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Parahumans Series - WildbowVampire: The Masquerade
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Taylor Hebert | Skitter | WeaverLasombra Antediluvian (Vampire: The Masquerade)
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Canon-Typical ViolenceAlt-Power Taylor HebertCompetent Parahuman Response Team | PRT
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Published:2025-06-22Updated:2026-02-11Words:157,182Chapters:25/?Comments:650Kudos:1,401Bookmarks:538Hits:75,783
Abyssal Escalation
Zahariel_Scholar
Chapter 4: Conflict
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Lung was furious. He'd been enjoying himself, taking the pleasure that was his due as master of his domain, when he'd heard the sounds of fighting in the building. Gunshots were far from uncommon in this part of town, but this one had come from inside the building. And there were no circumstances he could think of in which a single gunshot inside the walls was acceptable.
When he'd come out of the room, he'd expected to find one of the wastrels making up most of the ABB's ranks looking at him in terror after discharging his weapon accidentally. He'd been looking forward to vent his rage at being interrupted by ripping such a fool limb from limb as an example for the rest, before incinerating the remains.
He had not expected to find an unknown cape who'd dared to intrude deep inside his territory, break into one of his buildings, and attack his minions. And he'd certainly not expected to be thrown out of the window with the same care one would show a piece of trash.
That was an insult his pride couldn't countenance. He was going to tear that shadow bastard to pieces, and remind everyone in the Bay what happened when you crossed Lung.
As Lung stood, the other cape suddenly appeared in front of him. With a mighty roar, Lung hurled fire at his foe, filling his field of view with a torrent of fire. There was no scream or sound of sizzling flesh, however, and as he frowned and started to advance to investigate, something smashed into the back of his skull with incredible strength.
Despite his reinforced state, Lung felt the bone crack under the strength of the blow. Pain lanced through his brain, stars swam in his vision, and he barely managed to bring his arms up in time to avoid smashing face-first into the molten pavement.
Underneath the burning rage that filled his thoughts, the gang leader was impressed. After so many years using his power, he had an instinctive grasp of his current level of ramping up at any given time, and the blow would have turned the head of an ordinary human into mist. Perhaps this cape would give him an actual challenge before he killed him and burned their corpse to ash as a reminder to the rest of the city of what he was capable of.
He scrambled to his feet and turned just in time to block another punch, catching it within his clawed left hand. He felt the bones in his arm crack at the impact before starting to heal and strengthen as his power responded to the threat, and the momentum combined with his precarious position was enough to throw him off-balance.
Before he could recover and bring his guard up, the shadowy fuck smashed the pommel of his cane into Lung's jaw with his free hand, and the Dragon of Kyushu tasted his own blood blood. He spat a mouthful of broken teeth under his mask, already feeling their replacement growing as his mouth changed into a reptilian maw. The rest of his body was being covered in scaled armor, and he was still growing, now towering over his enemy.
Yet still, he was the only one who'd gotten hit up to now, and the humiliation of it burned far hotter than the fading pain of his injuries.
"'ill 'oo !" he thundered as he swept his right hand at the bastard, still holding his fist in his left to keep him in place.
But before he could make contact, the black fucker vanished, Lung's grip tightening on empty air. Moving on instinct honed by many battles, Lung leapt forward just in time to avoid being hit on the head by another super-powered blow from behind.
His rage was growing along with his body. That shadow bastard dared to attack him from behind, not once, but twice ?! Oh, he would pay for that.
This time, his punch connected. It felt weird, like punching containment foam before it had fully hardened – a feeling Lung was familiar with from his clashes with the PRT over the years – but the impact was enough to send the living shadow flying back a few meters. He slammed his cane into the ground to stop his slide, carving a furrow into the pavement as he did so and ending up on his knees at the slide's end.
He stood up, slowly, with infuriating calm and poise, and started walking toward Lung, marking every step with his cane.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Taking advantage of the lull in the melee, Lung threw more fire, not just toward his enemy but in every direction. The other cape could clearly teleport, so he would fill the space with fire until he had nowhere left to run –
The shadowy cape erupted from the inferno, trails of black smoke following in his wake, and slammed into Lung's midsection like a truck, causing him to lose his balance and fall backward. He landed heavily, and the other cape crouched on him before delivering punch after punch, his cane gone at some point in the confusion of close-quarters melee. The first blow shattered Lung's mask to pieces; the second slammed his head into the molten pavement; the third shattered his jaw.
Even with his regeneration, Lung couldn't completely ignore repeated head trauma like this. It took him a moment for his mind to clear from each impact, but the bastard kept punching him, over and over again. It was a race now, to see whether his power would strengthen him beyond his adversary's ability to harm before he was knocked out.
Through the deluge of blows, Lung noticed that it wasn't hot anymore. In fact, it was freezing, far beyond what was normal for a January night on the East Coast. In between punches, he saw that the fire he'd unleashed was gone, smothered by an unnatural darkness that stretched out from behind the other cape to cover the entire street.
What the fuck ? Only Leviathan had been able to extinguish his flames before. For the first time since he'd swum away from the sinking island where he'd faced an Endbringer, Lung felt something like fear.
He blinked to clear his vision, just in time to see the would-be hero bringing his two hands together, holding his ridiculous cane upside-down – when had he gotten it back ?
From his position, Lung had a good view of the cape's faceless visage. Maybe it was the repeated head trauma, but he swore he could see things moving in the coiling black smoke – vast and terrible things, lurking in a place to which his opponent was but a gateway to. Great beasts, so much bigger and stronger than he could ever be, swimming in infinite darkness.
In that moment, the feeling of unease that had been brewing in Lung's heart since the start of the fight bloomed into full-fledged dread. He felt very, very small, for reasons he would never be willing or able to explain.
Then the fiend spoke, his words the scream of demons let out of Hell to drag the guilty to their judgement :
"STAY. DOWN."
The cane came down. There was pain, and then darkness, accompanied by a bitter sensation Kenta had done everything in his power to avoid ever since he'd escaped from the jails of the CUI :
Defeat.
Holy shit.
I couldn't believe it. I had done it. I'd won ! I'd fought Lung, one of the most powerful villains on the East Coast in a straight fight, and I'd won !
As I stood up from my enemy's unconscious body, I felt giddy with excitement. It was fortunate that none of my emotions filtered through to Lasombra, because him dancing a little jig next to Lung's unconscious form would have been weird.
It hadn't been easy, far from it. My instinctual fear of fear had turned out to be rooted in reality, as Lung's flames had burned at it like it was dry paper, forcing me to draw more shadowy … stuff from the Abyss to replace it, something which I knew I couldn't do forever. And the longer the fight lasted, the stronger Lung would get, and the more collateral damage he would cause. Rescuing a bunch of enslaved women wouldn't have meant much if it meant an entire city district was razed to the ground in the process.
