the face again. Calm, calm, he repeated. We prepared for this. Don¡¯t blow it now. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his Omni-Pad. ¡°Take a look at this.¡± Overdrive rolled her eyes, but dutifully plucked the device out of his hand. The pair stood in silence as the woman looked it over, one of her hands still clutching an oily cloth to her nose. Despite himself, Erich had to give her credit for that. That had to hurt, and yet, other than her initial complaints, the gladiator hadn¡¯t made shown any sign of her discomfort. Clearly not a stranger to pain, he thought as his eyes roamed over her, picking out scars and bruises that he hadn¡¯t notice before. Her body was a tapestry of them, a legacy of her time in the Dome. The kind that could only be attained through multiple scrapes with death. He would know, he had plenty enough of his own from his own ¡®rough and tumble¡¯ childhood. Shaking his head to dismiss memories that no longer held any relevance to him, he focused on the woman in front of him. He was utterly sure that she would see the merit of what he was suggesting. Annoying as she is, Overdrive¡¯s still a competent- ¡°I¡¯ve no idea what I¡¯m looking at.¡± Erich¡¯s thoughts came to a screeching halt, nearly dropping the pad as it was carelessly tossed back to him. ¡°Excuse me?¡± He coughed. ¡°I¡¯ve no idea what you were trying to show me,¡± Overdrive drawled, pointing to the pad clutched to Erich¡¯s chest. ¡°Explain it.¡±
¡°You know what this is right?¡± Myra looked up from her inspection of a brand-new laser rifle contained within a glass case to glance at Erich¡¯s Omni-Pad. The purple woman gazed at the screen for a few seconds, before shrugging. ¡°Can¡¯t particularly say I do.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a diagram!¡± Erich shouted, ¡°a diagram of an engine!¡± Myra seemed more amused than offended by his sudden outburst, and that amusement only grew as Erich deflated, slumping down against the counter. ¡°I take it this has something to do with the new stock you¡¯ve got in?¡± She chuckled, gesturing at the wide array of gleaming new weaponry that occupied the store. Erich snorted at the transparent attempt to gain information, ¡°something like that. It¡¯s payment for a recent ¡®consultation¡¯ I performed.¡± Hopefully one of many, provided his client lived long enough to request repeat business from him. ¡°All this from a single consultation?¡± Myra whistled, glancing about the place. Well, most of it was stripped out of the woman''s wreck of a vehicle, once he demonstrated the he knew what he was talking about. Overdrive was positively eager to accept his help. Perhaps in other circumstances she might have been more suspicious and taken things slower, but as he had guessed, she was getting desperate. ¡°What can I say? I keep telling you people I¡¯m good.¡± He shifted his head to aim a one-eyed look at the current occupant of his store. ¡°By all rights, I should be charging you just for talking to me.¡± ¡°Aw, but Erich, I thought we were friends?¡± The purple woman said, adopting a wounded expression. ¡°Friends don¡¯t spy on each other.¡± He pointed out. ¡°Clearly you¡¯ve not spent enough time in this shithole of a city. Everyone spies on everyone. ¡°Myra said without preamble, ¡°and besides, ¡®spying¡¯ is such a harsh word. Consider this Zigzag¡¯s way of looking out for you after stealing away both your lady friends.¡± ¡°The two thugs you¡¯ve got hanging out on the street corner weren¡¯t enough?¡± Erich asked. Myra shrugged, prompting him to sigh. ¡°Well alright, you¡¯re here, you¡¯ve seen me. I¡¯m still alive.¡± If only barely. He¡¯d had to deal with all of three customers that morning, but the more time he spent in here, the more he was having flashbacks to running his crappy electronics shop back in New Granton. By the time Myra showed up he¡¯d been seriously considering ¡®stealing¡¯ another street urchin to run the store for him while Grace was out with Gravity. I mean, what are the chances of me starting another gang war in the process? He wondered. Knowing his luck, it was almost guaranteed. ¡­And yet, part of me thinks it might be worth it. Anything to escape the monotony that is working in retail. ¡°Trying to get rid of me so soon?¡± Myra asked as she returned her attention to his wares; this time, a pistol with an oversized capacitor that he would put decent odds on being able to pierce even a tanks armor under thirty paces. Of course, it wouldn¡¯t be good for much else after cranking up the output that high, but he considered anti-armor capabilities an even trade-off. ¡°Yes?¡± He hesitated, the statement coming off more as a question. And that was the annoying thing. He liked Myra. Or at least, as much as he liked anyone. Of his immediate acquaintances, he felt that her morals most closely aligned to his. She wasn¡¯t trying to rule the world or save it. She just wanted to live her life and grab whatever scraps of joy she could out of it as she did. It was just unfortunate for him that that same mindset likely meant she would grind his skull into a fine dust if a situation ever came up where she felt she needed to. Supposedly an unlikely scenario given that they were now ostensibly working for the same boss, but they were both well aware of the wide gulf between ¡®ostensibly¡¯ and reality. Hence, why the woman was checking up on him, and Bronte and Gravity had been split up. ¡°Is that indecision I hear?¡± Myra teased. Erich sighed, slamming his head back into the counter. When did his life get so complicated? He just wanted to build laser cannons and occasionally rain artillery down on the heads of the unworthy? Was that such a big ask? Chapter Thirty Nine It was well after one in the morning when Ethan staggered into his apartment. Blearily resetting the lock on the door, he stepped into the kitchen, careful not to make too much noise as he slipped off his Saints jacket and placed his gun down on the kitchen table. Normally the weapon was locked away in his room within moments of him entering the house, but the man figured that given the hour, the weapon was safe from questing hands for just the moment. At least, it damn well better be, he thought wryly. It was a school night after all, and if the kids weren¡¯t in bed and fast asleep by now there was going to be hell to pay. A quick peak upstairs filled him with relief though. Both his kids were there, snoring away in their rooms. The sight soothed him. As it always did. As much as he wanted to make the journey across the hall to his own bed to finally rest his weary body, he knew from long experience that even if he did, no sleep would be forthcoming. He would just lie there, awake and jittery. He always was after a firefight, and he knew it would take hours before he was calm enough to even attempt to go to sleep. Of course, by the time that happened he would need to get back up again anyway to get the kids ready for school, make breakfast, and pack them both a lunch each. They could do it themselves of course, Brock and Shelly were certainly old enough now, but it was the one time of the day he actually got to see them and he refused to give it up. His kids might not have a mother anymore, but he would be damned if they didn¡¯t have a dad. Of course, that still left him with a few hours to burn. Considering the wafer-thin nature of the buildings cheap walls, watching tv was right out. The house had come with a few books on the shelves, but no one in the family was much of a reader, and they had very quickly found themselves pawned off. Which really just left him with one option. The laptop. Pulling the old computer out of its hiding place, Ethan winced as the clattery old thing¡¯s fans loudly whirred to life, disturbing the quiet of his home. Still, slow, noisy and laborious as the ancient machine¡¯s boot-up was, it did eventually start up properly. Firing up the web-browser, the father of two momentarily considered going straight to a porn site. Firing one off was one way he¡¯d found to ¡®relieve¡¯ tension after a particularly close call ¨C and the today¡¯s brief shootout with the Kings certainly counted. The purple cunts had been getting more and more brazen about pushing up against Saints territory, and today had finally been the day that something had popped off. He¡¯d been lounging around with a few other guys, ostensibly guarding the lobby of a Saint ¡®sponsored¡¯ whorehouse, when a dozen purple cunts had charged in and started shooting up the place. It was pure luck that Ethan wasn¡¯t one of the guys caught up that initial salvo, and he¡¯d hastily scrambled past the screaming whores ¨C and Saints ¨C to dive over the bar. Which of course, being in Portland, was reinforced enough to act as decent cover from a hail of gunfire. Not that that knowledge had given him much relief, as gunfire rang out, and shattered bottles of booze fell all around him. His clothes, while no longer soaked as a result of that experience, still stunk like a brewery. Which at the very least, is still a step-up from blood, he shuddered, remembering the scene that greeted him when the gunfire had stopped and he¡¯d dared to peak his head out. Now Ethan was no bleeding heart. He used whores, and he wasn¡¯t delicate about it. That¡¯s what they were paid for, just like he was paid to crack heads, and possibly have his own cracked in turn. That was life. But even he¡¯d felt his stomach turn at what remained of the front of that bordello. Men and women in various states of undress, strewn about and bleeding. Some dead. Some alive and screaming. He could still remember looking out at a young woman, scarcely a few years older than Shelly, slumped over a couch, eyes wide and glassy as they stared off into nothingness. Of course, that had been the moment the surviving Saints returned fire, and he¡¯d been forced to remember that he had a job to do. Everything thereafter had devolved into a continuous haze of panic and anger. What felt like hours of it. Stuck in a stalemate. And then it ended just suddenly as it had begun. Out of nowhere, a big purple bitch had run straight into the Kings, shrugging off gunfire without batting an eyelash. It was all over after that, Zigzag had showed up while the Amazonian woman was mopping up, he¡¯d been debriefed on what happened, given his ¡®hazard pay¡¯ and sent on his way home. Still, that image stuck in his mind. That purple bruiser shrugging off bullets like they were nothing. Less than nothing. The Kings couldn¡¯t harm her with what they had on hand, and she knew it. ¡°Prowler,¡± he murmured, finally remembering the name of the Bruiser. The chick who¡¯d shown up a few months back. ¡°Didn¡¯t she also bring in a few more meta-human¡¯s recently?¡± A lightning chick for sure, he¡¯d definitely seen that one about. A snooty blonde with a freaky mask. Her and two others. He vaguely recalled someone talking about a chick who make stuff float a few days back¡­ Which just left the last one. It was a dude, which was rare, so it should have stuck out in his mind. He was an Artificer wasn¡¯t he? He was sure he was, but he also swore he heard someone saying he wasn¡¯t. Then he remembered something. Guns. He¡¯d seen a few guys wondering around with some fancy looking hardware just last week. He¡¯d had no idea what the massive rifles did, but based on all the dials and wires on the things, he was willing to bet it was something fancier than spit lead. Some kind of blackhole cannon or some shit like that. He was willing to be that a gun like that would give even a Bruiser pause for thought. Idly he ran a hand hand over where his own gun sat. A cheap Chinese knockoff of the classic BP-5, the thing was popular on the coast for its reliability and ease of maintenance. The thing didn¡¯t have much stopping power or a great fire-rate, but it was light and had next to no recoil. Which made it an ideal weapon for women and children. Which also made it a perfect fit for somewhere like the West Coast, where the word civilian didn¡¯t really exist. Everyone was a potential enemy combatant, and often employed as such.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Still, he thought looking over the bullpup, it might as well be a water gun for all the good it would do me if I went up against a meta¡­ That didn¡¯t sit well with him. Not at all. Coming to a decision, he typed in the address of the Saint¡¯s forums. The message board was pretty much an open secret amongst the gang, and he imagined other crews had something similar. The thing didn¡¯t have any ¡®official¡¯ orders on it, but it was a convenient way for the gang to keep in touch and be kept up to date. The thing had some decent cyber security he didn¡¯t quite understand, but Ethan knew Zigzag would come down like a sack of bricks on anyone who was dumb enough to think that meant it was safe to use to discuss any ongoing operations. No, the place was more for the rank and file to be kept appraised of things going on. This could mean anything from rival gang movements to info on enemy Metas all the way down to which vendors were now ¡®gang¡¯ affiliated, and thus safe to buy from. Which was exactly what Ethan was interested in. Topic: Erich¡¯s Armaments (Not Gravity¡¯s Guns, as was previously posted.) In: Associated Vendors Bronte (Original Poster) (Member) (Meta) (Block Captain) Posted On July 6th 2019: Greeting Saints. As I¡¯m sure many of you already know, I am Bronte. What many of you do not know however is that I am a close associate of Mechromancer (the proprietor of Erich¡¯s Armaments). As the man himself has declined to make himself or his business known on this message board, I have taken it upon myself to do it for him. If you wish to speak to the man himself about his wares, you may do so at the store, although I would strongly recommend against it. The man has little patience for people, and I need not remind anyone of what happened to the last person to irritate him. For anyone who¡¯s memory is faulty however, I would direct them to the street outside the store, where bits of Alloy can still be seen littering the street. In the coming weeks I shall be classifying the myriad Meta-tech tools and weapons he has created before posting them on this site for your perusal. With that in mind, here is the first weapon he has begun the process of standardizing for sale: The M2P3 ¡®Red-Eye¡¯ Laser Pistol: The Red-Eye functions as a fully automatic pistol in that so long as the trigger is depressed it will continuously pulse high power laser beams. These beams are more than capable of penetrating the body of a civilian car (TESTED), concrete (Tested), and the resistances of some low-level Bruisers (Tested). Upon coming into contact with the human body the beam flash-heats any water within, resulting in an effect known as ¡®explosive vaporization¡¯. In the event of a hit to an individual¡¯s centre mass this effect is invariably instantly fatal. BleedsWhiteandYellow (Member) Replied on July 6th 2019: The lady¡¯s not lying. Bought one of these on a whim(an expensive one) a while back to use as a holdout weapon. Figured it looked intimidating if nothing else. Was forced to use it the other day and boy did it work. No recoil, but it¡¯ll blow a hole in someone the size of a watermelon. In armour or behind cover? Doesn¡¯t matter. StreetMook (Member) Replied on July 7th 2019: Yeah, that¡¯s good and all, but would it have killed you to mention it only has twenty shots? I nearly lost an eye today because it ran out an inopportune moment. BeaverFur (Member) (Meta) (Unit Leader) Replied on July 7th 2019: StreetMook: That¡¯s your own dumbass fault for not asking. What kind of idiot gets into a firefight without knowing how many shots is in his or her gun? Old_Man (Member) Probably one of the new guys Zigzag let in. I know we need bodies if we¡¯re going to have a chance against the Kings, but some of these dumbasses¡­ Ethan sighed as the posts from there devolved into an argument between the new guys and the veterans. Ethan himself was a member of the latter group, but he personally had no issue with the new guys. As far as he was concerned every person they could put in white and yellow was another body between the Kings and his kids. Still, this ¡®Red-eye¡¯ sounded exactly like what he was looking for. Well, not exactly, he thought as he looked at the accompanying image. He wasn¡¯t much a fan of pistols, least of all using them as a primary weapon. Lots of the kids in the outfit preferred them for ease of use and access, but Ethan knew that nine times out of ten they couldn¡¯t hit the broad side of a barn door with one when bullets started flying. No, if you were using a pistol effectively then you were already closer to the fight than he wanted to be. ¡°And I¡¯m damn well using it as my primary if I¡¯m paying that much for it,¡± he muttered as he looked at the accompanying price tag. Scrolling to the bottom of the page, he was relieved to see that the thread continued. (Showing page 6 of 7) CopKiller69 (Member) Replied on July 16th 2019: Got a King in the stomach with one today. Should have heard him scream like a piggy. Was downright magical to watch him try to scoop his guts back in. Best. Gun. Ever. HumanBeing (Member) (Unit Leader) Replied on July 16th 2019: CopKiller69: Let me guess, former Blood Hounds member? Seems we¡¯re taking in anyone these days. Finish him off quickly next time. The Saints at least like to pretend we¡¯re better than the average thug. Sebas_Tian (Member) Posted On July 17th 2019: Bronte: Do you know when Mechromancer¡¯s gonna get more Red-Eye¡¯s in? Girl at the desk said she didn¡¯t know, and they¡¯ve been sold out the last two times I¡¯ve been in. Really need to get one. Manacle¡¯s been sighted a few times round my block. Bronte (Original Poster) (Member) (Meta) (Block Captain) Posted On July 18th 2019: Sebas_Tian: Erich should be restocking the Red-Eye in conjunction with his release of his latest products. The M2S3-X1 ¡®Hot-Shot¡¯ Carbine: Based on the frame of the M2S3, the Hot-Shot Carbine functions as a longer-range alternative to the classic Red-Eye. In addition the added stock, barrel length and coolant sheathe, the Hot-Shot has a heavy-duty powerpack slung under the barrel. This allows for a weapon with greater ammo capacity and firing speed than its predecessor, albeit at the cost of size and weight. The MXD2 ¡®Helot¡¯ Sentry Drone An entry level sentry drone, the Helot provides around the clock automated security to the customer on a budget. While neither particularly durable or adaptable, the Helot has the same basic programming suite as any other drone that may be found on the market. It is capable of utilizing firearms, patrolling in a set pattern, following an individual, and performing basic threat recognition. Note: Firearm not included. BeaverFur (Member) (Meta) (Unit Leader) Replied on July 18th 2019: The product description pretty much says it all. The Hot-Shot¡¯s a beefier version of the Red-Eye. It¡¯s got an ammo capacity of one hundred rounds rather than twenty, can fire for longer before overheating, and the stock reduces what little recoil was already there. The only downside is that it¡¯s heavier, and you can¡¯t conceal it. If you¡¯re walking around with this thing, everyone¡¯s going to know it. Whether that¡¯s a positive or a negative is up to you. As for the drone, I¡¯ve got no idea. Saw a few in the shop while I was there. They look nothing like the one that sits behind the counter. Think the girl called it ¡®Limpy?¡¯ Weird fucking name for a drone. Thing doesn¡¯t even limp. The Helots on the other hand look like they¡¯re held together by scrap and duct tape. Make no mistake, these things aren¡¯t going to survive more than a few rounds before falling apart, if that. Still, they tracked me as I walked in, walked around, and they were holding their guns without falling over. So I suppose if you desperately need a drone for dirt cheap, you could do worse. Not really much of a drone guy though, so I could be wrong. TechnoFangirl (Member) (Block Leader) Replied on July 19th 2019: Beaver¡¯s not wrong. I bought one to run a few tests. Ran it through a little obstacle course, before shooting a few targets. It passed. If only barely. Now this might not seem too impressive, until you consider the price of the things. A ¡®proper¡¯ sentry drone will cost the same as a decent car (bought not stolen), so these things are basically a bargain. If I didn¡¯t already have a dozen Omni-Tech drones already I would be filling out my ranks with these. As it is I¡¯m recommending anyone in my block get one. They¡¯re an extra set of hands (and a gun) in a fight, if nothing else. Edit: And yes, one of the ones I picked up was using a reversed Omni-Pad as its primary visual system. When I say these things are cheap, I do mean cheap. Edit: Edit: Strangest thing, I¡¯ve pulled mine apart, and I still can¡¯t find the Meta-Tech component. If anyone¡¯s having better luck please PM me. Ethan lost interest after that. The rest of the comments pretty much said the same thing. ¡°Hot-Shot, huh¡­¡± he murmured, glancing over at the attached price tag. The number made him suck air through his teeth. It wasn¡¯t a small amount. Not even close. But is it worth more than your life? Came unbidden to him. Of their own accord, his eyes flicked upstairs. No, no it wasn¡¯t. Saving the address of the shop to his phone, he made a mental note to head straight there after the kids left for school. His Block Leader would be pissed that he was late for his patrol, but he figured it would be worth it if it reduced the risk of the store selling out before he arrived. Even a quick glance through the rest of the comments told him how popular these guns were getting, and he knew it was only a matter of time before demand outgrew supply. It always did where Artificers were concerned. Might even pick up one of those drones while I¡¯m at it, he thought. Who knew when a chance like this would come again? The guy could only make so many. It wasn¡¯t like the things were built on an assembly line. Chapter Forty Cold, Liam thought as he huddled in the alleyway, prize clutched to his chest as his moth-eaten jacket utterly failed to keep the biting wind and snow out. Apparently, there¡¯d been a coup a state over a few weeks ago, and some cunt of a supervillain had broken out a weather dominator during the fighting. Of course, after turning the entire city into an icy wasteland he got a bullet to the head for his troubles, and had his machine busted, but the entire region was still suffering the aftereffects. But none more so than the homeless population. At least, those of us far enough away to still be alive, Liam thought, shuddering from more than just cold as he imagined being at ground zero. From everything he had heard ¨C and he¡¯d heard a lot ¨C Seattle was now a city on the verge of death, with frozen corpses lying on every street corner. A situation not helped by the fact that loyalist and rebel factions were still squabbling over what little of the city was still functioning. Not that the final titbit of information had any bearing on the street urchin. No, the salient details were in the first bit of information. Someone had fucked up. It was cold, and it was going getting to get colder. Fortunately, the sudden drop in temperature would be as brief as it was fierce. So if he could survive that long, he would make it. ¡°Easier said than done,¡± he muttered. Still, it could be done, and the object clutched to his chest was the first step to doing it. He knew of a few places that would trade food or clothes for interesting bits of scrap, and he was hoping the half-burnt out control unit he¡¯d pulled out of an abandoned Master class Warbot would qualify. Now the question was which of the groups to trade with. The Blood Hounds were right out. The Kings were expanding, so they would probably be willing to buy. The issue was getting in and out without getting pressganged into a purple outfit. The Saints were usually a pretty safe bet, and he¡¯d heard they¡¯d got a new- ¡°Jesus Christ!¡± Liam screeched as a figure appeared from nothing in front of him. "Close," The cloaked figure said, a hint of smugness peeking out from under the thing¡¯s artificially distorted voice. ¡°I¡¯m the Mechromancer.¡± Liam didn¡¯t give a fuck what the thing¡¯s name was. He turned to run, only to realize that his back was to the wall, the thing across from him hemming him in. Rookie mistake, he thought absently, heart sinking as he realized he was trapped. How the fuck didn¡¯t I see him coming!? With flight out, and the metallic glint of the figure¡¯s mask making fighting a non-option, Liam resorted to his weapon of last resort. "Please, just take it! Don¡¯t hurt me!¡± He shrieked, flinging the control unit to the ground at the figure¡¯s feet. Even as the war-bot¡¯s head rolled to bump against the meta-human¡¯s ¨C and he was sure this guy was a meta-human at this point ¨C feet, he cursed internally at the unfairness of it all. He¡¯d needed that thing to have even a hope of surviving the coming weeks. "Relax." Mechromancer grunted, even as he bent down to pick up the device. "I''m not here for this.¡± He said, looking the device over. Then he seemed to rethink his statement, ¡°well, at least, not just for this.¡± ¡°Please, that¡¯s all I¡¯ve got.¡± Liam begged, watching as the man slipped the control unit into his cloak. "Not true." The figure drew closer, his cloak draped over what Liam was now realizing was an entire suit of metallic armor. ¡°You have arms. Legs. A brain. All manner of useful things for a man like myself.¡± "W-what?" Liam blinked, blood draining from his face. ¡°You¡¯re going to h-harvest my organs.¡± That stopped the man midstep. ¡°What? No!¡± The Mecrhomancer grunted, genuine affront once more peeking out from under his artificial tenor. ¡°Whatever gave you that idea?¡± ¡°Y-you were talking about my arms and legs and brains and stuff.¡± Liam squeaked. ¡°Employment.¡± The figure said. ¡°I was talking about employment.¡± He seemed to pause for a moment, before cocking his head curiously. ¡°That isn¡¯t an actual thing is it? Organ harvesting?¡± Liam shrugged, slowly coming to terms with the idea that he might not be about to die. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen it, but¡­ you hear rumours. A vague sound of disgust came from the suit, ¡°ugh, and here I thought my opinion of this city couldn¡¯t get any lower.¡± Liam didn¡¯t say anything. The guy wouldn¡¯t get any argument from him. Portland was the pits. ¡°So, do you want a job or not?¡± The guy asked, returning to the subject at hand. Heart still racing, Liam had to ask, ¡°what kind of job?¡± The figure shrugged, ¡°pretty much the same thing you¡¯re doing now. Find me parts. Bring them to one of my warehouses. I¡¯ll pay you, and even throw in a hot meal and somewhere to sleep.¡± The figure trailed off, and Liam was sure that behind that mask, the guy was looking him over appraisingly. ¡°Maybe a hot bath as well. You urchins are positively filthy.¡± Feeling an odd sort of indignance ¨C let this guy live on the street, see how clean he keeps himself ¨C Liam managed to inject a little scepticism into his next questions.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°And how do I know you won¡¯t skin me and use it for a lamp. Or sell me to slavers. Or shoot me for kicks and giggles.¡± He could have gone on. The list of unpleasant things that could happen to an unwary urchin on the streets of Portland was as long as his arm. ¡°You don¡¯t,¡± the figure shrugged. ¡°But unless I miss my mark, you don¡¯t really have a ton of choices.¡± Liam scowled. ¡°No, but I might have some if you hadn¡¯t taken the control unit off me.¡± The figure shrugged again, ¡°sorry, not sorry. I¡¯m not about to give it back. Come down to the warehouse on eight and second and I¡¯ll pay you a decent commission for it. Don¡¯t and¡­ well, no skin off my back.¡± With his piece apparently said, the villain turned away, disappearing in much the same way he appeared. Still, now Liam was looking for him, he could see a slight distortion in the air as something walked away. Cloaking tech, he realized. What he wouldn¡¯t give to get his hands on something like that. ¡°At least that way I might stop being ambushed and robbed by assholes in alleyways,¡± he thought glumly, dusting snow off himself as he stood up. He was going to go to that warehouse. As the guy said, what choice did he have? ¡°And who knows, miracle of miracles, the guy might actually be on the level.¡± He doubted it, but a guy could dream.
¡°Santa¡¯s workshop has really taken a downturn.¡± Myra grinned from her position leaned up against the wall. Erich didn¡¯t even glance over as he slapped snow off his new active camo-cloak onto the floor of his office. ¡°So you found me then?¡± he muttered as he slapped the control unit onto the table. He didn¡¯t even bother asking how she had gotten in. The drones weren¡¯t programmed to stop her after all. That would send entirely the wrong message, even if it would have been convenient. ¡°Were you trying to hide your latest venture?¡± The purple woman shot back. He shrugged. No, he hadn¡¯t really tried to hide this newest expansion of his business, but he hadn¡¯t gone out of his way to advertise it either. ¡°Please don¡¯t compare me to a fat old man,¡± he muttered, changing the subject as he gestured vaguely in the direction of the dozens of children and teens toiling away on the warehouse floor below. ¡°And please don¡¯t compare them to elves either. The drones have already had to stop two of them from knifing each other. Vicious little blighters, the lot of them.¡± If they were elves, then they were the mercurial and vicious sort of old legends. Not the kind you saw building toys in Santa¡¯s workshop. Myra¡¯s smile was undimmed as she stepped over the window. ¡°Still, pretty out of character for you to start up a workforce. Always figured you for more of a lone wolf sort of guy.¡± ¡°Couldn¡¯t meet the demand for merchandise by myself,¡± he admitted as he pried open a panel on the head in front of him. ¡°So I utilized a cheap nearby source of labour that had the skill set I needed.¡± It also helped that they were all but guaranteed to have no pre-existing allegiances. Myra chuffed as she turned to look at him. ¡°Street kids? Skills?¡± Erich shrugged as he started poking around inside the robotic head. Very impressive for the time, he admitted within the safety of his mind. Say what you would about the Master¡¯s eccentricities, he hadn¡¯t been Meta-man¡¯s rival for nothing. The guy had been as skilled an engineer as he was an Artificer. ¡°You might be surprised.¡± He said, drawing his attention back to the conversation at hand. ¡°I found most of these kids crawling all over the scrapyard looking for parts to trade.¡± They weren¡¯t educated by any stretch of the imagination, but most of them could recognize when a piece of machinery was valuable. Some of them could even identify the purpose of those parts. ¡°And all of them know how to pull something apart without destroying the bit they want,¡± he continued. ¡°So now you¡¯re having them do the same, but in reverse?¡± As she spoke, she looked down onto the warehouse floor, where a group of kids were all toiling around what was assumedly the frame of one of the new Helot drones. It was not a smooth process, and it seemed that none of them went more than a few seconds between looking at the drone and the tiny omni-pads they all seemed to be carrying. ¡°Hardly,¡± Erich scoffed. ¡°Half of them wouldn¡¯t even be able to build a toaster if I left them to their own devices.¡± Instead he opened his drawer and pulled an omni-pad from the pile within, tossing it to the purple woman. ¡°Each of them gets one of these, with an app I created already installed. Then they¡¯re designated a Helot limb. They¡¯re to only build that one thing. Helps build familiarity. They then go to that unholy mass of junk in the middle of the room. The camera on the front helps them identify a part they will need and gives them detailed instructions on where and how to install it. If they don¡¯t have the part they need, well, then they¡¯ve got to head out to scrap-yards once more.¡± He¡¯d gotten the idea from a monthly robotics magazine he¡¯d received as a child. It had a promotion where you could build your own robot from parts you received each month with each issue of the magazine. At the time it had been a welcome reprieve from ''training''. ¡°Sounds simple. Surprising no one¡¯s done it before.¡± Erich shook his head, ¡°simple in theory, complex in execution.¡± Designing the app that is. He¡¯d had to put together hundreds of different modular designs that could be built from wildly different combinations of parts. Then he¡¯d had to create a tutorial on how to put each together. To be fair, he¡¯d cheated on the latter part by using a dumb AI for much of the scripting, but it had still been a very tedious undertaking. Still it had been worth it. By the end of it, he¡¯d had his app. With it, building a Helot was so simple even a child could do it. As they are doing, he thought as he watched a drone whir to life down below, surrounded on all sides by awed and excited children. Of course, it then took one step forward and face planted straight into the ground, eliciting cries of shock and dismay from the crowd. To their credit though, it didn¡¯t take long for one of the older teens to step in, instructing the others to take apart the machine to look for the fault. Will have to keep an eye on that one, he thought absently as he turned back to the head in front of him. Good leadership skills. ¡°How much are you losing to thieving?¡± Myra said, ¡°I¡¯m surprised most of them don¡¯t just take the pad and run.¡± ¡°Some try.¡± He admitted, ¡°but I¡¯ve got drones on all the entrances.¡± Proper Spartois he¡¯d built himself. None of those piece of crap Helots. ¡°Some of them should have found a way around that by now,¡± Myra protested. ¡°They¡¯re street rats, it¡¯s what they do.¡± ¡°Some of them have. No big loss. The pads are programmed to wipe themselves if they leave the building, and the drones have facial recognition.¡± He gestured to the one stood behind him. ¡°If they do steal from me, they get to do it exactly once.¡± ¡°Only some?¡± Myra asked skeptically, ¡°I would have figured most of them would have scarpered with what is essentially a free score. You¡¯re kind of an asshole.¡± To be honest, Erich would have agreed with her before he started. He was kind of an asshole. Only, something peculiar had happened, and he didn¡¯t know how to feel about it. Not at all. And that made him more than a little uncomfortable. ¡°Well¡­ you see-¡± Fortunately for him, what would have been a stilted and awkward explanation for him was interrupted by a knock on the door. ¡°Enter,¡± he said, eternally thankful for the reprieve. Of course, that eternal thankfulness proved incredibly short lived the teen with ¡®leadership skills¡¯ from before walked into the room and Erich recognized the expression on his face. One he had often seen before, usually on the faces of those who met his family in their officially capacities as heroes, but he¡¯d never had aimed at him. Until now. Reverence, he thought uncomfortably. Chapter Forty One
¡°¡­Yes?¡± He asked as the young man stepped into the room. ¡°Darius, sir.¡± The boy said, casting an askance look at Myra, ¡°Darius Long.¡± That hadn¡¯t been what he¡¯d been asking, but Erich decided not to make an issue of it. ¡°Alright Darius, what do you need?¡± Having decided that Myra apparently wasn¡¯t a threat, the boy stepped over to the desk, bringing up his pad. ¡°We¡¯ve got a new part, sir. One that the machine says should work but doesn¡¯t.¡± He said, slightly nervous, as if expecting some form of rebuke. Not that the man he was speaking to really noticed that fact. He was too busy being relieved at receiving a question in his field of expertise. Taking the pad from the nervous kid, he glanced over the displayed part. ¡°Cloud Space Aviation¡¯s electric actuator,¡± he stated after a moment. ¡°Limited number of them created due to the company going bankrupt only a year after the hit the market. Rare, if nothing impressive.¡± The app had classified the somewhat specialized component as a generic actuator. Easy fix, he thought as he updated the information fields, slotting the ¡®new¡¯ component into a few designs where it would fit. ¡°Done.¡± He said, passing the pad back, ¡°anything else?¡± A little wide eyed at seeing a problem solved in moments that had stumped him for a good while, Darius barely managed to recollect himself. ¡°Uh, we¡¯ve had a few more kids show up, sir.¡± In the depths of his mind Erich sighed. It seemed that his little workshop was growing more popular than he had anticipated. ¡°Get them a pad each. I¡¯ll have a few more beds installed in Habitation Block A before the day is out.¡± He said. ¡°If they¡¯re anything like the last lot were I doubt there¡¯s any point in setting them to work today. Get them fed and watered, they can start tomorrow.¡± Will have to increase the water and food quota for the Block accordingly of course, he thought as he mentally tallied the increased cost. Hell, at this rate I may as well open up a Habitation Block B while I¡¯m at it. It would be a pain, but it needed to be done. ¡°Thankyou, sir.¡± Darius said, all but bowing as he took the pad and swept out of the room. Erich watched him go, perplexed as to what the kid was thanking him for. ¡°So that¡¯s how you did it.¡± Myra chimed in from her spot at the wall, vulpine grin splitting her features. ¡°Did what?¡± Erich asked, irritation at the fact that the woman clearly found something amusing. ¡°Oh, nothing.¡± The woman chuckled, ¡°just never took you for a bleeding heart is all.¡± He was actually offended at that. ¡°I¡¯m not a bleeding heart.¡± He stated deadpan. ¡°The full bellies, bushy tails and rosy cheeks on the kids down there say otherwise.¡± The purple Meta sing-songed. ¡°How high are you cranking the heaters in there to keep the chill out?¡± This of course, only incensed him more. ¡°A workforce that is half starved, dehydrated and half frozen is not a very effective workforce.¡± He hissed. He couldn¡¯t have his machines ¨C even ones as pitiful as the Helot ¨C being built by workers that were more focused on their next meal than the wires under their hands. ¡°Cold fingers do not make for nimble fingers.¡± He continued. His anger only seemed to amuse her more, ¡°and the beds? Showers? I thought the building next door was another warehouse, but it seems you¡¯ve made yourself a little orphanage.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°It¡¯s an employee habitation block.¡± He grit out. ¡°I¡¯m not going through all the expense of fattening them up and giving them skills, only to have them freeze to death in the gutter or be press-ganged by one of the groups around here.¡± ¡°Kid seemed awfully clean. Clothes too,¡± Myra continued. ¡°I think I could smell soap.¡± ¡°Have you ever smelled a room full of homeless people?¡± Erich shot back. ¡°It¡¯s not pleasant. Showers are mandatory. Once they have been supplied, clothes are expected to be kept clean using on-site facilities. Failure to do so results in wages withheld. Soap and washing powder is cheap. A workforce that is rife with disease due to unsanitary living conditions is not.¡± Besides, clothing was especially cheap when he bought surplus stock in bulk. Who knew bright orange sold so poorly? ¡°You know what, that Santa Claus comparison is getting more fitting by the moment.¡± Myra grinned. That was the final straw. ¡°Out.¡± Erich grunted, pointing to the door. The woman was still chuckling as she sauntered out.
