Chapter 38: Flawed Perspective

-Legend POV-

“Once the data compiles and uploads you should have everything my systems were able to capture,” Colin said, still just as brusque and to the point as his Ward days. At any other time Legend may have asked Colin how he was doing – asked whether he had made any new friends or if he was still stubbornly insistent on remaining professional in his day to day life.

He especially would have liked to speak with him today because of what he had just gone through. Colin was one of the few that had been close enough for Eidolon to save. It wasn’t easy to be one of the sole survivors of a massacre, Legend knew that from experience.

“Thank you Armsmaster. That will be all.”

Unfortunately he couldn’t, Legend had work to do. Far too much work.

Once word had got back to the wider world that over 200 Protectorate capes had perished in a foreign country there had been questions. Many uncomfortable questions. The outrage had only been further enflamed when it was revealed that a new Endbringer was responsible.

It had gotten so bad even the public was aware that something had happened. They didn’t have the full story, but rumours were already spreading in shadowed alleys and online.

Armsmaster nodded, straight back and humourless as ever – yet Legend could see the cracks. The bags under Colin’s eyes had grown and the subtle human tells the man had -which only those close to him would be able to pick up- were absent. The man resembled a machine more than anything else, it wasn’t a good look on him.

“Go get some rest Colin,” Legend sighed. “I’ll know if you don’t.”

Colin said nothing, only jerking his head in a faint approximation of a nod and leaving through the door behind him. Leaving Legend with only a single other occupant.

“How are you holding up ‘Rebecca’, is your workload manageable?”

The body double of Rebecca Costa-Brown looked up from her pile of paperwork with a scouring glare that felt like it could be used to sear flesh from bone. Legend only smiled grimly at the sight. “That bad, huh?”

Leslie Hughes, the aforementioned body double, had been inundated with work and, now that she was bereft of a boss with perfect memory who also didn’t sleep to share the work with, she was handling it poorly.

The woman’s drooping eyelids and swaying body told Legend everything he needed to know.

“Just hang in there a little longer, once this crisis is over you’ll be allowed to retire in comfort,” Legend reassured her. It was the least they could do considering this woman had been covering for Rebecca for many years.

“Thank fuck for that,” came the muttered reply.

It still shocked him sometimes, to hear someone who looked so much like Rebecca be so crass. Legend couldn’t imagine, even on her worst day, Alexandria ever losing her composure to such an extent that she resorted to swearing. Rebecca cared too much about her self-control and image to ever indulge.

Rebecca.

The small smile that had crept up his face died at the reminder.

Another one of his friends was dead. Rebecca, who had survived over 20 years of all the world could throw at her -someone who was known to be all but invincible. She was dead.

Choked to death by an Endbringer.

Legend stared blankly at another report, the letters swimming across the page as he tried to concentrate

Rebecca, who he had frequently argued with. Rebecca, who had seemed to grown cold and detached after Hero’s death. Rebecca, who he had to drag kicking and screaming from her work if he ever wanted to catch up with her.

A tear fell from his face and landed on the page, and legend realised the blurriness of his eyes wasn’t simply from tiredness.

Legend glanced at Leslie, glad she was once more absorbed in her work, and cleared his eyes with the back of his hand. His eyes strayed to the left, hoping to gain strength from the portrait of his husband Arthur. The familiar giddiness rose up, but it was like a candle in a sea of darkness – unable to fully banish his dark mood.

Legend took comfort in it anyway, once this awful business was done with he would go home and wrap his husband in a hug. It would have been impossible for him to imagine year ago that he would ever get married, now it was something that had never failed to get him through the day.

This would be no different.

Legend put his pen to paper, and signed.

-Leslie Hughes POV-

The indoor lighting of the meeting room made her squint as her eyes adjusted. The room was large, a grand meeting hall designed to accommodate representatives from every country on Earth. The room gently sloped upwards, a purposefully chosen design to allow everyone to able to see the podium on the far end of the room.

That was her destination.

