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Teen And Up Audiences

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Graphic Depictions Of Violence

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Exalted (Roleplaying Game)Parahumans Series - WildbowWorld of Darkness (Games)Mage: The AscensionWerewolf: The ApocalypseVampire: The MasqueradeChangeling: the DreamingDemon: The Fallen

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FriendshipAlternate UniverseSlice of LifeCrossoverBody HorrorMartial ArtsMind ControlDemonsCanon-Typical ViolenceReverse Isekai and TransmigrationAlternate Universe - World of Darkness (Games) SettingPost-Time Skip

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English

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Published:2025-08-22Updated:2025-09-01Words:101,443Chapters:12/?Comments:4Kudos:14Bookmarks:7Hits:1,573

Allegedly a Villain in Brockton Bay: a Tale From The Broken-Winged Crane

tyrant_raksha

Chapter 3: Probably Just An Illusion

Chapter Text

Vista stood next to Gallant and Glory Girl with her arms wrapped around herself. "I can't believe this is real." she said, gesturing off towards the sea full of madness.

Gallant gave her a reassuring hug. "I wish it wasn't. I can sense … it's like the whole ocean is feeling … well it's hard to put into words… reverence isn't right. Obligation? "

Glory Girl scoffed. "You heard Piggot, this is probably just a large-scale illusion. I will admit it was funny to see Armsmaster freeze up mid-staredown, but all this is overdoing it, don't you think?"

Vista shrugged.

Gallant shook his head.

The brute finally stood up. Sundown was nearly there, and the PRT staff and heroes once again became focused and professional. Almost hoping that the brute would try something, after wasting their time with illusions and swimming.

They watched him kneel down at the edge of the ocean's still glowing surface, and touch it. He spoke quietly enough that only Dragon's mics picked up his words. She thought it was the same language he'd used before the seas turned weird.

After his short interaction with the waters, he stood up, took a few steps back, and folded his arms. Dragon saw him staring expectantly out at the sea, but did not know why.

Three minutes later, the top of a bald woman's head popped out of the glowing sea water. She quickly slid up and out of the water to stand proudly nude in front of the brute, who stood with his arms crossed across his chest.

All could see the woman was both strange in appearance, as well as possessing a kind of universally appealing mien. The assembled might have assumed she was a Case 53, given that her flesh was lavender, her eyes dark and without pupils, and her neck seemed to have gill slits. However, her flesh was pierced in several places, forming elegant traceries of gleaming jewelry and chains of delicate brass links that looked both refined and painful. She wore some kind of exotic wide collar of golden metal that reminded one of stacked neck rings of ancient tribal cultures.

The brute spoke two words to her, and she gasped in shock with one hand partially over her mouth. As soon as she had time to react, she fell to her knees in front of him, kowtowing with her head upon the ground before his feet.

She fell silent. The brute asked her something while she was on the ground. It appeared that her muffled response satisfied him, and he bid her rise. When she did, she kept her head bowed, and eyes on the ground in front of her feet.

The brute grinned and pointed at the assembled PRT and Protectorate staff. The purple woman looked at them all, as though she had not noticed them. He pointed again. She stepped forward, carefully remaining off center, so as not to stand between the brute and the crowd.

Her voice was warm and sweet. "My Lord bids me act as his translator. Do you all speak English?"

Surprisingly, Piggot was the first to respond. "What do you mean 'My Lord'?" Her face was skeptical bordering on hostility.

"A thousand apologies My Lord," she bowed her head again in disgrace. "Allow me to introduce His Grace, Lintha Sennong Dictator Admiral-of-Admirals Grandfather Joyful Fluttering Locust Mariner, Green Sun Prince and Peer of the Thing Infernal, Sherden Caste and Favored by Metagaos and Cecelyne, Surgeon-General and Plaguemaster of the Reclamation, Grandmaster of the Green Sun Kingdom, Conqueror of An-Teng, He-Who-Waits Demiurgos of The Order of the Locust, and The Tide That Drowns Cities and Swallows Gods!"