¡°Did she fall for it?¡± Erich wasn¡¯t surprised that those were Sarah¡¯s first words to him after he accepted her call though his helmet¡¯s comms. ¡°Probably,¡± he admitted as he finished welding an arm onto another Spartoi. ¡°Cameras caught her checking around the warehouse and the habitation block. Talked to a few of the kids. If she got a hint of anything untoward, she made no indication of it before she left.¡± ¡°Good, how are things going-¡± She started to say, only to be cut off by a loud screech from above. ¡°What the hell was that?¡± Her gruff voice asked in the silence that followed. ¡°Probably one of the kids upstairs.¡± He muttered, having barely noticed it. He¡¯d learnt to tune the noise coming from the habitation block above. Which was pretty impressive considering it had to translate though solid concrete to reach his little workshop in the building¡¯s basement. ¡°You did manage to get this sub-level stricken from public record, right?¡± he asked nervously. ¡°Because all this subterfuge is going to mean sweet fuck all if she sees that this place is supposed to have a basement.¡± Sarah, or Bronte he supposed, considering she was currently ¡®in character¡¯ scoffed. ¡°This is Portland Erich.¡± Sarah laughed, an ugly thing considering her throat injury. ¡°Public records don¡¯t exist. Or if they do, it¡¯s only as dossiers on all of the Queen¡¯s rivals.¡± Erich shook his head. Sometimes he wondered how this city functioned at all. Then he remembered. Gratuitous use of Meta-tech and an incredibly low average life expectancy. ¡°Right, how are things going on your end?¡± He asked as he pressed a button on his omni-pad, watching with satisfaction as the Spartoi¡¯s new limb displayed a full range of movement. ¡°Reasonably.¡± Bronte admitted. ¡°The Kings are focusing the bulk of their efforts on the Hounds for now. The worst we¡¯ve had to deal with are a few raiding parties without Meta support.¡± There was a definite use of smugness when she continued, ¡°it seems that despite him not being one of their ¡®big names¡¯ losing Alloy so easily has made them a bit skittish about taking on the Saints. It¡¯s possible they¡¯ll save us for last.¡± Erich had no clue as to whether that was good or bad, so he made non-committal grunt instead of commenting. The strategic stuff was all Bronte¡¯s domain anyway. He just had to focus on the supply side of things. ¡°What about Zigzag, any chance I¡¯m about to get called to the front?¡± He asked, cutting to what he was really concerned about. He couldn¡¯t see it, but he had a feeling that the blonde was shaking her head on the other end of the call. ¡°No, not yet at least. If the Kings start pushing harder that might change, but for now I¡¯ve convinced her that we¡¯re better off with you supplying her forces with your tech rather than clomping around the place in that new suit of yours.¡± Good, because his new suit still wasn¡¯t finished. Too many other projects taking up his time. He¡¯d barely managed to squeeze in the time needed earlier to test out the things new active camouflage cloak. Which worked like a charm, he grinned, a warm feeling running through him as he remembered the sensation of leaping from rooftop to rooftop, practically invisible to the naked eye. The new molecular bonding system on his gloves had worked too, allowing him to scale vertical surfaces with ease. Almost like a spider. All in all, his new suit was shaping up to be a far sleeker beast than his old stompy one. ¡°Good.¡± He muttered as he finally stepped back from the Spartoi to admire his handiwork. Sleek and deadly looking, the Spartoi MK2 was a massive improvement over its predecessor. Painted up in the white and yellow of the Saints, the drone was equipped with a much improved seed AI. Now it would take cover, work in coordination with other units, and was capable of more advanced infantry ¡®skills like fire and movement¡¯. Armed with a Hot-Shot Carbine powered by its own internal generator, the machine was something he could genuinely say he was proud of. Smiling happily at a job well done, he pulled a tarp over it to keep the dust off. Stepping back, he stared admiringly at the sixteen other identical tarp covered shapes that stood in perfect rows at the back of the basement. Then the moment was over, and he resigned himself to sneaking out through the hidden door once more. The things I do to keep my work hidden, he thought tiredly as he activated his suits active camoflouge. At least sneaking out was easier than it used to be with the new cloak. No more creeping around the habitation block in the middle of the night like some kind of¡­ Skinny Santa Claus, an imaginary Myra supplied. ¡°God dammit Myra,¡± Erich huffed under his breath as he started pulling himself up the basement¡¯s ladder. Chapter Forty Two As Erich watched his new minions wrapping his latest gift to the world of organized crime, he couldn¡¯t help but think of an old engineering joke. ¡°The optimist will say that the glass is half-full.¡± He murmured, ¡°the pessimist will say that the glass is half-empty. The engineer will say that the glass is two times bigger than it needs to be.¡± He liked that joke. It said a lot. ¡°Why?¡± A curious voice asked from behind him, nearly making him jump. Given that he was currently encased in a very advanced piece of power armour, it was fortunate he managed to rein in that impulse at the last second, given that said jump might well have sent him a good meter into the air. ¡°No reason.¡± He muttered, turning to give the young girl ¨C who must have been all of ten - the gimlet eye. Of course, given the aforementioned power armour, the young girl could only see the glowing lenses of his eyepiece rather than his stormy expression. ¡°Get back to work,¡± he snapped after a few moments in which the prepubescent simply stood and stared at him. The girl didn¡¯t move, just standing there looking at him curiously. Fortunately, that was the moment one of the older teens noticed the small standoff developing, and rushed over to drag the child away, even as the girl protested about wanting to talk to the ¡®robot¡¯. Erich watched them go, and not for the first time lamented his inability to leave an unattended resource untapped. Should have used machines to build my machines, he groaned. Of course, he knew that was a lie. Machines weren¡¯t even half as adaptable as human beings, which meant the ¡®scavenging¡¯ aspect of his new operation would have invariably ended up as the bottleneck. The ensuing factory would have also required regular maintenance. Maintenance that he would have had to perform himself. Sure, his new peons needed ¡®maintenance¡¯ as well, but being street rats they were accustomed to looking out for themselves and adapting to new circumstances. In the short time they¡¯d spent working under him, he could already see leaders developing and taking over his labour force. Which meant he didn¡¯t have to spend half as much time policing them. No, using the already available and untapped labour pool was the smart move. As much as he would have preferred gleaming rows of machines producing his products over hordes of bright orange grubby looking kids and adolescents. ¡°Are those¡­ kitchen tiles?¡± A second voice chimed in, nearly making him jump for a second time in as many minutes. Reining in his temper for a second time, he turned toward Bronte. ¡°Yes, they are.¡± ¡°Why are you wrapping them in duct tape?¡± Erich resisted the urge to roll his eyes. This was the problem with working with people of a ¡®lower education¡¯. ¡°You asked for me to start producing bullet resistant armour.¡± He made sure to emphasize ¡®resistant¡¯ over ¡®proof¡¯. ¡°And you expect to stop a bullet with interior d¨¦cor?¡± She asked. ¡°I was expecting something more along the lines of ¡®energy shielding¡¯.¡± As she spoke, she gestured to her own hard-light barrier armour system. Obviously, one that was much improved after he had gotten his hands on it. Now it wasn¡¯t liable to short out midway through a firefight. Erich scoffed. Again, another problem with people used to working with Artificers was that they saw a need for the fantastical when the depressingly mundane would serve just as well. Glass is twice as large as it needs to be. Still, he kept his voice low as he responded. ¡°You wanted me to stockpile meta-tech for our other project, that means cutting corners elsewhere.¡± Besides,¡± he said, raising his voice again, ¡°you know what the common calibre of round being flung around this place is these days?¡± Bronte¡¯s eyes twisted in a manner that he knew meant she was scowling under her mask, but she answered anyway. ¡°Nine millimetre, usually out of those piece of shit BP-5¡¯s you see everywhere.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± he nodded sagely. ¡°A ceramic tile with an aluminium backplate and a thick resin coated denim covering is all you need to stop that kind of firepower.¡± It was cheap, it was effective, and it was easy to make in massive quantities. Sure, it wasn¡¯t as effective as a fully-body energy shield ¨C which was why he wouldn¡¯t be swapping out his own any time soon ¨C but for the totally unarmoured thugs that made up the saints it was a massive upgrade in survivability, even if all they invested in was a ballistic vest.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Erich couldn¡¯t help but feel a small flutter of quiet vindication as Bronte¡¯s eyes widened, and her gaze turned from derisive to contemplative as she looked over the rows and rows of his busy minions. ¡°Show me.¡± She said after a moment. Slightly startled, it took the engineer a moment to respond. ¡°It won¡¯t stand up to one of my lasers or your gauntlets.¡± She shook her head, ¡°I brought along a few guards but left them outside. They¡¯re still upgrading, so one of them is still carrying a BP-5.¡± This time it was Erich¡¯s turn to have his eyes widen in surprise. ¡°I thought you snuck away?¡± Despite the fact that all of them could easily talk on the phone, Zigzag was still weary about any of them meeting in person. It seemed the shapeshifter was quite determined to break up the power-bloc that could form between the trio of ¡®metas¡¯ that had just recently entered their organization. Quite wisely, Erich thought, consider what we have planned. Bronte shrugged, ¡°they won¡¯t say anything.¡± In other words, they were already in the woman¡¯s pocket. A little discomforted by how fast she had apparently worked, Erich nonetheless brought up his wrist computer to instruct the Spartoi outside to let the guards in. ¡°Done.¡± He said. ¡°Good, now let¡¯s set up this test.¡± Nodding, Erich gestured for one of the kids carrying a finished vest to come over. ¡°Ah, sir?¡± The vaguely Hispanic looking boy said, no doubt a little nervous about being called out. A state that only deepened as four Saint goons sauntered into the building. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Erich said. ¡°Just pass me that vest and get back to work.¡± ¡°No.¡± Sarah interrupted, even as the boy reached out with the bulky fabric. ¡°Tell him to put it on.¡± Erich paused, his own had mid-movement. ¡°Sorry?¡± He asked, thinking he might have misheard. ¡°I said tell him to put it on.¡± Bronte said, sounding for all the world like she might as well have been discussing the weather. ¡°If we¡¯re going to sell this thing, we need to see that it works. For that I need to have a live trial.¡± A strange hush fell over the warehouse, as dozens of children who had been pretending not to listen froze. Erich was no different. Glancing over, he could see that behind the woman, her guards looked entirely unaffected by what had just been suggested. Hell, they looked bored. Most of them at least, he thought numbly. One of them, an older man, looked more than a little uncomfortable, eyes darting between him, the kid and Sarah. And of course, that¡¯s the one holding the BP-5, he thought. ¡°¡­I don¡¯t think that¡¯s required.¡± He said hesitantly. Bronte quirked any eyebrow at him. ¡°Maybe not, but I¡¯m the one whose come forward and introduced your stuff on the forums. That means my own reputation is attached to your products. If they get a reputation for being unreliable, then I get a reputation for being unreliable, and our little plan goes up in smoke before it even begins.¡± Erich ignored the ping of indignation that at the idea that his product wouldn¡¯t work. ¡°Surely putting it up against the wall and firing a few rounds into it will suffice?¡± He suggested. The blonde woman stared at him. ¡°What¡¯s the big deal, Erich? It¡¯s just a street rat, and you said that the armour will work.¡± It would. He knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt. ¡°Perhaps I just don¡¯t feel comfortable using a child as a test dummy?¡± He shot back, a hit of heat in his voice. More importantly, he also wasn¡¯t exactly comfortable with any of his workforce thinking he was comfortable with using them as a crash test dummy. I¡¯m the one who¡¯s here day in and day out. Surrounded by them and their ample access to power tools. Of course, even if that was true, he knew he¡¯d made a mistake in letting his irritation show, as Bronte¡¯s brow set into a stormy frown. From behind her, her posse of underlings suddenly looked a lot more interested. They were no doubt thinking that their bosses control of her pet Artificer apparently wasn¡¯t as total as she had suggested. ¡°Put the kid in the fucking jacket,¡± Sarah ordered, now unable to backdown if she wanted to save face. Unfortunately, while he didn¡¯t care one iota about face, Erich wasn¡¯t about to endanger himself by hurting his standing with his workforce either. Without much in the way gentleness, he shoved the pale young boy behind himself, making the kid stumble a bit. ¡°No.¡± Silence fell across the room as the two supervillains stood off, broken only by the lightly crackling of electricity that had started arc between Bronte¡¯s gauntleted fingers. Behind her, her goons slowly started to finger their guns, even as the kids looked somewhat torn between stating, fleeing, and bizarrely, fighting. Of course, Erich barely noticed that. He was too busy pondering whether his suit could take the concentrated power of a lightning storm to the face. No, was the resounding answer he got a after a bit of mental math. ¡°I¡¯m not fucking around now, Mechromancer. Put the kid in-¡± The woman¡¯s words were interrupted by the sound of metal feet, as the Spartoi from outside marched in. Their weapons weren¡¯t primed, and they weren¡¯t aiming them, but their sudden presence spoke volumes. ¡°Back off Bronte,¡± Erich said, surprising himself. ¡°This isn¡¯t New Granton.¡± He wasn¡¯t under her thumb anymore. They had an alliance, but he wasn¡¯t her underling. The blonde woman¡¯s eyes darted around the room, at the recently arrived security mechs, and the threat implicit in them. ¡°You dare?¡± Whether Erich dared or not, was forever lost to time as a voice behind her spoke up. ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡± It was the middle aged guard. His hands were off his gun, and high in the air as he ¨C somewhat stupidly in Erich¡¯s opinion ¨C stepped between the feuding villains. ¡°I¡¯ll test the jacket.¡± Of course, the argument was no longer about who was testing the jacket at that point. It had long since escalated to a more ¡®metaphysical¡¯ level. Still, the goons intervention was a welcome opportunity to head off the ensuing conflict before it could begin. ¡°Great.¡± Erich smiled under his mask, snatching the jacket from the kid and pushing him on his way, before tossing it to the goon. ¡°Get it on, and let¡¯s get this over with.¡± Erich pitied the guy, he truly did. In speaking up in what was essentially Erich¡¯s favour, he¡¯d just found himself on Sarah¡¯s shit list. Your sacrifice shall be remembered nameless mook, he thought as he watched Sarah¡¯s gauntlets stop crackling. ¡°Just get it on, Ethan.¡± She muttered, acting as if the earlier conflict was now beneath her. It was a paper thin way of saving face after nearly coming to blows with the Artificer that ¡®completely under her thumb¡¯, but Erich was willing to bet the woman would be able to spin it within moments of leaving the warehouse. Either that or she¡¯ll just kill those goons and blame it on the Kings. He put even odds on either happening. ¡°Alright Ethan,¡± Erich murmured, just tighten up those straps and then hand your gun off to one of your buddies.¡± Preferably one with a decent aim, he thought. The last thing he wanted was to get mook blood all over his warehouse. Chapter Forty Three She''d had made a mistake. Pushed too far too fast without even thinking about it. Erich was not Hard-Light. "Been so wrapped up in plans and schemes, and plans within schemes, that I forgot that." Just making sure that the shapeshifting fuck was where they said they were was a task in and of itself. She could never really know if the person she was talking to was actually one of her own people and not Zigzag in disguise. Which meant her only real window for subterfuge was when Zigzag was out fighting, and she had confirmed reports of a big white and yellow multi-limbed abomination cutting Kings to pieces. So of course, eventually she had let her guard down for just a moment, and she''d fucked up. A single errant demand and the stack of cards she¡¯d built up was in danger of crumbling. All over a fucking street rat... Put simply, she was furious. Fortunately, as the roar of the crowd washed over her, she knew she was in the right place to work it out. "Here she is, the currently undefeated champion! The lady of lightning! The one and only, Bronte!¡± The commentator announced as she stepped into the cage, his voice powering over the cheering and booing of the crowd, as it echoed out through the many speakers that surrounded the dingy arena they found themselves in. A former ice rink if she didn¡¯t miss her mark. Looking around, she could see rows upon rows of cheering Saints on the bleachers behind her. The vast sea of yellow clad gangsters only slightly smaller than the crowd of booing purple clad Kings illuminated by to her front. She would have preferred somewhere a little more upstate, but the Kings had been the one to pick the venue. In the end she supposed it didn¡¯t really matter, the place had the Dome¡¯s seal of approval, and that was what really counted. No one would dumb enough to cross the Dome by starting something in one of their venues. Or at least, she could only wish the Kings were that stupid. ¡°Our Lady of Lightning might have crushed all opposition to date, but will her luck hold true when she comes across her latest opponent?¡± Purple smoke billowed out across from her, ¡°representing the Three Quarter Kings in tonight¡¯s match, is the bane of villains and heroes alike! The great equalizer! I present to you, Anathema!¡± Bronte watched as a young woman strode out of the smoke, looking like some kind of unholy union of paladin and stripper. Of course, Sarah could hardly blame her for that. She didn¡¯t look much better herself. In return for providing the venue and enforcing the neutrality here, the Dome had some conditions of its own for the fights that took place. One of which was the maximum amount of surface area that could be covered by fabric or armour. God forbid the Dome¡¯s viewers be forced to satisfy themselves with a simple match in which two meta-humans beat each other half to death. No, they need to be titillated too. "You might as well give up now and save yourself a beating blondie,¡± the woman called out. ¡°Your pretty powers won¡¯t help you now.¡± And thus, the inevitable trash talk begins. It was a given really. Just as in ancient times, when opposing armies met and champions from each side duelled before battle in the hopes demoralizing the enemy and inspiring their allies, the gangs of Portland did the same. The loyalty of a gangster was a fickle thing, after all. When a soldier from either side come switch loyalties with but a change in wardrobe, destroying the fighting spirit of a gang was usually easier than killing the members in their entirety. After all, is it not the pinnacle of a military victory to capture the assets of an enemy intact rather than outright destroy them? Most gang leaders probably didn¡¯t have as elegant a phrase to describe the phenomenon, but the general sentiment held true across most conflicts. Hence the reason why she was here, about to beat the snot out of this little cunt in front of an audience. ¡°I would say the same, but I¡¯ve no idea what yours even are, given that I¡¯ve never heard of you,¡± She snorted disdainfully. ¡°You will.¡± The woman shot back, unrattled. Then the bell rang, and the time for talk was over. Bronte immediately brought up her gauntlets, ready to blast the woman within an inch of her life. Her last two opponents had tried to zig-zag rather than tank her lightning like the first bruiser did. It hadn¡¯t helped them, but Sarah was still surprised when her opponent refused to do the same. Instead, the woman charged straight at her, legs pumping as fast as they could. Bronte simply let rip with her powers, blasting the easy target with the concentrated power of an electrical storm, afterimages searing across her retina as she did. Those after images tended to blind her when she wasn¡¯t wearing a polarized helmet, and this time was no exception. Which was why, when an arm batter aside her own, and a fist slammed into a stomach, she was utterly unprepared. Blinking away tears and gasping for breath, she back peddled furiously, ignoring the pain in her stomach as she blinked rapidly to clear her vision. Although not before she took another half dozen punches in quick succession.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°I told you your cheap trick wouldn¡¯t work.¡± The woman gloated as she continued to lay into the blonde, thought not before Sarah managed to grab a wrist victoriously. Power Nullifier, Sarah realized as she found herself totally incapable of summoning up even a spark of electricity. Instead, she dropped to her knees as her assailant hit her with a powerful hook, continuing her relentless assault. Her plan obviously being to keep hounding the electricity user, to give her no opening in which to respond. Sarah lurched forwards, gripping the other woman around the waist. ¡°Look at you!¡± Anathema just laughed, unmoved as she continued to rain down more blows, Sarah hissing as she caught one to the head, leaving a deep cut that bled profusely, further clouding her vision. ¡°You¡¯re all the same. So confident in your abilities that your powerless without them. You¡¯re nothing without them!¡± Of course, that was the moment, Sarah pulled her leg out from under her, sending them both to the ground. ¡°How¡¯s this for nothing, bitch.¡± The blonde grinned through bloody teeth, as she wrapped herself around the leg, and using the woman¡¯s own body as leverage, twisted. Cries of dismay, excitement and disgust echoed in time with the damp crack Anathema¡¯s knee popping out of place, followed moments later by a guttural scream of pain. A scream of pain that was drowned out the cries of the crowd and the chatter of the commentator. Sarah casually clambered to her feet, wiping blood from her eye, even as she spat a wad of bloodied phlegm into the dirt below. ¡°I don¡¯t know why you assumed I was defenseless without my power?¡± She asked the woman who cradled her leg as she sobbed in pain. If anything, the opposite was true. Anathema might have caught her off guard with that first punch, but everything thereafter had just been wild swinging. If anyone was using their ability as a crutch, it had been the brunette. Seeing the Dome¡¯s medical staff were already hurrying over with a stretcher, the fight clearly over, Sarah took the opportunity to get one last stomp in. ¡°My dad was Hard-Light bitch. I¡¯ve known how to fight since I was twelve years old.¡± She muttered, before slamming her foot into the woman¡¯s floating ribs, grinning with satisfaction as she felt something give with a crack. Turning back to the Saints - ignoring the Dome representative who was frowning at her after that last kick - she raised both her arms in triumph. The roar she received in return was electrifying.
¡°How many of them do you think will be swayed when the chips start falling?¡± Sarah asked as she pressed an icepack to her head. The man she was looking at shrugged as he counted out the night¡¯s winnings, prompting her to sigh in disgust, before taking a swig of her drink. Stephan was a poor replacement for Grey. He wasn¡¯t half as competent as the diminutive Filipino woman had been, as an administrator or a combatant. The man was popular amongst the rank and file though, and as such she had moved to secure his loyalties early. Unfortunately for her, the price of said loyalty was a promised position as her second when all was said and done. In different circumstances she might have been leery of making that promise, but given that neither Erich or Gravity would want it, it hadn¡¯t been beyond her means to provide. The TV blaring away in the corner wasn¡¯t doing her headache any favours, but she knew better than to tell the man watching it to stop. As if prompted by her eyes laying upon him, the masked figure spoke up, a distinct reverb distorting his voice. ¡°Send them out girl.¡± He said, eyes still on the television, where the latest stream from the Death Race blared. ¡°We need to talk.¡± A few of the Saints present in the room raised an eyebrow at the man¡¯s disrespectful tone, and she had to raise a hand to stop a few of them from reaching for their guns. Portlanders, she thought derisively as she gestured for the gang members to clear out. It seemed that when it came to people on the West Coast, violence was their first, third and last solution to any given problem. It¡¯s certainly not the criminal wonderland I imagined as a kid, she sighed. She wasn¡¯t even in control of the organization yet, and she already felt like she juggling a herd of cats. It said a lot about the types of personalities she was dealing with that Erich wasn¡¯t the most prickly one of the bunch. ¡°Alright, they¡¯re gone.¡± She murmured, ¡°you can take that ridiculous costume off.¡± The figure scoffed, but did as she asked, pulling off the helmet to reveal the familiar features of her father. A little older looking, and with a few more scars, but undeniably the same Hard-Light she¡¯d grown up in fear and awe of. Then again, he¡¯s not the only one sporting a few more scars, is he? She thought with a hint of resentment. ¡°Disrespectful brat.¡± The man muttered. ¡°Lazy old man,¡± she shot back. ¡°Would it kill you to help out even a little in setting up your future organization?¡± The man scoffed, ¡°and have the Queen discover I¡¯m in her city before we¡¯re ready?¡± He shook his head. ¡°Both our heads would be on pikes before the day was out.¡± ¡°You could be subtle,¡± she suggested. The older supervillain shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t do subtle.¡± He point a thumb over his shoulder. ¡°Something me and your boytoy have in common.¡± Sarah glanced over to see a racer tearing around the track, to the furious excitement of commentators and fans alike. ¡°Overdrive,¡± she scowled, recalling the name of the Artificer that Erich was receiving his parts from. And hadn¡¯t that been a¡­ surprise. ¡°Didn¡¯t expect him to find a supplier on his own, did you?¡± The old man chuckled. No. She hadn¡¯t. A massive oversight in retrospect. Because of which, her plan to ¡®locate a supply of Artificer parts herself¡¯, thereby making Erich dependent on her for his work had died before it could even begin. And he would have been dependent on me, she thought. The man was practically driving himself up the walls with out any tech of consequence to play with. She¡¯d set him to the task of finding an Artificer to try and drive home how difficult it was. Which would have made her own success all the more impressive. And with me as his sole supplier of parts, he would never have thought of acting out like he did today. The thought still burned her. ¡°How¡¯s your sister doing?¡± Her father asked. The question served only to irritate the blonde further. ¡°Same as the last time you asked. Bumming about the place and trying to avoid doing any actual work. I think she might have gotten another fling or something. Damn near constantly chatting with someone.¡± And wouldn''t Sarah kill to know just who. It could be a fling like she said, or it could be something significantly more dangerous. She would have already asked Erich to bug the pad if she hadn''t been worried about giving him ideas. Because then he might get it into his head to bug mine. And that would end well for no one. The old man frowned at her statement, but his interest returned to the screen as Overdrive passed the finish line in first place. ¡°Mechromancer will need to visit her again if he wants her to survive.¡± He pointed out. ¡°Her opponents are already adapting to the changes he helped her implement. At this rate she will be eliminated before she wins her freedom.¡± Sarah grinned at that. The redheaded skank was middle of the road as far as talent went. She had only gotten as far as she had before Erich showed up due to luck and sheer roach like tenacity. At this stage in the game she was so outclassed by the competition that it was laughable. Which presents an opportunity for me to alleviate my current issue. ¡°Don¡¯t worry dad, I¡¯ll see to it that it¡¯s taken care of.¡± She said. ¡°Now why don¡¯t you show me what you¡¯ve managed to get working since I last saw you.¡± The man smiled, all thoughts of anything else forgotten as he took the opportunity to speak of his true passion. Chapter Forty Four It was bound to happen eventually. The only thing that surprises me is how long it took, Darius thought as he guided a girl who was now short a few fingers, and a good chunk of her hand, up to the Mechromancer¡¯s office. Not that any of the kids called him that. To them, he was just the boss. ¡°He¡¯s going to kick me out,¡± the girl muttered through gritted teeth. Impressive pain tolerance, he thought. Still, impressed or not, Darius had no soothing words to give her. Even if he did, he doubted she would have accepted them. The Boss was a strange guy ¨C no two ways about it ¨C but Darius liked to think he had a rough handle on his personality by now. A very rough understanding, but it was enough to tell him that the Boss would have no use for a crippled orphan. If they couldn¡¯t work, then the Boss had no use for them. He wasn¡¯t subtle about it either. He¡¯d already kicked out a few kids who thought they could take advantage of a ¡®free ride¡¯. There¡¯d been no warnings given or anything like that, just two of the ¡®buckets¡¯ striding onto the workshop floor and bodily dragging the offenders out into the street. Which for the girl standing next to him was a death sentence, and they both knew it. Especially in the current weather. Sighing at the misfortune of it all, he knocked on the door to the man¡¯s office. Part of him hoped the Boss wasn¡¯t in, while the other just wanted to put the whole thing behind him. His deliberations on the subject became moot though, when a command to come in translated through the door. ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with,¡± the girl next to him muttered as she shouldered her way in. Resigned, Darius followed her. The inside of the supervillain¡¯s office was just as plain as it always was. No trophies. No decorations. Just whatever project the man was working on at the time, a desk, and the ever-present Bucket standing guard at the back. It was another oddity about the man, amongst dozens of others. Darius had on occasion had cause to meet with a few block leaders from the local gangs in their personal quarters ¨C invariably when he had a bit of valuable tech to trade ¨C and they always went out of their way to show off whatever opulence they had available to them. Usually to the point of gaudiness, he admitted privately. The Boss was different. Despite being the most personally powerful person the youth had ever met, he seemed to have no use for decoration. Actively disdained it actually. Perhaps you don¡¯t need to show off when you reach a certain level, Darius wondered. ¡°What?¡± The man asked, not even turning away from whatever he was working on. Some kind of flying drone if the rotors are any indication. ¡°There¡¯s been an accident,¡± Darius stated, knowing from experience that it was better to get straight to the point with the man. That got his attention. ¡°An accident? Was anything damaged!? How did- Oh.¡± The man trailed off as he noticed the girl standing across from him. ¡°Alright, why is there a young woman dripping blood onto my floor?¡±This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Darius wasn¡¯t offended by the lack of use of a name. He doubted the guy even knew it, and it wasn¡¯t like he was derisive about it. It beat the usual nicknames he received from people in power. Gutter-trash, human debris, street-rat¡­ ¡°She¡¯s the one that accident occurred to, sir.¡± ¡°Just her?¡± The man continued, his metal mask hiding whatever expression he might be wearing from view. ¡°None of the machines or materials were damaged?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m the only one that was crippled.¡± The girl spat before Darius could speak, sending a shiver up the boy¡¯s spine as he waited for the man¡¯s violent response. None was forthcoming though. ¡°I doubt that, because at the very least, something was contaminated by biological matter.¡± Those strange eye lenses turned back to him. ¡°I trust whatever it was has been cleaned?¡± Feeling a little green as he remembered the bloody scene he had happened upon downstairs, Darius still nodded. ¡°I set someone to the task before I brought her up.¡± Whether they¡¯d actually done the grizzly task remained to be seen, but he figured he didn¡¯t need to mention that. ¡°Good. Good.¡± The Boss nodded, before turning his gaze back to the girl, who stared back in defiance mixed with fear and pain. ¡°Tell me? Why weren¡¯t you wearing the personal protective equipment I provided?¡± ¡°I was.¡± The girl lied. No one wore the gloves or the eyepieces. They were thick, cumbersome and uncomfortable. More than that, they weren¡¯t ¡®cool¡¯. A fairly ridiculous concept in retrospect, but one had to remember that many of these kids had survived on the streets for years. Danger was nothing new to them, and so they ignored the equipment provided, safe in the knowledge that they would be fine ¡®if they were careful¡¯. A thought process that Darius was not immune to, as he discretely slipped his ¡®unprotected¡¯ hands behind his back. ¡°I doubt that.¡± The man answered. ¡°You might have lost one glove in the accident I concede, but I doubt you removed the other one with a crippled hand.¡± The girl had nothing to say to that, so she stood in silent anger, blood still dripping onto the floor as she clutched the wound with her good hand. ¡°I thought so.¡± The man muttered, more to himself than anyone else. ¡°Still, this does present an opportunity.¡± ¡°Sir?¡± Darius asked as the man strode over to his desk and started rummaging through the drawers. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re still here?¡± The supervillain said as he turned back around. ¡°You¡¯re dismissed. Head back to work. The girl will be fine with me.¡± ¡°Natasha.¡± The girl in question stated, a little of her earlier resentment giving way to puzzlement at not being promptly thrown out. Though whether that¡¯s for the better or not, remains to be seen. Darius thought, mind trying desperately not to jump to the worst conclusions. Still, it was out of his hands now. With a final goodbye, that the supervillain evidently failed to hear, Darius strode out; leaving the nervous young woman and the Artificer behind. Out of my hands, Darius thought as he strode down the stairs to the workshop.