She had to consciously resist the urge to duck her head as the eyes of every powerful individual in the room locked onto her as she came in. The room was completely full today, not a great sign considering that only happens when an event of global importance occurs. Even countries that were barely clinging on to relevance had chosen to attend.

Leslie gulped silently, trying to wet her dry throat.

Eventually, after a long and tense walk, she arrived at the podium. She tilted her head towards her IT consultant, who was sitting next to the projector -connecting it to her personal computer. After a few last second adjustments he gave her a thumbs up.

‘Calm down Leslie. You just need to give your report, answer some questions, and leave.’

The attempt at comforting herself didn’t work.

The woman once more quietly bemoaned her decision to take part in the conspiracy regarding the Chief Director’s secret identity. Sure it paid ridiculously well and the benefits were literally out of this world but sometimes the downsides were far too high.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she began, projecting her voice the same way the late Chief Director would have. “I would like to thank you for attending this meeting, your continued commitment to international relations in regards to parahuman threats does you all credit.”

There was some angry grumbling at that, clearly not in the mood to be buttered up when a new Endbringer was on the loose. Leslie noted this, and began changing tracks in regards to her speech and presentation.

“As you all know on the 2nd of August at 22:00 hours -US standard times- an operation was launched in India, Hyderabad, with the permission of the Indian Government.”

The representative of India quietly slid down in his seat, hoping to be spared from the searing glares of the rest of the world. It didn’t work. Nobody was happy with the current situation, and even while knowing India had little to do with the situation they were still being caught in the crossfire politically speaking.

Personally, as the one people were blaming the most, Leslie was just glad there was someone else getting shit flung at them.

“This operation was called in response to the actions of a group known as ‘The Architects’, a theorised group of Tinkers using their specialties to build cities in formerly uninhabitable areas that had been affected by the Endbringers. As a result of this, all of the regions where a city was built an increase in instability and conflict occurred. Thus an attempt was made to apprehend the group in order to prevent them from spreading further chaos and to secure and help spread their un-black boxed tinker tech.”

To say many countries were upset with the PRT for their increased presence outside of America was putting it mildly. Their continued presence in Japan and now a raid to secure a powerful group in India? To many it seemed like a horrible precedent was being set, a slippery slope that might end with American imperialism. Regardless of how correct the PRT and America may have been, they would undoubtedly try to push back against the now proactive nature of the PRT.

Leslie saw where they were coming from, and could even admit that they were right to worry. Unfortunately as the current acting Chief Director of the PRT it was her responsibility to act in the organisations best interests.

“And how do you expect us to believe that you would have shared the technology with us? It seems far more likely to me that you would have kept such an advantage to yourselves!”

The room murmured in agreement, and even Japan and India -two countries that knew the PRT was planning on sharing their technologies- remained silent. The truth wasn’t what mattered here, only leverage.

Thankfully Leslie had an answer to that.

“If you would all turn to face the doors on your right?” She asked. The question clearly surprised the room, going by the faces she could see from behind the glare of the lights. Nevertheless they turned right as several of her agents pushed through the door, all carrying a briefcase.

The noise of the room picked up. Some uttered word of confusion, while others eyed the approaching agents with barely concealed hostility – expecting betrayal.

“These agents are going to hand out an envelope to each of you. Within these is a drive containing all of the technology we have been able to recover from New Fukuoka. We give this freely to all of you.”

The room exploded into a cacophony of noise. Questions, shouts and cheers. Some looked upon the given drives with barely concealed greed, while others were already connecting it to their computers – trawling through the database with barely concealed wonder.

The smarter ones merely allowed the others to confirm her words before even touching the envelopes.

Personally Leslie, as well as the rest of Cauldron, would have preferred giving this information out to each country in exchange for favours, money, influence or anything else of value they might have. Unfortunately that came second to salvaging their reputation and spreading the database to as many countries as possible.

