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Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning:
Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Category:
Gen
Fandom:
Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Relationship:
Alexander/City Building
Characters:
Rebecca Costa-Brown | AlexandriaDragon (Parahumans)Director James TaggEmily PiggotColin Wallis | Armsmaster | DefiantBastion (Parahumans)
Additional Tags:
Self-InsertCYOAEndbringerA man finds his hobbyThe rest of the world is terrifiedCausing major wars by accidentTeehee~Misunderstandings
Language:
English
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Published:2025-02-16Updated:2026-02-25Words:229,706Chapters:83/?Comments:559Kudos:1,458Bookmarks:363Hits:86,824
(End)Bringing You A New Home! (Endbringer SI)
10moorem
Chapter 67: Chapter 67: Carcosa
Summary:
Alexander gains a level in genre savvy, proceeds to continue building things worthy of a final boss.
Chapter Text
Chapter 67: Carcosa
-Alexander POV-
A blinking light in the corner of my eye rouses me from the task of methodically laying down brickwork. With a thought the nanites attached to my eye show me the cause for the interruption.
Oh! My drone had arrived in Jinzhou.
The military build-up around the smooth depression that ha once housed the city of Jinzhou made me frown slightly as I took it all in. Much like me, they seemed intent on studying the breach. Monitoring equipment surrounded the emptiness, set so fine they could probably detect how many hairs a fly had if it buzzed past them.
All useless, of course. As was the Tinkertech they were using, their readouts spewing nonsense and corrupted data every time they tried. The Shards tended to like their privacy, after all.
As for how my efforts were going…
My lips spread in a slow, pleased, smile. The sensors were definitely cutting through the interference, the specialty algorithms tuned on what to ignore and what to focus in on. Scion's countermeasures against surveillance still recognisable to what ShardPunk had taught me.
Which was sad, in a way. It was more efficient, and had far more energy directing the effects than even I had thought, but at it's core it was still the same methods they had used on that grey world of theirs. They had iterated, but not truly advanced.
The number of truly novel effects added on were tiny, and easy to mitigate.
It was a flaw of the Entities method of growth. Just because you outsourced your creativity to others didn't mean you knew the best ways to apply the new methods you had gained. That would require allowing those with creativity to play around with critical systems, which the Entities would never do.
Oh well, I shrugged. Makes it easier for me.
The scans continued unabated, the drone piggybacking on the magic now present in Shardspace to begin scrying. What I found was both disheartening and unsurprising.
"Christ, there's a lot of you," I murmur, watching as hundreds of signatures were logged every second – with no end in sight.
Eventually the scan stalled out, the magic not having had enough time to diffuse to the more distant parts of that realm.
54,321,654,812 was the number that stared back at me.
54 billion shards, and that wasn't even all of them. It might not even be close.
I let out a laugh regardless, for this was still a win by any metric.
With this I could observe how the Shards interacted with each other, could listen in on their exchanges, could peel back the layers and see what made them tick.
The Shards in that non-space might not be the Shards in full, but it was enough. Already I was picking up on refinements to their forms, computing substrate that seemed at odds with what I knew of them, architecture that didn't quite fit.
The scans would also get better with time. I could send another drone, one more equipped now that I knew the exact countermeasures the entity was using. The increase in magic over that time would also aid me greatly, the scans would reach farther and would gain greater detail. All a matter of time.
The only issue now was properly managing it, because I could already tell that would be a full time job for me, even if I utilised all of my processing power, and considering that I needed that time to experiment (and occasionally terrorise an empty city)? Not happening, it couldn't be me.
It couldn't be an algorithm or V.I. either. The sheer complexity of the task would be too much.
Yet, after what happened with Taizong, the idea of creating a super-intelligent being to help me with manage this was...unappealing.
I had enough awareness to know that my excuse of Taizong being 'too smart' to talk down rationally was justification after the fact. Yet it was a justification that still held some truth to it.
I would essentially be birthing something I couldn't understand for a task that was too important to fail.
It almost made me feel-
No, wait, scratch that. I didn't feel sympathy for the Dragonslayers, that was fucking stupid. Regardless of how dangerous A.I. could be their treatment of Dragon was…
Wait, could I get Dragon to do this? I'd definitely feel more comfortable if she was the one going through this. Hell, it wouldn't even have to be her, I bet I could reboot a copy of her from one of her fallen suits!
I consider the thought, excitement building before slowly dimming as I realise something.
I couldn't, as much as it pained me, I just couldn't.
Dragon was already connected to a Shard, asking her, or any copy of hers, for help was just begging for the Shards to become aware of my plans before they were ready.
Which left me back at square one.
Fantastic.
Deciding to shelve that for the moment, I quickly noted the specific interference parameters and quickly coded a patch in my head before creating another drone. The ground before me rose and quickly took on the form I desired. It was fast, easy even. The design had already been made, and was starting to become familiar at this point.
With a thought the programming was updated and off the little drone went, first teleporting back to the surface and then quickly flying north.
With that done my eyes turned back to the row of houses I had made. They weren't identical, but they were certainly derived from the same basic template. Stone and wood made up the foundation, with narrow windows and sharp edges. They were the definition of unwelcoming, the cracks that ran through the structure certainly didn't take away from that impression.
They were the standard for the middle class housing I was building. For, you see, I had stratified this city, to a certain extent. There were districts that served different purposes, and some that were more affluent than others.
This was rather unlike my other works, which had been comparatively egalitarian in nature. With this city, my concern wasn't housing people. It was crafting a story.
Thus, it was less uniform, more chaotic and natural. There were slums in the outer reaches of the city, fragile things made of discarded wood and fabric. The section had been blocked off from the rest of the city, segregated and swept under the rug in the way humans do to all things they find unpleasant.
Then there were the slave pens. Yes, I was making slavery a part of the fake lore I was peddling, let me cook.
In a city that practiced human sacrifice and the worship of dark gods, I thought a little bit of thraldom fit.
That section was full of squat buildings, made of solid stone and filled with rusted cages. The cobbled path in this part of my creation was noticeably more worn, as if it had been marched upon more frequently than any other part of the city. Attached, but not a part of, this section was a grand amphitheatre, where the wealthy and the cults would come to inspect their potential sacrifices.
Naturally I made it gaudy as hell, just to rack up on the evil points.
Then there was the section of the city I was currently working on, or rather was working on. Rows of houses set up near an industrial centre I had created that was meant to evoke imagery of the Industrial Revolution. Lots of gears, pulleys and heavy metal. Naturally I had tapped heavily into my CyberPunk specialty for the maximum amount of OSHA violations.
So yes, this city was also supposed to be shitty to the regular working joes.
There was only one last thing to build before the skeleton of the city was complete. The wealthy part of the city, which also doubled as the religious section of the city.
Because yes, the cult and the rich assholes were one and the same here. Shocker, insert poorly made religious joke here.
Just to give you a sense of perspective, everything I've done up until now, minus the massive church, took up half the size of the city. Which meant the affluent got the other half all to themselves, the other districts locked away from it by foreboding palisades meant to be manned by pitiless guards.
And let me tell you, this next section? It was a blast. I used none of this space efficiently whatsoever. It was like every dystopian nightmare ever, squalid conditions only a few kilometres away from a private garden and pool.
Naturally, It was all in disrepair as well, but even then the sheer resources placed into each mansion would be enough to make a grown man weep. Gorgeous dark marble pillars, lined in gold, stood to support the massive structures. Within, the skinned rugs of nearly a dozen animals lined the floors. Each room was a marvel in and of itself. Massive libraries, decadent bathing rooms, luxurious living rooms, spacious balconies and more.
