AN: I split this from the last chapter thinking it would go neatly into two halves. Guess I misjudged things, would have been better going into thirds - but here's the whole thing. Monster of a chapter, 41K words.
I've been pretty pleased overall with how this fic has come along over the last year - particularly after I barely updated it for that big stretch in 2023. I think just the general existence of the Patreon lights a fire under my ass to keep me moving, and I don't mind that as much as I thought I would. My new years resolution? Keep trucking with this fic, and get some of my other fics back on track as well. I've been lazy with them. Still, this fic is my favourite of them all so it will stay as my priority - just don't be too shocked if I sprinkle some other updates in here and there.
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Everyone on PHO loved to talk about how fights were chaotic and unpredictable. And it was true - how many fights had I lost to trickery, or weapons and new aspects of powers being revealed for the first time? Unexpected obstacles interfering with my best laid plans, crossfire from a different fight - there were plenty of ways to lose that were no fault of any particular lack of preparation or skill.
But on a smaller scale, when all of the cards were down? Fights tended to be simple. Each side only had a few paths to victory. There was a reason I don't lose against normal people anymore - I was immune to grapples and headlocks of all descriptions ever since I first defeated Sophia, so the only way for a regular guy to beat me was with a lethal weapon, or one singular blow that I wasn't ready for. And these days? I just didn't leave the same openings for one lucky punch or elbow to knock me out. Those openings had been beaten out of me, quite literally. And that was before all of my subtle and not-so-subtle powers gave me a way to cheat. There was a good reason I liked keeping powers in reserve that would save me from surprise gunfire, because in challenges - that was the most likely way for me to lose.
My route to victory here was clear. Wipe out the remaining merchants on the ground, find a way to enter Squealer's vehicle without getting a nasty zap in my shadow state - and then meet the Tinker face to face. Considering all the factors putting me at an advantage against the beleaguered, unprepared Merchants - that shouldn't be too difficult to manage. At least, the first part. Getting inside Squealer's vehicle - not so easy. That thing was a tank by any stretch of the name, and the stray sparks and stray wiring trailing across it to each of the weapon platforms left me no illusions that a poorly-considered shadow state might be the end for me. I had options, of course - but I needed time to experiment with them. Time that was uninterrupted by either onlookers or the driver - so, really, the core of my first objective was just to reach the centre of the convoy, without Squealer noticing, and without it being extremely obvious to everyone else that I was targeting Squealer specifically. If she got a clue and just decided to drive off, my chance was probably just gone - especially if she made a beeline to rescue and evacuate Skidmark. Very plausible. Too plausible. Actually, more likely to happen than me simply losing this fight. Take that into consideration, Greg.
Fortunately, Taylor was doing a good job of selling the idea that Squealer was doing something valuable with every second she spent here - an impression I was keen to encourage. Presenting another 'Cape' for her to handle via my ash clone and the puppet only made more space in the battlefield for me to carve a path towards her through her blindspots. And then? Crack it open, enjoy the reward inside. A simple challenge and done. I don't expect her to pose much of a struggle on her own.
...but that kind of thinking had me losing challenges to Skidmark, of all people. For all that today had already been a great haul - it could have been better. Should have been better, maybe. Or, maybe not. Skidmark's current cooldown timer was maybe a bit too long for me to get in the repetitions I would need to overcome his preparation - even my moderate success at barging through the front door stripped away a few too many of the melee-focused powers that I needed to overcome his regular power and the backhand of death he had access to. It was hard to imagine that I would have had much more success with only another attempt or two.
But it would have felt better, at least. Getting in attempts against walls like Skidmark and Mush were worthwhile failures. It was the lazy, slow start - the failure to consider the worst possibility - that had earned me my first loss to Skidmark, and paused my efforts against Squealer's current challenge that I was absolutely sure that I could beat. It wasn't a lack of skill. Neither of those challenges were beyond my means. I didn't have a single reason not to immediately close the gap against Skidmark's first challenge - even if I thought he was a normie at the time, I didn't have any ranged attacks. Rushing in and overwhelming the target would always be the correct play. I hadn't respected the CONT modifier against Squealer, and what she might do after I had... not cheated, but perhaps, not joined her in a fair race.
I didn't have a redo in real life. No failure screen waiting for me here. I fuck up like that, I'll just die. And that had a way of sharpening the mind.
But, in the same way - this wasn't like the simulations. The world wasn't twisting itself to present an unfeasible challenge to me, presenting me with a unified, cool-headed and well-prepared enemy. Quite the opposite - this was weighted in my favour, because even if Taylor wasn't exactly looking - simply having her within range was a cheat code all on its own. Squealer's turrets and toys were distracted with repelling Taylor's swarm, the only effective repellent against a seemingly-endless wave of chittering, buzzing clones. The gun-wielding goons were more of a danger to each other than me with their weapons - for once - as useless in their hands as they usually would usually be in mine. The creeping darkness as bugs moved to cover every streetlight, headlight and hastily-pointed flashlight was an asset to me - concealing the dark colours of my ash clone in the shadows and enabling me to dash from one car to the next, bludgeoning the drivers and leaving before they even registered I was approaching.
I feel strong. Invincible. A heady feeling that I actively push down on, forcibly conjuring up memories of my more ignominious defeats - the sudden turns in fortune that a hidden weapon or surprise attack could invite - but this feeling of dancing through shadows around a confused and disoriented enemy... I feel like I understand Sophia a little better, like this.
Maybe that sounds like something I should be experiencing with her power constantly - but, no. Not only did I have a distraction and a serious threat in the ever-present swarms swelling up into humanoid figures in the street - but it was also dark. And for all that my challenges and patrols took place in a variety of environments and times, visibility was rarely bad. Whether it was indoors, or the sun had yet to fully set, or my foes and targets gathered themselves under some streetlight or glowing sign - I rarely had an opportunity like this, where a few quick sidesteps out of the headlights of the trucks would make me as invisible as any power until I entered the cone of the handheld flashlights or one of the trucks spun back around to face me to try and hit me again - or at least to try and direct gunfire my way.
But none of the drivers seemed that motivated anymore. Perhaps because now that I had already closed the distance there was no longer a reason for Taylor to favour distraction over takedowns - the humanoid swarms start to collapse in on themselves and simply surge forward as a chittering tide - but even that is still theatre, because she had insects in position around their feet before the first shot had even been fired. Two, three, four Merchants break ranks and split off from the convoy. A pair of trucks split away from Squealer's formation along with them, one veering off the road and slamming into a wall as the panicked drivers discover that their vehicles aren't anywhere near as airtight as Squealer's.
The next truck I phase into has a driver that almost looks grateful to be bludgeoned into unconsciousness rather than dealing with the mass of chitin creeping across his face and crawling underneath his collar. The second truck in line seems to have benefitted from having their windows shut, but a quick punch to shatter the window on the way past is enough to let the swarm in - just because I didn't want to use a shadow state charge until the next one came back up. I slip into the shadows again as the headlights wink out, considering the 'fight' as it continues. There's still a certain jankiness to the movements of the swarm. Not quite as coldly practiced as I'd faced in my challenges. One Merchant seems practically paralysed with fear in the passenger seat as his driver gets overran, with him being entirely untouched until an errant flier bumps into him - then the swarm promptly splits in two and jumps on him as well. An imperfect search pattern, imperfect area awareness - proving that it was still possible to avoid her if you had the fortune to simply not have any bugs on you.
Not that such a thing was easy, when a massive swarm was surging through the air like this.
But it was an indication that she couldn't see through her bugs yet. Yet. I knew it was possible - and that would eventually cause problems for my secret-keeping tendencies... but not today. I was still happy to see how adeptly she'd taken my 'ideas' and incorporated them so extensively into her fighting style - happy for all kinds of reasons. Happy that one of my 'team' was finding such success, which boosted my own threat and reputation. Happy for Taylor personally, with all of her confidence issues a showing like this was bound to help out. Happy for my own ego, knowing that Taylor would forevermore need to attribute her boost in Master rating - and her ability to be more than a flood of pesky bugs - to me and my influence. Happy that, when all was said and done, perhaps the strongest Master in the Bay was already mine - a key marker of progress in my quest to seize the reins of power in the Bay.
The only thing to be unhappy about was that I hadn't been able to steal anywhere near the level of that power that I would expect from the challenges I had cleared. Sure, most powers had restrictions - but I couldn't even send a small swarm at someone, let alone use anything like she did. Yes, the Administrator power was probably still more of a net benefit than simply widening the reach of the original, pathetic, bug control power - but I couldn't pretend that I wasn't a little bit irate at the difficulties I was having claiming the rest of Taylor's power for my own. I usually didn't think about it much, but maybe recent losses were making it sting a bit more. Maybe my ego just found it easier to appreciate other people having good powers when I could confidently say that I could replicate sixty-percent of what they could do already. Shadow Stalker, for example. Taylor? Not even close.
I half-trip over a fallen Merchant, his unconscious body practically hidden in the shadows I was hiding in - I send a mean-spirited kick to his face, just for good measure. Wasn't like I could make them any uglier, and I didn't really want to waste my attention on the small fry anymore. For me, it was always about moving through the edge of the convoy and getting closer to its beating heart. Let the bugs, my ash clone and the formidable knight of twisted metal it was controlling draw any remaining eyes - I just needed to be close enough to Squealer before she decided to cut her losses and run.
Most likely, that would be soon. Now that Taylor had stopped sandbagging, the impact of the Tinkertech weaponry was no longer as notable. The harder-hitting cannon wasn't doing much to the knight either - save for the fact that materiel was being blasted entirely clear of its grasp, forcing it into a continuous cycle of tearing up new armour from disabled trucks while bullets and more cannonfire ineffectually attempts to disable it fully. My ash clone itself had taken the executive decision to cower under a car to save itself from being dispersed by accidental crossfire - and the tendril of power linking the latter to the 'feet' of the former had gone unnoticed so far in the poor vision and chaos of the battlefield.
...there is an argument that I should show restraint with that 'trick'. Challenges were one thing. Real life was another. The moment someone on PHO realised that the 'invincible' clone-knight was controlled entirely by the fragile, one-hit wonder that the ash clone was - I'd have people looking for that trick every time. Even now, the only reason my ash clone was still surviving in its current position was because heat and shocks weren't really enough to dispel it unless they came with a significant physical component - but even one unlucky bullet bounce would dispel it now, and keep it gone for quite a while considering the length of time it had been active. If one person noticed and took a shot, the secret would be all over PHO in a week even if they were arrested - and I wasn't going to kill them in real life just to keep a lid on something so minor.
Of course, there was an equal argument that - given the nature of my powers - I'd find just as much luck protecting myself by drowning such weaknesses via sheer quantity - security through obscurity. Having so many powers, so many combinations, that people are just unable to adequately learn, guess and train against them all. I didn't need much from a challenge to completely transform that power relationship into something entirely different - if my administrator-gifted powers no longer scaled down in potency when I selected a bug, or if Blessing could target my own clones to grant durability, if I could create more than one ash clone, or stack a defensive power on top of the ash clone itself. A mover rating like the rest of Oni Lee's powerset, some other form of Master power that worked with Administrator just as well as this one - giving me yet another angle of approach that nobody expects. Enough strength on the tentacle to burrow it through the ground and hide the ash clone that way. There were so many ways that the most logical 'next-steps' from my power benefited me, it almost felt silly trying to long-term conceal the existence of such a flawed interaction with so much room to evolve. If someone saw this and developed a countermeasure, maybe that was even good - it probably wouldn't work by the time they get the chance to try it.
I hunker down next to a truck, the driver having long-since fled towards the defensive semi-circle that the remaining Merchants were cowering in. I could, easily, break that line myself - but that wasn't the ultimate aim. Now that I was within spitting distance of Squealer, I could leave that part to Taylor and my clones. I needed to get myself attached to Squealer and her vehicle before she decided to cut her losses.
I activate her Tinker power. Of course, there was nothing that I could really make with it here and now - but it was good for understanding schematics. Not a full breakdown, but glaring hard at the front section of her truck and setting the power to think of ideas - when you get three ideas back that all involve a hidden trapdoor leading into the heart of the giant vehicle, it's pretty easy to notice that there might be a running theme with the materials I was providing.
The huddle of Merchants behind me starts to break apart under the slow advance of my knight. Good distraction. Keep distracting. A little slower, maybe. Squealer was only here because she was still able to 'help' those Merchants. Winning too quickly was a problem all on its own.
I quietly take a step out of cover and towards the target vehicle, stepping in an arc away from her likely cone of vision - assuming she was firing the weapons directly. A few seconds later, my hand is touching the closest wheel of Squealer's vehicle - and I gain a new appreciation for the size of it all. PHO joked about a Monster Truck specialisation - and it was easy to see why. I could barely stretch to reach the top of the rim, let alone find a neat way to propel myself up into the heart of the vehicle without clambering up the side first. I pause for long enough to allow Squealer a moment to react - but despite a slight revving of the engine, not a single turret even blinks in my direction. Undetected. Just as I had hoped. She just wasn't that kind of Tinker. Not the type to trust in some fancy software doing things for her. She wants to rev the engine. She wants to control the wheel. And certainly, she wants to fire the guns. So if she doesn't notice me, I'm home free.
Now, phasing through the armour would be a mistake with all of those cables around. But the 'trapdoor' that I had noted earlier didn't seem electrical in nature. So, with the combination of a foothold from Clockblocker, Vista and a healthy glide from Shadow Stalker-
-I take my first step onto the roof of the vehicle for the first time. I wince as the material of the roof gives a little more than I had expected from how sturdy the construction looked, freezing for just a moment to see if Squealer noticed the sound.
She does. The engine starts screaming, and its all I can do to throw myself at the nearest turret to hold on for dear life as Squealer sets out to prove that bulk was no obstacle to acceleration. She ducks and weaves through the streets, drifting around a corner and setting herself into a wild spin - leaving the collection of despairing Merchants behind as she does her best to dislodge me from my perch.
Fuck. Gave the game away a little too early. I'd wanted the opportunity to slowly probe the 'entrance' I'd found first with the shadow state before needing to commit, and now I couldn't really do that. My handhold was poor, and it was only a matter of time before she either succeeded in knocking me off, or realised that she it was just as viable to take over the weapons and start trying to blast me off instead. That meant I either needed to get inside now, or stop the vehicle now. Throw myself down the entryway blind, or drag the car from a roaring pace to complete stillness in a fraction of a second by having it crash into a clockblocked object.
Without knowing the situation inside, that second option could kill her. Did she even have a seatbelt? Would this thing explode if disabled? Where was she even sitting within the vehicle? I'd guessed it was the bulging area near the front that seemed to be a natural position for a driver - but that was all guesswork. Nothing internal was visible from the outside.
Why didn't I use the second charge of my shadow state to muffle my landing? No, I knew why. I just wanted to conserve my defensive options. I would have done it in a challenge to maximise the odds of success, but the threat of real life was getting to me. Only, my caution had put me in a worse position now. The smartest decision was probably to back off, look for another chance the next time she stopped. But, what were the odds of that? We've long since tipped our hand at this point - even the Merchants would have to realise that the smartest thing to do was scatter. This is what they did best - PHO was full of Squealer's escape clips for this exact reason.
If I let her go, the evening was over. No more challenges tonight. The reward vault at the end of the dungeon left unopened. Worst case, the whole thing might fizzle out before they even get around to sending a hero to investigate the ruckus.
Not a chance. Not a chance.
Think about it. The worst-case scenario of throwing myself into the entrance blindly - I find myself surrounded by some sketchy generator and a few hundred cables, with a gun pointing at me. That's the absolute worst case. A scenario so unlucky, so rigged, that it could have been drafted up by my power directly.
Squealer still wouldn't kill me. Not in that scenario, where I was essentially a sitting duck. Skidmark might. Maybe. Especially if he realised the odds of two blond assholes opposing him in the span of twenty minutes was unlikely - but Squealer wouldn't. Because this was real life. And in many ways, that made it more of a game than ever before. I didn't have the reputation for brutality and lethality in real life and none of the Merchants really knew me. I was a pesky do-gooder who got too nosy, and they're a background gang too unimportant for the other gangs to stamp down on - and if Squealer gets a choice, she'll want to keep it that way.
You don't get to stay under the radar if you get the blood of the blue team on your hands. And she wasn't the leader. Even if she was inclined to think otherwise, it wasn't her decision to make.
And in every other scenario? All of the likely scenarios? That entrance is no different to phasing through the sunroof of a mobile home. I get inside, it's a wide-open room or some kind of seating area with a bunch of Tinkery-looking levers to pull. The exact kind of situation where I would hold all the advantages in a confrontation.
Come on, Greg. Tonight's your night.
I hurl myself into the hidden panel I'd identified earlier as the secret entrance. Maybe if this was more obvious, I'd be worried about some form of trap protecting it - but it had clearly been deliberately hidden in a design without any other inkling of subtlety to be found anywhere. I'd been picturing it for minutes now and I still couldn't fully grasp the exact motions and movements required to even make the latch visible to the naked eye - but I didn't need to see it to phase through it. Exactly like a manhole cover, no need for a special tool or unlock method - if it's there, I can simply phase into the hole just past it without any of the fuss.
"Hah! You thought I was driving from the front? You and every other idiot!" The shrill, mocking tone emanates from the back of the large open area I find myself in. "You have any idea the number of times every Blaster in the Bay tries to take out the part of the truck where the driver is 'obviously' sitting? Anyone would start taking precautions, the way people in the Bay seem to act like I have a Brute rating to work with." I turn to face the source of the voice. An extremely smug-looking Squealer, half-swiveled around in her chair - one hand holding an extended steering wheel, the right leg keeping a pedal pressed to the floor as the streets zip by outside the window behind her.
And between us, layers upon layers of glass-like walls, coupled with no shortage of weaponry.
"Finally." A warm, wet feeling emerges with my breathy exclamation. A slight choke in my voice.
Squealer pauses. "Uh, buddy? For a guy picking a fight with the Merchants out of nowhere, you really sound like you're about to start crying right now. Don't- don't make this weird. I just want to slam you into a few walls and leave you in a crater choking on my dust, it doesn't have to be anything more than that. If you're that scared about facing me, I guess you could- you could surrender? If you really have to?"
She doesn't recognise me at all. And she's surprisingly chill about facing an enemy Cape.
"I'm not crying. I'm just happy. Happy that I took a gamble, and things finally went my way for once." I grin. "When it seems like the world is rigged against you for so long, you kind of forget how life is for normal people. You win some, you lose some. You get lucky sometimes without doing anything to force it."
"..." She stares at me. "Motherfucker. You're looking down on me right now, aren't you?" She snaps. "And here I was, acting all nice for the new kids on the block that doesn't get how things work - but you really think you're such hot shit that you can start bragging and planning your victory speech just because you got to meet me face-to-face? You think the Tinker isn't going to be able to do a thing from this position? Bitch, I will destroy you-"
I chuckle softly to interrupt her. I couldn't say she was entirely wrong. I was extremely happy to be facing her right now. I did think I was greatly favoured in this confrontation. But, above all, I was happy because for all the defences installed in this thing sitting between me and her - not a single one of them actually blocked line of sight. There were no Capes in the Bay with powers that really worked with line of sight, save for Oni Lee - why would you need countermeasures for something like that? "Challenge." I whisper.
This time, I don't hesitate to run. Vista into Shadow Stalker into Velocity, a tried-and-tested combo that is quite simply my best 'get out of here now' option from any given position. It's even possible to start the transformation into the speed state mid-air, relying on the rapid bleed-off of my mass to protect me from any serious damage while 'skipping' a fair amount of the time usually spent paralysed while my body maintained momentum through the air.
Damn, now that I think about it - I could incorporate my version of Skidmark's power into the trick somewhere. The effect on myself at low-mass must be significant, maybe I could even completely avoid appearing frozen at all with that pushing me constantly. Although, if I just tried it without practice and preparation - I'd most likely just end up with his power grinding circles into the concrete with my face for a few seconds. That would have been overkill for this. Squealer hadn't been all that fast at charging through the wall, and while she was probably looking to cut out the small-talk this time - it was probably a safe bet that she didn't start the challenge inside her tank. She had to run in, turn it on, steer it towards my side of the building and then-
The ground shakes behind me as the speed-state kicks in and I leave the scene in a mad dash. That.
Admittedly, there is a part of me left with the feeling that approaching this challenge honestly might have been more enjoyable. An honest race, an honest Tinker-off against the vehicle Tinker? It sounds fun. I didn't regret my delays with Shadow Stalker - but I also had reasons for going into that arrangement. The easy access I had to Sophia every day, the inability to progress normally anyway, my lacking hand-to-hand skills - none of which applied here. Yes, I could probably get some good advice on Tinkering - but was I really willing to forego simply getting a better power, and a better connection to Squealer, for some slim potential like that? If things didn't go in the direction I hoped today, there were good odds that I didn't see Squealer again until I was the strongest Cape in the Bay doing a tour of victory to pick up the forgotten scraps. This wasn't the time to play it slow, or worry about the 'feelings' the simulations were emulating.
Now was the time to win. To get strong.
So, sorry Squealer. That fair challenge you were looking for, it's not happening today - not that you seemed in any kind of mood to believe me last time around.
But I know you'll be looking for my tricks from last round this time. So you'll be facing a Tinker now - just the way I'd intended to face you before you so rudely interrupted me before. I wasn't going to be able to make a vehicle that could match up, but I had faith in my one, good design: The Mecha-Blade from Leet.
No, that wasn't right. Leet didn't make this. I made this. Sure, I'd started with his - with her - design, but... it was a giant fuck-off sword and a mechanism to swing it hard. I was hardly stealing the most innovative of ideas in the first place - and after I'd changed it from a weapon attached to a mech into something closer to an exoframe with a blade attached? Yeah. Not Leet's design anymore. This was mine. Copyright holds no power here anyway.
Well. Maybe my power didn't entirely agree that it was different - because the failure chances of the original were still there, and now there was an additional chance to... I inspect the design in my mind's eye again. Right. Part of the support frame could come unhook from the arm after the weapon makes contact with a target. Very low chance, not actually that impactful in regular use. Something that could compound into problems in a potential future version, but I was pretty happy that I'd gotten lucky on the 'new' failure point for this version.
And it was just a failure chance. As much as I'd bolstered Leet's mood with the talk of 'critical hits' - the same didn't fully apply to me. Or, it did - but only if I was a real Tinker that put enough effort in. I hadn't done a good enough job with the design for that. In a perfect world with infinite time, Leet's tech should only ever have one flaw - the latest 'quirk' of the most recent version. Every 'quirk' before that should be accounted for by the modifications that went into the next prototype. The simple mechablade had the 'critical hit' where it rapidly reversed the direction of the attack at an absurd speed - in the larger mech, that threatened to rip the entire thing apart and Leet had changed it into a remotely-piloted thing for safety reasons. The flaw was still there, it was just a 'special move' now that it didn't kill the pilot. That modification to the wider mech created a new flaw, and the entire thing became a race of failure conditions and patch-jobs fighting over what gave up first.
