22

"He is in there?" Lung asked with a grunt. The two ABB members nodded silently, more out of fear than anything. They were standing outside of an old farm house just off highway exit on the way to New York state. It obviously had been abandoned a long time ago, with all the glass broken and wooden boards fallen into a state of decay. But even when the land around it had all been purchased, someone had still been making payments on the house. The person using it wasn't a secret, far from it. It was just generally better to leave him alone.

But they were up against a different sort of enemy if recent days were anything to go by. It was time for Lung to risk it. And Supesu wasn't that hostile, for the most part.

Lung walked up the garage door where a light could be seen underneath the old door that couldn't close properly. He raised a fist to knock on it but paused.

"Get back in the car." Lung told the other men. "I'll be quick as possible." The ABB members didn't need to be told twice, all but running back to their car. With that done, Lung knocked on the garage door.

Instantly he was met with furious, high pitched laughter before for a squeaky, breathless voice called out to him saying,

"Come in, come in, hehe. Supesu so rarely gets visitors."

Lung only hesitated for a moment before reaching down and grabbing the edge of the garage door and pulling it open with a loud screeching noise.

Inside, Supesu was perched on a chair watching cartoons and eating a bowl of fruity cereal, laughing as the characters were bent out of shape as cartoons do.

Supesu was the more humanoid of the Case 53s, maintaining a humanoid form in a broad sense of the word. His arms and legs were anywhere from three to four feet long as well as equal in length to each other. His skin was clinging to him like he had long since starved, with his ribs sticking out like a cliff face over the area where his stomach would be. He didn't wear any clothing except for the white scarf around his neck, which allowed Lung to see he didn't have any genitalia of any sort. And given how high pitched his voice could be, Lung wasn't quite sure he was a male at all.

Supesu slowly turned his head to look at Lung, showing him the permanent smile that was almost too large for his face as the skin peeled back his lips so tightly it revealed every last tooth in his mouth. His eyes were slitted, like a snake's, and were partially hidden behind black hair that covered them.

"Supesu is visited by the dragon. Supesu is honored." As he said it, Supesu set the bowl of cereal down and started to lean backwards out of the chair, his back bending in an unnatural manner. As his hands touched the floor the rest of his body came with him, putting him in a spider like position on the floor as his knees bent backward so every limb was pointed away from his body.

"What brings the dragon to Supesu?" He asked. Lung felt a chill go down his spine as he realized the creature was speaking perfectly without touching his lips together.

"I've come to recruit you," Lung said as strongly as he could.

"Recruit Supesu? Why, The Workers must be giving you trouble. Indeed, indeed."

"How do you know of-"

"The Workers?" It asked, tilting its head oddly. "Supesu has television, you know."

"Then you will know that they-"

"Are dangerous, yes. Supesu knows. Supesu has seen. Supesu knows Workers better than Asian dragon thinks. But Supesu is content in house. Supesu has food, has cartoon. Life couldn't be better for Supesu.

"But Supesu wants more," It suddenly said, turning completely around and scurrying to its work bench. "You can give Supesu more?"

Lung swallowed. "More what?"

"More Supesu! Space!" The creature pulled a tiny rock from its work bench and tossed it on the ground, it glowed purple for a moment before creating a light blue bubble the size of a basket ball. Supesu released a giggle as a bubble was filled with bright blue flames.

"Supesu made this bubble special, so collective kinetic energy of a gas molecule's lifetime it shortened to one moment. That is my supesu, my space. Supesu makes rule for supesu, and supesu deliver for Supesu."

"You wish to use your power more," Lung realized.

"Yes, yes," the creature hissed in delight. "Supesu not dumb. Supesu knows if he steals more than he steals now he will have to fight other shiny capes. Supesu wants to help dirty capes, they protect Supesu so Supesu can make bigger supesu."

"I can do that for you," Lung said. "And I can promise that my men will treat you with kindness and respect."

"Kindness? Oh no no. Only one person has ever shown me kindness, she give Supesu scarf see?" It lifted the scarf for Lung to look at. "Thought Supesu was homeless, gave to Supesu to keep warm for winter." It paused as if stuck in reflection. "She was first person to ever die in supesu."

***

"I still don't understand why we can't send men to take the ripe territory," Whirlygig said sourly. Scribe sighed and pushed his glasses up on his nose.

Whirlygig. Scribe's power told him. Not as charismatic as Skidmark, but smarter. Always thought she could do a better job than him. Hated his style. Hated his smell. Lots of resentment, little respect. Was closer to Mush, is in the first stage of loss. Not because of close bond, but because he was her only bond. She's ambitious, wants to take Merchants to higher level.

'Well', Scribe thought as if his power could speak back to him. 'Can't have that now can we?'