"Bullshit." said Piggot. "This is just another dumb illusion." She walked up and waved her hand at the purple naked woman, moving to pass through her just like the firefly lights. Her hand stopped with a meaty slap of palm on plump titflesh.

"Madam, I have other employment now, please save that for another time!" purred the purple woman.

The brute spoke, moving to place himself between Piggot and the woman. The purple woman shuddered, though it was unclear if it was pleasure or fear. She translated. "My Lord demands to know why you strike his subordinate."

Piggot frowned, attempting to stare down the towering naked man. It worked no better for her than it did for Armsmaster. Though the man's eyes had been lax and indolent for most of the day, there was a hard edge to them that she remembered from staring down the beasts of Elisburg. It did nothing but harden her jaw.

The silence dragged on, Piggot eventually answered. "It is time for introductions. Though I remain unconvinced of the truth of his claims, I will concede that you ma'am are solid."

The purple woman translated her words. The brute frowned, and replied. It was translated, "And what would convince you, person who has not done the courtesy of her name?"

Piggot planted her hand on her hip. "I am Director Piggot, I run the Parahuman Response Team for the East-North-East Directorate. I do not appreciate your attitude, and I remain unconvinced of the veracity of your claims. The wide-scale illusion is mildly impressive, but that is all it is."

After receiving the translation he laughed. His reply translated, "I have not used even a single illusion yet. You doubt that I am real? Then let me spar with your proxy, Director. I do not care if you doubt my titles. They matter not in these lands anyway."

Piggot stroked her chin, "Spar with my proxy? Perhaps... "

Glory Girl slammed down from above, before dramatically rising from one knee. "Oh! Oh! Director, let me do it!"

Piggot looked over at her, then back at Armsmaster. He shrugged. The Director nodded. "Fine. Don't hold back." she turned and pointed. "Fight her to submission, and I'll believe you aren't just trying to trick us."

The naked brute walked over, and looked the costumed teenager over. His words were translated, "You pick a child for your Champion? Truly she is no older than the Great-Great Grandchildren of my Great-Great Grandchildren."

Glory Girl stomped, shaking the metal flooring, "And how old are you supposed to be, oh great conqueror? Also, I refuse to fight you without you putting on pants."

The translated response was, "I do not know how long has passed since I left my world, but I am well beyond 800. Tell me, do all people within this dimension possess powers as you and your companions?"

Vicky's jaw worked without speaking. "Dimension? You mean Earth Bet?"

The purple woman supplied an answer without translating. "We are both from Malfeas, An-Teng and Sennong Sept are in Creation. Neither of those are these 'Earths' as your worlds call themselves. The universe is unimaginably big."

"Still, get him to put on pants, or I won't fight him." replied Vicky with a shrug. She was hardly a cosmologist. "And, no, not everyone has parahuman powers."

Gallant was kind enough to supply a pair of pants. He had called in a favor from the Costume Department to get it delivered to the docks while they were waiting. They were little more than standard bluejeans. He was now mostly dressed, incorrectly wearing the jacket from Gallant's earlier attempt to cover him, like a cape.

Afterwards, the two intending to spar moved to an open area nearby. The words from his translator, "His Grace, Joyful Fluttering Locust Mariner, says that if you want him to take you seriously, young girl, that you must begin the fight hitting him as hard as you can; he will give you a free shot and do nothing to defend himself. If you cannot even draw blood, he will consider your part in the fight forfeit."

Glory Girl growled. Gallant walked up from behind her, and whispered. "Vicky, I don't think your aura works on him. At least, I haven't seen any reaction from him. Please be careful." He squeezed her hand, supportively.

"I keep getting grounded for being too rough. I'm looking forward to letting loose on someone who is literally asking for it, and putting that pompous guy on his ass."