Ethan kept a wary ear out as he squatted in a rundown public restroom. Now if only I wasn¡¯t too terrified to shit, he thought tiredly. His short-lived tenure as a member of Bronte¡¯s rapidly forming inner circle had reached its end. Apparently, the woman did not take kindly to people undercutting her. Who knew? Which was why he had spent the last few days jumping at every errant click as he waited for his inevitable accident to occur. Which wouldn¡¯t be hard, given the current gang war. Just walking down the street at the wrong time of day was just begging to have an ¡®accident¡¯ these days. At least I''ve still got the jacket, he thought. Hurt like a motherfucker, but it did stop the bullet. He had for a brief moment considered taking what he knew to Zigzag ¨C what precious little there was. Of course, he had ruled that out within moments of thinking it up. The shapeshifter was probably already well aware of what was going on in the Saints, but much like him there wasn¡¯t a ton they could do about it. With the Kings finally starting to bring their numbers to bear, the man/woman had their hands full just keeping the gang together. He imagined their plan was to try and win the war with the Kings, and then use the ensuing swell of support to dismantle Bronte¡¯s faction. Or it could be something entirely different, he didn¡¯t have a clue. He usually tried his best not to get involved with the political crap. He¡¯d only gotten involved with Bronte because it was known that an association with her provided discounts at a certain store. Sure, he had his laser gun now, but it wouldn¡¯t do him much good if Bronte decided she wanted him gone. Or would it? He thought as an idea occurred to him. Their was another ¡®faction¡¯ forming inside the Saints, albeit it was only referred to as a joke. ¡°The ¡®Orange Rats¡¯.¡± Everyone knew they worked for Mechromancer, and that meant they were off limits. To both sides of the rapidly growing divide within the gang. After all, they were the ones helping to provide the growing flow of weapons into Erich¡¯s Armaments, and without those they were all fucked. ¡°Untouchable.¡± He murmured, the beginnings of a plan forming. Rapidly pulling out his phone, he started to pull up a familiar webpage. Chapter Forty Five Erich was not perfect. It pained him to admit it within the privacy of his own head, and he¡¯d never admit it aloud. Which made¡­ apologizing a difficult prospect. ¡°Quit sulking.¡± So he didn¡¯t even bother. The girl ¨C Natasha, he reiterated within his own head ¨C turned to glare at him. ¡°You experimented on me.¡± He shrugged as they strode down the street towards his shop, two MK1 spartoi drones to the front, as well as a good dozen helots forming a ring around them. ¡°I was attempting to return your fingers to you,¡± he said as pedestrians cleared a path before him. Those who weren¡¯t quite quick enough about it getting jabbed by a drone for their trouble. ¡°You chopped them off again!¡± The girl shouted, bringing up a still malformed hand, the flesh pink and raw from where the cybernetics had been removed. ¡°You said they weren¡¯t as nimble,¡± he said reasonably. ¡°So I removed them in preparation for the installation of an improved model.¡± Admittedly, he supposed he could have been a tad more delicate about it. ¡°You used a cleaver!¡± The girl whirled on him, any fear she might have once had momentarily forgotten after the events of the last few hours. ¡°Now I¡¯ve got less hand than I had when I started.¡± Well he could hardly be faulted for that. He needed fresh nerves, rather than the ones he had already damaged in the first round of cybernetics. He had already explained that, but he doubted the girl wanted to hear it for a third time. ¡°I used anaesthetic this time,¡± he pointed out. Admittedly that had been more to do with his desire to avoid the same squirming that had occurred during the cybernetics initial installation. ¡°Most people would have used anaesthetic the first time!¡± Given the fact that he was fully helmeted, Erich was forced to incline his head ¨C in as sceptical manner as was capable ¨C in the direction of an alley, where a lady of the evening was loudly performing fellatio on a drugged out Saint. ¡°Ok, maybe not here,¡± the girl admitted. ¡°But in the rest of the world they would.¡± Not for the first time, Erich cursed his decision to install a television with the Habitation Block. It had seemed an ideal way to quieten down the rambunctious employees within, allowing him to work on his secret project in peace. It hadn¡¯t worked, as now he had to listen to them all argue about which channel to watch. More importantly it was giving them all strange ideas like paid vacation and safe working environments. ¡°I got it healed didn¡¯t I?¡± He said, reffering to their latest trip to Portland¡¯s resident meta-healer. ¡°At the cost of two Helots, I might add.¡± Natasha was unconvinced. ¡°You don¡¯t even like the Helots, you practically give them away. You also specifically told her not to heal me all the way.¡± Why oh why did he get the mouthiest urchin of the bunch? ¡°I told you. I need the wound to be fresh. If she healed you all the way then the scar tissue might get in the way of the nerve connections.¡± ¡°Why not just have her grow my fingers back?¡± Peh, and get nothing out of this little exercise? Not a chance. ¡°She can¡¯t regrow stuff, she just accelerates the body¡¯s natural healing, and perhaps gives it a little boost.¡± The girl looked like she wanted to argue, but his words took the wind out of her sales. They walked in silence for a few more minutes before she spoke again. ¡°Look, just¡­ can you promise you aren¡¯t going to get rid of me?¡± Erich cocked his head ¨C a habit he¡¯d been forced to pick up in lieue of raising any eyebrow given his now almost constantly helmet clad status. ¡°You know, once you figure out how to make your robot fingers, or whatever?¡± Gone was the mouthy little spitfire from before, in her place was just a girl; one who was in pain, afraid, and terrified of losing the only place she could tentatively have called a home in a very long time. Of course, Erich being Erich, that all flew straight over his head. So when he answered, it was with his customary totally frank honesty. ¡°Get rid of you? Why the hell would I do that?¡± The whole reason he¡¯d starting experimenting with cybernetics had been to ensure he could maintain his workforce. Natasha might have been the first big accident, but he seriously doubted she would be the last. He was investing time and energy into cultivating a skilled workforce, one that would eventually be more flexible than a mechanical assembly line ever could. He wasn¡¯t about let something like a few missing hands, eyes or feet get in the way of that.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Once you¡¯re operational once more, I fully expect you to get back to work,¡± he instructed. ¡°And make no mistake, as punishment for failing to conform to work safety standards, the expense of what ever these machines cost will be deducted from your pay.¡± In instalments. As a percentage of total pay proportionate to an amount above the minimum wage. Which meant it would take forever and a day to repay. Unfortunate, but unavoidable. He wasn¡¯t about to invest time and effort into this girl just to bury her in debt until she starved to death. No, he fully intended to get maximum use from all his employees. He might have expected some complaint at that, but none was forthcoming. ¡°Do you have something in your eye?¡± He asked as the silence dragged on. That seemed to shake the girl out of her strange sudden stillness, as she shook her head, rapidly rubbing her watery eyes with one malformed hand. ¡°Yeah.¡± She sniffed, ¡°some dust or something. Dweeb.¡± The last word was added almost as an afterthought, but Erich barely heard it. He was too focused on something else. There are a lot of floating particulates in the air, he admitted. Perhaps I should invest in outdoor eye protection for the scavengers? Prevention was usually cheaper than repairs, after all, and goggles were certainly cheaper than cybernetic eyes. Something to consider at least, the supervillain thought as he strode down the street, young woman dogging his heels.
Gravity damn near jumped as her Omni pad chimed an incoming message. ¡°You ok, Grav?¡± Mark, one of her nominal ¡®underlings¡¯ asked as he looked up from his meal. The guy clearly had a crush on her, and under other circumstances she might have found it cute. Might have taken him for a roll in the hay, if nothing else. Unfortunately for him, she had other things on her mind. ¡°Fine,¡± she said, getting herself back under control as she picked up the pad. ¡°Still just a bit jumpy from earlier.¡± The Saint sent her an understanding look. ¡°Yeah, didn¡¯t expect Manacle to show up today, but hey, you handled him like a champ.¡± Gravity sent him a wry look in turn. ¡°More like the pyromaniac went looking for easier targets after he saw me.¡± Easier targets he had found, if the chatter currently blowing up their radios was any indication. The King had blown through a checkpoint and burned down two of the Saints drug dens before reinforcements showed up to deal with him. At which point he¡¯d fled, leaving a dozen dead saints, along with most of the buildings patrons, dead. It was a pretty typical tactic. Make any venue associated with the Saints seem unsafe so that their customers go elsewhere. ¡°Anyway, I need to answer this, so¡­¡± It took the gangster a few seconds, but he got the hint. ¡°Oh, It¡¯s private.¡± He stood up to leave, ¡°boyfriend or something?¡± He tried to sound nonchalant, but the worry in his voice was totally obvious to anyone watching. Like the good half dozen of his compatriots scattered about the little caf¨¦ they had appropriated for lunch. ¡°Something like that,¡± Gravity smiled, taking the opportunity to nip the guy¡¯s little crush in the bud, while also getting rid of him. ¡°Ah, I¡¯ll- I¡¯ll just go then,¡± the guy murmured as he turned to leave, obviously crushed. Gravity watched him go with a pang of sympathy. Mark was an ok guy. For a criminal, her mind supplied needlessly. Of course, she knew that wasn¡¯t fair. The guy had been born and raised on the West Coast, and as she was quickly learning, the idea of criminality didn¡¯t really exist as a classification out here. It was also more than a little hypocritical, given that she was wearing the exact same uniform. Which was why when she opened the message, she couldn¡¯t help the pang of disappointment ¨C and relief ¨C that ran through her when she saw it wasn¡¯t from who she thought it was. Still, the content of the message did make her smile a bit. ¡°Oh, someone¡¯s going to pay for this,¡± Gravity said as she looked at the link Myra had just sent her. Topic: Myra¡¯s Munitions! (Not Erich¡¯s Armaments, or Gravity¡¯s Guns, as previously posted.) In: Associated Vendors Purple_Prowler (Original Poster) (Member) (Meta) (Block Captain) Posted On August 16th 2019: Greeting fellow fuckups, As many of you may have noticed, the Mechromancer¡¯s store has gotten a little upgrade: https://imgur.com/Q8NP2Pk Real subtle, Gravity though as she looked over the new display board for Erich¡¯s store. The purple woman had to have gone behind the man¡¯s back to get it installed, because she couldn¡¯t ever see Erich commissioning a store front sized display of Myra, with cleavage on clear display, with the words ¡®Myra¡¯s Munitions¡¯ daubed across them in bright white paint. Gotta admit, she¡¯s looking good though, Gravity thought as her eyes roamed appreciatively over the woman¡¯s assets. Purple_Prowler (Original Poster) (Member) (Meta) (Block Captain) Posted On August 16th 2019: With this, I can officially say that Erich¡¯s Armaments has a new, much better name. Also, given the fact that our resident Queen of Lightning and the Mechromancer are having a bit of a tiff right now, I¡¯ve taken it upon myself to continue updating the forums with his latest innovations in killy goodness. The ¡®Aegis¡¯ M1 Bullet Resistant Vest Having recently completed human tests (Don¡¯t ask), the Aegis is now ready for sale. Capable of resisting rounds of a calibre up to nine-millimetre, the Aegis is perfect for the squishy gangster on the go (We can¡¯t all be as beautiful or as resistant to small arms fire as I). Yeah, it stops bullets and its cheap. What more do you want? Bronte (Member) (Meta) (Block Captain) Posted On August 16th 2019: We will be having words, Prowler. BeaverFur (Member) (Meta) (Unit Leader) Replied on August 6th 2019: @Bronte: Yeah, I¡¯m getting to stay the hell away from that. So, completely avoiding that shit storm, let¡¯s talk armour. It¡¯ll stop a bullet alright, what it wont stop is repeated impacts to the same general area. Things also start getting dicey the moment it takes a hit from anything beyond nine-millimetre. Still, considering the price, I¡¯m recommending anyone who can get one, does. StreetMook (Member) Replied on August 16th 2019: It¡¯s heavy as shit. E_Thankyou (Member) Replied on August 16th 2019: Can personally attest to this thing working. That¡¯s all I¡¯m willing to say at this point. @Purple_Prowler: P.S. Could I speak to the Mechromancer at some point? Agriope (Member) (Moderator) Replied on August 16th 2019: @StreetMook: It also stops your insides from becoming your outsides. Suck it up princess. Waiting4Singularity (Member) Replied on August 16th 2019: As much as I hate to agree with him, StreetMook kind of has a point. You won¡¯t feel it at first, but you¡¯re going to be suffering after wearing it all day. Particularly our more¡­ feminine members. FlowerPower (Member) Replied on August 17th 2019: @Waiting4Singularity: Sexism! Waiting4Singularity (Member) Replied on August 17th 2019: @FlowerPower: No, it¡¯s biology. FlowerPower (Member) Replied on August 17th 2019: @Waiting4Singularity: Yeah, I¡¯m just fucking with you. Put the damn thing on today and felt like I was wearing a concrete vest. Crushed my poor ¡®girls¡¯ too. Still, if it can keep me from getting ventilated, I¡¯m ready to deal with a little discomfort. StreetMook (Member) Replied on August 17th 2019: @FlowerPower: Kinky. Chapter Forty Six ¡°Is this guy ever going to show up, or what?¡± Jack asked as he took another drag of his cigarette. ¡°I¡¯m freezing my balls off out here.¡± Mickey shrugged as he rubbed his hands together in his coat. ¡°To be honest, I¡¯d be happy to wait here all night if it meant not having to tangle with the Manacle.¡± Around him a few of his fellow Saints scoffed - and he swore he heard a quiet utterance of ¡®pussy¡¯ ¨C but looking over at Jack, he could see his old friend nodding as he conceded his point. No one who had ever tangled with Manacle was ever in a hurry to do it again. He might not have had the highest kill count amongst the seven Metas who made up the King¡¯s roster, but he more than made up for it with the gratuitous nature of his kills. ¡°Shit, you put it like that and I might be willing to trade a testicle or two if I got to sit out of the fight.¡± Not that either of the men were expecting that to happen. When a gang war started, most Metas started bouncing between safe houses so as to avoid being taken out by a surprise attack. There were exceptions of course. Bruisers were usually tough enough that any attempt to take them out with a quick ambush was doomed to failure, and Artificers tended to bunker up with whatever mechanical monstrosities they had created. Mechromancer being a prime example of that, Mickey thought as his mind turned to the latest addition to the Saints. Fortunately, or unfortunately for the dozen gangsters that were now freezing their asses off in the cramped confines of the van, Manacle was neither. Which meant that when one of their contacts called in the pyromancer¡¯s probable location, Zigzag was obligated to take the opportunity to try and take him out. Fortunately for them, the shapeshifter wasn¡¯t expecting five disguised Saints in a beat up van to take on a metahuman and whatever cronies he had with him. Unfortunately for them, all of Zigzags usual choices for an operation like this were all already engaged, or unavailable. So they were calling in someone none of them had met before, but they had all heard a lot about. ¡°Mechromancer.¡± Jack called out, perking up as he pointed out the van pulling up across from them. Sure enough, the make and model matched the one the reclusive Artificer said he¡¯d be using. ¡°Looks like he brought friends too,¡± Mickey said as the cloaked figure clambered out and opened the back door, allowing a horde of rattily clad figures to clamber out. Something was off about them, but he couldn¡¯t quite put his finger on it. ¡°Think they¡¯re the guys we¡¯re always hearing about?¡± Jack asked, interrupting his thoughts. ¡°The Orange Rats, or something?¡± ¡°I heard they were all little kids.¡± A voice from the back pointed out. Well those certainly aren¡¯t kids, Mickey mused as he watched the group line up in a surprisingly orderly manner on the sidewalk. The figures were all dressed in purple, much like he and the group in his van were, so they drew little in the way of attention from passers-by. Quite the opposite. Most pedestrians went out of their way not to look at them, slinking past with lowered heads. Kings ain¡¯t had this territory long, but they¡¯ve already established a reputation with the locals. And it clearly wasn¡¯t a good one. Which wasn¡¯t too surprising. Even amongst the criminal factions that made up the West Coast, the kings were considered scum only a bare step above the Hounds. Still, it makes our lives easier, Mickey thought as he and the rest of the disguised Saints clambered out. ¡°You assholes stay here and out of sight,¡± he instructed to the crew in the cabin behind him. ¡°Me and Jack are gonna go talk to him.¡± He heard a mild smattering of complaints from his underlings at the prospect of more time in the tight confines of the back of the van, but he ignored it as he clambered out.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Mechromancer,¡± Mickey called out as he jogged over. ¡°Glad you could make it.¡± It never hurt to be a little sycophantic when it came to Metas ¨C especially ones you knew almost nothing about. Which was a decision he was glad for when the Artificer¡¯s inhuman mask turned in his direction. ¡°Please,¡± the guy¡¯s artificially distorted voice began, ¡°shout my name a little louder. I don¡¯t think they heard you in Atlanta.¡± This asshole¡­ ¡°Sorry sir, Mickey¡¯s just a little nervous is all.¡± Jack piped in, jabbing him in the back before he said something stupid in response. A move he was quickly thankful for as three tentacle like arms rose from within the supervillain¡¯s cloak, each tipped with a deadly looking weapon that he couldn¡¯t even begin to identify. ¡°Y-yeah, just a little nervous,¡± he choked out, glancing at the deadly looking apparatus hovering over the villain¡¯s back. It was only as the man turned away that the gangster realized that none of the guys the Artificer had brought had moved during their little conversation. They stood utterly stock still. Inhumanly so. Now for all that Mickey wasn¡¯t classically educated, and had something of a temper, he wasn¡¯t stupid. ¡°Those aren¡¯t Helots,¡± Jack said, unknowingly echoing his own thoughts as he looked over the rows of raggedly dressed drones. ¡°Spartois.¡± An older man walked up behind them, dressed as a King like they were. For just a moment Mickey feared they might have been rumbled, but that panic passed as he cottoned on to what the guy said. ¡°Spart-us?¡± he asked. The man nodded. ¡°Close, Spartois. Apparently they¡¯re named after a Greek myth about men being born from dragons teeth or something like that. Might have been something else. Should really remember it though, god knows the kids at the workshop must have told me that story a good half dozen times. Kids are damn near obsessed with the things.¡± ¡°Ethan,¡± Jack said, a smile breaking out over his face as he shook the man¡¯s hand. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were hanging out with the Mechromancer. Last I heard you were rubbing shoulders with Bronte¡¯s¡­ crowd.¡± The man had clearly caught himself from saying ¡®faction¡¯ at the last second. Mickey didn¡¯t know why he bothered. Everyone knew about the division forming within the Saints. It was only the ever-present threat of the Kings that was keeping it from turning into actual violence as Zigzag and Bronte jockeyed for position. Neither of the two meta humans could afford to do away with the other while the Kings were still a threat, but everyone knew that the second that was no longer the case someone¡¯s head was going to roll. Of course, he and Jack were part of the rapidly dwindling third faction who wanted nothing to do with the brewing civil war. Though how long we¡¯ll be able to stay that way remains to be seen. He knew he was already receiving solicitations - and a few subtle threats - from proponents on each side, and he doubted Jack¡¯s situation was any different. ¡°Yeah, well things didn¡¯t quite work out with her,¡± Ethan shrugged, ¡°so I¡¯m working with the Boss over there. Guy¡¯s made me his¡­ I don¡¯t know, liaison?¡± The guy gestured over to where the Artificer was crouched over a box, muttering to himself as he fiddled with a device who¡¯s function Mickey couldn¡¯t even begin to guess. Yeah, I could see why he might need one. ¡°Didn¡¯t work out?¡± Jack echoed, returning the conversation back to the original topic. ¡°I thought¡­ I thought he was, you know, on Bronte¡¯s side.¡± Finally given up pretending, huh? Mickey smiled humourlessly. Still, what Jack was saying was true. That was the scuttlebutt Mickey had heard too. Bronte tried to hide it, but a few people claimed to have seen her visiting the Artificer¡¯s down workshop on Fourth. Though it would be more accurate to say that his workshop is Fourth these days. From what he¡¯d heard, swarms of Helot drones had taken over the entire street, patrolling the place and only allowing street rats ferrying scrap in or out. Once upon a time those kids might have been easy pickings for whichever particular scumbag might have wanted something from them. Nowadays everyone knew that a kid in orange was off limits unless they wanted to draw the attention of the drones, whatever scrap they were carrying usually not worth the effort of dealing with the inevitable metallic reprisal that accompanied acquiring it. Last he¡¯d heard, the kids were calling themselves the Block Party. No idea why though. ¡°Again, sort of.¡± Ethan shrugged. ¡°Mechromancer and her¡­ well, I don¡¯t know much I should say.¡± Mickey rolled his eyes, ¡°stop dithering like a maid and spit it out already.¡± Ethan glanced at him, before retuning his eyes to Jack. ¡°Look, it¡¯s complicated. I¡¯ll say this though, if you want to stay out of the pissing match between Bronte and Zigzag, I think Mechromancer¡¯s the best bet. The guy can be a bit of an ass, but he takes care of his people. I can swear to that.¡± The look in the guy¡¯s eyes as he spoke made Jack believe him, or at least, believe that they guy believed in what he was saying. Jack clearly did too, as he leaned forward eagerly. ¡°Do you think he might be looking for more guys?¡± Whatever Ethan might have said in response was lost to time though as the Mechromancer¡¯s distorted voice cut through the air. ¡°Spit, get out here,¡± the villain instructed. ¡°I¡¯m done mapping the building.¡± If he hadn¡¯t been keeping a careful eye out, Mickey might have missed the way Ethan¡¯s face twitched slightly into a frown as the villain spoke. He had just a moment to wonder why, before another figure appeared from the back of Mechromancer¡¯s van. A kid in a dishevelled looking purple sweater. The outfit was baggy and hung off the kid¡¯s thin frame, but even so, Mickey could see a faint hint of orange poking out from under the collar. One of the Block Party. ¡°Alright Spit, show me what you can do,¡± the Artificer said, passing off the Omni-pad in his hands. Chapter Forty Seven
Spit¡¯s birth name was Cassandra, but everyone called her Spit on account of inability to keep herself from drooling. Whether it was a birth defect or a brain injury from a less than stellar childhood, she honestly didn¡¯t know. Either way, Spit wasn¡¯t anyone special. The daughter of a whore and some asshole she¡¯d never met. She¡¯d ended up an orphan after her mother had ended up the collateral damage in a gang shootout. She¡¯d spent the last few years on the streets on the streets, scavenging to get by, and like most other kids in her situation, she¡¯d leapt at the chance to work for the Mechromancer. Safety. Hot food. Beds. Even Pay. She¡¯d been bullied of course. Kids. Little oversight. Her unfortunate habit of drooling. Spit wasn¡¯t a name she¡¯d been given affectionately, even if she thought of it as her name even within her own head. Still despite all that, it had still all seemed too good to be true, and like a lot of the older and more experienced kids, she¡¯d been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Which was why when a brand-new app appeared on everyone¡¯s Omni-pads, she¡¯d been suspicious. Especially when said app turned out to be a game. She should have known something was up. Especially when high scores started having rewards attached. Higher pay. Better food. Priority use of the TV. More shower time. Still, it had been enough to get her and most of the sceptics on board with odd little strategy game. Not that they¡¯d needed much persuasion; the thing was all the rage amongst the electronic deprived kids of the Block Party. As soon as work hours were over, it seemed to be all some kids seemed to think about. Challenging the randomly generated scenarios, or each other until the mandatory lights out. She¡¯d been good at it. Even with so few people willing to play with or against the ¡®dribbling idiot¡¯ she¡¯d managed to rack up a sizeable number of rewards by beating the computer. Which had invited envy of course, a few kids trying to steal her rewards. The ever-present drones had put a stop to that though. They wouldn¡¯t raise a finger for words or emotional abuse, but they were quite liberal with their rifle butts when things got violent. No one tried to steal from her, or any of the other winners again after that. Still, though out it all, at the back of her mind, she was still wondering what the Supervillain¡¯s plan was. What he stood to gain. Because unlike a lot of the starry-eyed fans of the Artificer, she was bright enough to see that the man never did anything that he didn¡¯t stand to benefit from, even if the benefit he received wasn¡¯t immediately obvious. She was grateful of course, but that didn¡¯t make her blind to any other motive the man might have. Which was why she got her answer when the day of the ¡®tournament¡¯ rolled around and her and a few other top players were rounded up and guided into a warehouse a street over. Helots. Those were the first things she noticed. Not the Mechromancer watching from the gantry above, or the mishmash of materials that made up an impromptu battlefield within. No, it had been the gleaming rows of drones. Five groups of them, armed and all painted up in different colours. Red. Green. Blue. Orange. Purple. Five teams. Five players. The drones using live ammo and getting swapped out with replacements between rounds. She¡¯d won, and she¡¯d also gotten her answer as to what the supervillain wanted. And now I¡¯m here, she thought as she nervously accepted the omni-pad from the villain, a familiar app already loaded up. The colourful interface seemed decidedly garish, now that she knew what the program¡¯s final intended use was. She shivered from more than just the cold. ¡°Are you ready, Spit?¡± It was funny, the way the Mechromancer said it. It wasn¡¯t derisive. Cold and impersonal perhaps, but there was no maliciousness there. Perhaps he doesn¡¯t know it¡¯s an insult? The thought sent an almost hysterical titter through her mind. The idea of the almost omnipresent overlord of the Block Party being ignorant to such an obvious thing. ¡°Yeah,¡± she slurred, trying not to flush at the way a string of saliva dripped from her chin. ¡°Good,¡± the villain nodded, utterly unperturbed by the dribble. ¡°Please remember that these are Spartois, not Helots. They are superior in almost every respect than the units you are familiar with. Their only failing is that they are a significantly larger investment in time and resources. My time and my resources.¡±Stolen novel; please report. The threat was implicit. Don¡¯t use them wastefully. This wasn¡¯t a game. The girl nodded nervously, eyeing the powerful machines that were still lined up on the pavement. ¡°You know your primary target?¡± He asked, bringing up an image of Manacle. Again, she nodded. ¡°Good, you may commence when you are ready. Perform well, and I will see about rectifying the numbness in your right side, which should cease the constant drool, should you so desire.¡± Spit¡¯s heart skipped a beat. Did he just say what she thought he said? She almost blurted out a request for him to repeat himself, but she caught it at the last second. She¡¯d only spent a little time in the villain¡¯s company, but she¡¯d quickly learned that the guy hated repeating himself. Keeping her mouth firmly shut, she started bringing up the camera displays of all her drones. ¡°Is the mini-map accurate?¡± She asked distractedly as she glanced up at the ¡®hostiles¡¯ displayed inside the diagram of the building. Already she could see likely points of entry that would allow her to proceed to her target most efficiently. Assuming that was where her target actually was. The game often gave faulty information so as to throw off kids. At the time she had thought it was just a way to arbitrarily add challenge. Now she knew it was a way of preparing people for the realities of fog of war in real combat. Real combat¡­ The words still didn¡¯t sound real in her head. Nothing that had happened after getting up that morning did. ¡°Each icon represents a person,¡± the Mechromancer said. ¡°However, the machine I¡¯m using to map the building operates off the same basic principle as Sonar.¡± At the confused glance she sent his way, he let out a long-suffering distorted sigh. ¡°It can identify that something a human shaped being is present. It cannot identify whether that person is a Meta, a gangster, or some random person who lives in that apartment block.¡± Spit frowned as she looked over the mass of icons that occupied the 3D map of the building. She would have to go room by room to find the target. Which meant she was likely to forgo the element of surprise entirely and be forced to waste a lot of time on false targets as she would have to move from the ground floor up. Or not, she supposed. If I make enough noise on my entry it might be enough to prompt the Kings into either fleeing or fighti- ¡°Uh boss, is this really necessary?¡± A voice asked, drawing her from her thoughts. Looking over she saw Uncle Ethan ¨C he insisted all the kids call him that, though not many did ¨C warily watching her, two other Saints nervously shuffling behind him. ¡°Be specific Ethan,¡± the Mechromancer¡¯s artificial voice crackled. ¡°The kid.¡± The man responded sheepishly, ¡°does it have to be the kid? I mean she¡¯s going to¡­¡± He trailed off, and in spite herself, Spit felt an odd sort of indignance rise up in her at his words. Kid. She wasn¡¯t a kid. She hadn¡¯t been one since the day she got chucked out onto the street while her mother¡¯s corpse was still cooling in the street. She¡¯d fought. Kids. Bums. Animals. She¡¯d fought to survive. True, she¡¯d never killed, and to be honest the thought of doing so made her a little sick, but she wasn¡¯t some ignorant child. You killed to survive. Maybe not everyday, but someday you would face that choice. That was life. For her, that day was today. If she wanted to keep living, enjoying the sensation of hot showers, soft beds, and a full belly, she was going to do as the Mechromancer asked her. Otherwise he would cast her aside, just like the other urchins he couldn¡¯t find a use for. Once she¡¯d been supposed to build things. Now he wanted her to kill things. It was just that simple. ¡°I can do it.¡± The look Ethan gave her was both surprised and¡­ sad. Why was he sad? ¡°I don¡¯t doubt you can sweetie,¡± the older man murmured, ¡°but you shouldn¡¯t have to. Give me the pad, I can-¡± ¡°You can¡¯t,¡± Mechromancer¡¯s voice cut in. Ethan flinched slightly at the man word¡¯s but continued on ¨C stupidly in her opinion. The Mechromancer had said she was going to do it. Ethan was just upsetting him by arguing. ¡°Look, boss, I¡¯ve killed people before. At least double digits,¡± the man persevered nervously. ¡°Let me control the drones, I can-¡± ¡°You can¡¯t,¡± Mechromancer cut him off again. ¡°You lack the finger dexterity to manipulate the control panel, and the neuroplasticity to quickly pick up the skill in the command scheme that is required.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know about that-¡± ¡°But I do,¡± the villain stated. ¡°I¡¯ve seen you and a few of the other recent inductees to my organization utilizing your pads. You are slow. Clumsy.¡± Ethan wilted. ¡°Well yeah, I¡¯ve never been too good with the new fangled touch screens and shit, but what about Willis, him and his pals are always on there gizmos.¡± ¡°Willis and his pals were supplied the same training program as everyone else. If they had displayed a higher aptitude than Spit, or her nearest contemporaries, they would be here.¡± Mechromancer gestured to the empty air, ¡°however they did not, and as such we are here, and you are wasting my time.¡± ¡°But¡­¡± the man began, only to trail off. ¡°She¡¯s just a kid.¡± The Mechromancer¡¯s helmet tilted slightly, ¡°as were the three individuals my security drones apprehended trying to sneak explosive devices into my workshop just last week. Discovering their bodies after the fact discomforted me, but I acknowledged the necessity of it. This is the same, and I can safely say that a child utilizing my technology to kill bothers me not at all.¡± A clawed metal gauntlet moved to rest on Spit¡¯s head. It was cold. ¡°If it makes you feel any better, think of her as a weapon,¡± the masked villain continued, eyes gleaming a sickly blue light. ¡°Spit is not killing these men. I am. The girl is merely the vessel through which my will is being conveyed.¡± Ethan looked like he wanted to argue, before sighing in defeat and strolling off. One of the Saints with him looked between him and the Mechromancer before hurrying after the retreating man. The other stayed, a neutral stare watching both her and the Boss. The Mechromancer cared not at all. ¡°Now Spit, if we are quite done with the interruptions, you may proceed.¡± A faint sick feeling in her stomach, Spit nodded as she looked down at the screen. Her initial breaching plan was already inputted and ready to go. The commands would only take her drones as far as the first floor, but that was only so that she could adapt for the next stage of the assault once she had eyes inside the building. Still, that initial plan had two targets slated for elimination. Two icons she believed to be guards based on their position in the lobby. Two deaths. ¡°What¡¯s the hold up?¡± Mechromancer¡¯s voice came over her shoulder. I¡¯m not killing them, she reiterated in her head. He is. ¡°Nothing,¡± she said as she brought one trembling finger down on the ¡®execute'' command. The drones behind her whirred to life, guns glinting ominously in the moonlight as they started striding toward the apartment block. Chapter Forty Eight ¡°He¡¯s acting oddly.¡± ¡°He¡¯s Erich,¡± Gravity sniffed disinterestedly. ¡°Odd is nothing new.¡± Myra was unconvinced, scowling as she swatted a particularly belligerent prisoner in the head. The man in question fell into line with his compatriots, the purple clad Kings reluctantly clambering into the waiting vans. What happened to them after that, Gravity didn¡¯t know. She didn¡¯t want to know. Just a few more months, she thought. Something will come up. Then for better or for worse, this would all be over with. Her stomach gurgled at the thought. ¡°Odder than normal then,¡± Myra continued. ¡°Taking in kids? Building an organization?¡± Gravity shrugged. Sure, it had sounded strange to her when she heard about it, but she could see Erich¡¯s twisted brand of logic in it. Outwardly it might have seemed the actions of a man scrambling for power, but she knew enough about him to see what his real goals were. Building and improving on his tech. For Erich, tech wasn¡¯t a means to an end. It was the end. Though I could understand why Bronte and Zigzag might see otherwise, she mused. Zigzag from unfamiliarity and Sarah because she¡¯s well¡­ Sarah. Her half-sister had never been much for nuance or subtlety, more willing to use violence or Hard-Light¡¯s reputation to achieve her goals, but even with that in mind Gravity was aware that the Sarah they had brought to Portland was the same one who¡¯d been mauled in their old family home. She was more¡­ volatile now. Like a wounded animal, Olivia thought sadly. Whether the damage was neurological or spiritual, the gravity manipulator couldn¡¯t say, but she knew something was wrong with her half-sister. By comparison, Erich¡¯s ¨C or Mechromancer¡¯s ¨C issues were small beans. ¡°Not that,¡± Myra frowned. ¡°I can live with that. Hell, it¡¯s almost¡­ heroic in a fucked up villainous kind of way.¡± Gravity ignored the hint of wistfulness in the purple woman¡¯s voice. ¡°He¡¯s¡­ colder. Distant.¡± ¡°Treating people like they¡¯re tools?¡± Gravity put in. ¡°Struggling to understand the people around him?¡± ¡°¡­Yeah.¡± Myra turned towards her, wide eyed. ¡°How did you¡­ I thought you hadn¡¯t spoken to him since¡­¡± ¡°Since Zigzag split us all up and set you to making sure we stayed split up?¡± In an out of character move, Myra looked a little sheepish at that ¨C and for just a moment Gravity felt like she was looking at a younger, less jaded, version of the woman. A woman who had thought of Justice as something other than the butt of a joke. ¡°I haven¡¯t,¡± Gravity sighed before the woman could lie, ¡°but I know the signs well enough.¡± She¡¯d grown up with them after all. Not the exact same signs, people tended to develop differently after all, but it wasn¡¯t hard to guess how Erich would change. Some small part of her had hoped he¡¯d be the exception. The guy hadn¡¯t exactly been enthused with the hero lifestyle ¨C and he wasn¡¯t a meta ¨C but it seemed that her hopes were for naught. ¡°It¡¯s the mask,¡± she muttered bitterly. ¡°The mask?¡± Myra chuckled, ¡°I¡¯ll admit it¡¯s a creepy looking thing, but I don¡¯t think Erich would fuck with anything that might fuck with his head. Dude¡¯s too obsessed with his genius.¡± ¡°Not the literal mask,¡± Gravity sighed as the last captive member of the Kings at their site were loaded up. ¡°Although, I suppose it¡¯s a part of it.¡± She frowned as she strode over to sit on the hood of an abandoned car, the purple woman trailing behind. ¡°People make a lot of fun of heroes and villains. The ridiculous costumes, the overblown attitudes and massive egos. What people don¡¯t seem to realize is how intoxicating it is. Wearing a mask. Wielding power. The lack of accountability. A little flamboyance becomes inevitable really.¡± ¡°Sounding a bit more philosophical than usual there Grav,¡± Myra smiled humourlessly. ¡°Sure, you¡¯re still the same knucklehead I used to know?¡± Gravity smiled back just as humourlessly, ¡°let¡¯s just say that I¡¯ve given the topic a lot of thought.¡± ¡°So, what you¡¯re saying is that our boy is letting the power go to his head?¡± Myra said, getting the conversation back on track. Gravity shrugged, ¡°basically, if you boil right down to it Erich¡¯s never cared about people, but he paid attention to them because he had to. If he didn¡¯t, he might end up as a smear on the sidewalk when someone took offense. Mechromancer doesn¡¯t have that problem. He can do what he wants within his little kingdom and damn the consequences. All he cares about is his machines and how they function. Anything not related to that is probably going in one ear and out the other.¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Sounds a bit much to come from just putting on a cape and a mask,¡± Myra frowned. ¡°I know I ain¡¯t like that.¡± Gravity steadfastly refused to comment on the idea that a woman who was bulletproof didn¡¯t let her invincibility influence her behaviour. The bruiser wasn¡¯t an idiot, but she had a habit of speaking bluntly. Not just with a lack of tact, but with the kind of bluntness that could get someone in serious trouble. The kind of trouble that no one would want unless they were a moron, or supremely confident in their abilities. Gravity knew where her money was on that front. Still, she knew better than to try and convince the woman that she¡¯d started taking more risks than ever since she¡¯d taken on the moniker of the ¡®Prowler¡¯ and the accolades that came with it. ¡­Or that Sarah hadn¡¯t been quite as vicious before she¡¯d become Bronte. She even had a few memories of Hard-Light almost being a decent father when he wasn¡¯t being Hard-Light. Masks changed people. There was power in taking on a mantle or title, and power invariably corrupted. ¡°Look, if it makes you feel any better, think of it as him developing hardcore tunnel vision while he¡¯s in costume,¡± she argued. ¡°Try and get him out of it and acting as ¡®Erich¡¯ every once in a while and he might go back to something approaching ¡®normal¡¯.¡± Myra frowned as she contemplated the other woman¡¯s words. ¡°Easier said than done,¡± she murmured, almost to herself. ¡°He really loves that suit.¡±