So I'd gone all out, straight from the start. I'd forced myself not to use whatever Thinker ability helped me hold back to avoid killing people, and punched as hard as I could. Which, as it turned out, was very, very hard. Looking down at him, I was relieved to find that he was still breathing.
Not that I would have mourned him if he had died : if anyone deserved death, it was the sex-slaving, drug-trafficking crime lord. But I felt that fifteen years old was too young to be a killer. And it would probably make my relationship with the Protectorate even more tense than it already was, what with me having laughed in Armsmaster's face when I'd thought his offer to join had been a dream.
… I suddenly realized that between the ABB gang members and Lung, I was having to justify not killing to myself a lot tonight. That was worrying, but I'd deal with it later. Right now, I felt drained, exhausted in a way I didn't remember ever feeling before. Even if it didn't look like it thanks to the absence of cosmetic damage, Lung's flames had taken a chunk out of the shadow-stuff from which Lasombra was made.
Okay, I told myself. Fire bad. I would make sure to remember that going forward. If the ancient cavemen could manage it, then so could I.
When Lung had bathed the street in fire, I'd also figured out how to stretch out my shadowscape to smother the flames, all while punching him with every bit of strength I could muster.
Was this how it worked for every cape ? Learning new aspects of your power in the middle of a fight, instinctually knowing how to use them ? Given how the recruitment pitches for the Ward program insisted on the necessity of training in order to properly use parahuman abilities, I didn't think so (unless the pitches were lying, of course, which I found much more believable than I'd have a month ago). But I wasn't going to complain.
I was about to go looking for a way to contact the authorities when, with a pop of displaced air, a man wearing a crimson demon mask, with a bandolier of grenades around his chest, appeared next to me.
Oni Lee. The only other known cape part of the ABB. A known sociopath with the power to teleport, leaving behind short-lived clones of himself, which he had used to become a nightmarish suicide bomber. Not nearly as strong as Lung, but equally unconcerned with collateral damage, and I was already drained from my fight with his boss.
Fuck.
On instinct, I tried to reach for him, and to my surprise, the shadows stretched out into a long tendril that snarled around his leg – yet another ability I hadn't realized I possessed. Before I could react to this new development, however, Oni Lee had already teleported away, and the clone my shadow tentacle (what the fuck) had been wrapping itself around pulled two of the pins on his grenades, exploding in a burst of heat and light that made the shadows in the street recoil, however briefly.
Casting my perception back into the shadowscape, I sensed Oni Lee's presence behind me, and teleported Lasombra in turn, before he could throw more grenades at me. Slowly, he turned to look at me. His mask hid his expression completely, yet I still felt a sense of emptiness when I looked at him, an absence that hadn't been here when I'd faced Lung.
I wondered if it had anything to do with his use of his clones as suicide bombers. The clone had pulled the pins on the grenades, but Oni Lee obviously hadn't done the same, which meant that either he could control them remotely for the few seconds they kept existing, or the clones were self-aware enough to do it themselves – but what kind of man would be willing to spend his last few seconds of life killing himself to hurt his enemies, over and over and over again ?
It didn't matter, I decided. After tonight, Oni Lee wouldn't kill anyone else if I had anything to say about it.
I slammed my cane into the ground, and called upon the shadows once more. Having done it once by accident, I found that I could now do it more freely : black tendrils erupted from the ground and moved according to my will, forcing Oni Lee to teleport again and again, and his clones kept trying to detonate their grenades. After the first few detonations, I got the hang of wrapping my tentacles around their hands to stop them from pulling the pins, but that didn't stop the original from continuing to move around.
He could have escaped just as easily as I could have, but it seemed that, for all his faults, he was loyal to his employer, and didn't want to abandon Lung. He also couldn't go after Lasombra's main body, both because my reflexes were faster than the delay on his teleportation and because now that Lung was unconscious, his power had turned off, returning him to a normal man, just as vulnerable to a grenade's collateral damage as anyone else.
After less than a minute of this, the street was all but filled with writhing tentacles lashing out at the empty air, which thankfully didn't affect my supernatural perceptions in any way, but did seem to affect Oni Lee's, as his jumps became shorter and shorter.
He needs line of sight, I realized. He can only teleport somewhere he can see : that's why he's always on the rooftops.
Encouraged by that realization, I redoubled my efforts, until finally, I managed to catch the teleporting killer. The sickening sound of bones being pulverized echoed across the street as my shadows tightened around his arms and legs. He screamed in agony as I withdrew my grip, and fell, unable to remain standing with each of his legs' bones in several pieces. He could still teleport, but didn't : after all, there was nowhere he could go, even if he managed it through the pain.
Silence descended, broken only by the pained groans of the two parahumans at my feet and the sound of approaching sirens. Someone must have called the cops : the fight hadn't exactly been discreet.
In the windows of the brothel, I saw several women looking in my direction, peeking out between the wooden planks boarding them up. They flinched back as my face turned toward them, but didn't try to hide, which was good enough for me.
I could also hear panicked voices, as the remaining gang members I hadn't knocked out before stumbling into Lung fled. I considered going after them, but decided that keeping watch on the two unconscious villains was more important. Also, if I'd felt tired after fighting Lung, taking down Oni Lee had exhausted me even more. Maintaining my projection was becoming more and more difficult : my train of thought kept slipping away from me, and I had to force myself to remain focused, which felt very much like trying to stay awake despite being both tired and comfortable in bed.
"Hello, Lasombra," said someone nearby, whom I hadn't heard approaching.
I turned toward the voice, and found a man in a red suit with racing stripes meeting on his chest in a V-shape.
Brockton Bay's very own speedster had arrived. Good. Now, I needed to explain things to him, make sure that the women in the brothel would be taken care of, and not make a fool of myself in front of one of my childhood heroes – and all that before succumbing to exhaustion and losing my projection.
"VELOCITY."
Robin suppressed a shiver as the other cape spoke his hero name. Armsmaster had warned them that Lasombra's voice was disturbing, and anything which troubled the Protectorate leader wasn't to be underestimated, but it had still caught him by surprise. Even though Lasombra was faceless, the human instinct was to expect voices to come from the direction of the speaker, not from seemingly every shadow around them at the same time.
The speedster had rushed across the city as fast as he could once console had informed him that Lung was fighting. He'd expected to arrive to a desolate wasteland where he would use his speed to find people needing rescue, not … well, the street was still a desolate wasteland, with molten asphalt, a trench that ran for several meters, and damage consistent with the grenades Oni Lee was known to use.