“Except The Architects were always fictitious, an elaborate lie crafted by an Endbringer,” the British representative flatly stated, eyeing the unopened envelope as if it were a snake. “We’re all aware of the duplicitous nature of the Endbringers, my own country has bore the weight of the Simurgh’s plots. So how do we know the data isn’t a trap in some way?”

Leslie looked at the man. “I was getting to that.”

The man scoffed lightly, but stayed quiet – waiting for her explanation.

“Yes, The Architects never existed. It was always a singular Endbringer that raised Kyushu from the seas and built two cities atop the ruined lands.”

The audience in front of her quietened down at that. They had already been given a quick brief explaining the situation, but to hear it confirmed was chilling. Leslie could see faces whitening slightly, and more than a few suddenly set down the drives – suddenly appearing sick.

“We believe this Endbringer meticulously chose those locations in order to cause as much unrest as possible. The reemergence of Kyushu caused many of the gangs of Japan to attempt to seize it. It drew international attention, and even now we have reports of various groups attempting to gain access to the city. All while Japan is too weak and disunified to dislodge such elements from its soil.

Leslie didn’t even have to look to know Taka Shimura, the representative of Japan , was glaring at her. She would feel sorry, but she needed to give adequate reason to the rest of these countries as to why the PRT will be taking jurisdiction of New Fukuoka.

That wouldn’t happen today, but from the reports it would happen soon.

“In China the Endbringer gathered recruits that would be amenable to their cause, disaffected former citizens, and built them a veritable fortress from which they’re currently launching raids. In addition, while this is unconfirmed, it is likely the individual calling himself ‘Sun Wukong’ is connected to this Endbringer.”

More than a few in the crowd stiffened at the name. The cape had certainly made…an impression.

“This is the same cape that devastated the capital of China, provoked a civil war with a single message and then left.”

“And this is supposed to make us believe the schematics are trustworthy…how?” A voice from the back of the audience called out.

The were some grumbles of agreement at that.

“Once the manipulative nature of the Endbringer became known the PRT, as well as the United States Government, ordered the data to be searched through with a fine comb. We used Thinkers, Tinkers and regular engineers and scientists. We didn’t find any hidden traps. While the technology in the drive could be used to harm others it is not, by itself, dangerous.”

Leslie could still see many were unconvinced.

“You are free to test it yourselves, and whether you choose to make use of the data or not is your prerogative,” Leslie sighed.

That was a lie. Leslie knew the moment even one country began using the data others would be forced to also use it unless they wanted to be outstripped technologically, economically and culturally.

Even if every other country in this room decided to not use what they had been given, America would.

“Fascinating,” came a smooth voice near the front of the crowd. It was the representative of the C.U.I.

Leslie could already tell this was going to be a headache.

“In other words,” the man spoke, “Jinzhou, and all within, are effectively working with an Endbringer?” The man’s eyes flickered across the gathered representatives. “If they’re left to their own devices, isn’t it possible they’ll unleash greater catastrophes. We already know from our intelligence gathering that many in the city worship this new Endbringer as a goddess.”

Ah, yes. Their ‘intelligence’. By that he means PHO.

To Leslie’s amusement most occupying the room seem indifferent, or even outright pleased that China was hosting a hostile Endbringer worshipping city-state within their borders. It was only countries sharing a border with the C.U.I. that seemed even a little worried.

“That seems like a separate issue to be discussed,” Leslie lied as easily as she breathed.

The man opened his mouth, presumably to argue against this assertion, but she continued. “This bring us to the fight itself.”

She clicked a button on her computer, and the projector lit up. The image projected upon the wall was a gruesome one. An ocean of teeth and claws silently erupting from an enormous snarling giant. The hatred and disgust so visceral that it almost seemed to bleed into the room itself.

“The Endbringer has been confirmed to be a matter manipulator of unprecedented power and control. Combined with their obvious Tinker abilities they are able to craft entire structures within a few seconds. Furthermore this isn’t limited to static, non-organic, materials. In the battle our enemy proved this by continually summoning monsters and reviving any who were slain.”