"It is like I said," Scribe explained again. "Right now The Empire and ABB are fighting each other, if we attempt to expand it only gives them an enemy to unite against. We should instead use the chaos to place more dealers deeper in their territory."

"What about The Doctor territory then?" Whirlygig snarled. "Those fuckers attacked us, are we supposed to take that lying down?"

"Need I remind you that The Doctors didn't come to take our territory or steal or drug supplies, they were targeting our capes. Trying to fight them is the reason Mush has died." Whirlygig winced and gripped the edges of Skidmark's old desk with her hands until her knuckles turned white.

"And who the hell are you to tell me what I can and can't do?" She hissed. Scribe shrugged, this wasn't an uncommon reaction towards him. He got it with Skidmark, and he got it with the man before him, and he'll get from whoever comes after Whirlygig.

"As I said," Scribe answered, "I am an accountant of sorts, I do the management around here. And I also council the leader of The Merchants, something Skidmark did not make good use of and ended up dead. I trust you can be smarter than him?"

"I don't need your fucking advice! I'm the one that is in charge shitstain, you fucking listen to me!"

"Whirlygig," Scribe said firmly, crossing his arms. "I'm about to say something and I suggest you listen because it is the most important lesson I can give you about running The Merchants.

"In our peak season, we can have upwards of five hundred dealers on the streets in every corner of the city. Given that, exactly how many of these drug dealers do you trust to give you your fair share based on honour?"

"Fuck all," Whirlygig said with a frown.

"Precisely," Scribe said with a nod. "That's where I come in. You see, I keep track of all our dealers and make sure they give their share, I keep track of our suppliers and make sure the right paycheck ends up in the right pocket, I keep track of the inventory to make sure no one is stealing product, I make sure no other drug rings crop up in our city, and most important of all, I advise our leader on how best to maintain the gang."

"If you're so buttfucking important how come I ain't never seen you?" She asked accusingly. Scribe nodded understandingly.

"Because if people knew I signed the paychecks, so to speak, whose authority does it undermine?"

"Under mine?"

"You look like less of a leader if people realize I'm the one keeping the books." Scribe corrected without even thinking about it. "You don't want them coming to me when they have an issue, do you?"

"No."

"Good, now as I was saying. Skidmark never liked listening to me-"

'Then again, I make sure no Merchant likes listening to me.'

"- but the thing he had the most trouble grasping was that we want to be small. We want to be insignificant enough to be ignored most of the time. Because if we are perceived as a threat, we will be treated as a threat."

'Which is exactly why we were a threat.' He would have added that last part, if he thought her addled mind could have handled the concept. Instead, he let her work it out on her own. She frowned and thought about it for a moment.

"That sounds fucking stupid." She concluded. "I want to give those brotherfuckers a bloody fuckin' nose. We're going to take some of The Doctor's territory."

Scribe sighed and conceded to her. "If that is what you want, I'll pull some people together for you. Meet them downstairs in say, two hours?"

"Yeah, whatever." She said with a wave.

"One more thing," Scribe said, he pulled out a half sheet of paper from his pocket and slid it across the desk to her. "A speech," he said. "Feel free to… colour it with words of your choosing, but it should do the trick in making the others feel better about your leadership."

WIth that, Scribe turned on his heels and walked out of the 'office' Skidmark had made for himself. Whirlygig wasn't a great fit, but neither was Skidmark. That can be remedied, Scribe decided.

He pulled out a cell phone and dialed it as he worked his way towards a secluded portion of the building so he could remove his costume. After dialing the number, he got an answer on the second ring.

"Yeah, boss?" Jacobson said on the other end of the line.

"Get a team together," Scribe said. "Whirlygig wants to make a strike into Doctor territory. Make sure things fall apart."

"Just like with Skidmark? Isn't it a little soon, boss?"

"It's better that she learns this lesson sooner rather than later, see to it. You have less than two hours to get prepared."

"Understood boss." Scribe flicked the phone shut and double checked to make sure he was alone before removing the mask that covered the lower half of his face, took off the black haired wig to release his curly red hair, and exchanged his wire frame glasses for pair with thicker rims.

Tom Monta exited the old factory warehouse and proceeded to walk two blocks to his car. None of the roaming Merchants bothered him.

Climbing into his car he found a stainless steel suitcase sitting in the passenger seat. Tom had a guess as to what it was, which was confirmed when he read the note sitting on top of it.

Payment has gone through. Six vials, as requested. -C

"Good, good," Tom muttered to himself before starting his car.

Tom had always considered that among The Merchants, he had the greatest superpower of all. He didn't do drugs. It kept his mind sharp among a sea of violent, unstable, addicted, dirty, savage, morons. It also allowed him to make sure money was always flowing directly to him.

