Chapter 5: Chaos In The Streets

-Contessa POV-

Contessa sat in her armchair, her hands folded in her laps and a gun at the table in front of her. She sat here, because this is where she was supposed to be.

Step 146: Grab the gun at the table.

Step 147: Say: “Door me, New Fukuoka, Aoyama Street, forty feet up”

Step 148: Aim downwards at an angle of -47 degrees and an inch to the left.

Step 149: Fire.

The pistol kicked in her hands, but her grip was perfect and her aim even more so. The bullet smashed through a window and splattered the brains of a PRT technician just as he was about to alert the base to the incoming rush of enemy parahumans.

The portal closed swiftly after.

Step 150: Wait for one minute and twenty seven seconds.

She sat back in her chair and tilted her head towards the TV. The screen showed a basket full of kittens pawing at each other and snuggling in to their mother as a human pets each of their tiny heads.

Adorable.

She idly mused about acquiring a kitten assuming she survived the final battle, but quickly dismissed it. She could consider the thought after that long awaited day.

Step 151: Grab the gun at the table.

Step 152: Say: “Door me, New Fukuoka, Akari Street, five feet up”

Step 153: Aim downwards at an angle of -4 degrees exactly straight.

Step 154: Fire.

A PRT transport went up in flames as her bullet ricocheted into the fuel system. The detonation sent piece of metal and glass flying towards any caught within the vicinity. A shard of metal shot through the eye of a particularly troublesome brute and killed twenty more gang members who were about to break through the hasty cordon set up by a combined PRT, Guild and Japanese group of parahumans.

She saw one of them quickly turning their head towards her location in shock, but the portal closed before they could see her.

Step 155: Wait for fifty seven seconds.

Ultimately, as much as some in Cauldron might wish otherwise, Kyushu was not going to remain in the hands of the PRT or America. The resources and time it would require from her were unfeasible and better spent elsewhere.

The path had determined that the most efficient way forwards was to entrust the island to a group that could more easily defend it, and would be amenable to working alongside Cauldron. Whether that was with promises, bribery, threats or anything else didn’t matter.

The Japanese government was unsuitable for a variety of reasons, they were already overstretched trying to keep the territory they already had and Kyushu was simply too close to two major warlord factions.

Of those two factions the Hyakki Yagyō were more likely to burn down New Fukuoka and grill meat atop the burning embers than do anything productive.

Mount Ooe was the only reliable choice. Yes, it was a group of xenophobic ultra-nationalists but puppeting those sort of people was old-hat to Contessa. Their leader wouldn’t pass up any deal that could enrich her people at the expense of another, and when you had access to an almost infinite amount of Earths then no amount of resources would ever be a problem.

And so she had lured the Hyakki Yagyō here to help weaken both sides before Mount Ooe rolled in to clean up and claim Kyushu.

Yes it was unfortunate that so many PRT soldiers would lose their lives, but even that was calculated. The brunt of the blame would fall upon Nurahiyon and his gang of psychopaths, so when Mount Ooe eliminated them the citizens and politicians of America would be more amenable to working with a known warlord.

Step 156: Say: “Door me, New Fukuoka, Toriyama Street”

Step 157: Bring out the tinkertech countermeasure and activate it to cancel the jamming field momentarily.

Oh so that’s why she had to grab that from Armsmaster’s lab.

Step 158: Grab the discarded radio from beyond the portal.

Step 159: Switch it on and speak in an altered pitch and tone these words: “Corporal Hernandez! Do you copy? Over!”

“Lieutenant? Lieutenant is that you?” a young voice shakily asked over the radio, their protocol forgotten in place of their fear and hysteria.

Step 160: Grunt in an affectation of pain before speaking again.

Step 161: Say: “God you always were shit at proper radio procedure” before hissing and breathing hoarsely into the radio.

“Lieutenant, are you alright?! What’s your position?!” The young man began hesitantly before belting the words out, seemingly hysterical in the face of whatever might be happening to this ‘Lieutenant’ of his. Contessa briefly pondered on what their relationship might be, was it simply a bond of friendship forged in military service or did it go deeper? She shook that thought off.

Unfortunately for Hernandez he wouldn’t be living for too much longer.

Step 162: Say “I’m at Akiko Street, near where we ate those god-awful spring rolls last week. Listen, I’ve been hit badly and the rest of my squad are down, I need a medic and an evac quickly. Are you in position to do that?”

Step 163: Cough loudly and wetly into your hand.

“Fuck! Fuck! Lieutenant, we’ll be with you shortly just hang on!” he screamed into the radio before it shut off and the portal closed.

Step 164: Wait for two minutes and three seconds.

Corporal Hernandez wouldn’t make it to Akiko Street, but he would intercept a group of marauding Case-53’s and slow them down long enough that they would miss a group of fleeing scientists heading for the northern evacuation point.

