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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 75: Chapter 75: Deals Under Darkness
Summary:
Alexander, once more being a girlboss, proceeds to gaslight the Alliance of Boston
Chapter Text
Chapter 75: Deals Under Darkness
-Sanzang POV-
Sanzang hummed, an infrasonic sound accompanying the vocalisation, just at the right frequency to make others relax. It was something his creator had programmed into him, giving him the controls for such a dangerous tool of manipulation with barely a thought, trusting Sanzang's morals and beliefs to hold him back from temptation.
Yà lì shān dà was correct in this, even if it formed an alarming trend.
Still, he allowed the subvocalization loose, the coming meeting too important to allow tension and stress to ruin it.
Renji and Taizong's shoulders sagged minutely, in a way almost impossible to tell without augmented perception.
For Yà lì shān dà, the effect was more pronounced, which was curious. Many would likely assume the opposite, that the inhuman protector of Jinzhou would be the least susceptible, but that was not the case.
Sanzang, for his part, was not surprised, it fit all the data points he had built up surrounding his creator. Yà lì shān dà, somehow, was human. An enormously powerful, enormously flawed, human surrounded by those that were fundamentally not.
Sanzang did not judge him for this, frankly he wasn't one to judge anyone. However his creator had asked for his aid in their mental wellbeing, so he had cause to analyse and understand.
The only problem, Sanzang thought with some exasperation, was that Yà lì shān dà was quite the massive liar. Perhaps not a direct one, no, but it was no coincidence that so many false impressions had sprung up surrounding them.
The entire outside world believed them to be a bloodthirsty murderer, a peerless schemer and a pitiless monster all in one.
The people of Jinzhou believed Yà lì shān dà to be a god, their perfect divine protector who always appeared in the times of greatest need.
In fact, if the few words he had overheard from Renji were true, it was likely that even their name and gender were obfuscations.
All lies, all false to one degree or another.
Yet, it bore repeating, none of this was because they had outright lied, Yà lì shān dà had simply allowed others to project upon them, giving no voice as to whether these impressions were true or false.
In any other circumstance Sanzang might have praised their creator for such a lack of ego, for not allowing themselves to be dictated by the wills of others.
However, this was not that.
No, this silence did not come from a lack of ego or from a simple thick skin.
It came from a deep belief in the lack of a point. A nihilism that Sanzang very much did not approve of.
For whatever reason, Yà lì shān dà genuinely believed that people would have come to these conclusions regardless of whatever happened, and for the life of him he couldn't find out why.
His creator had improved slightly, that much he could tell. The fact that his creator had even reached out was proof enough of that. Renji had done what he could, but Sanzang knew that there were only so many problems unconditional support could fix, in fact there were many issues where that same trait could make things far worse.
So Sanzang continued to observe Yà lì shān dà, as they stared into the monitor, the abandoned warehouse the Alliance had chosen as their meeting place going unmentioned as all four sat and waited for their guests to arrive.
His creator was nervous, as was made obvious by their tapping foot, he didn't blame them. There was much riding on this.
Five minutes later, there was movement.
Lights danced along the abandoned walls of the warehouse, allowed in by the numerous holes left in the derelict structure, evidence of the decay that Boston had been enduring for quite some time. A loud reverberating hum accompanied the light, the distant purr of an engine. Vehicles, Sanzang surmised.
That much was expected, what wasn't was the dozens of people who chose to enter the meeting point.
"Oh, great. Well this makes things complicated," Yà lì shān dà groused, readying themselves.
The guests filed into the warehouse one at a time, the brightly dressed figures taking point to scan the building for any danger, calling out when they eventually found nothing.
As if that were their cue, three individuals entered the room, their authority clear from how those around them reacted to their presence. Subtle shifts of body language, individuals becoming more alert than before, it was all clearly visible to Sanzang.
The first was a simple suited man, his frame suggested that the man was no soldier, or anyone comfortable fighting. His face didn't fit the body, however, a high forehead and a well furrowed brow lined the angry expression of the man who was clearly the local PRT director.
The next was a spectacle of brilliance, a beautiful woman covered in a golden dress and wearing an equally splendid golden mask. Almost everything about her -whether it be her outfit, her posture or even her facial features- seemed carefully curated, almost unnaturally symmetrical. This, then, would be Citrine, current leader of the Ambassadors.