I created perhaps fifty mansions throughout that entire area, all separated by enormous grounds that each home called their own, with several private sacrificial sites to boot.
And with that the main work was done, an incredibly creepy, incredibly abandoned city, that worshipped eldritch monstrosities in unethical ways was complete. Or, almost.
Because, for a city designed to be reminiscent of H.P. Lovecraft's work the city was too…mundane. Awful, to be sure, but only humanly so.
It was time to start adding the defences.
For my first trick I wove a ward around the city, thin as gossamer and just as delicate. It took me four attempts to get it just right, the weave otherwise failing at inopportune times. The first part of the magic was simple, it caused the occasional auditory illusions.
Footsteps, whispers, laughter. Always right on the verge of being unrecognisable, just to plant that seed of doubt. 'Am I just hearing things? Maybe it was just the wind?'
But the real illusions started happening the moment you began using exotic methods of sensing your surroundings. The average human's sight, sound, touch, smell and taste wouldn't pick up on anything but echoes, but the moment you went beyond that?
Thermal would show tentacles weaving in an out of the city.
Night vision would show still figures, surrounding you.
X Rays would show garbled static and the symbols of the cult I had created.
As for Parahuman powers? Let's just say it wouldn't be pretty. Crushed raspberries.
With the more subtle spookiness out of the way I moved on to something more…obvious.
By this point I was an old hand at spatial manipulation, I understood the mechanics thoroughly, and compared to expanding a cavern to encompass the size of a city? What I planned to do next was nothing.
I began with the homes I had built. Some were given more volume than their outside dimensions would suggest while some were given less. For some I randomised the exit points of doors, leading them to different rooms, or even different houses. Traps were also a part of these, of course. Acid lakes, rooms filled with venomous insects, lava, magical sicknesses bound to certain locations and much, much, more.
Streets were made longer, some curved in incomprehensible ways and others abruptly stopped where they shouldn't – areas of stilled space capable of cutting a man to ribbons from the frozen atoms.
Houses bulged unnaturally, slanting in directions that should have had them collapse. Instead they stood, defiant of Euclidean geometry and physics both.
But it was the church that I messed around the most with.
Spatial projectors were manufactured by the dozens, and I had to run constant calculations in my head – measuring angles and geometries to perfection – in order for this to work.
With a fine eye observing the process, I activated the machines and the inner dimensions of the church plunged down into a black abyss. The walls gained a black, oily, quality that hadn't been there before, space folding in and out of itself so much that the light within was spread out over incalculable distances. From the windows of the church, if you looked out, you would see nothing. Literal nothingness.
It was something I had created using inspiration from Shardspace, creating a structure that was half in the real, and half not.
The specifics would go over most peoples heads, a mix of quantum and dimensional manipulation to render the space superimposed. It literally existed within a pocket dimension and in normal space at the same time.
I had no idea how looking at it would feel to a mundane human, but just being around the church made even me nauseous. Both my eyes, and my more unique senses giving me absolute nonsense whenever I turned my gaze towards it. Because I could see both, and it played merry hell on my brain.
Words can't describe it, perhaps the closest would be kaleidoscopic, but even that fails to capture the awful beauty of it.
With a light shudder I turned away from the church, averting my eyes from it and making a mental note to create my private lab far away from this place.
Yet there remained one final aspect of this city that I had yet to complete.
The occupants.
Let's run down the list.
They needed to be scary.
They needed to be able to manoeuvre in areas of warped space.
They needed to be deadly.
They needed to vary in some way.
Immediately shoggoths came to mind, yet that struck me as rather uninspired. Yes, they were a classic, but they didn't fit. I hadn't crafted a city built by the Elder Things, I had made a city driven to madness and barbarism by the very cult that lead it.
No, if there were to be monsters here they would need to be people themselves, at least visually. And, given how often I had referenced Hastur while constructing this place, those 'people' would have to be creative types. Artists, scientists, philosophers, and so on.
At that a memory emerged from the depths of my mind, of a place of learning that descended into madness. I hadn't played Bloodborne in years, but it seems some parts of it stuck.
The Slime Scholars of Byrgenwerth would serve as the primary source of inspiration, yet that alone would not do. Slow movement and throwing slime at people was, well, not too scary.
Upgrades were required.
Flesh erupted before me, twisting and turning upon itself – writhing under invisible constraints. The from would be adaptable, variable. Entirely made up of specialised stem cells capable of transforming into other cell types and then reverting when given the appropriate chemical signal.
This was not unlike the work I had done on my dogs back in Hyderabad, except a couple steps above in complexity. Unlike the hounds there would be no static shape for these creatures, only occasionally shifting body parts to resemble the forms of a human, before reverting back into a protean mass.
I paused as I realised that I may have unintentionally created a Shoggoth, despite actively trying not to.
Oh well, in for a penny.
With will alone I implanted patterns, designs, upon the very DNA of the creature itself. Pre-Prepared weapons etched into their very essence. Talons, teeth and spikes of bone. Deadly neurotoxins and miasmic breath. Hide that could occlude the senses and confuse the unwary.
And, most importantly, an organ capable of sensing the shifts and currents of space itself, which I had actually stolen wholesale from the Entities, simply making it a lot smaller using magic.
It was actually the one part of them that couldn't shift or change in any way. Even their brain was heavily distributed, but this organ needed to be in one place to function.
Naturally that was a weak spot I had done everything I could to shore up, making it more durable and even self-healing. Yet, it remained a chink in the armour I couldn't quite remove.
The finalised form of the creature solidified before me, twisting and striking out against the invisible shackles that held it in place. Distorted face shrieked at me, writhing and cackling madly even as they attempted to disembowel me.
Oh, right.
With a thought I tweaked the genetic code of the being before me, rendering it docile when exposed to a specific pheromone – one which I added a faint trace to my body seconds later.
The change in it's behaviour was obvious and immediate. The amorphous blob of silver ceased it's struggles, relaxing. The harsh whip-like tendrils melted into putty, slowly being drawn back in to re-join the main mass.
Note to self: spray Renji with the Pheromone before he comes down here. The man may be Japanese, but I'm guessing he wouldn't enjoy what would happen otherwise.
With that crude thought, I began producing more of the things, first one, and then two, before stopping at just shy of three thousand.
A number that would make the creatures uncommon for a city of this size, yet unavoidable if you wanted to cross it.
My creations quickly scurried away, some one chitinous legs, some on writhing tentacles and others on far stranger modes of transportation. Most, I knew, would hide as inanimate objects around the city, patiently waiting for prey despite lacking the need for sustenance.
Others would take a more direct approach, patrolling the city and hunting for intruders.
That was one down, now for the other.
It might or might not surprise you, but I had been creating fake cadavers in quite a few places while I was building this city. Not enough for it to realistically be the entire population of what had once inhabited this fake place, since I wanted to create some horror through absence, but there was a lot.
Are you thinking undead? Because I'm thinking undead.
Another ward joined the illusory one, blending seamlessly into each other, as I wove them together. It was a magical construct designed to target anything resembling a human skeleton, and begin to animate it if intruders ever enter the city. Now, this is a slow process. It would take a bout ten minutes for the nearest skeletons to begin walking, and they would only have an animalistic level of intellect. Given time they would grow stronger, more coordinated and smarter.
This had a cap, of course. Didn't want my skeletons becoming sapient, but they would become cunning predators capable of tussling with mid-level brutes, and most likely winning.