Piggot had Dragon setup extra cameras, to make sure that any illusions would be detected by at least one of them. Armsmaster seemed to be quietly rooting for Glory Girl, though it was hard to tell.

The two squared off. The brute shouted, and his translator supplied, "My Lord commands you to hit him as hard as you can." He stood on both feet, unbraced, with his hands in the pockets of his pants, the picture of relaxed contempt.

Vicky hated being ordered around by her own parents and direct superiors, let alone some random smug asshole. The fact that he wasn't even taking her seriously galled her to no end. She flexed her knuckles, remembering the last time she'd punched a brute through a concrete wall and out the other side.

Harder. She needed more momentum. She had to make a point.

Glory Girl flew up into the air, leaping up to rocket skyward, then flipping acrobatically to shoot away from the impassively standing brute. The PRT staff looked on in confusion, but Gallant covered his mouth, recalling the last time Glory Girl had done this to an armored tank. Needless to say she was radiating indignant fury that he didn't even need his powers to see.

Harder. She needed more speed.

She flew up at an angle, before twisting sharply to dive at a sharp intercept trajectory with the knuckles of her right fist aimed directly at the brute's stupid cocky grin.

{{Att Pool: (aug)Dex 5 +(aug)Brawl 5 +1 Spec(Punching) +3 Aim +3 Stunt = 14d10; Author Rolls: 11 successes. Target permits attack, DV's inapplicable. Damage Pool: (aug)Str10+Weapon12B(O 4) + Carry Over Accuracy dice 11 = 33B; Target Natural Bashing Hardness: 14 (33=bypassed); Target Natural Bashing Soak: 14; Net: 19B; Author Rolls Final Damage: 12B HL; Target HLs: 70 total; 7 Base HL (-0/-0/ -1/-1/ -2/-2/ -4/ INCAP) + 7xHardened Devil Body (7x(-2/-2/-2/ -4)=28 HL) + 7xDeath Is For The Weak (7x(INCAP/ INCAP/ INCAP/ INCAP/ INCAP)=35 Incap HL's; Current Wound Penalty: -2; Target activates By Pain Reforged with damage}}

Glory Girl's force-field clad knuckles impacted the smug grin with enough force that the metal deck plating of the dock dented underfoot. True to his word, the brute did not defend himself, no dodging or parrying, but his body did flex enough to direct the momentum that would have sent him flying into the water into the deck plates instead.

His nose and lips split from the blow, bleeding first green sizzling fluid, followed moments later by glowing molten brass that quickly cooled into solid armored plugs for the holes in his damaged face.

The brute looked up at her after she came to a halt just in front of his face, and wiped a smudge of cooling green blood from his split lip. He belly laughed and bellowed something that the purple woman did not translate.

He stood before her and inhaled before a blue-green glowing disc briefly appeared floating in front of his forehead. He opened his eyes and looked at her in a way that was remarkably different from before, seemingly searching strange places on her body. Staring at her hands and stomach, among other places.

He walked around her briefly, speaking. The translator spoke, "As one of the foremost occult experts of Malfeas, it is within my powers to know and recall flavors of all of men and beasts. I know your blood now, 'Parahuman', to be of an accord with the God-Blooded or Demon-Blooded, though your exact nature is obscure. Your flesh is not where your strength lies. Fields of force are your armor and your weapon and your wings; even your aura is of a kind. Yet they are not the absolute touch of She Who Lives In Her Name." The purple woman shuddered as she translated the rest, this time the fear was unmistakable. "Nor is your aura anything compared to the oppression of Cecelyne's grinding law. You are weak, and ignorant. I will forgive this. You will lose knowing that I will not have used even the barest fraction of my might. I played harder with my children."

Glory Girl looked beyond mad.

Armsmaster called out. "Wait, did he just imply he can detect powers?"