The final individual was not at all like the others, where her compatriots strode into the room with an air of authority, this one walked in with an expression of tired incredulity, as if she couldn't believe what she was doing. Her suit, though worn and frayed at the edges, possessed clear apple motifs. Poison Apple, if he wasn't mistaken.
The director was the first to speak, "Any sign?"
Taizong leaned over, "I believe that's our cue?"
Alexander, although shooting a tired glare at the man, complied, turning off the invisibility of the drone, whose eyes they were watching this from.
The agents, turning to reply a negative to the director, quickly spotted the drone, with some raising their weapons in response to its sudden appearance.
"Well, time for a show."
-Toxic Apple POV-
Abrupt shouts filled the dusty air, blurring together into a wall of noise, the reveal of the machine spooking more than a few.
Eventually, after the machine neither attacked them or bothered to pay their shouting any heed, there was quiet, all eyes in the room nervously tracking the silently floating drone and looking to their respective leaders for direction.
"Well, that's Tinkertech, if I've ever seen it," she quipped, attempting to hide the tenseness of her shoulders.
It was true, though. She had been around enough Tinkers to know something impressive when she saw it. The sleek, aerodynamic, form hovering silently above the warehouse floor? Definitely of high quality, it had the polished look that only the works of established Tinkers tended to have.
It made Lauren glad that she had chosen to come instead of Rey. Not because he would have spent the entire meeting high, well mostly not for that reason, but because she knew the man would have spent the entire meeting fighting back the urge to dismantle the thing for inspiration. Biotinker or not, Rey had dipped his toes into enough machinery that he'd want to know what made this thing tick.
"I assume you're the one who sent us that message then?" Citrine stepped up, eyeing the drone with interest. "A member of the Prometheans, if not in the flesh?" She smiled disarmingly, it was a pretty smile, Lauren could admit. It unfortunately lost most of its charm when you had seen that same face looking coldly down upon someone before executing them.
"We are," came the droning voice originating from the machine. Lauren raised an eyebrow, it would appear they were taking some care to not give away their identities. Smart, not everyone held the unwritten rules to be gospel. Not a great sign for their Alliance, however.
Armstrong was the next to step up, watching the drone with a hawkish stare. "You mentioned you had something to offer?" the tone was a bit snappish, undoubtedly from the many sleepless nights he had been forced to endure.
"We did, indeed. From what we've gathered, your water supply is scheduled to run low soon?"
Armstrong, reluctantly, nodded. "Yes, we've begun testing Tinkertech solutions for that problem," he gestured at her, the one representing Blastgerm, "however such efforts are moving slowly, even with us ignoring procedure and safety tests."
This was true, Rey had been burning the candle at both ends trying to work out an effective solution to many of the shortages soon to hit the city, but that was easier said than done. The designs that worked well required too much maintenance, while the ones which could function reliably were not as effective. Rey was closing in on that sweet spot, aiming to marry effectiveness and reliability, but it was most likely weeks away.
"We have, in our possession, Tinkertech blueprints made by Masamune; a mass production Tinker based out of Japan. These designs include a water treatment plant," the synthesised voice casually said, as if that wasn't groundbreaking news.
"There's a mass production Tinker?" Lauren couldn't help but blurt out, feeling shocked that someone with such an important specialty had flown under the radar. Was he new, perhaps?
"You said he was based in Japan?" Armstrong cupped his chin, before gaining a look of realisation. "Ah, so that's how the Sentai Elite had so much Tinkertech equipment. He's one of yours now?" The probe wasn't subtle, but if these Prometheans cared they didn't show it, answering in the same calm tone as before.
"No. We've had dealings with him, but he's still independent. What matters is that those devices could be easily constructed to solve your issue."
"To what end? What do you get out of this?" This time it was Lauren herself who asked a question, suspicious that such an unknown group would choose to discard their anonymity in order to save people.
"Morality," the voice replied flatly.
"Then why not help before, why have I never heard of your group before?" She challenged the Tinker, her two allies shooting her a look as she did so, yet she couldn't help it. People didn't do this! In all her years as a cape no parahuman had ever done something out of purely altruistic reasons.
"We have helped before, we're simply good at covering our tracks. The only reason we're being so transparent now is because of both the scope of the problem and your inability to tell anyone on the outside of us."
That caused Lauren's mouth to drop slightly, shocked at what they were implying. Were they seriously suggesting they had been operated for months or years without anyone noticing them. She turned to the director, and to Citrine, knowing that they would be better informed.