But there were only two bodies laying on the ground, and neither of them were dead or dying that Robin could see. Furthermore, instead of the sight of whatever poor bastard had gotten on Lung's bad side (not that he had any other) burned to a crisp on the pavement, instead, both ABB's capes were laying on the ground at the feet of the new parahuman the Protectorate capes had received a briefing on a few days before.
It was difficult not to feel intimidated at the sight of the faceless man in a black suit that looked like it was cut from the night sky itself, casually resting on a cane as he towered over his defeated foes. But Robin was determined to stay professional.
"That's Lung and Oni Lee, right ?" he said, making a show of looking at the two. "Wow. You took them both down on your own ?"
"YES."
Robin suppressed a flinch. "Uh, any particular reason you went after them ? You knew they are very dangerous, right ?"
Lasombra turned and pointed his cane at the building with a broken window.
"INNOCENTS," he said. A few seconds later, once the echoes of his unnatural voice had stopped, he added : "RESCUE."
"Ah, I see," Robin replied nervously, fairly certain he knew what was inside the building. The ABB had a reputation for certain activities, after all. "You want us to handle taking care of the aftermath ?"
Lasombra nodded.
"Well, the Protectorate is always happy to help out a fellow hero, especially when it involves doing our job in the first place." He was not babbling, thank you very much. "You, uh, you are a hero, right ?"
Lasombra cocked his head to the side as if confused, before nodding.
"Oh, good," Robin sighed in relief. "Sorry, it's just that your look is … kinda intimidating, you know ?"
Again, Lasombra cocked his head to the side, as if not understanding Robin's point. He was almost sure the Changer (which Lasombra had to be, otherwise he'd have been outed by now) was mocking him, but decided not to mention it aloud.
There was another thing the hero needed to mention if he didn't want to deal with the Director's passive-aggressive ribbing for the next week, so he gathered his courage and asked :
"I know Armsmaster already made the offer, but are you sure you aren't interested in joining the Protectorate ? We could use someone with your skills in this city, and being alone is dangerous, especially in this town. You could do a lot more good with other people having your back."
Lasombra stared at him (or at least kept his head in his direction : it was hard to say for sure, what with the lack of visible eyes) for a long moment. Then he shook his head, and before the hero had time to say anything else, began to sink into the pool of shadows that had formed at his feet.
In the blink of an eye, he was gone. Briefly, Robin activated his power and did a quick check of the building, top to bottom – his power was great for reconnaissance. Within a couple of seconds, he was done and was back keeping watch on the two capes laying in the street. The ABB thugs would keep until help arrived, and Velocity wasn't qualified to help the traumatized women in the building who'd just been liberated from sexual slavery by Lasombra's intervention.
With the terrifying cape departed, people started to come out of the buildings. They kept their distance from the hero and the two unconscious villains, but Robin saw more than one mobile phone, and knew that by dawn, the pictures of him standing over the comatose forms of Lung and Oni Lee would be all over the Internet. Hopefully the truth of what had happened would accompany them, because after tonight, Velocity most definitely didn't want Lasombra to think he'd stolen his glory.
He was fast, sure, but Oni Lee was a teleporter, and clearly that hadn't helped him against Lasombra.
"Console, this is Velocity," he called out over the radio. "I've got Lung and Oni Lee here, unconscious, and a building full of ex-ABB sex slaves who need rescuing and ABB goons with various levels of non life-threatening injuries who need arresting."
"This is Armsmaster," the reply came at once. "Velocity, please confirm that Lung is out of action."
"Confirmed. He looks pretty beaten up, too, and it looks like … yes, Oni Lee's got all his limbs broken. I think Lasombra punched Lung out, and Oni Lee passed out from the pain."
"I have been working on a tranquillizer that should keep Lung asleep if injected while he isn't in his ramped-up state," said Armsmaster. "A bit earlier for field testing than I'd like, but it should do. Do you have eyes on Lasombra ?"
"Not anymore, I'm afraid. He bailed after I gave him the pitch about joining, same as he did with you."
"Unfortunate, but predictable," Director Piggot's voice cut into the discussion. "This night is still a great victory for us, or at least it will be once we've secured the two ABB parahumans. The BBPD has been informed : they and several ambulances are on their way to the scene."
"Velocity, hold position until I arrive," ordered Armsmaster. "I'm only a couple of minutes out, and Miss Militia is ten minutes behind me."
"Copy," replied Velocity.
It was hard to tell through the filter of the Protectorate leader's armor and the radio's signal interference, but Velocity knew Armsmaster well enough to hear the current of frustration underneath his words. He understood it : after years of fighting the gangs and only barely managing to maintain the status quo, having some newcomer take out the most powerful parahuman in the city was a blow to his pride as well. But honestly, at this point, he would take all the miracles he could get. God knew Brockton Bay, and Earth Bet in general, could use some.
He just hoped Lasombra wouldn't let his victory tonight go to his head. That was how far too many promising capes got killed. Lung, for all his power, had been a brute, apparently without any ambition beyond maintaining his petty kingdom in the Bay. The Empire, on the other hand, were far more vicious in their approach to unaligned capes.
He also hoped that Armsmaster would hurry up, because he didn't want to be on the scene if Lung woke up before that. Fortunately, it wasn't long before he began to hear the noise of a familiar bike approaching at a speed only permissible within city limits thanks to the Tinker-grade guidance systems which helped keep its pilot from crashing into anything he didn't want to (and even then, Robin had seen the paperwork required, and been glad that his power meant he didn't need to do it).
Notes:
AN : Not quite satisfied with that fight scene, but then, these have always been a weakness of my writing. Hopefully this story will give me more opportunities to practice.
Despite that, I'm still having a blast writing this story, praise the Muse. We have reached the end of the well-defined section of my outline for this story. From this point on, I have a direction and a series of stops along the way, but the details are very much up in the air. So, if you have suggestions for things you would like to see, now is the time to share them.
One important thing to note is that Taylor's interpretation of her abilities is wrong. She has no idea of just how powerful she is as the heir (or usurper, depending on your perspective) of the Lasombra Antediluvian. But she is interpreting what she remembers doing while unconscious through the lens of Parahuman powers (that bit was inspired by Path to Munchies, where Taylor gets a copy of Path to Victory, but due to circumstances, ends up believing it can only work when she uses it to get pastries - yes, I know, but it's a good story, check it out).
To shamelessly steal and butcher a metaphor from the Dresden Files, if Taylor's inherited power is a passenger jet, right now, she has figured out how to turn on the engines while staying on the landing strip in order to frighten away birds. It's not what the plane was made for, but it's something it can do.