But the most devious part? If any intruders stayed for too long, the ward would start to target their skeletons, eventually ripping their way out of your flesh and violently killing you.
All in all, good work for my first two monsters.
But there was a problem.
I eventually noticed that, despite being one of the best hiding spots in the city, none of my Shoggoths drew closer to the church – avoiding it entirely. Even the more active and aggressive specimens kept a wide berth of the structure, occasionally hissing at screeching at it. The skeletons, without intruders, weren't moving and I hadn't placed any skeletons within, with the exception in the dungeons. Not nearly enough to act as a decent defence.
Naturally, that made me curious and snooping around the grey matter of one of my cute abominations while it was near revealed why.
That organ I made for the shoggoths? The one that allows them to perceive space? Yeah, turns out it did not like the superposition I had subjected the church to. Or, rather, the brains attached to the organs didn't like it – unable to comprehend what they were sensing.
It was a mistake, but one that undeniably added to the mystique of the place.
Just imagine! Weary survivors running through the city! Trying to escape the horde of horrors descending upon them! Only to stumble upon a place even they wouldn't tread! Would they see it as a blessing? A curse? Oh, I was so hyped!
Well, reasonably so, it's not like anybody would ever willingly enter this place. That would be dumb, even by the standards of this world.
I paused.
'Wait, did I jinx it?'
I shook my head in denial, yet my paranoia remained in spite of that.
'…Maybe I should add a few extra wards to scare off any potential visitors.'
I stopped, eyes gazing back at the church despite the nausea it caused.
'But, without my discount Shoggoths, the church is mostly undefended. I really don't want to leave this unfinished!'
I bit my lip, eyes darting between the church and the various entrances strewn across the cavern – all leading to the main gate and all empty.
'Oh, what's an hour? It's not like it'll make a difference!'
I fully turned towards the church and began walking in it's direction, stoping only briefly to curse as I realised I had just jinxed myself again.
AN: And the underground city is done! Mostly. Alexander will be adding some final defences to the church, but that'll be done off screen. What do you think? Cool city?
Also: Alexander becoming more paranoid genre savvy! Let's give him a round of applause guys!
Next update will, as usual, be in four days which is...Christmas?! Totallyplanned that, definitely not a happy accident on my part! For the holidays I'm actually going on vacation, though not out of country. Can't bring my laptop, so I'll have to type a chapter on my IPad, which I have plenty of experience doing.
Thanks for reading, please leave a comment!
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Entire Work ← Previous Chapter Next Chapter → Chapter Index Comments Share Download
Work Header
Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning:
Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Category:
Gen
Fandom:
Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Relationship:
Alexander/City Building
Characters:
Rebecca Costa-Brown | AlexandriaDragon (Parahumans)Director James TaggEmily PiggotColin Wallis | Armsmaster | DefiantBastion (Parahumans)
Additional Tags:
Self-InsertCYOAEndbringerA man finds his hobbyThe rest of the world is terrifiedCausing major wars by accidentTeehee~Misunderstandings
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:2025-02-16Updated:2026-02-25Words:229,706Chapters:83/?Comments:559Kudos:1,458Bookmarks:363Hits:86,824
(End)Bringing You A New Home! (Endbringer SI)
10moorem
Chapter 68: Chapter 68: Good Crawls
Summary:
Alexander goes to get a sandwich, meanwhile…
Chapter Text
Chapter 68: Good Crawls
-Chubster POV-
Ben ran.
He ran without thought, taking no attempt to pace himself.
There was only mindless panic.
His ragged breaths burned in his lungs as he heaved himself forwards.
Cackles lit up the tunnel behind him, the sound like nails on a chalkboard.
'Run! Run! Run!'
It was the sole thought he had been reduced to.
No thoughts for his teammates. No tactical considerations. Not even the longing for his daughter.
Just sheer, unrelenting, animal panic.
The light of the caves entrance was just up ahead! He just had to make it!
"BEEEEEEENNNNN! WHERE ARE YOU GOING!!!!" The cackles increased in volume as the voice of his ex-wife screamed behind him.
"DAD?! DAD! WHY ARE YOU LEAVING ME?!" This time it was his daughter, her distorted voices pleading behind him amidst the awful laughter.
He kept running.
One foot in front of the other, again and again. His muscles burned. His feet ached. His spirit sobbed.
He kept going, bursting from the cave and landing in a snowy pile that had gathered outside of the entrance.
He scrambled forwards, throwing himself on his back as he turned to look towards the entrance.
Glowing beady eyes followed him, now eerily silent. He still couldn't make the figure out, the being draped in darkness with only the bright yellow eyes serving to distinguish them.
They betrayed the figure's inhumanity. Not in structure, for they appeared normal – mundane. It was in the way they behaved. The figure never blinked, and never turned their attention away from him. Hungry, predatory and absolutely not human.
There was a squelch, and the sound of dripping liquid as the figure held out a stocky arm, and began waving it at him.
The laughter returned, cruel and mocking – malevolence dripping from the abyssal shadows.
"Poor Atlas," the thing mocked, still waving the dripping, severed, arm of one of his friends.
The being spoke with many voices, and in it he could hear the sound of friends, colleagues, family and acquaintances. Everyone he had ever known, now being cruelly used to twist the knife further.
Ben shivered, eyes still locked on to the figure, body ready to bolt if the being came any closer.
The waving stopped, the stare didn't. Still watching, still calculating. Cruelty dancing in the pale yellow orbs.
And it was cruel, he knew this, he had a dozen cuts spread across his form that could vouch for him. The thing had pursued him through the tunnel, separating him from the others. It had toyed with him, lashing out with biting talons of shadow. Each in a non-lethal area.
But what chilled him the most was that it had only started doing so after he had used his powers to save Orwell from a falling rock that threatened to crush their skull.
Ben wasn't stupid, he knew what this thing had been doing.
It had begun by causing a collapse in the tunnel, separating many of them from each other. The collapse had split the team into two, leaving him and Atlas together while the others had been separated deeper within. After that it had taken great pleasure in chasing them, randomly inflicting them with wound after wound as they attempted to find the exit.
Environmental danger for Pyroclasm, the Shaker.
Physical harm and pain for both him and Atlas, the Brutes.
Trigger Events. It was deliberately reminding them of their trigger events.
The eyes watching him dilated slightly, taking obvious pleasure in his realisation, and -with one final wave of the severed arm- the figure vanished. The only sound to be heard from the cave from the next minute being the sound of tearing flesh, wet gulps and finally silence.
He remained there for another minute, silent and watching the cave – eyes watering from how long he was keeping them open.
Nothing.
It was gone.
"Ha."
Without meaning to, he let out a soft laugh.
"Hahaha."
He couldn't help it, the sheer catharsis of having lived – moments away from death – was too much.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
He shuddered in the snow, the laughter wracking his form, coming out in short desperate barks. His throat burned from the icy air he had to force into his lungs to keep on laughing.
He was alive!
After all of that!
He was alive!
The laughter quickly turned into sobbing, the tears stinging his cheek.
Why him?
Why him?!
Shuffle.
Shade.
Wayfarer.
Atlas.
All dead.
And what of the others?
What would happen to them?
They were still down there.
Orwell.
Scope.
Remote.
They were still down there!
He scrambled up, only to find his feet frozen as he stared into the entrance of the cave, knowing well that something was watching, waiting.
Ben's spine crawled, and he forced himself to take a step back.
Going in there alone was suicide, he was forced to admit.