Problem: My exoframe - and I felt like a bit of a fraud even calling the loose collection of supports designed to go over my upper body something as sci-fi sounding as that - wasn't really good enough to handle that initial flaw in the way Leet and I did in our brief 'collaboration'. If I could control the momentum somehow, or get the thing away from my body when it fires... well. There's a dozen different ideas that could probably fix it. But, no - none that I'd been able to incorporate so far within the limitations I already had. Materials. Time. Skill. The space of the box I could 'paste' the design into - a real liability when so much of it was occupied by a massive slab of absurdly-sharp metal. I wasn't arrogant enough to compare myself to the Tinkering greats just because I could print a design fast when needed. Leet could do better. Armsmaster could have done better. Hell, Squealer could probably do it too.
But, dammit - I'd built something that worked, I think. In theory. Shrunken down for my needs, but admittedly, still with the old flaws - which were now more of a problem than before.
Essentially, I had the same issue as the original mech had, except instead of the mech being twisted in half by the forces involved in the 'special move' it would now be my spine. There were probably ways to fix it, but really, it's something that I'd want to fix together with the new flaw that I'd introduced by making a second version. That part of the frame unclipping itself wasn't a serious problem, I was pretty fortunate for that. It wouldn't kill me if it happened, just slow me down while I re-secured it if I needed to keep swinging at a certain point. Trying to puzzle out the intended positives of the new quirk was a more interesting exercise - perhaps some kind of deliberate detachment could be implemented in the next version? Throwing the weapon in some way? Whatever. Leet's tech got by with dozens of similar micro-issues that went unaddressed, I'd have to do the same here.
I wasn't all that bothered. The original issue was the only one of note. Leet's design was mostly hydraulic-based save for the control panel, so my plan for an unexpected failure was simply going to be to use the Shadow State before the upper half of my body is separated from the lower half. I'd drop the weapon in the process, but most likely anything in a large circle around me would be in ruins. And if Squealer's vehicle was gone? I was going to win.
Well. I was getting a little ahead of myself. Because the workshop with all of my materials in? That wasn't an option for me right now. I wasn't sure if Squealer was just going to stay there in the tank and ensure I didn't return, or if she'd just started to loot my side of materials, or maybe even just returned to Tinkering on her own vehicle as if nothing happened - whatever her choice, she hadn't burst through the side of the building trying to find or chase after me. Which was good, in a way. Also, bad now that I think of it. Having the opportunity to ambush her as she drove around and completely take her out of the race again would have been amazing for me, and I would be able to preserve the secret about the fact that I could actually pick a fight with her vehicle without tricking her into driving around a corner too fast or into time-locked razorwire.
Nothing for it. My workshop may be gone, but there's an entire city full of resources here. There may be no people, but that didn't mean that the interior of all these buildings would be empty. There were computers to rip apart, tools to repurpose, pipes to stack up - certainly easier if I had the power tools that were right there where I started... but that was life. My amateurish attempts at Tinkering with the design are actually a boon here - because all of the materials I opted for were commonplace. I'm sure a stronger Tinker would have pencilled in some obscure alloy to reinforce the joints and maximise power and durability and that would have screwed the required material before my design would let me 'paste', but my simpler work could be satisfied with just ripping apart junk.
I had an hour. That should be plenty.
Just under fifty minutes later, I realise that the annoying part was never about finding the parts. It was about organising them.
My ability to 'paste' a design required all of the required resources to be within a certain invisible 'box' in the air that my power worked with. That had been great when Leet's blade was just hanging in the air at a perfect angle for me to experiment with, but when everything I wanted was laid out on the floor and needed neatly stacking - things became slow. Pipes? No good. They only stack most effectively when cut in half and then stacked like that. Get going, ash clone. Metal? I can't form a large enough pile with all of these scattered, irregular tools and retrieved junk. Knight, smash it together, fold them, twist them together in knots... whatever. Just get something that won't fall over as I stack the rest of this crap on top. The minor requirements of the control panel and wiring is largely handled by tossing some loose motherboards and other ripped-out internals from other devices.
"Belts." I toss the required leather into the pile, at least they could just sit at the bottom- no wait, they help tie the metal together. Getting this pile of nuts and bolts to be tall enough was the problem. The area was largely correct, it just needed to be half as wide and twice as tall - without any extra obstructions that would prevent the final result from forming.
Yes, I did try a cardboard box first. No, it didn't work. Maybe if two or three sides were left open-ended so the final result wasn't obstructed? No. No time to experiment. Just tie it together. I hold my hand out as the knight holds what looks like a giant ball of smushed metal within my target area. The rest of the equipment is being held in place by the ash clone, some precarious-looking stacks needed to be nudged periodically to be prevent them from falling over.
I frown at the rejection from my power. "Knight, you've gathered too much iron to yourself. Release more into the pile." Addressing the knight directly, even though it was actually the ash clone that controlled it - and past that, my administrator power that controlled the ash clone - might seem a little strange, but somehow it felt more natural, at least when I wasn't actively puppeting the ash clone directly. Plus, it's probably a good habit to treat them as separate entities - better for any nosy enemies to have a chance at not realising their connection.
...fine, it just sounded cool to refer to someone in my team as Knight. This wouldn't have been a problem if my team let me choose names. I was the Void Cowboy. We had a Metal Knight. My ash clone could borrow Oni Lee's vibe and be Ash Ninja. I could have picked something cool for Taylor too, and then she completely broke the theme for no reason. Not that I was surprised, whether it was naming sense or fashion - nobody was really going to Taylor for advice, to say the least.
Bug Ranger. Insect Master. Swarm Overlord. Chitin Outcast. Ah, it was just so frustrating! And then the team name-!
My musings are cut short. My Tinker power lights up as my knight practically discards its entire upper body save for the tendril holding the metal clump in place - removing any delusions that this power was centred around a humanoid figure. The newly-added metal is already threatening to roll off of the glorified pyramid-slash-dumpsite that we've formed, so there's no time to hesitate before the moment is lost.
Activate.
Just like that, the completed design settles into the floor with a thud, scattering a few small bits of material that hadn't been used up in the transformation.
"Look at that." I whisper reverently. I heft the 'arm' the blade was attached to. Okay. Heavy. Obviously. Don't just try and lift it right off the bat - get the frame on, balance the weight first. Then lift. The sword isn't supposed to be swung around by a regular dude - even this smaller version is meant for a brute. I'm not really one of those yet, but with this exoframe... I can pretend that I am for a few specific motions.
I have my ash clone help me equip it. I didn't design it to be easy to put on - I guess I'd just assumed that the frame would be quick and simple, then I'd pick up the blade. Only, I'd lost sight of the fact that the two were very much attached and inseparable. Hence, awkward session of unfolding and shuffling into a frame heavily weighted towards one side.
But I get it on in the end. A shake and a click has the blade extend, unfolding to its complete form - a size that felt absurd when wielded by me, though still a pale shadow compared to the original mechablade. The choice to have it extend like this was terrible for the durability of the weapon, but compromises were needed. The box was only so large and I had plenty more to fit in it this time than just the weapon.
Final checks. Balance? Decent. Honestly, not too different from holding a moderately heavy dumbbell in one hand with the other free. The hissing of the frame around me told me that it wasn't actually that simple, and that all I needed to do was swing a few many times or wait a little bit too long for my all-too-small power source to run out and I'd find out exactly how heavy this thing was.
It's fine. I'd left it this late into the timer for more than one reason. I didn't even have a way to refuel this thing. I hadn't needed to think of one. It was born into this world with enough juice to last a few minutes, and if I missed my shot - there'd be no second chance anyway. I had no way of catching up with Squealer.
I frown at my ash clone as I make my way to the start of the track. It had been active for too long. Far too long. Even if I dismissed it now, it wouldn't be able to reappear for nearly two hours. Which meant that I needed to keep it alive if I wanted to use it.
Which I did. Because even if I had a weapon, that didn't mean I had great ways to reach her. I figure Squealer isn't likely to accept a one-on-one clash against my obviously-dangerous weapon even if I just stand ahead of her in the road - and after last round, she'll certainly have spent the time tinkering up a solution to counter my abuse of Clockblocker's powers. Diving from a rooftop onto her car with Vista's power was as likely to end in embarrassment as not, and I'd need the Shadow State to land safely anyway - and this frame was way too big to count as 'me' to that power. It would clatter to the floor uselessly before I reform.
Need to get close, and stay close, to Squealer - without her just driving away and leaving me in the dust. Needed enough time to take a few clean swings at her. Needed for her to not shoot me before I even start to approach.
Well. How about refuge in audacity? My knight grows in size as we walk, random debris, trash and discarded cars being looted for the best material as we pass - and before long - I've got an entirely different view of the street. We'd raided plenty of buildings and dumpsters to get to this point, and there was already debris all over the road. It was great for Mush's power. The only downside, was that with the size - came the price. Safety. Of my ash clone, specifically. My usual usage had my ash clone hiding away, a large part of the tentacle of Mush's power spent on traversing the distance to where the knight would be formed. Now, I needed that tentacle to hold, gather and move material. I needed a giant. And that meant that the ash clone had to sit up here on the left 'shoulder' with me. One stray bullet or collision, and the entire thing would be gone - but the same was true for me, right?
Still. It wouldn't be enough. Maybe the real Mush could have used this as a vehicle - she could be fast when she wanted to be. This one, not so much. The tentacle was too short, and therefore too basic, incapable of the more complex movements needed to build and maintain speed. At this size, even the limbs were barely functional compared to normal - just an oversized clump of metal and debris roughly held together. This heavy walking pace was about as much as it could do at this size, moving as much material around as it is. The smaller knight is better for that, where the tentacle can double-over itself and fill out the limbs better - but, alas. Maybe when I get the next version of Mush's power. Not this time though. It wouldn't work here. Didn't need to work here.
No, my gamble here-
"What the fuck do you call that?" Squealer's loud objection carries across the street.
-was that even if Squealer was willing to shoot me with sixty minutes on the clock, that the racer-brained menace wouldn't even dream of doing the same with only a few seconds left before the race begins. I mean, I could be wrong - in which case I was ready to put the plan in action a little early, I just wanted to be closer if possible. Under the guise of lining up obediently on the starting line.
"I call this 'slightly better junk than whatever Squealer is driving'." I yell down at her. "Still working on the title, what do you think?"
"You fucking bitch! What the fuck do you think that walking pile of garbage is going to do against the best racer in the Bay?" She's actually poked her head out from her vehicle to yell at me. If I had a ranged attack...
"Beat you, obviously. Figure even a kid could work that out, why do you think I'm here at the start line? Because I think I'm slower?" I drawl, making sure that my weapon and frame is hidden behind the giant and out of her line of sight. "Is that the great mind of the legendary Tinker at work? Honestly, I don't know why you were even upset before. If you design sucks so much that it loses just by crashing into something, why do you think I'd even bother building an actual vehicle to beat you with?"
"Oh, it's on motherfucker. Don't start crying when I start lapping you just to prove the point!" Squealer ducks back inside her vehicle, revving it loudly while we both wait for the countdown. Her voice blares out over some kind of loudspeaker. "I hope you're ready for a taste of your own medicine. I'll tear that thing to pieces before you even reach the first corner. Cheating up to this point must have given you some kind of ego, because you clearly don't know who the hell you're talking to!"
The weapon systems point towards the giant, but don't fire. Tick. Tock. Twenty seconds. Fifteen. No movement to fire. I release a breath I didn't realise I was holding.
Got her.
I almost feel bad, abusing her personality like this. Clearly, she wants to race. And while she's clearly accepted that this is more of one of those roman chariot races in the movies than sedate modern-day racing, she's reserving that violent energy for the actual start of the race.
Maybe its a point of pride. Where its easy to kill me with an hour left on the clock, but killing me just before the starting gun would mean losing as a racer? I can admire that sense of fair-play in a person, but it's a liability in these challenges. The focus on beating me in a race - rather than by any means possible - is as much of a weakness here as another challenge placing me against someone missing a leg. She could have guarded the start line, gunning me down if I tried to approach and then used her headstart to avoid any potential ambushes I had laid out - that was the objectively correct move. That was the move she would make under the LUST modifier. But here? It was the REAL modifier at work. Just as that modifier was responsible for her murdering me initially after seeing my previous moves via the CONT modifier - which was a rare break from the usual NPC scenarios - here, it was closer to a liability.
Five. Four. Three. Tires squeal in anticipation. The horn of her modified truck-turned-tank bellows across the street.
Two. My knight kneels, and both my ash clone and I clutch tightly to the nearest surface we can grasp. One.
Zero.
The sound of laser fire hitting my knight is our starting gun. The knight surges forward, drifting its angle towards Squealer as her engine roars into life. One step, two step - and then, as Squealer starts to pull away, it falls.
Or rather, it lunges. The oversized lump of metal, wood and stone vaguely shaped into an arm stretches out, and then literally stretches again - the body of my knight violently reforming to provide extra reach at the expense of the rest of its form. It clamps onto the top of Squealer's tank before it can escape. Against a lesser vehicle, that might have been the end of it. I'd seen the brute-force the smaller knight could bring to bear, surely the giant one would be able to do even better? Perhaps, if the target was willing to stay still and allow it to wind up for a hammer blow of raw mass. Not the case. Squealer's truck keeps moving. No, if anything, it goes faster - despite finding itself unwillingly towing a trash-man that had been level with a few rooftops just a moment or two ago.
A beast of a motor vehicle. I'd expected that. It was all my knight could do to merely cling on at the increasing speeds, even before Squealer started attempting to shake it by weaving left and right. My ash clone steadies me as I lose my grip. Dangerous. Got to stay on. There's no plan B here. The knight can't move, and just like Mush's original power - attrition is a factor. Having the entire length of its body dragged along the street at these speeds, the knight can't help but lose its acquired mass with every bump and scrape. Soon, it won't have any choice but to start contracting to maintain its integrity - and I don't doubt that Squealer will make her escape once the unexpected 'brakes' stop working.
That's fine. I couldn't ask for anything more from the knight. Things could have gone a little better, if I could have inched a bit close without drawing suspicion - maybe I could have tested the raw power of the knight better. Actually breaking into the shell might be impossible, but flipping the tank? Maybe. But things could also have gone a lot worse. This was a pretty average result, if I had to be honest for a moment. All I really needed was for it to remain latched on. And it had done even better than that, the limb latching on to the roof had neatly squashed the weapons array that had been futilely blasting the lower 'limbs' of the knight.
God, I love the little 'secrets' of my power. The unintuitive ones, that enemies trip over when seeing them for the first time. The way my ash clone reforms faster the less time its been alive, meaning you could waste time every other second facing the ever reforming pest. The way my knight was essentially just an invincible projection, tanking up damage and leading people to think that I simply had two clone powers to deal with. The way the Echo left no trace of its existence until it was released, assuring a free hit against a charging opponent. The way that the slightest use of Vista's power was enough to throw off every melee combatants sense of a 'safe' distance from my blows. Maybe it was petty, but it felt nice getting 'cheap' wins over my enemies like that - after all, the same often happened in reverse with how these scenarios usually play out.
But I'm getting distracted. It's showtime. My ash clone and I need to finish clambering across the rapidly dissolving 'bridge' onto Squealer's vehicle before she realises exactly what's happening. I'm pretty sure she doesn't have the vision in there to see me from this angle - no obvious mirrors or cameras, certainly - otherwise she might realise that she could probably win this right away by slamming on the brakes and sending me flying.
But she can't see me clambering around up top. Most likely? She didn't see me on the shoulder at all and thinks I'm in the knight. Actually, she probably recognises Mush's power and that's why she tried shooting centre-mass - trying to hit the 'me' piloting it from inside.
I settle onto the roof as she hurtles around the corner, my knight shifting its grip to secure me before being inelegantly smashed into the building. Deliberate, of course - Squealer really didn't appreciate the literal hanger-on.
Didn't shake me though. Nice. Fucking. Try.
Point blade up. Activate vertical slash.
Metal screeches in protest as I bite into the outer casing of the tank. I grimace as some kind of foam immediately surges out to attempt to fill the gash that I had made. Didn't matter. Retrieve blade. Point right. Horizontal slash.
Another corner. This time, I'm ready - but my knight is too depleted, its grip finally completely lost as it is completely dislodged by the next building it slams into. My ash clone dismisses the connection to the power rather than risk being dispersed by the sheer force of being yanked back via the connecting tentacle. I can hear the whoop of joy and excitement from inside.
Which means she really hasn't twigged that I'm up here. Too distracted, perhaps. Or maybe the absolute cacaphony of screeching metal along the streets has deafened her as much as me. Either way, good fortune for me.
Horizontal slash. Horizontal slash. Vertical slash. Whatever the goop is, there clearly isn't enough of it. An entire section of the roof clatters down, drawing the attention of Squealer - who spins around in her seat to gape at my face appearing through the hole in the roof.
"Mind if I catch a ride?" I cheer. Vertical slash. The hole is big enough to jump through now.
I jump down, immediately regretting it as my exoframe screams in protest - one pipe erupting and starting to dribble fluid down the length of the blade. Whoops. Almost forgot that my weight isn't quite normal right now. Don't do that again.
Squealer snarls hand reaching out to something at her side. "Get the fuck out of my truck-!" Pistol? Vista's power surges to life. Vertical slash.
I grimace at the wordless scream as Squealer grasps at the bleeding stump of her hand. Vertical slash. Horizontal slash. I carve the important-looking parts of the area around her apart. Best not to kill Squealer, she could easily have a secondary vehicle waiting in the workshop when she respawns. Or a secondary vehicle right here. Or an emergency self-destruct button, an ejection button, self-defence mode, any kind of Tinker thing possible - I didn't want her doing it.
Can't activate your special levers and buttons if they've all been cut in half by a sword almost as tall as you, right Squealer?
And there was another advantage to slashing around like this. The vehicle isn't exactly functioning at 100% anymore. I'm pretty sure I just cut the rear wheel axle in half. One of the engines is gone. The middle part of the truck-slash-tank is actively slumping into the road and generating more and more sparks with every moment that goes by. All things that are likely to slow us down.
Which is good. Which is great. Because Squealer definitely isn't thinking about steering right now. No. Instead, she's trying to shoot me again with her other arm. Vertical slash-
I blink in alarm as something hesitates for a moment in my frame. A flash of pain and I dive into my shadow state, barely even recognising my own actions or the world around me as everything erupts into fire. I drop a second charge of the shadow state just to avoid the debris.
I chase after the flaming vehicle, only to stumble and-
Arm. Leg.
Mine.
Ow. I stare at the two limbs for a moment. Right. The arm was obvious. The blade ripped off the arm it was attached to. Expected. The bottom half of my leg? The leg implied that the blade had already been over halfway through its 'critical hit' when I'd entered the shadow state. My leg must have been barely in the line of fire for the reversed-hit. Unfortunate.
No, fortunate. I'd underestimated the speed of the failure. I'd assumed it would give the same amount of warning as the original, but perhaps shrinking it down had shifted things somewhat - things resolved faster and the slash came out at a greater speed compared to the original. I could at least be somewhat happy that the failure hadn't happened on a horizontal slash. Yes, my limbs wouldn't have been in the natural path of the blade - but my spine would have taken the impact that my arm had taken this time.
Well. Untested technology is-
Something. I don't know. I'm losing blood.
Shadow state. Not to heal. It won't help in time. But I can use it to move.
Use it to move to the burning, debris scattered all over the road. The boiling fluids, the melting metal and the ignited fuel creating a literal hellscape to walk through.
I throw myself into it. I allow myself to scream. But I don't allow myself to back away, not until the scent of burning flesh reaches my nose and I'm sure that the job is done. Roll over, away. Clothes are on fire - unfortunate collateral.
Everything hurts. But I still have two limbs. I reach over to the stump at my right shoulder. Bleeding? No. Other leg? No. Just black, burnt flesh and caked, reddish blood that seems to fall away like dust. Urgh. Don't look at it.
"You've had worse." I tell myself. "Just need to get up."
My body seems to disagree. Greg, you fucking idiot. This is minor. This is nothing! You've lost limbs before! You've been eaten alive! Multiple times!
I try to push myself up, at least into a sitting position. Where's my strength gone? Really.
"Could really use an ash clone at a time like this." I grouch. Fine, if I can't lift myself - I'll have a power do it for me. The ash clone would have been best, but it wasn't like I was incapable of using Mush's power myself. I just wasn't as good.
I reach for Mush's power, and come up blank.
Huh?
I check my administrator power.
"Oh, you beauty." I mentally stare at the still-active powerset. "How the fuck did you survive all of that?" I pause. "And where the fuck are you, I need you-"
I focus on the administrator power-
And find myself getting a first-hand view of Squealer's leg being snapped like a twig by a newly-reformed knight. The other leg already seems twisted and broken. My ash clone drags Squealer along the concrete as a litany of abuse assaults the two 'clones'.
Squealer's alive too. For now? I issue a quick order, Squealer shrieking in pain for a moment as the bleeding stumps of her hands are cauterised just like my own wounds.
Bring her to me. I send the order to my ash clone. It was probably doing that anyway, but it was hard to know how 'smart' it was with the administrator effect attached. In some ways, not giving it the administrator power was better for making it predictable - it didn't innovate, it didn't think. If there was a problem, it was in the command provided. With Administrator? It was basically an additional teammate all on its own, and that had only grown more true as I'd gotten better at adjusting orders on the fly without adding meaningful downtime for my other powers.
I lean back, relaxing for a moment despite the pain. Leaving this mission in the hands of the ash clone seemed... like a good idea, actually. I continue to peer through its eyes, marvelling at the absolute perfection that was the cut that had completely split the front part of the vehicle into left-and-right halves. I did that. Or, I made the thing that did that. With a small amount of help from Leet, I guess.
I mean, it wasn't perfect. Sure. Might have killed me. Definitely would have crippled me in real life. But still! Power! A perfect one-shot on another Tinker's product, something built for durability. But actually getting to get use out of my Tinker power in a challenge like this feels great.
And in real life, and maybe future challenges - I could innovate a little. Yes, my ash clone would probably disperse under the pressure of the frame and the movements - but the knight wouldn't. And, yes, the knight couldn't operate the controls - but surely that was a comparatively small matter? Remote controls, simple - surely?
Well. Actually equipping the delicate frame onto the knight would be tricky, perhaps a version three would be best in this case. Or, a version 2 part 2? How did Leet's iteration work? Could I go back and take the original mechablade and go in a different direction, only taking the original quirk into the next version? Or would all future versions along that line of products have some minor quirk to work around with the clasps? What if the new design didn't even have clasps?
I extend a finger to my ash clone as he enters my field of view. "My fucking hero. Look at you."
It doesn't respond. Stoic chad that it is. Well, it is a clone of me - in the end.
"Cool, silent type. I get it." I nod woozily.
"Stop talking to the fucking clone." Squealer snarls.
"I'll get to you in a moment." I frown. "Nothing wrong with showing my appreciation for the MVP. Especially when the MVP is, indirectly, me!"