As always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and look forward to your thoughts and comments.
Zahariel out.
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Entire Work ← Previous Chapter Next Chapter → Chapter Index Comments Share Download
Work Header
Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning:
No Archive Warnings Apply
Fandoms:
Parahumans Series - WildbowVampire: The Masquerade
Characters:
Taylor Hebert | Skitter | WeaverLasombra Antediluvian (Vampire: The Masquerade)
Additional Tags:
Canon-Typical ViolenceAlt-Power Taylor HebertCompetent Parahuman Response Team | PRT
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:2025-06-22Updated:2026-02-11Words:157,182Chapters:25/?Comments:650Kudos:1,401Bookmarks:538Hits:75,783
Abyssal Escalation
Zahariel_Scholar
Chapter 5: Reaction
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
As the sun rose over the Bay, Director Piggot looked at the assembled capes and officers in the room with her. Some of them had been dragged out of bed by emergency calls as the PRT prepared to respond to what was possibly the greatest opportunity that had landed on their laps since Piggot had arrived in Brockton Bay.
"You have all already been told what happened last night," she began without preamble, "but for those of you who're still waking up, the new cape known as Lasombra faced and defeated both Lung and Oni Lee last night.
"His Stranger ability, combined with the location of the fight, mean that we don't have any clear footage of what happened. According to the testimonies of the women rescued from the building, Lasombra just appeared inside, knocked an ABB thug about to … 'initiate' a newly kidnapped woman into her new life, and proceeded to go through the building punching everyone unconscious until he crossed paths with Lung."
She forced the anger she felt from talking about something like this down – this wasn't the time for it.
"Both ABB capes are on their way to the Birdcage," she continued. "We were lucky enough that Dragon had an available transport nearby which could be redirected to the Rig and pick them up. While Lung's healing factor means that he will have recovered from his injuries by the time Dragon drops him down the one-way elevator, we asked Panacea to heal Lee's broken limbs before loading him up in the transport, as otherwise we might as well just put a bullet in his head and call it a day."
New Wave's prodigy healer hadn't been happy about being called out of the hospital where she'd been working in the middle of the night (Piggot had made a note to see what that was about later : all parahumans were driven to use their powers, but Panacea needed sleep just like the rest of them mere mortals, and she was far too important to let her burn herself out) to heal a notorious murderer, but that wasn't anything unexpected. Truth be told, Piggot herself wouldn't have any issue with just killing Lee, but protocols and regulations had to be followed, and one of them was that the PRT didn't execute prisoners.
And there was no point sending people to the Birdcage if they were just going to die immediately upon arrival due to being unable to defend themselves from the other inmates. Personally, Piggot was of the opinion that the whole thing was pointless and Birdcaged villains should be given the mercy of a clean death instead of throwing them into an inescapable hole that cost an obscene amount of resources to upkeep (and was only possible in the first place because of Dragon's constant work on the facility, when the Tinker presumably had many other, better things to spend her time on). But that level of decision-making was well above her head.
"Needless to say, while this is great news, it has also dumped a lot of work on our shoulders, and I'll be relying on each and every one of you to deal with the situation in the coming days. To start with, is there anything the BBPD wants to tell us about the women who were rescued from that building ?" asked Piggot.
"They are in various states of trauma, obviously," replied Renick, who was their point of contact with Brockton Bay's chronically overworked, underfunded and outgunned police department. "The one who first saw Lasombra had been taken off the street only a few hours ago, and she'll need psychological help to deal with the events. As for the others, several of them were victims of human trafficking across state lines. The FBI has been called in to investigate, see if they can use the information to go up the chain and get at the rest of the trafficking ring."
Meaning that the E88's moles within the local police force wouldn't be able to interfere, and would be forced to do their job properly by the threat of the feds finding out if they didn't. Good.
"There have also already been several reported internal conflicts between members of the ABB," the Deputy Director continued. "The BBPD has deployed units across Lung's former territory to act on intelligence they acquired before last night, but were unable to use due to fear of Lung's reaction. They're asking for PRT support in case the Empire decides to take advantage of the situation."
Which they almost definitely would, like the opportunist scavengers they were.
"They'll get it," Piggot promised. "Speed is of the essence if we're to make the best of this situation, and with the threat of the E88 sending their own capes, we've got justification to intervene. New Wave has already contacted me to offer their support."
There was more at stake than arresting the ABB thugs now that they didn't have Lung's protection. The brothel Lasombra had liberated was unfortunately far from being the only one in the city, and they needed to act quick, before the remaining ABB members decided to cut their losses and kill their captives in order to silence them before running for the hills.
They discussed the practicalities of their response for another twenty minutes, then Piggot adjourned the meeting and let her people get to work, except for Armsmaster and Miss Militia, who stayed behind at her request. Once the doors were closed and the three of them were alone, the Director declared :
"I think it's clear that after the events of last night, we need to increase Lasombra's rating. If he can go toe-to-toe with Lung, then clearly, his Brute rating is higher than we thought."
"Yes, but by how much is a matter of debate," said Armsmaster. "Lung was taken down before he could reach the heights of size and strength he did when we all fought him together, to say nothing of his recorded maximum size."
Footage of the Endbringer fights was rare for obvious reasons – capes were too busy desperately trying to survive and drive the attacking monster off to think about recording videos – but as Director of the ENE branch of the PRT, Piggot was privy to the reports of the Sinking of Kyushu. At his Leviathan-fighting top, Lung had been classified as Brute 9, but – thankfully – he'd never reached those heights of power again. When fighting the entire Protectorate branch of the ENE, he'd been dangerously close to it, which was why the heroes had been forced to withdraw.
"So, Brute 6-7 ?" she suggested. The two capes nodded, and Piggot made a note on her tablet.
"Then there's his combat Thinker power," she continued. "Fighting Lung and Oni Lee in the middle of the city without any civilian casualty isn't something anyone could achieve with just brute strength."
"Also, Lung was well aware of his power's drawbacks," Miss Militia pointed out. "He knew how to account for them and buy himself enough time to grow. Yet Lasombra managed to defeat him before he could become unmanageable."
"Thinker 6, I think," said Armsmaster. "Especially with how Lasombra was able to take down Oni Lee despite his random teleportation."
"What do we classify his use of shadow tentacles as ?" asked Piggot. "Shaker or Blaster ?"
"Shaker, I think, at least until we have more data," said Armsmaster. "Judging by the traces of Oni Lee's grenade explosions, he didn't go far before Lasombra neutralized him. And with the speed at which we know Oni Lee is capable of teleporting, anything capable of catching up to him is best considered area-of-effect."