So how could he-
The radio. Crackling static, occasionally broken up by indistinct voices, was echoing from the device at his side.
He grabbed it, and raised it up to his mouth.
"Hello?! Is anyone there?!" His desperate cries were swallowed by the harsh winter wind that battered against his form. He didn't care, now that he was no longer moving his power had kicked in – protecting him from the elements.
The radio whined, the volume pitching oddly, yet nothing discernible came through.
"Hello! Hello!!!" He still tried, screaming against the radio – heart beating in his chest as the tears running down his face turned to ice.
"Please. There has to be someone. Anyone." Chubster begged.
"I-" the static increased "hear," yet he could hear it – a voice!
"Remote! Is that you?!" He almost sagged in relief, a smile spreading across his face as he heard the sound of one of his teammates.
"Yes, it's me. Blasted thing! Why is it only working for this?!" The distortions ceased, the Tinker on the other end no doubt putting together a solution to clear up the interference.
Chubster straightened, his training coming back to him now that he had confirmed the life of one of his squad mates.
"Remote, I've made it out of the cave. What is your situation, over?"
He heard a sigh from the radio, The Tinker never being one for regulation at the best of times.
"I'm fine, but I've been separated from Orwell and Scope. Haven't seen any further sightings, but that might be because I've been forced into going further down the cave."
Chubster's heart lurched in his chest. So Orwell and Scope were MIA, and in their condition…
"Just… focus on getting out alive Remote, that's the most you can do right now."
"Don't I know it," Remote dryly said.
"Remote, there's something you should know." His voice was grave as he spoke next, explaining to the Tinker his theory as to what the creatures had been up to. He laid it all out methodically, the man on the other end of the radio quiet as the dead.
"Remote? Are you still there?"
"Hm? Oh, yes, I am. Just considering things. It makes sense, your theory I mean, but I'm not sure how they'll try to apply that to me."
Chubster's lips pursed. That was a good point.
Tinkers typically triggered over issues that ran on for a long period of time, seemingly impossible to fix. So unless those things were planning to keep him down there then there wasn't…
Ben's eyes widened, the feeling of ice being pored down his back coming over him as fear took ahold.
Fuck! That might actually be what they do!
The tunnels running under the snow had seemed labyrinthine, even with what little he saw of them. Trying to escape would certainly count as an impossible hardship, the monsters below would simply have to keep him there.
"Ben? Are you still there?" The radio crackled, Remote's question uncertain in tone.
His head snapped up.
"Yes! I'm still here, it's just…"
He stopped. Would telling Remote his theory actually help him? Every parahuman tended to get twitchy regarding their trigger event, Ben himself was no exception. Telling his friend might just make him panic.
Worst case scenario, he was wrong but gave the things listening in ideas.
He shuddered at the thought.
"Sorry, I think the cold may be getting to me after all," he said, coming up with the lie in a split second – and quickly regretting it a moment later.
The silence on the other end was unmistakeably disbelieving, Remote not even having to voice his thoughts to make them known. Ben grimaced slightly, not his best lie considering every member of the squad knew each other's powers like the back of their hands.
"Suuuure," the man drawled sarcastically.
"Yeah, yeah, look I'm not at my best here," Ben sighed, taking a moment to close his eyes.
The adrenaline that had been coursing through his system was beginning to fade now. He could feel the tiredness seeping in to his muscles, sapping his strength and causing him to wilt slightly. His wounds were also becoming more painful now, strips of wet pain across his body that made him want to hiss.
"I think the adrenaline is beginning to crash," he said, weaving the truth into his lie.
"Ah," he said, and this time sounded far more convinced.
Ben opened his eyes again, first checking the cave to make sure nothing had crawled out while he wasn't paying attention. Luckily whatever had been chasing him seemed inclined to stay within the catacombs.
Then he looked up. Still bright, or bright-ish, anyway.
Right, didn't the poles have extremely long day and night cycles? Ben remembered learning about that in one of those programs his daughter used to watch. Geographic something?
He shook his head, not important.
"Are you still going down?"
"Yeah," the man said, not sounding pleased about it. "Haven't found any alternate routes back up yet, so I don't have any other options. Worst comes to worst you'll have to head back to Jinzhou to tell them where I am, perhaps they could dig me out?"
He laughed through the radio, but there was a bitter edge to it. As if he didn't believe the people of that place would go to the trouble. Ben found it hard to disagree.
It wasn't that the people he had met had hated him, or even been impolite. There was simply…a detached coldness present in every interaction he had had with them. Especially their leader, Taizong.
The thought of the man made him grit his teeth. He still hadn't forgotten what the man had attempted to do with Shuffle, even if it didn't work.
"Let's keep that as a last resort," he laughed back, his chuckle filled with unease.
"Amen."
Ben's chuckles ceased as the silence returned, he could hear faint footsteps coming from the radio – so he knew Remote was still there. Yet, Ben knew the silence must be haunting to his friend, considering his situation, so wracked his brain to think of a topic.
Eventually he found one. "Is there anything I can do from up here? Maybe boost your signal?"
Remote laughed again, at that question.
"If I couldn't get a signal up there myself, I doubt you could. The only reason we're able to communicate right now is because of how close we are right now," he paused, "well, relatively at least."
He felt a hollow ache in his chest at the answer. "So there's nothing?"
Remote paused, considering.
"Just keep talking, this place is unnervingly silent."
He chuckled, commiserating at that.
"Just you and your footsteps, eh?"
He heard a short gasp coming from the radio, and the sound of the footsteps abruptly stopping.
The silence grew, it felt thick and cloying, and Ben once again felt a chill run through him – his heart beginning to beat faster once again.
"Remote?"
"Ben," came the voice of his friend, his voice shaky, "Do you remember the requisitions we were allowed to make for this mission?"
Ben frowned. "Yeah, I remember, so what?"
"So, knowing this was a stealth mission, I made a few adjustments to my costume. Small things, but ones I thought would be necessary. I especially decided to add a few changes to my boots," Remote's voice was beginning to edge into slight hysteria now, his breaths coming quicker as he attempted to smother a rising panic.
Ben was now growing increasingly concerned, and more sure that he was missing something. His boots? Those clunky things? What modifications had he made?
"Where are you going with this?"
"Ben. My footsteps shouldn't be audible to you!"
Ben felt a pit drop in his stomach.
Of course, Remote had added sound dampening to his boots, but if that was the case…
"Those footsteps weren't mine!" His friend finished his thoughts for him.
"Run!" The order was barked into the radio, and he could hear Remote obeying – the sounds of exertion intensifying as his friend broke into a run. Ben couldn't hear the footsteps now, which only provoked a sense of dread in him at how blatant it now was in hindsight.
And that was Ben's world for the next ten minutes. Lying in the snow, staring at the radio and hoping, begging to God himself, that his friend didn't die. Remotes breathing grew more haggard, more desperate as he pushed himself further.
Remote had never been the most athletic member of the team, frequently playing support in the field with his many gadgets, a practice that was currently not doing him many favours.
Then he heard it. A gasp, and for a single terrifying heartbeat he geared the worst.
Then his friend spoke once more.
"Wha…What is this place?" There was an edge of wonder to his friends voice, a disbelief so profound Ben could taste it.
"Remote, I could really use a play by play here," he said, feeling distinctly useless.
There was a pause before Remote spoke again, as if he was taking it all in.
"It…there's a gate, and a city – I can see it In the distance," his friend said, his voice beginning to pick up static. Not enough to render him indecipherable, but noticeable.