Piggot shook her head. "Don't believe anything he says, all he did was take a punch so far. Psych-out tactics are hardly anything new. It's also quite possible that translator is helping him. She seemed to know English well enough to imply that she might know famous heroes too."

The brute continued through his translator. "We shall start fighting now." He said before moving to the opposite side of the cleared area, and performing a ceremonial (Bao Quan) salute with a nod and his left hand covering his right fist.

Glory Girl ignored his pleasantry, and immediately channeled her rage to make up for the lack of momentum from flying, bracing her feet against the deckplate as she shoved off, crumpling the inch-thick steel.

{{Att Pool: (aug)Dex 5 +(aug)Brawl 5 +1 Spec(Punching) +3 Stunt +5(Channels Valor) = 19d10; Author Rolls: 13 successes. Target Parries, Current Unarmed Parry DV 10. Net Accuracy Successes = 13-10 = 3; Damage Pool: (aug)Str10+Weapon12B(O 4) + Carry Over Accuracy dice 3 = 25B; Target Natural Bashing Hardness: 14 (25=bypassed); Target Natural Bashing Soak: 14 + (Armored With Suffering for -2@ESS7=)14=28 B Soak; Net: 0B + Overwhelming 4, but Basalt Flesh Withering sets min damage to 0, so Net=0B no min; Target HLs: 70 total; 7 Base HL (-0/-0/ -1/-1/ -2/-2/ -4/ INCAP) + 7xHardened Devil Body (7x(-2/-2/-2/ -4)=28 HL) + 7xDeath Is For The Weak (7x(INCAP/ INCAP/ INCAP/ INCAP/ INCAP)=35 Incap HL's; Current Wound Penalty: -2 (0 With By Pain Reforged); Target Activates Laughing Wounds Form for 5m}}

The brute barely moved, more like transitioning from standing into a braced headbutt against Glory Girls force-field clad fist. Her blow's energy was redirected into a glancing blow against his newly brass-coated face. It still would have killed a lesser man, but instead, made his right foot punch through the deck plate. He quickly extracted his foot, and began to laugh again. It was different somehow, a kind of frenetic madness laced behind it.

Only the neomah knew enough to brace herself in terror, ready to flee. Everyone else seemed to feel some instinctual unease, suddenly going silent as the birds in a forest with the passing of a predator. For the neomah however, it was a whole world of difference between abstractly knowing his titles, and actually seeing the Grandmaster invoke the Laughing Wounds Form mere meters from her. Sadists were unpredictable at the best of times, let alone when their blood got up. She only watched one tear the still beating heart from an opponent's chest once to keep her distance.

Glory Girl spun on her heel, bringing a diagonal kick to the side of the man's knee intended to snap it like a twig.

{{Att Pool: (aug)Dex 5 +(aug)Brawl 5 -1(Fierce Blow) = 9d10; Author Rolls: 5 successes. Target Parries, Current Unarmed Parry DV 10. Net Accuracy Successes = 5-10 = -5; Parried. Target uses Full Defense}}

Her heel was caught by the man's bare hand, and shoved slightly downward to miss him and land with such vigor that she continued through the deck plating and almost ran face-first into her opponent's chest. He stepped back and drew in a deep breath, before opening his stance in a way that invited another strike.

She obliged him, venting her frustration not just at him, but at all of those who never took her seriously as a hero. Glory Girl was not just an Alexandria clone, and she was not just another Ward in desperate need of adult supervision. She aimed her elbow right at his open chest.

{{Att Pool: (aug)Dex 5 +(aug)Brawl 5 +1 Spec(Punching) +3 Stunt +5(Channels Valor) = 19d10; Author Rolls: 14 successes. Target Parries, Current Unarmed Parry DV 10. Net Accuracy Successes = 13-10 = 4; Damage Pool: (aug)Str10+Weapon12B(O 4) + Carry Over Accuracy dice 4 = 26B; Target Natural Bashing Hardness: 14 (26=bypassed); Target Natural Bashing Soak: 14 + (Armored With Suffering for -2@ESS7=)14 =28 B Soak; Net: 0B + Overwhelming 4, but Basalt Flesh Withering sets min damage to 0, so Net=0B no min; Target uses full action to attack.}}

She might as well be punching a wall for all the damage her elbow inflicted. "God Dammit! You insufferable asshole!". Her fists beat against his side in frustration.