The lack of video footage made it difficult to properly evaluate Lasombra's capabilities. There were few eyewitnesses to the fight, and those who had seen it were reluctant to speak with authority figures.
"The effect he used to smother Lung's flames also indicate a Shaker power," added Miss Militia. "And he was able to use them to break Oni Lee's limbs, so I'd say Shaker 4 ?"
"Alright. Now for the big question," said Piggot, looking around at everyone in turn. "If we need to, how do we take him ?"
The mood in the room immediately went down, which was understandable. Nobody enjoyed talking about it, but it was part of their job. Lasombra might have acted like a hero so far, but capes had turned bad before. Even if it wasn't willingly, there was the possibility of blackmail, or of being Mastered by a villain. Even the capes of the Protectorate had a file written down somewhere describing how to take them down should it become necessary.
If nothing else, thinking about ways to counter various powers helped sharpen their skills for when they faced a new enemy cape.
"Twice now," Armsmaster began, "Lasombra has disappeared after a single intervention. His appearance last night lasted much longer than his first, but given that he took on Lung and won, I find it hard to believe that he would willingly limit himself to intervening in a single mugging on his first night out, unless he had no choice in the matter."
"You think his Changer form has a time limit ?" asked Miss Militia.
"It's only a theory," Armsmaster admitted. "But very few capes have as wide an array of powers as Lasombra has shown without some drawback or limitation. A time limit would make sense from that perspective. But even if that is the case, his Mover power makes capture difficult. Lung's fire seems to have been barely an inconvenience to him, given that he appeared completely unharmed when Velocity arrived on the scene."
"If Lasombra could take Lung's fire head-on, then anything that can harm him will be lethal by necessity," Miss Militia grimaced. "I don't know about you, Colin, but I don't feel comfortable bringing that kind of ordinance to bear."
"We'll only do so if it is absolutely required," Piggot insisted. "Lasombra has done a great service to this city by removing Lung and Oni Lee from the board, and even if he doesn't want to join the Protectorate, he has been willing to work with us. Armsmaster, please draft a proposal of the methods you think might work to subdue him in case he goes rogue."
She was really hoping it wouldn't happen, of course, but in the age of parahumans, there was no such thing as being too cautious.
"Yes, Director," the hero nodded. "May I share our data with Dragon ? I think her help would be invaluable in designing counter-measures."
"If you think that's necessary," Piggot agreed. Usually, sharing intel with someone outside the ENE would be frowned upon, but if you couldn't trust Dragon, then who could you trust ?
Topic : Lung & Oni Lee arrested – the end of the ABB ?
Bagrat (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
Posted On Jan 9th 2011 :
Well, folks, I never really thought I'd see the day, and yet, here we are.
Last night, Lung met with the Bay's newest cape, Lasombra (link here for his thread). Now, usually this would be where I tell you about another independent hero's career being tragically cut short … except, Lasombra won the fight, bringing the infamous supervillain down after a short but intense fight deep within ABB territory.
Details on how Lasombra ended up crossing paths with Lung are still blurry, but it seems Lasombra didn't approve of the ABB's … let's say 'forceful recruitment practices'. The two of them ended up fighting in front of one of the gang's brothels, doing quite a number on the poor street in the process (see here for images of the aftermath), but so far nobody seems to have been caught in the crossfire, which is certainly a pleasant surprise considering the kind of collateral damage that used to follow Lung's fights.
And then, when Oni Lee popped in to rescue his boss, Lasombra proceeded to break all four of the teleporting bomber's limbs before leaving him and Lung for the PRT to take, showing off several new abilities in the process (as a reminder, theorizing about a cape's power should be done on the cape's dedicated thread – this thread is solely to discuss last night's event).
With both of the ABB's capes taken out at the same time, the odds of them being rescued before being Birdcaged are very low. The BBPD are moving into the ABB's territory now that they don't have to worry about being turned into charcoal by the rage dragon, and at time of writing, things seem to be going well.
As for Lasombra ? He left soon after Velocity's arrival on the scene, and hasn't been seen since.
EDIT : wow, it didn't take long for the ABB to collapse without Lung. There have already been reports of firefights between gang members who used to belong to different groups before Lung forced them together. I guess it's true what they say about a rule by fear being built on sand.
Rightsector
Replied On Jan 9th 2011 :
Wow. That's some quick escalation for a new cape. Lung was … Lung, you know ? Going from punching a bunch of muggers to fighting the Dragon of Kyushu is quite the upgrade.
Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011 :
On the one hand, good God am I glad Lung is gone. On the other, I'm worried what it means for the city.
Letes
Replied On Jan 9th 2011 :
What's the problem ? Lasombra helped rescue a bunch of women from sexual slavery, and the police are going to be able to free a lot more now that Lung's out of the picture. I'm not in Brockton Bay, but how is this not an absolute win for the good guys ?
Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011 :
I'm not complaining about Lung going away or these poor women being rescued. I'm worried about what the Empire will do now that he is gone. For all his many, many, MANY crimes, nobody can deny that Lung's presence kept the Nazis from taking over the Bay's criminal underworld. Now, who's left to stop him ? The Merchants ? These morons couldn't stop a rat from stealing their coke.
Letes
Replied On Jan 9th 2011 :
Brocktonite03 I guess I can see where you're coming from. Hopefully the Protectorate will do something about it – and if they don't, then maybe Lasombra ? He dealt with a bunch of E88 thugs on his first known appearance, after all.
Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Jan 9th 2011 :
I sure hope so. Being free from the rage dragon is nice, but if it means the Nazis take over instead … Course, not doing anything and letting the status quo strangle the city wasn't helping either.
I frowned as I continued reading through the thread. It had many more pages : despite restricting his activities to Brockton Bay for years, Lung had been famous world-wide as the cape who had stood up to Leviathan during the sinking of Kyushu. There'd been a lot of people who'd hoped he would fight the Endbringers again, and a lot of speculation that the reason Alexandria hadn't come to Brockton Bay to toss him into the Birdcage was because of that hope.
Personally, I thought it more likely that the Protectorate had been leery of the potential for collateral damage such a confrontation would have entailed. After all, they had sent Lung to the Birdcage the moment they'd gotten their hands on him.
Some commenters were sceptical that a single, unknown cape had managed to defeat Lung and Oni Lee, and believed that the Protectorate had been involved somehow. But they were being shouted down by other posters, who pointed out that the organization had a long history of not sharing credit with independents when it could get away with it – which only started a brief flame war as debate over whether this was true and the Protectorate hoped to recruit Lasombra and didn't want to piss him off, or they were merely being honest and truthful, like heroes were supposed to be.