What most people didn't realize was that as gangs age they begin to operate more and more like a business. A brand new gang might be able to get away with some disorganization, but it never lasts. Eventually, someone needs to start keeping the books. In his research, Tom found that the all human gang in Chicago had actual books, stacks of composition journals where they recorded every single transaction as a long mind numbing string of numbers. Tom was a little more proficient than that.

The Merchants, in particular, had posed an interesting dynamic to him when he first found them. Drug dealers working together? Not unheard of, but it never lasts. When nearly everyone included in the gang is on mind altering substances the level of in fighting and sheer amount of insubordination would tear apart a gang like that before it even got thirty members strong.

But put in someone with large amounts of charisma, maintain control of the drug supply, and make sure they were always coming back to you for their fix, and then a person could build a proper gang. Or as proper as The Merchants got.

Arriving at his home, a large two-story house that was far too much for a single man, Tom pulled the car to a stop and sat there silently for a moment as he considered things. Pulling the case into his lap, he opened it up and peered inside.

Six vials, three green, three red. He considered them for a time, thinking of the candidates he had previously selected for them. He used his power on them each day, only one showed any sign of significant change that might be harmful to him. The others though, they were ready.

'But will they just be another Skidmark and Mush when these Doctors come knocking again?'

The Doctors were not like the other villains in the city. They didn't care that they were a non-threat. They didn't even care about the drugs. All they cared about was killing their capes. For what purpose, Tom didn't know. And he hated not knowing.

Pulling out a cellphone, he redialed a number that had called him once before. It took four rings before it was picked up.

"Hello Coil," Scribe began, "I would like to discuss that offer you gave me the other day…"

***

Sophia flopped on the bed she was provided in her cell. She was allowed a cell phone now, benefits of being a Ward. Or at least, on her way to being one. She didn't really understand what exactly had happened. There was no interrogation, no courts, no one pressing charges, she didn't even spend that long in handcuffs. One minute she is sitting silently in an interrogation, thinking what she could say to soften the blow against her when Director Piggot came in and placed a packet of papers in front of her.

'I don't like you,' Piggot had said. 'And I know a lot of other people don't like you. And legally, we could bury you. But someone doesn't want that, so here is the deal.' At that point, Piggot had thrown a pen on top of the papers. 'You sign everything in there, you make our rules your bible, you attend counseling twice a week, you don't leave this building for at least a year, you get excellent grades in our provided schooling, and you don't so much as leave a dot out of any paperwork you file for the rest of your career and your crimes will disappear and against my wishes you become a Ward. Do not say anything, don't even move your head. Either grab the pen and start signing to show you understand and accept or don't. Your head.' And that had been it. She signed each paper, barely glancing at most of them until she realized she was in no uncertain terms signing some of her human rights away. Even then, it had been too late. She was already halfway to hell.

She shook her head and turned her mind back to Emma, the phone call being one of the few things she was allowed. And even then it was heavily monitored and listened to.

"... and then she fucking punched me!" Emma said.

"Huh," Sophia said out of genuine curiosity. "Hebert finally fought back. Good."

"Good?!"

"Yes," Sophia said simply. "That was what we were doing it for, wasn't it? She would either learn her lesson like you did and fight back and become a predator. Or she was always going to let herself get pushed around and walked over, staying prey. We've made her better."

She knew she was pushing it, dancing on the edge of what would have been an acceptable conversation. But without blatantly stating what they had done on top of the guarantee that her crimes were gone she was fairly sure this would pass so long as Emma kept her head on.

"So… What are we going to do?"

"Lay off," Sophia said simply. "See if she'll stay that way, or if she'll go back to being prey again."

"I don't- Shit, my dad is calling me. I got to go."

"Bye," Sophia said with a bored tone before hanging up. She held the phone in front of her blankly, idly playing with it.

"Hebert, huh?" She said to herself. She had been forced to lay off when that blonde girl, Lisa, not-so-subtly blackmailed her. Suddenly Sophia frowned. Lisa had known things, things she shouldn't have been able to know about everyone. Just like that blonde girl with Nova had known her chosen cape name. They even sounded similar.

But if they were the same person then…

Sophia smirked.

"Well, it looks like my kindness was the best thing for you, Taylor."

***

"Coil," a woman's voice stated. Upon hearing the familiar and daunting voice on the other end of the line, Coil leaned back in his office chair and suppressed a sigh.

"What can I do for you?" He asked.

"We require your pet team of teenagers are allowed to become heroes."

"And how do you propose that I do that?" Coil asked, a little annoyance creeping into his voice. He would have asked why, but the question has never got him anywhere before. Even still, perhaps he should have made a timeline for it just to check.

"Simply allow them to be arrested, we'll handle the rest."

"Surely I can be allowed to keep Ergo and his-"

"No, you can get Thinkers elsewhere. Ergo must go too." The was a click on the other end, signaling the end of the conversation. Coil let out a frustrated sigh and pulled up to his computer before opening an email.