"Just kill me." Squealer sighs.
"Nope." I shake my head. "Nuh-uh. We're in this together. You can't move, I can't really move all that well. I can't let you run off and get another vehicle out of nowhere. So you're coming with me, and we're getting carried."
"You're kidding." She levels a glare at me. Impressive, considering her position on the ground.
"Nope-ah, yes. Actually. Let me correct myself. I am getting carried-" The knight sweeps me up into a bridal carry, to allow me to gaze down smugly at the defeated Tinker. "-you are going to get dragged along. Not my choice-" I lie. "-but my ash clone doesn't really have much in the way of lifting strength. Might be a bit of a bumpy ride, but I'll do my best to keep the conversation going."
"Not interested in being lugged around by this ugly fuck." Squealer gripes. "Let me- let me go." She threatens impotently - arm stumps flailing to try and hit the ash clone. It dutifully avoids the strikes by dumping her in the dirt gracelessly, then dragging her along again as the protest dies.
"Ugly?" I purse my lips. "It's a clone. An ash clone. It just looks like me, except - you know. Ashy." I peer at it to be sure. "I mean, aside from facial features - it's just a- a blob there I guess. But the build - it's all me. Nothing you can complain about there. He looks good!" I nod at it. "Don't let her get to you. She's jealous."
"Looks like you?" She makes a considering expression. "Yeah, I stand by what I said."
"That's just immature. I'm a good-looking guy, and I'm not afraid to admit it. Maybe a few months ago, a little lacking in muscle - but honestly I wasn't even that ugly then. I was just- you know. Not hitting it off with the girls. Not sure why. Maybe the girls were actually serious when they said they weren't interested in the number of achievement points I have in World Of Parahumans? I don't know, it's hard to say." I pause at the look on her face. "That was a joke." Mostly. I only mentioned that around the girls that already had nerdy vibes to them. Like Taylor. It hadn't worked then, but imagine if it had? One shared hobby is all we'd need for sparks to start flying - no power required.
She turns her face away as she bounces along the road, my ash clones grip on her shirt more than enough to keep her moving. The cold shoulder, huh? Nice try, but girls have spent years trying to ignore me. I'll just make the conversation topic worse and worse until you have to give in and start talking back to get me to shut up.
"Ahem. But, yeah - objectively - I'm a handsome dude. Not fat. Smart. Powerful. Have you seen these muscles? I don't mean to brag but people would pay for these. I'm rich- well. Hmm. I'm rich by my standards? Like, I've looted enough wallets and purses that I don't really have money issues? And I guess I'm kind of the man of the Veder household right now. So if I really needed it, I guess the family finances are open to me. Multiple girlfriends? I think that's actually a positive thing in a guy. Like, for a girl? Total slut. No way. But for a guy? That's how you know he's a real prize. I think I've got that bad-boy kind of vibe. All that ambition and danger, I'm pretty sure girls would be swarming me if I let the world know all about myself. The PRT would be swarming me too, but I bet I'd get a bunch of love letters in prison."
She's still ignoring me.
I continue. "I mean, I'm almost running out of fingers for my good points here. Oh. Hero. Obviously total point in my favour. Bitches love heroes. And, to be clear - not just a day-to-day, go to work and collect a paycheck like a bum kind-of-hero. I'm not Velocity. A real hero. Saving people. Cleaning up the streets. Solving hot girls problems. Taylor? Whole basket case of issues. I'm all over that. Honestly, kind of fixed everything for her already it's just she kind of fucked it up for herself at the start. Sophia? Didn't have a single person who understood her! Bam! Here comes a hero, ready to give her the dicking she's been craving for years. Emma! Pow! Honestly, I never got around to asking what her whole trauma was but she really seems to be happy just being my cock slut so I've kind of just let it slide. Um. Who else? Panacea? I'll be honest, I haven't really saved her from much yet but I'm probably the highlight of her week every time I show up at the hospital so I should get brownie points for that. Like, I'm going to be piping her in a few weeks and people will get to see her smile for the first time - New Wave will make a statue for me. And then I can fuck her hotter sister too."
Squealer twitches.
"Uh, who else? Leet! Who could forget hi- uh, her! I love the show, don't get me wrong. Amazingly funny. But, total losers. Right? Let's be honest." I shake my head. "In a nice way. Doomed to fail. Saturday morning cartoon villains - you know they're going to fuck it up somehow, and you're just along for the ride. Along comes me! Boom. Leet is useful now. And hot. Like, impressive tits. I actually went back, I still don't get how my power works with all of this - the old videos... those retro gaming videos are just so much better when you've got a cute gamer girl doing them instead. I get it now, I really do. The only problem is Uber." My face darkens. "I thought he was a cool guy before, we had that cool mecha battle. Great. But now, anytime you go to look up Rule34 of Leet - and, I mean, why wouldn't you? Have you seen her now? It's always art of Uber fucking her! They're definitely not together." I grimace. "There's no way they're together, right? What do you think? Am I getting cucked? Did I turn myself into a cuck by not getting both of them at the same time? They were just bros before, definitely no romantic tension there - not even any slightly-homo jokes. There's no way. No way, right?"
Nah, there's no way.
But I should really make that visit to Leet a priority once everything was settled. The promise of working on Tinker projects was one thing, but the idea that Uber might be cashing in on my prize - that I worked so hard for! - was just too much.
"It's probably fine." I assure myself. "Uh, who else have I saved with my dazzling heroic attitude. Oh, the Cauldron chick? I'd smash, definitely. Still not entirely sure what their whole deal was, but I'm kind of getting the impression that I just need to get up to the kind of level where Eidolon was before he started being a bum - and then I body the Endbringers and... uh. I don't know, honestly. Usually these conspiracy-types have evil plans to conquer the world and the plucky hero is playing into their hand the whole time, but beating the Endbringers seems pretty sensible - right? Nobody could blame me for anything if that went badly. So, yeah. I'll just work towards that. And then, if Cauldron is actually evil and trying to rule the world? Time for me to shine. I show up, take charge. Everyone is fired from the conspiracy, I'm doing my thing. Cute agent girl can stay, I've kind of got a thing for domineering girls who used to think they could tell me what to do giving me blowjobs. Like, I'll fuck her as well it's just that blowjobs specifically - it kind of has this sense to it, right? The feeling that the tables have turned, I'm the boss now - something like that if you see what I mean."
Step. Step. Step. Squealer doesn't look at me.
"Sorry, guess you wouldn't know what I mean. You're a girl. And not even, like - NOW you're a girl - just a girl. Which is- I mean, it's all the same to me in the end. I'm not complaining. At the start I was thinking - maybe this is a little bit gay. Nothing wrong with gay people, mind you - just, not my thing, right? But then, you beat up this annoying guy and some chick with breedable hips and thick thighs takes her place and that kind of convinced me that it's definitely okay. Like, Mush. Right! Left her off the list. She's all over me too, honestly. If I was alone tonight? Breeding time. There's no way she could even string together enough words in the right order to say no and I get the feeling she's a total freak. Always the quiet ones, or something? But, you know. Couldn't make a scene with Sophia around."
I let out a groan of frustration as I keep going. "Fucking Sophia. If she wasn't with the Wards we'd be having team orgies right now. And Mush could have been in on that. It's only because I feel like I need to play things slow. All kinds of rumours about Master/Stranger protocols, right? Some people say they're useless trash, others say that they're super-spy level crap. I don't want to push too hard because I got horny, only to have the entire PRT jump me because she went to the Wards cafeteria and gave Vista a compliment. But, I kind of want Taylor and Sophia fighting over my dick already - like, that was a day-one wish from me with this power. Day one. Not too much to ask, right? Apparently it is! It took me weeks to fuck them individually, and Taylor still won't talk to me at school."
"Oh my god, stop fucking talking!" Squealer shouts. "Lalalala-!"
"Right-" I nod sheepishly.
"-lalala-" The sound is cut off as my ash clone inelegantly drops the woman sideways, landing awkwardly on her face. A moment later, it continues to drag her forward. "-the fuck-?"
"It has a mind of its own." Technically not a lie. The fact that I can also tell it what to do doesn't matter. "Maybe it got offended. I mean, this whole conversation started from you calling that guy ugly, right? And, okay, maybe I was rambling - I'll admit it - got carried away. But I think there's a lot to like about me, and the things I've been doing. More than just my body, which I guess is the only relevant part for that guy - but I feel like the other stuff is worth mentioning."
"It wasn't. Nobody wanted to hear all of that." Squealer grunts sourly. "Not a single person."
"Well. Sorry, but I'm a little woozy right now. Missing limbs, you know how it is. Wouldn't have happened if someone didn't try to shoot me." I defend myself. "I get talkative when I'm in pain, get a little frantic - not a big deal, we're all friends here."
"No, we're not." Squealer deadpans.
"We kind of are. I mean, this is the third challenge - pretty sure I've won this one. You're basically halfway to being my breeding slut. And, personally speaking? Pretty sure I'm going to have you bouncing on my dick after the next challenge gives us a relationship boost. Gotta get on with cucking Skidmark, right? If I leave it too long, Skidmark will be a chick and I'll have missed out on the chance."
Squealer grimaces. "Quite the optimist, aren't you?"
I blink. "No? Seems... pretty much the most likely thing to happen, based on what I've seen so far at least. And, don't get me wrong I'm sure your love was pure and wholesome at some point - but I've seen you guys talking and honestly it seems like a whole domestic violence thing? I mean, it's not even really NTR at that point - I'm doing a public service. Picture it. You're the hardworking Tinker, spending all day making him some fancy truck. But he's not having it! Random slap to the face, random insults and he storms out the door talking about the gang while you cry. I come in all seductive, showing you that I'm a guy who knows how to appreciate women - and you decide this is how you'll get back on Skidmark, who's never really appreciated you. POV change to Skidmark and he's completely oblivious and raging about how he was beaten and how he'll capture the dastardly Void Cowboy next time. POV change again, one creampied Squealer. Like, three times over. And a full facial. Some commentary from you about how Skidmark and his needle dick could never do the same. Perfect doujin. I'd make it myself if I could draw." I wave my finger. "That, but in real life."
"An absolutely repulsive idea." Squealer informs me sweetly.
"No, no - I think." I fall silent. "Actually, is this weird? Am I being a weirdo here? Like, objectively - I know I'm talking to myself. To my power. Just killing time, right? But it's still kind of- kind of real in a way? Or, somewhat accurate to the person - I guess?" I search around for the words. "I suppose I'm only thinking about it because I really don't talk about sex stuff that often inside my challenges. Not deliberately. I love monologuing. It's just, usually the opportunity doesn't come up. It's not like I don't think about it either. I mean, sex in general! I mean, fighting so many hot girls - it would be impossible for a normal guy not to think 'I could totally smash one of these girls after winning' - right? And, it's a simulation - way more ethical than doing it in real life, definitely. It's just, usually, the fights are either too easy or too hard - right? The ones that really piss me off to the extent that I really want to get back at them, they're usually the life-or-death sort where I just want to win by the end of it. The random students or whatever that say something stupid to me, there's no reason to do anything in a challenge when I could just win a few times and humiliate them in real life."
"To answer the question, yes. You're weird. Sick in the head, actually. The most fucking deranged, psychotic, porn-addicted creep that I've ever had the misfortune to lay eyes upon in my life." She spits out.
"I can't be an incel, I literally get laid. A lot." I object. "The rest is, I mean that's fair. That's your opinion, I suppose. I was just making conversation about this whole situation we're in. I guess I was just thinking, maybe I'm actually some secret moral paragon? I mean, I've got this whole world where I can beat up anyone and have my way with them. No one ever knows. And yet, I haven't done anything yet. Just thought about it. A lot. Which is fair, right? It's hot to think about, but then the reality is that they don't stop trying to kill you until you've broken their neck or something and now its just a bit weird to go ahead with it?"
I look to Squealer for support. I don't find it. Whatever.
I wave a hand in the air excitedly as I consider my last sentence. "Which is a great tangent, actually - because I'm pretty sure that's messing me up. Normal people - they see someone with a caved-in chest, they think 'ew' right? Total boner killer. Me? Used to be like that. Except, after a scene like that - I usually win. And winning usually involves some hot girl with massive tits throwing herself at me and sucking my dick. There's some kind of conditioning thing going on here, like-" I make a meaningful gesture at Squealer. "-you, for instance. Burns. Cut off both hands. Cuts on your face. Bruises all over your torso. Broken legs. And you know what I think when I look at you? I think - 'Damn, what a great pair of tits - they're really just all hanging out right now. I'm probably going to have my dick between those in a few days or weeks.'."
Squealer glances down with a flush, making a futile attempt to manipulate her clothing into covering more of herself. It's a pretty ineffective attempt, the movement actually serving to separate some half-burned scraps of cloth that were only just holding on. "You fucking disgusting freak." The venom in her tone is respectable.
The attempt to preserve her decency is kind of hot though. An unexpected moment of shyness from a woman truly incapable of concealing her bust. I'd initially thought she didn't care if I saw, which was hot in its own way - but I guess she just didn't notice her state.
Guess I'm such a good conversationalist that I kept her distracted.
"Can we change the conversation topic." Squealer grinds out. Did I say all of that out loud?
"Yeah, sure thing. I feel like that last topic got a bit too deep. Maybe something we come back to after the fourth challenge. Like, if you want to smash inside the challenge then - I could kind of tick it off the bucket list-" Squealer growls. "Right. Um. Oh! Look. It's the third gate!" I point at the upcoming checkpoint. "How many gates were there again? Like, fifteen? We're a fifth of the way there already!"
"Please just kill me." Squealer begs.
"No! We're getting along. Sophia was like this too in her challenge, total tsundere - pretended she didn't want to talk with me. I knew better then, I know better now. I'm onto you." I happily ignore the death stare drilling into me. "Um. Topic. Topic. Weather? No, that's stupid. Why don't we go back to the ash clone thing? Because let me tell you - that thing is only level one of Oni Lee's power. You know what that means? It means there's ways to upgrade it. And I know I'm missing the whole teleportation thing which is, maybe the entire point of the power - but he doesn't actually leave ash clones like that around. Right? They all just look like Oni Lee's. Actual Oni Lee's, not a shared build - like this guy."
"Shut up shut up shut up-" Is she crying? Can't blame her. I've got a better pain tolerance than her and even I want to cry with these wounds. And she didn't have the benefit of the shadow state to dodge most of the initial burns.
"So, hear me out - where I'm going with this - say I level up the Oni Lee powerset. Do my clones start looking realistic? Start carrying what I'm wearing? Because then there's no way you could call them ugly. Or, even better - knowing how my power is with the ladies - what if they come out looking like a female version of me? Oni Lee would probably be female at that point. Oni Leia or something-" God, I'm funny. "-so it would kind of make sense. And then I've got female clones on call that are clones of a pretty attractive guy. What's a hot-blooded male to do, am I right? I don't mean to be, you know - all gay about it - but I'd fuck me."
"That is the least straight thing that anyone has said. Ever." I grin at her grudging response. A real conversation was happening now.
"I see where you're coming from, but I mean like - in a straight way." I wave my hand. "Like, if my clone was a chick. Or, for example - I've been thinking about this - someone made an actual clone of me. Perfect copy. I look at them, and what do I see? Challenge box. In a case like that, I- they would understand that I had to do what I had to do." She stares at me, eyes full of incomprehension. "I mean, it only makes sense right? If I was a girl? Without any biases getting in the way? I'd probably want to be swept up by the harem king with the godlike dick, unlimited power and a personality that's really too nice for his own good. I'm a catch! It's not wrong to acknowledge that. And it isn't like I want to be a girl or anything, this is a thought exercise - like, if I HAD to be one, I'd definitely want to get dicked down by myself. Just to see what it was like from the other side."
Squealer looks at me with a broken expression of defeat. "How about we talk- how about we talk about your heroic accomplishments. You were- you were really listing those off earlier, right?"
"Oho, so you are interested." Tsundere. "Fine, fine. I suppose I was just about to get started on the Merchants when we stopped. Obviously, I've got to bring the gang under my heel - as any good hero would. Already talked about Mush, but what about Skidmark? Obviously, I'm going to cuck him a bit. No, a lot. Unless his next challenge makes him into a girl right away, which would actually be a bit of a shame. Just a personal thing, but I want to savour the feeling of taking his girl a few times while he's still a dude. If I'm happy that I've solved his challenges, maybe I'll even do it openly - let him watch for a while before I turn him into a girl."
I nod along with my own thoughts before continuing. "And then? Well, it's not like I'll shrug and say that all is forgiven - but I suppose I'll have to see what my power gives me to work with at the time. A feisty girl that needs taming? A power-hungry slut that needs reminding who holds the reins of power now? Some timid wreck, carrying over the inferiority issues of their old self after getting cucked? A confident lieutenant, quick to understand her new position on her knees? Ah, I can think of so many good ideas - in a way only getting one is such a tragedy. Do you think I need more people to hate? Like, start a few random feuds just so I get to savour winning more later?"
"This isn't what I meant-" Squealer tries to interrupt.
I continue merrily. "Obviously, there's other aspects that I can take a guess at for the new Skidmark. Oh! That jacket? The open chest one? I hope she still has that. I love that for women, the sides just barely concealing the nipples, but you can see the full swell of the breasts in plain view? Perfection. Built for titjobs. And I'm not just saying that - I'd be making sure she knew it. I'd be painting those chocolate orbs white before every meeting we ever have. Hell, I'd have her keep it there for the duration of the meeting - just so that everyone present understands her real role in the organisation - really show that I'm the boss." I nod in satisfaction. "Oh, and I suppose you'll be there too. Regardless of how that relationship evolves, I think it would be good for her spirit to hear and understand that I can satisfy you in ways she never could."
"You've really been thinking a lot about this. You really think you've won? After barely crossing the halfway mark?" Squealer's eyes flash. "Get this into your head. I'll never bow down to a shitstain like you. Skidmark has his flaws, but he's a better person than you are. He's better for me than you could ever be. And no matter how much you try, you'll never twist your personality into something that I would be interested in."
"So needlessly hostile." I raise my eyebrows. Sensitive subject? Well. I guess that's what the REAL modifier does for you when combined with CONT giving them an understanding of the challenges they were in. I suppose it isn't unreasonable to be bitter that your current self is unwanted, and nothing more than a stepping stone towards something better. "No need for the speech. Obviously, I don't mean literally you when I say 'you'. I get it, this version of you doesn't like me much. I mean Squealer in general. I've already made the - probably utterly worthless original - into a better version by winning the first two challenges. You're welcome, by the way - I didn't really care to check before but you were probably ugly. Or diseased. You look attractive now, no need to thank me - I did it for myself. But even if I was selfishly motivated, let's be honest - it's an upgrade as far as the rest of the world is concerned too, isn't it?"
"I am going to fucking murder you after this. Every time we meet. Dead. No talking. Ever." Squealer promises. "Dead. Dead. Dead-"
"Okay, that may have sounded a bit harsh - but don't take it personally." I protest. "It's true for a lot of people. Taylor? I don't want to be mean, but - complete loser before I got involved. Isolated loner, bullied - really makes you think she's going to shoot up the school one day. Or use her bugs. More issues than I could even count. Now? Up-and-coming heroine, only a few issues to work through. Confident. Sexy. Heroic. That's all me. You're welcome. Sophia? It's obvious there's a lot more to like about her ever since I put her in her place as my bedwarmer. She's even becoming a team player. Slowly. Mush? I didn't really see much of the original but I think the wider world won there too. Is there really a change I've made where it's actually a negative for society as a whole? I don't think so. And you're certainly no exception to that. That's all I'm saying. Everyone will be happier when I beat the challenge after this one, and you start to feel the need to show me what you can do with those tits of yours. And 'everyone' includes you too, of course. Not Skidmark - so maybe everyone isn't quite the right word... but you get the idea."
"-Dead. Dead. Dead-"
Women. Honestly.
Sometimes they just snap on you for no reason.
I'm just saying, if a few months ago some absolute goddess of a heroine told me that they were going to beat up an imaginary version of me and then use some weak Master powers to seduce me away from an abusive, drug-addled version of Taylor - and in the process, I would get a body sculpted like Adonis himself, a massive dick and get to fuck her constantly? And, if I was a Cape, I probably get some minor upgrades to my power somewhere along the way? I'd have been asking how much of my soul and wallet I needed to sign away, and I certainly wouldn't be spending any time complaining that Master powers were bad or insisting that I was perfect with Taylor because she only hits me on her bad days.
Did that make me an idiot? No. Did that make me crazy? Obviously not. Anyone can read that scenario and understand that its an absolute win. Every single straight guy at Winslow takes that offer. Every one. What does that make us? Normal.
But now flip the genders, and its problematic? I think not. I don't really expect her to start agreeing, it's just - it feels kind of unjust, when you think about it. I should have girls throwing themselves at me, begging me to look at them and take a shot at their challenges. Instead, I spend half my time plotting how to avoid a kill order. Where's the gratitude?
Still. Saying that out loud probably isn't going to win me any favours. Well. Maybe its too late to start worrying about that, judging by the already-maniacal look of fury in Squealer's eyes.
I blame the blood loss. Brain-to-mouth filter might have turned off for a bit.
Distraction. Distraction. Something that will brighten her mood before the next conversation. "Oh! Isn't that the fifth gate? We're almost a third of the way there!"
A wordless scream is my only reply.
Drama queen.
She's not even the one walking.
SUCCESS
Some time later, the knight carries me across the final gate. Squealer being kept just short of the last gate by my ash clone - just in case she managed to disperse it and crawl to the end somehow.
Not that she seems in much of a mood to try anything of the sort. Maybe she's actually an introvert? Social battery all depleted?
Doesn't matter. It's an odd-numbered Cape victory - which usually means, a power upgrade.
Reward: Tinker: Vehicles (Rugged Designs) (2)
Right on time. A straight upgrade.
Probably usable. Maybe even in the next challenge? Two out of three levels in her own speciality, I only needed to win once. Perhaps I could catch her off-guard with an unexpected angle?
Lets just see what I'm looking at.
Squealer
Merchant Villain 4/6
(EVNT) (CONT) (REAL)
Is every single one of these challenges going to be the same? I don't mind them being on a theme, but its pretty rare to see no change in the modifiers three times in a row - and at this rate, I wouldn't be surprised to see the next two be the exact same. "Challenge."
Immediately, I click my tongue. Spoke too soon, Greg. You should know better. The modifiers aren't even the most significant ways that a challenge can change its nature. It's always about the scenario.
Because there was still a racetrack around Brockton Bay - yes. Still checkpoints, still a pair of workshops. Still a familiar set of rules appearing on screen.
But that giant ramp up, creating a massive jump where the fifth gate can be seen suspended in the sky? That's new. The cutscene displaying the eighth gate halfway up the side of the Medhall tower? New. The fifteenth gate being placed on the water outside of rig? New.