Erich watched dispassionately through the displays within his helmet as the drones continued their advance. ¡°Second floor is c-clear.¡± Spit murmured, determinedly keeping her eyes on the pad. Not once had she looked at the live-feed from the drones camera, evidently preferring to focus on the abstract display that was the ¡®game¡¯ system. ¡°Advancing to the third floor now.¡± Erich didn¡¯t much care. The bodies that now littered the second-floor hallway attested to her skill, even without a first-hand view. Seven hostiles down thus far, he noted. Damage to the drones is purely superficial. He would like to say that the success thus far was entirely a result of his superior craftsmanship ¨C and to a degree it was, given that most of the King¡¯s firepower was bouncing off his drone¡¯s exterior armour ¨C but he had to give credit where it was due. Spit was proving to be an able, and occasionally, quite creative commander. Having one of the drones flank around the Kings first responders by leaping across to the nearby apartment before leaping back was inspired. The gunmen in the stairway didn¡¯t even know they were under attack from behind until it was too late. A feat that was only possible because of the incredibly dense nature of Portland¡¯s city scape. The distance between the two apartment complexes had been all of a meter and thus possible for his Spartois to clear in a single leap. I wonder if she learned to leap between buildings while growing up around here? It certainly wasn¡¯t something he would ever have considered, but he could see it as a viable option for a street rat running from pursuers. He supposed he would ask her later. Right now I should focus on the task at hand. ¡°Where are they going, Ethan?¡± he asked as he glanced at the mini-map and saw the figures he had tentatively designated as ¡®Kings¡¯ continue to clamber up the staircase. At least, he assumed they were Kings, given that they weren¡¯t cowering in there rooms like most of the symbols on the display. Still, he had made sure to instruct Spit to leave a Spartoi on guard in each hallway as she advanced. Wouldn¡¯t do to have Manacle slip out the back after the bulk of Spit¡¯s forces had passed. He doubted a single drone would be able to stop a meta-human if he did do that, but it would serve to warn him if it was being attempted. Ethan glanced over at the display, and after a second to make sense of what he was looking at, answered. ¡°Could be getting ready to make a stand on a different floor, could be planning to make there escape from the roof,¡± the man in question shrugged. ¡°Depends on whether or not Manacle thinks he can hold out until help arrives.¡± Given that they were pretty deep in Kings territory, it said a lot about how fast the Spartois had chewed through Manacle¡¯s guys that Ethan¡¯s tone of voice indicated that he thought the latter more likely. ¡°Why not just jump from an earlier floor like the drone did?¡± Erich asked. ¡°Roof¡¯s safer,¡± Ethan said. ¡°Your Drone might not be bothered, but I wouldn¡¯t want to make that jump. The nearest apartment is about a floor shorter than the one they are in right now, so it¡¯s a pretty easy jump to get from one roof to the other. Wouldn¡¯t surprise me if they picked the building they¡¯re in right now for that reason.¡± Erich frowned at that. Really should have considered that they would have had an escape route available, he thought. Not that I would have considered jumping from rooftop to rooftop to be a viable escape route. It was moments like this that tended to drill home to him how different the culture he found himself in was to the one he¡¯d grown up in. For one thing, he¡¯d started to wonder why they weren¡¯t using the fire escape, only to realize that the rundown dump didn¡¯t have a fire escape. Jesus wept, Erich thought as he set off toward the building. ¡°W-where are you going, boss?¡± Spit called out as she noticed him striding off. ¡°To make sure they don¡¯t escape from the roof,¡± he called back. Pressing his palm to the brick surface of the building, he smiled as he felt it adhere in place. Up we go, he thought as he slowly started clambering up the vertical surface of the apartment complex. He moved with speed, the suit increasing his strength and the memories of his time on the old family climbing wall coming back to him with surprising ease. Never thought those stupid lessons would ever come in handy, he thought with just a hint of bitterness, ignoring the screams, shouting and sounds of gunfire echoing from within the apartment complex. Glancing at his HUD, he was relieved to see that every now and then the Kings were stopping to exchange fire with their pursuers. At the rate he was traveling he would beat them to the roof by a good twenty seconds. ¡°How are we looking, Spit?¡± The villain called over the radio. ¡°Two more t-targets down, Boss.¡± The young woman responded, ¡°but uh, one of the drones has lost signal. I-I think Manacle did it.¡± ¡°Which one, a pursuer or a rear-guard,¡± he asked. ¡°Pursuer, the uh, p-point man.¡± Frowning as he climbed, Erich spoke. ¡°Drone Eight, play last eight seconds of visuals before termination.¡± ¡°Acknowledged,¡± Gravity¡¯s artificial voice intoned, as the mini-map in the top right of Erich¡¯s HUD switched to a video screen. The scene displayed was about what he expected. A stairwell. Occasional burst of gunfire at retreating purple targets. A brief flash of flame, then the video became an inferno of flames as multiple error messages popped up. The screen turned black moments later. Probably melted the things internals, Erich scowled. Which meant recovery wasn¡¯t going to be an option. The drone probably looked like melted plastic. ¡°No matter, continue on,¡± he instructed before changing channels. ¡°Ethan, any sign of reinforcement?¡± ¡°Not yet boss,¡± the man responded. ¡°Usually a safehouse like this is where reinforcements come from not go to, so we probably have a bit of breathing room. Still, I wouldn¡¯t risk it, so I¡¯d try and finish as quick as possible¡­ you know¡­ if you don¡¯t mind.¡± Erich rolled his eyes at the man¡¯s sudden sheepishness. ¡°I¡¯ll try and keep that in mind.¡± Right, he thought as he continued climbing. Now to fight a guy who can set fire to things by looking at them, as well as a good dozen of his armed friends¡­ Chapter Forty Nine Erich settled in place on the roof, pulling his cloak tight around him as the camo system flared to life, rendering him all but invisible in the evening gloom. ¡°Now to wait,¡± he murmured. It didn¡¯t take long; the sound of pounding feet and harried breathing reaching his ears mere moments before the first figure burst onto the roof. ¡°Suit: prepare for sequential fire,¡± he whispered as a second figure followed the first. ¡°Designate first and subsequent targets priority two.¡± ¡°Acknowledged.¡± Feeling his heart thumping in his chest, the villain watched warily as seven more figures emerged from the stairway, eyes wild and chests heaving from the exertion. To his surprise, Manacle was the last to emerge. ¡°Designate ¡®Manacle¡¯ priority one,¡± Erich said as a targeting reticule superimposed itself over the man in the faux fireman costume. Momentarily, he wondered as to why the sadistic pyromancer would choose to take up the dangerous position of rear-guard. A question that was answered quite spectacularly as the man promptly turned around and sent a powerful stream of fire down the path he had just emerged from. The Meta planned to burn the building down with his pursuers still in it. Along with however many people live here, Erich noted grimly. Still, that wasn¡¯t his problem. ¡°Spit, evacuate the drones,¡± he radioed. ¡°Manacle just made a concerted effort to burn the building down.¡± ¡°What now boss?¡± One of the frightened Kings asked as Erich received a confirmation from the nervous street urchin. ¡°Now we jump,¡± Manacle instructed, grinning down at the smoke and flames that were now billowing from the stairway. ¡°Uh, Boss?¡± Another King flinched as the pyromaniac turned his eyes on him. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m not so good with heights.¡± If anything, the villain¡¯s smile only grew. ¡°Well then, I suggest you get comfortable,¡± the villain said. ¡°Or you can choose to try your luck with the flames and the bots.¡± Ah, so they saw through the drone¡¯s paper-thin disguise. Not exactly surprising given that drones weren¡¯t exactly uncommon on the West Coast. While their association with the Master made automata something of a taboo on the East Coast, the opposite rang true out here, with the use of drones being seen as something of a status symbol. So it wasn¡¯t exactly strange that Manacle could recognize a bunch of drones in clothes, even as he was running away from them. ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll jump boss.¡± ¡°Good, let¡¯s go,¡± the man said, turning toward the ledge. Which conveniently meant the whole crew had their backs to where Erich was crouching, as his metallic tentacles slid out from under the cover of his cloak. You know, if I were someone else, I might have used this moment to banter. The classic meta-human pre-battle banter. Fortunately, he wasn¡¯t someone else, and he didn¡¯t need to stroke his own ego by gloating moments before his victory. So instead, he just said one simple word. ¡°Fire.¡± For just a moment, a trio of pulsing red beams illuminated the rooftop, flashing three times within half as many seconds. Six steaming bodies toppled over the ledge a moment later, dead before they¡¯d even started to topple. Unfortunately for Erich, Manacle was not amongst them. Note to self, Manacle has a minor bruiser factor, he thought franticly as the man in question turned around, eyes ¨C quite literally - alighting on the exposed glowing barrels of the hidden villain¡¯s weapons. Erich¡¯s world became heat and fire as a stream of white-hot flames swallowed him. It had been quite some time since the engineer had shrieked in mortal terror, but he found the noise returned quite naturally to him as he instinctively raised his hands to in a futile attempt to ward off the flames, taking a step back as he did. ¡­Right over the ledge he had been leaned against. Weightlessness seized him as he tumbled, his stomach rising further into his chest as he fell.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Still, some small part of him managed to retain some semblance of coherent thought, and it was that part of him that acted; tearing the flaming fabric of his cloak off. Able to see once more, and no longer on fire, the engineer barely managed to stick his hand out and bond his hand to the wall. The resulting stop was painfully shoulder wrenching, but even as the servos in his arm ¨C and his arm itself ¨C lit up with pain, he knew it beat being splattered against the pavement. Of course, that meant he was still dangerously exposed, and still dangling from the side of the building, when Manacle¡¯s psychotic features peered over the rim of the roof. ¡°Shields?¡± He hissed. ¡°32%¡± Sounds about right, considering those flames were apparently hot enough set fire to my cloak through my shields, he thought grimly. Biting down on a curse, those half-forgotten instincts came to life once more as Erich kicked off the wall, leaping out of the way moments before another stream of fire washed past him. Of course, given that he leapt directly backwards, it was more a product of luck rather than skill that had him smash through a window into an apartment in the building opposite - and not say, straight into the unforgiving concrete of the building itself. ¡°Sorry,¡± Erich muttered distractedly to the man whose dinner table he had just landed on and promptly flattened. Clambering up, he dashed out into the apartment block¡¯s hallway, slapping shards of glass and chunks of dinner off his armour as he went. ¡°Ethan, where the fuck is Manacle?¡± He hissed into the comms, fear and indignation colouring his tone. ¡°He¡¯s uh¡­ following you.¡± ¡°What do you mean he¡¯s-¡± was as far as the villain got before the doorway of the apartment he¡¯d just exited exploded outwards. ¡°Mechromancer,¡± an unholy abomination made of smoke and fire levitated out of the smouldering apartment. Oh, he can use his powers to create thrusters under his hands and feet, Erich thought numbly. No one mentioned that. Why did no one mention that? As he dove into a stairwell, narrowly avoiding a fireball, the engineer couldn¡¯t help but feel some level of self-recrimination. Lasers are fine you said, he thought taking steps two at a time as he clambered down the stairs. Pulse weapons would be overkill on the new suit. Too energy intensive. With both them and the new UV shield running, it would cut down on operational time too much. Make the new suit too heavy. Less agile. It¡¯s supposed to be a stealth fighter this time, not a battle tank. Oh, how it had made sense at the time. He had actually patted himself on the back for the compromise. Now all he wanted to do was turn back time just so he could punch his smug past self in his rat-bastard face. ¡°Spit, where the fuck are my drones!?¡± He shouted, hoping he was injecting more authority than raw panic into his question. With any luck, bullets would prove more effective than masers, though failing that, he¡¯d settle for them momentarily delaying the meta-human while the monster took the time to tear his hard work apart. It was funny how a few minutes could change a man¡¯s priorities. ¡°C-coming,¡± the young woman responded. ¡°The drones are still in the process of evacuating the initial building. It should be about thirty-¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have thirty seconds!¡± Erich shouted, as he burst into another hallway, shoving aside an elderly gentleman as his autonomous weapons fired behind him as he ran. They weren¡¯t doing anything to the flaming meta-human, but it made him feel better. That aside, he might have felt momentarily bad about shoving aside a retiree, but the sound of the gentleman in question being instantly flamb¨¦ed by another fireball from his pursuer put any thought of concern for others from his mind. He was probably a criminal anyway, he reasoned as he continued sprinting. Part of him wanted to dive out the window and clamber down, but that plan had two issues. First, sticking to walls with the base of his hands and feet meant that climbing down would be slow, and he would be sitting duck during. Two, Manacle could fucking fly. Which meant that out on the street the dude was basically an attack helicopter. An attack helicopter that was immune to lasers. ¡°I¡¯m going to gut you, Mechromancer!¡± the being behind him roared. At least within the building he¡¯s roughly contained to the same two dimensions that I am, Erich thought as he dove around a corner, ignoring the shrieks of apartment dwellers as they caught sight of him, or the veritable inferno following him. In here I can at least¡­ hide?
Manacle was pissed. Royally pissed. He couldn¡¯t actually remember the last time he¡¯d been this pissed. The Saints weren¡¯t meant to be this much trouble. At worst, he¡¯d expected them to be a momentary speedbump on the Third Street Kings road to expansion. He had thought they¡¯d fold. Just like the Dogs, and the Blood before them. He figured it would take a month at the absolute most. Three months. Three months filled with setbacks, he raged, sending an errant blast of fire into a nearby apartment building ¨C the screams from within doing little to appease him. That crossdressing cunt impersonating his people. Intercepting orders. Giving new ones. Starting internal fights. He¡¯d known fighting a shapeshifter would be annoying, but he didn¡¯t know just how annoying. And the sad part was, that wasn¡¯t even the worst of it. Four new enemy Metas ¨C more than doubling the number the Saint initially had. One of his guys getting his head crushed before anything even started. The Saints rank and file suddenly swelling with drones and laser weapons. That last one had hurt. Not physically ¨C if anything it made fights even easier for him ¨C but casualties amongst his rank and file had skyrocketed. Morale was shaky. Doubts were beginning to set in. His mishmash of conquered gangs and territories were seeing his inability to bring the Saints to heel and sensing weakness. The Kings sudden expansion was in danger of imploding. And now, some pissant in a suit had the balls to attack him while he was visiting his mistress to try and take his mind off things, he thought as he flung a fireball at the suit dwelling prick in question, growling as the man dove to the side at the last second. Said mistress, had taken a bullet when the drones had initially stormed onto his floor, but that didn¡¯t particularly bother him. Women were lining up to drop their pants for the leader of the Kings, and even if they weren¡¯t, he was more than capable of taking what he wanted, regardless of willingness. He often did. For variety, if nothing else. A bullet winged off the wall next to him, and the gang leader ducked instinctively at the sound of something that could actually threaten him ¨C unlike those piddly lasers the suit asshole was using - losing track of his quarry as he turned to face the new threat. A nobody ¨C old, fat and balding. Ancient handgun in shaky hands as he stood in the doorway to his home. The Meta lit the fat fuck up like a candlestick. And now even asshole nobodies are taking pot-shots at me. Objectively, he knew that the people here were defending their homes against what they perceived to be an attack on them, but in his rage addled mood he simply saw it as more gnats sensing weakness. ¡°Mechromancer!¡± he roared, renewing the chase as he blasted down the hallway. ¡­only to find nothing. Chapter Fifty Erich was well aware that no one could hear him breath. His suit served to muffle it. He¡¯d made sure of it. Didn¡¯t want so sound like some kind of asthmatic golem after all. Yet, even with all the empirical evidence pointing to the act being entirely pointless, he couldn¡¯t help but hold his breath as Manacle hovered beneath him. With his arms spread out as he clung to the hallway ceiling, Erich looked like some kind of demented spider as the fire-based villain ranted, raved and flung fire as he searched for his prey. Genius intellect, multiple doctorates, grew up training to be a hero, and the best I can think of is ¡®he probably won¡¯t look up¡¯, the villain thought frantically. ¡°Come out Mechromancer!¡± The pyromaniac yelled, ¡°or I¡¯ll burn this whole building down with everyone in it.¡± It took all of Erich¡¯s willpower not to point out that the guy was already in the process of burning down the building. In fact, given the shoddy construction materials that seemed to permeate the entire city, he wasn¡¯t entirely sure the rest of the block was safe either. Especially when you consider just how tightly packed everything is, he thought as he searched desperately for an opening - any opening - in which to slink away. As if on cue, a crash came from across the hall, both villain¡¯s turning to look just in time to see a Spartoi emerge into the hall. Erich felt hope flare in his chest as he realized that once more Spit had chosen to jump between buildings, rather than move to the bottom floor. That brief spark of hope died an ugly death as the Spartoi opened fire, Manacle ducked under it, and the villain hit the machine in the chest with a truly spectacular fireball. Erich¡¯s Spartois were designed to be resistant to small arms fire. A fireball to the chest was not small arms fire, and Erich could practically visualize the machines delicate internals frying as it slumped to the floor, smoke trailing from the insides. On the bright side, he¡¯d learned something from that interaction. Manacle dodged. Manacle was not immune to kinetic impacts. Given his powerset and his current state, Manacle was only immune to heat based weaponry. Even as another Spartoi spilled into the hallway and was summararily cooked by his opponent, Erich felt a plan form. He just had to time it¡­ now. In the next few seconds, a few things happened. Erich¡¯s mechandrites dropped their attached weaponry. Manacle looked down for just a moment as the weapons in question clattered to the floor, which meant he didn¡¯t notice the trio of serpentine mechanical limbs descending from on high. He also missed the slight crack of a fluorescent light tube being snapped out from its position on the ceiling. He did notice though when something wrapped around his throat, pulling him up into the air and face to face with the featurless mask of the Mechromancer. ¡°Night,¡± Erich smiled vindictively as he drove his impromptu new weapon into one of his opponents wide open and panicked eyes. The effect was instantaneous. The flames that wreathed the villain winked out, leaving behind a slightly overweight corpse in the tattered remains of a fireman¡¯s uniform. A corpse that fell to the floor a moment later as Erich¡¯s mechandrites unwrapped from around the former villain¡¯s throat. Erich dropped to floor a moment later, dropping the bloody shard of glass that had broken off in his gauntlets as he did. He felt ill. Not for killing Manacle. He¡¯d stopped feeling squieemish about death when his killcount hit the triple digits. No, he felt ill because he¡¯d nearly died. What should have been an easy ¡®in and out¡¯ assassination had become the sort of frantic brawl that heroes and villains always seemed to engage in. Because of shoddy information. Because he hadn¡¯t brought enough drones. Because he didn¡¯t have enough variety of drones. Because he¡¯d felt the need to get involved himself. Complacency. That had been what nearly killed him. He¡¯d thought he was safe and he wasn¡¯t. It had been an illusion. A fantasy. ¡°Uh, you ok, Boss?¡± Spit¡¯s voice came over his comms, prompting the villain to look up from the corpse, to see a Spartoi tentatively peeking out of the doorway, looming over its two fallen brethren. It took him a second to identify the emotion in the girl¡¯s voice. Concern. Concern and fear. Concerned about him and worried that she might be punished for ¡®failing¡¯. It was funny. Not even ten minutes previous, he wouldn¡¯t have picked up on that. Wouldn¡¯t have bothered, his head so filled with machines and numbers. Not caring for the ¡®little details¡¯. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. When was the last time he¡¯d sat up and seriously looked at the people around him? Assessed them for more than just their value as a cog in his production line. I can¡¯t remember. ¡°Boss?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he said, before hesitating as he slowly he came to a conclusion. He wasn¡¯t safe. Not yet. He¡¯d thought he was and he¡¯d nearly paid for it. He needed to think bigger. Beyond machines and blueprints. ¡°¡­You did good Spit,¡± he said, plumbing his mind for the words he thought he might have wanted to hear at her age. ¡°Very good.¡± He couldn¡¯t see her, and as the silence stretched on, he found himself wondering if he¡¯d made a mistake. Said the wrong thing. A concern that was put to rest a moment later as the girl spoke again, pride suffusing her voice. ¡°Thankyou sir. T-that mean¡¯s a lot.¡± He was sure it did. Which was good. It meant she would work harder. She¡¯s not a machine after all, he mused, wondering when that had become news to him. The sensation of heat growing on his face, even through his suit, reminded him that he was still standing in a burning building. Perhaps epiphanies about the world and his still tenuous place in it could wait until he wasn¡¯t inside a burning building. Still, the second he returned to the workshop, things would change. As many as needed. Until I¡¯m safe.
¡°Were you intentionally trying to have me killed, or just humbled?¡± One would think that with Manacle¡¯s death, and the success of the Saint¡¯s other attacks on the Kings, the atmosphere in the restaurant would be jovial. It was not. ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about?¡± Zig-zag drawled, refusing to take their eyes off Bronte. ¡°Same,¡± the woman in question said. Erich sighed in disgust. If he had a more fragile ego, he supposed he might have been irritated that no one in the room was even looking at him. Not Bronte. Not Zig-zag. And certainly not the collection of goons they had brought to this ¡®team meeting¡¯. Heavily armed goons, Erich mentally amended. Zig-Zag might have had the edge in Metas, with both Prowler and another Meta swathed in white robes he had never seen before being present, but Bronte¡¯s people were armed to the gills. With his tech. Lasers. Helots. Armor. Some other bits of meta-tech he knew he hadn¡¯t built. Black-market tech? Gravity was there too, but she looked entirely disinterested, if not outright disgusted, by the events going on. He also noticed that she wasn¡¯t exactly on Bronte¡¯s ¡®side of the room¡¯ either. If something did happen, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder if she would side with Bronte or choose to run and see who came out on top. Actually Prowler might be in the same boat, he thought as he glanced surreptitiously at where the woman was lingering near his own team of Spartois. Although that might just be so she can smash them the moment this turns violent. He missed his workshop. His nice, black and white, politics-free workshop. ¡°Manacle,¡± Erich reiterated. ¡°Both of you sent someone to my workshop with orders to take out a Meta in King¡¯s territory.¡± And hadn¡¯t that been annoying ¨C receiving identical orders from two different ¡®bosses¡¯. ¡°It had an accompanying dossier on the man. Said dossier was lacking in several key pieces of information.¡± He pulled out two different flash drives. ¡°Now, perhaps I should have grown suspicious when both dossiers were missing different pieces of information.¡± He should. He definitely should. ¡°But given that I¡¯m trying to create an entire industrial base for this organization from scraps, I figure I can be forgiven for missing a few small details from people I was supposed to have been able to trust.¡± Or at least, trust enough not to play power games with him while their was a war going on. Which was hopelessly na?ve in retrospect. ¡°It was Manacle,¡± Zig-Zag scoffed. ¡°He was the leader of the Kings for years and he didn¡¯t exactly shy away from using his powers in public. I assumed that his powers were common knowledge.¡± Yep, the shapeshifter wanted him dead. ¡°Perhaps if you live around here, but I¡¯m new to the area, and I haven¡¯t exactly been chatting with the locals.¡± Or anyone really. A mistake I really need to rectify. The shapeshifter shrugged, before turning to glare at Bronte once more. ¡°More importantly, I do wonder what gives you the right to give orders to people who don¡¯t belong to you, Block Captain.¡± This time it was Bronte¡¯s turn to shrug. ¡°I received information on Manacle¡¯s location and decided to bypass the usual chain of command in favour of speed,¡± Bronte¡¯s smile turned decidedly mocking. ¡°My apologies for acting beyond my station, Gang Leader.¡± Erich had to wonder why they were even pretending at this point. The Saints were less a unified entity these days than they were two different organizations acting in concert. The only thing that would need to change is for one of the groups to adopt a new colour scheme and name. That wasn¡¯t his concern at the minute though. His concern was that both of them were ignoring him! ¡°I assume your reasoning was the same, Bronte?¡± He put in before the two could really get into sniping at each other. Bronte glanced at him, before looking away. ¡°Yes. Manacle¡¯s powers are common knowledge. I thought you aware and underestimated just how out of the loop you were in regards to the Kings line. My apologies, it won¡¯t happen again.¡± He had to hand it her. She was an excellent liar. If she even was lying - which was the problem with her possibly being good at it. Which left him little better off than when this meeting began, information wise. Zig-Zag definitely wanted him dead ¨C likely as a way of weakening Bronte. Bronte might want him dead ¨C for reasons he couldn¡¯t even begin to guess. Feeling slighted by his actions back at his workshop? It was a hell of a grudge to hold over something so minor. Then again, didn¡¯t that describe Bronte perfectly? Still, she might be innocent. He needed more information. Which was why, rather than participate than in the ensuing argument between the two de-facto leaders of the Saints, he sat back and waited. An hour later, he was free to leave, shaking off unsubtle attempts by both parties to speak privately. ¡°Natasha,¡± he said to the one-handed girl fiddling with an Omni-pad in the van, ¡°bring Darius and anyone else with influence in the Block Party to me when we get back.¡± ¡°We going to have some kind of meeting boss?¡± the girl asked as she glanced nervously at the Spartois clambering into the back of the vehicle. For just a second, he wondered why. Then he saw where else she was glancing. The Saints, lingering about the place. Which was only naturally really, what with all their leaders in the restaurant. The place was well guarded, even if it was deep in the Saints territory. Perhaps even more tightly guarded, given the friction between Zig-Zag and Bronte. Natasha was nervous because they were in a perfectly normal van. It wouldn¡¯t stop gunfire, and with the Spartois all loaded up, they were pretty much defenceless. It was funny that he¡¯d never thought of that before. Just trusted that the Saints would perform their roll as guards. As if they just another kind of drone. But they weren¡¯t, and as recent events had shown, they weren¡¯t necessarily on his side just because they were wearing the same colors. ¡°Something like that,¡± Erich murmured as he directed the Spartois to redeploy outside again. Seeing Natasha¡¯s questioning look, he inclined his head, ¡°we might be a bit slower getting home, but I¡¯d rather be ready for anything.¡± ¡°Won¡¯t get any argument from me, Boss.¡± No. He supposed he wouldn¡¯t. Nor from any of the other members of the Block party. The drive home was slow with the Drones jogging alongside, and Erich didn¡¯t feel totally relaxed until they were past the ring of Helots that patrolled ¡®his¡¯ territory. With Manacles death, Saint territory had never been more secure. Why then did he feel more in danger than ever. No more sticking my head in the sand, he thought. Things were going to change. No more sitting back. Chapter Fifty One ¡°You know, right up until this moment I thought you were a robot.¡± Erich frowned, putting aside his recently acquired copy of ¡®How to Make Friends and Influence People¡¯ as the assorted ¡®leadership¡¯ of the Block Party filed into the room. Ethan, Darius, a very uncomfortable looking Spit, and Natasha. A few others whose names he didn¡¯t know were present, but based on the fact that they had positioned themselves behind the aforementioned four, he assumed they were his underling¡¯s underlings. My underlings have underlings, he realized as he saw enormity of his organization arrayed before him. How the hell did I reach a point where I have underlings? Let alone have under-underlings? He decided it was better for his sanity if he didn¡¯t think about it. ¡°And why would you assume I was a robot?¡± He asked, directing a dry look towards Natasha. ¡°Dunno,¡± the girl in question shrugged. ¡°Never seen you without your suit before. Thought you might have been one of the Master¡¯s creations that had just reactivated.¡± Well, he couldn¡¯t fault her for that kind of logic. There had been a report just that morning of some mechanical monstrosity rising from the sea to attack New York ¨C only to be put down by Iron Storm after a few hours of fighting and hundreds of thousands of dollars in damages. The story had only barely made frontline news. By this point it was practically routine. The Master had been nothing if not prolific. ¡°Well I¡¯m not,¡± he said, remembering to maintain eye contact and speak with a ¡®kind, yet authoritarian tone.¡¯ Whatever the hell that means. ¡°You ok, boss?¡± Natasha continued, ignoring the looks of alarm and reproach from just about everyone around her. ¡°You sound a little¡­ ill.¡± Well, at least she stopped just short of saying constipated, he thought. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he growled as he slid the waste of ink and time that was ¡®How to Make Friends and Influence People¡¯ into his drawer. ¡°So Boss, what did you want us for?¡± Ethan cut in before Natasha could speak again ¨C or Erich could give any more thought to vaporizing her if she did. ¡°Status report,¡± Erich said, turning has attention once more to the far more interesting and logical set of blueprints before him; a proposed set of upgrades to Overdrive¡¯s vehicle now that her opponents were adapting to counter her. Which was why he was totally oblivious as his collected lieutenants exchanged confused glances. ¡°About what Boss?