Going by the complicated look on their faces they had not heard of such a group before, and also found the possibility of them operating for so long without being caught to be unnerving.
"Moving on," the machine said, breezing past their concerns, "are there any other issues we may be able to help with? An opinion from those on the ground would be helpful."
Citrine spoke next, eyes still calculating. "Food will also become a problem in the weeks to come. Can't feed an entire city forever."
"A machine that can reprocess organic matter into sustenance then, and perhaps a device to create sunlight and rain in order to grow crops? Easily done." Lauren was beyond surprise at this point, as the Tinker trivially reduced a massive city wide issue into another point to be crossed off.
Armstrong and Citrine shared a glance between themselves, and Lauren -having long become used to these sorts of games- could tell what they were plotting. Reliable food and water alone would solve the vast majority of their problems. Civil unrest would quiet down upon understanding their deaths were no longer inevitable. The Teeth, lacking the advantages being offered, would slowly wither away, likely leading to defections and the gang bleeding manpower and resources.
No, this meeting was no longer about solving crises, it was about getting a read on this new group. Their capabilities, their disposition, their plans going forwards, all of it.
Armstrong shot a discreet glance to one of his Tinkers nearby, the woman's jaw visibly clenched as she looked up from a futuristic display. She shook her head. He turned back to the drone, and spoke again.
"The Teeth are still a problem, when they learn of what we have they'll intensify their raids. The Butcher alone would be a serious problem," Armstrong threw out, testing the waters.
"Weapons and armour can be provided, so long as they are not turned against the civilian population. Should such happen they will be taken back."
Well that was a threat, if she'd ever heard one.
Amusingly, however, Armstrong actually seemed to relax at that, as opposed to Citrine, who maintained her composure.
By now she could hear whispers coming from outside the warehouse, gang members and PRT troopers listening in unable to contain themselves.
Yeah, she couldn't blame them, the moment she got back to Rey she was probably going to explode over all that this new group had revealed, assuming they lived up to their word.
Armstrong and Citrine didn't attempt to quiet the mutterings, perhaps realising that it would have been pointless, or perhaps deciding the boost in morale was worth the loss of professionalism.
"Is that all, should I share those blueprints with you now?" The voice eventually questioned after a long pause.
"A way to contact you would be ideal," Citrine said, no doubt already plotting of ways to turn this to her advantage.
The construct did not answer, it didn't need to as, all at once, all three of their phones rang in unison.
The familiar ring tone, after days of not hearing it, almost brought a tear to her eyes.
"So you can get past all this interference? Think you could share the secret to that too?" Armstrong asked, engrossed in what he had found on his phone.
The drone didn't answer for a second, and while she couldn't see the Prometheans in person, she imagined that they must be debating over the question. Why this one was worth a talk while the others weren't, she couldn't guess.
"…The interferences are because of the spatial disturbances caused by the Endbringer Thanatos. Attempting to bypass them would require high level tinkering with space-time, and while that is something we're capable of…"
The voice trailed off, ignoring the wide eyed looks of shock caused by the admission of their capabilities once again.
"…Such a thing would likely be detected by Thanatos," they finished, not needing to say more.
Because, yeah, that was a pretty good reason not to meddle.
"Thanatos," Armstrong mused, "is that the official name for it?"
"…Yes?" The drone answered, sounding oddly hesitant at the answer.
Bit odd, but nobody questioned it, likely too enamoured by the designs that had been shared via their phones. Well, she was, anyway, and she knew Rey would be even more so when she delivered the blueprints to him.
The meeting went on for a bit longer, some questions genuine while many others weren't, but at some point the person behind the machine must have realised they were probing them, and no longer seeking aid. Their answers became more evasive, more non-committal.
Which was a shame, but oh well.
"I believe we're done here?" The machine asked with some impatience, "I have important work to be getting back to."
Lauren was personally fine to end it there, but Citrine -perhaps looking to push for an advantage, chose to butt in with one last question. "And that work is?"
The drone, which had been slowly turning away, slowly swivelled to face her. Lauren knew, intellectually, that the single camera available to the machine could not truly convey annoyance, but whoever was operating the construct certainly felt it.
"If you must know," the machine conveyed with a clipped tone, "I am attempting to figure out a way to return this city into proper space without killing all of you."
There was no response to that, which the machine took as it's cue and promptly disappeared before anyone else could question it.