Some of those, I could do. And some, I just couldn't. Obviously, you were intended to build a true all-terrain vehicle - or, perhaps multiple separate vehicles. And with my upgraded power? Maybe I could do that.
Except I couldn't. Because cars? Cars were big. My copy/paste box? Not so big. Perhaps that wouldn't be such a problem if I could create the majority of the vehicle normally in this workshop, maybe I could at least make an attempt - something to iterate on in the future, as foolish as it seems against a Tinker with the CONT modifier - but this workshop-
The wall crashes as a tank surges through. A scream of fury echoing across the room to announce my rival's presence.
-is not available to me.
"Die, die, die-" Squealer hisses over the loudspeaker. "I'll get my revenge for your incessant blabbering a thousand times over. I'll never listen to you say another word so help me-"
I make a considering expression as I eye the glowing turret pointed directly at me. "You know, I didn't mention this before but you really swear a lot less than usual when you're agitated. Is it like, just a thing you put on to blend with Skidmark or-"
FAILURE
"Wow. Rude." Not even a few lines to gloat? But it was hard to be mad. I hadn't run for a good reason. I wanted to get out of there without letting her do anything or seeing anything from me. Same logic as Armsmaster. No sense in trying to creep closer to victory by trial and error against a CONT modifier. If you ever got close, they'd adapt and close that path to you forever. Having a plan and executing it well the first time they ever see it - that was the way.
I needed... hm. What did I need? Either a perfect design, or raw firepower. The design part was interesting - Squealer's power gave me options to work with at the second level, I could feel it. I could genuinely make a decent competitor for that challenge. And the best part? I could break the allotted time limit of the challenge by designing it all in real life - or, even the challenge of some complete nobody. Squealer might be better, but even with the CONT modifier including her finalised vehicle between each challenge - she still only had four or five hours construction time total. Even if my power was worse, me spending an entire day should be able to make something that matched up.
The issue was that I couldn't paste that in once I had the right design, even ignoring the material requirement. I needed to find an upgrade to my Tinker power's box to make it larger. Car-sized. Difficult, because I only got it as a bonus from the first Tinker I defeated - so I don't think it's tied to Leet specifically. Perhaps I could upgrade it by beating a certain number of Tinkers? Armsmaster, Kid Win and Gallant. That was it around here, I think. And honestly, these days - I was kind of siding with the posters on PHO that claimed that Gallant was a fraud and wasn't really a Tinker at all. After this long, he'd make something other than that powersuit? Right? Surely. I don't care what the PRT says, Tinkers make stuff. Gallant hasn't even updated his design a single time in months. Strange. Too strange.
Anyway. Even if beating all of those guys would get me my upgraded box, it wasn't all that feasible in the short term. Which left the other alternative - using my powers to attack and delay, or complete the course without a vehicle. The speed-state would post a respectable time for most of the gates, it just probably wasn't going to beat Squealer's top speeds and some of the newer gates would be... challenging. Attacking powers? I wasn't likely to get close to her with the mechablade again. Or, at all - I'm pretty sure she's going to be all 'shoot on sight' for me right now. And that was ignoring the modifications she would make this time around. Being taken captive and neutralised as a driver was obviously the reason she lost last time, I couldn't assume she wouldn't have a solution this time around.
Ah. Vexing. Couldn't I hit a wall in the challenges next round instead? That would be so much better for me. Instead, I need... I need something. I don't know. A new power. Something I can blindside her with, that she hasn't had a chance to adapt to yet.
Whatever. I was happy. Another level of the power. I clear my vision as the real world returns, idly flicking over to the newly upgraded power to see if it had anything else to say about my surroundings.
Oh, it most certainly did. Before, I was relying on inference from the suggestions my power threw back at me. Now? I just got it. I knew what I was looking at.
"Oh, I see!" I blurt out. "I really thought the entire thing was just a giant waste of resources, a cobbled-together bunch of tough machines designed for pure brute-force, violence and nothing else - but that's actually just the shell isn't it?" My eyes alight on a thin line separating sections of the internal area I was sitting in. "It's modular. The real Tinkertech beauty is that little cabin you're sitting in. You pop it out, slide it into a new vehicle - and all of your equipment can just slot back in as soon as you make enough space for it. No wonder you've got so many weapons on the inside too, despite the vehicle seeming like a new one - all of the weapons are connected to the power core here rather than the engines cobbled together from the other vehicles."
I clap my hands together as I appraise the wider vehicle, not stopping my speech for a moment. "Brilliant. I'd always wondered how you ever found the time to maintain such a wide variety of vehicles without them all breaking down, considering your debut was pretty much nothing but that. But with this set-up you almost barely need to maintain anything - everything on the outside is just armour, protection and mobility for the squishy, valuable core you've got here. It's only the Tinkertech itself that needs maintaining, so as long as your internal work can support everything you add on the outside - you can just keep building bigger and bigger designs without the maintenance time increasing to match."
She looks unexpectedly frazzled at my excited monologue. "That's-" Her eyes narrow. "-accurate, but that won't help you win."
I let my gaze roam. "And is that- aha! Trackers. Camera screens. This isn't just a vanguard for the Merchants, its a command and control centre! You're keeping everyone organised from in here. Where's the transmitter- oh, you managed to squeeze it back there to share the power source with the screens. I love that. Is that a teleporter- ah, you've been repurposing it but you haven't finished it quite yet? Targeting problems - aha, I see. The targeting scanner doesn't pass through electrical currents so it only teleports part of the vehicle. That's a tough problem, good luck with that-"
"What are you-" Squealer blinks. "-that's what's wrong with it? No wonder-"
"You didn't know?" I tilt my head.
"I would have worked it out, obviously - dickhead." Squealer snipes. "It's just that my Tinkering time keeps getting interrupted. Like when random nobodies acting like heroes show up and attack my gang." She scowls. "And how are you even spouting off all of that crap anyway? A Thinker?"
"I am not a nobody. You should check PHO more often, I was Bagrat-levels of famous in the Brockton Bay Boards even before I became a Cape. Now? I'm pretty sure I'm the most popular poster in the city. I don't mean to brag, but - just trying to be accurate." I tick my fingers off. "I'm a grab bag of sorts. Trump. I've got a bit of a Tinker rating - so I'm able to appreciate the work you've put in here." One more finger. "Finally, we didn't randomly attack you. You guys started rampaging all over the area for no reason and we decided to intervene because we were patrolling nearby. You can't just start harassing civilians and not expect a response."
"It wasn't for no reason. It's-" She stops. "-personal. But we had our reasons. We were looking for someone. Someone who messed with Skidmark - any gang would do the same in our position."
"Did you find them?" I probe.
"No." She sounds sour about that. "That cuntbag escaped. Wherever he was hiding, he's definitely gone by now with the shitstorm those bugs were kicking up."
I roll my shoulders. "Well, to me it just looks like Skidmark lost his cool and put you all in a terrible spot with his overreaction. There's no way the PRT isn't already sending someone over. My colleague - the one with the bugs - has probably neutralised most of the normies by now. This could be the end of the Merchants, you know?"
"Not if I have anything to say about it." Squealer grits her teeth. "I'll handle you, then your friend - and we'll scram out of here. Same old story."
"It's fine if Skidmark fucks things up, as long as Squealer keeps bailing them out. Pretty sure I've seen a fair few conversations like that on PHO, seems to be a recurring theme. Maybe it's just me, but I can't help but feel that you aren't appreciated enough here." I comment idly.
"I'm appreciated just fine. I just need to do my job, and you need to put your hands above your head before I vaporise you, fuckwad." She threatens me.
"Ok, I'm going to be completely honest - my best move right now is extremely lethal to you, but even without it I'm really confident that I win." I cough. "To be clear, I have a variant of Clockblocker's powers - and you see this string?" I float it in front of us both. "Obviously, we're cruising through the streets right now - but if I freeze this, you, and the entire back half of the vehicle, are going to get diced up. I don't want to do that. I'm not that kind of guy. I've got a whole bunch of powers that help in a situation like this. I've got clones, I've got a Brute rating, intangibility - I'm just trying to say, I really have the advantage here. If we fight, it won't be close."
"We'll see." The voice is cold.
"No, no that wasn't bluster or a threat. Let me finish." I wave my hands. "I'm just saying - there isn't an actual outcome where you beat me. Right? I'm a better fighter. You're the better Tinker. I don't get to talk about Tinkering with anyone, really - none of my teammates would ever understand. So, here's my proposal - we don't attack each other. This clash between our teams? We just... watch. We talk about cars or something, and we see how the situation develops. Maybe there's a way out of this whole situation that works for both of us."
"You're bluffing." She accuses.
I bring my arm in front of my face and let it erupt into shadow. "Is that what you think? You forget, I've got the Tinker rating. I took one look inside this thing, and I see every trick you have available to you - and I. Am. Confident." I smile widely. "So. It's up to you. If you want to fight, let's fight. But if you want to say, let's mutually bow out of the battlefield for a moment - perhaps exchange ideas, one Tinker to another. And, perhaps - as one leader to another - we can work something out that doesn't involve your entire group getting thrown into a cell."
"I'm- I'm not the leader." She denies. "I can't make that kind of call."
"No? It sounds to me like you're the only one looking out for your group in all of this. You can see Skidmark on those screens of yours, right? Does it look like he's planning an escape? Is he worried about your safety? Is he trying to evacuate his men before the PRT arrive?" She remains silent in the face of my questioning. "Or is he frothing at the mouth, barely coherent? Screaming about revenge, and the terrible things he's going to do to my team once he gets his hands on us? Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I've just got a bad impression of him. But, to me - it seems like you're the responsible one here." I spread my arms. "So, again. If you've made your decision. If you think you'll win? Shoot. Or, don't. But the offer is off the table the moment you do."
"..." Squealer looks conflicted for a moment. "...I just don't want to scrape your remains off of the truck floor." The weapons between us power down.
"That wouldn't have been a problem." I grin, stepping forward into the slowly-clearing space between us - the previous obstacles and barriers slowly retracting to allow me through. "But, if it makes you feel better - let's go with that."
"You're new. All of, what - one, two Cape fights? A baby." Squealer sniffs. "I'd have wiped the floor with you, but you seem nice. Well-intentioned, at least. You don't deserve a beatdown like that, and it would be hard for me to hold back enough to handle you without damaging the inside of my truck. I need to prioritise."
"So you say, so you say." I hum as I approach. "Oh, nice quality on the screens. But I didn't see any drones flying around, and there were definitely no CCTV cameras earlier. Actually, the angle is a bit low-"
"Dash cameras. They're installed on every vehicle in the Merchant fleet. The range isn't great, but it gives me a nice overview when we send a lot of boys out like this." She explains.
"Interesting. Pretty lucky to get a view like this though." I point at the screen of Skidmark waving his hands in the air, a solid green light appearing all across the street - the swarm of fliers immediately plummeting to the ground, while the nearby Merchants merely stagger and push themselves to their feet.
"Luck has nothing to do with it. I take this seriously." She makes some gestures on the screen. The screen rumbles for a moment, then shifts to follow Skidmark as he makes threatening gestures at the street around him.
Not just a moving camera. "Autopilot? On all of them?" I merrily perch myself on the end of her seat, extracting a minor growl of protest at our sudden closeness - but it was her fault for not adding a passenger seat.
"Obviously." She snorts. "I'm a vehicle tinker. It's bad enough I have to let anyone else inside my babies at all, let alone allow them close to the steering wheel. This is practically the first bit of tech I made after joining the Merchants. I don't trust half of these fuckers to drive straight with a normal car, let alone with something I've tuned-up personally."
"Kind of impressive, actually." We both watch as Skidmark layers his power into the air next to him - hurtling a collection of pebbles into it, blasting a building off to the side with the massively-accelerated results. "How long do you think he's got before he realises that even if he's grounded all of the flying bugs with his power, that doesn't mean they can't just crawl?"
Squealer pales as she realises my meaning. "Skidmark you idiot-" I grab her wrist as she reaches out to the side.
"Non-interference, right? Whatever happens, happens." I wink. "Which is a great deal for you, by the way. Between you and me, I'm the strongest on the team - and it isn't particularly close. In the matchup between our teams, you're more than carrying your weight." I shrug. "And, besides. My teammates power may seem villainous and deadly, but she's actually the biggest softie of the group. All about arresting people properly, not brutalising villains - things like that. He'll be fine even when he loses."
Squealer clenches her fist in obvious frustration. "You expect me to just watch as we all get captured?"
"It's hardly my fault, I'm blameless here." I lie. "I mean, Skidmark sent you all out here. Skidmark hasn't sounded the retreat. Skidmark picked a fight with the heroes. Skidmark actually found a really good method of dealing with the bugs - something that completely kills my partner's ability to chase you all when you run - and then completely squandered it by deciding to stay in one place and bombard random houses on the street. What an idiot."
"He's not an idiot. He's just- distracted. He's got other things on his mind, and now a Cape fight out of nowhere - it isn't his fault." She defends quickly.
"That's nice of you to say." I state placidly. "Has he contacted you yet? If he had, he would know that the bugs are everywhere and he isn't going to hit my partner by just firing randomly in every direction. Does he even know if you're safe? Or did that not cross his mind yet. I'm not that kind of person - but I could have killed you pretty easily a long time ago and he would still be oblivious."
"He trusts me to handle myself." She almost sounds like she believes it herself.
"I'll take your word for it." I skim over to the next screen. Shadow Stalker had found Mush... and Mush seemed to have the advantage in the exchange. Understandable. Mush could be hidden pretty much anywhere inside that pile of trash, had greater speed and power - and Sophia's strongest weapon, phasing her crossbow bolts into the heart of the golem, was potentially lethal if she didn't know her target. Even a tranquiliser dart could kill if it materialised half-way through someone's throat or organs.
Well. I told her so. Bad matchup. Should have gone for Skidmark - telegraphed attacks, obvious weakness to both range and melee, weak to ambush tactics. Couldn't ask for more. And Taylor would obviously have handled Mush in seconds - her victory condition was probably already in-place right now, unlike Skidmark - who had managed to apply a repelling field on his clothes to wade through the hordes of grounded-bugs all around him.
Actually, it wouldn't be a surprise to me if Taylor was just hoping for Sophia to outright lose - only looking to step in if it looked like Mush was going to kill her. Taylor definitely seemed like she'd enjoy it if Shadow Stalker was the only one on the team to be defeated. She would definitely enjoy lording that one over the rival Cape for a long, long time.
I wouldn't entirely count Sophia out though. This wasn't battleboarding. Just because Mush should win, didn't mean that she would. The fact that Mush was probably just hoping to make a good showing and then sprint away to hide somewhere quiet was only one of the reasons I wasn't all that worried about my sort-of teammate.
A radio squawks. "Squealer! Squealer, you stupid- where are you? I need help. Stop slacking off and get over here!"
"Real appreciative." I drawl.
"That's just how he talks." She reaches her hand out, flicking my hand away. "I get it, we keep each other busy - we don't interfere. I won't say much." She clears her throat as her hand settles on a green button. "I'm busy fighting another Cape, and I'm protecting another group from the bug controller. Can't talk much right now."
The radio squawks again immediately. "Bitch, I wasn't asking. Do as I say - leave that fight and come here, stop trying to be fucking smart. Fuck the others. We're going to get wiped out if we don't gather up. Find Mush too, if she's slacking off at a time like this I'm going to throw her to the fucking dogs-" The line cuts out.
Squealer presses the button again, getting only static in return. "Fuck."
"Probably bugs inside the radio on his end, not your fault." I explain. "And don't think I didn't notice you slipping in that bit about the bug controller being here as well. I had such faith in you as well, I'm hurt."
"It's not that important." She deflects.
"No." I agree. "Because he's already lost."
Her eyes snap back to the screen at that. Skidmark is still surrounded by the protective layers of his power, but he's hammering his chest - slapping his legs. "They're under his clothes."
"Mm." I nod in commiseration. "Fighting against her is tough. At the start, you treat it like you're trying to keep mosquitos away - right? Cover up the obvious exposed skin, long sleeves, a few layers - cover up your nose, mouth and ears. But, those bugs aren't normal. They're not looking for real food or a drop of easy blood. They'll reach an obstacle and just start chewing through it. Or clambering under it. He probably didn't even realise that the bugs he's been stepping on were burrowing through his boots until they were already at his balls." Or not, but I wasn't supposed to know anything about that.
"For fuck's sake, Skids..." Squealer looks frustrated.
"Annoying, right? He just needed to expand his fields further out, walk a bit slower if he needed to. Every bug gets massively impacted by even the weakest of his fields. Honestly, it's a bit of a counter-matchup unless my teammate pulls out some of her best tricks-" Not that I expected Taylor to follow her challenge-self in firing weaponry and grenades via string-laden bug swarms. "-but personality and intelligence is part of how strong a person is too. I get it, I do. One time, I spent weeks - months, even - on PHO posting calculations and feats showing how Triumph literally could not lose to Hookwolf in a 1v1. The recharge time on his blasts, how far it knocks things of a certain weight, how long Hookwolf takes to recover and how fast he is - I had mathematically proven that if he just sits there and blasts him into the dirt on repeat, Hookwolf can't do a thing. After all of that, they actually fight for the first time - and the first thing Triumph does is stick his arm into the blender and gets rushed to Panacea. The whole thread was clowning on me, can you believe it?"
"I-" She adopts a confused expression. "I don't really use PHO much. Sorry. Not really my thing."
"Nobody is perfect." I forgive her. "And I got a bit off tangent. I guess I'm just saying I sympathise - seeing someone underperform by being dumb when you had a lot riding on their victory."
"I think seeing my gang - my family - on the brink of destruction is a bit more serious than losing an argument on the internet." She gives me a level look.
"Oh, you did get my example! Except, I didn't lose the argument - I was right in all respects. It's just, you know - idiot doesn't know how to use his powers right. Just like here, which is why I brought it up." I clear my throat. "Anyway, I'll be honest - you don't seem all too broken up about it to me. Already thinking about my offer to come to an arrangement?"
"It's not over yet. Mush is going to win her fight. We'll have one hostage each, we can exchange them - and we can all go our separate ways." Squealer squishes her arms against her ample chest.
"Technically, Shadow Stalker is a Ward - not one of ours. No idea what she's doing here. And, again - you're definitely my hostage here if we were counting. Save for our agreement to cancel each other out." I clarify quickly. "But, sure - we could do that. Or we could make a deal now. No need for any more violence at all. Here's the thing, I want to keep my group's reputation above board, so they aren't included in this - but on a personal level - I'd be quite interested in an... agreement with your gang. We work together on a few things. Nothing serious, nothing public. I'm not going to do crimes for you, you don't need to fight on my team. But my Tinker powers are - as you've already noticed - excellent at diagnosing problems very quickly. I can help you. I've got another power, which benefits very well from taking designs from superior Tinkers. You can help me." Leet's blade wasn't just a slab of metal. I couldn't draw that kind of sharpness into a design. It had taken work, countless hours of iteration and custom-built machinery to get something that sharp - and I could just skip to the final product. Forever. "And, aside from simple collaborations between two Tinkers - I would rather your position in the criminal underworld is improved, so long as it's at the expense of the ABB or the Empire. We can... make something work there, I'm sure."
"Is this a protection racket?" She questions bluntly.
I reel back, looking offended. "No, and my team would never approve of such a thing. This- this is just a thing between you and me. You're a weak gang. With weak fighters. It's pretty easy for you to run into trouble that you can't get out of. I'm just saying, in a situation like that - you could contact me. I'd be willing to loan you a favour or two for access to my strength. To the wider public, I wouldn't be helping you - but, rather, attacking the other gang that made so much noise. You get me?" I raise an eyebrow inquisitively.
"And what's in this for you?" She keeps her eyes glued to the screen as Shadow Stalker vanishes from sight, leaving Mush circling - trying to relocate the slippery Ward. "Sounds like a lot of risk for a hero to make, for very little gain. What if this all comes to light?"
"Aside from the Tinkering thing? I'm not so foolish as to think that I can end all crime in the city. It's all about keeping the right kind of groups in power. Nobody handled the Teeth until Marquis came along to drive them out. When he was captured, the Empire near enough ruled the city until Lung appeared and ripped their territory in half in a single week. If both gangs disappeared tomorrow, someone else would fill the void. Maybe someone worse. The Teeth again, perhaps? I want peace and tranquility in the Bay - quite a heroic goal, don't you think? And for that, I need the gangs to understand that they can't cross certain lines. I need them to understand that there is a wrong and a right time for them to make noise." I lean in. "I think Squealer's Merchants could be a gang like that."
"It's not 'my' Merchants-" Squealer hisses.
I interrupt. "No? Well. Skidmark's Merchants are about to be destroyed. Regardless of who wins, the PRT will arrive any second now. The heart of the gang annihilated because of a single fit of pique from their leader - too high or too drunk to care about the consequences his choices and his actions had on those around him. He's going to jail. So is Mush. So are you. So are all of those druggies passed out all over the place. Do you have any friends that will break you out?" I pause. "I thought not. Looks like that's the end for Skidmark's Merchants. But, what if Squealer quietly made a deal? If Squealer understood that a few sacrifices, a few compromises were necessary in the name of making a well-placed friend - maybe there's a way that the gang escapes the PRT's clutches tonight."
"And, what - you want loyalty? You want me dancing like your little puppet, or else you'll come back with your team to finish the job?" There's little heat to the words, almost resignation.
"No, no. I told you. This is an offer of friendship. Collaboration. Sure, I'll have suggestions - prices for any favours you need from me. But, if you truly never want to contact me again - there's no great need for you to reach out. I suppose we'll naturally clash as your gang grows, but I won't make a special effort to get revenge." I shake my head. "But I think you're overfocusing on the negatives. Did I mention my Tinker ability? Every twenty-four hours, as long as the materials are in a box like this-" I make an expressive gesture with my hands. "-and I have the design and understand it, I can instantly manufacture something. My power lets me skip every step of building it and go right to the end. I barely use that thing in real life, I don't really have the time or skill to draw up such things - I'd be willing to lend that aspect of my power to you. As a Tinker, I'm sure you can see how such a thing would be of great value to you. I can spy. I can get information out of anyone. I can heal. I'm extremely attractive. I can fight. Quite a lot to offer, for not so much in return - don't you think?"
"Tinker- you can heal?" She doesn't entirely seem to know what to focus on.
"Oh, certainly. In two entirely different ways, even. But, I'm not Panacea - I'm not a charity." I wink. "Everything has a price. It just all depends how much you're willing to pay."
"We have money, that isn't a problem." Squealer makes a wide gesture with her hands.
"So do I. It's not a priority for me." I wave her off. "No, I'd need to be paid in other ways for my help."
"Such as?" She scowls at me.
"Depends." I deflect. "What are you asking for?" I gesture at the screens. "In a few minutes - when that fight concludes, or when the PRT arrives - we'll need to conclude this fight we're pretending to have. Naturally, I win. I walk you out of here in cuffs - and not the fun kind. I'm not willing to just let you escape from me, but I don't really care if the PRT look like idiots. So, what do you want from me? What's the great escape plan?"