¡± Darius put in. ¡°Everything and anything,¡± Erich responded. ¡°I¡­ Uh¡­¡± Darius trailed off, as that answer really didn¡¯t give him a lot to work with. Or rather, it gave him too much to work with, and most of it was bad. In his experience, Supervillains wanted to hear about results, not issues. You were either expected to solve the problem yourself, or they¡¯d find someone who would. Given that most of the problems facing your average gang lieutenant didn¡¯t really have a solution, your average supervillain led criminal organization had a high turnover. ¡°Ethan, are we still getting people from the Saints asking for roles within my areas of influence?¡± Specifically, jobs that kept them around his factories and shop. Not for the role itself, so much as because it meant they were clearly aligned with his faction. ¡°Well¡­ yeah, but I¡¯ve been sending most of them back to Bronte like you asked,¡± the man said. ¡°Stop doing that. Accept them. All of them that you think have something to offer. If we don¡¯t have a role for them then I¡¯ll make one.¡± It was time to face facts. Bronte wasn¡¯t his ally anymore. For whatever reason, she¡¯d decided he was a threat. To be humbled back into mindless servitude or removed. He considered the latter option unlikely given the fact that he was currently constructing a secret army for her; but given how small the incident that had brought them to this point was, he couldn¡¯t be totally sure. ¡°Wha¡­ but I thought¡­¡± ¡°That I didn¡¯t want to appear on anyone¡¯s radar?¡± Erich said. ¡°Well, that clearly hasn¡¯t worked, so we¡¯re changing gears. We¡¯re expanding. As fast and as big as possible.¡± He deliberately ignored the palpable wave of excitement that ran through the room at his words. Instead he turned his attention to Darius. ¡°Are our people still being harassed down at the junkyards?¡± A little shaken at suddenly being thrust into the spotlight, the young man nodded slowly.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Yeah, a little. The gangs know they can¡¯t do anything overt because of the Helots, but they¡¯ve uh, started to booby trap the scrap piles.¡± Ah, Erich hadn¡¯t considered that. Probably because it¡¯s self defeating, he thought. Even if they drive off the Block Party with it, the traps will remain. ¡°Do we know who¡¯s doing it?¡± He asked. Darius shook his head. ¡°Could be anyone. Or everyone. Wouldn¡¯t surprise me if it was one gang trying to push us out, a coalition, or even just other scavengers that don¡¯t like us muscling them out of the best scrap. It¡¯s not too bad at the minute, but it¡¯s getting worse. A few kids have lost fingers and eyes, and I¡¯m getting more people asking about how things are going with Natasha¡¯s treatment.¡± The girl in question scowled as she gestured to her still missing fingers. Not that Erich noticed. He was too busy focusing on the problem at hand, which was in a word, annoying. He had no one to strike at, and even if he did, he didn¡¯t want to get involved in an open conflict with who knows how many other groups. Especially if this situation with the Saints goes as south. At the minute it was probably the reputation of the Saints ¨C as the group currently stonewalling the Kings ¨C that kept his scavengers from being harassed. Well, that and the cost vs reward of tangling with accompanying Helots. Still, that wouldn¡¯t last forever, especially as his scavenging operation continued to expand. Eventually, someone the value of scrap would rise for the other gangs enough for them to fight him for it. Erich ignored the nervous shuffling of Darius as he tabbed through his Omni-pad to reach the ¡®scrap log¡¯. A small database of the currently available bits of scrap present in the pile down on the workshop floor. True to Darius¡¯s word, there was a small but noticeable dip in additions in the last few weeks. ¡°The traps themselves aren¡¯t that bad,¡± Darius continued, growing more nervous as Erich¡¯s silence continued. ¡°There aren¡¯t actually that many. The problem is the randomness of it, and that kids are getting nervous, so they work slower and hesitate more.¡± Erich didn¡¯t blame him. He knew he would be a lot more cautious if he risked losing and eye, a finger or even his life every time he picked up one of his tools. Even if it was only a one in a hundred chance. The kids wouldn¡¯t stop. They were accustomed to risk, but as Darius said, they would be slower. ¡°Where does most of our decent scrap come from?¡± Erich asked, turning his gaze back the teen. ¡°Monger Scrap, near the docks.¡± Darius and Natasha said without hesitation. ¡°Portland gets a lot of imports,¡± Darius said as he shot the unrepentant girl a dirty look. ¡°Gangs aren¡¯t great at maintenance though, so a lot of it gets chucked out again. Monger used to export it for cheap before Blur caught him trying to build a giant robot in Florida. He¡¯s still in supermax, so it doesn¡¯t get exported anymore, but a lot of the gangs still dump there scrap there. Guess its habit.¡± Erich ignored the little tinge of distaste that crossed his face at the mention of his sibling. He could remember when she caught the Monger. Zero civilian casualties. She¡¯d been ecstatic and wanted to take the whole family out to celebrate. He¡¯d declined. ¡°Who controls it now?¡± ¡°No one,¡± Natasha cut in before Darius could answer. ¡°None of the gangs in that area have an Artificer, so no one¡¯s really interested in it. It really is just a dumping ground now. Which is why most of the kids use it.¡± Convenient. ¡°Do you think you¡¯d be able to maintain a decent supply of part if you were to utilize that location solely?¡± ¡°If we didn¡¯t have to worry about traps?¡± Darius asked. Erich nodded. It didn¡¯t take Darius long to come to a decision, he wasn¡¯t slow. Uneducated, but definitely not slow. ¡°So long as the gangs keep dumping there, then definitely,¡± he said. ¡°Depends on whether the Helots scare them off, or if they¡¯re the ones sabotaging the scrap in the first place.¡± ¡°How long could you maintain supply if they did stop dumping?¡± Darius frowned. ¡°A few months? Maybe a year? That¡¯s a total guess though.¡± Total guess or not, Erich could work with that. With any luck, by this time next year he would have a strong enough industrial base to make relying on scrap redundant. ¡°Keep utilizing the other scrap yards for now while I see about seizing that location. After I¡¯ve done that your people can rely solely on Monger¡¯s scrap yard until we drain it dry.¡± Darius nodded, relief clear on his features. ¡°Spit,¡± Erich said, causing the girl in question to flinch as his gaze swung toward her. ¡°I¡¯ve set aside four Helots. Two to act as payment for the Clerics services, and two to transport you to and from her clinic. You may leave tonight or tomorrow morning.¡± ¡°Natasha,¡± Erich said ignoring the stunned silence that fell over the room as he turned towards the mildly maimed girl. ¡°¡­Why are you here?¡± ¡°You said to gather the leaders,¡± the girl said, a hint of defensiveness edging into her voice. ¡°That I did,¡± Erich acknowledged. ¡°Ethan leads my enforcers. Darius leads the workers. Spit leads my growing group of drone controllers.¡± Something her burgeoning reputation as a result of her aid in killing Manacle helped with. ¡°So what are you the leader of?¡± The teen frowned, biting her lip as she thought the problem over. Given that the girl needed to think about what she was ostensibly in charge of, Erich was getting ready to ask her to leave when she spoke up again. ¡°The cripples!¡± This time it was Erich¡¯s turn to frown. ¡°¡­The cripples?¡± If his scepticism in anyway fazed the teen, it didn¡¯t show as the girl nodded eagerly. ¡°Uh-huh, with all the accidents and traps and all that, we¡¯ve got more than a few kids missing fingers and eyes and hands and all that,¡± she grinned. ¡°They¡¯re all too afraid to bug you about it though so they¡¯re hanging around me.¡± Erich¡¯s frown only grew. He had been aware of the growing number of ¡®mildly maimed¡¯ workers. It was inevitable really, even if one ignored the ¡®trap problem¡¯. He had a workshop full of power tools and industrial equipment staffed by children; many of whom were quite illiterate. Personal protective equipment could only go so far. When they even bother to wear it, he thought. Still, he hadn¡¯t kicked any of them out yet, even if their work output suffered in the meantime. As soon as he got his cybernetics working to a standard he was pleased with they would all be back to full efficiency, and he was loathe to dispose of even middlingly experienced workers when they could still be repaired. So yes, he supposed, Natasha was in fact in charge of denomination of his workforce, as temporary as that denomination¡¯s existence would be. Still, there was an opportunity there, and if Natasha was so eager to claim the position, he was willing to let her have it. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he smiled. ¡°I am?¡± ¡°She is?¡± Natasha and Darius said in unison. Erich ignored the minor interruption. Instead his thoughts were occupied with an idea that slowly beginning to form. ¡°What¡¯s with that smile, boss?¡± Natasha asked, a hint of nervousness coming to the fore. ¡°I¡¯m not smiling,¡± Erich said, a shark-like smile gracing his features. Yes, an opportunity indeed. ¡°Natasha, tell me, how good are you at dealing with blood?¡± Chapter Fifty Two ¡°You know, before you showed up here I was beginning to think you¡¯d forgotten about me,¡± Overdrive teased from her position at the back of her car. And it was a car now, rather than a rough hodge-podge between tank and drag racer. ¡°You¡¯re valuable to me,¡± Erich grunted as he kept his eyes on the screen in front of him. ¡°Oh really-¡± ¡°As a source of parts,¡± he continued before the Artificer could finish whatever she¡¯d been about to say. He didn¡¯t have to look up to know that Overdrive was pouting; the outrageously dressed woman no doubt upset that he¡¯d cut off her attempts to tease him. He didn¡¯t care, he was too busy trying to get a hard-light panel at just the right angle to deflect force while still covering a decent area of the vehicle. Shields, he thought. Why did so many racers invest in bigger, more armoured vehicles, when shields were both light and durable. Sure, it was called the death-race, but at least half of the name was race. Still it had been a few months now, and that should have been long enough for Overdrive¡¯s competition to have adapted to her new strategy. ¡°Is the plan still working?¡± He asked, finally turning to look at the woman. Only to flush and splutter as he found himself staring a pair of large round and entirely bare tits. ¡°Well, it was a bit harder than usual, but I managed to fluster you,¡± Overdrive grinned as she pulled her top back down. Foul woman, Erich thought as tried to stop the blood rushing to his face ¨C and other regions. Amazing breasts though. Evidently happy that she¡¯d finally managed to throw the engineer off balance, the woman finally answered his question. ¡°As far the plan, it¡¯s still working but some people are already switching up their loadout to counter it.¡± Erich nodded absently. The ¡®plan¡¯ was relatively simple. Make Overdrive¡¯s vehicle as fast as possible by stripping off all the armour and replacing it with Hard-Light shield generators. The shields didn¡¯t even have to be particularly strong. Just strong enough to keep Overdrive intact while she pushed out of the initial pack. From there she could usually stay out of range of any of the other racer¡¯s weapon systems and win the race pretty much unmolested. It was a simple plan. One Erich was surprised he hadn¡¯t seen before. Though I suppose if I were in one of those cars I might be less than willing to trade protection or firepower for speed, he supposed. As it was, he had been on the outside looking in, and could pretty glibly make that suggestion. Though I suppose it says just how desperate and frazzled Overdrive was the she agreed to it. Though she¡¯d had a condition, one he¡¯d reluctantly he agreed to. He couldn¡¯t provide his services to any of the other racers. Which pretty well nixed my plan to use Overdrive¡¯s success to get an in with the other Artificers in the Dome, he thought glumly. Still, things were working out just fine for now. Given the simplicity of the components he was asking her for, the female gladiator could still keep pace with his demand for parts. And by the time she can¡¯t she¡¯ll either be free or dead. Personally, he was hoping for the former, because it would be a pain to have to build a new working relationship with another racer. He was reasonably sure he could tempt her into working with him when she left the Dome. Amongst other things, he was reasonably sure she wouldn¡¯t have anywhere to go. People didn¡¯t sign up with the Dome because they were replete with options in the first place. No, the second Overdrive was out on the streets she would be hunted by every gang in the city hoping to use her services, or rather, press her into service. He at least liked to think that by being the devil she knew, he was a more palatable option. ¡°What are you scheming about over there?¡± Overdrive popped up and jabbed a long finger into the cool metal of his helmet. ¡°How do you know I¡¯m scheming?¡± He grunted as he irritably swiper her finger away. He had a helmet on after all. ¡°You aren¡¯t fiddling with the pad, and if you¡¯re not fiddling with the pad, and you¡¯re not talking, you¡¯re scheming,¡± Overdrive grinned triumphantly. ¡°Those three things are like, all you do.¡±Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°That¡¯s ridiculous,¡± Erich scoffed, and a little offended despite himself. ¡°Cumulatively, you¡¯ve known me for enough hours to equate on full day. One full day is not enough time to have the faintest clue ¡®about all the things I do¡¯.¡± Overdrive was undeterred, still smiling as she practically danced away. ¡°Yep. Which only makes it sadder really.¡± Erich growled, but resisted the urge to argue. The woman was trying to rile him up. Not out of any maliciousness, but simply for her own entertainment. ¡°I know I¡¯m one of the few people you have the capacity to communicate with on any regular basis,¡± he sighed, ¡°but would it kill you be a little more serious.¡± He almost missed the days of her trying to brain him with a wrench. And the sad thing was, he still didn¡¯t know whether the ¡®Flirty Overdrive¡¯ or the ¡®Angry Overdrive¡¯ was the real one. More than that, he wondered if even she knew anymore.
Chat-Log (excerpt exported from Slave-Com 12 on 15/09/2019) Visual_Distortion Replied on September 2nd 2019: I need something more Newton. How did he know something was off about the ¡®werewolf¡¯ Metas? Newton¡¯sLovechild Replied on September 2nd 2019: I don¡¯t know. The guy¡¯s just¡­ smart. Wicked smart. He knows shit. Visual_Distortion Replied on September 2nd 2019: This isn¡¯t the kind of thing you just know. He had to have learnt it somewhere, and the only place I¡¯m thinking that he could have feasibly learned it is from the Organization I¡¯m investigating. Newton¡¯sLovechild Replied on September 2nd 2019: You think he¡¯s an ex-member? Visual_Distortion Replied on September 2nd 2019: I don¡¯t know what to think. I hope he¡¯s a turncoat, because if he is, it means he might know more. Newton¡¯sLovechild Replied on September 2nd 2019: I don¡¯t know. You said these guys are like ¡®heroes by any means necessary¡¯. I might not know much about his past, but I do know that he¡¯s definitely no hero. Visual_Distortion Replied on September 2nd 2019: Just because you¡¯re a part of an organization doesn¡¯t mean you believe in it¡¯s ideals, or even the way it operates. You should know that from experience. Visual_Distortion Replied on September 2nd 2019: Newton? Newton¡¯sLovechild Replied on September 2nd 2019: ¡­That was a low blow. Visual_Distortion Replied on September 2nd 2019: Yes, it was. I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m just under a lot of stress, and it¡¯s infuriating for me to know that someone might have the answers I¡¯m looking for, but I can¡¯t touch him because of politics. Newton¡¯sLovechild Replied on September 2nd 2019: It¡¯s kind of scary that you consider politics to be the main issue here, and not the veritable city of villains you would have to get through to get at him. Visual_Distortion Replied on September 2nd 2019: My powers are what they are. I¡¯m not one for false modesty. Newton¡¯sLovechild Replied on September 2nd 2019: No shit. Visual_Distortion Replied on September 2nd 2019: Anyway, are you absolutely sure you¡¯ve mentioned everything? My guy¡¯s still going through his electronic history, but we¡¯re pulling up nothing. Someone did a very thorough job of wiping out his history. The kind of thorough that left a number of street level forgers dead and tossed into dumpsters. Newton¡¯sLovechild Replied on September 2nd 2019: Yikes. Visual_Distortion Replied on September 2nd 2019: Yikes indeed. My earlier point stands though. The skills you¡¯ve mentioned don¡¯t just pop up out of nowhere. Especially if he isn¡¯t an Artificer like you¡¯ve said he¡¯s claimed. If he¡¯s being truthful, that means he had to have received training somewhere. Which means he has to have a past. A history. Give me something, no matter how small. That kind of skillset is so small that even a single clue might help me narrow this guy¡¯s identity down. Newton¡¯sLovechild Replied on September 2nd 2019: I keep telling you. He doesn¡¯t talk about his past. He barely talks about himself at all. Newton¡¯sLovechild Replied on September 2nd 2019: Wait. Visual_Distortion Replied on September 2nd 2019: Newton? Newton¡¯sLovechild Replied on September 2nd 2019: Jason. The Hangman called him Jason in that final fight. Almost mocking him with it. He¡¯s dodged me everytime I¡¯ve asked about it since, but that must have been his original name. Newton¡¯sLovechild Replied on September 2nd 2019: Visual? You still there? Visual_Distortion Replied on September 2nd 2019: You¡¯re absolutely sure it was Jason? Newton¡¯sLovechild Replied on September 2nd 2019: Positive. My helmet was trashed in the fighting so I don¡¯t have a recording or anything, but I remember the name. Visual_Distortion Replied on September 2nd 2019: Stay put for a while. I need to look into this. Don¡¯t lose track of him. Newton¡¯sLovechild Replied on September 2nd 2019: Do you know something? Newton¡¯sLovechild Replied on September 3rd 2019: Distortion? Newton¡¯sLovechild Replied on September 5th 2019: Hello? Newton¡¯sLovechild Replied on September 13th 2019: Lovely. ¡°What are you looking at?¡± Myra positively jumped at the words, spinning round to see one of Erich¡¯s munchkins standing in the door of his office. Drool? Dribble? Spit? Yeah, Spit. Of course, the girl didn¡¯t drool anymore. Erich had gotten the Cleric to fix that problem for reasons Myra couldn¡¯t even begin to fathom. Man was probably just being soft again. Of course, that was when the girl saw the pad in Myra¡¯s hands. The pad that Myra definitely wasn¡¯t supposed to be snooping through. Especially with Erich out of the office. Then her eyes flicked over to where the lone sentry of the office stood, looking fairly ridiculous with a sheet over its head. It didn¡¯t look good. ¡°Wait!¡± Myra shouted just as the girl¡¯s eyes widened, and the purple woman knew the girl was just moments from screaming her pretty little head off. ¡°We can talk about this!¡± The girl hesitated for just a moment and Myra took the opportunity. ¡°Money. I can give you money.¡± She said fishing in her pocket for her wallet and pulling out a bundle of bills. ¡°See? Three hundred dollars and you pretend you didn¡¯t see anything.¡± That was good money. More than enough to make most gangster look the other way. Especially for something as minor as an ally doing a little snooping. ¡°See Spit? A little deal between you and me. You make some cash, and I don¡¯t get in trouble with your boss.¡± The girl¡¯s eyes flitted between the pad and the money, and Myra knew she was thinking about it. It was probably more cash than the girl had ever seen in her life, even with Erich now paying them. It¡¯s not like he pays them a lot, Myra mused as she waited for the girl to accept. A moment passed. Then another. Just long enough for Myra to start wondering if she¡¯d misread the situation when the girl finally mumbled something. ¡°Sorry sweetie, what was that?¡± Myra asked kindly as she inched ever so slightly forward. Spit¡¯s downcast eyes finally looked back up, staring into Myra¡¯s own with the sort of temerity that actually took Myra aback. Street rats didn¡¯t have eyes like that. ¡°My name¡¯s Cassandra,¡± the girl spat. Then she started screaming. Chapter Fifty Three Who would win? Erich thought irritably as he stepped over the sparking remains of one of his Helots, children scattering out of his way as he marched toward the latest problem to prop up. A horde of hastily armed street children and dirt-cheap security drones or one angry woman? Given that said woman was a particularly powerful bruiser, the answer was obvious. As it should have been to just about anyone who¡¯s ever seen a bruiser in action, Erich thought as he glared at the remains of a Helot that had somehow become lodged in the ceiling. That¡¯s going to be a pain to get down¡­ It had certainly been obvious to him. Not this particular scenario, but one like it. Which was why he had taken precautions. Specifically, a protocol that would come into effect in the event that a sufficient number of Helots were ever taken offline within the confines of his little ¡®domain¡¯. ¡°Hey Erich,¡± Myra called from her position chained to a metal support beam, her skin a much more mottled shade of purple than usual. ¡°You¡¯ve been holding out on me.¡± ¡°I suppose I have,¡± Erich said as he glanced at the good dozen Spartoi MK Two¡¯s standing sentinel over the woman, weapons ready and primed. He could smell the tangy scent of ozone and burnt skin that accompanied laser fire. He left the drones where they were. They were likely the only thing holding the Meta in place. He knew the chains certainly wouldn¡¯t do it if the woman decided she wanted to leave. And even if they did hold, that support beam certainly wouldn¡¯t, he thought glibly. ¡°A secret army of drones,¡± Myra grinned, showing bloody teeth. ¡°I¡¯ve spent months trying to find whatever little scheme you and that blonde bitch have been cooking up. Skulking around. Digging through your drawers. Talking to your munchkins.¡± She sighed. ¡°Should have known I wasn¡¯t cut out for this spy shit. Should have just started smashing stuff from the beginning, because that brought them to light pretty quick.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Erich drawled, gesturing at her current condition, ¡°because that has clearly worked out so well for you.¡± The woman shrugged, utterly unabashed. ¡°Wasn¡¯t exactly planned. One of your munchkins caught me in the act and refused to accept a bribe. Downright unnatural that. Then she started yelling, and it all went to shit from there.¡± ¡°Which one?¡± The bruiser inclined her head to where Cassandra was standing, a small group of hastily armed street urchins stood around her. Erich was surprised, though his mask served to hide it. ¡°She¡¯s still alive.¡± All of the kids that had taken part in the battle were. Many of them in great pain, nursing massive bruises or broken bones, but alive. Which was more than most people who were dumb enough to get in the way of a rampaging bruiser could say. It was certainly better than most of his Drones could say. Not even the MK Twos had escaped the woman¡¯s wrath unscathed. One of the units stood over her was missing an arm, and he could see the another one on the floor with its chest caved in. No doubt a few more were scattered about the place. Or in several places, he thought as he noted a twitching robotic leg lying on the floor. So yes, it seemed that Myra had gone out of her way to avoid killing any of his workers. Myra scowled. ¡°I¡¯m a great many things, but I¡¯m not a kid killer.¡± Erich cocked his head. That statement was blatantly untrue. He barely took part in the fighting, and he knew he had more than his fair share of blood from individuals who had yet to reach their majority on his hands. It was just the nature of Portland. Child soldier wasn¡¯t even really a word here. They were just soldiers. Still, as he thought on it, he supposed a woman who was bulletproof might be able to be a bit more discriminating on the battlefield. Yet another perk of being a Meta I suppose, he thought with a hint of bitterness he tried not to read too far into. ¡°Why did she send you?¡± He asked, changing the subject. ¡°I¡¯m always here,¡± Myra scoffed. ¡°That you are,¡± Erich said, ¡°but I always assumed you were just the visible part of the spectrum. You show up, be distracting. Zig-zag shows up looking like one of my employees and does the real snooping.¡±If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Myra grinned, before shrugging. ¡°Who knows? Maybe that is the case? Maybe our mutual boss is here right now.¡± This time it was Erich¡¯s turn to scoff. The King¡¯s were done; rather anti-climactically if he was honest. While the leadership of the Kings had Manacle in more of a ¡®first amongst equals¡¯ position, his loss had still resulted in a domino effect. Last he¡¯d hear squabbles had erupted between the other metas of the gang as some seceded while others tried to take control. Which in turn had brought in other gangs, hoping to grab as much territory as possible while organization imploded. Business as usual as far as Portland was concerned. Easy come easy go. And with the King¡¯s disappearance, his, Bronte¡¯s and Zig-zag¡¯s mutual goal of surviving the group¡¯s expansion had come to an end. Just as they had all always known it would. Though I doubt anyone expected this little split to end up in a three-way ¨C least of all me. ¡°Zig-zag¡¯s not here,¡± Erich said dispassionately. ¡°Oh, and how would you know that?¡± The purple bruise murmured, more curious than afraid. Erich shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s for me to know and you to never find out.¡± Though it would be easy enough to figure out if you stopped to think for a few seconds. Zig-zag herself had clued him into it when they¡¯d first met by telling him that their transformations were a result of conscious thought. From there, a method of defeating it was simple enough, albeit just as easy for Zig-zag to remove if they ever became aware of it. Hence my desire not to blab about it. Myra grinned again. ¡°Fine, keep your secrets. God knows you¡¯ve got enough of them.¡± ¡°Quite,¡± Erich said. ¡°Though I note you¡¯ve still not answered my question.¡± ¡°Why, you going to torture it out of me if I don¡¯t?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The word came easily, and Erich didn¡¯t know whether it was to his credit or not that he hesitated for just a second before answering. ¡°Fucking stone cold,¡± Myra said, apparently not at all phased by the prospect of torture. Perhaps she doesn¡¯t think I¡¯m serious? One of his metallic tentacles had just started to reach for a power drill when Myra spoke again. ¡°Alright, alright.¡± Myra said, ¡°no need to get your robotic garters in a twist. I sure as shit don¡¯t love that gender bent wierdo enough to take a drill to the eye.¡± The eye? Why did she think he was going to shove it through her eye? Much too wasteful. In all honesty, ghastly as the situation was, a part of him had been slightly curious to know just how much punishment Prowler¡¯s skin could take. If he was going to do something that awful, it only made sense to get the most benefit out of it he could. ¡°Why are you the one spying on me rather than Zig-zag?¡± He reiterated. Myra sagged in her chains slightly, ¡°does anyone else have free access to your office?¡± Erich pondered the question for a second. ¡°No, only you.¡± Then his eyes narrowed in realization. ¡°And only because you kept breaking in and trashing the drone on guard in the process. In the end I figured it was easier to make an exception for you rather than replace it each time.¡± Though he had put in some fairly stringent criteria on what the woman could do while she was in there before the drone would act to stop her. ¡°I assume that was on purpose,¡± he continued. ¡°Annoying me into making that exception?¡± Myra¡¯s shit eating grin was all the answer he needed, and despite himself, he was impressed. He hadn¡¯t thought Myra was capable of that kind of long term planning or manipulation. Which now that I think about it, might just be an indicator of how good she is at it. Idly Erich found himself wondering how much of the woman¡¯s audacious and blunt personality was real and how much was a fa?ade. Then his mind twigged onto an earlier comment. ¡°You said one of my ¡®munchkins¡¯ caught you. Why not the drone?¡± ¡°She put a sheet over it!¡± Erich¡¯s mask whipped round towards the voice that had spoken. Cassandra stood, slightly apart from her peers, drill in hand, and armed with a venomous glare he hadn¡¯t known the quiet young woman was capable of. Fortunately, it was aimed at their captive Bruiser rather than himself. ¡°A sheet?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± the girl nodded. ¡°She draped it over the Spartoi¡¯s eyes so that it couldn¡¯t see what she was doing. Erich¡¯s mind shuddered to a jarring stop. ¡­Surely that wouldn¡¯t¡­ Surely the drone would¡­ It couldn¡¯t be that¡­ Erich slumped in his suit as he racked his brain for any part of the machine¡¯s programming that would cover such an act and came up empty. ¡­Yes. She definitely could do that. Stupid as it was. This was why even someone as asocial as him needed to include people in his organization, rather than filling it with just machines. Machines just weren¡¯t¡­ adaptable. And as more than one would be supervillain had discovered over the years, they often had pretty major blindspots. Erich put that entire debacle from his mind as he returned to figuring out why Myra was present when she worked for a shapeshifter. ¡°Zig-zag can¡¯t change their mass.¡± He murmured as realization hit him. ¡°Which means that certain body types are beyond them. They couldn¡¯t pretend to be you, you¡¯re too big - so you had to come yourself.¡± ¡°Did you just call me fat!?¡± ¡°I called you a seven foot mass of muscle!¡± He shouted back, not deigning to look at the woman who had apparently gotten around his advanced technology via the delicate application of a sheet of thin fabric. ¡°Which your dainty leader most certainly is not.¡± Tendency to turn into a writhing mass of horrific tentacles notwithstanding. Given that they could do that though, he couldn¡¯t imagine they would have any difficulty packing on some extra weight and height to allow for a wider range of transformations? So why wouldn¡¯t they? It took him a few seconds to reach a conclusion. And most of that time occurred because he dismissed it the first time for being stupid. The answer was as obvious as it was idiotic. Vanity. Well, now he had his answers. Why then do I feel angrier and more exhausted than when I walked in here to find my workshop trashed? ¡°You stay there!¡± He shouted, aiming a finger at Prowler; realizing just how stupid that was given the circumstances as her face lit up with poorly concealed mirth at his comment. Ignoring that, he turned to the crowd of gathered workers, picking his ¡®lieutenants out of the waiting crowd. ¡°Cassandra, Darius and Ethan with me.¡± He said, marching up to his office ¨C which, while missing a wall, still had a desk and a chair, both of which ne needed. Slumping into said chair, he turned to pin his trio of underlings with a glare. ¡°First of all, where¡¯s Natasha?¡± He hadn¡¯t really thought of her as a leader at first, but given how hard she¡¯d argued for it, he¡¯d given in. Hence his irritation that she wasn¡¯t present now. Darius stepped forward, ¡°She, uh, broke her arm during the fighting. She also might have a concussion.¡± Erich cocked an eyebrow under his mask. ¡°How?¡± Ethan answered that. ¡°Little idiot tried to stab our unexpected guest downstairs with a spanner. Got a backhand across the room for her efforts.¡± Erich sighed, unsure whether to be impressed or exacerbated. ¡°Right, I guess we¡¯ll begin without her.¡± Turning towards Ethan now that the man had handily brought himself forward, Erich asked the question that had been bothering from the moment he had returned to the compound. ¡°Where the fuck are all my Saints? The ones that are supposed by guarding this place?¡± Chapter Fifty Four
I have an organization of fence sitters, Erich thought furiously as he strode through the halls of Habitation Block A. The second his guards had seen that it was Prowler attacking ¨C and not some other gang ¨C they¡¯d effectively scarpered, choosing not to get involved. It really shouldn¡¯t have surprised him. Apparently, the big appeal of working for him was that it allowed them to stay out of the brewing pissing match between Zig-Zag and Bronte. Something that Erich had failed to take into account when he¡¯d decided to throw his hat into the ring. So I¡¯ve effectively lost a third of my combat strength before the first fight, the engineer grumbled nearly ploughing down a small child before it hastily skipped out of his path. Erich barely noticed, as his eyes alighted on his destination. He wasted no time before stepping into the room, his HUD helpfully placing a reticule over his target amongst the myriad other occupied beds. Erich had certainly not included an infirmary in his designs for the Habitation Block, but it seemed that Natasha had wasted no time in converting one of the dorms to suit that purpose after he¡¯d designated her the leader of his ¡®medical wing¡¯. A ridiculously ostentatious name for a group who for the most part lacked even barely adequate first-aid training, but like a hundred other things he¡¯d created over the past year, he hoped they would eventually grow into it. ¡°Trying to stab a rampaging Bruiser with a spanner was not wise,¡± he said without preamble. Natasha¡¯s ¨C poorly ¨C bandaged head slowly swivelled in the supervillain¡¯s direction. ¡°Gee boss, thanks for the kind words for your wounded minion. A minion who was wounded trying to save your workshop I might add.¡± Erich snorted, both irritated and relieved to see that not even a head injury had seen fit to knock the irreverent attitude from his most precocious underling. ¡°If at any point any of my facilities require the intervention of a spanner wielding child to keep them from destruction, they deserve to be destroyed.¡± Natasha scowled for a few moments, before her indignant fa?ade crumbled. ¡°It was pretty dumb, wasn¡¯t it?¡± She chuckled humourlessly. ¡°Without a doubt,¡± Erich nodded, before hesitating slightly. ¡°¡­Still, it was also ¨C for a given definition ¨C brave,¡± he muttered as he pulled a package out from within his cloak. ¡°To that end, I have decided a reward is in order.¡± The girl tried to hide it, but he didn¡¯t miss the way her eyes lit up as he placed the unassuming brown package on her bed. Nor that way the many bandaged and blatantly eavesdropping children around the room leaned forward with interest. Truth be told, he didn¡¯t care. This entire thing was a farce. Rewarding stupidity? He thought, what a ridiculous notion. Still, Ethan had been most insistent that a reward was called for in this instance, and not a rebuke. Or at least, not just a rebuke. And despite of the man¡¯s recent fuck-up in regards to the reliability of his adult contingent, he did have some measure of insight into the minds of the children under Erich¡¯s command. ¡°You finally got them working?¡± Natasha said, her voice heavy with an emotion he couldn¡¯t identify, as she gently pulled the set of four metallic fingers from the shredded remains of the packaging. Erich shrugged. ¡°For a given definition of working,¡± he said. ¡°The prosthetic¡¯s ability to sense tactile or thermal sensation is near non-existent, and as such their ability to perform delicate tasks is equally compromised¡­¡± He trailed off as he saw the girl was barely listening. ¡°They¡¯ll do for now,¡± he finished with a sigh, ignoring the way the girl was all but ignoring him as she cradled the things to her chest. It¡¯s fine, he supposed. The girl is still developing so a series of replacements would have been obligated anyway as she slowly grew. That was not something he was looking forward to. Making dozens of prosthesis for different stages of development. Maybe he would make them transferable? As soon as someone outgrew their own prosthesis, they could pass it on. That would surely cut down on the numbers needed. No, injuries aren¡¯t standardised, so that would be impractical. Unless he started to standardise the injuries themselves? Make fingers. Hands. Arms. Feet. Legs. Missing half an arm? A hand? A leg? Might as well take off the rest of it for ease of new prosthesis application, he thought. Yes, that would make sense. Problem solved; Erich found himself smiling as he turned to leave. He was halfway out the door when a small voice stopped him. It was quiet. So much so that his suit had to compensate by boosting the audio. Still, he heard it loud and clear. ¡°Thank you.¡± He paused, a strange sensation rising in his chest. ¡°¡­You¡¯re welcome.¡± Then he left. Quickly.