{{Activates Kiss of The Whip; Att Pool: Wits 7 + Occult 7 + 1(acc) = 15d10; Author Rolls 8 successes. Target activates Perfect Defense, cooldown until DV's refresh; Miss.}}

His hands shot out into a viscous hook to her exposed back, clearly intending to strike the sensitive kidneys. The blow stopped with a white glow just a hair's breadth from her skin. When it proved fruitless, the brute twisted his hands back and spoke sharply in Old Realm at her. The translator supplied from the sidelines, as a short shout. "His Grace said 'You cannot enjoy my gentle touch through your forcefield. What a shame!'"

Glory Girl grit her teeth. Imagining those green hands on her person just made her angry. She could work with anger. She flew at him, using her power to turn the simple jump into a short rocket thrust into his side.

{{Att Pool: (aug)Dex 5 +(aug)Brawl 5 +1 Spec(Punching) +3 Stunt +5(Channels Valor) = 19d10; Author Rolls: 6 successes. Target Parries, Current Unarmed Parry DV 10. Net Accuracy Successes = 6-10 = -4; Miss.}}

He swatted her into the deck plates, and her boots caught and sent her careening off into the crowd. She quickly stood up, growling as her aura bore down upon the unfortunate PRT and Wards nearby, making them either quail at her might, or start rooting for her. Her opponent's reaction was strange, giving her hope that it was working against him, before he shook his head like he was trying to get ringing out of his ears.

The green brute almost immediately followed behind her, jumping after her arc, giving just long enough of a delay for the growl and aura to take effect, before his feet came in, aiming at the outside of her knee joints, designed to cripple her.

{{Kiss of The Whip + Groveling Penitence Prana; Att Pool: Wits 7 + Occult 7 + 3 Spec(Sadistic) + 1(acc) +7(BRF) = 25d10; Author Rolls: 13 successes. Target activates Perfect Defense, cooldown until DV's refresh; Miss.}}

He grunted, half cursing. The translation came out, "I see your forcefield is a perfect defense. No matter, they all have their flaws!"

Glory Girl knew that she was running low on her reserves of pure anger. She had maybe two more really good ones left in her. She needed to fight dirty if she wanted any hope of winning. In her fieldwork, she'd learned that her forcefields normally hit things bluntly, but if she made an effort to force her striking surface to narrow, it could pierce an engine block without throwing the car. There were two ways she knew of, both based on Karate techniques: either with the side of her palm, in a Knife-hand Strike, or with her fingertips in a Spearfinger Strike.

She aimed a vicious Spearfinger Strike at the flesh of his throat.

{{Att Pool: (aug)Dex 5 +(aug)Brawl 5 +1 Spec(Punching) +3 Stunt +5(Channels Valor) = 19d10; Author Rolls: 8 successes. Target Parries, Current Unarmed Parry DV 10. Net Accuracy Successes = 8-10 = -2; Miss. }}

Her fingers shot out, and the brute quickly grabbed her fingers with both hands. The force from her strike drove him three meters backwards, firmly in the middle of the PRT and Protectorate onlookers. Only a few moved, the rest were either too taken by Glory Girl's Aura, or were loath to give up their ringside seats.

The brute stuck out his wet tongue and moved to lick her face. She thanked her good fortune that her forcefield kept him from making disgusting contact with her. Her growl returned, and she scowled.