Squealer clasps her head in her hands. "I need- no. That won't work." She snaps her fingers. "Right. I've got a teleporter. Not this one - it was designed as a reverse-ejection seat. If I get thrown from the car, it kicks in and yoinks me back to the backup-vehicles driving seat."
My eyes brighten. "Nice, got the design for that?"
"Nice? It's absolute genius - just, the vertigo and nausea makes you immobile and useless for a while afterwards. I can modify it to trigger on distance, give the beacon to Mush and she can carry us out of here - the PRT won't want to fight her if she takes the time to bulk up properly." She eyes my expectant expression. "And, no. I don't store design documents in my babies. They're in my workshop - my real one. That's not something I can give you right now, and I'm not really that comfortable giving you the location of our biggest safehouse in the city either."
"I'll find it eventually anyway, but - fine, I can negotiate." I rub my fingers together meaningfully. "What else have you got that you can trade? I'm leaning towards the more Tinker-y products, rather than just the generic, bulky war-machines you print out. Esoteric effects. Real game-changers. But I've got to be able to take it with me, with not too many questions asked."
Squealer drums her hands against the console in front of her. "Want an invisible car?"
Ooh. "Interested." Not so much in the car, but in whatever made it invisible. If that was something I could investigate and isolate - hopefully into something portable, or at least something that could be formed out of my Paste box... I could use that. Actual stealth was powerful, particularly if I didn't need to keep it going as my active power.
"Fine, it's yours." She abruptly stands, fishing a set of keys out of a drawer. "There. It's in the far-right corner from the entrance to the courtyard. Instructions are inside." She lets off a loud sigh. "That was supposed to be a birthday present for Skidmark."
"I'll appreciate it more." I wink. "I'll take those - and you need me to get your little gizmo to Mush?"
"And make sure both of us have the bracelets on before we get loaded onto the truck. Anywhere will do." Squealer appends.
"Sounds easy enough. They didn't exactly strip-search Oni Lee when I took him down, so I imagine it will be the same here." I nod in acceptance.
Squealer considers me for a moment. "And you need to let us escape afterwards. And your team needs to let us escape. No chasing down Mush."
"I can control myself. Keeping my bug controller from taking out Mush while she runs away with you two? I'll keep the price cheap. Let's leave it at a kiss and call it a day." I hum innocently at her outraged expression.
"I'm taken." She growls.
"It seems complicated to me - and I wasn't going to say anything if you weren't." I keep up my amused grin.
She sends me an incensed look. "I'm not a whore. I'm not- that's not who I am."
"Did I say you were? I think that's something you're so called 'partner' is likely to call you. Me? I'm just an appreciator of great beauty. One kiss. It doesn't have to mean anything. I'm just a hormonal teenager, right?" I lower my voice. "If such a small thing - one so obviously transactional - can threaten your relationship, was it really that much of one in the first place?"
Squealer swallows loudly, clearly biting down on a scathing response. "Just- Whatever. It's a waste for you. I'm not interested in you. It would have been smarter to barter for more Tinkertech. There won't be another chance."
"Spoken like someone who doesn't have a beautiful woman in front of them. I can't expect you to understand my feelings on the matter. If you think you've won on the negotiations, I'm happy for you." I hold my hand out. "It's a deal then?"
She takes it. "Deal. I need time to adjust the settings first, I need to undo my last modifications - I wanted it to work on everything I had, not just people."
"Work away, I can provide pointers if you need. We can settle things once you're emotionally ready." She glowers at me for that comment.
We settle back into the chair - Squealer modifying the teleporter beacon, and I'm watching the screens. After a few minutes, Taylor arrives in person to zip-tie and blindfold Skidmark. And Mush-
"Oho." My exclamation draws Squealer's attention, she follows my gaze - and turns pale.
Shadow Stalker had managed to find the angle to personally dive into Mush's frame, and while it couldn't be captured by the camera - it seemed pretty reasonable to assume that the result was that the two girls were abruptly sharing a very, very cramped space. Truthfully, it probably wasn't as sexy as I was picturing it in my head, Sophia fighting someone in such a tight space with free reign to use her power to swing and attack? Brutal. It's no surprise when the trash golem practically implodes as Mush hastily tries to retrieve her extended limbs to defend herself - but despite the incredible power that those tentacles seem to wield when laden with material, they hit like wet paper on their own. Just a few seconds later, an exhausted-looking Shadow Stalker drags Mush out of her trashcan - near-collapsing onto one knee before putting Mush into a basic armlock.
Hm. I'm actually impressed she won that - I'm almost sad that I missed most of it. The lack of sound was a shame too, the verbal abuse would have been a delight.
But more importantly... "Looks like the original plan is a bust." I offer.
Squealer grimaces, then tosses aside her tools - leaving the next bracelet half-untouched. "Fuck. New plan. We'll take over the prison truck after they put us in. I've got tools for that, we use it to steal high-end cars and trucks sometimes - this is no different. Just need you to handle the timing and act as a pilot, it isn't smart enough to handle itself."
"And what do you have to offer for me to do that?" I tilt my head curiously.
Squealer stiffens. "We already made this deal. You help us escape the PRT, and then we're even."
"No, I think it was something about getting a teleporter to Mush?" I place a finger on my chin as if trying to remember. "That might not be your plan anymore, but a deal is a deal." I lean towards her, whispering into her ear. "Of course, if you want another deal to negotiate a different plan - I'm all ears. Just remember. Our negotiation positions have significantly swung in my favour." I chuckle. "For a suggestion, how about you hand me that teleporter that you don't need any more?"
"This is months of work. Literal months. Maybe the single most important thing I own in my entire collection." The blonde utters, an almost dead tone in her voice.
"Months? But didn't I tell you? You can simply book my services, if we're going to be friends from now on. All you would need to do is show me the design and bring me the materials - I could create one for you every day for a week straight. I think this, barely-working prototype - stuck between two different versions - is near worthless compared to that." I explain. I knew the worth of my Tinker power. It wasn't worth much to me. But to Leet? To Armsmaster? To Squealer? Revolutionary. They'd kill for even a single use.
If I wasn't worried about being kidnapped and if it wasn't for the fact that I didn't really need money right now, I'd already be advertising my services to Toybox.
"Except I have no intention of ever seeing you again after this." Squealer scowls. "Let alone hand over one of the greatest features I've ever designed for one of my babies to a- a thief."
"Your choice. I'm just saying, I'm available. I meant every word I said earlier. We don't need to be enemies. It could be a lucrative, enjoyable partnership for everyone involved." I kick my feet up onto the console. "Anyway, if you don't need my help - that's fine. I'll just wait around until the PRT show up, then we can head out together."
I get silence in response to that. A full minute of silent stewing, half-audible mumbling and an all-too-brief attempt to reach out to the weapon control system. My ash clone slaps that hand away, and she startles at the realisation that my silent guardian has been sitting behind us for a long time now. Outnumbered from the moment I sat down.
"...I'm-" She straightens, face taking a serious expression. A hint of anger, a hint of bitterness and a hint of resignation. But, a hint of hope as well. "-I'm ready to make a deal." And already, the flush of embarrassment on her face as she mentally considers exactly what she needs to offer for my cooperation.
Maybe it seems like I'm twisting her arm a bit here. I almost seem like the bad guy. But - any other hero would have beaten her up already and she'd be waiting for a pickup to the cells any moment now. At which point, I'd loot all the Tinkertech she left behind that I could carry. I might sound like an asshole, but I was genuinely offering great deals here that nobody else would.
And besides. She didn't have to be a villain - she can hardly complain when things don't go her way in her career. Villains lose. Heroes win. That's how it is.
And I'm the hero of this story.
---
"Void!" Tay- Arachne bounds up to me as I march Squealer onwards. "You won too, good. I was worried when that truck left my range. At that speed, a crash would have been-"
"Oh, hey Arachne - wave to PHO! I'm recording our victory speech." I tilt the phone towards her. Taylor stiffens, straightens and then slowly, woodenly waves to the camera. "Everyone's favourite bug hero and I just completely wiped the floor with Skidmark and his gang. I've got Squealer here, and here's Skidmark on the floor - and that's Mush sulking in the corner over there. I'm not going to point the camera at her, she doesn't have a mask on - basic decency, right?" Mush makes a frantic gesture at the sound of my voice, as if to summon help to aid in her escape. I discretely give her a thumbs-up and a shushing gesture as I pan the camera around the scene.
"Probably best not to show her anyway." Taylor mumbles under her breath. "Won't stop crying about not wanting to patrol the Boardwalk ever since she got here - I'm starting to feel like I'm the bad guy."
Sophia has already made herself scarce, and Taylor seems to be on the same page. Shadow Who? Definitely wasn't with us. I don't know if that will really stick in this day and age - someone probably caught the fight, but I'm not going to be the one to snitch. And personally, I was fine with people thinking we pulled off the 2v3 against the Capes of the Merchants while its in the news cycle. If she gets caught, she has an awkward conversation with her boss about unsanctioned patrols - but she knew the risks, and she made her own decisions.
I nudge Skidmark with my foot. He's... pretty out of it. Blindfolded too. Something skitters out of his nose. Yeuch. "Anyway, as you can see - a pretty excellent haul from us today. Just waiting for the PRT to get around to sending someone to pick these guys up - so this video is a little bit of bragging from us, but also a warning to the other gangs. They better be shaking in their boots knowing we're out here, getting ready to give them a bloody nose too!"
"Speaking of which, the PRT is here." Arachne murmurs, glancing at the lights in the distance.
"Taking bets on who they send. Velocity would already be here, because showing up to pick up people who are already beaten is the only thing he can do - so he's probably on vacation or they just gave up on him and fired him. Armsmaster isn't around right now. Dauntless would be here already if they were sent out. I'm thinking Assault and Battery."
"It seems like Miss Militia again." She tells me after a moment of concentration. "I think."
"Kill the mystery for me, why don't you." I gripe. I wanted the power of those two. A bit of wishful thinking wasn't wrong, was it?
Not that Miss Militia was bad. I'd gotten a lot stronger since the last time I faced her challenge. Making some progress should be easy enough. It was just a shame that they hadn't sent more heroes out.
Sure enough, a pair of marked vehicles rolls up a minute later. One transport van and one escorting car. A few PRT troops step out and fan out towards us, while Miss Militia exits and hastens towards us with professional purpose.
"Looks like that's it for our bragging rights video. Handing these clowns over to Miss Militia now. Void, out!" I tilt the phone towards Taylor.
"U-um. I'm Arachne. Thank you." She squeaks out. I give her a level look as her cheeks turn red.
I wordlessly close the livestream. "Thank you?"
"I panicked! I wasn't- PHO is your thing! I didn't know what to say!" She groans. "People are going to watch that, it's like being thrust up on stage - I needed a warning!"
Miss Militia clears her throat. "Apologies for interrupting. Void Cowboy. Arachne. A pleasure to see you again. I'm happy to see you still in good health." Translation - I'm glad you aren't dead, even though we were really trying to play fearmonger last time we met.
"Yeah, great to see you too. You're a bit late." I upload the video along with the new thread about our victory. Bring on the comments, haters.
"The city is busy." She states simply. "I'll take these three off your hands." She makes a gesture to the PRT officers to bring them forward. Skidmark is quickly bundled into the back of the van, while one officer races to find a temporary mask for Mush.
I switch to my administrator power to shift my perspective. My ash clone wordlessly fiddles with a controller as I recall our 'planning session'.
"You know, I never said you had to use tongue - but I do appreciate the bonus." My hands squeeze Squealer's ass lightly as we break away from each other.
"Shut up and listen - if you mess this up, it's all fucked." Squealer would probably claim the red in her face is all from anger and indignation, but if you ask me she agreed to this a little easily in the end. "Each wheel needs to be hit with the right marker. Once all of them are marked - correctly - you can activate the system. The system will essentially launch four autonomous units to the places you hit - and those units will seek out, latch on and then essentially raise the entire vehicle - acting as an entirely new set of wheels below them, operating according to the remote instructions. The wheels are in pairs and cant be reconfigured, if you hit the wrong side or do it back-to-front, the piloting system just won't work at all-"
"Front then back, left to right. New wheel-drone things appear the moment they stop somewhere on the route, lift the truck onto themselves, we drive it off and they can't do a thing about it because they aren't touching the ground anymore. Drive it into a Merchant stronghold and free everyone at gunpoint. It's so simple, even I can get it." I hum in acknowledgement, squeezing my handholds harder to get a real appreciation for her body. I was allowed to touch certain areas until she was ready to leave here in cuffs - some pretty fine negotiating on my part. Coupled with the stash of loot that my ash clone was holding, I was feeling pretty good about this.
Spilling the beans on my Tinker power had definitely been the right move. The more she thought about it, clearly the less she valued what she currently had. She'd demanded a demonstration before agreeing - and, fortunately, the cooldown for my Paste box didn't mean anything if I used it inside a simulation. The moment I whipped up her hastily-scribbled powertool design out of discarded waste, I just doubled - tripled - the size of the haul she was willing to give me.
Front left tyre. My ash clone marks the wheel, an imperceptible flicker of something leaving the targeting device as it clicks. On the screen, a splatter appears on the wheel - an unnatural glow indicating the successful hit. Not visible to my eyes, nor did I hear a thing. What was it, special radioactive paintballs? Some kind of liquid? Energy blast? The clone stands, then repositions for a better angle for the second shot.
"You better." She sighs, stiffening slightly as I oh-so-slowly work my way to the front of her body. Along her hips, then slowly up - to the bountiful melons being repressed by her shirt. Squeeze. Mine. "Focus!"
"We had a deal." I remind her. Squeeze. Could I have pushed for more? Maybe, maybe not. Truth is, I'd said a lot to Squealer about my intentions - and while it wasn't anything too crazy, if she wanted to go scorched-earth, go to prison out of spite and loudly start talking to anyone who would listen about me - it might raise some awkward questions for me later. Hidden agreements and working arrangements... nothing too serious, but maybe it might cast doubt on my golden-boy reputation. I didn't want to push too hard and ruin my win here - I'd gotten what I wanted out of the conversation, and more.
Squealer almost looked like she was having doubts about her decision to lean on teenage horniness to help save her stash of Tinkertech resources.
"I know." She makes a strange expression as I cup her breasts, supporting them for a moment before letting them succumb to gravity again. "Just- focus. It's important."
"I'm focusing on the important things." I promise her, fingers tracing over her clothed nipples. Peaky. "Don't worry so much, I have a lot riding on our future partnership too. Front left-"
-front right. The second shot fires home. The administrator-powered clone doesn't breathe, and there's no possibility of human error. I have it confirm the hit on the screen again, then reposition once more.
Miss Militia turns to fully face us. "Have you, by any chance, reconsidered your stance on the Wards? We haven't heard from you about power testing, even though you indicated you were interested in the idea." There's a certain note of exasperated repetition in her voice.
I smile. "Do we have to do this song and dance every time? I think we're doing fine for now. I won't rule it out for the far future, but right now? Couldn't be happier with my current team." I pull Arachne close with a grin, letting her squirm in embarrassment before one of her heroes.
"Am I wrong in saying this seems a little off-theme for you?" I probe, back to lightly groping her ass again - hands tracing along her inner thigh, absently wishing that I'd been a little bolder about where I could and could not let my hands roam in the initial deal. Ah, who was I kidding. Even if I did get a little further, I'd always wish that I asked for more. I'd want a handjob next, then a titjob - all the way up until I was breeding her over the console. I definitely wouldn't have gotten that far, so I may as well just be content that I did pretty well for myself and leave the rest for my future self to strive towards. This was only with a single relationship boost. One! And I already had her like this - even if it was arguably under duress. She still chose this. "Mini drones flying through the streets, attaching a wheel to something - you do monster trucks. Tanks. That boat-thing that Dauntless blew up."
"That bitch-" She snarls, momentarily forgetting about my actions. "-don't remind me of that. I'll get my own back on him one day - that walking insult to Tinkers everywhere!" She mentally reviews my question. "Urgh. You're sort of right, actually. It was never supposed to be what it is now. It just... naturally fell into the carjacking role when we ran into a rough spot for money, and it worked so well we never took it back for its original purpose. It was one of the first things I built that wasn't directly part of a truck. Originally, it was something that would let me convert a four-wheeled truck into an eight-wheeled one while on the move. Or, to twelve, sixteen - or even just getting back to four wheels if one was damaged somehow. More traction, specific tyre types, replacing worn or punctured tyres - it seemed like there were a lot of use cases for it back when I started. Reality was, it was more useful on paper than in real life. It's far, far easier to just protect the tyres and have great traction and versatility in the first place, compared to how awkward it is to plan out complex tricks in the middle of the street."
"At least you're getting some use out of it. I'm sure a lot of Tinkers look at their early works and cringe at how bad they were. Busting yourself out of a prison van with some of your earliest, most amateur work? That's got to boost the ego a bit." I trace a finger along her back, sliding under her shirt.
"Maybe. But only if it actually works. It's just as likely that something goes wrong, or Armsmaster shows up and he sees the whole thing on a scanner from a mile away." She looks over her shoulder at me. "There's really too many things that could go wrong, you should just let me go instead."
"Armsmaster is in New York. Big conference of all the leader-types." I dismiss. "And, I can't do that. It will be blatantly obvious that I deliberately let you go - I know you haven't seen me in action but I really couldn't possibly lose to you in melee. My teammate would know something was wrong, and they definitely wouldn't let you rescue the others alone either - they'd at least be able to delay until the other heroes show up."
"Worth a try." She sighs.
"Oh, definitely. Stall all you like." I trace along her underboob. "The longer you take to finish, the more time I get - that works out for both of us."
"Savour it, virgin - it's the last time you'll ever touch a woman." She snaps, face glowing red. "After the drones are deployed, switch over to the secondary console - they each have cameras and a decent autopilot, but no real sense of timing. Left to their own devices, they'll fuck it up and try to take the van on an open road where it can dodge and weave if they see it coming. Traffic lights, crossroads - you can work it out, right? This is critical-"
Back left. Fire. Check. Reposition.
"Um, Miss Militia?" Arachne hesitates, glancing over to where Squealer was being seated inside the van. "Have you- uh. Have you heard anything from the police? I initially assumed that you'd be taking everyone in when you arrived, but there's just one van - and there's- well. There's hundreds of these guys."
She puts on a complicated expression. "Ah, the police are often stretched over-capacity - with things being busy for us, I'm sure they're struggling to answer everywhere as well." She flicks from a pistol to a some kind of concealed knife as she rubs her forehead in a pained gesture. "I don't want to speak for them, but it's not entirely uncommon for the police to ask Capes to allow the unpowered members free - especially in large, chaotic gatherings like this."
"What!?" Arachne exclaims, sounding incensed. "That's- they're gang members! They were raiding houses earlier! Doing drugs! There were women-" She cuts herself off. "This is the majority of the Archer's Bridge Merchant's, I've tied them up and everything! It's done. I've done it - just, take them in!"
"It's not quite that easy for the police. Fitting a few hundred people into cells, it's a massive endeavour involving a huge amount of manpower that can't respond to other, potentially life-threatening calls. And then, processing them all. Actually holding them, convicting them - could you provide evidence in a court of law sufficient to convict them, not for simply being near or around a gang congregation, but for a specific crime? For all of them? There's little in the way of camera footage around here, few unbiased witnesses - if they just call you a liar, is the verdict beyond all reasonable doubt?" Miss Militia challenges her.
She takes in Taylor's broken-hearted expression, only partly concealed by her face mask.
She continues, an obvious pang of frustration in her voice. "It's infuriating. I know. I've often felt the same way. Some of those present here today will be largely harmless, only interested in indulging vices - others likely deserve to be rotting in jail, and if we had more resources in this city, perhaps they would be. As it is, the police must prioritise - to ensure the people committing the most serious crimes now, are caught and punished. And do our best to create a city where any wrongdoers who didn't learn their lesson today, are quickly caught the next time they decide to ply their misbegotten trade."
"Nature of living in Brockton Bay. Third-lowest police-to-gangmember ratio in the country for cities our size and above. Learned that on the last trivia quiz on the Brockton Bay PHO board." I shrug as both heroines turn to me. "It sucks, sure - but these guys, they don't really matter that much in the wider scheme of things. They felt safe acting up like this because they had Capes on speeddial to cover their asses if anything went wrong. Without them, the Merchants basically won't exist anymore. Just a bunch of drug dealers going back to doing their own thing. That's still a win in my book." Arachne still looks doubtful. "Here, you'd call it a massive win if we took out every single Cape in the Empire. Even if there were still unpowered guys running around - even if we had to let them go, the face of the city would be forever changed, wouldn't it?"
"I suppose. It just- this feels terrible. I really have to let them go? Like nothing happened?" Arachne looks despondent.
"I think they'd probably disagree that something happened. Being mobbed by a biblical swarm and being effortlessly neutralised by it is probably going to stick in their memories for a while. Nothing says you can't put the fear of god in them, right?" I smile. "You could even make a big scene as you free them, a huge swarm of hungering, slavering insects rushing towards them - they think they're about to be eaten, and you pass all around them, only eating away at the ties holding them in place." Taylor huffs air out of her nose at that.
"That would be wildly irresponsible." Miss Militia cuts in sternly. "The heat of conflict is one thing, but if they were to have a panic attack due to your joke - you would be the one responsible for the fallout. The consequences could follow you for the rest of your life. This is why we suggest the Wards, you're a child - inexperienced with your powers. You need guidance, mentors - people who can help make sure that you don't make a terrible mistake that you can never undo. It's easy, so easy, to underestimate the damage you could do-"
I scowl. Total killjoy moment, Miss Militia. You've already hit Taylor's trigger button, and you've just hit mine as well. Don't play the experience card against me, you couldn't know - but it really pisses me off being condescended to by a complete amateur with a fraction of my combat history. Let's get this out of the way now. "Challenge."
It has been a while. Since I tried this challenge. I tried it, one time? I think. My memory was a little foggy. A simple ZONE challenge - she's perched on a building at one end of the street, ruined cars and obstacles everywhere - and I have to navigate my way along the street to the end to kill her. A snipers wet dream, even without Miss Militia's ability to never need to reload. No alleyways, no permanent defences to shelter behind. Just a lengthy killzone scattered with potential cover if only you could break line of sight for just a moment.
Last time I was here, I was a different guy. Fresh off of the Oni Lee fight. Actually, I don't think I even had that power yet - didn't I try this one first? I've gotten some new powers and upgrades since then, but the experience is probably just as important here.
I need to start fast - I remember the starting area isn't safe. Quickfire time. Summon ash clone, gift administrator, gift Mush's powerset. Ash clone hides, and I start running. Vista, into shadow state, into second shadow state into- that's a nicely-positioned, half-broken door. Thank you. Just the right size for clockblocking, and it's even got a transparent area to peek through. Clockblock. Safe. Momentarily, at least. I've already had a half-dozen shots fired my way before I reach the door, and the instant I seem to stop - a true barrage is directed towards me. Bullets falling like rain, but not even slightly threatening the clockblocked shield. I leave Glory Girl's shield active, just in case I get unlucky with a bouncing bullet.