Erich was pondering over what to with the ¡®Prowler Situation¡¯ - while simultaneously directing bands of roving repair children - when his HUD alerted him to an incoming call. His first instinct was to ignore it, one which he only barely managed to reign in when he saw just who it was that was calling. ¡°What?¡± He said as he finally bit the bullet and answered.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Now, now,¡± Bronte¡¯s husky voice filtered out through his speakers. ¡°Is that anyone way to speak to your boss?¡± ¡°Last I checked, that particular dynamic was no longer applicable to our relationship,¡± the engineer scoffed as he used his mechandrites to lift a downed Helot that a far too young child was struggling with. ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know about that,¡± Bronte chuckled. ¡°Last I heard, you and Zig-Zag are on the outs.¡± Erich didn¡¯t bother asking where she¡¯d heard that. Criminal organizations were sieves of knowledge, and even his was no exception on that front. ¡°Maybe.¡± Erich shrugged as he dumped the wreck Helot onto a passing trolley already piled high with damaged drones and equipment. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t really change my stance on you.¡± The incident that had caused the break in their relationship might have been minor in the grand scheme of things, but in Erich¡¯s mind it was emblematic of a larger problem. Bronte needed to be in control. He could have lived with that. His only concern was his workshop. Bronte was also dangerously unstable ¨C though if she¡¯d always been that way and he¡¯d never noticed, or it was a new development, he didn¡¯t know. That he couldn¡¯t live with. He had no interest in working under an unstable supervillain with control issues, not when he could apparently run an organization just fine by himself. Hell, he was doing it right now, and he hadn¡¯t totally ruined it yet, he thought as he looked at his many workers scurrying around him. Though he tactfully ignored that fact that they were in the process of cleaning up wreckage. His organization was fine. He needed and wanted no oversight. ¡°The Block Party,¡± and he realized that was the first time using the group¡¯s ridiculous name, ¡°needs no help.¡± He half expected that statement to set the woman off. Which was why he felt a shiver go up his spine as the villainess just chuckled. ¡°I don¡¯t know about that,¡± she said. ¡°Maybe you should give that Artificer pal of yours a call? I know you need her help. Specially if you want to keep all your toys working.¡± Then she hung up. ¡°¡­Shit.¡± Erich murmured as he looked at the ended call sign. It took him all of a few seconds before he input Overdrive¡¯s contact details into his communicator; and while Erich was usually a man who appreciated promptness, he couldn¡¯t help but feel a slight nagging sense of worry when Overdrive picked up the call before the second ring. A sensation that was immediately vindicated when Overdrive immediately started yelling in his ear. ¡°It¡¯s gone!¡± The woman screamed, prompting Erich to wince and franticly dial down the volume on his speakers. ¡°My car. The tech. Your little anti-listening thingy. My car!¡± Erich wasn¡¯t stupid, so he didn¡¯t waste time with stupid questions. ¡°Who took the tech?¡± ¡®How to Make Friends and Influence People¡¯ had suggested adopting a calming presence in high stress situations so as to allow others to emulate it and solve the problem at hand. ¡®How to Make Friends and Influence People¡¯ was also apparently full of shit, because Overdrive didn¡¯t calm down at all. ¡°The Dome,¡± the racer shrieked. ¡°A bunch of officials in suits busted down the door a few minutes ago and took all my stuff.¡± ¡°Did they give a reason?¡± Erich asked, trying to stay calm himself. ¡°¡¯Outside Interference¡¯¡± Overdrive said in the tone of someone who was quoting another. ¡°Some shit about receiving outside help ¡®being contrary to the spirit of competition that the Dome seeks to cultivate amongst its competitors¡¯. Total horseshit.¡± Yes it was. Gladiators received outside assistance all the time - in the form of monetary compensation or raw materials rather than tech. Either for advertising space within the dome, or favours in the event a Gladiator managed to win their way to freedom. The big omission from the list of allowed materials was actual technology. Presumably to stop a powerful Artificer from creating the sort of arrangement he had developed with Overdrive. Hence why he had gone out of his way to jam any listening devices coming to and from the area and demanded that any components Overdrive supplied him with were small enough for him to smuggle out in his suit. I also had to pretend those visits were of a¡­ conjugal nature. That had galled him for reasons he wasn¡¯t entirely sure he wanted to read into. ¡°Someone must have tipped them off as to the nature of our arrangement,¡± he concluded, already knowing exactly who. ¡°No shit,¡± Overdrive spat back. ¡°Or maybe they noticed I went from being close to last in every race to number one.¡± Erich rolled his eyes. What did she want him to do? Make an inferior product that he gradually scaled up¡­ In retrospect, he should have done exactly that, but the excitement of working on the project had gotten away from him. ¡°You didn¡¯t exactly complain!¡± He shot back, earning an indignant squawk from the redheaded woman on the other end of the phone. He mentally tuned out the accompanying tirade as he started considering his options now that his supply line in the form of Overdrive had been cut. Could he contact another Dome gladiator? No, my name¡¯s already known. I¡¯d be receiving far greater scrutiny if I contacted a different Artificer. Could he survive without Overdrive¡¯s input? Hell no. Not a chance in hell. He needed Overdrive. Or someone like her. Her contributions of Meta tech were an integral part of his industrial base. Sure, he could build Helots and other more conventional tech without her, but it was his Meta products and weapons that formed the solid core of his armed forces and product lines. Helots might have been fine for things like guard duty and light engagement, but as the events of last night had proven, when put up against real power they crumpled without resistance. Not to mention his suit! Repairs. Maintenance. Upgrades. The list goes on. Power armour was not cheap. In time or material. Without a supply of Meta-tech parts Erich figured he might get a single fight in the machine before it was rendered defunct. Not acceptable. Not acceptable at all. To be honest, when he¡¯d started picking up kids for his workshops, part of him had hoped one of them might have an event, allowing him access to another Meta. Hell, I didn¡¯t even argue all that much about personal protective equipment in the hope that losing a finger or any eye might set one off. Sadly, reality was not so convenient, and he wasn¡¯t about to start intentionally trying to create new Metas. He¡¯d been down that road himself, and he knew from experience that it did not engender loyalty to the provider of those powers. If it even works, he thought with a hint of bitterness. It was an old tired thing, but it flared up anyway as his thoughts turned to his own childhood. Fortunately, the gradual cutting off of Overdrive¡¯s stressed out tirade brought him back to reality. My very shitty reality. ¡°So what do we do now?¡± Overdrive finally said, sounding just as tired and lost as he felt. Erich didn¡¯t know. He honestly didn¡¯t. With almost contemptuous ease Bronte had killed his faction. I suppose that¡¯s the difference between a professional schemer and a dabbler, he thought with a hint of black humour. It was obvious what her goal was. Bringing back in line. Cutting off his ability to split from her. And I¡¯ve got no doubt I¡¯m going have a whole bundle of ¡®babysitters¡¯ if I do go back to her. She¡¯d dismantle the Block Party for sure. Even if he surrendered to her totally, she wouldn¡¯t allow an organization so obviously loyal to him to continue to exist. No, she¡¯d destroy it outright. The thought was more offensive to him than he thought. Even more so than the loss of his freedom. Am I going soft? God forbid he felt any kind of affection for the horde of little monsters that infested his workshops. The very thought sent a shudder up his spine. It won¡¯t be too bad, he tried to reason. If she¡¯s trying to bring you back in then it means she has access to her own supply of Meta tech. And he had a good idea where ¨C and it sure as shit wasn¡¯t an old cache of Hardlight¡¯s stuff, even if he was sure she would try and sell it to him as such. ¡°I guess you don¡¯t know then?¡± Clearly he¡¯d taken too long to speak, because Overdrive had taken his silence as an answer. Which it was, he supposed. To his surprise, she didn¡¯t sound angry. Just tired. Defeated. ¡°Shit.¡± The woman said, effectively summing up the situation. ¡°And here I thought I might get free. Shouldn¡¯t have hoped. Just leads to disappointment round here.¡± Erich had no interest in hearing the lamentations of a dead woman. He had his own problems. She had nothing to offer him anymore, and he her. He was just reaching over to cut off the call when he heard her last words. ¡°Guess neither of us are escaping our collars, are we?¡± The words struck him like a lightning bolt. He started to walk towards his office. ¡°I¡¯ll call you back. We might not be totally fucked after all.¡± ¡°Wait, wha-¡± He cut the call off. The Mechromancer wasn¡¯t done yet. The Block Party wasn¡¯t done yet. Chapter Fifty Five ¡°Where¡¯s Prowler?¡± Erich shouldn¡¯t have been surprised that those were the first words out of Zig-Zag¡¯s mouth the moment he stepped into the venue for their meeting. Fortunately, said venue was owned by the Dome so the venom that accompanied that question was only mildly concerning rather than outright terrifying. ¡°She¡¯s around,¡± he said casually as he stepped over to take a seat. ¡°The loss of Zig-Zag¡¯s purple cunt aside, why are we here?¡± Bronte asked from her position lounging in her chair. A reasonably spectacular feat considering their choice of meeting place was one of the Dome¡¯s stadiums, and thus the cheap plastic chairs that made up the place¡¯s seating was not exactly designed with lounging in mind. No, that was reserved for the private boxes, and even though the arena was currently empty, the Saints didn¡¯t have the kind of political capital required to secure a meeting there. No, they were relegated to talking in the bleachers like a bunch of irate fans. Not that Erich particularly cared. It was the Dome¡¯s reputation he needed. He was just happy that he could talk with his fellow leaders without fear of one of them trying to perforate him. Not that he really expected such from Bronte. As far as she was concerned, she had him by the balls. ¡°We¡¯re here because we all have a mutual problem; each other.¡± Bronte frowned at that, but Zig-Zag nodded vehemently. ¡°You can fucking say that again,¡± the man-woman spat. ¡°I brought on you people to help my group survive the Kings and I¡¯ve fucking regretted it ever since.¡± Bronte just shrugged. ¡°You survived didn¡¯t you? Because of me.¡± I¡¯d like to think that me being sent on a suicide mission and accidentally killing Manacle was the defining factor, but whatever. Zig-Zag glared at the lightning user. ¡°I might have survived, but now my gang is split into three pieces. If I¡¯d wanted that to happen, I would have just joined up with the King¡¯s rather than try to fight them.¡± ¡°Well perhaps if your leadership wasn¡¯t so inept, your people might not be so eager to jump ship.¡± Bronte grinned, her scarred features creasing garishly. ¡°So, you¡¯re finally ready to admit that you¡¯re trying to take over,¡± Zig-Zag shit back. ¡°Trying to? ¡°Right, as fascinating as who wronged who might be,¡± Erich interrupted before the meeting could devolve into name calling. Again. ¡°I didn¡¯t call you here to discuss the state of our ongoing¡­ disagreement.¡± Zig-Zag¡¯s enraged eyes swung back to him. ¡°No, you called this meeting to explain why you apparently had an army of drones hidden under your factory, and what the fuck you¡¯ve done with my lieutenant.¡± Erich coughed, taken a little off guard by the fact that the shapeshifter already knew about his little secret project. He really shouldn¡¯t have been. His drones had not been subtle when they¡¯d deployed to take down Myra. Sarah had known within minutes after all, and he doubted a shapeshifter¡¯s information network was in anyway inferior. Hell, they might have been in the building when it went down.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°Right, as I was saying, we all have a mutual problem in each other,¡± he continued. ¡°None of us want to work under the others, but unfortunately none of us are strong enough to take our chunk of forces and leave.¡± Or kill the others, went unsaid. The other gangs would be all over them. Just like what was happening with the Kings. A house divided cannot stand, and all that bullshit, Erich thought. Zig-Zag nodded reluctantly, but now Bronte was glaring suspiciously at him. Understandable, given that she was currently set to win their little showdown. ¡°Which is why I¡¯ve come to an arrangement with the dome,¡± he said, passing each of them an Omni-Pad. Zig-Zag almost eagerly grabbed hers, but Bronte continued to glare suspiciously before accepting the proffered device. Silence fell over the trio as the pair of villains mulled over the contents of the pads. In the end, Zig-Zag was the first to speak. ¡°This is insane.¡± The shapeshifter laughed. ¡°Sure, it might give us enough firepower to let us split from each other without getting dogpiled by the other gangs, but it can¡¯t be done. Hell, how the fuck did you even get the Dome to agree to this?¡± Erich frowned, but answered. ¡°I revealed to them certain details of my origins that convinced them that I had the skillset required to pull such a plan off.¡± From the corner of his eye, he saw Bronte stiffen slightly. Which I suppose confirms that Hard-Light shared my origins with her, he thought. Or that she was the one to uncover them in the first place. ¡°Skillset?¡± Zig-Zag cackled, drawing his attention back to them. ¡°Now, I get that you¡¯re a talented engineer, even if I think the whole ¡®non-meta¡¯ thing is horseshit. But this? Do you have any idea how many times people have attempted to perform a breakout since the ¡®ball and chain¡¯ came out?¡± ¡°Fourteen.¡± Erich responded from memory. ¡°Each a total failure that resulted in the death of any prisoner that attempted to leave the premises.¡± Totalling one hundred and twelve dead prisoners over a ten-year period. Still, the system worked. The days of villains treating the prison system as a revolving door were a thing of the past. ¡°Exactly,¡± Zig-Zag said, taken a little off guard. They likely hadn¡¯t known the exact number themselves. Either way, they rallied quickly. ¡°Fourteen failed attempts. So how the fuck did you ¨C a nobody ¨C manage to convince the motherfucking Dome to lend out their precious teleporter for this little breakout plan of yours?¡± Erich shrugged. ¡°As I said, I revealed certain details of my origins. Origins that meant I have some¡­ peripheral experience with the ball and chain system.¡± ¡°What did you offer them, Erich?¡± Bronte spoke up for the first time since he¡¯d unveiled the deal he¡¯d cut with the Dome. ¡°Forty three Metas for the games. Which according to publicly available statistics, should be the amount that remains after we have taken three individuals each for ourselves,¡± Erich grunted. ¡°Assuming everything goes to plan.¡± ¡°Fat fucking chance of that,¡± Zig-Zag snorted. ¡°Hellbound Prison? It ain¡¯t exactly Fort Knox, but it ain¡¯t far off either.¡± Erich shook his head. ¡°I think you will find Hellbound to be less of a challenge than you might expect. As you said earlier, the ball and chain system has made staging a breakout almost unthinkable to the modern villain. As a result, federal authorities have reduced the number on site security personnel with each passing year. Most of the onsite security is automated now.¡± ¡°How would you know that?¡± Bronte chimed in as she continued to read over the proposed plan. ¡°A peripheral web search.¡± Erich shrugged. ¡°In the last attempted breakout, the only casualties reported came from prisoners attempting to leave the prison. None of the attackers were captured, having escaped once it became clear that they could not effectively circumvent the ball and chain before local hero teams arrived. No casualties amongst prison staff either, but the report mentioned extensive damage.¡± Which meant drones rather than flesh and blood defenders. Zig-Zag hummed, no doubt coming to the same conclusion. ¡°What did you offer them, Erich?¡± Bronte¡¯s question brought a frown to his face. ¡°I already told you. The bulk of whatever prisoners we manage to free?¡± The villainess was undeterred. ¡°That¡¯s what you offered if we succeed,¡± Bronte said. ¡°That¡¯s a gamble. I know the Dome. They don¡¯t gamble. The number of gladiators who¡¯ve actually managed to win their freedom from this dump could tell you that much. So tell me? What did you offer them?¡± Erich hissed through gritted teeth as Zig-Zag¡¯s interest in the offer gave way to curiosity about the price. ¡°Myra,¡± he said finally. ¡°You what-¡± Erich cut in before Zig-Zag could get a full head of steam going. ¡°I gave them Myra to get them to agree to send us. The prisoners are the cost of bringing us back.¡± ¡°And in the event that your ¡®spectacular inside knowledge¡¯ of the ball and chain doesn¡¯t work out?¡± The blond prompted. ¡°Then they get me as well,¡± Erich finally admitted. ¡°I¡¯ll be in debt to the Dome to the price of ten million; to be paid off in the arena.¡± Chapter Fifty Six ¡°You sold our friend into slavery!?¡± Erich sighed, resisting the urge to drop the call out of sheer force of will. Instead he turned his mind back to the disassembled laser rifle sitting on his desk as he responded. ¡°Hello Gravity, long time no see. How are things with you?¡± Perhaps his lackadaisical approach might not have been the wisest decision, but his patience for his old friend was at an all time low. ¡°Cut the shit, Erich,¡± the woman spat back. ¡°I just found out you sold Myra off to the Dome.¡± Erich frowned as he found the root of the problem he was looking for. A cracked focusing lens. ¡°I needed collateral,¡± he sighed. ¡°The Dome needed some sort of payment if they were going to even consider my harebrained scheme.¡± Hell, he was only considering it because he was desperate. Same for Zig-Zag. Sarah though? Bronte¡¯s just greedy like that, he thought as he considered the latest titbits of information he¡¯d managed to derive from his watchdog programs. From everything he¡¯d seen, she seemed inclined to agree to his plan; the lure of acquiring three ¨C or more ¨C new Meta underlings too strong for her to resist. Which was kind of the point, he thought wryly. ¡°How could you?¡± Gravity hissed, drawing him from his musings. ¡°It was actually easier than you¡¯d think. I just had one of my underlings walk up to her and spray her in the face with a concentrated chloroform solution.¡± Admittedly, he¡¯d had to make sure the bruiser didn¡¯t swallow her tongue while he affixed the explosive collar to her neck, but his back tentacles had been up to the task. I really do need to come up with a better name than ¡®back tentacles¡¯. He mused as he set about swapping the faulty part. Perhaps ¡®artificial limbs¡¯? The underling who¡¯d performed the drugging had unfortunately been killed in the process ¨C via a final woozy handcuff shattering punch from the Bruiser, before she¡¯d succumbed to his chemical cocktail - but Erich hadn¡¯t been too concerned about that. The man had been one of the Saints who¡¯d chosen to bail rather than take a side in the brewing conflict between him and Bronte. Erich had no use for defective parts, so it was no great loss. He¡¯d already written off the goons he did have as combat ineffective. Those goons who had sided with him had done so entirely superficially. The initial allure of joining him had more been his position outside the conflict between Zig-Zag and Bronte. Which meant that his sudden recruitment drive and decision to enter the fight in full had ironically hurt his position more than benefited it as more and more of his converts slipped back to the ¡®better known¡¯ leaders that were Bronte and Zig-Zag. Perhaps he might have convinced them to stay, by leveraging his ability to provide better equipment, or even his own combat ability, but at the end of the day he¡¯d decided against it. What use were soldiers that only performed when victory was assured? No, he¡¯d sooner aim his efforts elsewhere, and use up his dwindling Saint support base while he still had it. Eventually he¡¯d be down to just the die-hard core of his supporters, at which point he could see about properly utilizing them once more.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Until then he was down to his drones and the Block Party. ¡°No, that wasn¡¯t what I was asking,¡± Gravity continued, once more drawing him back to the conversation and away from the nuances of gang politics. ¡°I¡¯m asking you how you could, as a person, sell one of your only friends into a life of slavery?¡± ¡°Easily.¡± Myra had made her choice and she¡¯d picked her side. A part of him had hoped she might eventually side with him, but it seemed that for whatever reason, her loyalty had ultimately been to Zig-Zag. Silence reigned over the line. ¡°I¡¯m disappointed, Erich,¡± she said finally. ¡°Bronte told me to tell you that she¡¯s in. She¡¯ll meet you with her team at the designated spot.¡± Erich held his breath until he heard the tell-tale click of the woman ending the call. ¡°Son of a bitch!¡± He swore flinging the recently repaired gun against the wall. Of course, as satisfying as it might have been to watch the thing shatter into a hundred pieces, he was a better engineer than that. Instead the thing simply bounced off the concrete and clattered to the floor. Not that Erich really noticed as he ranted and raved. ¡°You¡¯re disappointed? You¡¯re disappointed!? You two-timing backstabbing-¡± His burgeoning rant was cut off by a delicate, almost tentative knock on his door. ¡°You ok in there, uh, boss?¡± As quickly as the white-hot flash of anger came it dissipated at the sound of the worried voice. It was young, likely just entering or on the verge of pubescence. One of my ¡®guards¡¯ then. A recent addition to his roster, was the role of overseeing the drones and making sure that another ¡®bedsheet situation¡¯ didn¡¯t occur. Considering the positions only task was to apply the common sense of a five year old to the machines, the role was often given to the younger members of his organization by the older - as much as a way to keep the youngest out of the way as anything else. ¡°I¡¯m- I¡¯m fine,¡± he said finally. ¡°Just¡­ made a mistake working on one of my projects.¡± ¡°Oh¡­¡± The voice responded. ¡°Is¡­ Is there anything I can do to help. The other kids don¡¯t let me work on the robots much, but I¡¯ve got to help sometimes.¡± Erich resisted the urge to laugh. The very idea of him needing the help of one of his underlings? It was almost offensive. Still, the offer of help had been a show of initiative, and the book had suggested that he reward that. ¡°No, I¡¯ll be fine,¡± he said walking over to pickup the discarded weapon. ¡°You just keep watching the door. You¡­ You¡¯re doing a good job.¡± ¡°Oh, ok!¡± Once upon a time, Erich might have missed it, but these days he tried to pay better attention to the nuances of what his people were and weren¡¯t saying. Which was why he couldn¡¯t help but hear the pride and happiness in the kid¡¯s voice as they responded to his praise. For some reason, he felt his frown lessening slightly as he returned to his desk, his dextrous artificial limbs cracking open the gun once more as he checked to see if his rash actions had caused any internal damage to the delicate device. At the very least, as he continued to work, he didn¡¯t feel quite as alone as he had just a minute prior.
¡°Son of a bitch!¡± Gravity hissed as she slammed the phone down, drawing a startled glance from the only other occupant of the room. Grace didn¡¯t say anything though. The former street rat turned shop-keep turned Gravity¡¯s assistant tended to get even quieter than normal when voices were raised. The girl would just sit in frozen silence, as if waiting for whatever disagreement was occurring to pass. Normally the sight of the girl sitting in silence was enough to cut Gravity¡¯s foul moods short; or at least prompt her to vent her emotions elsewhere. Not in this case though. ¡°What the fuck is wrong with him?¡± Gravity ranted as she paced around the small apartment the two of them shared. ¡°The Dome? The fucking Dome!?¡± Grace predictably gave no answer to her question. ¡°He can¡¯t just- We don¡¯t just sell people - our friends ¨C off to be gladiators for a quick buck.¡± The woman continued. ¡°I- I need to call someone. Stay here and don¡¯t open the door.¡± Gravity said without looking back as she stepped into her room. Grace watched her go without saying a word, even if inwardly she couldn¡¯t help but roll her eyes at the older woman¡¯s well meaning advice. Well meaning, but blatantly obvious advice. Even Grace, kept as far away as Gravity could get her from the ranks and file of the Saints knew about the current split in the ranks. And even the apartment block they were dwelling in was firmly in Bronte¡¯s camp, that didn¡¯t guarantee that everyone was a friend. Hell, even if they were, Grace wouldn¡¯t let them in. The Saints might not have been the worst gang around, but they definitely didn¡¯t live up to their namesake. She¡¯d run from people clad in white and yellow just as often as she¡¯d run from people in purple, red or half a dozen other colours. She was also wasn¡¯t stupid. She was well aware that Gravity was in contact with someone she shouldn¡¯t be. The late-night phone calls and frantic texts. Whatever her roommate was doing, it clearly wasn¡¯t in the interests of anyone clad in white or yellow. She was also well aware that Gravity was probably even now trying to contact that person. Not that any of that mattered to Grace. Even as she heard yelling through the thin walls of the apartment, she intentionally tuned it out. So long as she had a roof, a bed, and food in her belly, nothing else mattered. Chapter Fifty Seven Despite what many people might have thought about the Dome, their ¡®business offices¡¯ were little different from many others Erich had seen on the East Coast. Big glass windows, reception desk, fountain. The only outliers here are those heavy duty automated security turrets bolted into the ceiling, and even those aren¡¯t totally unheard of in the more ¡®volatile¡¯ neighbourhoods. Of course, back home, they would have at least tried to hide those additions to the building. Here they were fully on display. A deterrent as much as a security feature. The woman behind the front desk didn''t even blink at the sight of Erich''s suit, or his drones in lockstep behind him. ¡°Hello,¡± she said. ¡°Who might you be, and how can I help?¡± ¡°Mechromancer,¡± Erich said. ¡°I have a Nine O¡¯clock meeting with Director Stevens.¡± The woman nodded, smile unmoved as her fingers darted over the screen in front of here. ¡°Right, there you are. The Director is already waiting for you with a few of your other colleagues in meeting room twelve on the third floor. One of our security personnel will see you up.¡± She gestured to the drones. ¡°Your associates may accompany you of course, but we remind you that any displays of hostility will be met with lethal force.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± Erich said. Nothing quite like a death threat to start negotiations.
Director Stevens was not a meta-human. Short, bald, and with the beginnings of a pot belly, the man looked more like an accountant than a division head of one of the most successful and violent blood-sports on the planet. The man¡¯s presence seemed incongruous as he sat at the head of the meeting table, wide jovial smile on display. He was the only one in the room smiling. Bronte sat on his right and Zig-Zag on his left, their pairs of chosen goons leaning against the wall behind their respective bosses. Bronte had an uncomfortable looking Gravity, and a man in the attire of the Saints decked out with what looked to be enough Artificer-tech to level half a city block. Little of it mine, Erich noted coolly. Zig-Zag¡¯s line-up was incredibly lackluster by comparison; two grunts whose combined Artificer-tech armaments barely made up half of what Bronte¡¯s man was rocking. All of it mine though. Erich sank into a seat opposite the Director. ¡°Ah, Mechromancer,¡± Stevens said jovially, utterly unperturbed about breaking the awkward silence that had clearly pervaded the room prior to Erich¡¯s arrival. ¡°You¡¯ve arrived, and I see you¡¯ve brought your accompaniment for our little ¡®mission.''¡± The man opposite him looked over the two drones. ¡°No people, Erich?¡± Bronte piped up. ¡°Couldn¡¯t get any of your munchkins to come with?¡± Erich shrugged. ¡°I didn¡¯t ask any to come. Unlike some present, I find endangering children unnecessarily distasteful.¡± ¡°A commendable attitude,¡± Stevens continued before Bronte could speak again. ¡°Though I can¡¯t help but wonder if it is a wise one. Impressive as your machines might be¡ªI particularly like the cloaks, very theatrical, they don¡¯t seem very subtle.¡± Unmentioned was that the mission they were going on was the supposed to be stealthy. If everything went to plan the group would be in and out with the prisoners before anyone outside the prison complex even knew what happened. ¡°The cloaks aren¡¯t for drama,¡± Erich said. He resisted the urge to sneer under his helmet at the very idea. ¡°They possess a practical use.¡± Tapping a command into his gauntlet pad, he enjoyed the slight intake of breath that came from the rest of the room as he and the drones all-but disappeared from sight. ¡°Very impressive, my friend.¡± The Director grinned as Erich and his escort uncloaked once more. ¡°Consider my earlier objection repealed.¡± ¡°Well mine aren¡¯t,¡± Zig-Zag said. ¡°They can be as invisible as they want, but they¡¯re still drones. The facility guards aren¡¯t fucking deaf you know.¡± ¡°These units have had a rubber sealant applied to their exteriors, effectively muffling the iconic ¡®clatter¡¯ from metal striking a hard surface.¡± It also made them run hotter than he might have liked but given that he was using these units for a one-off mission, he was fine with modifying them for the purpose. ¡°Quite,¡± Stevens interrupted again before either of Erich¡¯s associates could complain again. ¡°And, as I said earlier, I revoked my own objections. Since it is my opinion that my organization is listening to, mine is the only opinion that matters. The mission will proceed as it was presented in the information packets provided to you prior to this meeting.¡± ¡°I¡¯m still not happy with how rushed all this is,¡± Bronte said. ¡°An operation like this should have months of planning, not a few days and a few rushed phone calls.¡± Yet you¡¯re still here. Steven¡¯s mega-watt smile utterly undimmed. ¡°Yes, it is unfortunate that we must make haste, but given the somewhat¡­ low level of information security present in the organizations taking part in this operation, upper management decided that a short planning period presented the best chance for success.¡± Somehow Erich doubted he was talking about the Dome when the Director mentioned loose lips. It was mildly insulting, but entirely correct. Hence why he had stressed the need for speed, even if he¡¯d declined to go into specifics. ¡°You¡¯re welcome to pull out if it¡¯s too hot for you,¡± Zig-Zag said. ¡°More for the rest of us.¡± ¡°Not on your life, freak.¡± Bronte sneered across the table. Steven¡¯s loud clap interrupted the brewing squabble, ¡°Capital! Well, if there are no further complaints, I would say we are ready to proceed with the operation.¡± The two villains looked they still wanted to argue, with a final wary glance at each other, they nodded. Erich for his part simply let out a sigh of relief. The director summoned up security guards to direct the group down to what he cheerfully called the ¡®departures lounge¡¯. Right, now to get out of the frying pan and into the fire. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
¡°That¡¯s a vegetable,¡± Bronte deadpanned. For the first time since Erich had met him, something close to a frown came across the Director¡¯s face. ¡°Please be respectful Miss Bronte.¡± The group looked at a monitor displaying a hospital room filled with a trio of what Erich hoped were medical professionals. The subject of the trio¡¯s attention was a wheelchair bound man sitting across from a blank television screen. ¡°That¡¯s Atlas, the pride and joy of the Dome¡¯s transport division,¡± the Director continued. ¡°I can say without a shadow of a doubt that the man across from you was instrumental in the founding and early operations of the Dome.¡± ¡°He¡¯s drooling¡­¡± Gravity said, disgust and horror warring on her voice. Erich wasn¡¯t feeling much better. Sure, he was a cold calculating bastard, but even he felt uncomfortable staring at the living husk of a human being on display. ¡°Unfortunately our resident teleporter developed something of a weak conscience in our early years and attempted to quit. Given that he was integral to the operation of the then burgeoning group, the other four founders of the Dome were given no choice but to reject his request.¡± If Gravity had looked horrified before, she looked even worse after the man¡¯s matter of fact speech. ¡°But why¡­ that?¡± Stevens quirked an eye at her. ¡°He¡¯s a teleporter ma¡¯am. The founders couldn¡¯t very well throw some chains or a collar on him and hope for the best. So they came up with this rather elegant solution. The frontal lobotomy has removed any desire to leave, or any desire at all really, but Atlas can still utilize his powers given sufficient persuasion.¡± Erich couldn¡¯t help but notice that Bronte was nodded along. ¡°How did you know his powers would remain intact?¡± Stevens smiled at her. ¡°How else? Trial and error. Of course, Atlas¡¯s former compatriots had to delay negotiations for his withdrawal, but our medical technicians came through in record time. Cost us quite a few eligible gladiators, but I would say that it was worth it to maintain the use of our resident teleporter''s abilities.¡± ¡°Enough,¡± Erich put in, unable to stomach any more. ¡°We don¡¯t need the guy¡¯s entire life story. We just need his abilities.¡± ¡°Of course, of course,¡± Stevens said. ¡°Do forgive an old man his ramblings.¡± Erich watched as the director spoke into the intercom that was the only notable feature in the otherwise featureless concrete box they¡¯d been lead to. ¡°Myrcilla? Myrcilla dear? Is he ready to¡­¡± Whatever else the man might have said was cut off for Erich as Gravity awkwardly sidled over to him. ¡°Did you know about this?¡± She whispered, her voice curiously neutral . ¡°Why would you think I knew about this?¡± Erich asked, a hint of irritation he couldn¡¯t quite stifle entering his voice. Fortunately, the distortion provided by his suit¡¯s voice unit managed to hide what his flesh could not. ¡°Don¡¯t fuck with me, Erich. I know you were the one who suggested this entire excursion. Did you know about... him?¡± She gestured to the horror on screen. Erich remained silent for a second. ¡°I knew the Dome had a teleporter. Beyond that I knew nothing else. I didn¡¯t need to know anything else.¡± ¡°And you¡¯re ok with this?¡± Erich knew a loaded question when he heard it. He also knew the right answer. The one she wanted to hear. ¡°Yes,¡± he lied. ¡°I¡¯m perfectly fine with it.¡± ¡°I see.¡± And that was that. His friend didn¡¯t say anything else. She simply walked back to her corner of the room, slipping her helmet over her head without another word. Deep in his heart, Erich felt some small pang of loss. It hurt less than I expected though. He was learning. Growing. Which was good, because he was going to need every inch of fortitude he could get for what was about to come. ¡°Alright people,¡± Steven¡¯s booming voice clapped from up front. ¡°Myrcilla says our boy is good to go. It can take him a few minutes to understand what she wants, so there¡¯s not really going to be any warning. Try not to get too disorientated. One second you¡¯re going to be here, and the next you¡¯re going to be¡ª¡±
Stevens was a filthy liar. Teleportation was not pleasant. Erich had never been on a rollercoaster, but he figured the sensations were pretty similar, if a few times less intense when compared to what he¡¯d just been through. At least he hoped they were as he resisted the urge to spew his breakfast into a nearby bush. Fortunately for all of them, the Dome had been as good as their word, and the entire group had been deposited out of sight of the prison facility in the woods nearby. Which was good, because in their current state, the whole band of hardened criminals could have been taken down by a girl scout troop armed with sticks and a can-do attitude. Well, assuming they weren¡¯t vaporized by the drones first, being the only unaffected members of their party. His drones. ¡°Don¡¯t even think about it,¡± a voice growled to his left. ¡°Think about what?¡± Erich asked innocently. He turned to Bronte, fingers slowly pulling away from where they¡¯d been resting over the control-pad on his wrist. The woman¡¯s glare burned into him for a few more seconds, before she turned away, barking orders at her two underlings. Watching her go, Erich shrugged. His window of opportunity had passed. By the time he¡¯d even considered acting on his change in circumstances, the sickness and disorientation were already fading. Easy come, easy go. It had just been an idle thought anyway. A what if?