Ergo, Coil wrote, forgot your search for Miss Lindt, I have a new assignment for you. Tell Regent and Biohazard you're coming back and meeting a new team member I have been grooming, a cape by the name of Grue. -C

Coil leaned back in his chair and considered things for a long time. When a message was sent back, Coil split the world in two and typed two different replies.

***

A/N: Supesu is a case 53 with the ability to charge inorganic objects by sticking them in his mouth. While in his mouth, Supesu decides what rule the 'space' will have. There are two limitations. 1) The event horizons of these spaces must be traversable by anything more complex than a bug and 2) While the rules he is able to set are very flexible, space will fail to deploy if the rule causes the immediate death of people and animals inside of it. For instance, the fire Space you saw him make would fail if he deployed it on a human because it was his rule that summoned the fire. But if he were to simply make a space where oxygen can neither leave nor enter, people inside would suffocate. The longer Supesu spends charging something the larger space will get, giving him the potential to be an S class threat and hit an entire city with one space. But his broken mind would never do it, which is why he is why Cauldron allowed him to be free. So far he has caused three people to trigger, only killing one person as there is nothing less funny than a corpse.

Scribe has two powers. His first gives him an accurate measure of a person's personality, goals, and general level of intelligence. His second make him able to handle numbers and micro manage incredibly well. As he is neither charismatic, willing to do drugs, and looks very nerdy in appearance, he puts others in charge of The Merchants and manipulates them accordingly. Because of his appearance and mannerisms, he receives no respect from The Merchants. He is fine with this as it makes them feel superior and lets him manipulate them better. As drugs are a very lucrative business, Scribe makes a lot of money while keeping the rest of The Merchants reasonably poor. Knowing that their drug addled minds will neither look nor comprehend the books, he can get away with a lot.

Ergo is a Thinker meant to replace Lisa in Coil's plan. He understands how things work, intuitively. Including a limited view into basic Tinker tech principles. He often tricks people into thinking he is a Tinker by combining all the Tinker 0-1 principles he's learned into one suit to make him seem closer to a Tinker 3 or 4.

Biohazard is a bio tinker limited to self-enhancement. Her body augments do not work with other people.

"Are you sure you don't want to head back home for a bit?" I asked Panacea. She fiddled with the edges of her robes nervously. Cheshire was still getting ready and my Dad was at work so it was just the two of us waiting in our living room.

"I would rather not head back just yet," she said nervously. I tucked my forelegs under me so I could kneel down and talk to her eye to eye. I wasn't that much taller than her, but kneeling would make it easier for her to climb onto my back when it's time to leave.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked.

"Not… really."

"Come on," I nudged her with my muzzle, an attack I found rather odd but fitting. "I won't say anything, just listen. I promise, it'll make you feel better."

Panacea hung her head and fell silent for a moment before speaking.

"I… I don't know who my real father is, but I know it isn't good. He was a criminal of some sort, the kind Carol wouldn't ever talk about. And she thinks I'm going to be like him, I know she does. I fear I might be like him, whatever he was like. So I worked at the hospital. I thought that I could balance it by spending my life healing people. But then you came, told me I was destroying myself and made me stop. Now things have gotten better for me, but when I came home late last night Carol demanded to know where I was. And then she didn't believe what I had told her, followed by her scolding me for improving Cheshire like I did because of the implications. And I just… I couldn't. I couldn't stand her looking at me like I was just a step away from killing someone."

I could tell a knot was forming in her throat as she spoke. Her voice had begun to waver as she tried to force out what had happened. I knew the feeling, that if she stopped talking the knot in her throat would feel like it was blocking her air way.

"I'm sorry," I said, leaning my head against her. She hesitated a moment before wrapping her arms around my neck. She hugged me for a minute before Cheshire came back into the room with a grin on her face. She announced her presence with a clap and said,

"Alright, who's ready to hunt down some terrorists?"

***

There were still lots of gang fighting, but it was cooling down. The Empire took back most of its territory, the ABB was fighting them tooth and nail for it, The Four was busy defending the little bit they took for themselves while The Workers fought Coil's mercenaries back and forth over the same area of land. But even with all that going on, most of the fighting had taken a significant dip since yesterday. The PRT statement has caused a lot of wary eyes to turn towards The Four. Specifically, The Workers and Doctors. There hasn't been a cape battle since Hookwolf, but it was only a matter of time.

More disturbingly, Lung was silent. Oni Lee had appeared on the scene once or twice but quickly disappeared without Lung to back him up. On his own, Oni Lee could do little to stop the Empire which is what he had been focusing on. But the only reason why Lung wouldn't have shown up, and the conclusion Cheshire came to, would be that he wasn't in town. We didn't know what that meant, but it couldn't be good.