Just need to wait. There's two options for her here. Realise that normal bullets are ineffective, and try to hit me with AOE - or realise that behind me there's a slowly growing monstrousity forming out of broken cars, shattered windows and ruined walls.
The former to start with. The first rocket explodes ineffectually on the door, kicking up dust and debris all across the street - for a moment, I wonder if I should take the moment to shadow state away, hide behind another car and just generally take advantage of the fact that she could easily lose sight of me in the chaos. I remain put. I've got safer options, so I don't need to take a risky approach away from my shield - namely, the fact that the knight is growing, and making its way down the street. Slowly. I don't want it to catch up with me, because there's no way she isn't going to be blasting that with rockets soon and I want to be out of the blast radius.
Another rocket, this one towards the car at my side. I'm fortunate enough to glimpse the missile as it fires - spending one of my recovered shadow-state charges rather than waste the valuable forcefield. Another? A third shot flies overhead, my knight predictably tanking it centre-mass. It blasts apart some of the gathered mass... but gathering that mass up again was precisely what the power was meant to do. So long as the ash clone, hiding itself near the base of the left 'leg', was undamaged - her efforts would be futile. A fourth explosion. A fifth. I have the knight lumber forward at a faster pace, and activate my speed-state.
Three seconds where I was truly vulnerable. Where, for the first time in this challenge, I truly had no protection or way out if I was targeted. Simply landing any rocket nearby during the paralysis could potentially kill me.
But the distraction does its job. The knight lumbers forward, into an increasingly absurd barrage. From one RPG into the next, she keeps firing. And by the time she thinks to pause, perhaps when her vision of the knight is utterly obscured by smoke and dust anyway - I'm already gone, closing the remaining distance between my position and the end of the street in just a few seconds - little more than a speeding blur through the smoke while she was aiming down her sights at the giant knight. I exit my speed-state at the base of the building, then phase inside. Traps? Mines? None that I could see. I keep Glory Girl's shield up between shadow states anyway - moving between floors and keeping sound to a minimum.
My knight keeps advancing. I had thought that she would escalate to heavier weaponry, the kind that would destroy the entire street - and, by proxy, the highly-vulnerable clone fuelling all of this - but no. Perhaps its just a feature of the challenge - at least, at this first level of her challenges. Or, perhaps this was just accurately simulating her 'rules of engagement'. Only weapons of a certain level allowed within the city? That seemed like the kind of thing she would abide by, and it wasn't that uncommon for fighting styles and policies to stick around like that in some challenges.
But without that weaponry, I had a cheat code. Unless she started bombarding the base of the giant, it would win this thing alone. Almost a shame, I think I'm fully capable of beating this challenge entirely without it.
But I won't say no to the distraction. I don't see Miss Militia often. Who knows when I'll next get the chance. I surge up to her floor - her position long-since given away by the continuous rocket fire. She hears me coming. She shifts to a pistol. Wrong choice. Pinch space. Shadow state. Grapple. Punch, shadow state again as she shifts her weapon - an erratic burst of gunfire aimed with a gun awkwardly pinched at an angle between her fingers. I hurl her to the ground, stomping that hand as the gun shifts and she fires again. I kick at the head as she attempts to block, the gun shifting from one hand to the next. Glory Girl's shield to protect me for long enough to deliver a blow to the head. She's fit. Motivated. Clearly trained in melee combat. Clearly trained in finding angles to get fire her gun in these types of scenarios.
It doesn't matter. I'm better. I'm stronger.
She backpedals - pushing herself back to her feet weapon shifting to-
"A fucking knife?" I can't keep the disbelief from my voice as I surge forward. "Against me? Me?" I enter the shadow state again, partly to dodge her attempt to disembowel me, partly to disguise my own wind-up for an overhead punch. I exit the shadow state, switching straight into preparing an echo as I do my best to knock her head off with my hit. Solid connection, obviously dazed - I don't push my advantage, I go for her hand as she flails.
Crack, snap. She screams in pain even as she attempts to hurl me towards the floor for over-reaching.
No more problems from swapping to that hand. The weapon reappears in the other. Another knife. Vicious. Serrated.
Insulting. "As if people haven't been trying?" Elbow to the face. "As if a hundred people better than you didn't have the same idea. Let's go at him with a knife! That will do it!" Arm overextended. I bite, copper filling my mouth as she screams in pain. "You think I could ever make it this far if a guy with a knife was even worth thinking about anymore? With a power insistent on stacking the scales for everyone that isn't me, a knife barely even registers anymore." I hold the weapon arm away, leaving the other free as she attempts to grapple me with her legs instead of contesting with her broken hand. Slam onto the ground. "This is the person that wants to lecture about experience? Get this into your head. I'm past this! I've moved on! I'm stronger than you, I'm faster than you, I'm more experienced than you. Killed more than you. Died more than you. Faced knife-fighters a hundred times more than you. Faced guns a thousand times more than you."
I drag her up, shoving her back in the direction I came from - right into the Echo I'd been storing ever since this exchange started. A clean, perfect connection. She collapses bonelessly to the floor, completely unprepared for the hit.
I consider her for a moment, just about to kneel down and wrap my hands around her throat until the environment starts fading around me. "So I'm not taking the lecture. And don't pull a knife out again. What a joke. I can think of a dozen better choices from that position. It's like you downgraded yourself to not even having a power." I glance outside the window, considering the giant 'face' of the knight that fills the entire window - patiently waiting for me to finish the 1v1. Just the way I wanted. "I shouldn't complain. It's the first challenge. The tough part was probably supposed to be reaching her in the first place."
Maybe I'm a bit emotional. Maybe I'm more annoyed at my own circumstances than anything she said or did. Maybe I'm already wound-up because I know that, despite beating a Cape who's power is literally 'I have weapons' I know for a fact that my power is going to find a way to screw me over and keep me defenceless.
I glower up at the rewards screen as it appears. "I swear if you don't give me a weapon one way or another-"
SUCCESS
Reward: Night Watch (Toggle)
I ignore that for a moment. Not something I need to investigate right now, just on the off-chance that my hand suddenly sprouts an AK47 in front of Miss Militia. They probably have some of the 'leaked' details about how my power 'works' by now - but I didn't expect anyone to be comfortable with seeing a power thief in action. Even if I had done more to earn the power than they ever had.
Miss Militia
Heroine 2/6
(CAGE)
Odd. "Challenge." Actually, maybe it isn't that strange. It wasn't crazy to think that the intended 'early' way to beat the first challenge was to make her lose track of me in the field of cover rather than brute-forcing my way through. A focus on stealth over power and speed. That guy, that I'd only seen in challenges so far - Grue? Obvious choice. A flier might be able to slip up and away unnoticed. A continuously-respawning ash clone could keep her near-permanently occupied until she realised the trick. A bit of blind-luck and something to protect yourself might leave her doubting you had remained at the start location after the opening barrage, giving you time to sneak towards her as she searches the rest of the street for movement. Surviving an explosive by any means at all would create a dust cloud to hide in that even an unpowered person could use.
None of which was possible in the open environment of the CAGE. White room, typically few, if any obstacles to speak of - which meant that the challenger needed the ability to withstand an immediate, unceasing rain of bullets and take the fight to her. A ranged ability, a raw brute rating, enough temporary protective abilities like my forcefield and shadow state - or just the pure ability to close the gap fast. I could see it. It's a radically different check to the previous fight.
But one that I comfortably clear. Easier, even - than the one before it. Vista to lead, shrinking the space between us. Summon my ash clone as close to her as the power would allow me to spawn it, charge in. The ash clone is gunned down. Spawn it again, shadow state as she immediately turns the spray of bullets towards me. Spawn again, behind her this time now that I'm so much closer. She tries to backpedal in the face of my charge, still blindly firing as I sink the next shadow state charge into keeping myself alive - and then my clone has finished forming, bludgeoning the back of her head in a clean hit. She guns it down again, wasting time turning back and forth between us.
And now I'm here. And now my ash clone is already reforming. Killed so quickly that the cooldown may as well not even exist. She shifts to a shotgun, diving to the side rather than get pincered between us. Shadow state, and by the time I exit, I return to the physical world already clutching both of her arms. My ash clone catches up a moment later, I swap my power to it to update its instructions for the new circumstances - it reaches out to touch my shoulder, and I immediately gift it administrator and the echo powerset.
I keep her pinned in place as my ash clone rains down blow after blow onto her skull, every attack echoed before the next is even ready to loose. At some point, the frantic attempts to spray me at some impossible angle with gunfire stops - and the struggle to free her arms stops soon after.
It almost feels unfair. All the powers in the world, and she gets the one that is barely different to a well-equipped regular person once the combat range gets close enough that explosives are no longer an option.
And I don't struggle with regular people anymore.
SUCCESS
Reward: Miss Militia+
I'll take it.
Another round? The second version of her power reward would surely be a ranged weapon for me, right?
Miss Militia
Heroine 3/6
(LUST)
I pause at that. "Challenge." That was worth a think. The single-modifier challenges seemed to be a theme, but this was definitely the most concerning one yet.
Because the wiki never, ever had any mention of limits on the kinds of portable, 'standard' weapons that she could make. Even when asked directly in interviews, the true thrust of the question everyone wants to know gets avoided or deflected.
Can you make a mini-nuke? Are you actually the strongest Cape in the Bay?
The world wants to know. I want to know.
And it looks like I'm going to find out.
I don't recognise the area, but it doesn't seem too dissimilar to the first challenge. Street level, and that elevated building in the distance seemed all-too-suspicious. But the alleyways aren't blocked off by the ZONE wall this time, so I can approach from any angle I like.
Which seems easier, I think?
And I haven't been immediately fired on, so either she hasn't looked in this direction yet - or her 'aggro' hasn't been activated.
I glance around before moving. Quiet. So quiet. No cars, no birds. I can't even hear the waves from here. Kind of spooky, honestly. I dip into the nearest alleyway, then emerge into the next street over. An automatic door opens as I move past a store - one lone light flicking on in response. I ignore it.
I freeze as another sound, a series of increasingly-fast beeps, breaks through the silence from a distant building - one not even visible from this angle. Then, the sound of something launching. I immediately shift into the shadow state, then into the second when nothing seems to happen-
FAILURE
I swear viciously at the immediate white screen. Then frown in confusion as the white fades away.
Ah. I see. That wasn't the post-challenge world-deconstruction effect. That was just the raw light, heat and sound from being at ground zero. Only now, a few moments after the worst of the light from the blast has bled away - is it possible to see the usual grey-and-white effect bleeding into my vision as the challenge ends.
An empty street surrounds me. A truly empty street. Because there are no houses. No shops. Not even the road beneath me is recognisable as that anymore. I'm sitting in a crater big enough to fit the entirety of Winslow inside, a few times over. Sports fields and all. Evasion, impossible.
Question answered, I suppose.
Yes. The mini-nukes are real.
Guess I was kind of asking for that one.
It's a simple trick. Fair, too. That was it. That was the trap. Approach the building at the centre of this city, but don't make a sound - not even the slightest blip. Don't ever be seen. Because if she gets the slightest inkling of which quarter of the city you are in - that quarter isn't going to exist anymore. And it wasn't like that attack just now was a one-time thing. She could rapid-fire those if she wanted. And she would, assuming she didn't immediately see the victory screen.
Meh. I'm okay with this. Unless my second attempt lets me speed-state my way right up to her shooting perch without her noticing because she was looking in the wrong direction, I'm okay with this just being a particularly tough challenge for me. Bad matchup for my current powers. My best bet would be sneaking from house-to-house using the shadow state - but if I'd been rumbled by an automatic door, I don't doubt that I'd run into similar troubles on that path too. One motion-detecting light suddenly lights up a window? I'll bet she notices that in a city that is otherwise absolutely dead.
Something to think about. A puzzle to be solved, more than something to brute force. Which I wouldn't mind if I saw Miss Militia a lot - I could be assured that I'd find a nice route eventually and be able to claim the win. But that wasn't going to happen soon.
I was okay with that. I'd gotten my extra wins, a bit of extra icing on top of a great day. And I'd calmed down from my annoyance at her attempted lecture just a moment ago in-real-life.
"Yeah, we'll have to deal with the consequences." Taylor interrupts as reality resumes. "Unlike the consequences of joining a gang and terrorising the city I guess. No consequences for that at all." Taylor turns away, sounding bitter. "There's a few people restrained that my bugs won't be able to free - I'll go and free them now, I guess." I half-turn to follow, only for her to shake her head. "Alone. I just want some time to cool down. It's not a big deal, I'm just- tired of people getting away with things because it doesn't seem important enough to the right people."
"Arachne-" Miss Militia's shoulders slump.
"She'll be fine." I murmur quietly. "It's just, her heroic persona is pretty much the only good thing going for her right now. She wants to matter, be seen and recognised - if you take away her heroic achievements, her self-esteem goes along with it. Give her enough time to think, she'll come around to seeing today as a success to be proud of. And she'll definitely be upset about the tone she took with you. She's a big fan, you know."
"Which only makes it easier for me to disappoint her expectations of me." I blink at her tone. "I should apologise. To her and to you. You were trying to lift your teammates mood with a light joke, and I ruined it with an ill-timed lecture on responsibility. It isn't- I suppose I was recycling old speeches without thinking about the exact wording I need." She sounds regretful. "I don't truly think you are irresponsible. Your presence here, your resolve to fight as heroes despite the danger - the obvious skill and planning you've employed in your quick response to the outbreak of activity here. It's commendable. I don't mean to take that away from you."
"I don't think you need to worry about it. I understand. Arachne will too, once she calms down. It's not exactly like you started talking crazy for a moment there. You don't want us to go to jail, you'd like for us to be safe and preferably away from the serial killers with superpowers. I'm not going to start yelling at you for that." I consider her for a moment. "You won't change my mind, this isn't a fight I'm willing to run away from. But I respect where your feelings are coming from."
"It's nice of you to be understanding, but I'm not convinced that your teammate agrees." Her scarf shifts, some unseen expression on her face. "Although, she didn't seem too pleased to see me even before I said anything. I suppose she was anticipating the Wards speech before I said a word."
"We do hear it a lot. For understandable reasons. We wouldn't hold it against you, we know you're kind of obliged." I eye the direction Taylor left in, already gone into the darkness.
Unseen, my ash clone nails its fourth shot.
"If I'm not allowed to miss, why are there twenty shots in the box?" I peer at the container in confusion before returning to my holy task of kneading the breasts in front of me.
"I told you, it wasn't a carjacking thing originally. Add twenty smaller wheels onto my original babies, it was basically the same as treads. But, not much call for that in the middle of the city." She closes the box for me. "Didn't need it, but making more was easy with the resources I had. So I did. You don't need them here."
"Hm. No shooting twice just to be sure then?" I note.
"Definitely not." She confirms. "Actually, if you want to shoot something, hit a bunch of the vehicles they send as an escort. Just one or two tires, don't worry about the order. They're a real fucking bitch to detach once they latch on, so they won't be chasing anyone with half of their car held up in the air."
The ash clone realigns the device, then fires once at the sole escort car. Step one, complete. The ash clone turns, and sprints - the shadow state stirring to life to let it slip seamlessly across the rooftop, back towards the inconspicuous-looking garage that served as the 'parking' for Squealer's mobile command centre. Time for step two.
"Obliged?" Miss Militia shakes her head. "The support system the Wards provided - I know exactly how good it can be for any child with powers. I needed it, thrived in it. It saved my life in a way that had nothing to do with the safety it offered - I don't advocate for it because its convenient or because its policy, I truly believe that it's the best choice for any underage Cape in America."
"I don't doubt that. Not even going to argue it. I'm smart enough to recognise that I might not be making the smart move, if that makes sense. Protection, power-testing, an easy career, a wage for doing pretty much nothing, experts helping you train with powers, nobody in the city really wants to do make a serious life-or-death move against you - the Wards is a pretty good deal. It's helped a lot of people. I'm sure, in less fortunate countries, there's child-capes that would kill for anyone to have that kind of support and assistance through life." I tilt my head. "But it holds people back too. I- we, would never have been able to capture Oni Lee in the Wards. Or have a day like today, where we see a gang causing trouble and show up to near-enough wipe them out - rather than just shooing them back into their territory. We've made ten times the difference on our own than we could have made with the Wards. Some things are just... more important than what is strictly, selfishly best for us alone."
Her eyes soften. Damn, I'm good with these heroic speeches. They're almost enough to convince me that I have altruistic motives.
"You shouldn't have to think that way. We should be the ones making decisions like that." She continues before I can interrupt. "Not because you're too irresponsible, but because you've done nothing wrong to deserve the need to make a choice like that. Fighting like this - it can change you. I worry about the two of you - what might happen if you're forced into a corner without support. People like Oni Lee, like Lung - they aren't the type to shy away from killing to get what they want. If you're killed, if you're forced to kill to save yourselves-"
I make a cutting gesture with my hands. "We're not going into this planning to kill someone. Have you seen Arachne? Epi-pens, first-aid kits all over the place. She has her bugs follow behind her carrying them now every time she goes on patrol. I think she puts more effort into saving our enemies than she does hurting them."
"Nobody goes into a patrol thinking they're about to kill someone for the first time. It's not about preparation or your intentions. I'm not talking about your moral character here and now - I think you're good people." She pauses heavily for a moment. "Even if it isn't your fault, even if it's justified - killing can change you. It's a moral line you can't climb back across, it's always an option in the back of your mind - instead of a red line in the sand, it's calculus. I don't want that for you."
Ah, this got a bit serious. But I've definitely been making myself sound like I have hidden, mature depths so far in this conversation - and I can practically feel the approval radiating off of her every time I say something sombre and wise, and I don't think its entirely because I just got a relationship boost with her. I just need to keep channelling the wise, veteran leader-figures from my games and my approval rating with her is going to skyrocket. "I don't want that for Arachne either. Or myself, but - mostly her." She frowns at that. "I don't want to, put too fine a point on things - I'm sure it's an awkward topic for you guys right now. But with all those Thinkers and reports you get, I'm guessing you guys have a fair inkling about the nature of my powers by now? As a Trump."
She remains silent at that. Mhm. I wonder, was it a coincidence that they'd sent only a single Cape out to meet the known power copier? One of the same ones as last time? Minimising the potential gain I could get? Or was I being too cynical?
I nod. "The lack of an answer says yes. I don't honestly know what kind of power level I'm going to stabilise at. I might never get above the level I am now, maybe I'll share a spot with Dauntless and stay there - or maybe I'll be Triumvirate level if I don't find a limit to the potential copies I can gain. If that's the case, I need to accept the fact that I might need to get my hands dirty one day. The A-class and S-class threats, the kill-orders - I won't be able to just stand back and do nothing, waiting for someone else to fight for me. I've got a responsibility to do what I can - and age doesn't really play much of a part in that. You put Crawler or the Blasphemies in front of me right now - gave me the ability to press a button and kill them? Even if you say it will stain my soul forever, I'm pressing the button. I'm okay with that. I've accepted that. Pressing a button or using my powers - I'm okay with looking in the mirror and seeing a man who's willing to make that choice to save lives."
I take a steadying breath in.
I continue. "That doesn't mean I'm looking to go on a killing spree here in the Bay. Most of the villains here know to toe the line. No kill orders to speak of, and I wouldn't be all that incredible against any of those serious threats right now anyway. Don't go worrying about me." I tilt my head to the side, looking in the direction Taylor left. "Arachne? She's got the mindset of the idealist hero that you - and I - are looking to protect, even if it's covered in creepy-crawlies and she accidentally gives crooks nightmares. But she'd never willingly compromise on her effectiveness for safety either. To us, that's part of what being a hero is all about. That's not to say we'll be reckless. I'm not dumb, I know Lung is out for blood against us right now - and if not for the Empire keeping him busy, we'd probably have to spend more time lying low than we already have. I've been avoiding ABB areas for our patrols, because I don't think I can beat him in an honest fight yet. But the fight will happen eventually. And I'll have to be ready to handle him, whether he finds us - or we find him."
God, I'm such a fucking hero. I wish I recorded that. Ten out of ten speech. Managed to squeeze in all of the self-sacrificial bullshit and the deep philosophical thinking that I could in there. Acknowledging the gravity and responsibility of my power. The reality of our situation out in the Bay - the heroes are going to love that when they review the tape. That's exactly what they want to see in an up-and-coming vigilante team leader. Fucking. Nailed. It.
Miss Militia clearly agrees. "I feel like I've wronged you, hearing you talk like this. It almost feels insulting, calling you a child when you've clearly thought things through more clearly than even me." Her weapon shifts in her hand as she inspects it. "Perhaps I was projecting a little. Letting the experiences of my younger self taint my impressions of the two of you and what you needed. I get called rigid and inflexible sometimes. A stickler for the rules - something that makes me unpopular with the Wards now and then. It's one of the reasons I'm not responsible for them, a clash of personalities. But, fresh off my trigger event - and when I was your age - I needed those rules. That order. An external moral compass that I could trust, maybe even more than myself. But you're not me. That structure might not mean the same to you as it did for me." She shifts her weight from one foot to the other. "I'll still be recommending the Wards every time we meet, but I feel like I understand you better than I did than after our last meeting. I'm... happier with your reasoning, even if not the conclusion."
"That's natural, we didn't really get a chance to talk much - and I was definitely distracted with bragging about our first major success as a team." I wave her off. "You don't need to try and justify why you were being stiff with us before - I just hope you can be more relaxed around us in the future. We're colleagues by trade, even if we don't exactly share an employer."
"No, it wasn't natural. I jumped to the easiest, and least fair, conclusion regarding you and your maturity. I considered you a poor influence on Arachne, and a worse team leader - a reckless fool, uncaring of the consequences of his actions, and likely to get the both of you killed. I mistook resolve and courage for naivety and childishness. For that, I apologise." She bows her head sincerely.
I blink. One relationship boost and she's backtracking that far? That's what I like to see. She could have said nothing, I would have just moved on - but I appreciated this. And not just in the usual way that I like all attractive females bowing down and telling me I was amazing, that they were always wrong and that they'd never doubt me again - a certain level of introspection was just pleasant to see, even if it was, admittedly, fuelled by lies, deception and fraud on my part. Usually, I had no idea what exactly my targets 'remembered' out of past arguments or imagined histories - so I just constantly live in the present and pretend any old statements or arguments are entirely forgotten by both parties.
"You don't really need to apologise for anything. I know I don't exactly give off the most mature aura most of the time. I don't usually like things being too serious, makes me feel awkward - like right now, actually." I scratch my mask with a wry grin. "But, I'm glad your opinion of me has improved. I'm looking forward to a time when we can work side-by-side together." Or, front-to-front? Front-to-back? Honestly, I'm amazed I got this far into the conversation without picturing her naked and imagining what I would do with her first - and now that cat is truly out of her bag. Just how much was that uniform hiding?