¡°How¡¯s it look?¡± Bronte asked from the base of the tree. ¡°Like we suspected.¡± Erich was up in the branches. ¡°I can see one or two guards patrolling the perimeter fence, but mostly looks to be automated turrets and drones.¡± ¡°Type?¡± ¡°MK One-Omni¡¯s,¡± Erich scoffed. ¡°No idea what operating system they¡¯re using, but considering the chassis, I¡¯m willing to bet it¡¯s nothing too impressive.¡± Bronte nodded slowly. ¡°Good, looks like your hunch was correct.¡± Erich scowled as he clambered down from the tree. It had been more than a hunch. It had been a reasoned conclusion. Ignorant of his thoughts ¡ªor uncaring of them, Bronte turned towards the other two members of the infiltration team. ¡°Zig-Zag, Gravity, you two ready?¡± ¡°Ready as I¡¯ll ever be,¡± Gravity said as Zig-Zag nodded. Bronte pulled a bundle of rope from her pack and tossed it to the pair. ¡°Right, hook yourselves up.¡± Erich frowned, but joined the other two and tying the rope around himself. ¡°Don¡¯t drop us Gravity.¡± The distortion provided by his suit served to deaden the not insignificant amount of worry in his voice. The woman¡¯s eyes and hands started to glow with her signature eerie green. ¡°I¡¯ll try not to.¡± The trio started to rise. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind a little more assurance than ¡®I¡¯ll try not to¡¯,¡± Zig-Zag said. The gravity manipulator didn¡¯t respond as they continued to slowly rise above the treetops. In different circumstances, the glowing of the woman¡¯s hands might have given the trio away as they drifted up the night sky. As it was, Erich quickly pulled the other two villains into an awkward hug, shrouding them with his cloak. The only part of them that might have been visible were the two metallic tentacles poking out from the bundle, the UV lasers within providing a very crude form of propulsion. Still, it worked. It was slow going, but eventually the trio drifted deftly over the fences and patrolling guards, to land on the roof of the largest building of the prison complex. ¡°You¡¯re up, Zig-Zag,¡± Gravity murmured. The glow faded with her powers. Sweat beaded her forehead from the strain as she all-but collapsed into Erich¡¯s arms. The shapeshifter just nodded, skin turning the same colour and texture of the roof as she melted down to the floor. It was more than a little gross to watch, and Erich had to resist the urge to look away as the now amorphous blob slithered out from under his cloak, multitudes of tiny tentacles dragging it along the roof and out of sight. Like the world¡¯s most fucked up octopus. ¡°Erich?¡± Gravity¡¯s voice drew him back to his present situation, standing on the roof of a maximum security prison complex, hugging a person he had very mixed feelings about. How did my life become this? ¡°I thought we agreed on mask names for the operation,¡± he said. ¡°Mechromancer,¡± the woman corrected. ¡°I know that after our last conversation things have become a little¡­ awkward between us.¡± Erich shrugged. Awkward was nothing new for him. Awkward was a good descriptor for most of the relationships he¡¯d had in life. Though usually for different reasons than this one. Ignorant of his thoughts, Gravity continued on. ¡°But right now we need to work together if we¡¯re going to pull off this¡­ insanity. I need to know you have my back if something goes down. Hell, I need you to trust I have yours.¡± Erich almost laughed. ¡°Sure. No problem.¡± Gravity frowned, looking like she wanted to say more, but fortunately for him she was interrupted by the return of their teammate, now human looking once more. ¡°Jammer¡¯s in place. Cameras are down. If this thing works the way you claim, we¡¯ve got about thirty minutes before they realize they¡¯re cut off.¡± Erich resisted the urge to roll his eyes. ¡°If this goes to shit before then it won¡¯t be because my jammer failed.¡± It was the same device that the Hangman had used to such devastating effect after all, and it was the same one he¡¯d used to talk to Overdrive without eavesdroppers. The thing had been more than fully tested. ¡°We¡¯re in,¡± Gravity called over the radio. ¡°Jammer¡¯s up and cameras are down. Not hearing any sirens or shouting, so I guess we¡¯re still green. Starting infiltration now.¡± ¡°Good we¡¯ll start moving into position,¡± Bronte radioed back. ¡°If you could instruct your underlings to do the same, that would be nice.¡± Erich rolled his eyes, but gave the correct command to his drones, just as Zig-Zag radioed her own instructions to her people on a private channel. Erich strode to the rooftop entrance. He didn¡¯t hear Bronte start cussing up a storm over the radio, so he could safely assume that Zig-Zag hadn¡¯t told their people to shoot her. Yet¡­ A quick glance at the doorway told him it was both locked and alarmed. Which only made sense really. Still, the extra-security was worthless against him. ¡°Laser won¡¯t set off the alarm?¡± Zig-Zag asked as Erich¡¯s weapons melted the locking mechanism. ¡°Would he be doing it if it would?¡± Gravity said. Erich ignored them both as he cut the laser, satisfied that the security system had been disabled. He pulled the handle, leveraging his suit''s strength and taking the door off it¡¯s hinges with a shriek. ¡°Laser superheats the surface layer of the metal, creating plasma.¡± He listened for any sounds of alarm from within. When he heard none, he smiled in satisfaction. ¡°Plasma formation unleashes volatile energy waves, which disrupt electronics.¡± ¡­and human nervous systems, he added mentally. Which is why I have it as one of my settings. Makes for a handy non-lethal weapon. Or an interrogation tool in a pinch. ¡°Fascinating,¡± Zig-Zag droned. ¡°Now get in there.¡± ¡°Why am I taking point?¡± He complained. The shapeshifter rolled their eyes. ¡°You¡¯re the only one in power armour. Ipsofacto, you take point.¡± ¡°Stealth suit.¡± Erich gestured at the shifting pattern of his cloak. ¡°Underneath the shields I¡¯m as squishy as the next guy.¡± He wasn¡¯t. His suit might not have been a walking tank, but it wasn¡¯t totally bereft of armour plating either. ¡°Are we really doing this now?¡± Gravity hissed. They ignored her. ¡°Well as you mentioned,¡± Zig-Zag said, ¡°you¡¯ve got shields.¡± ¡°So do you!¡± Erich pointed out the offending bit of tech on the man-woman¡¯s bandolier. ¡°Both of you do.¡± ¡°You expect me to believe that you were selling the same shields in your store as you put on your suit?¡± Zig-Zag scoffed. ¡°They are,¡± he lied. They weren¡¯t. They were so much worse. Still good for the price, but still mass-produced junk. ¡°Horseshit. Our shields glow yellow when they take a hit. Yours glow blue!¡± That was her argument? She wasn''t wrong about the strength difference, but it wasn''t because of the fucking colour! ¡­The colour change was more of a byproduct of the difference in light density and wavelength. ¡°Well what about you then?¡± Erich said. ¡°I¡¯m a squishy human under the suit, whereas I¡¯ve seen you eat entire magazines of bullets when you go ¡®monster mode.¡¯¡± Well, he hadn¡¯t ever seen it in person, but he¡¯d seen videos. Which, now that he thought about it, was a pretty good reason to not argue with the person who could turn into a six foot tentacle monster from hell. ¡°Did you just call me a fucking monster?¡± Zig-Zag demanded. Though her argument against the designation was somewhat weakened by the fact that tendrils had already started to form on her neck. Still it was enough to make Erich take a step back and subtly start powering up his own weapon systems. ¡°Fuck it, I¡¯ll do it.¡± Gravity¡¯s helmet disappeared down the stairs. Well, ok then. Sharing a wary final glance at each other, the pair followed the woman in. Chapter Fifty Eight ¡°Three ¡®humanoid objects¡¯ in that room.¡± Erich said. He glanced away from his HUD to step over the unconscious body of an unfortunate guard. Ample proof that his new less than lethal armament was effective. ¡°Guards? Drones? Clerks?¡± Gravity prompted. ¡°I know this isn¡¯t my first time bringing it up, but you¡¯re sure you can¡¯t do any better than that?¡± ¡°Humanoid objects.¡± Erich reiterated. ¡°It could be a trio of manikins for all I know.¡± ¡°Well thanks for nothing,¡± Zig-Zag said. Her form shifted to take on the slightly pudgy features of the downed guard. ¡°How do I look?¡± Erich looked her over. ¡°Bit too pudgy.¡± ¡°Hair¡¯s a bit too dark as well,¡± Gravity added. ¡°He was more of an auburn.¡± The shapeshifter nodded and made the appropriate changes. ¡°Better? Worse?¡± Erich shrugged as Gravity glanced back at the fallen guard and offered a thumbs up. ¡°Right, let¡¯s do this then.¡± Zig-Zag pushed open the door. Erich¡¯s cloaked form slipped in behind as Gravity stayed outside. It was clearly a breakroom, complete with one clerk and two guards. Two of the occupants were deep in conversation about something, but the other guard glanced up from their coffee as the imposter strode over to the cupboard. Despite himself, Erich felt his heart skip a beat as the woman¡¯s eyes paused slightly on his cloaked form. His tech wasn¡¯t perfect, and in the brightly illuminated halls of the facility he knew he appeared as a slight shimmer in the air. Fortunately for him, it was a tiny thing. Easily dismissed. Which was exactly what the woman did as her gaze settled on Zig-Zag. ¡°Forgot your keycard again, Francis?¡± ¡°I know I left it in here somewhere.¡± The fake guard muttered, hands patting pockets as she glanced about the room. The other guard tiredly rolled their eyes. ¡°You¡¯re lucky the chief ain¡¯t here. He told you you¡¯d be on report if you lost it again.¡± ¡°I know, I know.¡± Zig-Zag muttered as she pulled out a gun and shot the guard in one smooth movement. Despite knowing it was coming, Erich found himself shocked by the suddenness of it. The shape-shifter had drawn and fired in a movement so smooth he barely saw it happen. Fortunately for him, his cybernetic arms¡ªhe¡¯d finally settled on a name¡ªneeded no prompting. The second Zig-Zag fired, they¡¯d gone weapons free, tagging the other two occupants of the room before they¡¯d even begun to react. ¡°Done?¡± Gravity asked as she stepped in. ¡°Done.¡± Erich said. ¡°Though we¡¯ve got a casualty here.¡± ¡°Did one of you take a hit?¡± Gravity started to ask in concern, before her eyes alighted on the guard that Zig-Zag had shot. ¡°Oh what the fuck, Zig-Zag!? I thought we agreed to go non-lethal.¡± The shapeshifter''s disguise sloughed off. ¡°You two agreed. I didn¡¯t agree to shit.¡± Erich wasn¡¯t happy either. Though for reasons he suspected differed from Gravity¡¯s. He stepped away from the rapidly forming pool of blood to keep it off his cloak. ¡°This is going to bring a lot more heat down on us, Zig-Zag. This isn¡¯t like the West Coast. Body counts draw a lot more scrutiny. Media coverage. An active pursuit.¡± The shape-shifter just scoffed. ¡°As if what we¡¯re doing won¡¯t do that already? We pull this off and we get caught? We¡¯re all getting the ball and chain anyway. Fuck, I get caught and I¡¯m getting it anyway. Body-count or not.¡± Erich frowned. He couldn¡¯t deny what she was saying was true. As a shape-shifter Zig-Zag was already a massive flight risk. Without some kind of political pull, which they wouldn¡¯t have as West Coast natives, they were all but guaranteed to be convicted. Which meant Ball and Chain, regardless of the severity of their crimes. ¡°So, we¡¯re just going to shoot everyone because we¡¯re all fucked anyway, is that it?¡± Gravity asked. ¡°Just removing variables where I can, princess. A corpse has a hell of a lot less capacity for adding complications down the line than someone that¡¯s been knocked out and zip-tied.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t seem to have a problem out there?¡± Erich put in. ¡°I didn¡¯t shoot the guy out there.¡± Zig-Zag said. ¡°She did. Didn¡¯t seem worth kicking up a fuss in the middle of the hallway.¡± ¡°Well if you don¡¯t want more complications right here and now, stick to non-lethal.¡± Erich said. ¡°I added the setting to your gun for a reason.¡± ¡°That a threat, tin-can?¡± Zig-Zag eyed him. Fucking West Coast mentality. ¡°Take it as you like. You might be totally fucked if this goes south, but I¡¯m not looking to draw any more trouble than I have to. Least of all because you get your jollies from murdering people when you don¡¯t have to. Stick to the plasma-pulse.¡± The shape-shifter scowled, eyes darting between the two of them, before the fight seem to go out of them. ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll prance about like pussies if it makes you two feel better.¡± A wicked grin came over Zig-Zag''s face. ¡°But how much do you want to bet that the other team¡¯s not bothering with prisoners when they come busting in here?¡± Erich shrugged. That wasn¡¯t his problem. Just got to keep my own hands ¡®relatively¡¯ clean. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Let¡¯s just get to the control room.¡±
¡°How long?¡± Gravity asked. ¡°Eight minutes,¡± Erich said after glancing at his HUD. ¡°Seven minutes until someone realizes something¡¯s wrong.¡± ¡°Not great, not awful,¡± Gravity said. She watched the doorway leading to the control room. ¡°How long will it take you to take the Ball and Chain offline.¡± Third time she¡¯s asked that. Conscious of the time, Gravity? ¡°Like I said during the meeting, depends on how much the system has changed since I last looked at it. Could be twenty minutes, could be five hours.¡± He forced down his irritation. A dozen-odd dots occupied the control room on his map. It was the largest concentration of prison personnel he¡¯d seen thus far. Which only makes sense really. The control room is the only thing that really matters within the facility, so they¡¯d naturally congregate there the second they realized something was wrong. ¡°Though that time goes up if I have to work with damaged equipment,¡± he said. ¡°Which is why we¡¯re using the less-than-lethal setting,¡± Gravity said. The shapeshifter, who currently looked like one of the guards was sulking. ¡°Actually,¡± Erich interrupted, ¡°the less-than-lethal would probably cause more damage than just hitting the consoles with a laser.¡± The energy released by plasma formation fucked with electronics as well as nervous systems after all. It had certainly taken down a number of drones without issue, as the trio littering the hallway behind the group could testify. The cheap pieces of junk barely had time to raise their guns before they were out of commission. ¡°So, what are we going to do then?¡± Gravity asked. ¡°Use the lethal settings, wipe the cameras, and blame it on Bronte?¡± ¡°What the fuck, Erich!¡± Gravity exclaimed. Zig-Zag¡¯s head whipped round, an unnaturally wide grin on their features. Erich deliberately kept his eyes on his HUD. ¡°Unless you have a better suggestion? One that doesn¡¯t result in the consoles I need getting caught in the crossfire?¡± Gravity cursed under her breath. Her eyes swept the hallway as she searched for another option. Erich didn¡¯t mind, he was content to wait and catch his breath. The suit was light, but that meant less servos as much as less armour. Unlike his old suit, this one required that he use some of his own muscles to move it. Which meant that after sneaking and fighting his way through half the prison, his muscles were burning from the exertion. More than that, breaching the room would only take a minute. From there he just had to get Zig-Zag on the comms to signal an ¡®all-clear¡¯. They¡¯d blame the blackout on a communication fault. Maybe the authorities would buy it, maybe they wouldn¡¯t. Either way, it would buy them time. Unfortunately for him, Gravity was a quicker thinker than he would have liked. ¡°What if we used that vent?¡± Erich glanced at the vent in question. It was overhead and just wide enough for someone to squeeze through. He deliberated on it for a whole three seconds. ¡°Sure.¡± Gravity beamed, strode to the vent and used her weapon to ¡®loosen up¡¯ the screws. ¡°Right, I¡¯ll go first, you two follow.¡± Erich and Zig-Zag glanced at each other as the woman started clambering up, a mutual understanding forming between them. Erich activated his cloak. Zig-Zag turned the same colour as the brickwork and melted against the wall. Ignorant of her allies¡¯ actions, Gravity continued on. ¡°Right, I¡¯m nearly¡ª¡± Suddenly the entire partition she was clambering onto collapsed, sending her and a good chunk of the ventilation shaft clattering to the floor with an almighty ruckus. ¡°Oh, what the fuck!¡± Exactly on cue, the doors to the control room burst open.Half a dozen drones swept into the hall, weapons immediately trained on the young woman sprawled on the floor who most definitely wasn¡¯t supposed to be there. ¡°Intruder! You are trespassing in a restricted area. Remain in place. A security officer will be along shortly. Attempts to escape or resist will be met with penalties, up to and including lethal force.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah. I surrender.¡± Gravity mumbled bringing both hands up. ¡°Smart move, Miss,¡± said the security guard who emerged from within the control center. ¡°I take it you¡¯re the one responsible for our sudden ¡®communications failure.¡± ¡°Something like that,¡± Gravity muttered. The man holstered his gun to reach for his handcuffs. Of course, his hands never made it. The second his gun was safely holstered, Erich¡¯s cyber-limbs grabbed him from behind. ¡°Don¡¯t move, or I blow your brains out,¡± Erich¡¯s mechanical voice intoned. He slowly backed up against the wall , human shield safely in front of him. Naturally, the guard ignored him and reflexively tried to struggle, but the sensation of one of Erich¡¯s weapon mounts pressing against his temple quickly put a stop to that. Which was around the time the drones realized that something had happened behind them. ¡°Intruder! You are trespassing in a restricted¡ª¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s enough of that,¡± Erich said, using his two unoccupied cyber-limbs to gun down the pieces of junk. None of them made any attempt to fire back. They couldn¡¯t. Not with an ally in the line-of-fire. The best their programming could manage was to attempt step around to acquire a better angle. Which, given that Erich had his back to the wall, was impossible. They¡¯re machines not people, Erich thought as he watched the last one hit the floor with a thunk. They follow their programming. It was funny. He was used to being disadvantaged by that mechanical shortcoming. It was nice to see it work in his benefit for a change. ¡°Thanks guys,.¡± Gravity clambered to her feet. ¡°Nice of you to volunteer me as bait.¡± Erich started frog marching his now compliant hostage toward the door. ¡°You volunteered yourself. Just not in the manner you expected.¡± ¡°Seriously princess, clambering through the vent?¡± Zig-Zag cackled as she unpeeled from the wall. ¡°You¡¯ve been watching too many movies.¡± Gravity sighed, but didn¡¯t argue the point. It had been a pretty dumb idea. ¡°Alright, anyone who¡¯s still in the control room,¡± she shouted through the doorway. ¡°As you can see, your valiant mechanical protectors are now so much scrap. If you¡¯ve still got one or two in there with you, I can assure you, they won¡¯t have any more success than these did. Step out now and I promise none of you will be harmed.¡± ¡°Fuck that,¡± a voice shouted from within. ¡°We¡¯ve got a nice bottleneck here. Come through and you¡¯ll get a face full of lead. So yeah, I think we¡¯re happy right where we are.¡± Despite the bravado in the man¡¯s words, his voice had an audible tremor to it as he spoke. ¡°I can assure you, if you don¡¯t surrender, the only one who¡¯ll be getting a face full of lead around here will be¡­¡± Gravity paused as she turned to their hostage. ¡°¡­What¡¯s your name again?¡± ¡°Fuck you,¡± the guard said, prompting Erich to tighten his gauntlet around the man¡¯s throat. ¡°Terry,¡± the man finally muttered, causing Gravity to smile. ¡°As I was saying, we come through that door, the first person to catch a bullet is going to be Terry here. The drones won¡¯t shoot with an ally in the way. So which one of you is volunteering to shoot dear old Terry here in the head?¡± The whispered conversation from within renewed with fervour. Alright, enough fucking around¡­ The sound of Terry¡¯s wrist snapping like a dry twig echoed loudly in the quiet of the hallway. The sound took everyone off-guard. Even Terry was silent for nearly a second before the pain hit him. Then he screamed. Loudly. Fortunately for Erich, Zig-Zag and Gravity, the time for silence had long since passed. Gravity frowned as she looked at the man¡¯s mangled arm. Erich ignored her as his suit¡¯s vocal caster allowed him to shout over his hostage¡¯s agonized sobs. ¡°This isn¡¯t an ice-cream social here people. Throw down your guns, put your hands on your head and step outside before I come in there and you have to make a very difficult decision about who¡¯s going to murder a colleague today.¡± The sound of Terry¡¯s sobs were the only sounds in the hall for a few more moments before Erich heard the first gun clatter to the ground. The others followed soon after, and within moments the technicians and guards within were walking out of the room, hands on their heads. ¡°The drones?¡± Erich asked the nearest man. ¡°Deactivated.¡± Erich smiled. What was deactivated could be reactivated without too much trouble. Sure, the drones were worth less than the metal they were made from in a fight as far as he was concerned. But waste not, want not¡­ ¡°Seriously, what the fuck Erich ?¡± Gravity said as they zip-tied their now compliant prisoners. ¡°They were taking too long.¡± Erich dumped a sobbing Terry to the floor and non-too gently zip-tied his wrist. ¡°Besides, if things dragged on, we might have had to go with the ¡®human shield¡¯ plan.¡± And while he didn¡¯t expect Terry to thank him for it, Erich figured the man would have preferred a clean snap of his ulna and radius over a perforated skull. ¡°I was bluffing,¡± Gravity said, while making sure that none of their prisoners could hear. Erich shrugged. ¡°I wasn¡¯t.¡± Gravity looked like she wanted to say more but was cut off by the sound of Zig-Zag¡¯s voice from within the control room. ¡°Alright guys, looks like we¡¯ve got full control of the prison from here. Camera¡¯s. Drones. Comms. The lot.¡± The shapeshifter said from one of the consoles. Erich and Gravity stepped inside, mutually agreeing to put their argument on hold. ¡°Surprised you can identify half this stuff.¡± Erich scanned over the equipment and saw that the shapeshifter¡¯s statement was more or less correct. Zig-Zag shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m a shapeshifter. Lots of infiltrating and shit. Pays to have half a clue as to what the people you¡¯re supposed to be impersonating know.¡± Erich stepped over to the drone controls. He imagined the villain spent a good chunk of time pretending to be control center staff. Even if the gang¡¯s she was infiltrating had a less¡­ organized control setup. He plugged his Omni-Pad into the console. ¡°How long¡¯s it going to take you to hack into the system?¡± Zig-Zag asked. Erich didn¡¯t look away from the long stream of code flashing across his HUD. ¡°Not long.¡± ¡°How not long?¡± Zig-Zag continued. ¡°Longer than it would take me to get one of those technical pukes outside to cough it up?¡± It was funny. Torturing the password and login out of the technicians hadn¡¯t even occurred to him. Funny considering what he¡¯d just done to gain access to the room. ¡°No need,¡± he muttered. ¡°I¡¯m already in.¡± It had taken barely a minute. More a result of the outdated nature of the prison¡¯s security than any particular skill on his part. He started queuing up commands. ¡°Opening the front gates for Bronte and our associates,¡± he said. His gauntlets flew across the keyboard . ¡°Listing the names of all staff on site as ¡®escaped prisoners¡¯. Giving all ¡®unknown individuals¡¯ the same privileges as visiting members of the Heroes Guild. Setting all drones to sweep and clear the facility.¡± Lastly he made sure to wipe the bit of code that commanded the drones to give out a warning before engaging a target. The last thing he wanted was the remaining staff loose in the facility getting any warning that their automated security was now playing for the other team. Satisfied, he stepped back, and with a small flourish tapped a key on his gauntlet. Almost immediately the communications system lit up with noise as staff started calling in to report their positions, report coming across downed security forces, or otherwise ask what the hell was going on. Of course, those communications were almost immediately filled with shrieks of surprise and anger as the security drones accompanying those members of staff turned on their former allies. ¡°Fuck me¡­¡± Zig-Zag murmured. The trio watched the camera feeds as all across the facility staff were gunned down or fleeing from the treacherous automated systems. ¡°This is non-lethal, right?¡± Gravity asked. Erich didn¡¯t dignify the question with a response. Of course it was. The drones didn¡¯t even have a lethal armament. Instead he tapped into his comms. ¡°Bronte? The gates should be open now, and the security drones will be friendly. Be aware that staff may still be present within the facility.¡± Chapter Fifty Nine ¡°How long until someone notices that something¡¯s wrong?¡± Bronte asked as she watched the prison¡¯s security drones drag the last of the staff into a prison cell. Erich''s fingers continued to fly over the keyboard. ¡°Ideally, no one should know anything is off until the next shift starts,¡± he said. ¡°Which should be a good seven hours from now.¡± ¡°And if things aren¡¯t ideal?¡± One of Zig-Zag¡¯s goons asked. ¡°We could get rumbled any second now,¡± he admitted. ¡°It¡¯s admittedly unlikely, but a hero might try to drop off prisoners here rather than at a police precinct.¡± He would have liked to rule it out as impossible, but where heroes were involved anything was possible. The very idea of following protocol was anathema to some of them, and it was those sorts he could very easily see deciding that one government facility was as good as any other when it came to dropping off their belligerent foes. In fact, he scanned the prison logs, and yep, just last week Star-Spangled chose to literally drop a few bank robbers in the prison courtyard before flying off. Never mind the fact that this particular facility didn¡¯t even cater to criminals of a non-meta variety. ¡°Great, so we could have Blur or Mechanical dropping in on us any moment?¡± Another of the thugs muttered, unintentionally making Erich stiffen at the mention of his sister. ¡°I said it was unlikely,¡± he reiterated, thankful for his suit¡¯s ability to deaden his voice. ¡°If it happens, it happens,¡± Bronte said before the goon could speak again. ¡°If it does, we¡¯ll deal with it.¡± From the sound of the shuffling behind him, Erich could tell no one was happy about that. Still, none of them were dumb enough to piss off Bronte by continuing the discussion. Happy she¡¯d made her point, the lightning user turned her attention back to him. ¡°So, how long is this going to take?¡± Erich glanced at the countdown timer in the upper-right of his HUD. Forty minutes. ¡°Now that I can actually see the system architecture I¡¯m working with, I imagine it¡¯ll take about an hour, uninterrupted,¡± he lied. ¡°That long? You¡¯ve got the fucking control panel in front of you.¡± Erich snorted. ¡°This is the Ball and Chain we¡¯re talking about here. Not some rinky-dink budget security system. Getting access to the system infrastructure is easy now that I¡¯m here. Getting control though? That¡¯s going to take time, even with my ¡®prior experience.¡¯¡± ¡°So what are we supposed to do? Sit around with our thumbs up our asses?¡± Zig-Zag asked. ¡°No,¡± Bronte answered before Erich could. ¡°We¡¯ll use the time to start fortifying this place. Ideally no one¡¯s even going to know we we''re here until we¡¯re gone, but that¡¯s no reason to not prepare.¡± She gestured to the camera feed of the facility¡¯s main vault, where rows upon rows of cryopods sat. ¡°We can use the time to start thawing out prisoners.¡± Alarm coloured Gravity''s features. ¡°I thought the plan was to thaw them out at the other end. Less trouble that way.¡± Erich thought that was the plan as well. He should know, he¡¯d been responsible for most of it. Bronte gestured for her unnamed goon to stay in place before she started moving toward the door. ¡°That was before I noticed those industrial de-thawing machines.¡± ¡°You do realize industrial is a relative term, right?¡± Erich shouted, stopping the woman before she reached the door. ¡°The process is still painstakingly slow. An industrial de-thawer will be lucky if it de-thaws one individual an hour. Hell, it¡¯ll be slower if their abilities interfere with the process.¡± Which they almost inevitably would.Stolen story; please report. If Bronte was offended by his scepticism it didn¡¯t show. In fact, her features took on a distinctly giddy tint as she looked at him. ¡°Even one person is still an extra set of powers in the event we end up under siege.¡± Gravity crossed her arms. ¡°Attached to a volatile inmate who¡¯s got no reason to help us beyond the slim possibility of escape. Which means they¡¯ll be desperate, disorientated and angry. Not the kind of person I want watching my back if we end up with half the Guild outside.¡± Bronte shrugged. ¡°Nothing has changed from our original plan for the inmates beyond the timeframe. They¡¯ll still be an inmate who has the equivalent of a limpet mine surgically welded to their skull. The plan always assumed that would be enough to ensure good behaviour. Long or short term.¡± Her eyes rolled around to Erich, ¡°Assuming that you can activate the Ball and Chain prior to gaining access to the internal workings of the system?¡± Erich nodded hesitantly. ¡°The Ball and Chain system was designed to be next to impossible to turn off. By comparison, activating it is¡­ relatively easy.¡± The logic behind such a move being relatively simple, if not outright mentioned by the designers. Even if the Guild lost access to the central control panel for a prison site, they could still have one of their Artificers activate the devices remotely. Though whether that Artificer would still be called a hero by the public after that is debatable. ¡°See? No problem.¡± Bronte grinned, some small shred of the woman she used to be shining through for a moment as things went her way. ¡°Bruce here will keep Erich company.¡± She gestured to her silent goon. ¡°Meanwhile, you and me need to go see who we want to thaw out.¡± Bruce, eh? Erich thought as he glanced at the silent goon. What a load of horseshit¡­
Bronte strolled along the rows of frozen inmates. ¡°Hydro-kinetic. Pyro-kinetic. Ferro-Kinetic. Another Hydro-kinetic¡­ Do you think they just dumped all the ¡®kinetics¡¯ in one area?¡± ¡°Rapist. Arsonist. Serial-Rapist. Environmental Activist.¡± Gravity said as she looked up from her Omni-Pad. ¡°An activist?¡± Bronte glanced over at the last person on the line. A fairly mousy looking young woman. ¡°What¡¯s one of those doing in here?¡± Gravity pulled up the young woman¡¯s records. ¡°It seems she sank an oil tanker; killing everyone aboard and spilling fifty six million gallons of crude oil and assorted petroleum products into the Mexican Gulf in the process.¡± ¡°Powerful then,¡± Bronte said, ¡°but not too bright. And an idealist. Probably not a great fit for our organization.¡± Gravity scoffed as her half-sister continued to stride down the line. ¡°You know you could just get Erich to filter out the sort of people you don¡¯t want. It would probably take him all of a second.¡± Bronte shook her head as she stopped in front of another figure. A large man so covered in scales that he looked more akin to a reptile than a person. ¡°Mechromancer¡¯s busy enough making sure we can actually extract the people we¡¯re hoping to acquire,¡± she said absently, before a smile pulled her features. ¡°Besides, window shopping can be fun in its own right.¡± Gravity resisted the urge to point out that they were talking about violent criminals, and not a new pair of shoes. She was sure her sister was well aware and was just trying to bait her. ¡°What about you, our silent friend?¡± Bronte asked, turning toward the final member of their trio. ¡°Any opinions on who your boss might pick?¡± The silence from Zig-Zag¡¯s goon spoke for him. ¡°I¡¯m curious as to who they will end up picking,¡± Bronte continued. ¡°It would be unfortunate if we were to have some sort of overlap.¡± ¡°I sincerely doubt that Zig-Zag has told her hired help who she plans to recruit,¡± Gravity said. Bronte shrugged. ¡°No, I don¡¯t imagine she has. All smoke and mirrors that one. But that doesn¡¯t mean our friend over there doesn¡¯t know. After all, they could be Zig-Zag.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a one in three chance,¡± Gravity said. ¡°Is there a point to this?¡± They didn¡¯t know whether the shapeshifter was in here with them, or back in the control room with Erich, his drones and Bronte¡¯s other lackey. ¡°I don¡¯t know? It just seems a bit pointless is all,¡± Bronte said. ¡°All this subterfuge and swapping out with her people. Sure, it would make getting the drop on our erstwhile ally a bit more difficult, but only a bit.¡± Gravity''s brow furrowed. The silent goon adjusted his grip on their weapon. She didn¡¯t like where this was going. ¡°After all, figuring out which one is the shapeshifter is as simple as checking their weight.¡± You could have heard a pin drop in the ensuing silence, before Bronte chose to speak again. ¡°I¡¯ll admit, it took me a little longer than Erich to figure out, but I did in the end. I mean, our shapeshifting friend has got to be unreasonably dense,¡± Bronte continued. ¡°All that extra biomass they call on when they go tentacled abomination has to come from somewhere after all?¡± ¡°You can spout bullshit all you want bitch,¡± the thus far silent goon said, ¡°but neither me or my friends are about to step onto a set of scales, so you can take your amateur hour hypothesis and shove it up your ass.¡± Bronte grinned, even as the man across from her clicked off the safety on his weapon, prompting Gravity to do the same. ¡°I don¡¯t know about that. All sorts of security sensors in a prison. Radiation. Metal. X-ray. Weight¡­¡± Bronte singsonged. Gravity realized they''d passed through a security checkpoint on the way over here. Now her half-sister¡¯s ¡®sudden¡¯ decision to defrost an inmate made sense. ¡°You never actually planned to unfrost anyone.¡± Bronte¡¯s gauntlets flared to life, crackling with electricity. ¡°And add another variable to this plan? No, I¡¯m all about removing unwanted variables at this stage of the game.¡± That was the moment the ¡®nameless goon¡¯ erupted into a spiked mass of tentacles and shrieking mouths. Chapter Sixty ¡°Hard-Light.¡± Erich took some small amount of pride in the fact that he managed not to stutter. If the man in question heard him, no indication was forthcoming as he stood over the sparking remains of Erich¡¯s drones and the rapidly cooling corpses of Zig-Zag¡¯s goons. It seemed neither of them had been Zig-Zag in disguise. The violence was as sudden as it was one sided. Even if Erich had planned to shoot at the man, he doubted he would have been able to so much as scratch the guy¡¯s paint before getting perforated by one of the villain¡¯s blades. The agonizing silence stretched. ¡°You don¡¯t seem too surprised to see I¡¯m still alive?¡± the man finally said. Erich shrugged nervously, even as sweat beaded on his forehead. ¡°I am. A little,¡± he lied. ¡°We never found a body though¡­ so part of me thought you might still be running around.¡± ¡°I might be tempted to say that was smart.¡± the villain said. He strode over, pressing a single energized blade into Erich¡¯s sternum, sending warning claxons firing off in the engineer¡¯s HUD. ¡°If it weren¡¯t for what you did next. Pulling away from my little girl? Getting thoughts about striking off on your own?¡± Erich didn¡¯t move. Paralysed by fear as much as good sense. Trying to fight Hard-Light would just be an elaborate form of suicide. ¡°Not smart, kid,¡± the villain continued. He drove his weapon a few more millimetres into Erich¡¯s suit, metal crackling where it touched the energized blade. ¡°Not smart at all if you thought there was even a chance I was still alive.¡± ¡°I figured the Queen would keep me safe enough,¡± Erich said quickly. ¡°Didn¡¯t think you¡¯d risk running into her just for a chance to kill me.¡± ¡°Well, I must admit that her presence stopped me from doing anything too obvious,¡± the villain admitted. ¡°She¡¯s not here now though, is she?¡±Erich had no response. ¡°So that begs the question,¡± Hardlight continued. ¡°What¡¯s to stop me from killing you here and now?¡± Erich¡¯s answer was immediate. ¡°You still need me!¡± He most definitely did not shriek. ¡°Kill me and you¡¯ve got no way of getting the Ball and Chain offline.¡± ¡°I suppose that¡¯s true,¡± the villain acknowledged. ¡°How fortuitous for you.¡± Nothing fortunate about it, Erich thought. It¡¯s by design you overgrown thug. Still, he wasn¡¯t dumb enough to voice that opinion. Instead he simply sighed in relief as the incredibly deadly energized blade pulled away from him. ¡°I hope you bear in mind that this is just a stay of execution,¡± the villain said. He leaned against the wall. ¡°I¡¯m not much a fan of traitors, so I¡¯m still deciding whether or not to keep you in one piece when this is over. How useful you are is a big factor.¡± Erich returned to the control panel. ¡°I thought Bronte was still trying to win me over,¡± He resisted the urge to run a hand over the deep gouge in the front of his suit. His HUD had already displayed the extent of the damage. Mostly superficial, he noted with some small relief. ¡°My girl¡¯s greedy like that. Never one to throw away a tool when she could still get use out of it. I¡¯m different. Defective parts go in the trash. To make way for functional ones.¡± ¡°She¡¯s not going to like that,¡± he pointed out. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what she likes,¡± the villain retorted, a bit of heat in his voice. ¡°Christ, I go to ground for a few months and all you people forget who¡¯s in charge. You run off to play king of the scrapheap. Olivia just drops off the grid. Even Sarah¡¯s got some strange new ideas swirling round in that pretty little head of hers.¡± Erich had no idea what to say to that. So he said nothing. Which seemed to be enough for Hard-Light as he shifted his attention away from the engineer. ¡°How are things going down there Olivia?¡± Hard-Light said as his finger flicked up to the comm-bead in his ear. ¡°Dad!?¡± Olivia shrieked. ¡°You¡¯re¡ª What? How!?¡± Seems that Gravity didn¡¯t know her old man was still kicking around. ¡°Went exactly according to plan, Daddy.¡± Bronte¡¯s voice cut in, cutting off her half-sister. The blonde woman sounded just slightly out of breath, but there was no disguising the glee in her voice. ¡°Electricity fucked with Zig-Zag¡¯s shapeshifting ability, just like we expected. Gravity managed to push her into the cryochamber without too much trouble.¡± ¡°She''s contained then?¡± Hard-Light spoke over Gravity¡¯s loud shouting. ¡°An ice cube,¡± Bronte confirmed. ¡°I¡¯ve got Gravity floating them over to a storage pod now. Well, at least she was doing that before she found out you were here. Now she¡¯s throwing a tantrum.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a fucking tantrum!¡± Gravity said. ¡°You knew!? Wait, what am I saying? Of course you fucking knew.¡± Unfortunately for her, Hard-Light was unmoved. ¡°Get her into a pod Olivia. We¡¯ll talk later.¡± The note of command in the man¡¯s voice was crystal clear, and even though Erich wasn¡¯t the one it was aimed at, he felt a shiver shoot up his spine. Silence hung in the air as tension rose in the room. ¡°¡­Ok,¡± Gravity said finally. An audible click indicated that she¡¯d turned off her communicator. An act which elicited a frustrated sigh from Hard-Light. ¡°Is she doing it?¡± he asked. ¡°She¡¯s not happy about it, but she¡¯s doing what you asked,¡± Bronte said. ¡°Want me to tell her to turn her comms back on?¡± ¡°No, leave her be for now. We¡¯ll have a long discussion about obedience when this is all over. A discussion I think that is long overdue given the current circumstances.¡± Erich didn¡¯t miss the way Hard-Light¡¯s helmet slowly turned in his direction as he spoke. Erich in turn glanced at his HUD. Fifteen minutes.