Because while the soldiers were expendable the scientists were not. Their knowledge and samples would be invaluable in the years to come.

She stared down at the radio for a moment more before nodding and setting it down on the table.

It was necessary.

-Armsmaster POV-

Colin drove through the streets of New Fukuoka, swerving only occasionally as the ivory towers of the city blurred around him. His motorcycle was fast, fast in the sense that no mundane ground vehicle could come close to.

His visor alerted him of an enemy ahead. An insectoid Case 53 with acid drooling from it’s open mouth preparing to pounce upon a squad of soldiers, whose bullets were bouncing harmlessly off the chitin of the cape.

He grunted softly as he hefted his halberd and sped up.

The cape barely had a moment to react to the thundering roar of his approach before it was unceremoniously impaled upon his weapon. The impact jostled his shoulder painfully but his armour had done its job.

He could do without the flailing of the impaled parahuman though. It was shifting his motorcycle to the left by a couple of inches.

He spotted an intersection up ahead and with only a few slight twists his halberd detached into two separate parts and he flung the cape off of his weapon.

It promptly rammed into a building with all the force of a railgun round.

He mechanically adjusted the drift of his motorcycle and reattached the two parts of his halberd back together. He could only hope the people he saved would be able to make it to their rendezvous point, because he could not afford to slow down.

As one of the few capes capable of rapid movement, if only with his motorcycle, he had been picked out as part of a rapid response unit. He had already been present in numerous skirmishes across the city since the attack began, the aches and pains flaring up across his body were proof enough of that.

An unpleasant tension filled him. It wasn’t enough! He had been complacent, he had thought the battles and challenges of Brockton Bay were an ideal whetstone with which he could forge a proper legacy!

That had been arrogant.

The whine and creaks of the servos only caused his frown stretch further down his face. This fast paced continuous battle was one he had no preparation for. Most battles back in the bay only lasted for minutes at a time.

Now, as his tinkertech was slowly failing him, he could only bemoan his foolishness. His halberd, once his pride and joy, now looked unspeakably ugly in his eyes. The dozens of functions he had fit in the slender frame only added complexity and fragility.

How ironic that his pursuit of efficiency had only lead to inefficiency.

He turned sharply down a back alley, the ivory walls screeching against his metallic armour as he scraped by. Up ahead was his objective, a group of parahumans desperately holding the line against a wave of ghostly figures.

Projections, likely made by the Hyakki Yagyō cape Onryō.

He slid to a stop, pelting the projections with gravel and loose soil, before quickly dismounting and jabbing his halberd through one of the wraiths. Thankfully, he noted with relief, these projections could be dispersed with weaponry, unlike the projections of a certain neo-Nazi cape back home.

One of the ghosts lunged at him, crossing the distance in only a second. He sidestepped, countering with another swing of his halberd. The blade bit deeply into the pale white flesh of the projection as it gave a wail before disappearing.

He would have continued to hack away at the projections if not for a deep sibilant hiss echoing across the alley. He looked back to find another monstrous cape standing at the entrance to the alley he had come down, likely having followed him.

It was a massive silhouette of blades claws and scales, like some demented child had been asked to draw the unholy fusion of a snake and a blender. It towered over Armsmaster and the others, the massive bulk blocking out the sun. It leered at them before turning its eyes towards the cowering forms of a pair of engineers.

The bulging of its neck was the only warning it gave as it spat a ball of foul smelling liquid at the pair. He whirled around a desperate warning dying on his lips as he beheld a forcefield holding the smoking liquid at bay.

“Get fucked you dumb piece of shit!”

The mocking form of Bastion crowed at the creature, his forcefields still weaving behind him blocking and knocking away most of the charging projections attempting to storm their chokehold.

Armsmaster was just glad Bastion hadn’t said anything racist yet.

Still, it wouldn’t be great if Bastion got too distracted and allowed them all to get pincered. That would suck.

So Armsmaster stepped forwards and raised his halberd.

It didn’t move, didn’t even seem to register the movement. The snake-like Case 53 still kept his eyes on Bastion, ignoring him as it once more prepared to spit another concoction of malady.

That was strange, the PR department back home said he was very noticeable. Was Bastion just that aggravating?

Regardless he took another step before shifting into a jog as he thrust his weapon into the parahuman, the blade screeching against the metal blades dotting the serpentine form. Sparks flew as the blade was deflected and Armsmaster quickly stepped to the side his eyes darting across the many scythe like blades of the creature, expecting a brutal counterattack.

Except no attack came and the creature was now warily glancing around, the many weapons of the Case 53 were spread out as if it was expecting an attack to come from anywhere. Armsmaster felt his brows furrow. Could it not see him?

The question seemed absurd, but Armsmaster had served as a hero for a very long time. He had been around during the very first days that the Case 53’s started popping up around the globe. All of them had forms that were annoying at best and debilitating in the worst cases. Blindness was far from the worst issue he had seen.