But while Lung was disturbing, the return of The Merchants was worrying. Everyone assumed with most of their capes wiped out they would disappear, but they did nothing of the sort. Instead, they doubled down in their territory and were holding out fairly well. It was a level of intelligence the city hasn't seen from The Merchants. Very, very, worrying.

"Over there," Cheshire said in my ear, reaching forward to point at a warehouse down below us. With a nodded I tucked my wings together and went into a shallow dive, causing Panacea to yelp and lean forward on my back. Probably to get a better grip on Cheshire. The shifting weight threw me off a bit, but I managed to correct for it before anything drastic happened.

"Land on the building over there," Chesire said, pointing across the street from the warehouse. Obeying her instructions, I banked to the right and slowly came to a stop. The building was a single story taller than the warehouse she had pointed out, allowing me to look over the edge at it.

The warehouse didn't have a single person going in or out, in fact, the whole area was dead in terms of foot traffic. Which was odd as even the most out of the way and decrepit places at least had a few people using the buildings for shelter.

"Are you sure this is the place?" I asked as she and Panacea climbed off me.

"Yes," Cheshire said. "They dug tunnels from one basement to another between these buildings. They enter somewhere around here and head to the warehouse. Would normally keep people from telling where they are headed and where they're base normally is. But Shadow Stalker, well, stalked them with her power."

"So how are we going to do this?" Panacea asked. I nodded in agreement and looked at Cheshire.

"Well…" She said, faking a nervous tone. "I'll tell you, but you're not going to like it."

***

"Simple," Lisa had said, "If the members only know who is directly in charge of them, who's to say I'm not supposed to be there?"

Lisa, of course, knew the answer was whoever was in charge of the place, but she was certain she could avoid them. So, after changing into civilian gear and Nova liberating some gang colours from a nearby ganger, Lisa found herself crawling through the tunnels right into The Worker's base of operations.

'It's fine,' Lisa told herself despite the flutter in her chest. 'I have low-level Brute powers, I just have to hold on until Nova can come crashing through the roof.'

She emerged out of the tunnel to find herself in a small room, barely large enough to be a prison cell. Directly across from her was a gated metal fence with no lock on it covering the entrance to a single ladder leading up into the warehouse. Two guards were standing on either side of it with assault rifles in hand.

Watching for Master protocol message. Lisa's power spoke. Three steps forward, reach down and pull up sock, then nod to Worker on left. Fence is electrically charged and will only shut off when hidden button behind the right Worker's foot.

Lisa followed the instructions to the letter and as expected, the metal cage didn't shock her when she opened it. She continued on through and climb up the ladder hastily.

Coming out into the open area she found herself in a sea of bustling Workers. In the far corner, there were rows of bunk beds suggesting that some of them lived here. While the corner directly opposite had tables set up where Workers were eating and conversing.

Turning slowly to observe the warehouse in a close attention to detail as she could while moving her gaze from one end to the other. The walls were lined with lockers, a few left open to reveal identical sets of gear. Gas, handguns, grenades, various other things.

On the other end of the room, Lisa could see a metal staircase leading up to what might have once been a foreman's office. It had large bay windows letting the person inside view the entire warehouse floor.

More lockers at the top of the stairs. Planned for Thinkers with the limitations of Think Tank. Most will assume there is a good reason they are unaware of if I climb the steps.

Well, she wasn't going to learn anything down here. She swallowed and started forward, her eyes darting back and forth to watch for any sign of any more Master/ Stranger protocols. While there wasn't any of that, lots of curious eyes were turned towards her.

Tightly knit community. Most everyone knows everyone else. All from the same city. Boston. Trained together.

Lisa resisted the urge to swear under her breath and hurried to the stairs. As soon as she put a hand on the railing her power fed her a bit of information that caused her to go into a slight panic.

Alarm. Scheduled time for entering and leaving office by anyone. Waiting for emergency contact signal.

Lisa hurried her pace up the steps, rounding the one corner in their structure before they turned toward the office space. When she reached the top she spun around and gave the signal as her power instructed. She clapped her hands twice and brushed imaginary hair away from her face.

"These guys really like unspoken means of communication," Lisa muttered to herself. The effect of her giving the signal was instant, people began springing into motion. Grabbing their gear and anything they were assigned to handle. Apparently, she gave a really specific signal because they all headed for the ladder and began descending down it one by one with military efficiency.

A little calmer now that almost all of her spectators were gone, Lisa darted for the office. Just outside of it to the right of the doorway into it were three lockers.

Guards on the inside, walls are thin enough to hear through. Lockers have false backs as a secondary escape route if front door is blocked.

Without wasting a second, Lisa wrenched open one of the locker doors and climbed inside. After checking to make sure she wasn't going to push the false back out, Lisa pressed her ear to it to listen inside.

"-is pushing for an alliance between all four of us new gangs." One man said.