{{Mariner uses All-Encompassing Sorcerer's sight analysis option from Palate Without Limit, and enhances the roll with the 2nd Metagaos Excellency: 7 Awareness + 7 Perception = 17d10; Author Rolls: (8 Successes + 7 successes (2ndEx) + 2 succ (Keen (Sense) Discipline))*2(Unsurpassed (Sense) Discipline)=34 Successes. Required Diff:8. Net Degree of Success: 26. Perfect, immediate understanding of the flavor.}}

The brute announced something, after licking his lips contemplatively. The purple translator muttered her translation, keeping just barely back and out of the action, but within a single step of the fight. "Yours is… a reflex? You don't control it, not really. Your fear does. It flickers and dies in a vigorous flash, and then rests. But, for how long? Its tastes alternate briefly. That is how long..."

Glory Girl did not want to give him the opportunity to guess what her weakness was. The mere thought of it made her afraid and furious. She bounced off the thick deck plate like a trampoline, and flew up as high as she thought she dared to maintain her aim from, and turned her Spear-fingers into a more literal movement. She plummeted like a guided missile from the sky, applying her flight powers to drive herself into the earth.

{{Att Pool: (aug)Dex 5 +(aug)Brawl 5 +1 Spec(Punching) +3 Stunt +5(Channels Valor) + 3 Aim = 21d10; Author Rolls: 11 successes + 3 succ Stunt bonus. Target Parries, Current Unarmed Parry DV 10. Net Accuracy Successes = 14-10 = 4; Damage Pool: (aug)Str10+Weapon12L(P+O 4) + Carry Over Accuracy dice 4 = 26L; Target Natural Bashing Hardness: 14 (33=bypassed); Target Natural Lethal Soak: 14 + (Armored With Suffering for -2@ESS7=)14 =28 L Soak; Net: 0B + Overwhelming 4, but Basalt Flesh Withering sets min damage to 0, so Net=0B no min; Target uses Counterattack action: Hand Biting Retaliation; Att Pool: Wits7+Occult7+ 3 Spec(Biting) + 1 Bite = 20d10; Author Rolls: 12 Successes. Target activates Perfect Defense, cooldown until DV's refresh; Miss.}}

Though she plummeted towards him like a white-clad javelin flying with sufficient force to pin even an elephant to the ground, his jaws snapped shut around her fingertips like a bear trap. Her forcefield cloaked her in a defensive shell against losing her hands to his teeth. She was halted with such suddenness that caused Gallant to scream out, trying to desperately see if she was intact. Glory Girl was shocked at the inhuman strength.

A wild look passed over the brutes eyes, as he licked his lips. His gaze, that of the wolf that just saw the fleeing deer trip and fall. He moved with inhuman grace and speed, as the glowing disc upon his forehead flared to blazing life again, and the area around the brute was lit up almost like a bright bonfire of the same eldritch luminescence as the seas around them. He ducked and wove among the crowd, making his path unpredictable.

{{Activates 2nd Metagaos Excellency, Hunger Drive Embrace + And Then He Stole The Air + Rapture In Chains; Att Pool: Wits7+Occult7+ 3 Spec(Grapple) + 1 Hand + 3 Stunt = 25d10; Author Rolls:15 + 7 Succ (2nd Ex) = 22 succ - 10 (GG aug PDV): 12 successes. Perfect Defense on cooldown, provides 15B/15L armor soak + 5B/3L natural soak and 15B/15L Hardness instead; Grapple Established; Damage Pool (Crush): 7Int+ 22 Carry Over (Piercing crush ignores half armor; O 3; Bashing) + 7(LWF), Net 30B; Author Rolls: 17B HL Final Damage; GG has 15HL: Filled all but Incap with Bashing, wraps around to fill the top again with Lethal.}}

The Brute's hand slid beneath and around Glory Girl's attempts at holding him back, and grabbed her around the throat in an iron grip that glowed with the strange light of his aura. For her, his touch was like being drowned in boiling water, agonizing and it immediately knocked the air from her lungs. She could not even bring herself to attempt to escape, all too focused on gasping for breath that could not possibly come, or was she trying to reverse the hold? Her intentions hardly made a difference. By the time she realized she was trapped, she felt her clavicle snap under the pressure of resisting. She started to see a red haze that threatened to fill her vision.