The clip unfroze as she finished, and the wave of red on screen surged forwards. The screen zoomed out, showing the horde of monsters clamber over and around entire buildings. No obstacles seemed to even slow them down, and when they finally reached the parahumans that they had been sent against there was a brief scene of utter carnage -limbs flying and arteries severed- before the video was paused once more.

Several in the crowd were obviously sickened at the display, their faces green and their eyes wide.

“Of the initial 50 parahumans, and the subsequent 247 capes sent to reinforce us, only 5 survived the battle.”

The horror on the faces she saw only deepened. That was a little under 99% in terms of casualty rates. No other Endbringer killed such a large percentage of capes sent to face them. Leviathan killed roughly two in every three capes, a 66% casualty rate. Behemoth was slightly higher, fluctuating between 70%-75%.

She didn’t mention who had survived. No doubt they assumed all of the Triumvirate had managed to escape alive. The PRT would be attempting to keep this charade up until the preparations were complete.

Her lips almost curled in distaste.

That Doctor Mother was truly disgusting.

“While a lack of preparation and surprise played a part in the scale of this massacre, there are other factors to consider. The first being-“

The slide changed once more, showing Legend gently lowering himself to the ground – but there was something wrong with him. His skin was pale and clammy, and his mouth was full of blood.

“-The Endbringer seems to be capable of ignoring the Manton Effect, showing a breadth of power unlike their siblings. Legend was the only one to survive being targeted in this manner, but it is likely many other were targeted in such a way and simply didn’t survive.”

The room was silent, everyone clearly at a loss on what to think.

“The second is this.”

Again, the slide changed. This time silence was dispelled as many sighed in relief, and even let out small and subdued whoops of joy. On the screen was the Endbringer, their perfect features a blackened ruin. One of their arms was bone thin, a black crystalline skeleton was all that remained of it. It was so damaged, in fact, that this was likely the most injury anyone had seen be done to an Endbringer. Many in the audience took this to be a good sign, that the Endbringer could be hurt. That it wasn’t invincible.

Leslie wished she didn’t have to disabuse them of those notions.

“As you are aware,” she says, “When sufficiently injured an Endbringer will typically retreat in order to heal the damage done to them and remain dormant until their next attack.”

The slight cheer on the faces before her began to fade, as they began to put the pieces together.

“This didn’t happen during the fight. We estimate that it took nearly twice the amount of damage most Endbringer would take before retreating and kept fighting.”

The cheer had now completely vanished.

“Finally…”

She sighed, her composure broken for a moment. This was the worst part. So bad that she didn’t want to say it.

“Finally, there is this.”

For the last the slide changed. This time it showed a first person point of view, as the Endbringer held the individual whose perspective they were viewing this from. Arms beat against the Endbringers arm. The monster leaned in, their face full of nothing but hate.

“AleXAndRiA!”

The room froze.

The voice was raspy, and held a borderline bestial growl, but it was unmistakeably speaking English.

An Endbringer was talking.

“When Behemoth first struck the oil fields we thought it was alone. It was straightforward, often walking directly towards its objectives. Simple. Then came Leviathan, and one became two. This Endbringer was trickier and possessed a low cunning, capable of deceiving those it fought with traps and feigned weaknesses. Then came the Simurg, and two were now three. The Simurgh’s plans speak for themselves, for we have all been touched by her machinations.”

The room remained still, as all eyes seemed to beg her silently to not say what they knew she was going to say.

“Now there are four. And this one is unmistakably sapient.”

AN: Yeah, nobody is dealing with the aftermath well. Legend is being worked to the bone. Colin may or may not have PTSD. Leslie is having to shoulder all of the work of Alexandria. Legend seems to think she’ll be stepping down now that Alexandria is dead, yet Leslie didn’t mention that at all in her POV. Wonder why? Finally there’s the other countries properly learning about this.

They’re not pleased. China especially, but everybody in the room has elected to ignore that.

Hope you enjoyed an please leave a comment!