Perhaps it was the distance? Remote had run a long way.
"There are other tunnels behind me," he heard a gulp as his friend continued, "But I can see what was chasing me now, they're watching me from the dark. They're in the other tunnels too," Remote said, defeat evident in his words.
Ben's fist cratered the snowy ground next to him, and he yelled into the radio. "Well don't give up! What about forwards, you said there was a city? Maybe there are supplies there?" His mind raced, attempting to figure a way out of this predicament.
If Remote could find somewhere safe, somewhere with enough shelter and sustenance a rescue mission could still be launched, whether by Jinzhou or the PRT it didn't matter!
"Yes, there's a city, but…"
Remote paused, clearly still off kilter by what he was seeing.
"there are things moving in it, I can't quite make out what they are but they don't look friendly. Then there's the bars…"
This time the pause had nothing to do with wonder or confusion, for Ben could hear the slight retching noise coming from his Radio. Whatever these gates were, they were enough to cause intense disgust in someone who had seen the worst of the worst throughout his career.
"Sorry…I don't think I should get any closer to them. I don't think I've seen anything so…" Remote failed to find an adequate word to describe them, and chose to move past the subject. "I could send a drone down, scope out the area," he offered.
Ben didn't hesitate. "Do it."
The drone, Ben remembered, had been hastily crafted using cannibalised equipment, Remote had attempted to use it to boost their signal before they had found this cave. It hadn't worked, but now it seemed it might come in handy after all.
So that's what Remote did, sending the drone across the sheer cliff face he was currently one, past the gates and into the city. Remote didn't speak much for this, except to, warily, note that he was getting readings that didn't make any sense.
"It's like this city is full of people, Chubster. I'm getting all sorts of reading that tell me that there are people there, yet they're not physically present," Remote had told him. A large scale stranger effect of some kind, Ben had surmised and Remote agreed with – albeit with a sliver of unease.
Eventually Remote spoke up once again. "I think I'm going to have to investigate what's at the centre of this place."
"You mean the church? The one that's causing all your readings to go haywire?" Ben frowned, not liking the idea.
"Yeah," his friend sighed. "If there is a persistent effect going on, the it seems likely we'll find the source there. The drone has a bomb equipped, so if it's a parahuman I should be able to take them out to lower the effect."
Ben reluctantly agreed. The 'if' and 'should' of that plan did not fill him with confidence but what else was there? Remote had already confirmed that there were no other exits than the ones behind him, so they were truly reaching desperate territories here.
So, the drone flew on. Crossing into the church with little delay. All the while Remote narrated what he was seeing.
"There's…a lot of organic matter here. Maybe we're dealing with a Case 39?"
Ben grimaced at that. Case 39s were perhaps one of the most unfortunate Cases to run into. Sometime when a Parahuman triggers things didn't go right. Not all the time, not even rarely – but it did happen. Case 39s were what happened when Breakers got the short end of that particular stick, transforming their body irrevocably – far worse than any Case 53.
"Well, it's either that or a Biotinker, so keep your eyes peeled," he said grimly.
"Lots of spores in the air, luckily it won't impede my drone. This is a pretty strange church though."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, I wanna say Satantic? The stained glass windows are…creepy. Lots of saints and holy figures weeping and screaming," Remote said, sounding unnerved. "There's also-"
He stopped.
Ben lurched upwards, staring at his radio.
"Remote?"
No answer.
"Remote?!"
Nothing, just the sound of trembled breathing.
Finally, he spoke.
"It's beautiful."
The signal stopped.
AN: Another section to the horror part! Hooray! So, yeah, nobody is having a good time right now and Alexander's city is being explored right after Alexander finished it. Seriously, this black ops team has the worst timing ever. This is the second time they've missed the MC by an hour or less.
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Parahumans Series - Wildbow
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Rebecca Costa-Brown | AlexandriaDragon (Parahumans)Director James TaggEmily PiggotColin Wallis | Armsmaster | DefiantBastion (Parahumans)
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Self-InsertCYOAEndbringerA man finds his hobbyThe rest of the world is terrifiedCausing major wars by accidentTeehee~Misunderstandings
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Published:2025-02-16Updated:2026-02-25Words:229,706Chapters:83/?Comments:559Kudos:1,458Bookmarks:363Hits:86,824
(End)Bringing You A New Home! (Endbringer SI)
10moorem
Chapter 69: Chapter 69: Mending
Summary:
Alexander discovers that too much drama might be bad, actually.
Also, sorry for the formatting. Too tired to fix right now.
Chapter Text
Chapter 69: Mending
-Alexander POV-
I stare down at the twitching body before me in mute shock, the sandwich I had been planning to eat while gazing upon my work now sat forgotten – dropped upon the floor with a sad squish.
'What? How? I was gone for an hour tops!'
My bafflement at finding a man who looked coked up on every drug imaginable didn't end for a solid five minutes, it was just so surreal, like a clown riding a unicycle and fist fighting a bear. Seriously, how would you react to this? Shit was weird.
'Wait, isn't this guy part of that same group that attempted to infiltrate Jinzhou?'
My MIU pulled up the relevant info, quickly matching the face before me to one of the prisoners that Taizong's government had processed.
'He is! Holy fuck! How can you be this incompetent! Why did you go into the spooky cave?! Have you not watched any movies?!'
As I was busy freaking out, Renji quietly nudged the man with a foot, rolling him over. Going by the amount of saliva that flowed from his mouth, I had to consider whether Renji may have genuinely saved his life from drowning in his own spit.
Which, thank God if so.
I did not want the first death of this place to be something that lame, imagine the tombstone I would have to make.
Oddly, it was that thought which finally shook me out of my stupor.
"What the fuck," I finally vocalise.
Renji shrugs, "congratulations on triumphing over this infiltrator, my liege," he simply said – as calm as ever.
I woodenly turned my head to look at him, unable to tell whether he was giving me a genuine compliment for something I didn't do or sassing me. After a second, I decided to take the compliment, I needed one right now.
"Thank you Renji," I said blandly, turning a more critical eye to the unconscious man before me now that I was no longer so dumbstruck.
Going by the odd technology he had on him, this was a Tinker of some kind. The armour he wore, a ceramic of curious composition, was dented and scratched in a hundred different places. Most of them, I could tell with my powers, were fairly recent.
The slight trace of concrete dust in the cracks and seams of his armour indicated that at least some of that damage had come from the prison collapsing on top of him, but others were clearly of a more supernatural nature, going by the magic that bled from them. A particularly large gash across a shoulder pad drew my eye.
It was clean, impossibly so. Unless he ran into one of my Paragons the only beings that could do that sort of damage would be the cave crawlers.
Oof, poor bastard.
A faint hint of static drew my eyes to a discarded radio, by his side and my eyes widened. The possibility that his teammates might still be here rose, like a whale breaching the surface of the sea of my mind, even if they weren't within my range.
In addition there was the screen he still held in his hands, the grip ferociously tight. A controller of some kind, going by the internals, the signal connecting it to something out of my range – though going by the strength it was still relatively close by.
A look at the screen before him made me wince.
Ah, so that's how it is.
The innards of the church were in stark view, the stained windows and yellow stylised frescos were obvious, even from here.
'Well at least now I know why he looks so out of it.'
A quick peek inside the man, not something I typically do for obvious reasons, revealed that no; the man was not on drugs.
He was simply suffering from a brain haemorrhage.
Which was not ideal!
"Oh shit, shit, shit!"
Don't go dying on me now! I still need some info, feel free to die later!