¡°Alright Erich, now that we¡¯re all one big happy family again, how long until you can turn off the Ball and Chain?¡± Bronte asked as she sauntered into the control room.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Erich nervously glanced at his HUD. Six minutes. Gravity shuffled in, and Erich didn¡¯t miss the way her eyes remained fixed on Hard-Light as she did. A lot going on in that girl¡¯s head. ¡°I could have it undone any minute now,¡± he lied. ¡°Though, given that my ability to turn it off might be the only thing keeping my head attached to my shoulders, I¡¯m wary about finishing the job.¡± ¡°Daddy didn¡¯t give you the recruitment pitch?¡± Erich eyed the older supervillain, who was leaning against the wall at the back of the room. ¡°He gave me a pitch of sorts,¡± Erich said. ¡°Do as I say or die?¡± Bronte guessed. Erich nodded. Bronte¡¯s eyes crinkled with amusement. ¡°Then he summarized it quite nicely. Do what we want or we¡¯ll put a bullet in your brain. That¡¯s going to be the ongoing contract by the way. Keep doing what we want, keep living.¡± Erich frowned. ¡°Your last offer of employment was much nicer.¡± ¡°Yeah, well that was before you got the crazy idea into your head that you could go it alone,¡± Hard-Light said. ¡°Seems all that carrot made you forget the stick. So, this time around we¡¯re going to be keeping a closer eye on you. No more of my limp-wristed daughter babysitting your ass. Instead it¡¯s gonna be people I can trust, with orders to do what they have to if you get any ideas about your standing in life.¡± Bronte rolled her eyes. ¡°Not exactly how I would have put it, but essentially correct.¡± ¡°So basically, you¡¯re going to cuff me to a workbench and tell me to work.¡± Despite knowing it was never going to happen, he still felt his pulse quicken and his gut sour at the idea. Idly, he glanced at Gravity to see if she would say anything, but the young woman was still staring at her father. That hurt a little. Once upon a time he knew she would have leapt to his defence. Out of moral outrage or a simple sense of camaraderie. No longer it seemed. Not that he blamed her. He¡¯d done nothing to earn that loyalty, and he¡¯d done nothing to maintain it. Two minutes¡­ ¡°And the kids? My factory?¡± he asked Bronte, stalling for time. ¡°You feeling ok, Erich?¡± the woman asked. ¡°Because for a second there, that almost sounded like concern for someone else?¡± ¡°Hardly.¡± Erich scoffed. ¡°I sunk time and resources into the Block Party. To see it abandoned due to a¡­ change in management strikes me as inefficient.¡± Bronte moved to speak again, but Hard-Light cut her off. ¡°Well suck it up princess. The only thing we¡¯re doing with your little clubhouse is stripping it for parts and acquiring that little drone army of yours. The kids can scatter to the winds or die. Makes no difference to me.¡± Despite knowing the entire situation was hypothetical, for him at least, Erich couldn¡¯t help but feel at certain level of umbrage at the man¡¯s callous wastefulness. ¡°You¡¯d just get rid of them?¡± Hard-Light moved to speak but this time he was cut off by Bronte, drawing a resentful glare from the man. ¡°You¡¯ve spoiled them. We aren¡¯t going to waste time and money the way you did. Street urchins are useful because they work for next-to-nothing. Yours won¡¯t though. Not any more.¡± One minute¡­ ¡°So you¡¯re going to disband a skilled labour force because you can¡¯t be bothered paying them the bare minimum of what they''re worth?¡± He asked in disbelief. ¡°In a word? Yes.¡± She shrugged. ¡°We can always find more urchins to occupy your factory.¡± ¡°And this time we won¡¯t ruin them with your pansy-ass humanitarian bullshit.¡± Hard-Light growled. ¡°We¡¯re a gang, not a charity. All you did with those kids is make them greedy. Uppity. Ruined them for any future work. No one wants street urchins with an inflated ego.¡± ¡°So what¡¯s it going to be Erich.¡± Bronte asked. ¡°Put that well cultivated sense of self preservation to work by falling in line, or have your grey matter splattered over that monitor?¡± Ten seconds¡­ If he were someone else, he might have used the moment the timer clicked down to zero to make a quip. An insult. Some witticism about how the family of psychos could take their offer and shove it up their ass. He didn¡¯t do any of that because he wasn¡¯t a fucking moron. ¡°You win,¡± he said. ¡°I had a good run, but I¡¯ll pick survival over freedom every time.¡± After all his little timer was only the estimated flight time between the Hannold prison in Alaska and here. Any number of factors could result in a deviation of minutes to¡ª The security console pinged, drawing everyone¡¯s attention. Which was fortunate, because Bronte looked like she¡¯d been about to start gloating. But also unfortunate because Erich realized what it meant. He resisted hysteria. Seems she came straight here without delay. How just like her¡­ Another ping went off. Then another. A fourth ping rang out in rapid succession before Hard-Light got to speak. ¡°What¡¯s all the racket?¡± he asked. ¡°You finally got the Ball and Chain offline?¡± Not even close. Why the fuck did I ever think this was a good idea? Because he was desperate, but that did little to assuage the fear that rose up as he spoke. ¡°No,¡± he said, throat unreasonably dry. ¡°Those pings are security drones going offline.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve got intruders?¡± Bronte asked. Her brow furrowed even as Hard-Light ignited his blades. Erich didn¡¯t answer as he pulled up the facility map dotted with a handy overlay of drone locations. Even as he first laid eyed on it, he saw another dot wink out. The path the intruder was and had taken was clear. ¡°They¡¯re heading straight for the control room,¡± he said. One minute and thirty seconds at current pace, he mentally calculated. Christ, he always known she was fast, but¡­ He¡¯d hoped to have more time. ¡°How many,¡± Bronte asked. Her gauntlets ignited with electricity. ¡°It seems it¡¯s just one person,¡± he said with deliberate calm. ¡°The drones are going down in rapid succession, but always one at a time. Given how fast it is, I¡¯d say they¡¯re a speedster.¡± ¡°Get a picture,¡± Hard-Light ordered. ¡°Give me some idea who we¡¯re dealing with?¡± ¡°Given now fast they¡¯re moving,¡± Erich said,¡°By the time I capture a decent shot you¡¯ll be meeting them in person.¡± As if to emphasize his point, a crash echoed through the halls. Still relatively far away, but the second that followed was louder and closer. ¡°You don¡¯t want to fight in here.¡± Erich said, unflinching even as Hard-Light turned to glare in his direction. ¡°Can¡¯t damage the consoles. Otherwise all of this was for nothing. Hell that¡¯s probably their objective. To buy time.¡± The old man looked like he wanted to argue, but after a quick glance at Bronte he relented with an angry growl. ¡°Fine, take them in the hall,¡± he said turning to march out. ¡°Bronte stay here with the kid, make sure he gets the fucking Ball and Chain offline. Gravity you¡¯re with¡­ Where the fuck is Olivia!?¡± The yellow clad heroine was nowhere to be seen.
¡°Where is he?¡± Despite herself, Gravity found herself more than just a little awestruck by the sight in front of her. Sure, she¡¯d been speaking with the woman almost constantly via phone and message since she¡¯d received that text out of the blue all those months ago. She¡¯d thought it a ruse at first, and if she was honest, right up until a few moments ago a part of her had still believed it to be a ruse. But here she was, in the flesh. The Paragon of Justice herself. Blur. Then she noticed the sheer intensity in the other woman¡¯s eyes, and the trail of destroyed walls, doors and drones, in her wake. ¡°He¡¯s moving to meet you in the hall just before the main control room,¡± she said. How the hero across from her knew of Hard-Light¡¯s survival she didn''t bother pondering. ¡°Bronte¡¯s hanging back in the control room.¡± Despite the fact that she¡¯d left the control room before Blur had even entered the prison complex, she was still keeping tabs on her ¡®family¡¯ via their communications. At least until they figure out what¡¯s happened and lock me out. Her gut churning with complex emotions. Though by then¡­ well, it won¡¯t really matter will it? As it was, Hard-Light was cussing her out over the radio, demanding she meet him in the hall. It seemed the idea of her double crossing him hadn¡¯t even crossed his mind. She felt a small thrill of vindictive happiness at that, even as her heart pounded with nervousness that bordered on hysteria. Only the presence of the woman in front of her was keeping her from a full-blown panic attack. Blur¡¯s lips had creased into a frown, presumably at the knowledge that Hard-Light was going to meet her in the hallway. Still with her question answered, the heroine looked like she was about to dash once more¡­ before she paused. ¡°Does he know it¡¯s me?¡± A bit surprised at the sudden, almost tentative, question, Gravity answered. ¡°No, of course not.¡± She hadn¡¯t breathed a word of what they¡¯d planned. Why would she? Her strange, out of nowhere question answered, Blur shot off again, sprinting in the direction of the main hall. Gravity watched her go, before jogging behind, her mind aflutter with nervousness at the coming confrontation with her family. As she ran, some small part of her wondered what Erich would be doing during all this. Probably hiding and waiting to see who won. Still, with any luck his pragmatic nature would get the better of him when he saw both Bronte and Hard-Light in cuffs. Blur seemed interested in what he knew, so he could probably negotiate some sort of plea deal if he surrendered without a fight. At least, that was the small hope she held for her one-time friend. Then the sounds of another doorway being shattered erupted up ahead, and any thoughts beyond the coming confrontation fell away. Chapter Sixty One Well, shit, Hard-Light thought as he saw just who was coming for him. ¡°Hard-Light?¡± Blur said as she stopped at the entrance of the hall. ¡°I thought you were dead?¡± ¡°You sound disappointed.¡± Hard-Light warily eyed the woman across from him. ¡°It seems even the Blur has to think twice before fighting me.¡± ¡°Hardly,¡± Blur scoffed. ¡°I was just hoping to see someone else here. Taking you down will just have to be my consolation prize.¡± She started advancing again. ¡°Ah, hoping for a family reunion?¡± That stopped the woman in her tracks. ¡°What do you know?¡± ¡°Enough,¡± Hard-Light said simply as he capitalized on the woman¡¯s momentary hesitation. He shot her in the chest, the explosive vaporization blowing the heroine backward with a good chunk of her chest missing. Silence filled the room, broken only by the sound of steam wafting from the corpse of the world¡¯s most famous hero. ¡°¡­Well, shit. That was easy.¡± Hard-Light said, more than a little stunned. Perhaps her abilities have been exaggerated. A force blast took him in the chest, blowing him across the room just as surely as it drove the air from his lungs. Before he could even figure out what had just happened he activated both his blades to block a blow from above. The sheer force of it rang down his arms and drove him back another foot.He found himself staring into the very much alive eyes of Blur. The woman¡¯s face was split into a rictus grin that seemed entirely out of place on the paragon of justice. More importantly, her eyes were dilated in a manner that was familiar. Is she high? Throwing the thought from his mind, he shoved the smaller woman back as he dashed in for a counter-attack. One that connected, driving into the woman¡¯s ribs with the sound of sizzling flesh. Which was why he was caught off guard once again as the mace in the woman¡¯s hand narrowly missed his head, slamming into his shoulder. What the fuck!? Jumping back, his arm throbbing with pain, the villain backpedalled furiously as the entirely unharmed woman came at him with a flurry of blows. Each one was like a hammer, jarring his now injured shoulder and sending pain lancing up his neck. Drugs numbing the pain? He franticly tried to figure out how the fairly slender woman was pummelling his guard with strikes that would have given some Bruisers trouble. Still her frantic attack was not without weakness. Skilled as she might have been, whatever substance she was taking was clouding her judgement. Slicing out between attacks, Hard-Light was once again rewarded by the sound of sizzling flesh as his blade cut into the woman¡¯s forearm. This time he refused to let his guard down. And he was rewarded for that caution when the limb that should have been inoperable blurred before coming at him again; as hale and healthy as ever. Not numbness then. Regeneration. The exact nature of Blur¡¯s powers had always been something of a subject of debate in both the civilian and the villain communities. Some thought she was a Bruiser on account of her resilience, others an Artificer because of her gadgets, and others still thought she was some manner of Speedster on account of her sheer speed. The only consistency between all of them was her habit of ¡®blurring¡¯ during a fight. Guess I¡¯ll have to go for the head then¡­ Perhaps under different circumstances he might have hesitated at the thought of killing one of the most famous heroes of this generation. That would bring a lot of heat down on his head¡ªassuming the Guild figured out who did it. Unfortunately for him, given that said hero was directly across from him and coming at him with all the tact and grace of a berserker on steroids, he had little choice in the matter. The two locked weapons again, Hard-Light¡¯s projections sparking against Blur¡¯s mace. Increased strength or not, sheer weight had a role to play as Hard-Light shoved the shorter woman back. Putting his theory to the test, this time he swung for the woman¡¯s neck, and was rewarded when she chose to parry rather than take the blow. Well, at least she can be hurt. He took the offensive. The woman moved to parry another blow, only to hiss in surprise as Hard-Light¡¯s projection twisted into a hook, wrenching the weapon and pulling her off balance. She let out a gasp as Hard-Light¡¯s shoulder slammed into her frame, forcing her a step back. It provided Hard-Light with the opening he needed. Moving with the momentum, the air whistled as he swung, taking the heroine¡¯s arm off at the elbow, sending it and the weapon it held flying. In any other situation the fight would have been finished there. Even for a regenerator, losing an arm was pretty traumatic. Even if it wasn¡¯t, his opponent had just lost her only melee weapon. Surrender was pretty much guaranteed. Still, Hard-Light hadn¡¯t lived as long as he had by engaging in half measures. His second blade was aimed unerringly for the woman¡¯s neck. Which was why he was surprised when the heroine spun with the first blow, deftly twisting around to allow the blade to pass harmlessly over her head. She brought a foot around in a perfect arc to slam his head. The counter from an unexpected angle stumbled him, his head ringing, and he only barely managed to avoid the woman¡¯s follow up kicks. Blinking away spots in his vision, he back peddled franticly, only to grunt as several gunshots slammed into his shield. Half blinded, it was only long experience that had him diving away from the unexpected gunfire. He slid behind a nearby pillar. When the hell did she get a gun? She sure as shit didn¡¯t have one when she came in. He¡¯d checked. She had a mace. That was it. Which was mostly why he¡¯d chosen to start their little engagement by shooting her. Pain throbbing in his head, he waited for the distinctive click of a clip running empty before poking his head out, his own gun in hand. He flinched back, pistol flying from his hand, as a dozen more rounds slammed into his hiding spot and his shields. That was bullshit. Apparently his opponent didn¡¯t need to reload¡ªsomehow. He prepared to tank a few hits as he dove from cover, his shields lighting up as he dashed toward his opponent energized by frustration. His hasty decision was vindicated when he saw his opponent armed with little more than their apparently magical pistol. Experience, or the drugs she was taking, allowed the woman to duck underneath his running strike, rolling forward. Unphased, Hard-Light didn¡¯t hesitate to twist back around for a second strike, only to jerk in surprise as his blade impacted a very familiar mace. Did she pick it up again? No, she couldn¡¯t have. The weapon had been thrown in entirely the opposite direction from where she¡¯d rolled. So how did she have it now? He parried a series of blows from the now rearmed heroine. Does her gear have some sort of bullshit ability to teleport? Blur ducked under another blow and stabbed back, only to have her mace deflected by Hard-Light¡¯s blade. In doing so she missed the fist that followed it. The blow disorientated her, sending her a few steps back. Under different circumstances he might have pursued, but he needed the moment to catch his breath. He wasn¡¯t as young as he used to be, and even if he was, going toe to toe with Blur was like trying to wrestle down a bull. Power enough to make his arms shake backed up by a stamina that seemed endless. Hell, is she even sweating? She wasn¡¯t. What kind of horseshit is that? ¡°I guess you¡¯re reputation isn¡¯t total bullshit,¡± Blur said, irritation on display. Despite the fact that his entire body was throbbing with pain, Hard-Light couldn¡¯t help but grin. ¡°If this old man is too much for you, you¡¯re welcome to step away.¡± ¡°Hardly,¡± Blur scoffed. ¡°This is just taking longer than I wanted it to.¡± He wanted to argue, but he knew she was right. He was getting some good licks in, but that was more a result of carelessness on Blur¡¯s part than skill on his . ¡°Fuck it,¡± Blur said finally. ¡°You¡¯ll be going into cryo after this anyway. Not like you¡¯ll be spreading it around.¡± ¡°Spreading wha¡ª¡± Blur exploded.
¡°Christ, I hate doing that.¡± Blur grunted as her powers reset. At the very least, her latest stop point had effectively purged the stimms from her system so she could think clearly again. Enough to know that she¡¯d lost her patience too easily. The hallway was a mess. Still, the device she¡¯d used was more percussive than anything else, so it wasn¡¯t like the damage to her surroundings was anything more than skin deep.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Well, mostly. Hard-Light had been blown clean across the room. Though, to give the tough bastard credit, he was still conscious. If only just. ¡°What the fuck was that shit!?¡± The man, kneeling against the wall, coughed. ¡°Me getting serious for half a second, asshole,¡± she muttered. The man couldn¡¯t hear her. The explosion would have blown out his eardrums. Dodging an ineffectual swipe from the prone man¡¯s blades she casually kicked him onto his back and started pulling on her powers for a sedative. She started reaching for the usual memories, before remembering that they were supposed to be using that new stuff from Cardine Chemical. Pulling up the correct set of memories, she felt her body shift. The slight hunger she¡¯d felt earlier faded, filled with the vague tipsiness of one too many drinks. She frowned as she remembered that she¡¯d spent that day dodging the advances of the company¡¯s incredibly pushy CEO. In doing so she¡¯d imbibed more drinks than she really should have, in an attempt to make the wait before the new sedative¡¯s reveal tolerable. It hadn¡¯t worked. Should probably make a new stop point when I get back to base, she thought. Don¡¯t want to be slightly drunk every time I have to dope a perp. Taking the sedative, she leaned down to administer it quickly so she could pull up another stop point¡ªand almost jumped out of her skin when someone shouted from behind. ¡°Don¡¯t kill him!¡± She twisted round to glare in Gravity¡¯s direction. ¡°It¡¯s a sedative.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± the yellow clad woman said. ¡°When did you get here anyway?¡± She asked, wondering if the woman had seen her¡­ explode. That would make this more awkward, and would no doubt require the former villain fill out half a dozen non-disclosure agreements. Which combined with the amount she would already be filling out to ¡®switch sides,¡¯ well it might just drive the woman back to a life of villainy, if only to avoid the inevitable writer¡¯s cramp. ¡°Just now,¡± the yellow-clad woman said. ¡°You move really goddamn quick. And you won¡­ even quicker.¡± The woman¡¯s eyes seemed to linger on Hard-Light¡¯s downed form. ¡°He always seemed so¡­ invincible. I knew you were stronger than him¡­ I just didn¡¯t expect for you to beat him¡­ so fast.¡± Blur shrugged, more than a little uncomfortable with the awe in the woman¡¯s voice. ¡°Once you reach a certain level, fights usually don¡¯t last more than a minute.¡± Blur knew she was an exception to that rule, but Gravity didn¡¯t need to know it. ¡°I guess,¡± Gravity said. Driving the needle into Hard-Light¡¯s neck with just a little more force was really required, Blur clambered to her feet. ¡°Do you know where Jas¡ª Mechromancer is?¡± To her dismay, Gravity shook her head. ¡°No. Comms dropped out completely after your fight with Hard-Light started.¡± ¡°Shit,¡± Blur muttered. ¡°You stay here and keep an eye on him. I¡¯m going after Mechromancer.¡± She didn¡¯t wait to her the other woman¡¯s response, as she dashed for the control centre. Pulling on her ¡®Close Combat¡¯ time stop once again, she felt the familiar cocktail of stimulants run through her system as well as the discomfort of a dozen odd cybernetics phasing into being beneath her skin. Still, her trusty mace reforming in her hands was a comfort. A comfort she sorely needed for what might just end up being a¡­ trying confrontation. Which was why she was surprised to face no resistance at the doorway of the control centre. Instead she was greeted by an unexpected and worrying sight. A blonde woman lay sprawled out on the ground. Bronte¡­ The shallow rise and fall of her chest told the heroine the blonde woman was still alive, if in critical condition. It looked like something had taken both her hands off at the wrist ¨C before messily applying a tourniquet to each. She wondered if it was a weapon malfunction as she noticed the blackened scorch marks at the edge of the wounds. Such things weren¡¯t entirely uncommon where Artificer tech was concerned, but the timing was odd. Either way, another combatant down made her job simpler. The woman would survive for now. ¡°He¡¯s not here,¡± Blur spoke into her communicator. ¡°Bronte is, and she¡¯s hurt, but no Mechromancer.¡± ¡°She¡¯s what!?¡± Gravity¡¯s voiced chimed in. ¡°Is she¡ª¡± ¡°She¡¯s alive,¡± Blur cut the other woman off, ¡°but right now I need you to focus. Where would Mechromancer be if not here?¡± The heroine had to wait a few agonizing seconds while the other woman thought. ¡°Cell Block A,¡± she said finally. ¡°That¡¯s where we were going to start extracting the prisoners. If he¡¯s not in the control room¡­ he might have cracked the Ball and Chain.¡± A shiver went down Blur¡¯s spine at the thought. Her primary motivation in coming on this mission was personal, but if the Mechromancer had managed to crack the Ball and Chain¡­It became more imperative that she find him. ¡°I¡¯m moving. Hard-Light should be reasonably secure under sedation, so you can move up to aid Bronte. Do what you can to keep her alive until emergency services get here.¡± ¡°G-got it.¡±
¡°Hey Sis.¡± It sounded like him. The same jolted, almost monotone speech. It looked like him too. The same mannerisms. The same awkward, slightly hunched posture. Like a man uncomfortable in his own skin. The only thing that didn¡¯t fit the image of her brother was his suit of power armour. It was crude. Haphazard. The sort of thing a newbie hero¡ªor villain¡ªwould wear. The sort of thing they¡¯d used to laugh together about once upon a time. Watching the news and pointing out the myriad design flaws they could find. They¡¯d made a competition of it. She never won, but she¡¯d enjoyed it all the same. It was the only time Jason ever really seemed to¡­ come out of his shell. ¡°Well, you caught me.¡± The stranger in her brother¡¯s skin said. ¡°To be totally honest, I was hoping Hard-Light would last a little longer.¡± ¡°What are you?¡± She asked, hating the way her voice hitched, almost imperceptibly. ¡°Plastic surgery? A clone? An android?¡± The man, Mechromancer, scoffed. So similar to Jason. ¡°It¡¯s kind of amusing,¡± he said, ¡°that even here and now, in your mind, this is all about you.¡± ¡°Answer me,¡± she demanded. ¡°I still hate it. The inherent dismissal of it. The idea that I¡¯m not my own person. Just a means. A vector from which to target you.¡± She never thought of her brother that way, and to hear it said by this imposter¡­ it made her blood boil. ¡°Answer me, or I¡¯ll make you answer me,¡± she uttered through gritted teeth. If her PR people were here they would be appalled at the venom in her tone. She didn¡¯t care. ¡°What makes you so sure that I¡¯m not the real deal?¡± the man asked. ¡°Jason¡¯s dead.¡± She¡¯d checked. Oh how she¡¯d checked. She¡¯d turned over every rock. Shook down every crook. Praying that it wasn¡¯t the case. All her efforts. All her attempts to skirt the rules in the name of finding answers. They¡¯d all come back with the same result. Jason was dead. ¡­and now this asshole was pretending to be him. Mocking his memory. ¡°Nope,¡± the man said. Casual contempt pervaded his voice,. ¡°And don¡¯t take another step or a lot of people are going to end up with perforated craniums.¡± She frowned, not realizing she¡¯d begun to advance. With a thought she pulled away from her CC time stop, instead pulling on her ranged one. It wasn¡¯t her preferred loadout. No drugs to dim the pain as metal and ceramics phased into places they really shouldn¡¯t. Places that were lethal for a human. Given enough time. Of course, that was true for most of her combat loadouts. ¡°You think the life of some scumbags is more important to me than bringing you down,¡± she asked. But she warily stayed where she was. Even as emotions flowed twisted in her mind, she was searching for a way to get the Omni-Pad away from the villain without setting it off. She really should have brought Techno along. ¡°Yes. Yes I do.¡± The doppelganger said it with such confidence. It was infuriating. ¡°I doubt your personality has changed much in the intervening years. Still the perfect ¡®hero¡¯ at heart.¡± She hated it. The implied familiarity. The assumption that he knew anything about her. He was just another villain searching for a way to beat her. To bring her down. He¡¯d just chosen a route that villains wiser than him had decided wasn¡¯t worth the risk. ¡°You aren¡¯t my brother. He¡¯s dead. You¡¯re just the result of some asshole desecrating his memories.¡± He¡¯d pay for it. Make no mistake. ¡°You don¡¯t really think that,¡± the villain continued. ¡°I¡¯ve seen your little chats with Gravity. Some part of you believes. Probably because they never found a body.¡± He was right. It galled her to admit it, but he was right. Even as her mind boiled with rage at the insinuation, god help her, some tiny part of her wanted it to be true. ¡°The experts said he was vaporized.¡± ¡°They were wrong. Well not really. As I recall, the first reports suggested I might have survived. Something about a relatively unscathed patch of ground where I might have been sitting? They only changed that theory later.¡± She remembered that report. She¡¯d obsessed over it. It had represented a chance. A hope. One that was ultimately proven false. She wanted to yell at this scumbag for bringing it up. To berate him for not even having the basic fucking human decency to let the dead lie in peace. She didn¡¯t though. She was a hero, and right now hundreds of lives rested on her ability to control her self long enough to come up with a plan to disable the omni-pad in the villain¡¯s hand. So she let him talk. ¡°And I can probably guess why,¡± the villain went on. ¡°The Guild might have tried to cover it up, but you were on the war path for weeks afterwards. Trying to find the villain that kidnapped your brother. You certainly had me nervous. I kept thinking you were going to bust down the door of my crappy hotel room.¡± The man laughed, as if at a particularly embarrassing memory. ¡°Hell, I¡¯m pretty sure they only changed the theory from kidnapped to vaporized to get you to calm down again. It was certainly a weight off my shoulders when it popped up on the news.¡± ¡°You aren¡¯t my brother!¡± She shouted, her patience reaching its end. The man¡¯s smile fell . His eyes dulled and his features twisted towards a grimace. As if he was speaking to a particularly slow student. It was familiar. Oh so familiar. ¡°When we were twelve,¡± he began. Blur felt her heart pounding in her chest. She knew what story he was going to use. ¡°You had us both sneak out of the house to ¡®fight crime¡¯ after you first got your powers. I got stabbed in the hand and you put a mugger in the hospital with four broken ribs and a perforated lung. Our parents got a call from the hospital and put a media blackout on the whole thing. Didn¡¯t want the ¡®little incident with unlicensed vigilantism¡¯ to tarnish our reputations when we joined the guild.¡± ¡°Anyone with enough time and resources could uncover that.¡± She shook her head vehemently. ¡°It proves nothing beyond you, or your creator, being an obsessive creep.¡± ¡°Perhaps,¡± he admitted. ¡°Though I think you might be underestimating the lengths dear old Mom and Dad went to bury that incident. You might think yourself a paragon of justice, but Mom can be a bit more pragmatic.¡± She flinched. Just for a moment. So fast that it would be almost impossible to see. ¡°Still,¡± he continued. ¡°I doubt anyone else knows that afterwards you confessed to me that you were so terrified you wet yourself and had to abandon your panties in a dumpster while we waited for an ambulance.¡± Her heart stopped in her chest. ¡°We laughed about it at the time, but afterwards I could remember thinking that it was the only time that you expressed even a hint of doubt. Something beyond that perfect fa?ade.¡± It couldn¡¯t be. It couldn¡¯t! ¡°Ah, there¡¯s that belief.¡± He smiled. That damningly familiar smile. Jason¡¯s smile. ¡°The stunned realization. The happiness. The sadness. The betrayal. The anger. The fear.¡± He sighed. ¡°Save it. I don¡¯t want or need it, it¡¯s the Blur I want, not my sister.¡± Lucy barely heard him as she started walking forward. ¡°Jason¡­ I¡­ I can¡¯t believe your alive. We need to¡ª¡± She froze as he raised the Omni-pad once more into view. ¡°To stay where we are, lest something go explosively wrong,¡± he said. A hint of irritation entered his voice. And that small phrase reminded Lucy of where she was. Where Jason was. ¡­And what he was doing. ¡°Why Jason? Why are you doing this? This isn¡¯t you. You¡¯re not¡­ like this.¡± She didn¡¯t understand. Couldn¡¯t understand. ¡°I¡¯m the villain. You¡¯re the hero,¡± he said simply, as if that explained anything at all. It didn¡¯t. Not a damn thing. ¡°Jason¡­ you can¡¯t beat me,¡± she said. She''d unconsciously fallen back on her diplomatic training. ¡°Can¡¯t I?¡± He laughed, emotion cracking through the apathetic front he.d created, and just a hint of hysteria. ¡°I mean, I can understand why you¡¯d think that. A no-name villain like me, a nobody, against the Blur? It¡¯s laughable. Hell, for you it¡¯s just an average Tuesday. You put chumps like me in the slammer all the time.¡± She started forward again, just a tiny step. ¡°Jason¡­ You can stop this. We can stop this. Here and now.¡± Erich waved a hand in front of him forcing her to stop in her tracks as his finger wavered dangerously on the button. ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± he said. ¡°No, I can¡¯t beat you. At least, not in a fight. I take my hand off this button and you flatten me in seconds.¡± He giggled, hysteria coming back strong. ¡°Which is why the victory conditions change. A win for me? For a villain on the level of the Mechromancer? That¡¯s escaping.¡± Her heart skipped a beat. ¡°There¡¯s no way out of here.¡± ¡°You think?¡± She frowned, hesitating. ¡°There is nowhere you can go that I won¡¯t find you.¡± ¡°Even out west?¡± he asked. ¡°Even there.¡± She affirmed, meaning every word. ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened to you Jason, but I¡¯ll find you. I¡¯ll bring you home, one way or another.¡± ¡°The only way I¡¯m coming with you is in cuffs,¡± he snarled. She nodded. ¡°If that¡¯s what needs to happen to get you home.¡± ¡°Good.¡± There was no warning. No hint about what was about to happen. He just disappeared. One second her brother was there. Then he wasn¡¯t. Jason was gone. The ¡®Mechromancer¡¯ was gone. Lucy screamed. Anger, relief, sorrow and frustration melding into a single symphony.
Erich barely had time to react to his change in surroundings before a collar clamped around his neck and he was shoved down into the dirt. ¡°Just you?¡± A voice said from overhead. ¡°I guess you failed then. Can¡¯t rightly say what else I was expecting from a bunch of amateurs.¡± Erich didn¡¯t respond. He couldn¡¯t even if he wanted to. Though even as electricity ran through the collar and into his body, he managed to retain his smile. I beat her. Finally. He wasn¡¯t nothing. He¡¯d beaten the Blur. Uncaring of his thoughts, the voice from overhead continued. ¡°Well, I hope you perform better in the Dome than you did on this little heist of yours boy. You¡¯re gonna need to. The flow of electricity stopped, and he collapsed bonelessly into the dirt. ¡°Get him to processing.¡± The voice said as two powerful hands seized him by the shoulders, dragging him up. ¡°Tell the boys at the front desk that we¡¯ve got another contestant for the games. Ten million in debts.¡± The man scoffed. ¡°Though we''ll be lucky if he pays even half of that off before he bites it.¡± Erich didn¡¯t care. Zig-Zag was gone. Gravity was gone. Bronte was gone. Hard-Light was gone. He¡¯d given Blur a black eye. Everything was going according to plan. ¡°Welcome to the Dome, kid.¡±