-Alexander POV-
I sighed, if I possessed a heart it would no doubt be beating quite hard from the stress. Coming up with answers on the spot wasn't a strong suit of mine, and while I had been able to answer most of the questions they had posed to me some had left me stumped.
Mostly questions regarding legality and procedure.
(Why Armstrong still cared about that in this situation I did not know, but the PRT are going to PRT, I guess.)
Thankfully, whenever that occurred, Sanzang and Taizong were quick to sub in, politely deflecting questions and giving non-answers.
Whatever, it was done. Their trust, as fragile as it currently was, had been secured.
"May I ask what the end goal is here?" Taizong asked, still staring at the screen with slight revulsion. The man really didn't like the way things had devolved after the first five minutes, the Alliance quickly ganging up to try to pry information out of me.
I wasn't thrilled either, but mostly saw it as the cost of doing anything with large organisations. Some petty bullshit was almost a requirement.
"Returning Boston to where it was, and neutralising Thanatos."
"You mean Mary?" Taizong threw my words back in my face, causing me to bristle in anger.
"Let's not," Sanzang interceded, shooting us both a look of warning.
I didn't back down immediately, but eventually sank back into my chair with a sigh.
"Yes, I meant killing Mary," I say, stripping away the euphemisms, and hating myself for it.
"The first goal requires that the second be achieved first. After all, if Mary is still alive, she could just steal Boston once more."
"I don't think that requires Boston's trust to do so," Renji points out, looking at me questioningly. Right, Renji knows of my experiments. He knows that, if given more time, I could likely build something capable of killing the body Mary now inhabits. However…
"Sure, I could just head in now and kill her," I say, simplifying the problem immensely, "but that would also kill the majority of Boston, because they'll have no warning and will get caught up in the carnage."
"Which is why you're building bridges with the people that can corral the sheep," Taizong says, looking enlightened.
"So, what? You'll just tell this Alliance that you're coming for them?" Renji asked, still appearing confused.
"Yes," I simply stated. "They have no means of accessing the outside world except through us. If I tell them that 'Eris' is nearing the location where Boston used to be, they'll have to believe me."
Renji's eyes widened in understanding, while the other two -Taizong smirking and Sanzang quietly observing- appear to have already put those pieces together. Not surprising, really. Both of them had more experience thinking on a wider scale, whereas Renji was more singular.
"At which point they'll begin using the Endbringer shelters, which I'm guessing you're already using some of your drones to begin enchanting," Taizong finishes, having already deduced my moves.
I nod, with only a handful of remaining drones I needed to utilise them carefully. Etching the insides of the shelters with runes of protection was one of their most important tasks.
"A week," I decide then and there. "I'll use this week to help prepare the killing stroke, all while solidifying the trust I've already gained. After that, I'll be going in."
"That's…a bit premature," Taizong says, looking at me with some degree of concern, which is surprising.
Or perhaps not, considering I was Jinzhou's best line of defence.
"Patience might be best," Sanzang agreed, to which I could only shake my head.
Oh, they were absolutely right, of course. Jumping in so soon wasn't the best idea, from a strategic perspective it made no sense. But I wasn't arguing from that view, I was seeing things from the perspective of an engineer instead.
"No, it needs to be soon. There's too much about that pocket dimension that we just don't know, and Thanatos playing merry hell with my sensors doesn't help! How are the people inside it getting air? Does it have long term effects on living beings stuck inside it? How long will it last? What will happen if Thanatos decides to leave for whatever reason? There's just too much we don't know, and so many things that could go wrong. If I want to save those people I need to be decisive."
Sanzang…reluctantly nodded, seeing that I was serious about the risks.
Taizong merely appeared annoyed, not at all swayed by my arguments.
I looked back at the screen, now showing the three groups leaving the area.
Soon, not now, but soon.
AN: Bit of a doozy of a chapter. We got Sanzang's first POV chapter, and he's already got Alexander pegged and is now just waiting patiently and observing. As for the the Alliance? Yeah, they're taking the help, they're just that desperate. Not without questioning things though. To which Alexander replies with outright lies, namedropping Masamune so that his non-blackboxed Tinkertech doesn't get him identified as Eris.
For the final part, we got Alexander's plan. Yeah, it was always going to come down to a fight between these two, and Alexander is having to work fast because -as someone who has experience fucking with space- he knows how deadly pocket dimensions can be.
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