The blood-brain barrier currently resembled swiss cheese, dozens of tiny holes slowly but surely allowing blood to seep in – damaging structures along the Prefrontal Cortex. With a hiss, I sealed those shut, and transmuted the blood already present within the brain into Stem Cells, allowing them to aid in the regeneration of the dead brain tissues.
Still, neurons had been destroyed, dozens of structures changed irreparably. Even BioPunk could only give me general estimates, but even those were grim.
"Fuck!"
A runic circle scrawled itself into existence, surrounding the fallen man and erupting with a brilliant green light.
I examined the Tinker, watched as his brain started slowly shifting. Neurons spun back into existence, structures reformed and tissue reknitted itself.
I let out a sigh of relief.
It was slow going, but the worst was slowly being mended.
As the magic continued its efforts to slowly revert the damage done to the parahuman, I took another look at the still image of the interior of the church and shook my head in faint bewilderment.
What had happened to this man had been the result of the final defensive measure I had employed in the church. A ward scheme, but not one I had ever utilised before, something truly unique.
It was, in effect, a Genius Loci. One centred around the church itself, a sentient -though not sapient- mind that was made use of the free floating magical motes themselves. The building blocks of magic gave the being unprecedented mental acuity, capable of crunching trillions of calculations a second, should I have chosen to use it that way.
I hadn't.
Instead I had given the being everything I had on curses and cognitohazards and told it to defend the church from anyone who dared to enter it.
With the exception of myself and Renji – I'm not that stupid.
The being had taken that knowledge, and promptly begun to iterate upon it, producing ever more horrifying curses and mental viruses.
In a way, that being was the stand in for the eldritch god of this fake civilisation. A being so far beyond current human understanding that it might as well be a deity, one that can drive people insane with just the barest whisper.
In truth, it had far surpassed my expectations for it, to the point that it made me re-work certain plans of mine.
But that was for later. For now, I needed to find the other intruders. Couldn't interrogate a corpse, after all!
Not without dipping into necromancy, anyway.
But seriously, these defences were meant to hold off or intimidate entire armies, that it was probably being used to bully a handful of people was far beyond what I had initailly designed them for. If they weren't literal home invaders I'd probably feel really bad. As it stands, I still kinda feel a little bad.
"Renji, stay with this one," I ordered. "Make sure no harm comes to him."
Renji nodded, the at-ease posture transformed into one of vigilance and discipline.
Yeah, Renji's got that.
Okay, given that the radio by the man's side had obviously been reconfigured to powerful short range transmissions, his teammates had to be somewhere close by.
I decided to begin checking the most dangerous places and begin working down from there. A quick fly through the city revealed nothing, not a single trace of any humans visiting in the last hour.
Then it was the tunnels, Using the faint disturbances in the dust and soil, I deduced which of the six tunnels the man had come in from. Surely they would have come in from the same direction right? There's no way they had decided to split their party up?
Remembering their previous accomplishments, which was to say: complete clusterfucks, I redoubled my speed.
I could feel my awareness spreading across the catacombs like water through a sponge, soaking in every last crevice and crack to be found. Inch after inch, mile after mile. I hurried on, only restraining my speed enough to not collide into the tunnels walls.
It was the magic that told me I was getting close, a malevolent and oppressive force that wished to twist perception, even reaching for me before I crushed the attempt like spun glass.
The hooks and barbs of magic shied away from me after that display, suddenly fearful, like a shark noticing the passing wake of a leviathan.
The cave grew darker, and considering I had used magic to set the environment at a certain light level, that wasn't a good sign for anyone who wasn't me.
Then I found them, two unconscious figures lying helpless on the rocky floor of the cave. Shadowy figures danced around them, their figures distorted and shifting irregularly. Every so often one would break away from the encirclement, darting toward the two capes. Each time they did the two would shiver and shake, as if experiencing Morpheus' worst tortures.
I knew what these were, yet more defences I had concocted.
I stepped forwards, ignoring the hissing, spitting, shadows. I deigned to give them nothing, no reaction, no sign of emotion. To do so would be to project upon them, to give them power. In truth these things were nothing, void of anything but hunger and envy - not even alive, truly.
They acted as mirrors, seeking to draw out the most extreme reactions, the most flavour. Typically that was fear. The location, the scary things I had placed around the area and the victim's own assumptions would lead to that being the most easily drawn out emotion to feast upon.
In truth they could devour almost anything; happiness, love, regret, curiosity. So long as it was something.
So, no matter how hard they hissed, begged and pleaded in those shadowy tongues, I gave them no mind. I simply knelt down next to the two parahumans before me, using a single fingernail to etch a basic rune of mind protection upon the masks they bore.
Immediately the shivering stopped, the nightmares ceasing their advance – much to the enraged howls of the darkness around me. I supressed the urge to frown, a black feeling clawing its way up my throat. I forced it down.
Was that all of them?
No, my MIU provided the answer. The team that had initially sought to infiltrate Jinzhou held more members than this, I had only found three of them. That was five unaccounted for.
At the very least these two were not in danger of dying, just suffering from the world's worst migraine. With my power a quick release of dopamine and a few other 'feel good' chemicals flooded their brains, hopefully taking the edge off.
Then, with a single thought there was a flash, and when it faded the two were gone – deposited near Renji.
I got up, shaking myself off, my face blank in spite of the leering figures I could see prancing along the cave wall. Now that their prey had left, they were no longer interested in this place. They gave me no further mind, for I was not viewed as prey in what passes for their minds. The shadows swayed, dancing along the cave walls, moving further along.
I followed them, knowing they would be headed for the rest, or whatever remained of them at least.
I found another man rooted in place, gazing from a side room filled with old books and lanterns. His form had been cleverly shrouded in illusions, made to appear as if he was dead. In actuality he was merely frozen in place, his body unresponsive in spite of his fervent attempts to free himself.
Poor man, even now I could feel his nerves firing pointlessly, attempting to move even a single finger while the shadows around him drank in his fear and helplessness like a vintage wine.
When I had made this defence I had thought myself rather clever. It was, at once, a security measure that would affect almost every parahuman I knew of while simultaneously being unlikely to lead to many deaths, assuming they had the intellect to not push further.
However, now that I was looking upon the consequences, I found that thought to be both correct and hilariously wrong.
Yes, it was effective. Yes, it hadn't led to any deaths so far.
Yet, to say it was cruel would be an understatement. That same feeling I had felt earlier redoubled in intensity, I forced it down again.
With a ripple of magic the effect was undone, causing the man to fall to the floor hacking and coughing.
He looked up. "What…Who are you?" The man asked me.
For a moment the question stumped me, before I realised that of course he hasn't heard of me.
The man had been imprisoned before my unintended reveal to the world, no wonder!
I smiled softly, trying to appear comforting. "Someone who's going to get you out of here, so don't worry."
He looked worried. No, in fact he looked ready to start pumping those legs far away from me.
Which, fair enough.
I was a giant blue lady with multiple arms that was currently inside of the sketchy, and traumatising, cave. If I was him I probably would have started running by now.
Seeing as he was unlikely to listen to reason right now, I decided to knock the man out with a usage of fine scale manipulation of his blood vessels.
It took less than a second for him to start swaying, eyes wide and realising something was wrong but too slow to do anything about it.
Once again ignoring the dismayed shrieks of the shadows, I took a moment to inspect the man under my care. Or, to be more specific, his costume. The lightning dotting his form, as well as the ribbons of colour dotting his legs that reminded me of a comic's motion lines, told me the man was likely a Mover.