No wait, it definitely saw those engineers. So it wasn’t blind.

If that was the case why couldn’t it see him?

He shook that thought off and sent a few more probing strikes of his weapon at the creatures back before hastily sidestepping a blind flail of a dagger-like claw as the parahuman tried to skewer whatever had been attacking him.

Well this clearly wasn’t working. If he wanted to harm this enemy he would need something more. A quick flicker of his eyes activated the execute program in his helmet, which in turn sent a ping towards his halberd. The stink of ozone filtered across the alley as his blade was surrounded by crackling plasma.

He hefted his weapon, preparing for another blow.

The beasts head snapping towards him was his first clue something had gone terribly wrong. The next was the lunging strike he had to hastily backstep away from. A claw from his left side hurtled towards him and he ducked, striking out with his halberd shortly after.

The satisfying hiss of melted metal and the screech of the creature brought a grim smile to his face as he finished backing away.

Heat. It could see using heat. It was the only thing that made sense. His armour ran cool thanks to the many tiny coolant pumps crisscrossing the inside of his suit like tiny veins. A necessity if a squishy tinker wished to fight Lung.

It had only seen him after he had activated the plasma blade.

He briefly contemplated turning it off but decided against it. The heat would take minutes to properly leave his halberd and he needed the plasma if he wanted to be able to hurt this thing.

He twirled his halberd, the act masking the firing of a dart into the wound of the Case 53 as he charged once more. The serpentine form of the cape hissed as it spat another glob of foul smelling liquid before charging as well.

Armsmaster hefted his halberd and thrust at the orb, detonating it into an explosion of rank smelling steam. Using the steam as cover he darted to the side as the parahuman barrelled passed him. He turned, and the next swing of his halberd caught the side of the creature. The cape screamed as an even larger part of its body sublimated.

The momentum of its charge carried it to the end of the alley where it briefly ragdolled on the ground before convulsing in agony. It’s shudders swiftly stopped as it fell unconscious just before Armsmaster reached the prone form.

A quick check confirmed the cape was still breathing. He turned to help aid the others, but he could already see the distant form of bastion and a pale lithe woman seemingly made of ceramics that was trapped within a dome of forcefields. A quick hole was briefly made as a member of the PRT quickly threw a containment foam grenade inside.

It seems he was done here.

He activated his comms, the tinkertech of its design unhindered by the jamming effect which was  yet another reason why he had been assigned as a first responder, and spoke.

“Alpha Base, this is Armsmaster, Bastion’s group is now free to head to the evacuation point. We have captured two unknown parahumans. One pale puppet-like Case 53 capable of manifesting a small army of ghost-like projections and a reptilian Case 53 with acid breath, a brute rating and a large amount of bladed weapons.”

There was a brief pause before a weary voice replied back.

“Good job Armsmaster your next task is to-“

He frowned as the voice cut itself off. There were faint whispers in the background and the crisp sound of paper being moved across a desk. A voice harshly whispered something inaudible but the tone of it was unmistakeable: something big had just happed, something urgent.

“Ah-I-I see” The voice whispered to themselves before speaking again, this time far more alertly. “Armsmaster, how much weight can your motorcycle carry?”

“A ton” He answered immediately, knowing his tinkertech backwards and forwards.

“Ah, good! The next location is being sent to you. You are to retrieve information uncovered by a team of scientists as quickly as possible and bring it to Alpha Base”

“Understood” he replied, moving towards his purring motorcycle.

“Armsmaster” The voice whispered harshly in his ear “This information takes priority over everything else. You are permitted to do whatever it takes. Do you understand?”

He slowed for a second, thrown off by the seriousness of the demand.

“…I understand. I will prioritise the information” He finally responded. As he revved his motorcycle and began driving towards the designated area.

What exactly had they found?

-Acting Director Brunsworth-

The quiet whispers of the operator next to him echoed loudly in the now quieter room. Conversations and orders had been drowned out when he had frantically raced into the room. All eyes were watching him, curious as to why he was present.

He didn’t bother to give them an explanation.

His eyes were still drawn to the photo he had been given not ten minutes ago.

It had been sent out shortly before the jamming field had gone up, but went unnoticed and ignored because of the battles now raging across the city. Only an eagle eyed intern had spotted it and understood the significance.

They were definitely getting a promotion later.

His mouth felt dry and there was still a shake in his legs at the sight.

The paper was innocuous enough. A photo taken of a book opened to a page of technical schematics. The book was clean, new. No discolorations or markings had had the time to set in just yet.

Except these schematics clearly showed the internals of the enormous filter which had been discovered in the ocean. In the background of the photo was yet more books stacked messily upon a wooden table.

Somewhere in the city there was a library, and in that library was all the answers they were looking for. Technology, secrets, knowledge. If even 1% of this cities workings were stored in this repository then they needed to secure it quickly. Before anyone else did first.