"A bond between the four of us would be nice." A women answered him. "And haven't you noticed they operate sort of similar to us? If we got Industry's Brute nets and we gave them our Kinder gas we would work so much more efficiently."

"But," the man countered her. "They likely have capes."

They don't know they all work for the same group or person. Woman suspects, but is unwilling to say. Is dropping hits at man, who's in charge, to attempt to get information out of him on subject.

"We can take them out once we're done, so long as it furthers our cause we can compromise on our values a bit."

"Eh, maybe. But I still don't see what Max is looking for us to get out of this alliance. Haven't we proven we can take care of these villains on our own? We got Hookwolf didn't we?"

"And the Doctors got Krieg and Skidmark. Mush was more of a joined effort. And Clay isn't an idiot, he knows the more people the better. Small groups like us don't- Hey! What the hell is going on down there?"

Rushing to the window, almost everyone is gone now. Working out possible solutions.

"We've got an infiltrator." The man said seriously.

Striding for the doorway.

The man and woman threw the door open and walked out on the metal steps, feet clanking against it heavily. Several more footsteps followed behind them, body guards.

"Hello?" The man shouted out. "I would just like to say:

A̸̹̮̗̬͎̲̩̪̫̥̝͑̈́̓̀̀̈́̃̓̑̄͝ͅd̵̖͔̹́͑͒͘k̵̢̨͔̻̜̪̻̲͔̻͚̹̂̐̑̐͘ͅͅį̶̨̮̹̖̫̠͚͙́͆̎͂̏̐ͅn̷̘̼͉͍̗͈̩̼͎̭̻͓̭͎͔̋̑̊̆s̸̛̜͇̽ͅ ̵̹̄͌͋͊͌̈́̆̾̈́́͑̋̑̎S̸͓͋͜.̴̹͚͕̩̯̟͖̓̓̃̀̃̑̕ ̸̧̖̺̲͋̿̈́̐̒̐̾̿̊̿̇͠͝͠M̷̢̢̢̛̳̩̙͔̪̙̻͆͐̔͗͆̈́õ̴̧̯̞͍̞̺̲̖̗̳̲̘̾̍̈́͐̉͝ń̷̡̮͓̑ţ̷̳̱͎̤̮̖̜̖͙̣͇͓͋͋̈̒͐͛̏̚ģ̶̛̼͕͕̹͎̇̂̎̽̈́͆́̔̅̄͘õ̷͖͕͖̖͍̺̙̮̺̩͋̂̐̑̃̈́̇̚̚͠͝ͅm̸̩̙͊̐̐̓̓̽̓͝͝ĕ̸͉̘͚̳͕ŗ̷̡͇̪̦͎͕̪̝͔̻͠y̵͙̲̘̘̮͈̲̰̫͍̪̩̼͈̾̈̇̽̒́ͅ ̶̡̛̩̗̯͗͒̄͋̇̂͐̉̉́̀͋̚i̸͖̻̪̩͕̞̠̜͕͗̋̈́̚ͅs̶̡̨͇̦͓͙̜͕̥͋̾̔͂̓͜͜ ̴͓͚̥̪͕̯̫͔̲̫̞̈́̇̽̈͗́̾̑̈́̈́̓̓!̸̧̛̛̹̤͉̱̩̲̏̀́̉̋̈̈̔̀̐^̷̨̡̧̛̦͈̣̱̞̯̹͉̲̼̈́̃̃̅̏́̅͜͠#̸̦͈̼͚̳̥͆͗̊̕͝&̴̧̳͇̤̟̘͂͂͛̕͜͝$̵̢͍̩̗̯͔͔̓͗͝@̶̪̼̄̑́̓̄̀̀̇^̴̨͉̯̤͍̲̤̭͔͓̰͉̱̞̩̍̐͒̅̂̇͒̈́͆̚͝͠*̷̧̡̻͈̥͎͎͉̘͔͓͚̈͘͜͜ͅ%̸̡̗̤͖̏̒̐̐̐͑̌̇̒͘͝!"

Lisa gasped as a headache suddenly stuck her and for the first time in years, her power didn't tell her anything.

"Hey!" The woman called out. "There's someone in the locker!" Lisa didn't have any time to react as her headache began to fade as quickly as it had come. The door was thrown open and she was dragged out by her wrist.

"Who are you," The man demanded. He was tall and lean, broad-shouldered but not quite barrel-chested. The woman was of similar build, but with red hair compared to his brown and ample cleavage.

"I'm a Worker," Lisa said as her power began to kick back in. "I saw the Master come in," she lied. "I ran up the stairs and hid in the locker so he wouldn't find me."

The man opened his mouth to ask something, but the woman hushed him with a hand and narrowed her eyes at Lisa.

"What's the passphrase?" Lisa swallowed and dropped the walls on her power.