After a couple of pages, Tinmother had come down with the banhammer, forcing the worst offenders to spend a few hours cooling off and bringing the thread back on track. The survivors of the purge were all posting on the assumption that the announcement was truthful and Lasombra had been the one to defeat the two ABB capes.
It was somewhat amusing, as was the wild speculation on the nature of my power and what levels the PRT had assigned them. I'd gotten used to seeing drama on PHO, but it was the first time it was about me, or at least my projection's alter ego.
Still, my train of thought kept returning to that exchange between Letes and Brocktonite03.
They had a good point. Everyone Brocktonite who didn't deliberately try to ignore reality was aware of the delicate balance of powers between the gangs : it was the reason neither the Empire nor the ABB had destroyed the Merchants. Even though both gangs had the resources to do so, doing so would have weakened them and left them vulnerable to either the other or the Protectorate.
At least that was the case for the Empire : in Lung's case, I was almost sure he'd just been too lazy to do it, as he could probably have scorched the lairs of the Merchants in one lazy afternoon. Or maybe it was because as long as Skidmark's gang existed, the members of the ABB could lie to themselves that they weren't that bad – at least they weren't the Merchants.
Fear of Lung's retribution had kept the Empire out of the districts populated by the city's Asian minorities. They hadn't been safe by any means : most of the women who'd been rescued from the ABB's brothels since the removal of their leadership had been of Asian descent. Lung had preyed upon the very people he'd claimed to be protecting, and I didn't regret taking him down in the slightest.
But it was true that the removal of the ABB had left the Empire Eighty-Eight without their biggest opposition. Hopefully the Protectorate would be able to focus their efforts on them now that the threat of a giant rage dragon rampaging through the city was gone, but in the meantime, it was my responsibility to clean up the mess I had a hand in creating. Especially since the Empire was apparently using the story of Shadow Stalker's abusing another girl at her school (which had mysteriously leaked on several news channels with suspiciously sympathetic coverage of the E88's activities) to drum up support.
I absolutely refused to let the bastards use my Trigger Event to their advantage. Sure, I'd beaten up a few of their thugs on my first night out, before I'd realized it wasn't a dream, but on the whole, they probably had benefited from Lasombra's existence. And that was unacceptable.
I knew, vaguely, which parts of town were considered to be E88 territory. Presumably my power would guide my projection there at some point : the Abyss appeared to be connected to the real world where acts of evil were taking place, and there were few people who did more evil than a bunch of Neo-Nazis and white supremacists – but I repeated myself.
Even assuming finding the Empire wasn't an issue (which was a big assumption), I couldn't be certain that a fight would go to my advantage. Lung needed time to ramp up; presumably, Kaiser didn't have such limitations, and could go all-out right from the moment he realized Lasombra was in the room with him. The Empire also had a lot of capes, and a lot more manpower than the ABB. With the time limit on how long I could keep manifesting Lasombra, they could simply drown me in numbers (I immediately discarded the obvious solution, killing their unpowered thugs until the rest stopped being so willing to sacrifice themselves for the 'cause').
And even if I found and beat him, removing Kaiser from the equation wouldn't make the organization collapse : it had already lost its leader when Allfather died, and only grown stronger since. Removing the stain of Nazism from the city would be a lot more complicated than just punching the right supervillain unconscious and handing him over to the authorities.
Also, since unlike Lung and Oni Lee, Kaiser wasn't bound to the Birdcage, it stood to reason that the rest of the E88 would try to free him, as they'd had several times before when their capes had been captured by the Protectorate. With the advantage of numbers on their side, they were all but guaranteed to succeed, too – and since prison transports took place during the day, I wouldn't be able to send Lasombra to assist.
As it turned out, a fifteen years-old girl with a strong superpower couldn't single-handedly solve decades of crime in her home town with a snap of her fingers. Comic books had lied to me, surprise, surprise.
Not for the first time, I considered simply going to the Protectorate and revealing my identity. Having a team at my back could only help, to say nothing of the resources of the PRT. Rescue operations would be much easier with a team of heroes and a squad or two of PRT troopers to assist. And after years of fighting the Empire, they would have a lot more information available than what I could scrounge from the Internet.
However, the very thought of putting myself under the control of an organization that had counted the likes of Sophia Hess in its ranks made me shiver with revulsion. I knew, objectively speaking, that the rest of the Protectorate wasn't to blame for the actions of one psychopath and her enabler, and that the moment they'd learned about what was going on, the full force of the law had fallen on Sophia like a ton of bricks. But my emotions weren't so easily swayed, and there was a part of me that rejected the idea of putting me under anyone's authority ever again.
Besides, as a minor, the Protectorate would put me in the Wards if I decided to join. Teenage drama aside (which wasn't nearly as minor a factor on my decision as I'd like), I had read on the regulations, and I knew that I wouldn't be able to do anywhere near as much good as I'd already done as a Ward.
Also, I couldn't go out on patrols as myself, since my power required me to be unconscious, and while the image of Lasombra going out on the Boardwalk to sign autographs and to schools to do anti-drugs PSA was hilarious, it would also be a terrible waste of my potential. Especially since I had a time limit on how long I could maintain my projection : spending it on PR stuff would be a tremendous waste.
Communicating with the PRT and the Protectorate outside of meeting after Lasombra had punched someone unconscious could be useful, however. I went on PHO's main page and checked the requirements to get a verified cape account. Unfortunately, one of them was sending a video showing power usage, which wasn't something I could so, since according to Lasombra's thread, my projection messed with every recording device that had been pointed in his direction so far.
Maybe I could buy a mobile phone ? Except, since I didn't control where Lasombra showed up, having him pick it up before going out would be difficult. Which reminded me that I really needed to figure out what exactly the rules of my parahuman ability were : I had gotten obscenely lucky against Lung and Oni Lee. I couldn't keep throwing my projection into dangerous situations and rely on pulling powers out of nowhere to win.
Even just getting a better hang of my projection's manifestation would be a big step up. After Lasombra's disappearance, I'd gone straight into sleep without waking up until morning. I still felt weak, but it was difficult to tell whether that was because of the effort of using my power or because of the lingering damage of the Locker.
My stomach growled, reminding me that it was almost two in the afternoon and that, powers or not, my body needed food. Putting the computer on standby, I made my way downstairs. I clung to the railing and took care with every step, just in case (I hadn't had a fainting episode since leaving the hospital, but I'd been warned that was a possibility). The dissonance between the frailty of my human body and Lasombra's sheer strength was jarring, but I made it to the kitchen without issues.
Dad was back at work, so I was alone in the house. He'd left food in the fridge for me, along with the medicine I needed to take, and promised that he would be back by 6 PM (he'd told me with an embarrassed smile that his co-workers had all but threatened to throw him out of the office if he showed even a hint of doing overtime while I was still recovering).