'Come to think of it, the two back there were likely Thinkers, weren't they?' I remembered the eye shapes, the lithe -spy like- apparel as I thought of this.
Trapping the Mover in his own body. Emotionally tormenting the Thinkers…
My lips curled into a frown as I realised what this likely meant, hurriedly teleporting the man to Renji so I could quicken my pace.
Another I found buried under rubble, judging by the costume he was a Shaker. I healed and teleported him out, just like the others and sped up even further.
Unfortunately the last two I found were in much worse condition.
Past an enormous cave in I found my first corpse.
The man was splattered against the floor and, given the bloodstains on the ceiling, I can surmise that his death had been a bad one.
Lowering my head, I began fixing up the body as best I could. The ribs knitted themselves back together, the split and crushed flesh reverted to a pristine condition. If not for the amount of blood surrounding and covering him I could almost mistake him as simply asleep.
Why had they killed this one?
The thought stuck with me as I continued on, the corpse disappeared in a flash of light, once more finding itself dumped next to - a likely progressively freaking out- Renji.
Poor guy, I'd have to speed up my plans for his new upgrades to make up for this.
Finally, I came across the last of the infiltrators that I would find, a tall and muscular man, slumped against a smooth wall and weeping blood from the lost limb at his side.
He was alive, but barely.
The next few minutes were a slow, painful, process of bringing the man back from the brink. Utilising both magic and science I was capable of it, but it had been touch and go for a few moments, such was how close he had been to death's door.
The man's body had been a mess, to the point that even the shadows had slunk off by the time I had reached him, no doubt assuming their prey had nothing left to give.
They had clearly taken their time with him, going by the number of lacerations, and at this point it was clear that my defences had unexpected synergy when it came to a Parahumans often cracked psyches.
Each of the team had suffered in ways that matched their trigger events, with the exceptions of the Tinker and -what I assumed to be- the Stranger. Perhaps because those trigger events were harder for the defences to bring out?
I had wanted an effective means of defending my workshop, and I had it. I had wanted that same defence to match the vibe I had been going for, and I had certainly succeeded there too.
Yet, now that I knew how it had interacted with the parahumans that had come here…
A girl weeping alone in her cell, feeling trapped and alone.
A man alone, at the bottom of the ocean, lamenting his lost life.
Well, it suddenly felt wrong, and I could now identify the crushing feeling that had been doggedly chasing after me this entire time: it was guilt.
...I needed to do something about this.
With a sigh, and a palm against the smooth cave wall, I dismissed some of the magical defences I had set up. The divination wards were still present, as were many others, but the magic that created the cave crawlers, those mocking shadows, turned dead underneath my fingertips – the apparitions fading from the corner of my eye.
My inner drama nerd wept at the waste, yet I was adamant.
It had been too much.
I wasn't sure what defences I would have to make to replace the ones I had torn down, perhaps a few biotinkered monsters, perhaps barriers that attempted to block entry, but either way it would be different.
Still lethal, sure. But not as cruel as this one had been.
Looking down at the now healed man I sighed, and picked him up.
Shuffle's fate was already known.
As for the other, he was still missing, I had sent a signal to inform Jinzhou of the current situation, telling them to search the surrounding environment for a sign of the man. With their wide variety of drones I had little doubt they would find him, assuming he could still be found.
I shifted the man in my arms, attempting to find a more comfortable position for the unconscious figure – before walking back down the cave.
Hopefully Renji wouldn't be too upset with me dumping bodies on him.
AN: Aftermath of the team's cave spelunking adventure. Yeah, not as many died as you might first think. That's solely due to the monsters they ended up facing, who were emotivores created by the wards surrounding the cave. They wanted to get all they could out of their victims before killing them.
Alexander seeing what happened decides that maybe building off of vibes may have been a bad idea, and turns the creatures off. To be clear he's not upset that the defences killed or hurt the PRT team. If all they did was kill them Alexander would not have cared as much, it was the fact that the defences poked so much at the parahuman's trauma that he deemed to be too much, as that's currently a great way to push his buttons.
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Work Header
Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning:
Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Category:
Gen
Fandom:
Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Relationship:
Alexander/City Building
Characters:
Rebecca Costa-Brown | AlexandriaDragon (Parahumans)Director James TaggEmily PiggotColin Wallis | Armsmaster | DefiantBastion (Parahumans)
Additional Tags:
Self-InsertCYOAEndbringerA man finds his hobbyThe rest of the world is terrifiedCausing major wars by accidentTeehee~Misunderstandings
Language:
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Published:2025-02-16Updated:2026-02-25Words:229,706Chapters:83/?Comments:559Kudos:1,458Bookmarks:363Hits:86,824
(End)Bringing You A New Home! (Endbringer SI)
10moorem
Chapter 70: Chapter 70: Analysis
Summary:
Alexander does some science and Chubster finally ends the worst vacation he's ever been on.
Chapter Text
Chapter 70: Analysis
-Alexander POV-
So, complications.
What the hell was I supposed to do with half a dozen unconscious parahumans?
Well, first of all, keep them sedated. Don't want them breaking out to go cause a mess somewhere else. Plus it prevents any of them undergoing any furthertrauma.
Take notes Taizong!
The six were currently in stasis tubes, lined in a row in a section of the underground chamber that would soon be my workshop. The place where I would peel back the secrets of the entities, and where I would derive methods of slaying those cosmic worms.
Now, if you're thinking to yourself: 'Alexander, this whole setup sounds incredibly unethical!"
You would be right!
Counterpoint: I'm going to need other methods of observing the shards than just the breach in Jinzhou. Shardspace, for all its brilliance, didn't allow me to observe a shard in its fullness, merely small extrusions – like the fingernail of some massive being poking through the firmament of space. Plus it would be as non-invasive as I could make it.
They wouldn't be the first test subjects, however. They simply weren't suitable.
Ideally I would want to observe a vial cape first, infiltrating the defences of a dead shard would probably be many times easier than a living one. After that I would work my way up, first observing a newborn, before moving on to a fully mature and living shard.
That being said, these people had already been away from their families and loved ones for about a while now, so ideally I want to either work my way through those first two examples quickly, or find replacements for these six.
I decided to give myself a month.
If I hadn't found, and captured, a suitable vial cape -and the host of a newborn- in that span of time I would release the six of them – their memories of the past month erased.
If I had then I could move on to my non-invasive studies, so it might take a little longer to return them.
Still morally iffy, but acceptably so by my standards.
And if I wanted to find my needed subjects there was one area I knew like the back of my hand, where both resided.
I was speaking, of course, about Brockton Bay. There were lots of vial capes present in the city, probably because it was the place where that 'Terminus' project was going on.
Which, y'know, still dumb, but it's currently beneficial to me.
One of them was even a justifiable target!
As for the newborn shard, I had one confirmed and two that I was unsure about.
Victoria Dallon, host of the Fragile One. It was both an extremely weak shard, and one which aligned itself much more closely with human values than the vast majority of its kind.
I suspected that Laserdream and…Fuck, what was her brother's name again?
Shield Guy?
Well, whatever, I was pretty sure they also had newborn shards.
If Vicky becomes unavailable, for whatever reason, they would do.
I nodded to myself, the basics of a plan down, now it was time to start planning an entirely different operation – one far more dicey than merely kidnapping a few people to study.
I frown, a flicker of unease running through me as I consider the situation with Mary – or Thanatos in her new form. I had gone over the intelligence provided by Taizong, and then promptly fact checked the hell out of them.
Mary was in the winds.