The phrase is A̸̹̮̗̬͎̲̩̪̫̥̝͑̈́̓̀̀̈́̃̓̑̄͝ͅd̵̖͔̹́͑͒͘k̵̢͔̻̂̐̑̐͘-

Lisa groaned and clutched her head as another headache ensued. The pair took a step back.

"She's a cape, shoot her!" The guy demanded. Lisa jumped to her feet and darted forward, her adrenalin kicking in the second she was in motion. Her power came back a moment later and she twirled around the gunfire of a nearby bodyguard.

She stepped on his foot and grabbed his arm with both hands, doing a quick dislocation of it before snatching his gun.

She felt something inside of her twitch, like some ethereal connection had just sent some data. She could reflect on that later, she had to find a way to signal Nova and not die right now.

Across the street, a particular pony lifted her head as she sensed her friend was in trouble.

As soon as I sensed Lisa was in trouble I spread my wings and jumped off the roof I was on, Panacea yelping in surprise as I did so. I flew towards the building and attempted to grab the entire roof with my magic. I pulled on it as hard as I could, my horn taking a bright over glow.

For a moment nothing happened. Then I heard the entire structure give a massive groan and I redoubled my efforts. A second glow enveloped the first, followed by a third glow as I continued to pull.

The ceiling came off with a massive screeching sound as I bent the metal and curled it up into a ball. I saw Lisa darting between some Workers, knocking them down as they looked up in awe at me as I flew towards them. I reached out with my magic and grabbed all of them that were stuck in the room before crushing their guns and pulling them into the air. They swallowed nervously as I held them several dozen feet above the ground.

"Tell me," I said as soon as they were as high in the air as me. "What do you know about Rune?"

***

Was it sad the news vans were here before the police? Since they weren't capes and I really didn't like the PRT right now, Cheshire called the normal human police to take care of them. She waited until the Workers were arrested and gone before revealing herself, just to make sure he identity didn't get spoiled by them.

I flew several feet above them with Panacea after the two of us agreed that we didn't want to answer questions without Cheshire there. Or at all for that matter, but I could see why we would want to.

When Cheshire did come out I flew down to meet her, landing by her side and following her as she strode towards the news crews. Panacea slid off my back and walked alongside us. The questions started flooding us before we even stopped moving.

"Nova, what exactly happened here?"

"Who is this other cape?"

"Why is Panacea here with you?"

"Is this an official partnership with New Wave?"

"What were The Worker's up to?"

Cheshire held up a hand to silence them. Once they had quieted down she offered them a smile.

"My name is Cheshire, and today we got confessions out of some The Worker's higher-ups," Cheshire said, beaming at the crowd. "We had someone sneak into their base and start gathering information. This will get confirmed by the police later, but The Worker's admitted to being involved in the deaths of Hookwolf, Krieg, and Rune. The last one occurring while Rune was in PRT custody. They also admit that The Workers are allied with The Doctors and were working on getting allied with the other two recent gangs."

"Is this the end of The Workers?" One female reporter asked.

"Doubtful," Cheshire said. "This was just one of their bases, probably one of their biggest. There is still a lot of work to do if we're going to clean this gang out."

"Do you honestly think you can end the gang when others have been unable to end the gang presence in this city?"

"Yes," Cheshire answered without hesitation. "Because these gangs made a mistake and now everyone is against them. There was some doubt before, but now we know that these people are responsible for recent events. Now they are going to facing pressure from both The Empire and the ABB and the PRT."

"Are they really that much of a threat that the other gangs might single them out?"

"Absolutely," Cheshire said with a nod. "Considering they are all part of a massive conspiracy."

The effect of that caused an instant wave of questions from the reporters. Cheshire waited for them to settle down enough for her to speak and be heard.

"These gangs," Cheshire announced. "Act like they are four separate gangs that happen to be working together, and in fact, most of their members think they are four different gangs. But they are being manipulated by one person. Someone who I believe is trying to execute all the villains in the city to get complete control. And I learned for a fact that these Workers are taking orders from a man named Max Clay. I if were to hazard to guess, I would be willing to say the other gangs probably know that name too."

"Are you saying that the four newest gangs in the city are part of one large conspiracy group with the intention of taking over the city?" One of the reporters asked.

"Yes," Cheshire said. "And Nova and I are going to take them apart just like we did today."

"I've got a question for Nova," one reporter said, turning the microphone to me. "Why have you been able to hit these gangs as hard as you have and what are you going to do if they bring in capes to fight you?"

I swallowed a little as I felt my throat go dry and my heartbeat began to pick up. I was on television, for the rest of the city to see. I didn't plan ahead for this, I thought Cheshire would handle it all. In retrospect, I should have expected this given how I was a larger symbol than her. I took a breath and a step forward, using the movement to open my wings a little more. I was silently glad my hair almost always perfect.