I caught my reflection in the mirror as I re-heated my lunch, and was startled to find that I was smiling. How long had it been since I'd done that ?
I knew the answer, of course. Too long. But getting powers, even if what had been required to get them had been hellish, was still the best thing that had happened to me in a long, long time. In the last week, the problems which had dominated my life for years had disappeared, I'd been able to do genuine good for the city, and I was preparing to do more in the future.
There were challenges ahead, sure. But I felt like I could tackle them on, and that made all the difference.
In one timeline, Commander Thomas Calvert was working at his desk inside the PRT headquarters of Brockton Bay. In another, the supervillain Coil was sitting inside his underground base, going over a series of reports from his organization. Later tonight, barring extraordinary circumstances, he would collapse the timeline where he had remained in his base : he might be only a consultant for the PRT, but missing too many days would draw the kind of attention he didn't want, especially in the current situation.
After the capture of the two ABB capes, all hands were on deck at the PRT to ensure the other gangs of the Bay didn't take advantage of the chaos. Which was deliciously ironic, since that was precisely what Coil intended to do.
Since his arrival in the Bay, Coil had established himself as a shadow eminence in the city's balance of power. He'd used his contacts in the PRT, both legitimate and otherwise, to subtly play the various factions against one another. He'd kept either of the ABB and E88 from achieving dominance, while slowly eroding the PRT's image through a long series of failures, none of which were suspicious on their own. Most recently, his attempt to discredit the PRT by leaking the story of Shadow Stalker's schoolyard indiscretion had borne fruit, leading to him collapsing the timeline where he hadn't leaked that information to the Empire.
He'd been caught several times before, and things had gone badly for him very quickly each time. For all their mutual antipathy, Coil knew Piggot was competent at her job, and she had the likes of Armsmaster and Assault working with her. But the beauty of his power was that it allowed him to simply give up on whatever scheme had pushed his luck too far and try again with another approach, until he finally succeeded. Running his power uninterrupted for several days eventually strained him, but even with these limitations, it was still incredibly useful, and well worth the price he'd paid Cauldron for it.
That delicate balance had been thrown out the window by Lung's capture, of course. His plan to slowly whittle down the PRT and Protectorate's image by playing them against the various gangs was in tatters with the ABB was effectively defunct. Oh, there were still many members of the gang prowling the streets, but without Lung to unify them, they were certain to split up sooner or later – and if they didn't, the Empire would sweep in and crush them with their own capes.
Both Lung and Oni Lee were going to the Birdcage. They had substantial rap sheets, and Lung's refusal to attend any Endbringer fight since his showdown with Leviathan at Kyushu meant that he wouldn't get the leniency that might otherwise have been granted to him. Given their threat level, they had been airlifted from the Rig by Dragon-controlled aircraft and shipped off directly to the Birdcage, so even if Coil had wanted to arrange for their escape, he couldn't. The only way would be to orchestrate some kind of direct assault on the Protectorate headquarters to break into the cells, and that wasn't worth the risk.
But Coil was nothing if not willing to adapt to changing circumstances. Rather than bemoan the collapse of his long-term schemes, he focused instead on Lasombra.
The new cape, capable of defeating Lung in single combat, was a rogue element. For all his personal power, Lung had been predictable and relatively easy to manipulate using carefully crafted provocations (and when they didn't work, well, that was what Coil's power was for). But Lasombra wasn't. The cape had gone from rescuing some nobody from a mugging by three Empire thugs to decapitating the ABB in one stroke.
As a rule, independent heroes tended not to live long in Brockton Bay. If they didn't run afoul of Lung or Oni Lee, the E88 wasn't shy about using its influence to discover their civilian identities and go after them that way, killing the men and sending the women to Gesellschaft for use in their breeding program. The former was no longer a threat, but depending on the details of Lasombra's powers, the latter might very well still be. Coil knew that, even now, the leaders of the Empire would be working hard to get as much information on Lasombra as they could in case he went after them next.
Which Lasombra surely would. It was clear from the PRT report Calvert was reading that the cape had heroic delusions, given he'd risked a fight with Lung to rescue a bunch of nobodies from a ABB brothel. Maybe he'd go after the Merchants next, but somehow Coil didn't see Skidmark succeed where Lung had failed, meaning that the Empire would fall into his sights sooner or later. Coil's own activities were sufficiently obscure and low-profile that he shouldn't draw the attention of a would-be savior of Brockton Bay.
And realistically, there was only one way a confrontation between Lasombra and the Empire could end. No matter how powerful Lasombra was (which was still up for debate, as they only had the testimony of a handful of civilians and the analysis of the collateral damage to go on), all parahumans had their weaknesses – yes, even Coil. The Empire had enough capes available, with the ability to call more into the city from their contacts elsewhere in the United States and beyond, that they were sure to figure out a counter to Lasombra's abilities eventually.
But Coil had no desire to let such a potentially useful pawn fall through his fingers if he could help it. Once he took over the city, someone with Lasombra's raw power would be invaluable in maintaining order.
Having made his decision, the Coil who was in his base of operations picked up his phone and called one of the memorized numbers. It was picked up with gratifying speed.
"Yeah ?" said the voice of a young woman, tinted with just a hint of dread that delighted the supervillain.
"I have a job for you, Tattletale," he said with false gentleness that he knew she could see through without effort.
"What is it ?" the Thinker replied, not doing as good a job of hiding her anger at the nickname as she thought she was.
"You have heard of Lasombra ?" he asked.
"What ? The newest cape on the bloc, came out of nowhere and took down Lung and Oni Lee ? No idea who you're talking about, boss."
Coil smiled, allowing her that little bit of defiance, knowing that not reacting to it would only annoy her more.
"I need you to find out everything you can about him. Powers, motivations, goals, everything. You have two weeks."
"I'll get it done in one, boss," she boasted.
"I'm sure you will," replied Coil before hanging up on her.
After a couple more hours of not-so-honest work, Calvert clocked out and left the PRT headquarters. Once he was home, he pulled out one of the several burner phones he kept in his residence and put in the same number he'd called in earlier today in his other timeline.
"What's up, boss ?"
"Hello, pet. I have a job for you. I need you to find everything you can about Lasombra and send it to me. You have one week."
"That's not a lot of time, boss," she said warily.
"Ah, but you've already started, haven't you ? Your curiosity couldn't resist investigating such a mystery. I have complete confidence in your skills."
Coil smiled as he hung up before his pet could reply. Taunting Tattletale with information he'd gained through his power never ceased to amuse him, and it kept his pet on her toes. Though it might look unimpressive at first glance, her power would score very high on the Protectorate's Thinker scale if the organization was allowed to realize her true value.