She had skipped right across the ocean, blew past Brockton Bay and promptly pulled a disappearing act with Boston. To say America is shitting the bed right now would be an understatement, and I couldn't help but feel the slightest bit responsible.
Of course, that alone wouldn't be enough to get me to alter my plans, considering that there were plenty other things I was responsible for which I'm leaving be. Japan, Germany, Korea and many others were impacted far more directly by my efforts.
America, meanwhile, ran dick first into a woodchipper. They chose to get involved.
Perhaps that wasn't fair, but I wasn't inclined to be fair to the country that funded the PRT and Protectorate.
Still, the only reason I was choosing to get involved was because allowing a Titan free roam wasn't going to end well for anyone. This was a creature of Endbringer levels of power all while lacking nearly none of their chains.
To make matters worse, I had absolutely no idea what it would do next. Unlike in Ward, Scion wasn't dead yet, so it can't be plotting to usurp control over the Shard Network just yet. So what would it want?
Unfortunately, beyond the usual of: conflict and data, I had zilch.
That alone was reason enough to get rid of it.
…If I could revert the changes that would be an added bonus, everything I knew about the process of transforming into a Titan tells me that it isn't a pleasant process. Not to mention that it could be a good case study for retrieving the minds trapped in Shardspace. Because, yikes, not enough people really consider how awful of an afterlife that is.
Having only your Shard for company for years on end with nothing to do? I could only imagine that the vast majority of the dead Parahumans were batshit insane at this point.
Weird to think about, but the Butcher might actually be one of the luckiest in what happens after death.
I eventually push aside the distracting thoughts, instead choosing to focus on what I will require to do battle with Thanatos. Some manner of dimensional weaponry will be required to kill the avatar, that's for sure. I'll also need to miniaturise the anti-divination ward for personal use, as I doubt the Titan will allow me enough time to ward wherever we'll fight.
But, most importantly, I'll need to find it first.
"So, the question is…If I were a massive conflict driven abomination, where would I go?" I pointedly ignore the irony as I speak aloud.
Well, the obvious answer would be: wherever the conflict is, but there had yet to be a sighting of Thanatos since their visit to Boston. Which means they're either laying low or they're not on Earth Bet.
Which presents its own set of problems, because the number of places it could be were massive. Forget 'needle in a haystack' this was more like asking me to find a needle in a solar system!
Ugh.
Okay, the most logical place to check first would be Boston. I'd set up sensors to try to find a trace that I could follow. If not…
Well, mapping out the local multiverse was already something I had planned to do. My scheme to outwit Scion required it, after all.
Without further ado, I got to work.
This was the third time I had built a dedicated surveillance drone, and which was most definitely the start of a trend. Noticing this, I also began creating a means to automate the creation of the devices in question.
I was nothing if not lazy, after all.
The final product was a machine about five meters across and 2 meters high, which was actually a lot bigger than it could be. With my many specialisations I could shrink the device to be less than half the size, yet there was a reason I didn't.
This was a device that could benefit more than just me, The uses Jinzhou could have for it were staggering. Rescue, scouting, research, weather prediction and more could be done through the use of these upgraded drones, so a factory purpose built to print them like paper would certainly be useful.
Yet, if I made it too small I risked making it too complicated to use, the use of dimensional engineering and meta-materials alone would only confuse the engineers assigned to it. Sure, they'd be able to work it, but understand it?
Nah, besides it's not like this version of the factory was any less effective.
So, after using my creation to create thirty or so drones -you know, just in case- I teleported it up to the surface, quickly sending an email to Taizong with instructions on what it was, where to find it and how it works.
Which left me with twenty nine spare drones to use, after sending one of them to scout out Boston.
Eh, they'd come in handy someday.
I turn to my friend, who had been hovering in the doorway for the past ten minutes. Not sure what was up with that, and I chalked it up to a 'Renji thing'.
"Yo, Renji! Want to begin your upgrades?" The holler was met with an eager nod, the man almost skipping into the room from how happy he appeared. I took in the joyous mood with a small smile of my own, quickly fabricating a surgical bed for him lay down on.
Feeling my smile turn a bit impish, I wait until Renji lies down upon the bed before transmuting an array of equipment, part surgical and part industrial, onto a newly crafted table besides me.
Renji's smile is quickly snuffed out, as he watches the tools in the same way one would a snake. I pretend not to notice as I wheel the table closer.
"You alright there, Renji?" I sunnily smile at the slightly pale face of my friend, now much more uncertain about his choice.
"Uh, my friend, is all of this…" He glances towards the table and back to me, "Is this truly necessary, you don't require any of those to properly work."
"Nonsense, Renji! Proper procedure should be followed at all times!" I make a show of dipping my hands into newly created boiling water, which is quickly evaporated back into gas as I slap on a pair of surgeon's gloves.
"Don't worry Renji, I'm totally a doctor! I know what I'm doing!" I lie as naturally as I breathe.
Obviously this doesn't reassure him, as well acquainted with my odd moods as he is. I supress the urge to laugh, reminded of my childhood days of fearing injections and visits to the doctor.
With a thought, Renji's processes shut down, causing the man's head to slump back into the pillow.
I couldn't supress the low giggle that reverberated through the chamber, the props I had made for that silly diversion reverting back to the matter they had once been. As Renji had said, I didn't need them to operate on him.
With a chant, and a quick ritual circle, the effort to improve my friend began in earnest.
-Strider POV-
With a flash of light, the scenic views of Venice dissipated into the frozen hellscape of the South Pole. He shivered, despite having the forethought of bringing a thick coat with him, it was still freezing, so cold that it almost burned.
He wrapped his arms against himself, attempting to shield himself from the cold, and cursing the PRT for asking him to come here.
Thankfully he wasn't suffering for nothing. A quick look at his phone was enough to soothe the pain, the recent transaction of ten million dollars. Subject to further payment should things go south.
It was a fairly short notice request, apparently Watch Dog's Thinkers caught wind of a missing Protectorate member. They had said he needed immediate extraction, and seeing where they were? He could see that.
He looked around, his target should be somewhere close to the coordinates he had been given.
His fingers danced upon the screen of his DragonTech phone, navigating to the photos section with ease of well-practiced remembrance. The man he was supposed to retrieve was certainly big, if the size comparisons could be believed. The man was one of the few Non-Tinkers to actually wear armour, with a navy blue bodysuit beneath that white armour.
Of course it had to be white armour.
Fuck.
He scanned the snowy plains intently, searching for any signs of movement. He must have stood, stock still and eyes watching, for almost five whole minutes.
Just as he was about to call it quits, seriously it was way too cold, he spotted something.
His head turned, eyes narrowing, and sure enough, there it was: a splotch of blue in an otherwise pure white landscape.
Strider sighed in relief, grateful at the sign he'd be done with this assignment soon.
He began moving forwards, already plotting out his next destination in his head.
Somewhere warm, preferably with a beach.
AN: Shorter chapter than usual, had some trouble putting words to digital paper. Still, you got a glimpse of Alexander's short-term plans, and a tiny hint at his overall scheme. Renji is getting his upgrades and the showdown with Alexander and Thanatos is foreshadowed. Is foreshadowed the right word to use when Alexander literally says he's going to do it? Hmm, there's probably a better word I'm missing. Oh well.
Also, Chubster escapes! Which means the PRT will be getting some juicy info, look forward to that! If you're wondering how the Thinkers picked up on him, the man simply walked far enough that the wards against divination no longer covered him.
Happy new years, BTW!
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