"I've been able to hit them hard like this for one simple reason," I stated. "I'm more motivated than the PRT, I'm less restricted than the PRT, and I recognize that these conspirators are far more dangerous than they have been making themselves out to be."

"Nova," someone called out, "Are you claiming that the PRT is poorly equipped to take down this kind of threat."

"No," I stated. I felt a spike of anger rise inside of me. At first, I only wanted to make a point that if we had been part of the PRT and Protectorate we would have never been able to do what we did, that only the fact that we were independent allowed us to. But I was suddenly reminded that those were the same people that were at least partially responsible for Rune and turned murders into heroes.

"I am stating as fact that the PRT is incompetent. They write their own press releases and actively have tried to make these people seem less of a threat than they were. These Workers, these conspirators, killed dozens of Merchants and melt Hookwolf's body around himself. But try to find where they said that in their press release because they never did." I probably should have stopped there, but the more I spoke the angrier I got. I should have stopped myself before I said something I regretted, but I couldn't. "Because the PRT's business isn't about making you safe from threats, not even large ones like this. It is about making people feel safe. But feelings don't change facts."

The excitement of the reporters skyrocketed as soon as I finished speaking. Every single person was practically shouting questions and showed no signs of stopping. I frowned and shook my head, shooting a glance at Panacea and then Cheshire. Cheshire had an unreadable expression as she pointed upward. Looking in the direction she was pointing at, I saw Glory Girl hovering above us. Her arms were crossed and she didn't look that happy.

Cheshire reached over and grabbed onto my saddlebags. I gave Panacea a nudge and she did the same. I closed my eyes and teleported up to her. This was bound to happen eventually.

***

Director Piggot stood on the other side of the glass, watching Armsmaster interrogate The Worker as she tried to forget the PR problem waiting for her back in her office. It had taken some time to pull him away from the Brockton Bay Police Department, but the massive PR issue Nova had caused them help legitimize the claim that they were in fact cape related.

"Let's start from your discovery of the Thinker that infiltrated you," Armsmaster said. "You said she was hiding in a locker. How did you discover her?"

"She gasped," he grumbled with a scowl.

"I find that unlikely," Armsmaster replied. The Worker shrugged.

"What can I say? She made a mistake."

"You're lying," Armsmaster stated. The Worker paused a moment then rolled his eyes.

"Right, Tinkers."

"Do the Worker's have a way to detect Thinkers?" Armsmaster asked. A smug smirk appeared on the Worker's face.

"You can say that."

"How," Armsmaster asked. There was no inflection in his voice, not a hint of emotion. Just a simple question and answer set up. The Worker leaned back in his seat with a smug grin and said,

"Adkins S Montgomery is Ragnarok."

Piggot's eyes narrowed as Armsmaster froze for a brief moment. Suddenly he rose out of his chair and his hand shot up to his helmet to press a button.

"Implement Master/Stranger protocols immediately." Armsmaster turned on his heel and walked out of the room, locking the door behind him. What should have been a short five seconds from the interrogation room to the observation room took almost a full minute as Armsmaster went under screening. She started tapping her foot impatiently as Armsmaster finally entered the room.

"What happened in there," Piggot demanded.

"Did you not hear him say… that?" Armsmaster asked, his voice slightly hitched. It threw Piggot off as he rarely ever let emotion into his voice like that.

"Are you referring to when he said 'Adkins S Montgomery is Ragnarok'?"

Armsmaster drew a breath and took a step back.

"Director," he said slowly. "Can you understand that?"

"What's wrong with it?" Piggot asked. Armsmaster shook his head and frowned deeply.

"I can't understand the phrase. When you say it I… I forget how my technology works for a few seconds."

Piggot's jaw clenched and she pulled out her phone and quickly typed in the phrase before turning the screen back towards him. Armsmaster stared at for a second before forcibly turning his gaze away from it. Her now heart thundering in her chest, Piggot dialed Miss Militia.

"Hello Director?" She answered.

"Adkins S Montgomery is Ragnarok." Piggot stated.

"I… Sorry? What was that?" Angrily, Piggot hung up the phone and called Battery.

"Adkins S Montgomery is Ragnarok."

"Is there something wrong with your phone, Director?"

She hung up and called Assault.

"Uh, what?" He asked in response. She hung up and tried Dauntless.

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

Triumph.

"I can't hear you, Director."

Clockblocker.

"Is this a prank call? I know it's not like you but…"

Aegis.

"I think I've got bad reception, I'll just come to your office."

Piggot hung up and slipped the phone into her pocket and stomped out the door of the room. She looked at the two PRT officers standing guard outside and told them the same phrase.

"Who is Adkins Montgomery ma'am?" The first asked.

"And what does it mean?" The other asked.

Piggot grimaced and struggled to not crush her phone in her grip.

"It means we have a massive problem."