He collapsed the timeline where he'd stayed at his base all day, and immediately split it again. In one timeline, he stayed home, while in the other, he made his way back to his base. He'd learned early in his career as a supervillain to put distance between his two selves – you never knew when random chance would strike. His power was useless if he was stuck in a situation with absolutely no way out, which was why he always made sure to keep a safe timeline he could retreat to if his active one got threatened.
Being cautious and playing the long game was how he would overcome all his adversaries in time, be it by destroying them or turning them into assets, and Lasombra would be no different.
Kenta woke.
He was bound in metal chains so thick he couldn't hope to break free, and judging by the vibrations of the floor, was in some kind of aircraft. His mind was clouded, but it didn't take a genius to realize what had happened.
He had lost, and the Protectorate was taking him to the Birdcage. Looking around – there was another collar around his neck, but he could still turn his head slightly – he saw Oni Lee laying in similar restraints, killing any hope of being rescued before it had time to take root.
The slight motion was enough to make him wince, as his body hurt all over. He wasn't used to such lingering pain : his injuries would usually have healed by now. Presumably the drugs being injected into his bloodstream through several IVs he could see included some kind of anti-regeneration cocktail along with the calming ones designed to keep him from activating his power and tearing himself free of his restraints.
"Kenta, cape name Lung," said a feminine voice through unseen speakers. "You are awake."
"I am," he replied. "You are the one called Dragon, correct ?"
It irked him that a mere Tinker had been deemed worthy of such a grand name, no matter how influential she might be. A real dragon wouldn't have bowed to the petty authorities of mortal men like she did, nor would they operate solely through remotely-controlled puppets of metal.
"Yes. You and your accomplice Oni Lee are currently en route to the Baumann Parahuman Containment Center. If you're expecting a rescue by the ABB, be aware that the gang has already collapsed into feuding factions since your defeat and capture."
"I see."
That wasn't surprising. Kenta had forged the ABB from the various Asian gangs that had existed in Brockton Bay before his arrival, using his own personal power to force them to ignore their existing hatreds and prejudices against each other.
As a half-Chinese, half-Japanese child, he had spent much of his childhood suffering from discrimination as a result. He'd taken great pleasure in using his power to force the rival gangs into a single, pan-Asian group, and watching as former rivals were forced to work together under threat of his wrath.
He chuckled.
"I find it difficult to imagine anything funny about your situation," said Dragon.
"Then you lack imagination, Tinker," replied Kenta. "After all these years of the Protectorate trying and failing to arrest me, it was a newcomer who defeated me."
"You speak of the cape known as Lasombra ?"
"Lasombra," Kenta repeated the name of his vanquisher, tasting it. "Is that what he's called ? Appropriate enough, I suppose."
Not that Kenta could throw stones, given that his own cape name more or less translated to 'Dragon'. But he wondered why he'd never heard of such a cape before finding him in his brothel. He found it hard to believe that someone who fought with such ferocity and skill would be newly come unto his power. Then again, Kenta had never been interested in what went on beyond the borders of his kingdom : it was all too possible Lasombra had come to Brockton Bay from afar for one reason or another.
"Is there any message you wish me to pass to your associates ?" asked Dragon. "The law demands that I give you this opportunity."
Kenta was silent for a time. He remembered the strength behind Lasombra's blows. He remembered the unnatural cold which had smothered his flames. Most of all, he remembered laying on the ground, and the shapes he had glimpsed in the depths of the other cape's faceless visage.
He forced himself not to tremble with remembered dread. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that the craft was full of sensory devices which would've picked up on it, and his pride kept him from showing weakness, even in defeat.
"Last I heard," he said, "Armsmaster was the Protectorate leader in Brockton Bay. Is that still the case ?"
"Yes," replied Dragon, and Kenta sensed a degree of edginess in her voice, even through the filter of the speakers. Right, the two Tinkers were supposed to be close, according to the gossip he'd overheard some of his servants exchange while in his earshot.
Well, that made it even better. Kenta wasn't above recognizing a certain degree of pettiness in his own character.
"Then I do have a message for him. We were enemies, but that is a form of association, isn't it ?" He forced himself to chuckle, refusing to let the unease his recollection had brought upon him show.
"That is within the law's parameters. Give me your message, and I'll pass it along," said Dragon.
Again, Kenta took his time considering his words. He didn't want to lie : in all likelihood, these would be his last words outside of the Birdcage. His honor demanded that they be truthful.
"Tell him this : Lasombra is not what he thinks he is."
There was a pause. Then Dragon asked : "That's all ?"
"Yes," replied Kenta, showing his teeth in a parody of a smile for the benefit of the hidden cameras through which the Tinker was watching. "That's all."
To her credit, Dragon didn't try to get more details out of him. Let them chew on it, and wonder what he meant. They would learn, in time, just how dangerous this new cape really was, and they would understand just how such a young cape had managed to defeat one such as he. If Birdcage inmates were allowed news from the rest of the world, Kenta reflected, then it would be interesting to see how things panned out from here.
But at the very least, Kenta would be safe from the fallout.
"Following a tense stand-off that lasted for the last week, the Cornell Bomber was successfully arrested today.
The mad Tinker had planted bombs all across campus and was threatening to detonate them should her demands not be met, taking the entire student population and faculty hostage.
With the support of a team of heroes dispatched from New York by Legend, the bomb tinker was successfully arrested …"
From The New York Times, January 10th, 2011.
Notes:
AN : This chapter was already almost done when I published the previous one, but halfway through putting the finishing touches, I realized that somehow, I seem to have made Taylor a more heroic, less self-centered version of Ciaphas Cain. Or, perhaps more accurately, I've given her the same kind of Misunderstanding Field he has. Huh. That wasn't planned, but maybe it will bring some much-needed levity to an otherwise rather serious story.
Lasombra's updated power ratings are based on my limited knowledge of the lore and a quick browsing of the wiki. I'm open to suggestions for corrections, as the characters know their business better than I do.
And yes, that last bit is about the cape who, in the original timeline, would become Bakuda and lead a campaign of terror across Brockton Bay. I didn't find a precise date for her attempt to take over Cornell University, but without Lung to bail her out and bring her with him to Brockton Bay, she ended up arrested. Funny how butterflies work.
You may now play the world's tiniest violin.
Also, yes, this story uses elements of fanon rather than strictly adhering to canon. I use the wiki as a source a lot, but I've read a lot more fanfic of Worm than canon material, so that was probably inevitable.
As always, I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter, and look forward to your thoughts and comments.
Zahariel out.
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