"But!" She seems to ignore my words. "I can't accept one thing that you just said. You'll need to be ready to handle Lung? No. You're so intent on your own journey that you forget, we are heroes too. The Wards. The Protectorate. New Wave. Not a single person, from any of those groups, would turn away if Lung came for your life and they could help - even if it was hopeless, even if they stood no chance on their own. They wouldn't abandon you to your fate. If he comes for you, you two don't need to fight him alone. You have options - a way out, I'd rather you take that escape in advance, but even if you don't - we can help. This is what we do. Nobody would stand aside and say 'We warned them' or 'We can't anger Lung'. Nobody wants a pointless fight that could put people in danger, but saving a friend and a kindred spirit is anything but pointless. Get that into your head." She straightens up. "You might not be one of our Wards, but if I see you in hospital after you picked a fight with Lung and didn't ask for help - I'm going to be very, very angry indeed."
"Scary~" I raise my hands in surrender. "Yes, mother."
She gives a disparaging shake of the head. "Don't you start." She turns her head off to the side. "And here I was saying I should stop with the lectures, but - I hope that you can at least take that one to heart, if nothing else. I should probably apologise to Arachne as well, but perhaps another, more sincere heart-to-heart another time would be best." She looks back to me. "This conversation was enlightening for me. A reminder for me not to rush into things." She takes a step back. "I should get going, transporting these three safely needs to be the priority. Have a safe night, Void Cowboy - and your partner as well, of course."
"Of course. You too." I nod in understanding as she turns away.
A few seconds later, both vehicles are pulling away - leaving me alone in the courtyard.
I hiss out a breath between my teeth. "Man, she seemed so sincere at the end there - I almost feel bad that I'm about to ruin her day." I grumble out loud. But, when you want to be supreme overlord of the Bay - sometimes you've got to crack a few eggs. I'll have to make it up to her sometime. Preferably after a few more challenges, that way - it will be a lot easier for me to decide on a 'reward' that she would appreciate as much as me.
My ash clone firmly presses the first button, having long since arrived in position. I'd stalled pretty nicely, not that I'd really needed to - my ash clone was a speedy boy, never needing to catch its breath even when moving at what was a dead sprint for me. Launch. A half-dozen cameras spinning to life for the clone to 'look' at as the system springs to life and a series of whirring drones - each looking like little more than a giant wheel surrounded by protective casing, like a motorbike cut in half, or some twisted, overpowered unicycle - flood out onto the road to chase after the target markers that had already been set in place.
"Ah, this plan is too simple - it's frustrating." I sigh.
"What, why? Simple is good. It's harder to fuck up simple when something unexpected happens." She frowns.
"Well, I'm trying to stall as much as I can by asking pointless, obvious questions but I feel like you're already nearly done with explaining." I complain, was one side slightly bigger than the other? I know it's often a thing in women, but truthfully, it was rare for me to inspect a pair so thoroughly without being able to just stick my dick between them.
"Moving on then." Squealer snaps, eyebrows twitching. "Once everything is fired, move to the secondary command console - launch the moment they leave the courtyard, they'll follow the signal at a distance until you hit the latch command."
Aha, it's the left. Definitely the left one. "Do those commands have a confirm prompt?" I ask innocently.
"You literally just told me that you were stalling, did you really think that would work?" She asks me.
"It already did." I grin widely. "And, really - do they? Accidental press can ruin everything, yay or nay?"
She narrows her eyes at me. "It's one press, just don't open the console until you're ready. You fuck it up, that's it." She glowers down at my all-too-happy expression. "No more questions. Let's get this over with, and then you can go back to keeping your hands to yourself."
I wait before striking. Give them some time to gain distance away from me before the 'ambush' takes place. There was no reason for them to trace it back to me, I'd been in plain-sight doing nothing from start-to-end - but that didn't mean that it seemed logical for the 'attack' to occur immediately once I was out of vision, and even within Taylor's range.
Patience. Patience.
The trackers are paused at an intersection. Go time. My ash clone presses the button, even as I innocently heft the sack over my shoulder and make my way to the back of the courtyard. For any lingering souls or half-functional CCTV cameras that I missed, I'm just getting ready to leave at the time that four screeching drones slam into the stopped van, a fifth nearly flipping Miss Militia's vehicle as each one violently leverages its chosen tire corner into the air.
There's no audio for my ash clone to interpret, but I can imagine a few shouts of surprise and perhaps a burst of gunfire here and there - but the drones aren't here to hang around. They're already moving, almost before every corner is fully lifted - and the van is hurtling away, under new management, before Miss Militia has even fully registered the nature of the attack.
My ash clone blankly directs the autopilot. I don't need to puppet it directly for this task, it's easy enough that the administrator-boosted intelligence of the clone can handle it.
"And you're to regroup, re-arm yourselves and get ready to move quickly - you need to get to the escape tunnels next to the Trainyard, the one nearest the old hideou-out." She half-turns her head to glower at me as I pinch her nipples mid-speech, but doesn't allow herself to pull away from the radio. I'd gone for the real prize now, pulling clothing up and out of the way to let my hands get a taste of bare flesh.
I think I'm actually glad I didn't get the second relationship boost this time around. This feels so much more satisfying as an immediate win. Knowing just how many boundaries I'd crossed, how much Skidmark's supposed girlfriend had been willing to let me do to 'rescue' him - and she'd barely needed to be mastered to do it. Oh, she'd blustered about the value of her Tinkertech being blatantly higher to her than mere sexual harassment... but this was more than that to me. This was Skidmark's girlfriend giving another man access to her body behind his back. This was a line being crossed. An example being set. A new standard in our - and their - relationship. That this, at least, was acceptable for a certain price. That Skidmark didn't really need to know about a few trades that both parties were happy with.
"We'll be coming in a hot in a transport truck. You need to get in, with your guns around - and get us out, then we scram. Quick, clean, efficient. We're relying on you..." Squealer continues to dish out orders, sparing a frustrated glower at me as I rub, squeeze and pull at my prizes.
The angry looks, the snippy comments - that was all fine. However much she justified it, claimed that it was just to avoid jail, just to save Skidmark, just a transactional gesture to let some childish idiot do some meaningless, romance-less groping in exchange for saving the gang - at the end of the day, in the choice between loyalty in her relationship to Skidmark and the various benefits I could offer, she had chosen me. The choice had been made. And next time, it would be a little easier to make than before.
"That's it. Stop. Everything is in place." Squealer takes a firm grip on my hands to stop me in place, then yanks her shirt down to cover herself. "Hope you're happy." She affixes me with a furious glower.
"I am happy, but are we really done here?" I tease with a knowing look. Squealer adopts a wary expression. Have I really done enough to deserve a look like that? Well. Perhaps. "It's just, sometimes things happen - right? The plan isn't flawless, we should have some backups in place depending on who shows up."
"You must be an idiot if you think I don't see your angle here." She gives me a foul look.
"Of course I have an angle. You're one of the best Tinkers in the Bay-" That was a stretch but, I figure the regular compliments only serves to make me look better than Skidmark whenever she compares us. "-more resource than me, more experience than me as a Cape and you've got a beautiful body to boot. You've got a lot of things that I want. It shouldn't be a surprise that I'm the greedy-type by now." I hum a tune in my throat for a moment. "So, even if you know what I'm up to - what's the plan if they don't send out someone nice and easy to handle? What if Velocity shows up? He's not going to lose track of the van, I can promise you that much. Dauntless? Operating your system is one thing, but I'll need to make a distraction of some kind, somewhere, to get him away from you - I might even need to do something criminal. That's got to be worth a little something extra, don't you think?"
"I'm not going any further. I'm not- that's not a line I'm going to cross. It's not happening." She shakes her head. "Boundaries, staying in place - end of story."
"That's fine, I was more thinking about other things you could offer me. My loot-haul is looking a little light, you even said so earlier. I'm sure you can think of a few things to offer an up-and-coming Tinker to celebrate becoming your new partner?" I smirk at her as she creases her brow in thought. "I mean, it would be truly awful if you invested all of this - put up with so much, sacrificed so much of your work, and then it was all for nothing just because Armsmaster flew back early and we didn't have an answer for him." Reluctantly, she nods - conceding the point. "Glad we agree. Now then, how about my ash clone goes off to find something to hold any extra loot we agree on, you start thinking about Plan B, C and D - and as for me?" I angle her face up towards with a finger on her chin, enjoying the momentary squirming and flush of red in her cheeks. "If you aren't ready for us to step out of here, business concluded... then it seems our previous deal is still in effect."
My lips close on hers once more, my spare hand once more exposing her chest to the open air and settling into a groping motion. No resistance. And actually, I'm pretty sure I just heard a moan getting suppressed just now.
Skidmark, Skidmark, Skidmark. It's really your own fault, you know? Check out some hentai every now and then, you'll see what I mean. If you don't treat your girlfriend right - don't show her the appreciation a girl really needs? Some manipulative blond bastard like me is going to swoop out of nowhere and steal her heart.
We continue to kiss as I reposition my other hand. One sliding under fabric to grope her ass, the other back to tending to her tits. Don't worry, Mr Mustain. I'll treat her better than you ever did or ever could. You can just sit and impotently watch as she slips from your grasp. Between you and me? It's already over. It's too late for you. The process has already begun.
Because for all the complaints? For all the supposed reluctance? For all the insistence that she's only doing this, only sticking to the terms of the deal for a greater benefit in return?
Even in the newer deal, there was still never any stipulation requiring her to use tongue.
"Void, there you are." Arachne jogs after me as if she had only just spotted me, rather than religiously-tracking me ever since Squealer and I emerged from her vehicle. I half-turn without turning away from my target destination, sending her a half-hearted wave - I'm a little distracted by my ash clone neatly delivering the controlled van straight to the armed group of Merchants waiting for us. Nothing should go wrong, but... I can't help but be nervous. The heroes shouldn't have the time to dispatch someone on such short notice, let alone track the vehicle before its too late - but, honestly, if somehow one did arrive? There wasn't much I could do except add a prison-break to the calendar. "I'm all done. Everyone's run off."
Maybe not a literal one. I wasn't going to ruin my reputation that hard for their sake. But, pointing the right people in the right direction - seducing a few of the right people in the low-security prison they'd likely end up in? It would be easy to generate a 'mistake' that would let the three wield their powers and escape. Capes escaped prison all the time, it wasn't even crazy to think that they could manage it without me until the courts got fed up and tossed them into the more serious cells.
Maybe I was overfocusing a bit, but - I couldn't cuck Skidmark if there were bars between those three and me. Couldn't turn Mush into a shy, embarrassed wreck as I showed her the delights of being a woman. Couldn't 'collaborate' with my new 'just work-buddies' partner in Squealer. And that seemed like a waste. Them getting away was a positive overall for my plans in the Bay.
"Hey, Arachne." I nod as she settles into a walking pace next to me. In my minds eye, the van screeches to a halt under the direction of my ash clone - a group of a dozen armed Merchants making threatening gestures at the driver, who simply raises his hands in the air and obediently steps out of the vehicle. "Those three got carted off earlier. Looks like we're done with business for tonight."
"I kind of wish you got back a little faster, had a bit more time before Miss Militia came. Skidmark wasn't much of a conversationalist, but I think you would have liked to see the state Shadow Stalker arrived in. Dropped Mush off and ran with some snippy statement about how we could handle the grunt work - I think after all that talk before, she was embarrassed about how her fight went. Even when she made it here, she could barely walk in a straight line." She stretches her arms into the air. "And Mush... wasn't what I expected from a villain. She didn't want to talk much, but-" She bites her lip. "-I don't know. After facing Oni Lee..."
"Not exactly a prime example of villainy?" I guess. She nods. "I think so too. Squealer as well. Skidmark is the problematic one of the group. Honestly, I didn't appreciate that before tonight. It's like- the Palanquin. Occasional criminal things, yes - technically on the wrong side of the law. But, nobody is really targeting them. No heroes lining up to arrest them outside of a job. In the right circumstances, I wonder if those two could take the Merchants in that kind of direction - at least, once they get some kind of deal or get broken out. I don't think the PRT will be too harsh to them. They're not as bad as Hookwolf."
"Maybe. I don't know. And don't start talking about them getting off lightly now, I really want to feel like I've done something of value today." It's fortunate that she can't see my expression from her angle. Whoops. She adjusts her mask. "I meant to ask earlier, but what's in there?" She flicks her gaze to the bulging sack tossed over my shoulder.
"Loot. Tinker stuff. Better for us to have it, right? I understand it pretty well, and if nothing else - keeping it out of the wrong hands is a win all on its own." I shake the bulging sack gently. "Got some cool things, on my way to another - actually. Looking forward to showing you."
"Oh?" Taylor sounds intrigued. "Can't wait." We walk in silence for a minute. "I- I made a fool of myself in front of Miss Militia, didn't I?"
"No, not really. I think you both agree on most things, just - didn't quite find the right words. I was talking with her afterwards, she sounded apologetic for being a bit too-" I search for the word. "-well, you get the idea. I wouldn't worry about it."
"Hope you're right." She sighs. "Where is this thing you were looking to show me? We're about to walk into a wall, the gate is over there." She points left.
"Oho, you haven't found it yet? Got to work harder on your searching technique with your bugs." I grin at her, earning a confused look in response.
Two, three seconds pass. "Wait, what is that?"
"That, my dear, is our ride home. Or, wherever you want to be dropped off tonight." I flash the keys in my hand at her. "Invisible car. Don't say Tinkers never make anything cool."
"You stole a car?" She steps closer to the shimmer in her air where a few bugs can be seen bouncing off of some invisible wall.
"It's not stealing if it's from criminals. It's confiscation. Or, civil forfeiture? One of those." I tap my head wisely. "And I'm definitely not walking through the streets carrying all this for a moment longer. It's heavy."
"Don't know how to feel about this..." Arachne hesitates. "I mean, I know I don't have a driver's license."
"We're Capes, that kind of thing doesn't really apply here - and this isn't ever going to be road-legal anyway." I tap the roof of the car, initially missing and swinging at thin air instead. "Actually, we don't even need to drive it at all. Auto pilot - and the streets are pretty much empty at this time of night. Should be a pretty pleasant experience. How many people can say they've been in a Tinkertech car before? You're about to join an exclusive club."
I flick over to my ash clone as it emotionlessly watches camera feeds as the doors of the van are forced open. One, two, three Capes - stepping out, each one being freed from their cuffs in turn.
"You don't need to keep trying to butter me up, you know?" Squealer pipes up as my ash clone attempts to fit an energy weapon and the trailing cable into the bag without damaging it.
"Hm? What do you mean?" I meet her eyes for the first time in a while.
She waves a hand dismissively. "The compliments. The flirting. It isn't needed. I've already agreed to what you want, you can drop the act now." Squealer cuts a hand through the air as I try to interject. "No, let's be honest. I know I'm- flawed. Not exactly a prize on any front. It wasn't a mistake or bad luck that led me to the Merchants - this is where I belong. My value is in the things I can make. You're not going to upset me by acknowledging that."
I frown at that. "I'll admit, I'm a little upset by the implication that after all I've said, all I've done - and I haven't exactly been subtle - that you seriously think I'm not being genuine with you. Sure, the Tinkering side of things is amazing - but you need to learn to accept compliments better. You look good. Take it from a guy - a really horny guy who thinks with his dick all the time - you're hot. I've spent most of my time in this thing thinking about how much I'd like to fuck you. You made some bad decisions? Obviously, nobody hooks up with Skidmark by winning all the time - but that doesn't mean that you aren't a smart, beautiful woman who deserves a lot more respect, care and attention than she's clearly been getting all this time."
"He isn't that bad. Don't make this about him." Defensive again.
"Well, I've never dated him. But, I get the feeling that I beat him on a few fronts. I'm betting he isn't the most considerate lover. Not the most intimate or caring-" I knead into flesh with both hands. "-when's the last time he ever did something like this with you? Ever focused on what you want, what you desire? You've been enjoying this a lot, if the wetness of the seat is any indication-" Her thighs slam shut with a firm clap as she stiffens, a denial already on her lips. "-and that's perfectly natural, given all we've been up to. You've got needs too, as a woman - and I suspect he's been lacking as a provider. When's the last compliment you ever received? The last time he treated you as a partner, rather than a tool that needs to obey? How often does he hit you? He seems the type. Do you think he respects you, respects your efforts - your value as a person?"
"You've got the wrong idea about him. You're way off base." She clears her throat. "He's not perfect. Things have- things have been complicated, a bit rocky, for a while - but things aren't as bad as you're trying to imply."
"I could be wrong, I could be wrong." I acknowledge. "But I don't know if you really believe what you're saying. I'll be honest, I just think I'm better. I want you more. As a friend. As a fellow Tinker. As a lover-"
"We are not-" She instantly retorts.
"Not yet, but I'd like to be. You didn't think I did this on a whim, did you? I want you more than he does. And I think you know that. I appreciate you. Look at you, look at all you're putting on the line to save everyone out there. Your pride. Your body. Some of your greatest works traded away as currency, just to undo his mistake. I respect you, willing to do all of that - to make those kinds of sacrifices. Will he? When you're both freed, at the end of all of this - is he going to look you in the eyes and congratulate you on a well-executed escape? Thank you for saving the day?" She ignores me, I press forward. "Answer me. Will he care about what you did, how the 'fight' went? About the things you gave up to give him that second chance? Would he understand if you told him the truth? Of course he wouldn't. And especially that last one, I think your life would be in danger in that case. No. If he says anything at all, it will be to berate you - to call you a stupid, lazy bitch that didn't come to save him earlier. It's all about him. Always will be."
"He has different priorities. He's the leader of the Merchants - he can't go spending all his time fawning after me." The response is a little muted. "We can't always be treated the exact way we want. That's life. Part of being an adult."
"You didn't answer the question. What happens when you're free? The first thing he does?" I lean in as she refuses to answer. "Whatever it is, I just want you to think about everything you've done to get to that point for him to act that way - to think about what I'm offering you instead - and decide for yourself what you really want out of your future. And then, when you're ready to collaborate - to make use of any of the many services I've been offering you... I'm only one PHO message away."
The ash clone watches impassively as the three Capes retreat. Mush splits away from the crowd, leaving sight of the camera - and, most likely, finding herself a new 'home' to hide from the world in. Squealer and Skidmark are arguing, red-faces and blustering back and forth over something that can't be heard across the surveillance system.
Slap.
The argument abruptly stops, Squealer's face remaining turned to the side facing the camera as Skidmark waves around aggressively, threatening a second raised hand as he does so.
I eye the sheer number of expressions and emotions racing across Squealer's face. That's tough. She's understandably high-strung after all of that. Tense, emotionally-vulnerable, exhausted, excited, nervous, scared - the perfect time for a good partner to step in and be a supporting rock. A time to reassure her that she hasn't made a mistake - that the words of that handsome, vexing rogue of a blond were all lies and slander without any truth behind them. A time to reaffirm that she'd made the right decisions. Made the right sacrifices for the right person. That it was worth it.
Looking at the clenched fists, and the unholy look of rage and spite that crosses into her eyes before she clears her expression and turns back around - I think she didn't get the response she was really hoping for.
I think I'll be getting that message sooner, rather than later.
Thank you, Skidmark. You're the finest wingman a man could ask for.
Taylor prods me. "You seem pleased about something?"
I grin. "I'm just happy." I tell her truthfully. "Today feels like an absolute victory across the board. We did an amazing job, and my future sex life has never looked more promising." I'm being honest. Even if the exact girl that I'm thinking of is a bitter, spiteful Squealer accepting a deal that's a little 'too' generous towards me, just to get back at Skidmark mistreating her.
I can't help it. I'm not knocking Taylor, it's just pretty natural to think of fucking the hot chick I was exposed to not that long ago. I'm a guy, it sticks in my head - that's normal.
"O-oh!" Taylor isn't a mindreader, and that does incredible things for her self-esteem. "I- I almost thought that you forgot. I can- we can- find a place, whenever you want-" She stumbles over her words. "I'm ready when you are, that's all I mean."
"Then you'd best get in the back seat, because I think here and now is a perfectly good time." I find the handle and pull it open, the very act of opening it immediately causing the interior to become entirely visible.
"In here?" Taylor squeaks, even as she obediently enters through the door. "It feels a bit- a bit public, doesn't it?"
"Invisible. Car. You couldn't see anything inside it a moment ago, remember? So once we close the door-" I slide in after her, slamming it shut behind me - a shimmering effect covering the metal as I do so, although the interior remains visible from inside. "-nobody can see who is inside-" I tackle her down onto the seat. "-or what they might be doing."
Face pressed right up to mine, Taylor wets her lips. "That's true." She glances to the side. "We're moving?"
I turn her face back to me. "Autopilot." Or, a mix of that and the remote piloting feature. Keep doing your thing, ash clone - you've got the wheel. "I'll take it slow, and this thing was designed for comfort. I don't think you'd notice any movement at all if it wasn't for your power. It might seem a bit novel - but I've thought about it. This isn't a great area for us to just... find a room like we did last time, and I'd rather our first time was something a little more comfortable than a dark corner of an alleyway. But, it would be a bit of a moodkiller if any of those Merchants came back and started making a scene while we're parked - so how about we abuse the invisibility on this thing, and enjoy ourselves a late night tour of the city in our well-earned spoils of victory?"
"You don't have to sell me on the idea, Void - I already got all of that." Her knee comes up to grind against my groin, discovering my very obvious erection straining against my clothes. The corners of her mouth twitch upwards in satisfaction. "I don't want to wait any more. I don't want any more excuses. Any more distractions. I want to give you all of me, I want to have all of you." Her face darts up and forward, a slight head-tilt required to prevent our half-masks from clashing as her lips meet mine. "Here. Now." There's a pinkish tinge to her cheeks at the words. A hint of nerves. But, a quiet confidence as well.
Taylor couldn't have said this. But Arachne could. And Miss Militia thought I was a bad influence on her at first? Funny. If people could see the shrinking, innocent wallflower Taylor was originally to the girl currently shedding her costume with a salacious expression on her face - knee still teasingly grinding against my cock - they would give me a medal for managing to boost her confidence so high and really breaking her out of her shell.
"How could I say no to a command like that?" I grin as I help her peel away the rest of the outer layers of her suit. Boots. Belts. Straps and armoured plates are all messily discarded as we slowly strip Taylor down - every removal making her seem a little bit cuter. A little bit more vulnerable.
I let out a pleased hum as I make a show of appraising her once the core of the suit falls away, leaving only the final remaining layer. One finger trails down the final, skintight fabric covering her torso and crotch that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. Even outside of the parts that were simply mesh, even the parts 'covering' her were oh-so-slightly transparent. Every line, every curve of her skin was highlighted from this angle, clear as day. Her breath hitches as my finger trails past her stomach, down to her crotch - skimming lightly over the indent found there, before reversing course and sliding back up her body again. Stomach, navel, breasts, nipples - then a journey back down to her inner thighs as she squirms under the attention.