The other snapped, like wet wood.

Not a sound escaped her throat.

Blood dribbled down her chin from her nose and mouth.

Her eyes bulged in her head and bled from burst blood vessels.

She passed out, trying to scream for help, pathetically.

There was a scream from behind the brute's back. Gallant charged forward, hurling a focused concussive blast laced with his flash of anger at the brute's exposed back. "Let her go Brute!" He rushed forward behind his blast, and tried to pull the green hands from Glory Girl's throat.

Vista came from the other direction, and punched the green man in his pierced face. "It's over! Let Vicky go!" Her fist may as well have hit the deck plating, for all the good it did.

There was a simultaneous sound of guns being drawn and cocked. With just a nod from Director Piggot, there were dozens of firearms leveled at the Brute.

Armsmaster had a backup halberd already drawn, which crackled with electric power.

Dragon opened a side port on her suit's hip, and withdrew a small handgun whose barrel hummed with energy.

Into the middle of the fray, the purple translator threw herself--screaming--at her green brute master in that strange tongue they shared.

He finally blinked and looked up at her. The look of predatory hunger in his eyes softened.

Vista punched him in the head again, and he released Glory Girl to Gallant's grip. He turned to look at Vista, and stood up, towering over her by nearly a meter; once again nude amid his damaged and torn clothing. He looked her in the eyes, and asked her a question. The translation soon followed. "I did not know this was to be a best of three. Are you the next child Proxy for the Director?"

Vista was shaking on the inside, but kept her place, daring him to continue the fight.

"That is quite enough Brute." said Piggot. "You have proven that you can brutally choke a teenage girl. You should be proud of yourself."

After hearing the translation from the bald woman, he turned to the Director, walking over to her in a way that was intimidating without actually being actively aggressive. What he said translated as, "I am pleased at my restraint, as you all should be. I earned every title I have; I started far weaker than any of these 'Parahumans', even more so than yourself Director. Now, do cheer up. Your proxy is alive, she will surely heal in a few moments."

Piggot scowled. "Unless a Parahuman specifically has super-healing, they don't heal from snapped bones in minutes."

The purple woman relayed this to the green brute. The tone of his reply and posture of his shoulders implied a confused question. His translator shook her head, and repeated herself. She turned to the crowd and perhaps made an excuse. "This servant has informed her Lord that healing as Exalts and Essense-users do is uncommon on Earth Bet. His Grace, in his capacity as Surgeon-General has offered to repair his sparring partner."

Gallant interposed himself between the brute and Glory Girl.

The PRT staff muttered, "That brute can heal?".

Dragon looked at him, and then elbowed Armsmaster. He nodded, and spoke, "Absolutely not. We cannot trust you, as an unknown, to tend to her. We will see to her needs."

Gallant whispered into Glory Girl's ear, "Don't worry Vicky, I'll call Amy, and you'll be right as rain." He hugged her like she would break if he held on too tight.

Through his translator, the brute spoke. "Wise choice. What now, Director?"

Piggot shuffled up to just in front of him, poking him in the chest. "Now, we decide whether to let you into the country or not."

He looked down at Piggot, grinning. Whatever he said made his purple-skinned translator laugh, and then look askance at him. They spoke back and forth until he nodded and waved his hand permissively. "My original occupation was a merchant. Allow us to negotiate a contract. I have been informed that I may request legal counsel. I can pay in trade with fish, shellfish, or similar things."

Piggot raised an eyebrow. "A merchant?"

Dragon could not help herself. "Fish?"

Armsmaster frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "Impossible. What kind of lawyer would accept an alien dictator as a client?"

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Chapter 786 - 3