Taylor lets out a shaky breath. "Rather than teasing me, shouldn't you focus on yourself? I think you're overdressed for the part."
"I can cheat." I wink. "Look what I can do these days-" I activate the shadow state on everything except my head. My costume flops and flutters onto the seat before I reform, Taylor taking a moment to toss aside some of the fallen articles of clothing that landed on her. "-amazing, right?" Actually, harder than it seems. The default state of the power is to haphazardly shove everything generally around the body parts I wanted into the shadow state - specifically excluding something as non-uniform, large and close to the skin as clothing is a lot harder than excluding limbs or specific items.
But I persevered. A true training arc filled with repetition, tears and triumph. Admittedly, it was only because I thought I would look absolutely hardcore taking one step forward, coating myself in darkness and landing the next step as the naked, alluring devil that I am - but, the effect is really lost when all of your clothes fall into a pile at ankle level and threaten to trip you as soon as you reform. I'll keep working at it. Someday, someone will appreciate my efforts.
Well. Judging by the blatant roaming of her gaze, Taylor appreciates me. If, perhaps, not quite for the dramatics of the transformation. She smirks. "I'd love to see Shadow Stalker react to you using her power like that. She'd throw a fit."
I cast a deliberate look down at my erection. "Well, there'd be some kind of reaction - to be sure."
"Hah." For a moment, it looks like she wants to say something - but then she catches herself and shakes her head. "But that's enough about her. This is about you, and me." Taylor breathes air out sharply through her nose. She propels herself up, crawling across the seat towards me. "Let me help with that." Delicate fingers wrap around my shaft, a steady, repetitive vertical motion starting as her breath tickles against my shaft - I shift my body slightly to align my cock closer to her mouth, only for her to tilt my shaft away in a silent rejection. She tilts her head up at me as I send her an inquisitive look. "I'm- I want you to cum inside me today." Her face ignites at her own words. "W-which means, you can't blow your load inside my mouth - I don't want you wasting a drop! O-okay?"
I almost want to laugh at the cute expression, entirely at odds with her words. I really had to give myself a lot of credit, I'd done some good work with Taylor. The Taylor from before I got involved would never have the confidence to express her desires in any fashion at all, let alone so bluntly and boldly. If I wasn't already hard as a rock, those words would have done it - not because they were anything special on their own, but what they represented. That I was winning. It's easy to lose sight of my goals sometimes, but if you were to ask the 'old Greg' what kind of mental image he thought 'success' would look like once he got a power - this picture of a lewd, in-love Taylor earnestly expressing her desire to be dicked down would be right at the top of the list.
I adopt a pitiful look, fighting the urge to grin. "Even if I really, really want to?"
"Even then!" She remains resolute, even if the corners of her mouth quirk upwards. "I'm not taking any chances. If you can't get it up anymore because we were fooling around with my mouth, I'm going to be livid. You made a promise to fuck me tonight - and you've got to live up to that!"
"Really, have I ever let you down before?" My hand brushes across her cheek, along the side of the wasp-themed mask. "Should I feel insulted that you think I can't handle you for multiple rounds? I seem to remember proving the opposite with you a few times already, did you forget the state I left you in last time around? Coated inside and out - and you certainly seemed pleased with that outcome to me."
"I didn't forget. Walking home after that was-" Her cheeks might become permanently pink at this point. "-interesting. But I don't want to just repeat what we've done before, and have a quickie as well - I want you to fuck me. Then, fuck me again. And again. Until I literally can't take any more. I want to spend the rest of the evening discovering everything that I've been missing out on. I want you to make me yours, in every way that matters."
"I'm sure I can deliver on that. And when we're done, and you're begging me that you really can't take any more?" I give her a confident smirk. "I'll be expecting an apology from you."
"I'm sure I could think of a few ways to make it up to you if that happened." Taylor breathes, an impish smile on her face as she slowly stops jerking my cock - releasing it into the air. "But, do I really need to worry about that? Boys have their own limits, there'd be nothing to be ashamed of if you couldn't go the distance." Said in an all-too-innocent tone. She knows what she's doing. The way she retreats just enough to make it obvious that her spare hand has been rubbing her slit through the thin fabric of the undersuit throughout our discussion. Horny minx.
"You really can't stop yourself from baiting me, can you?" I surge forward, toppling her over backwards onto the seat once more - my body held over hers, my cock pressing harshly against her stomach. "You don't need to do all of this teasing and taunting to get me invested. You have no idea how long I've been waiting to make you mine, and now that the chance is here? I'm going to take it. You'll never be able to look at a man that isn't me after today - nobody else could ever satisfy you."
"I think I'm already yours. We're just making it a little more official now." Taylor makes a move to finally slip out of her undersuit. I stop her.
"No need for that. With your costume already designed to give me easy access, I should take advantage." I pull the undersuit at her crotch to the side, leaving her wet slit fully exposed.
"I did wonder why you stopped earlier." There's an amused tone in her voice. "You really just like messing me up in my costume, is that it?"
"That's exactly it." I line myself up against her, a slight forward gesture threatening to part her like a blooming flower. "Last chance to back out."
She seems to find the suggestion funny. "If I backed out now after all of this talking, I'd be so embarrassed that I'd never dare to show myself on a patrol again." She drawls. "Come on. Do it."
I enter her, pushing past the resistance of her inner walls in one powerful movement. Taylor's stifled gasp is music to my ears, but her expression of surprise is quickly followed by a look of pure satisfaction - her eyelids fluttering shut, a soft moan escaping her lips. I press my hips against hers, feeling the sensation of her warmth pressing down around my cock, and then begin to move.
"Void-" She manages to gasp out between thrusts. Whatever she wants to say, I cut her off by meeting her lips with my own. She meets me hungrily, tongue clashing with mine for supremacy as her hands clutch and scramble across my back.
I was no stranger to claiming virginities at this point, and Taylor's is another one to add to the list. Simultaneously the same as everyone else, yet also so very different. Emma had given up hers in a whirlwind of spite, triumph and glee towards Taylor, one decision in a long line of choices that traded away her pride, body and authority in order to hurt Taylor. In the end, Emma seemed all-too-happy with her position as little more than a sex-slave - only seeming to care about the fact that she'd dragged Taylor into the dirt with her. Sophia, a frenzy of violence and darker lust - a struggle for dominance that had been in the making for some time, climaxing at the reveal of our identities to each other. Madison, perhaps the most normal of the bunch - using me as a fling and a distraction, something to temporarily slake her own lusts and desires, not quite realising that her feelings were anything but an idle whim and that her lust for me wasn't something that would disappear after being satisfied.
Taylor? Taylor was none of those. If I had to describe it...
Taylor loved me. It wasn't like the others - where one aspect of me had lured them in, then my own actions and the influence of my power had secured them. She wanted me. Not what I represented, like Emma. Not my body, like Madison. Not for my strength and attitude like Sophia. It wasn't anything about the way I thrust into her again and again, taking her to heights of pleasure that she'd never experienced before. She just wanted me. Her partner. The one that made her feel special and lifted her out of the darkness - even if, admittedly, I had also been the one that left her floundering in it in the first place.
A bit of guilt flickers in me at that.
...I should make up with her at some point. In our civilian identities. Not just to help avoid the fallout of my identity getting out one day. But... this wasn't right. Looking into eyes so full of warmth and trust, and to keep fucking her knowing that I was a liar. That, if I came out with the truth right now - that expression would turn to tears and rage.
The old Greg wouldn't have approved. That Greg was blatantly inferior in a lot of ways, but in this - he would be right. Waiting until I'd mastered Taylor into submission, into accepting that she was in the wrong - waiting for an apology from her... that was an asshole move. Something born from wounded pride and annoyance at one of my girls calling me out on something. Frustration, that after so much effort, so many agonizing, traumatising deaths just to merely earn her friendship - that someone could just assume I had betrayed them and never cared in the slightest.
And part of me still felt that way. But what was the endgame? Since when did I need someone - someone I would have considered a friend - to come crawling on their knees asking for forgiveness after an argument? The old Greg got into arguments all the time, he could admit wrongdoing just to make peace and show up to school the next day with a bright smile as if nothing had ever happened. He could click into the next thread on PHO with one more infraction on the record and forget about the bloodbath of the last thread in seconds. Maybe that attitude came from being a natural social pariah and not being in a position of any real power... but maybe there was some strength of character there that I'd lost somewhere along the way.
Unmanly. Maybe that was the word. I wasn't filling my role. I'd accepted being a villain. I was a Master, I intended to take my place at the top of the world with a giant harem one day. I didn't mind that. It was just- I don't know. Just because I was trying to make a bunch of selfless, noble heroines into my sex-slaves doesn't make me the kind of person that would kick puppies in the street. I was vain and proud and selfish and all-too-happy to cheat, lie and manipulate people to get ahead in life. I was willing to do whatever I needed to do to earn that harem ending, ideally filling every sexual fantasy I could ever dream of along the way.
But, the best harem needs a harem-king that was worthy of it. A guy worth sharing. A guy worth fighting over. Something that went beyond brute strength or morals. A certain integrity, regardless of which side of the law I was on. That, even if I'd done terrible things to get the girls on my side - that I'd look after them after that fact. They were my girls, after all. And maybe for most girls I'd need to max them out before the label applied, but that wasn't true with Taylor. I hadn't minded bullying and leveraging my advantage over Squealer, she wasn't my girl yet. Didn't care that I was abusing Mush's loneliness to forge her into a fast, loyal friend on a similar path to Taylor herself. Not my girl yet. Taylor? My girl.
And somehow, despite the dozens of times that I'd died in the most agonising of ways fighting to make that fact true - that I'd earned it a thousand times over compared to some nervous schoolboy asking his crush out at school or some playboy flirting at a bar... I didn't feel like I deserved that right now.
It wasn't that I'd done anything significantly worse than elsewhere, but, maybe it was because what I had done didn't help me. It didn't serve a purpose - not even in establishing our roles as Master and Servant. It wasn't just another aspect of our relationship - like my regular humiliation and domination of Sophia. It was just spite and wounded pride, not something that would help bind her to my side. Not something that would help advance my position in the Bay. It was just vengeance. Like Skidmark, except this time it was difficult to argue that it was deserved.
"Void?" Taylor looks up at me, mask twitching in place as she seems to frown. "Are you okay?"
"I-" I belatedly realise that I've slowed, stopped, even. "I'm just thinking." A rare moment of honesty pushes me further. "I'm not sure if I deserve this."
"Deserve? What's that got to do with anything?" Taylor tilts her head. "We're not doing this because we hit our criminal quota for the day. I like you, I want to be with you. And, you like me? You want to be with me?"
"I do." That's true, at least.
"Then stop overthinking it." She purses her lips. "If we start talking about deserving, start thinking about what is right and wrong - we'll never get anywhere. I lied to my father to get here. Looked at him straight in the eyes, and promised that I wasn't meeting up with a boy - that I'd never had a boyfriend yet and didn't have any plans to get one." She shifts her hips, squeezing down on my shaft. "And I knew you had a girlfriend at school, someone who's never done anything wrong to me - and I seduced you away, uncaring about that fact. I'm fucking you right now, pretending that I'm someone special - but if you knew who I really was at school, I'm sure you'd pack up and leave right away." She looks up at me. "So don't start talking like that. Because if you don't deserve this, then I don't either."
"Don't talk about yourself like that. You've barely done anything wrong, and I wouldn't ditch you just because I found out your real name. I like you for who you are. Arachne - my partner." I actually mean that.
Taylor smiles. "You know, you're the only person in the world who can say something like that to me - and have me actually believe it. That's why I love you." She presses her legs into my back. "You're my hero, don't forget that."
That does not make me feel better. If anything, the uncomfortable feeling in my chest got a little bit sharper.
But this wasn't a time for a pity party for me. I force a smile onto my face. "Right. Got lost in my thoughts, wondering what I did to deserve such a beautiful girl. Where were we again?" Taylor looks embarrassed enough for me to call the distraction a success. At the insistent motions of her legs, I resume my thrusts.
Maybe I was working through some issues... but those issues weren't a reason to ruin her first time. I was never going to unmask right now. And, my relationship with Arachne? Everything leading up to this point? It was real. Earned. It was our other halves that had the issue. I'd settle things with Taylor. Within the week - give myself a few days of school to work away at her, find the right time. For my apology - and, perhaps, for my identity as well. And if that confession - that inevitable argument - caused issues between me and Arachne? Fine. I'd accept that outcome.
In the meantime, I was going to stand by my word. I'd thoroughly ruin her for other men. Because even if the worst-case scenario happened, and we had the biggest screaming match in all of history over what I had or hadn't done - I wasn't giving up on her. She was mine. I wasn't going to compromise on that. Not ever. I know it seems silly. That forgiveness is only a challenge win away anyway. But this feels right. This feels like the move that the Greg I want to be would make. Something done by Greg, not just a plan executed by an optimal user of my power.
I slam into Taylor again and again. I'd expected the interruption to kill our momentum, kill the mood somehow - but if anything, she's only hotter and wetter than she was before. And, in turn, I'm feeling more energetic than ever. Like a weight has suddenly lifted from my shoulders. It's stupid, I haven't done anything yet - it's all in my head, even just the plan to confess wrongdoing. But somehow, that's enough. I can look into the eyes of the girl who loves me and keep fucking her, assured that - however flawed I may be - I'm closer to being the man she believes in than I was just a few minutes prior. Not a hero. Never a hero. And I've accepted that only my power can change her mind over that part of me. But I'll be the kind of guy who returns that kind of look with the sincerity it deserves.
It doesn't take long for me to bring Taylor to orgasm, she'd already seemed close before I'd had my momentary crisis-of-faith - and after resuming there was never any doubt that she'd swiftly return to that point. Her walls tighten around me as she shudders in pleasure, her hands raking down my back as she arches into me - an expression of bliss on her face that warps in real time as she realises I have no intention of stopping. Not when I had to live up to her high expectations of the night.
She must see it on my face somehow, or have worked out some expression or tic that gives it away - because I'm only just building up to my own release when she starts clenching around me with a salacious, knowing look on her face.
I couldn't bring myself to slow or stop even if I wanted to. My release erupts inside her warm, inviting core - my cock twitching and pulsing as each blast of cum finds its way inside her.
"That's hotter than I imagined." She finally states, breaking away from the trend of mere moans that I'd become used to over the last minutes. "I can really feel it inside me-" She twists her thighs and hips, a vicegrip of pressure on my cock extracting every last drip as she executes the motion. "-but you know?"
"Hmm?" I raise an eyebrow at her.
"I want more." She clutches at my chest and rolls, a moment of struggle - including one brief moment where it seems we might both fall off the seat entirely - has our positions reversed. Me, lying on my back - and Taylor, straddling me victoriously as cum leaks down my shaft and her thighs.
"If you want more, it's yours to take." It's my turn to shift slightly, the small motion doing wonders at reminding Taylor that my cock was still erect - and still firmly lodged inside her.
Taylor doesn't need the encouragement. Her lips part unconsciously as she raises herself up, then slams herself down again - hilting herself in an instant. "Ah~"
For a moment, I'm almost concerned - forcing my entire length inside her in such a forceful motion wasn't something I had done in our lovemaking so far. I'd been stretching her. Preparing her. Letting her body accommodate me in its own time, knowing that we'd be fucking plenty more tonight.
That concern evaporates the moment I glimpse the depraved expression on Taylor's face. Perhaps it was a bit too much. Perhaps it was a bit too fast. But perhaps she didn't mind that either. And given control of things, it seemed she didn't mind taking a little bit more than she could easily manage. Didn't mind things being a bit rough. Because she wasn't taking a moment to catch her breath and adjust to the deepest insertion she'd had yet.
No, she was forging ahead. Thriving. Already lost in her own world of pleasure. Bouncing herself - fucking herself - using my cock as a dildo. And you know what? I was fine with that. More than fine. I didn't need to be on top every time, and seeing someone like Taylor so earnestly using my body for her pleasure - that was good for the ego. Good for the soul. And without a need to do much myself, I can let my hands roam freely. Thighs. Ass. Hips. I show my appreciation while Taylor takes me for all I'm worth.
It doesn't take long for her to climax again. Doesn't take long for her to start begging me for more, her voice hoarse. She wants a repeat performance. Another round. More. I oblige her.
The undersuit comes off, half-stained with juices as it is - it's tossed to the side in favour of letting our nude bodies meet each other freely. My cum is leaking from her slit freely at this point, every additional climax only serving to top her off once more. I opt to deposit the next one across her newly-exposed torso, partially painting her breasts and stomach with my seed.
"You're definitely some kind of monster, you know that?" Taylor murmurs, swiping a finger across her tits and depositing the dollop of gathered cum inside her mouth. "I've been through sex-ed. Boys aren't supposed to keep going like this."
"Always been able to keep blasting in the face of a hot enough girl." All you need is to get engrossed into a good enough eroge to understand how many times you can really bust in one day. "But, admittedly, something definitely happened to my libido after I got powers."
"What, so you pinched a power that lets you fuck like a maniac all the time?" She stretches her arms up in the air, then notices my gaze on her chest and wiggles enticingly. Nice. Not large, but tits were tits. "There was a power like that in the Bay?"
"I doubt a power like that exists." I hum. "And I'm not going to think about it too much either. Not when my lewd partner still isn't ready to tap out."
"I'm not lewd." She breaks eye contact almost immediately as I stare at her. "Not as lewd as you." She defends.
"I don't know about that." I argue. "I think I've just had a headstart. Hear me out on this one." She shifts nervously at that. "Fancy vehicle like this - this might be the only time we ever get to use it. It's hard for me to hide and work on a car, and I'm only really interested in the invisibility part - the maintenance for the whole thing might get to be a bit much."
"Yeah?" Taylor evidently doesn't see where I'm going with this.
"I'm just saying, what's the point fucking in an invisible car if you don't lean on the invisibility a bit?" I wink. "Press up against that window."
"There are pedestrians around!" She half-objects, but doesn't actually disobey - pressing her breasts and face up against the glass, while presenting her lower body to me with an almost taunting shimmy.
I'm not one to leave such taunts unfulfilled, and we've long moved past foreplay. She lets out a cute moan as I enter her once more. "Mhm. You're completely reliant on unknown Tinkertech to stop the city from seeing everything. From seeing Arachne, proud defender of the city, acting like a complete slut in the back of the car - and happily revealing that fact to anyone who glances in the right direction."
"They really could see - if it failed at the wrong moment. That's-" She presses harder against the glass. "-look, another driver. Do you think he would know who we are? Doing this, right in plain sight?" As expected, my pervert of a partner is certainly in the right frame of mind to see the appeal. I'm not sure if exhibitionism is quite the right term when actual invisibility is involved, but it's only more proof that Taylor - even missing three challenges - is just a complete pervert across the board. I think most girls wouldn't clench around my cock harder than ever before at the idea of getting caught in this situation. That's just you, Taylor - and you can hardly even blame my power, considering other girls have had more relationship boosts than you and are still less horny.
"And look there-" I keep powering into her as the car slowly drives by a loitering pack of teenagers. "-a bunch of delinquents. Probably a few petty crimes between them. I'm sure they've heard of Arachne. The big, bad terror of the Bay. Bane of criminals everywhere. What would they think if they could see you now? What about your fellow heroes? Miss Militia seemed so concerned about you, what would she think if she knew what you were really like?"
"Void~" Taylor lets out a plaintive cry. "I'm not a-" Her voice stills mid-sentence, as if refusing to utter a lie.
"You are. And that's something I love about you." I hold her tight as she shakes and shudders in the throes of her own orgasm. "This is just something we do from now on. We don't need to limit ourselves to quiet blowjobs at the start of patrols anymore. I'm going to be looking for every opportunity I can to use you as my personal cocksleeve. Whether Shadow Stalker is around or not. I hope you're looking forward to it."
Taylor slumps away from the window, affixing me with a complicated look. "You really are cruel." She attempts to look sorry for herself, a difficult task when she almost seems to glow with satisfaction. She slinks into the footwell, tongue darting out of her mouth as she places her head level with my cock.
"Shall I take that as a sign that you're done?" I smirk at her.
"I'm going to be sore all throughout the weekend." She grumbles. "I'll concede this time. But I'm not letting you walk out of here so easily with that smug expression. Once I'm done, you won't have any juice left in the tank for the entire weekend."
"I'd like to see you try that." I lean back and retrieve my phone as Taylor wraps her lips around my cock, simultaneously cleaning it and trying to bring me to completion all over again.
I make a great show of scrolling through PHO to 'discover' the news of the Merchants escape. "Hm. Got some bad news, do you want to hear it?"
"..." She frowns at nothing, then pops my dick out of her mouth like a lollipop. "Is it just news, or is it something we need to respond to today?"
"You could read it tomorrow, it's nothing we can do anything about right now." I acknowledge.
"Then, no. I've got bigger-" Her tongue lashes out at my cock. "-better, things to focus on."
Well. I wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I kept a lady from such a task.
My attention drifts as she continues to work her magic, roaming PHO and considering where exactly I was going to hide this new car of mine. I already knew where the remote piloting beacon and surveillance features connected to, I could rip those out - on both ends, with my ash clone still active from Squealer's mobile control centre. But that still left me with obvious Tinkertech that I really didn't want some random hoodlum stumbling onto, but I also didn't want it literally being on my lawn in case there was some Tinkertech issue or Armsmaster came by with some super-scanner or... anything. I could rent out a storage area pretty easily in the morning, but finding one right now would be difficult and I'd need to get to sleep first-
-I'd need to get to sleep first-
I linger on that thought for a moment, replaying it in my head. I check the time. It was late.
I wasn't tired. Not in the slightest. Obviously, the literal fucking-marathon was keeping the blood flowing - but...
I can't stop the feeling of dread. I investigate my mental list of powers. There it is. The newest. Night Watch. A toggle, which was a new one for me.
I toggle it off, and immediately feel a weight descend on me. My eyes flutter, a wave of lethargy hits- I toggle it again. Instantly refreshed.
Fucking. Scammed.
Her entire power is weapons. It's ENTIRELY weapons. She's the weapon-est of all Capes with weapons. There is no-one that fits that description better.
How. The. Hell. Did I seriously not have a weapon projection power right now. Maybe guns would be too much at this stage, I could acknowledge that. I would have accepted knives. Batons. Swords.
I did not accept no longer needing to sleep. What was I going to do with all of that time? All of my targets are asleep too!
I don't even want to be a Noctis Cape. This is a scam!
I suppose, I don't really have a choice now. With more time on my hands than I even know what to do with... I really am just going to have to work at this Tinkering thing until I get something out of it.
Fine. Fine! Hopefully, I get something so awesome and attention-grabbing that I can draw the Protectorate out once again.
Why? Because I want to see Miss Militia again. I'm holding her responsible for this travesty - this robbery. And she can either get ready to cough up a power worth talking about...
...or she can find a spot on her knees next to Taylor.
It will be good practice for whenever I get around to becoming her boss in the future. Maybe that's not soon.
But I can hold a grudge.